#embry call

you'd just started getting used to the feeling of him in cowgirl and missionary when he threw a new twist at you - reverse cowgirl. "jake i can't-" you whimpered, looking over your shoulder at him only to see his eyes softening at he looked up at you.

he honestly wasn't all that concerned about you being able to take him from this angle; he knew you could, but he was more than aware that you'd need a hell of a lot of coaxing to figure that out yourself.

"just the tip, yea, sweet girl?" he smiled up at you, his pointer finger reaching down from your hip to press down on your clit, the action resulting in you letting out a shaky breath, desperately trying to keep yourself up so you wouldn't take more than the tip of his cock on accident.

jake absolutely could've been doing more to support you and keep you in place but he figured you'd eventually give in and start to slide down his cock - whether it was because of the burning in your thighs or because of the pleasure coursing through you, either way, he knew he'd be getting what he wanted.

"so good for me," he cooed, rubbing tight, slow circles against your clit that had you whining and sliding your hands over your thighs in a desperate attempt to gain some control back, "already drippin' down me, sweet girl," he mused, his gaze dropping down to where your pussy was throbbing around the tip of his cock, your nectar glistening as it rolled down his cock.

a quiet whine escaped your lips as he rolled your nub between his fingers, "such a smart girl," he praised, and you suddenly became much more aware of the fire deep in your womb, spreading more and more as your orgasm built, "gettin' me all nice and wet so you can take me," he hummed in approval as another gush of your slick came rolling down his cock.

"jake-" you whimpered, voice catching in a whine when he applied a bit more pressure to your nerves, the action providing just enough stimulation to have your orgasm creeping up on you, "jake please-" you begged, fingers tightening against your thighs as you fought to keep yourself upright as the pleasure tightened deep in your core, threatening to snap at any moment.

"just like that sweet girl - let it out for me," jake encouraged, applying a bit more pressure to your clit that had your thighs shaking as you came. a loud moan escaped your lips, your orgasm washing over you in waves as your thighs gave out.

jake took full advantage of the situation, continuing to gently rub at your clit to work you through your orgasm as he helped you sink down his cock the rest of the way. your walls throbbed around him as you rode your orgasm out, and, if you weren't so lost in your own pleasure, the stretch of having him so deep inside you would've burned more than you could handle.

instead, the stretch faded to the back of your mind as the pleasure washed through you, the waves slowly fading in intensity as you came back to him.

jake slid one hand over your naval, the other sliding up your chest to roll one of your nipples between his fingers as he eased you backwards, "my good girl," he murmured when your back met his chest, your belly bulging against his hand from how tightly his cock had been nestled in your canal in response to the new position.

the more you came back to your senses, the more you became aware of the way he had molded your canal to a shape perfect for his cock, "jake," you whined, movements slow and groggy as you tried to roll off of him and find some reprieve from the gradually intensifying stretch.

jake held you in place, his hands sliding down your thighs until he found the backs of them, "take a deep breath sweet girl, let me do the work," he murmured, tugging your thighs back until they pressed tight against your chest, giving him all the leverage he needed to have you completely at his mercy despite him being underneath you.

"oh my god," you whined, head dropping back against jake's chest when he pulled his cock back, drawing his hips into the bed until only the tip remained, giving you only a moment's reprieve before he was sheathing himself back inside you, his cock punching all the air out of your lungs.

you swore you could feel him in your throat, every part of you molding to better fit for him and him only. by the time he was done with you, you were confident you'd only know his name with the way he had you melting around him.

moans and whines began falling from your lips as he held you tight, balled up against his chest, your pussy completely exposed and at his mercy as he bullied his cock in and out of your channel.

"oh fuck jake i-" you gasped when he hinged his hips to push just that much deeper into you, kissing your swollen and pink cervix, ripe just waiting for his seed to coat her.

"jus' gotta lay here and take it, sweet girl," jake's voice had gotten significantly tighter since his cock had fully sheathed in your pussy. you numbly nodded along, trying to relax back into him, but every punch of his cock against your cervix had you jolting in pleasure.

"gonna cum in you, paint this pussy white so everyone knows she's mine," jake gritted out, his thrusts increasing in tempo and roughness as he battered your hole, both of you running out of breath as he fucked you within an inch of your life.

"oh you like that," he let out a dark chuckle when your walls fluttered around him at his words. you managed to focus your eyes for just a few seconds, looking down at your belly, between your spread thighs that were pinned to your chest, to see a distinctly jake-sized bulge shifting in your belly, appearing in time with his thrusts.

"you want that? want everyone to see just how good i'm fucking you? want them to see how pretty your pussy looks with my cum stuffed in you?" you couldn't manage a coherent response, though the way your toes were curling and the loud moan that escaped your lips told him all he needed to know.

"fuck i'll take a picture when i'm done with you, show everyone just how well i fill you up," jake gritted out, his hands tightening their grip on your thighs to pin you even closer to him. his balls tightened, drawing up as your womb throbbed, both of you teetering on the edge of orgasm.

"jake please-" you gasped out, tears rolling down your cheeks and thighs in response to the onslaught of sensory overload - all you knew was you needed to cum and have jake fall over that edge with you.

you mind chanted his name over and over until it was all that was left, your world whiting out as you came undone rather suddenly, your entire body tightening as the pleasure hit you like a freight train.

if you thought your earlier orgasm was strong, you couldn't have been more wrong. being pinned against jake as you came forced you to succumb to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you, his thrusts somehow picking up as he chased his own release.

it didn't take him long, and he was a man of his word, his cock shooting ropes of his release into your channel, the sheer volume of it combined with jake's heavy cock forcing some of it to seep out of you and down your ass and onto his naval.

"take it all," jake groaned as he rode out his orgasm, rolling his hips against yours as his release slowed from a stream to a trickle.

you rolled your head into the crook of his neck, whining as his grip on your thighs softened. his fingers gently massage the muscles there, helping you unclench them, before he was slowly lowering them back down so your legs could rest on either side of his.

"did such a good job takin' me," jake murmured, his warm, calloused hands sliding over your belly to hold you close to him. one hand gently ran over your naval to feel the still present bulge there even as his cock softened inside you.

you hummed, glowing from his praise as he pressed his lips to your temple, "i love you," he whispered, gently squeezing you a bit tighter to him.

Sam Uley

For Sam, the moment isn’t loud, it’s quiet. It’s late, the rain coming down soft and steady outside the cabin. You’ve fallen asleep on the couch, a blanket slipping off your shoulder. He’s across the room when he looks up and sees you, really sees you. Not as his imprint, not as someone he’s meant to protect, but as the center of his world.

And it hits him, this bone-deep truth that he would burn down everything if it meant keeping you safe.

He walks over, kneels by the couch, and carefully tucks the blanket back around you. His hand lingers, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

There’s a faint smile on his lips, the kind that holds more pain than joy, because it scares him, how much he feels.

“You have no idea,” he whispers, voice rough.

He thinks about the way you look at him, not as a leader, not as someone broken by guilt, but as Sam. Just Sam.

And in that moment, he knows he’d do anything. Stand against the pack. Walk away from everything he’s built. Anything, if it meant you’d never cry because of him again.

It’s not about obsession for Sam, it’s about surrender. The quiet kind that reshapes a man from the inside out.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

Jared Cameron

For Jared, it happens in the most ordinary way possible, you’re sitting cross-legged on the porch, a cup of coffee in hand, laughing at something he said. There’s no big moment, no danger, no fight, just you, sunlight on your skin, your laugh mixing with the sound of the ocean.

