authors note: Just something short I wanted to write. It's not really a fanfic, but more of a self insert of how I would appropriately react with some events in Twilight. Hope you enjoy!
synopsis: You don't have a filter, which is a good thing (yeah, fuck whoever disagrees) which means that you make your dislike for Bella Swan apparent. It's not because she's mean, quite the opposite, but because you find her survival instincts to be nonexistent.
You had been with the Cullens long enough to know one thing: your family was full of liars. Not malicious ones, just polite ones. Polite to a fault. Polite in the “let’s pretend we’re not all thinking the same thing” way.
Esme smiled through everything. Carlisle rationalized everything. Alice saw everything and said nothing. Emmett laughed everything off. Jasper avoided everything. Rosalie judged everything silently. But you? You said it out loud. So when Bella Swan moved down from Arizona, smelling like the world’s most tempting air freshener and staring at your family like you were her personal Netflix show, you did the only reasonable thing.
You stared back.
Hard.
Unblinking.
Like a cat who just realized the laser pointer might actually be alive.
Across the cafeteria, Bella froze, eyes widening as if she hadn’t expected you to notice the staring, which was insane because she’d been doing it for several days now. Edward elbowed you sharply under the table. “Stop that.”
“She started it.” You said, but gave Edward the pleasure of looking away and slouching deeper in your chair. “And why is she even staring at us? Do humans not know that eye contact means aggression? Or is this a regional problem? Maybe Arizona doesn’t have basic survival instincts.”
“(Y/N).” Edward hissed.
“I’m genuinely asking.”
Rosalie sighed like your existence personally offended her. “She’s curious, (Y/N). Humans get curious.”
“Curious about what? We sit here. We look pretty. We mind our undead business. It’s not like we’re juggling axes or sacrificing goats.”
“Alice suggested the axes once, remember?” Emmett said. “Carlisle said no.”
“And the goats?”
“Also no.”
“Tragic.”
Edward rubbed his temples. “Can everyone please behave? She’s not a threat.”
“Oh, I know she’s not a threat,” you said, stabbing at your boxed apple juice with unnecessary force. “She’s a walking liability. A hazard on legs. She radiates ‘about to trip and break something expensive’ energy.”
“She’s clumsy.” Jasper admitted diplomatically.
“Clumsy? Bro, clumsy is bumping into a chair. Bella looks like gravity filed a restraining order against her and it’s retaliating.”
Emmett choked on a laugh. Jasper pressed his lips together so hard they almost disappeared. Alice was openly beaming now, her chin propped in her hand like she was watching her favorite sitcom. Rosalie, for once, did not immediately scold you. She simply gave a slow, unimpressed blink that meant she agreed but refused to compliment you for it.
Bella's eyes drifted up again: straight to your table, straight to Edward, and then (unfortunately) straight to you. When your eyes met, you raised your brows, silently mouthing, "What are you looking at?" She jerked so hard that the cartoon of milk nearly spilled on the table.
Edward kicked your shin under the table. “Stop terrorizing her.”
You glared at him. “I’m not terrorizing her. I’m observing.”
“You’re glaring.”
“That was a neutral expression.”
“For a vampire about to commit a felony.” Rosalie supplied. You rolled your eyes and reached for your fork. Edward snatched it out of your hand instantly.
“What are you—?"
He hissed under his breath, “Your face looks like you’re about to throw it at her.”
You blinked, and paused to considered it. “Okay, fair. But give it back.”
“No. You don't need to frighten her anymore than you have.”
“I wasn't scaring her,” you said, though no one at the table believed you. “If anything, I’m preparing her. This is enrichment. Like zoo training.”
TIME SKIP
When Edward came home that afternoon, his expression was the exact mix of disgust and existential dread you usually associate with Rosalie encountering a crowded mall. He barely got through the door before you spoke. “What crawled up your ass and died?”
Edward dropped his bag with unnecessary dramatics. “I had Biology with her.”
You recoiled. “Oh my god. And, let me guess, she sat next to you?”
“Yes.”
