...
The Twilight Twenty-Five
thetwilight25[dot]livejournal[dot]com
Prompt: #01
Pen name: stolenxsanity
Pairing: Jasper/Bella, BPOV
Rating: M
Photos for prompts 1, 7, 13, 19, & 25 can be found here:
community[dot]livejournal[dot]com/thetwilight25/16325[dot]html
...
I hung off the couch upside down, my legs resting on the back and my mussed up hair floating just above the ground. My cheeks ached from the almost-permanent grin that had taken over my face what felt like hours ago. Time had all but ceased to exist since I'd opened the front door earlier in the evening to find Jasper standing there, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and the letter I'd hidden in his notebook in the other. His eyes were rimmed red and swollen. I knew it wasn't a symptom of the liquor he held. His breath was clear of the sickly-sweet scent that I'd come to associate with the amber colored liquid that sloshed around its glass confines. I was struck speechless for half a second as we just stared at each other silently, the only sounds permeating our little bubble coming from behind the walls and closed doors of my neighbors. It wasn't that I didn't have anything to say, I just didn't want to put a voice to those thoughts for fear that this was all just a hallucination borne from sleepless, tear-filled nights, and he'd disappear as soon as I opened my mouth to speak.
And then, as if a switch had flipped, Jasper had stepped forward and closed the space between us quickly. The bottle he'd been grasping landed on the carpeted floor with a dull thud and his free hand clutched at my waist. He pulled me closer, almost impossibly so, as his mouth met mine. The kiss was all teeth and tongue, fast strokes and sharp nips as we converged seamlessly, as if everything that had happened in the past week no longer existed. Without thought, my arms had wound themselves around his neck, tugging and pulling and gripping him oh so tight. I never wanted to let go, never wanted to be separated from him again. Breathy moans escaped as we continued to kiss, my feet moving us backward, into the warm confines of my apartment, and my foot kicked out aimlessly toward the door. The resounding slam had startled us, albeit briefly, and we'd slowly separated. Fingers lingered over bare flesh before pulling back completely.
I'd never expected him to return the way he did, having read it, my feelings that scrawled across a flimsy piece of paper. I remembered writing it as tears streaked down my face, dripping soundlessly from my chin, the tip of the pen digging and ripping with the added pressure on the words I'd needed to emphasize. By the time I'd finished bearing my heart and soul, the page was slightly crumpled, torn in some spots, and splattered with blotches of ink from where my tears had fallen and smeared the words I'd been afraid to give him. That fear had been the reason he'd left in the first place, and even though it had hurt, I understood why. He couldn't fight someone that wasn't there physically, and constantly living in the shadow of a ghost had brought us both more heartache than I knew what to do with. Jasper's solution had been to run, the very thing that he'd been trying to keep me from doing for the better part of the last year. Logical or not, it had worked, and I'd finally been honest with him
Against all odds, and despite the fact that I thought I'd lost him forever, Jasper was here, only a few feet away puttering around in the kitchen. The grin on his face mirrored my own and as he caught my eye for what felt like the millionth time in the span of only a few minutes, a giddy sort of laughter bubbled up from deep inside my chest.
I loved him, and he finally knew.
Lifting my legs, I flipped off the couch, landing on the carpet knees first. Pausing for a brief moment to regain my bearings, I laughed softly to myself in surprise. Somehow, I'd managed to complete the move without injuring myself in the process.
"What's so funny?" Jasper asked, his southern drawl laced with a hint of amusement as his movements stilled.
"I'm just … happy," I responded, grinning wider. "Almost impossibly so. I feel free, untouchable; like I could do anything I wanted right now and not fail."
"Is that why you're on the floor?" His question was paired with an arched eyebrow and I playfully glared at him as I stood and brushed my knees off, the action more reflexive than necessary.
"Laugh if you must," I responded, my head tilted upward with a feigned air of condescension.