And then it hits him.

He’s done for. Completely, hopelessly.

His grin falters for half a second, eyes softening as he just stares. You don’t even notice, you’re still talking, still alive in the moment.

His heart does this strange flip, half warmth, half ache.

“You good?” you ask, smiling at him, and he just shakes his head a little, that dimple showing. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m great.”

But inside, something shifts. The thought settles in deep: I’d do anything for her. Not because of the imprint, because of you.

Later that night, when you’re curled up in his hoodie, asleep on his chest, he whispers it aloud. “Anything. You just say the word.”

For Jared, love isn’t a vow, it’s an instinct. It’s already written in his pulse, in the way he moves closer when you sigh, in the way he’d throw himself between you and the world without a second thought.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

Paul Lahote

Paul’s realization is raw, like a punch to the chest. It happens after an argument, voices raised, emotions snapping like wire. You’d stormed off, and he’d let you, but the second you were out of sight, something broke inside him.

He’s pacing, furious at himself for letting it get that far, and then the thought comes, sharp and terrifying: I can’t lose her. Not her.

The anger fades into panic, his hands trembling slightly. He doesn’t even realize he’s shifting until his chest tightens, the wolf part of him clawing at the edges.

He finds you by the cliffs, sitting with your knees to your chest, eyes red.

When you look up, ready to argue again, he just shakes his head and says, “Don’t. Please.” His voice is low, breaking. “I can’t do this without you.”

You blink at him, confused by the rawness, but he takes a step closer. “You don’t get it,” he says, softer this time. “I’d fight anyone. Anything. Even myself, if it meant keeping you.”

Later, when you let him hold you, he presses his face into your neck and whispers, “You’re it for me.” It’s not a confession. It’s a truth that’s been there all along, he’s just finally admitted it to himself.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

Jacob Black

Jacob’s realization comes slow, steady, like a sunrise. He’s always cared deeply, that’s just who he is. But one day, while you’re sitting in the garage helping him tinker with the Rabbit, grease smudged on your cheek, he catches himself watching you laugh at his terrible jokes… and something inside him goes still.

It’s different. He’s loved before, but never like this. Never in a way that feels like his entire life just reoriented around someone else.

You ask him a question about the car, and he doesn’t even hear it at first, too busy watching the way the light hits your face.

“Jake?” you say, laughing a little, and he blinks, shaking his head. “Yeah, sorry. Just spaced.”

He smiles, but there’s something deeper behind it now. A realization, a weight. He’d give anything for you. Even the things he thought he’d never let go of.

That night, when you fall asleep against him, his arm curled protectively around you, he breathes in the scent of your hair and thinks, This is it. This is what home feels like.

He presses a soft kiss to your head, his voice barely a whisper. “Whatever happens, I’ve got you. Always.”

For Jacob, love isn’t just devotion, it’s purpose. It’s the anchor that steadies him, even when everything else threatens to pull him apart.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

Quil Ateara

For Quil, it happens so naturally he almost doesn’t notice it, until it hits him all at once. You’re sitting cross-legged on the sand, the bonfire painting your face in warm gold, laughing so hard you’re crying at something Embry said. And Quil’s just… watching you.

Not in the usual way, not with that easy smile and teasing glint. No, this time, it’s quiet. Still. He feels it hit him low in his chest, this warmth, this certainty.

He’d do anything for you. Without question. Without thought. Without hesitation.

He doesn’t even realize he’s stopped laughing until Jared elbows him and mutters, “Dude, you’re staring.”

Quil just grins, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he says softly, eyes still on you. “Guess I am.”

Later that night, when you’re shivering a little from the ocean breeze, he shrugs off his hoodie and wraps it around your shoulders. You start to protest, but he just shakes his head.

“Don’t argue. You come first, remember?” he says, voice gentle but firm.

And that’s the moment it cements, this instinct that’s already written into his bones. The kind that says: I’ll always put you first. Always.

He doesn’t tell you that, though. He just smiles when you look up at him and say thanks, but inside, he already knows. He’s yours, and that’s never going to change.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

Embry Call

Embry’s moment comes on a rough day. You’d both had a fight, something small that grew too fast, too sharp. You walked away before either of you said something you’d regret.

He spends the next hour pacing near the tree line, the wolf in him restless, uneasy. Every instinct screams to go after you, but he waits, gives you space, like you asked. It’s agony. And that’s when it hits him: he’d do anything for you, even the hard things, even learning to hold back when every part of him wants to run to you.

He finds you sitting by the cliffs, staring at the water. You don’t turn when he sits beside you.

The silence stretches until he finally says, “I hate fighting with you.” His voice cracks just slightly.

You sigh, leaning against him, and he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for hours.

“You make me crazy,” he says softly, eyes on the horizon. “But I’d still pick you. Every time.”

And when you finally smile, small, tired, but real, he feels it all the way to his core.

That’s Embry’s truth: his love runs deep, steady, unshakable. He doesn’t need grand gestures or promises. Just that quiet certainty that no matter what, he’s yours, heart, soul, and everything in between.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

Leah Clearwater

For Leah, the realization scares her more than anything. She’s built walls so high she forgot what it felt like to want to let someone in. But then there’s you, patient, kind, stubborn enough to stay even when she tries to push you away.

It happens one night when you show up at her door after a long patrol, a bag of takeout in your hands and that smile she swears she doesn’t love. You sit with her, eat, talk about nothing, and when you finally fall asleep on her shoulder halfway through a movie, she freezes.

And then it hits her like a wave: I’d do anything to keep this safe.

She looks down at you, her jaw tightening because the thought terrifies her.

You murmur something in your sleep and shift closer, your hand finding hers, and her breath catches.

She squeezes your fingers gently, her chest aching with something soft and sharp at once.

“You’re trouble,” she whispers, but her voice shakes.

Later, when you wake up and smile at her like nothing in the world could go wrong, she realizes she’s done for.

For Leah, love doesn’t come easy, but when it does, it’s fierce. She’d fight the whole damn world for you, even if it scares her to admit it out loud.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

Seth Clearwater

Seth’s realization is pure warmth. He’s always been loyal, always protective, but this? This is something deeper. It happens when you’re hurt, not badly, just a twisted ankle from tripping over a rock on one of your hikes. He panics anyway.

You’re laughing, brushing it off, but Seth’s already crouched in front of you, inspecting it like it’s the end of the world. His hands are gentle, his brow furrowed, his voice low with worry.

“It’s just a sprain, Seth,” you insist, but he shakes his head.

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean I can’t carry you,” he says, and before you can argue, you’re in his arms.

You roll your eyes, but your heart stutters when you see the look on his face, that mix of focus and care, like you’re something precious he refuses to let break.

Later, after he’s patched you up and you’re sitting on his lap with ice on your ankle, he finally admits, “I don’t ever want to see you hurt. Not if I can stop it.”

And that’s when he knows, it’s not just protectiveness. It’s devotion. Pure and simple.

Bella rolled her eyes, shoved Y/N aside, and knocked on the door. Jacob’s father opened the door and tried to stop Bella from coming inside, but she simply pushed past him. “I’m so sorry,” Y/N muttered, doing the same thing as her sister.

“Damn it, Bel…” Y/N trailed off when she realized Bella wasn’t inside the house anymore, instead heading toward the four men standing outside.