You slapped a hand over your chest. “A tragedy. A violation. You poor thing.” Edward glared. You shrugged. "No actually, I get it. She smells like dessert to you, right? And instead of avoiding you like a human with basic survival instincts she's like, ‘Oh gee, let me sit beside the immortal bloodsucker and try to befriend him.’ That’s a choice. A stupid one.”
Edward groaned. “It took everything in me not to jump across the table and suck her dry."
You raised a brow. “So this is the part where you decide to stay away from her, right?” Edward didn’t answer. You slapped a hand over your eyes. “Oh no. You’re already obsessed, aren’t you?”
And obsessed he was.
Painfully. Horrifyingly. Criminally.
Two days later, he unknowingly let it slip—and by slip, you mean he confessed it like a man who had forgotten what shame was—that he’d been watching Bella sleep from inside her room like a total creep. It happened during another dramatic Edward Entry, where he appeared at the top of the stairs with that look. That haunted, dreamy, lovesick, vaguely murderous look.
“I’ve discovered something.” he murmured, descending the stairs like a gothic chandelier falling in slow motion.
“A personality?” He ignored you. That was mistake number one.
“She talks in her sleep.” Edward said, voice low and weirdly soft.
You blinked once. Twice. “…Excuse me?”
Edward paused, eyebrows lifting in mild confusion. “Bella. She—”
“—talks in her sleep,” you finished for him. “Yes. Yes, you just said that. My question is: how you know this?”
Emmett’s eyebrows shot up. Jasper straightened in his seat like someone had plugged him into an electrical socket. Rosalie turned her head slowly—very slowly—to glare at Edward, because although she disliked Bella with a passion, she wasn’t about to let her brother be a full blown psycho. Her eyes narrowed into lethal slits.
“Edward. Tell me you’re joking.”
He stiffened. “I—”
“No,” Rosalie snapped, cutting him off like a guillotine. “Don’t. Whatever you say next is going to make me want to hit you, and Carlisle will get mad when I break your jaw.”
Emmett raised a hand helpfully. “I can hold him down.”
Rosalie didn’t even look at him. “He wouldn’t fight back. He’d probably cry about it.”
Jasper’s voice was cautious, like he was approaching a wild animal. “Edward, please tell us how you discovered this?”
Hesitation.
A bad sign.
A very bad sign.
You leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Edward, where were you standing when she was sleep talking?”
“I wasn’t standing.” he said defensively.
Rosalie looked a heartbeat away from physical violence. “Okay, so you were sitting. Where? On a tree branch? Outside her window like a feral owl?"
He winced. “The rocking chair in her room.”
The room exploded.
Rosalie made a strangled, murderous noise. Jasper froze as if preparing emotionally for Edward’s funeral. Emmett dropped the remote and whispered, “Oh my god. You ARE a creep.” And you stood up so fast your chair skidded backward.
“EDWARD ANTHONY MASEN CULLEN!”
“Don’t use my full name—”
“You sat,” you repeated, stabbing each word into the air like a knife. “In the dark. In the corner. In a rocking chair. Watching a human girl as she slept like some sort of pale, sparkly sleep paralysis demon?"
Edward winced. “When you say it like that—”
“How ELSE am I supposed to say it?” you barked. “You violated every privacy law ever created! Even the unwritten ones! Humans don’t even LIKE when their pets stare at them while they sleep.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Oh my god,” Rosalie cut in, looking genuinely appalled. “I didn't think you could become even more of a loser than you were."
It was at that moment that Esme entered the room cheerfully, but then froze, noticing the tension. “What’s going on?”
You pointed at Edward with the dramatic fury of a soap opera character. “Oh, it's nothing. Just that your perfect golden boy here has been breaking into Bella Swan’s bedroom and WATCHING HER SLEEP!”
Esme blinked. Then blinked again. “Oh dear...”
Carlisle followed behind her, eyebrows rising. “Edward?”
Edward threw his hands up. “I was making sure she was safe!”
You gaped at him. “SAFE FROM WHAT, EDWARD?! NIGHTMARES? PILLOWS? HER OWN BREATHING?!”
Emmett nodded vigorously. “Bro, imagine waking up and seeing YOU in the corner. I’d yeet myself out the window.”
Jasper nodded. “So would I.”