Distracted, I hadn't noticed Jasper's movements until he was standing right in front of me, his palms hot on my skin where my shirt had ridden up. "I like it," he murmured as his fingers flexed, digging into my flesh. "And I love you…"
At his words, I felt my breath catch in my throat. My eyes flickered between his, reading the inherent truth in them, and I exhaled slowly. "I love you, too," I replied quietly, the words still feeling foreign in my mouth, even though I meant them more than I ever had before; more than I ever would again.
"I know." It was simple fact, a whispered acknowledgment of the words I'd given him on paper, and highlighted by the smile that pulled up the corners of his lips before they were on mine. I felt his hands moving, palms splayed out across my lower back and sliding upward, lifting my shirt with it. Gripping the hem of the thin cotton material, I completed the task for him, pulling it up and over my head before letting the fabric fall to the floor in a crumpled heap. His mouth curved into a smirk at the action, and he leaned his head back, letting his eyes move over my body, and the bare flesh of my abdomen and chest.
"No bra?" The question was rhetorical, but even if I'd wanted to answer, he didn't give me a chance to. The next few minutes passed in a flurry of heated kisses and discarded garments until we were both standing in the middle of my small living room completely naked. I could feel his cock, hard and hot between us, pressed into my stomach as he moved us back toward the couch. Our breaths were heavy and harsh, and our hands were everywhere, trying to touch as much of each other as possible. Fingers tangled in loose strands of hair, palms ran up and down chests and backs, fitting over every curve and grasping at sweat-slicked skin, teeth and mouths and tongues nipped, sucked and licked at inch upon inch of bare flesh.
"Bedroom or …" The implied question trailed off into silence as Jasper brushed his lips over my neck slowly, back and forth, making my knees buckle.
"Don't care," I breathed in response as my nails dug into his back, and one leg hitched up and over his hip. A groan rumbled up from deep within his chest at the contact, and the friction, the movement caused, before he lifted me off the floor. Both legs automatically wrapped around his waist and I moaned loudly, the sound muffled as I buried my face into the crook of his neck. I could feel his erection pressed against where I really wanted it to be as he moved through the apartment, grasping and kneading my backside with every step.
By the time we reached the bedroom, and I was bouncing lightly on the soft mattress, I was desperate for him. The look in his eyes, and the expression on his face, let me know that he felt exactly the same way. Shuffling backward, I crooked my finger, urging him forward. A smile flickered across my lips as he followed, crawling up the bed toward me until I was caged beneath his body, between his arms, and against the headboard. My entire body felt like it was ablaze as I urged him closer with my hands on his shoulders. I needed to feel him on top of me, around me, inside me, and I needed it now.
"Please…" I whimpered, trailing off as I pulled his face to mine and peppered kisses along his jaw line and up to his ear. "I need you, Jazz… I missed you. So much…"
A deep inhale, and Jasper's warm breath across my cheek, was the only response I got before he spread my legs further apart and situated himself between them. "I missed you, too," he murmured after a moment, his finger idly tracing concentric patterns across my stomach, moving lower with each pass. "I didn't think that…" He shook his head, seemingly at a loss for words. He didn't need to put voice to his thoughts, though. I understood.
"I know," I whispered, the sound barely audible as I echoed his earlier statement.
Disclaimer: Twilight and any/all recognizable components belong to SMeyer.
A/N: Thanks to naelany for pre-reading/beta'ing, as per usual. And thank you all for reading this, and future posts here.
What is "The Twilight Twenty-Five?"
The Twilight Twenty-Five – or TT25 – is a LiveJournal community that challenges the authors who have signed up to write twenty-five one-shots and/or drabbles using predetermined prompts as a starting point over a three month period. A drabble is defined as a work of fiction that is no more or no less than one-hundred words, even while, in this context, a one-shot is defined as a work of twific that is a minimum of 1K words.
Where can I find this LiveJournal Community?
The link is posted on my FFn profile.