She quickly ran after her. When she caught up to her, she tried to pull her sister away. “Bella, please, let’s just go. You can’t always make such a scene!”

Bella, however, tried to break free from her grip and continued to yell at Sam Uley.

“Yes, Bella, listen to your sister and get out of here!” The man Sam was trying to calm down spoke up. Bella didn’t like his tone, she finally broke free and punched the man.

Y/N spun around in shock, “Paul, no!” Sam pulled her aside at the last moment. Still in shock, she fell to the ground and stared at the massive wolf in front of her. Horrified, she screamed and tried to crawl backward, bumping into Sam’s legs in the process.

The wolf looked in her direction, which made the young girl even more panicked; he didn't notice Jacob running toward her, just as he had lost interest in Bella. Now he seemed to be focusing solely on Y/N. The wolf whimpered once, as if he could sense her fear, and lay down on the ground in front of Y/N, his ears flattened.

Confused and overwhelmed, Y/N looked up at Sam. “Please tell me a six-foot-tall wolf that was a human just two seconds ago hasn’t just laid down in front of me… and while you’re at it, I’m hallucinating, right?”

“Well, I guess the wolf is out of the bag!” “Not helpful, Embry!”

Sam knelt down next to Y/N, gently wrapping his arms around her waist, which didn’t sit well with Paul. He jumped up and began to growl, but with a stern look from Sam and a command to go into the woods, he quickly fell silent, glanced back once more at the trembling young girl, and disappeared into the woods.

Sam turned his attention back to Y/N. “Are you okay?” She blinked at the man, let him help her up, and shook her head. “Is that a trick question?”

Jake came over to Y/N’s side and helped steady her. “Take both of them to Emily’s. We’ll explain everything there.” Y/N nodded silently and watched Sam follow the wolf into the woods.

“Can you make it to the car on your own?” Jake looked at her searchingly. Y/N shook her head, as she was still trembling. The dark-haired man nodded and lifted Y/N into his arms.

“I’m sorry, Jake.” He looked down at her, confused. “What are you sorry for?” “I wanted to stop Bella.” Jake laughed. “You know her. It would have been a miracle if you’d managed it.”

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“Who do we have here, and what happened to that poor girl?” Emily stood at the entrance, looking around questioningly. “That’s Bella and Y/N Swan. Paul transformed in front of them, and Y/N’s been in a bit of a state ever since.” Jared looked at her with concern.

“Sit Y/N down on the sofa.” Emily gestured toward the living room and followed with a cup in her hand. “Drink this; you’ll feel better afterward.” Y/N took a sip and smiled; the warm cocoa warmed her up, finally allowing her bones to relax. “Thanks,” she murmured quietly to herself.

“Do you need anything else?” Jake looked at her questioningly. “Answers would be great.” Embry came over and draped a blanket over her. “You’ll get them, but it would be better if you talked to Paul first.”

Just then, Sam and Paul walked in. Sam went over to Emily and kissed her.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Paul said, looking at her with a slight smile as he sat down at the table. Y/N, infected by his smile, smiled into her mug. “You don’t have to be sorry. Bella needs to learn not to jump on people all the time.” Bella gasped, “I just thought…” “And that’s usually the problem!” Everyone started laughing; Jake nudged Y/N, while Bella glared at her.

Y/N snuggled up to Jake. She was cold, and now that the shock had worn off, she was getting tired.

“Jake, maybe you should take Bella and Y/N home.” Sam looked at the girl, who was almost asleep. Paul, who had been focused on his muffin, watched as Jake picked up Y/N and disappeared with Bella. He wanted to follow them, but Sam stopped him. “Give her time; she needs to process what she saw today first.” Reluctantly, Paul sat back down, but watched after the car longer than it was even visible.

---------------------------------------------------

Y/N had woken up in her room but couldn’t fall back asleep. No matter how many times she turned over and closed her eyes, she couldn’t get Paul out of her head. The way he’d looked at her in his wolf form, and just as much in his human form. As if he’d known her his whole life.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a noise at her window. Confused, she sat up and heard it again—like small stones hitting her bedroom window.

Y/N got up, walked over to the window, and opened it. “Paul?” “Can I come up?” Confused, she nodded, taking a step back.

With an ease that left Y/N speechless, Paul jumped into her room.

The young girl cleared her throat slightly, looking at him more closely. She raised an eyebrow. “Hey, do you have a problem with a T-shirt?” Confused, Paul looked down at himself, but quickly began grinning at her. “Am I distracting you?” Y/N blushed and looked away. “A little.”

“Why are you here, Paul? Surely not to show off your bare chest to me again?” The young girl sat down on her bed.

The black-haired boy shook his head as he sat down next to her.

“I’m here because I couldn’t sleep without knowing how you’re feeling. "To be honest, I’m not exactly sure myself. I’m confused. I knew vampires existed, and now there are werewolves too? It’s a lot.” Y/N paused, thinking carefully about what to say next. “But what interests me most is why you reacted that way to me? You were so angry at Bella, and I thought you were going to attack her, but then nothing happened. It was as if all your anger had vanished.”

Paul turned to Y/N, gently took her hands in his, watching her react to his touch. When he noticed that Y/N didn’t tense up, he continued,

“I suppose Jake told you about us.” Y/N nodded slowly, looking her companion straight in the eyes. “But he left out one detail, since it’s my part to explain it to you.” Paul took a deep breath. “We wolves imprint. You can think of it as a soulmate bond. From the moment of our imprinting, we no longer feel bound to the ground by gravity, but by our imprint. We would give everything for her, just as we would be everything for her. A friend, a brother, or a lover. The most important thing is that we’re with her and can protect her.”

Y/N nodded, studying Paul’s features. He seemed almost shy, and although Y/N didn’t know him that well yet, she suspected that this was a trait Paul Lahote wouldn’t describe in the slightest under normal circumstances.

“And you’re telling me this because I’m your imprint?” Paul nodded. “Y/N, that doesn’t mean we have to fall in love with each other. I can be anything you want. I just want to ask if you’d be open to the idea of getting to know me better, so we can see where the imprint might lead.”

The young girl swallowed. She knew a lot would change. Fear crept into her; was she ready for this? Was she ready to let a stranger get so close to her?

Y/N looked closely at the man in front of her. But what could possibly happen? She was his imprint, and Y/N had the feeling that Paul would do anything to not hurt her.

“I’ll be open to it, I promise.”

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After the evening Y/N made her promise to Paul, a new life began for the young Swan. She spent every free minute with the wolf pack. She slept most of the time at Jacob’s place, in a room Billy had set up for her.

It even got to the point where Billy spoke to Charlie, saying it would be best if Y/N attended school in the reservation. Charlie wasn’t thrilled at first, but he hadn’t seen his daughter this happy in a long time, so he agreed.

Paul and she began to get to know each other better and better; they even went on dates. Y/N also didn’t go into shock as easily anymore whenever she saw one of the boys or Leah in their wolf forms. She even started to love it when she could run through their fur.

Y/N was sitting on the beach in La Push, lost in thought, when Paul called out to her. Smiling, she turned to him and looked at him questioningly. “Are you coming to the bonfire tonight?” Nodding, Y/N laughed as Paul picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

“Paul!” she cried out, tapping him lightly on the back. They weren’t a couple yet, but every day Y/N realized more and more how she was falling in love with him.