Edward glared at all of you. “None of you understand—”
“OH TRUST ME,” you barked, “we understand PERFECTLY. You have lost your goddamn mind.”
Rosalie stepped closer, voice low. “If Bella finds out about this, she is going to pass out so fast she’ll crack her skull on her nightstand. And then YOU’LL have to explain to Charlie Swan why his daughter died of fright.”
Emmett held up a finger. “Which would be hilarious—”
Rosalie snapped, “Emmett!”
“—but bad.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Edward, listen carefully. Humans don’t LIKE being watched while unconscious. They tend to—oh, I don’t know—call the police!”
“That’s ridiculous.” Edward scoffed.
“Oh?” you asked sweetly. “And what would YOU do if a stranger sat in YOUR room at night?”
“I would know.” He said smugly.
“Yes,” you said dryly, “because you’re a vampire. Bella is a CHIHUAHUA with the durability of a breadstick.”
“Oh! Well EXCUSE ME,” you said dramatically. “Three encounters. That changes everything. Let’s book the wedding.”
Emmett raised a hand. “Dibs on best man.”
Rosalie hissed. “We are not planning a wedding for the girl he’s currently stalking.”
“I'm not—"
“STALKING!”
ANOTHER TIME SKIP
Edward really lived up to his creep status. Not even a week after stalking the poor girl, he took her into the woods and confirmed that yes, he sparkled like a disco ball in direct sunlight, yes, he was a vampire, and yes, the rest of his family were too. You nearly sprinted into the woods to find the largest tree trunk available, solely to beat him with it.
Rule #1 (if there was a handbook): DO NOT REVEAL YOUR STATUS TO HUMANS.
And what did Edward do? He broke it. Crushed it. Set it on fire. Ran it over with his stupid Volvo. And then? Then he had the audacity—the pure nerve—to invite the girl to your home. Your safe place. The one place you guys didn't need to hide. You met them in the kitchen alongside the rest of your family who were busy making Italiano.
Edward practically glowed with smugness. “So, this is Bella.”
You stared at her.
She stared back.
You blinked slowly, once, twice, like a warning system rebooting. “…Why is she here?”
Esme gasped softly. “(Y/N)!”
Bella flushed, shrinking in on herself. “I—I didn’t mean to intrude—”
“You’re not intruding.” Edward reassured her, giving Bella a soft smile like he hadn't done anything wrong.
You pointed a stiff, accusing finger at him. “Oh, she absolutely is intruding. What happened to subtlety? What happened to discretion? What happened to keeping our kind a secret?”
Bella blinked nervously. “I apologize if me knowing brought you guys any problems—”
You barked a laugh.
Not a cute laugh.
A deranged older sibling losing their patience laugh.
“Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t bring us any problems. He did.”
Edward’s jaw tightened. “(Y/N)—”
“No, no, do not ‘(Y/N)’ me,” you snapped, stepping forward. “Do you have any idea how many decades—DECADES—we’ve spent keeping a low profile? Do you know how many times I’ve had to dodge nosy humans, animal control, conspiracy theorists, and that one lady who swore Emmett was Bigfoot?”
Emmett yelled from behind the kitchen counter, “SHE TOOK A PICTURE OF ME EATING A GRANOLA BAR—WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!”
You waved a dismissive hand. “Case in point.”
Bella’s eyes widened. “I—I didn’t know—”
“Of course you didn’t know,” you said. “And you shouldn’t have known anything. About any of us. Because Edward was supposed to handle this like a responsible adult. Instead, he took you to the forest like a dramatically depressed anime character and told you everything.”
Edward hissed, “It wasn’t like that—”
“Oh?” you said. “Did you or did you not ‘say it, out loud’ her into a supernatural TED Talk?” Edward opened his mouth. You didn’t let him finish. “Exactly, you dramatically confessed eternal damnation in a mossy forest like the world’s biggest theatre kid.”
At that moment, you heard the sound of a glass breaking and Jasper's slight cursing. You didn't need to be in the same room to know he looked like a man trying to balance a thousand knifes on his head while walking a tightrope over a pit of Bella-scented lava.
“Okay,” you muttered. “Time for intervention number twelve of the week.” You turned your back on the couple and stepped into the main living room where Jasper stood at the top of the staircase.
"Come on, bro." You said, grabbing him by the wrist and nudging him towards the back hallway where the exit was. "Let’s go take a long walk where no gremlins are messing with you."
Jasper gritted his teeth. “Thank you.”
Edward called out, annoyed, “We’re in the middle of a discussion—!”
You flipped him off without looking back. “Yeah? Well I’m in the middle of keeping your girlfriend alive. You’re welcome.”
𝒥asper isn’t the kind of jealous that shows itself loudly at first. he’s quiet, sharp, a slow burn of tension that coils in his chest the second he notices someone’s eyes lingering on you for too long.
it’s subtle, the way his jaw tightens or his hand ghosts against your lower back, anchoring you closer without even realizing he’s doing it.
he’ll play it off as casual, but underneath he’s burning with the urge to rip the attention away from you.
his empathy makes it worse. he feels people’s attraction to you, their interest, their lingering desire like a physical weight pressing into him. he feels it before you even notice and it makes his entire body go rigid.
that’s when the desperate possessiveness really sinks in: because jasper isn’t just imagining it, he knows when someone is thinking about you the way only he should.
in public, especially around strangers, he’ll stay very close. the lightest brush of his fingers against yours, guiding you through a crowd, keeping you tucked in his side. it’s protective but with an undercurrent of desperation, like he’s terrified someone might slip you away from him if he lets go.
if you ever pull away from him in public, even for something small, like moving your hand to grab something, he’ll instantly feel a sting of panic. he’ll never voice it in front of others, but later, in private, he’ll admit in a low, almost ashamed voice:
“don’t let go like that again, darlin’. you hear me? you don’t do that to me.”
if you ever laugh at someone else’s joke, jasper feels it hit him like a punch in the ribs. not because he doesn’t want you happy, but because he can taste the smugness, the spark of interest from the other person.
and when someone flirts with you, jasper doesn’t say much. he doesn’t even have to.
one dark look from those golden eyes, sharp and warning, and suddenly the air feels suffocating around whoever dared speak too sweetly to you.
they walk away pale, unsettled, without ever realizing jasper was pressing fear into their chest until it overwhelmed them. he won’t admit it out loud, but he uses his gift to push people away from you if they get too close.
you notice it most in his silence afterward. how his gaze lingers on you with something raw, almost painful. like he can’t breathe until he hears you reassure him that you’re his.
“you don’t even see it, darlin’,” he murmurs, voice tight. “the way they look at you. drives me near insane.”
he isn’t proud of it. his past taught him the dangers of letting his instincts win, but when it comes to you? his control frays. he can’t stand the idea of losing you, of someone else even imagining touching you.
sometimes he gets so desperate it slips into his tone. low, pleading and rough. “just… tell me you’re mine. please, remind me before i lose my mind.”
at night, when it’s just you and him, all that tension unravels into an almost aching tenderness. he’ll hold you tight against him, arms wound firmly around you as if to ward off the entire world.
his lips press into your hairline, whispering in that soft southern drawl: “don’t leave me, sugar. i couldn’t take it.”
around the family, he tries to keep it hidden. he doesn’t want to look weak or unstable. but they notice. the way his eyes follow you across the room, the way he subtly shifts so you’re always within arm’s reach. alice teases him, but the truth is: his yearning runs bone-deep.
he loves when you wear his clothes. it quiets that aching burn in his chest. seeing you in his shirt or jacket makes him feel like you’re marked as his, even in a world where he can’t exactly bite you without consequence.
when you reassure him, touch his hand, look him in the eye or say his name, it softens him instantly. it’s like pulling him back from the edge. he lives for those moments of grounding, where his desperate possessiveness eases into quiet devotion.
but deep down, jasper knows: he’d raze the earth before he let anyone take you from him.
Summary: Jasper finally gives into his want for you
Warnings: Smut; P in V; Fluff; bruising
Words: 3.4K
Notes: Sorry if it’s rushed and choppy - its been a while
Y/N's POV
The low hum of the TV fills the room, some old Western I put on to tease Jasper playing in the background. Muted gunfire crackles through the speakers, but my mind registers none of it. The only sound I hear—the only thing I feel—is the weight of Jasper’s gaze on me.