However, along with this feeling, fear also spread through her. She couldn’t get the thought out of her head that maybe Paul only liked her because of the imprinting.

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“What are you thinking about?” Paul sat down next to Y/N by the fire. She had been staring absently into the flames the whole time, asking herself the same question over and over again. “Nothing.” She closed her eyes. Y/N didn’t even believe her own words—so how could she expect Paul to? Paul nodded, unconvinced, stood up without a word, and held out his hand to Y/N.

“We should talk.” His tone was serious, which made Y/N pause; he hadn’t been like this toward her during the weeks they’d been getting to know each other. With slightly trembling fingers, she took his hand and let him lead her toward the beach.

The two walked side by side along the sand in silence.

Abruptly, he stopped and stood in front of her, letting go of her hand.

“Now that we’re alone, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Since last week, you’ve been lost in thought the whole time, you seem to be pulling away from me. Did I do something or…,” Y/N didn’t let Paul finish. “That’s not it.” “Then what is it?” “I’m starting to fall in love with you, Paul…”

Paul was silent for a moment, “And what’s so bad about that?”

Y/N took a deep breath. This was exactly what she’d been afraid of. Telling him what was going on inside her, but Paul took the words right out of her mouth. Because from her reaction, he could see what was wrong. “You’re afraid my feelings aren’t real because of the imprinting, aren’t you?” The young girl didn’t dare look him in the eyes, nor could she stop the tears that were welling up. Paul ran his fingers through his hair, desperate about the situation and wondering if he’d done something wrong.

Y/N heard him breathe in and out. She knew he needed to calm down.

“Y/N…” Paul gently cupped her face so she had to look at him. “The imprinting has nothing to do with my feelings for you. Nothing is forcing me to love you. Nothing is forcing me to think about you all the time. Nothing is forcing me to want to be near you 24 hours a day.”

“Paul, I’m scared. I need time to understand…” Paul let go of her, took several steps back, almost as if he’d burned himself on her skin. “So you want some space?” Y/N nodded; she knew it wasn’t fair to him. But she was confused and overwhelmed. Paul said nothing more, looked at her for one last moment, then simply turned around and disappeared.

“Fuck!” Y/N covered her face with her hands and began to cry. Emily, who had been sent by Sam—he must have heard Paul’s thoughts—placed a hand on the young girl’s shoulder and pulled her into an embrace. “I know,” she murmured as Y/N began to cry harder. “I want to go home.”

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Three days had passed and she hadn’t heard from Paul. Even though that was exactly what Y/N wanted, it still hurt her. Y/N was lying in the bed she had at Billy’s place, eating nothing and barely sleeping, just staring at the wall and wondering why she was putting Paul and herself in the wrong. When it was obvious that they both had feelings for each other.

“Y/N, this can’t go on any longer!” Jake stood in front of her bed and looked down at her sadly. The young girl hadn’t even noticed how he’d come in.

“Go away!” Jake rolled his eyes and pulled the blanket off her. “No, I’m not leaving. First of all, you stink, and second, I can’t stand hearing you cry and sink into self-pity anymore!”

Y/N turned toward him and tried to get her blanket back. Jake, who didn’t want to let Y/N crawl back into her hole, grabbed her, threw her over his shoulder, and stomped toward the bathroom. He turned on the shower and placed her, fully clothed, under it.

“Jacob Black! What’s this supposed to achieve?!” Y/N turned off the shower and glared at him. “I can sense how bad Paul’s doing, and I can see how bad you’re doing! Go take a shower, and then we’ll talk!” Jake slammed the bathroom door shut behind him.

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“Better?” “Better,” Y/N mumbled, taking the sandwich Billy held out to her.

“So what was the problem between you and Paul?” “You must know—aren’t you two linked or something?” “We can block each other out; the ‘link,’ as you call it, isn’t 24/7. We just know that Paul isn’t doing well, and you obviously aren’t either. So what’s the problem?”

“I’m the problem, okay!” Y/N pushed the plate away from her and stared at her hands. “I’ve fallen in love with Paul.” Jake gave her a confused look. “Isn’t that actually a good thing?” “It is, but…”

Jake gave her an impatient look. “Y/N, spit it out!” “I’m afraid his feelings are only there because I’m his imprint!” Billy and Jake both stared at the young girl, speechless.

“Y/N.” Billy took her hands. “Just because you’re his imprint doesn’t mean his feelings aren’t real. Because when a wolf imprints, it can also just form a deep friendship between them and their imprint. Falling in love is solely their own decision.”

Doubtfully, the young Swan looked at Billy. “How sure can you be of that?” “Very sure. While the bond does have a pull on us, making us want and need to protect them, everything else is up to us,” Jake interjected.

Sadly, Y/N exhaled, “Then I guess I really messed it up, didn’t I?” Jake shook his head. “Go to him and talk to him. He’s at his place; I can drive you there.” “But first, you’re going to eat something, young lady!” Billy gave her a stern, fatherly look and pushed her plate back in front of her. Smiling, Y/N took a bite of her sandwich.

----------------------------------------------------------------

“Paul?” Y/N knocked gently on the door of his house. When there was no answer, she stepped inside cautiously.

Jake had told her that Paul had been living with Sam and Emily until recently. But, with Sam’s permission, he had started building a house on a piece of land farther away that belonged to him and Emily.

As Y/N stepped inside for the first time, she took in the wooden house. It was small, but she could imagine living here with him. Still, she noticed that it felt cold. The interior was half-hearted. There was a sofa in front of a fireplace, but the fireplace wasn’t lit. The kitchen looked unused. She went up the stairs and looked straight into a bedroom. It was dark, with a mattress in the middle where she could make out Paul’s silhouette.

She cautiously entered the room and crouched down next to him. She looked at his sleeping face. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, and his cheeks looked sunken.

It hurt her to see him like this, because after all, it was her fault. Neither of them was doing well, and that was only because she had let fear get the better of her.

Y/N gently stroked Paul’s cheek. He flinched slightly but didn’t wake up. After a moment’s thought, she stood up and took off her jacket, as well as her shoes. She placed everything in a corner of the room and laid down next to him. Paul, who seemed to sense her presence in his sleep, immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. The young girl breathed in his scent deeply and immediately drifted into a deep sleep. A sleep that was long overdue for both of them.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

“I can literally feel you staring at me.”

Y/N opened her eyes, blinking. Paul had turned onto his side and watched her sleep. When he woke up, with the scent of his imprint in his nose and someone in his arms, he couldn’t believe it at first. Paul was convinced that after their time apart, Y/N saw him only as a friend and nothing more. It would have hurt him, but he would have accepted it. Anything was better than having no contact with her at all.

Carefully, almost as if Paul were afraid Y/N might shatter at his touch, he placed his hand on her cheek.

“What are you doing here?”

Y/N placed her hand on Paul’s wrist. “I’m here because I want to apologize.” Paul wanted to interrupt her, but she wouldn’t let him. “It wasn’t fair of me to ask you to keep your distance. It wasn’t fair that I didn’t listen to you, but let my fear get the better of me. I’ve thought a lot about the imprinting and us.” Y/N removed her hand from Paul’s and sat up straight in front of him; he did the same, leaning his upper body against the wall.

“I understand now. Your feelings are real; they have nothing to do with the imprinting. I honestly think it’s something else that’s worrying me.”