It’s subtle at first, a quiet pull, the kind of thing that creeps in slowly, like a shift in the air before a storm. But once I notice it, it’s impossible to ignore. Heat rises along the back of my neck, a slow and deliberate kind of warmth that spreads through me like liquid fire. My pulse flutters, reacting to something unspoken, something thick and heavy that lingers between us in the stillness of his bedroom.
I try my hardest to focus on the screen, but my body betrays me. My breath comes in quicker now, my skin tingling with an awareness I can’t shake and there’s the beginning of that familiar ache between my legs that Jasper still runs from. I will it to go, not wanting whatever is happening to stop.
And then I make the mistake of turning my head.
Jasper is waiting.
His golden eyes are darker than usual, soldering beneath the dim light, his expression unreadable yet impossibly intense. He’s stretched out behind me, propped against the pillows, his body relaxed but his presence anything but. His lips parting slightly, just enough for me to catch the faintest inhale, like he’s breathing just for the sake of drinking in the scent of my anticipation.
Something in my tightens and I clench my thighs together,
Before I can react, his fingers are on me—just the lightest of touches, grazing along my jaw, his knuckles trailing down to the delicate line of my throat. A shiver runs through me, my breath catching as he hooks a single finger beneath my chin.
I barely have a second to think before he tilts my head towards him and claims my most with his own.
The kiss is slow at first, teasing, his lips brushing against mine like a whisper of a promise. But then I sigh into him—melt into him—and something shifts. Jasper exhales sharply, like he’d have been holding his breath if he needed to, and then his mouth crashes into mine with a hunger that steal the air from my lungs.
His icy hands are on me now—one tangling in my hair, the other pressing against my hip, anchoring me to him. The weight of his body shifts as he leans over me, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping along my lower lip before sipping past my parted mouth.
A low, helpless sound escapes me, and Jasper groans in response—a deep, rumbling noise that vibrates against my skin, making my pulse stutter. His grip tightens, his fingers flexing against my waist as he shifts his weight, rolling me beneath him in one fluid motion.
I gasp, my back pressing into the mattress, but he doesn’t give me a second to recover. His mouth is everywhere—tracing the curve of my jaw, down the slope of my neck, pausing at my pulse point.
He stills.
I can feel the hesitation in his body, the war waging just beneath the surface. His lips hover, barely a breath away from my skin, and for the briefest moment, I wonder if he’s about to pull back. A soft whimper catching my throat.
But then his mouth presses there, at that delicate, vulnerable place, and he lingers.
A slow, measured kiss. Then another.
His lips linger against my throat, a slow drag of cool breath across overheated skin, and a soft whimper catches in my throat.
Jasper stills again.
For a heartbeat, I think he’s going to pull away completely, retreat into the self-imposed restraint that’s kept us hovering at the edge of this moment for far too long. But instead, he only shifts back slightly, just enough to see my face.
His golden eyes are molten now, darkened by something that has nothing to do with thirst and everything to do with the way I feel beneath him. His expression is unreadable, but his body betrays him—the faintest tremor in his hands where they grip my waist, the shallow rise and fall of his chest as he takes another steadying breath.
I reach up slowly, running my fingers through his golden curls, feeling the softness of them as they slip between my fingers. His eyes flutter closed for a moment, like he’s savouring the touch, and when they open again, there’s something raw in his gaze.
I let my hands drift lower, tracing the firm lines of his shoulders, feeling the strength coiled just beneath his skin. His muscles shift under my fingertips, tensing when my fingers ghost over the first button of his shirt.
I hesitate—just for a second, waiting, giving him the chance to stop me.
He doesn’t.
Instead, Jasper exhales softly, the faintest nod of permission, and I push the button through its hole.
Then another.
And another.
I take my time, revelling in the slow reveal of smooth, pale skin beneath my fingertips. He’s all hard lines and sculpted perfection, like something carved from marble—impossibly smooth, yet impossibly strong. My hands glide over the firm ridges of his chest, the faintest indentations of old scars marring the otherwise flawless expanse.
Jasper shudders at my touch.
Not from cold. Not from hesitation.
From want.
A thrill rushes through me at the realisation, heat coiling low in my stomach. My hands splay across his bare torso, feeling every ripple of his muscles beneath my touch as I slide them lower, over the defined lines of his abdomen, the sharp dip of his hips.
I shift beneath him, my leg hooking over his thigh, pulling him down against me.
Jasper gasps.
The sound is quiet, almost involuntary, but I feel it—the sharp inhale against my lips, the way his entire body tenses the moment my hips press flush against his.
He drops his forehead to mine, his breath coming faster now, uneven. Shaken.
"You have no idea," he murmurs, voice rough, strained, "how long I've wanted this."
My fingers tighten in his hair, pulling just enough to make his breath hitch. I tilt my chin, letting my lips brush against his in the lightest of teasing touches before whispering—
"Then stop holding back."
And just like that, Jasper breaks.
He crashes into me, his mouth searing, desperate, any last remnants of restraint burning away in the fire we’ve ignited between us.
Jasper's hands work with deliberate care, his fingers trailing down the fabric of my shirt as he tugs it over my head. I shiver as the cool air meets my bare skin, and he stills.
For a long, breathless moment, he just looks.
His golden eyes darken, his jaw tightening as a quiet, reverent groan escapes him. "Damn." The word is rough, almost guttural, and I barely have time to register the raw appreciation in his gaze before his hands return—featherlight at first, tracing the curve of my waist, the swell of my ribs, before he grips me with something closer to desperation.
His mouth is on me again, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone, down the center of my chest, worshiping every inch of bare skin he can reach. My head falls back against the pillows, my fingers tangling in his curls, tugging just enough to make him growl.
The sound sends a sharp thrill straight through me.
Then I feel it—his hands at the waistband of my jeans, fingers slipping beneath the fabric, teasing, waiting.
A shiver of anticipation rolls down my spine as I reach between us, my fingers seeking the metal button of his jeans.
I fumble.
A quiet, frustrated whimper leaves my lips when I struggle with the button, my hands trembling too much to work the damn thing free. Jasper lets out a breathy chuckle against my skin, the vibrations sending a delicious shudder through me.
"Need some help, darlin'?" His voice is thick with amusement, but there’s something else beneath it, something dangerous.
I shake my head, determined, my fingers working the button again, and finally, finally, it gives.
Jasper exhales sharply as I push the denim open, my hand skimming lower, feeling the hard planes of his abdomen beneath my palm. His entire body tenses, like he's barely holding himself together, and when I drag my nails lightly down his stomach, his breath hitches.
Jasper moves faster than I can process, his body shifting, pressing me deeper into the mattress as his mouth crashes against mine. There’s nothing hesitant about him anymore—only hunger, only the weight of his hands gripping my hips, his body caging me beneath him, every inch of him solid, unyielding.
The last of our clothing disappears in a blur of movement—denim sliding down my legs, his jeans hitting the floor with a quiet thud, leaving us bare, nothing between us but heat and want and the raw, electric tension that has been building for far too long.
And then I feel him.
Hard, heavy, pressing hot against the softness of my thigh. A strangled sound escapes my throat at the sheer intensity of it—the anticipation, the promise of what’s coming. My fingers grip his biceps, tracing the sculpted lines of muscle beneath skin that feels impossibly smooth, impossibly perfect. He shudders under my touch, his control fraying at the edges.
Jasper hovers over me, breath uneven, his golden eyes now dark—nearly black—with unrestrained want. His forehead rests against mine, his body trembling, but it’s not from fear. It’s something deeper, something almost reverent.
"Tell me to stop," he breathes, the words choked with barely controlled restraint. "Please."
I meet his eyes, seeing the plea in them. But I don’t want him to stop. I don’t want anything to stop. I pull him closer, guiding his hips so that his hardness presses into me, and I gasp at the feeling, the coolness of his body against mine only adding to the heat of our connection. I feel his breath catch as he shifts, his golden eyes dark with something untameable, something desperate.
"I don't want you to stop," I manage, my voice a whisper of need.