Paul, who was watching Y/N closely, leaned forward, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her onto his lap. “You can tell me anything; I won’t judge you.”

Paul began tracing light circles on Y/N’s hips.

“I’m afraid to get involved with you because you’re my first.” Paul paused his movements. “What do you mean?”

“You’d be my first kiss, my first boyfriend, and my first time. My first love. It scares me, Paul, to let someone get this close to me. Still, I’m excited and glad that it’s you, Paul.”

Paul was silent for a moment; he let his hands slide up from Y/N’s waist to her cheeks. He forced her to look him in the eyes. “What exactly do you feel for me, Y/N?” “I love you, Paul.” Paul began to smile, leaned forward, but paused just before Y/N’s lips. “May I kiss you?” The young girl smiled, “Only if you tell me how you feel about me.” Paul chuckled softly, “I love you too!” Paul pulled her close and kissed her passionately. He poured all the feelings of the past few weeks into that kiss, even having to break it for a moment to smile. “What?” Y/N looked at him, smiling just as much. “I was afraid the distance would drive us apart, and now you’re sitting on top of me, half-naked, if I may point that out.”

Confused, Y/N looked down at herself and only now noticed that she was sitting on Paul wearing nothing but shorts and a sports bra. He was wearing only boxer shorts. “I curse you and your heat! I was wearing more than this when I fell asleep!”

Y/N leaned down to kiss Paul again. He placed his hands back on her waist, his grip tightening slightly as Y/N moved to snuggle up against him, her hands in his hair.

“Y/N!” Paul’s voice was deep; he was slightly out of breath. Y/N looked at him innocently, aware of the bulge between her legs that was slowly growing. “Paul.” He closed his eyes. “If we don’t stop now, I can’t promise it’ll just be your first kiss!”

Y/N didn’t even think twice as she leaned down again to bring Paul’s lips to hers once more.

Paul’s hand rested on her neck, his thumb against her jaw. His lips trailed down to her collarbone, where he planted kisses. Y/N was sure everyone would know what had happened the next day, but she didn’t care.

When he reached her bra, he looked at her again. “Are you sure?” Blushing, Y/N nodded. Paul gave her another little kiss on the lips, then helped her out of her bra. “God, you look beautiful, ” he murmured as he lowered his lips to her breasts and kissed every inch he could reach.

Y/N tried to stifle her moans. She was embarrassed. But Paul didn’t like that at all. With a swift movement, he turned them both around. Y/N gasped in surprise. “No one can hear you here, Y/N; you don’t need to hide.” He pressed his lips to hers, but didn’t stay there long. He kissed his way down her neck, between her breasts, and along her stomach. When he reached her waistband, he grabbed it, sat up slightly, and helped Y/N take them off. Paul let his hands glide over Y/N’s thighs, gently pushing them apart as he did so. He studied Y/N’s body closely, every detail. “Fate has sent me a goddess.”

The young girl blushed, giggling.

Y/N propped herself up on her elbow, looked at Paul in confusion, her breath catching. Everything inside her tightened, but in a good way, one she had never felt before. “What are you doing? Paul grinned at her, “I’ll make sure you can’t hide your moans anymore!”

He took off his boxers and slowly slid between Y/N’s legs. He forced Y/N to lie back down.

Paul kissed his imprint deeply, taking her right hand in his. “Are you really sure, Y/N? We have our whole lives together to share this experience.” “I know, but I want it now, here with you.”

“Bella,” he said flatly.

“Hey, Jake.”

Sam’s gaze flicked to her, then to Y/N. His expression tightened, but he said nothing.

Y/N crossed her arms. “Don’t stop the party on our account.”

Jacob’s jaw flexed. “What are you doing here, Y/N?”

“Bella wanted to make sure you’re not dead,” she said coolly. “So far, so good.”

Embry tried to hide a laugh. Jacob shot him a glare.

“Can we talk alone?” Bella asked.

“Not a good idea,” Sam said quietly. “We’re in the middle of something.”

Bella frowned. “Middle of what?”

Jacob’s eyes dropped, then lifted — and Y/N noticed something strange in them. A shimmer, like sunlight off dark water, before he looked away.

“Pack business,” he muttered.

“Right,” Y/N said. “Because you’re a secret club now?”

That earned her several grins. Paul Lahote snorted. “She’s got bite.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Jacob growled.

“Oh, I don’t need encouragement.”

Sam looked between them. “Maybe take a walk, Jacob. Clear the air.”

Jacob stood abruptly, chair scraping. “Fine.”

He stomped off toward the tree line, muttering under his breath. Bella followed — and Y/N, because she wasn’t about to let her friend wander into the woods with a guy built like a professional linebacker.

When they caught up, Jacob was pacing. “Bella, I told you not to come.”

“Because you’re mad? Or because you’re hiding something?” Y/N asked.

He spun, glare sharp. “You always have to talk, don’t you?”

“Usually when people act like jerks, yes.”

“Then maybe stay out of it.”

Y/N tilted her head, tone deceptively calm. “Can’t. It’s in my nature to annoy you.”

Something flickered in his expression — frustration, heat, something deeper. Then he turned away.

Bella sighed. “I’ll wait by the car.” She left, leaving Y/N and Jacob facing each other amid the trees.

“Great,” Y/N said. “Just what I wanted: alone time with Mr. Moodswing.”

Jacob barked a humorless laugh. “You think you know everything, huh?”

“I know enough to see you’ve been avoiding her and everyone else. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

He met her gaze — and then froze.

For a heartbeat, Y/N thought she’d said something wrong. His pupils widened, his chest stilled like he’d forgotten to breathe.

“Jacob?”

He blinked, swallowed hard. The world seemed to narrow around him. The sound of wind, the smell of earth — everything blurred until there was only her. Y/N. Every heartbeat in his body lined up with hers like they’d been rewired.

Oh, no.

Not her.

The pull slammed through him like gravity turned sideways. He could feel the others at the edge of his mind — the pack, the hive of thoughts he hated — and knew they felt it too.

Jake? Quil’s voice in his head was sharp with disbelief. No way.

He clenched his fists. “Shut up,” he muttered aloud.

Y/N frowned. “Excuse me?”

Before he could answer, a branch snapped behind them. The pack spilled out from the woods, drawn by the sudden flood of emotion echoing through their link.

“What the hell just happened?” Paul demanded.

“Jacob imprinted,” Quil said, half-laughing, half-in awe. “Holy crap, dude — on her?”

Every face turned toward Y/N.

She blinked. “I’m sorry — on who?”

Embry choked back a laugh. “Oh, this is rich.”

Jacob’s jaw tightened. His entire body trembled with the effort not to explode.

Sam stepped forward. “Jake.”

“I know,” Jacob ground out.

“What’s imprinting?” Y/N asked, arms crossed.

Paul grinned. “It’s when one of us wolves meets their soulmate. Can’t fight it, can’t change it. Happens once.”

Y/N stared. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Quil said cheerfully. “Congratulations, you just broke Jacob Black’s brain.”

“Shut up!” Jacob snapped.

The pack snickered; even Sam looked torn between amusement and concern.

Y/N took a step back. “Okay, this is officially insane.”

Jacob turned to her, panic and frustration battling behind his eyes. “It’s not— look, I didn’t—”

“Imprint on me?” she supplied, voice sharp with disbelief. “Yeah, that’s what they said.”

He exhaled hard. “I didn’t choose this.”