Jasper’s eyes flicker with something deep, something ancient, as he slides into me. Slowly, deliberately, his cool body easing into mine, stretching me in the most exquisite way. I bite my lip, stifling a gasp, and he immediately shifts, his hand coming up to cradle my face as he looks into my eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort, any hesitation.
His lips kiss my forehead gently, his hands soothing circles on my wrists as he fills me completely, the overwhelming sensation of him both foreign and familiar all at once. I breathe out slowly, letting my body adjust to the fullness of him. He doesn’t move yet, doesn’t rush. His eyes never leave mine, and in the silence that settles between us, I feel him. All of him. His control slipping as the deep bond between us builds, as he becomes attuned to every single beat of my heart, every flutter of my breath, reading my emotions with an intimacy that only he can.
And when he moves, when he pulls back slightly before thrusting into me again, I gasp—each movement deliberate, slow, measured, and full of reverence. He’s in no rush, and neither am I. Each stroke, each shift, is a promise. A promise of safety, of trust, of connection. He moves in a rhythm that makes me feel cherished and desired in ways that I never thought possible.
I feel my body move with his, and there’s a gentle push-pull between us, as if we are dancing—each movement perfectly timed, each touch an extension of something deeper. The bed beneath us groans, and I laugh softly against his lips. His grip tightens, his muscles flexing under the strain, and with a soft crack, the bed gives way beneath us, collapsing onto the floor.
Jasper pulls back slightly, and for the briefest moment, he looks panicked, searching for anywhere I’m hurt but instead I’m tangling a hand into those delicious curls and tugging his lips back to mine, needing him to move again and being oh so close. The duel action of yanking his hair and slamming my lips to him has him letting out a growl that has me wrapping my legs around the vampire’s waist.
“Jazz,” I whine against his lips and his blunt nails dig into my waist, so hard I know I’ll handprint bruises for at least a week and that thought alone has me throwing my head back in a silent scream of bliss. Jasper slams into me hard, forcing my body up what’s left of me the bed more, his whole body shaking as he tries to keep control. He’s so close, I can feel him pulsing inside me so I squeeze myself and let all my emotions flow from me.
It has Jasper burying his face in my neck, fangs brushing my jugular as he lets out a growl, slamming himself inside me one last time before his hips jerk, his come filling me fuller than I ever thought possible. All I can do is lay there as his hips jerk in overstimulation and he slowly lets himself fall on top of me, my hands brushing through those soft curls as I try to catch my breath.
We don’t move for a while, only when Jasper can begin to sense the ache in my bones beginning and he’s slowly easing himself onto his elbows, head lowered as he looks between us, watching as he eases himself from me, watching as my lips flutter with the sudden emptiness. “Fuck doll, you have no idea what you do to me.”
Jasper rises from what’s left of the bed, leaving me to lay there and watch as he moves around his room looking for things before he tells me to sit tight and with his vampire speed he’s gone, the sound of the bath running next door before he’s back.
Jasper rises slowly from the wreckage of the bed, the sound of wood creaking softly under his weight as he stands. I stay where I am, tangled in the sheets, propped up on one elbow as I watch him move around the room with an effortless grace, his golden eyes scanning the room like he's searching for something—though I know it’s just his way of regaining control. The rush of adrenaline and intensity is starting to settle, leaving behind a pleasant weight of fatigue, the ache of muscles that never quite had a chance to relax.
He pauses, his gaze flicking over to me as if making sure I'm still okay. Then, with a soft sigh, he moves toward the door, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sit tight. I'll be back in a second."
Before I can respond, he's gone, the sound of his feet barely registering as he disappears with a flash of vampire speed. The air in the room seems to thicken, and for a moment, I just lay there, the softness of the ruined bed beneath me and the warmth of his absence surrounding me like a comforting cloak. I hear the distant sound of running water from the bathroom next door, and I can’t help but smile softly, knowing exactly what he’s preparing for. I’m grateful for him, for his thoughtfulness.