“Good. Because I didn’t either.”

Paul let out a low whistle. “This is going to be fun.”

Sam shot him a warning look. “Enough.” He turned to Y/N, voice gentler. “You should probably give him some space. This is… a lot.”

“Yeah,” Y/N said dryly, “I noticed.”

Jacob’s fists unclenched slowly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Never said you would.” Her tone softened — barely. “Just don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m the only person on the planet.”

Silence. Even the pack stopped breathing.

Y/N shook her head and turned toward the path. “Tell Bella I’m going home.”

She walked away before anyone could stop her.

The pack looked at Jacob.

“Man,” Embry said, trying not to grin, “you are so screwed.”

Jacob dropped onto a fallen log, elbows on his knees, hands buried in his hair. “You think I don’t know that?”

Sam sighed. “You’ll need to explain it to her. When she’s ready.”

“She hates me.”

“Not hate,” Quil said. “Mild loathing. Big difference.”

Paul smirked. “Still hilarious.”

Jacob threw him a glare. “Laugh it up, Lahote.”

But Paul’s grin faded as he caught the look in Jacob’s eyes — that raw, terrified vulnerability the imprint always carved open.

“Good luck, man,” he muttered, and followed the others back toward the house.

Jacob stayed there, listening to the sound of Y/N’s car engine fade. The bond hummed inside him like static, pulling in her direction. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t push it away.

He whispered to no one, “Why her?”

The forest gave no answer.

By the time Y/N’s car hit the highway out of La Push, her hands were shaking. Not from fear — from disbelief.

Imprint. Soulmate. Wolves.

It sounded like a bad joke, the kind Jacob Black would’ve told just to annoy her. The only problem was that he hadn’t been joking. And those guys — that pack — had looked dead serious.

Her phone buzzed. Bella.

BELLA: What happened??

Y/N: Long story. He’s fine.

BELLA: Did you talk to him?

Y/N: You could say that.

She turned the phone face-down. Every time she blinked, she saw Jacob’s eyes — the exact moment something inside him changed. That look like he’d just been struck by lightning and could see nothing but her.

It made her chest hurt in a way she didn’t like to name.

⸻

Back at Sam’s place, the pack hadn’t moved far. Laughter bubbled and died in turns — half amusement, half disbelief.

Quil threw a chip at Jacob. “So… how’s your soulmate doing?”

Jacob didn’t even glance up. “Don’t start.”

Embry leaned against the railing. “She really doesn’t like you, huh?”

Jacob gave him a dead stare. “You think?”

Paul snorted. “Man, of all the girls in Forks — it had to be Bella’s friend? That’s poetic justice.”

“Shut up, Paul.”

Sam finally intervened, voice calm but firm. “Enough. He’s got a lot to process.”

“Understatement,” Jacob muttered.

Sam crouched beside him. “You know what this means, right? You can’t fight the bond, Jake. You’ll feel it pulling.”

“I already do,” he admitted quietly. “Like she’s still standing right in front of me.”

Sam’s expression softened. “You can learn to handle it. Give her space. Let her come to you when she’s ready.”

Jacob shook his head. “She’s never going to be ready.”

“Maybe not today. But someday.”

Jacob didn’t answer. He just stared into the trees, where her car had disappeared, and tried to steady the storm inside him.

⸻

Two days later, Y/N found herself back in La Push. Against her better judgment.

Bella had begged her to drop off a textbook Jacob had left at her place — an excuse so transparent even Bella looked guilty about it. But Y/N had agreed anyway. Maybe she wanted closure. Maybe she wanted to prove the whole thing was ridiculous.

When she parked near the beach, the pack was there again, throwing rocks into the surf. She spotted Jacob instantly — tall, broad, hair tied back, wearing the same expression she remembered: equal parts anger and guilt.

Embry saw her first. “Uh-oh.”

Quil grinned. “Round two.”

Jacob turned. The second their eyes met, the world tilted again — not as violently this time, but with the same inevitability. His heartbeat found hers like it couldn’t help it.

Y/N swallowed hard. “Bella asked me to bring this.” She held up the book.

He walked over, careful, every step measured like he was approaching a wild animal.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I didn’t want to,” she said plainly.

A ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth — the first in days. “Still honest.”

“Still annoying,” she countered.

He took the book, their fingers brushing for a second too long. Heat sparked up her arm, the same dizzy pull she’d seen in his eyes. She pulled back quickly.

“Stop doing that,” she said, voice low.

“Doing what?”

“Looking at me like that.”

“I can’t help it.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. “It’s not something I can turn off.”

She studied him, expression unreadable. “So you really believe all that? That I’m your… imprint?”

His jaw tightened. “I don’t just believe it. I feel it. Every second.”

“That sounds like obsession.”

“It’s not.” He hesitated. “It’s… connection. You don’t have to feel it back. But I can’t ignore it.”

For a moment, the only sound was the ocean.

From behind them, Embry called, “Want us to give you two a minute, Romeo?”

“Go away!” Jacob shouted without turning.

Laughter echoed down the beach.

Y/N crossed her arms. “They’re enjoying this way too much.”

“They always do.”

“Then maybe we should give them a show,” she said dryly.

Jacob blinked, confused — until he saw the faint curve of her mouth. She was joking. Sort of.

Despite himself, he laughed. It was short, rough, but real.

“Guess the apocalypse isn’t today,” she said.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Silence fell again, heavier this time.

He looked at her, every word tasting like surrender. “I didn’t want this to happen. Not like this.”

Y/N’s tone softened. “I know.”

“I don’t even know how to be around you without… whatever this is getting in the way.”

“Maybe you don’t,” she said. “Maybe you just… be around me anyway. And let it be weird.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “You think that’ll work?”

“No. But it’ll annoy you, which is a decent consolation prize.”

That earned a small smile.

Behind them, Paul muttered, “They’re totally gonna fall for each other.”

“Shut up,” Jacob said, not looking away from her.

For a second, everything else disappeared — the pack, the waves, the confusion. Just her standing there, steady and impossible, like the universe had dropped an anchor he couldn’t pull up.

Y/N exhaled slowly. “I’m not promising anything.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“But you’re not letting go, are you?”

He shook his head once. “Can’t.”

“Figures.”

She started toward her car. Halfway there, she glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t follow me.”

“I won’t,” he said. And meant it.

But as she drove away, the bond thrummed through him again — quiet but unbreakable.

Embry jogged up beside him. “So… that went well?”

Jacob groaned. “Shut up.”

“Hey, she didn’t hit you. Progress.”

Paul smirked. “Give it time.”

Sam’s voice cut through their laughter. “Leave him alone.”

The others wandered off, still snickering. Sam lingered. “You handled that better than I expected.”

Jacob rubbed the back of his neck. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“She’ll come around. Or she won’t. Either way, you’ll learn to live with it.”

Jacob looked out at the waves, eyes fixed on the horizon where Y/N’s car had vanished.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “We’ll see.”

The wind carried the scent of rain and salt and something warmer — the lingering echo of her presence. It wrapped around him, both comfort and curse.

He stood there until the sky turned silver and the pack’s voices faded behind him.

And when the first drops of rain hit the sand, Jacob whispered what he hadn’t said to anyone:

“I didn’t want this.”

But even as he said it, he knew it didn’t matter.

The bond was already written in his bones.