Moments later, Jasper reappears, the door creaking open softly as he steps inside, his presence filling the space as he carries a small towel in his hand. His eyes meet mine immediately, flickering with tenderness. He moves toward the remnants of the bed, sitting down with a fluid motion beside me. The air feels thick with the aftermath of everything we’ve just shared—the unspoken emotions, the tenderness that still lingers between us like an invisible thread that binds us even closer.
"Let me help you up," he says softly, his voice full of care as he reaches out, his cool fingers grazing my skin as he helps me sit up. I wince slightly, feeling the residual ache of our intense connection settling into my body, but it’s a good kind of pain—one that reminds me of everything we just shared. I lean into him, feeling the warmth of his body as he wraps his arm around my shoulders, supporting me as I rest against him.
The bed is barely intact, but I feel safe with him, held close in the quiet aftermath of everything. His cold skin against mine is oddly comforting, and I close my eyes, letting the quiet settle around us.
"Are you alright?" Jasper murmurs, his voice low, full of concern as his hand gently strokes the back of my neck, his fingers soft against my skin. His touch is soothing, and I find myself relaxing into him, the slight ache in my body still there but fading slowly under his care.
"I’m fine," I whisper back, my voice heavy with a weariness that I can’t quite shake off. "Just... a little tired, that’s all."
He nods softly, pressing a tender kiss to the top of my head before pulling me closer. I rest my head against his shoulder, feeling his cool, steady presence surrounding me, grounding me in this space between us. There’s something so calming in his stillness, in the way he holds me with such reverence, as if I’m something precious, something he can’t bear to lose.
"I love you," he says after a beat, his voice soft but filled with conviction. His hand traces small circles on my shoulder as he continues, "I love the way you make me feel—like I’m human again, even if I’m not. I love the way you laugh, the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. The way you trust me…"
I shift slightly, looking up at him as he speaks, feeling a flutter of emotion in my chest. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the world outside of us fades. There’s only him, only the truth of his words sinking into me like a promise.
"I love the way you make me want to be better," he continues, his voice almost a whisper. "You make me want to be the man I always wished I could be. You make me feel like I'm worthy of this—worthy of you."
His words are soft, but they hit me in a way that feels like a deep exhale, like the release of something I didn’t realise I was holding onto. He’s always been good at hiding his emotions, but in this moment, there’s nothing left for him to hide. His love for me is as clear as the stars in the sky, and it makes me feel small and cherished at the same time.
"Jasper…" My voice is barely a breath, my words fading against his skin as I sigh softly, feeling the weight of his love wash over me.
"I love you more than you know," he murmurs, pressing another gentle kiss to my forehead. "More than I ever thought possible."
The silence that follows is filled with the warmth of his presence, the rhythmic sound of the bath running next door, and the steady beat of his breath—though it’s not his heartbeat that reassures me, it’s the steady pulse of his love, the promise in every word he’s spoken. I close my eyes, the exhaustion from everything we’ve shared pulling me deeper into his embrace.
"Rest now," he whispers, his voice a lullaby. "We’ll take the bath together in a minute, but for now… just stay with me."
I nod, allowing myself to sink further into him, the weight of sleep beginning to settle in, the fatigue of our night finally catching up to me. His arms tighten around me, holding me close as I rest my head on his shoulder, my breath evening out in the calm of the moment.
The gentle hum of the water running next door, combined with the softness of his touch, lulls me into a peaceful sleep. The last thing I remember before drifting off is the feel of Jasper's cool skin against mine, the sound of his voice telling me how much he loves me, and the overwhelming sense of being utterly, completely safe.
And in his arms, I know I’m exactly where I belong.
Summary: Alice's vision is clear - Jasper will meet his blood singer and once that happens, her fate would be sealed. However, when he finds her, Jasper manages to resist the thirst, long enough for his family to step in and save them both from a tragedy. The vision predicted more than death for her and Jasper wasn't ready for what it meant. As years pass, Y/N meets someone new, someone who will lead her straight back to Forks to face her destiny.
Warnings: injury, blood and death, angst, fluff, grief, swearing, sexual content, mentions of mental health struggles, alcohol and more (most chapters will have their own warnings)
Total word count: 309.5k
Status: Complete
Pairing: Jasper Hale x human!reader (blood singer), Paul Lahote x human!reader