Disclaimer:

For the past month, the air in the Black household's garage had been thick with the scent of grease, gasoline, and a camaraderie that didn't include you. The space was constantly filled with the clink of metal tools and the easy laughter shared between Jacob Black and Bella Swan.

You sat on an overturned crate in the corner, a half-eaten sandwich forgotten in your lap. Jacob was bent over a rusted motorcycle frame, his face flushed with excitement as he explained the mechanics of a carburetor to Bella. She leaned in close, hanging onto his every word as if it were a lifeline.

"Hey, Jake?" you called out, your voice soft and tentative as you tried to bridge the miles of emotional distance that had settled between you. "Do you want to grab that movie later tonight? The one you said you wanted to see?"

Jacob didn’t even look up from the engine. "Can't tonight, babe. I promised Bella we’d finish mounting this block. Maybe tomorrow?"

Bella offered a small, apologetic shrug, but the gesture didn't reach her eyes. To you, it never felt sincere. Ever since Edward Cullen had vanished from Forks, leaving a wake of gloom in his departure, Bella had practically moved into Jacob’s garage. In the process, you had been effectively demoted from Jacob’s girlfriend to a silent background prop—an afterthought in your own relationship.

"Hey!" Quil’s boisterous voice cut through the tension as he swung into the garage, Embry trailing quietly in his shadow.

Embry walked past the busy duo—who barely acknowledged the newcomers—and immediately zeroed in on you. He pulled up a weathered plastic bucket, flipping it over to sit right beside your crate.

“Hey," he said softly, offering a lopsided smile that instantly warmed the chilly La Push air. "You look bored out of your mind.” he held out a pack of candy, “Want half my Twizzlers?”

"Hey, Embry," you sighed, forcing a weak, flickering smile that didn't quite hold. "No... I’m okay. Not really hungry."

His brow furrowed with a sudden, sharp worry. "Everything okay?"

"Just... the usual," you muttered, gesturing vaguely toward the center of the room where Jacob was now laughing at something Bella had whispered.

Embry’s jaw tightened visibly as he glanced at Jacob, a flash of fierce, protective frustration crossing his features. He looked back at you, his expression softening into something incredibly gentle, almost mournful.

"Come on," he said, standing up and offering you a hand. "Let’s get out of this damp garage. It’s too crowded in here anyway. I’ll walk you down to First Beach; the tide is coming in. You can tell me all about how much of an idiot Black is being, and I promise to agree with every word."

For the rest of the afternoon, Embry didn't leave your side. As the grey waves crashed against the shore, he talked effortlessly, shifting from complaints about a gruelling math assignment to a ridiculous, drawn-out argument he’d had with Quil over something completely trivial. He did everything in his power to keep your mind anchored in the present, far away from the image of Jacob, Bella, and those grease-stained motorcycles.

He was funny, intensely attentive, and he actually listened to you. Every time you managed a genuine laugh, Embry’s eyes would light up, a faint flush creeping up his neck. He’d had a crush on you since the eighth grade—long before Jacob had ever even noticed you—but he had buried it deep the moment you and Jacob became official.Standing on the sidelines, acting as the supportive best friend, was a specialty he had forced himself to master. But watching the quiet, persistent hurt in your eyes lately was rapidly testing his limits.

The breaking point came three days later.

You had just walked into the Black household when Jacob caught you by the arm, pulling you into the narrow hallway before you could even reach the kitchen. His expression was strained, and he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, unable to hold your gaze for more than a second.

"Listen," Jacob started, rubbing the back of his neck, his knuckles raw from working on engines. "Bella’s coming over in a few minutes. She’s... she’s still really fragile, you know? With the whole Cullen thing. She feels kind of awkward and crowded when there are too many people around."

You blinked, a cold, heavy knot instantly forming in your stomach. "Crowded? Jacob, I’m your girlfriend. I live down the road."

"I know! I know," he said quickly, throwing his hands up in a defensive gesture. "But she just needs a safe space right now to distract herself. Could you maybe... just not come over when she’s here? Just for a little while?"

The slap in the face couldn't have been any clearer. The breath hitched in your throat. "You're banning me from your house so you can hang out with another girl?"

"It’s not like that!" Jacob shot back, his voice rising as frustration bled into his tone. "Why do you have to make everything so difficult? She’s falling apart, and she needs me right now!"

"And I need my boyfriend!" you shouted back, the sudden volume of your own voice startling you as tears of anger and humiliation pricked your eyes. "But clearly, Jacob, you’ve already picked your priority. And it isn't me."

You didn’t wait around to hear whatever hollow excuse he would try to piece together. Spinning on your heel, you bolted out of the hallway and slammed the heavy front door behind you, marching blindly down the gravel path. The thick La Push rain blurred the landscape into a grey haze, and you didn't see the tall figure jogging up the trail until you collided directly into a broad, solid chest.

"Whoa! Hey, careful—"

Large hands gripped your shoulders to steady you. You looked up through a veil of tears and into Embry’s startled face. The moment he registered your watery eyes and trembling lip, his entire demeanour shifted instantly.

"y/n? Hey, hey, what's wrong? What happened?"

The sheer gentleness in his voice broke the final dam holding back your composure. A sharp sob escaped your throat, the hot tears finally spilling over and mixing with the rain. Without a second thought, Embry pulled you tightly against him. He didn’t care that you were dripping wet or that your breath was coming in ragged gasps; he just held you, his body radiating a strange, intense heat that completely shielded you from the biting coastal wind.

"What happened?" Embry demanded, his voice dropping an octave into a low, dangerous rumble. "Did Jacob do this?"

You couldn't even force the words out. You just nodded against his chest, another sob racking your frame. Embry's grip tightened, wrapping his arms around you so securely that the rest of the world simply faded away. He rocked you slightly, pressing his chin to the top of your head as if trying to absorb your pain into his own skin.

"I've got you," he whispered fiercely. He pulled back just enough to shrug off his heavy flannel shirt, draping the oversized, remarkably warm fabric around your shivering shoulders. "Come on. Let's get you away from here."

For the rest of that evening, Embry didn't leave your side for a single second. He took you back to his place, made you a mug of hot chocolate, and sat quietly on the couch while you poured your heart out. He didn't offer any weak defences for Jacob's behaviour. Instead, he just listened, gazing at you with such tenderness that it made your breath catch, his thumb reaching out to gently wipe away a stray tear from your cheek.

Over the next week, this became your new normal. You and Embry were practically inseparable. He took you on long hikes through the dense, green cliffs, walked you home from school every single day, and made sure you never felt like a third wheel even when Quil tagged along. Wrapped in his undivided attention, you began to notice the subtle shifts—the way his eyes would linger on your lips when you paused mid-sentence, the way his hand would warmly hover at your waist when guiding you through a crowd. Amidst the wreckage of your relationship with Jacob, a tiny, unspoken spark was beginning to ignite.

Then, exactly a week after the blowout, Jacob showed up on your porch.

He looked utterly miserable. His shoulders were slumped, and heavy, dark circles shadowed his eyes. He practically begged for your forgiveness, swearing up and down that he had been a blind idiot, that he loved you, and that he would balance his time properly from now on. Wanting desperately to believe in the boy you had originally fallen for, you let your guard down and accepted his apology.

Later that afternoon, you were sitting on the grey pebbles of First Beach with Embry when you casually brought it up.

"Jacob came by the house today," you said, tossing a flat pebble into the crashing, white-capped waves. "He apologized. We... we're going to try and work things out."

Beside you, Embry went completely, terrifyingly rigid.

"What?" His voice was dangerously quiet.

"I mean, we never officially broke up, so—" You cut yourself off, turning to look at him, and instantly gasped.

The temperature around him had skyrocketed, and Embry was shaking. It wasn't just a nervous tremor; it was a violent, full-body vibration that seemed to rattle his very bones. His jaw was clenched so hard the muscles jumped, his skin was flushed a deep crimson, and a strange, low growling sound was vibrating deep within his chest.

"Embry? Are you okay?" You reached out, alarmed, to touch his arm, but he flinched away from your hand with a sudden, violent jerk.

"You're going back to him?!" Embry snapped. When he locked eyes with you, they were flashing with a wild, erratic sort of anger that sent a chill straight down your spine. "After how he treated you? After he literally threw you out of his house for her?!"

"Embry, please, it's complicated—"

"It's not complicated! He's a fool!" Embry roared, surging to his feet so fast he kicked up a blinding cloud of dark sand. He gripped his head in his hands, gasping for air as his chest heaved and his body continued to shudder violently. "He doesn't deserve you! He doesn't even see what he has right in front of him, and you just... you just let him crawl back—!"

"Embry, stop! You're scaring me!" you cried out, instinctively scrambling backward on the stones.

At the sound of your frightened voice, he froze. He looked down at you, his eyes wide, wild, and bloodshot, filled with a mixture of agony, longing, and fury. He looked as though he were about to literally burst out of his own skin.

With a choked, agonized sound that was half-sob, half-growl, Embry turned on his heel and bolted into the tree line, disappearing into the thick, dark woods at a terrifying, impossible speed that didn't seem human.

That was two weeks ago.

You hadn't seen or heard a single word from Embry since. When you finally built up the courage to ask his mother, she vaguely told you he was down with a terrible, sudden "fever," but the silence had stretched on endlessly. It left a hollow, nagging ache in your chest that you simply couldn't shake. You missed him terribly. You missed his easy laughter, his grounding warmth, and the simple way he actually looked at you—as if you mattered.

Because despite Jacob’s grand, desperate apology on your porch, absolutely nothing had changed.

You sat on the exact same overturned crate in the corner of the garage, the familiar, suffocating smell of motor oil and grease filling your nose. Jacob was currently laughing at something Bella had just muttered, his hand casually, comfortably resting on her shoulder as he guided her wrench to tighten a bolt. He hadn't spoken more than ten words to you since you had arrived an hour ago.

Your stomach twisted in a sickening, heavy wave of realization. Jacob’s apology hadn't been about fixing his relationship with you; it had been about clearing his own conscience. It was a selfish bid to erase his guilt so he could go right back to doing exactly what he wanted.

You looked down at your hands, feeling a profound, crushing exhaustion settle deep into your bones. You were so incredibly tired of being the backup choice. You were so tired of being invisible.

As Jacob’s booming laugh echoed through the rafters of the garage once more, your mind didn't even drift toward him. Instead, your thoughts pulled you backward, as they always did lately, to Embry. Your fingers unconsciously traced the hem of your shirt, and looking down at your lap, you realized you were still wearing the oversized, faded flannel he had draped over your shoulders the day it rained—the only tangible thing you had left of him.

You closed your eyes, thinking of hot chocolate, a comforting embrace that made you feel utterly safe, and the gentle gaze of a boy who had looked at you like you were the only person in the entire world.

Standing up from the crate, the clinking of metal tools and the murmurs of the garage faded into distant, meaningless background noise. You didn't bother saying goodbye to Jacob—you knew he wouldn't notice your absence anyway. Stepping out into the cool La Push rain, you pulled Embry's flannel tighter around yourself, finally ready to go look for the one person who actually wanted you with him.

You went under the guise of returning the shirt, but when you reached his house, you found him slipping out through the back door. You stopped dead in your tracks. He had changed. He had grown—impossibly so—and his long hair was gone, replaced by a dark cropped cut. He was shirtless in the rain, revealing a physique of lean, powerful muscle, and a bold, circular tattoo was stamped onto the curve of his shoulder.

“Embry?” you breathed, the name more a question than a greeting.

He froze. His entire body locked up, the broad muscles of his back tensing beneath the light sheen of rain already misting over his bare skin. Slowly, he turned around to face you.

Your breath caught in your throat. This wasn't the lanky, awkward boy who had sat beside your crate just two weeks ago. Embry had shot up several inches, his chest and shoulders filled out with a heavy, intimidating strength. The loss of his long hair made the sharp, hard lines of his jawline stand out with a newfound maturity.

“What do you want, y/n?” he asked. His voice had dropped an octave, vibrating with a depth that made your skin prickle.

You flinched at the coldness of his tone. You looked down at the soft plaid fabric clutched tightly in your hands, suddenly feeling very small and out of place. "I... I came to return your flannel," you whispered, your voice trembling. "You left it with me. Before you..." You gestured vaguely toward the woods, your words trailing off into the sound of the rain.

Embry looked down at the shirt, then back up at your face. As he took you in, his stony expression began to fracture. His eyes traced the faint redness around your eyelids and the damp hair clinging to your pale cheeks. He saw the way you were shivering, looking small and lost in the oversized fabric of his old life.

In a split second, the harsh tension left his shoulders, replaced by that familiar, fierce protectiveness that always seemed to ground you. The air between you was growing warmer by the second from the new-found heat he carried, and for the first time in weeks, the cold began to fade.

He knew Sam’s rules. He knew he was supposed to keep his distance, to keep the secret, to tell you to go home. But instead, he found himself crossing the distance between you in two long, impossibly fast strides. The heat radiating off him hit you before he even reached you—a wave of warmth so intense it felt like stepping toward a roaring hearth.

"You're freezing," he muttered, his voice a low, rough growl. His hands hovered over your shoulders for a fraction of a second, hesitation flickering in his eyes before he made a decision. He wrapped his large, burning hands around your upper arms, pulling you closer to his chest to shield your body from the biting wind. "What are you doing out here? Where's Jacob?"

Hearing the name made something inside you finally snap. The last remnants of your patience, of your agonizing willingness to be second best, evaporated into the mist.

"I left him," you stated, looking up at him with a clarity you hadn't felt in months. "He’s at the garage. With Bella. When he finally realizes I'm gone and calls, I’ll tell him it’s over. For good."

"You left him?" Embry's grip on your arms tightened, his dark eyes finally locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart hammer frantically against your ribs.

The world seemed to stop spinning. The steady, rhythmic patter of the La Push rain died out, replaced entirely by the loud, erratic thumping of Embry’s pulse. He didn't blink. He just stared into your eyes.

He was trembling, but it wasn't the violent, explosive shaking from two weeks ago. His gaze swept over your features—the curve of your jaw, the dampness of your eyelashes, the quiet determination hiding beneath your exhaustion—as if he were seeing you for the very first time.

"Embry?" you whispered, your voice catching. "What's wrong?"

He couldn't answer you. He couldn't even catch his breath. The invisible strings that had tied him to his mother, to his friends, to his duty on the reservation, all snapped cleanly in two.

It wasn't gravity holding him to the earth anymore. It was you. Everything he was, everything he would ever be—his strength, his loyalty, his very breath—belonged to the girl standing in front of him in the rain.

It’s you, Embry thought, a wave of awe washing over him. It’s always been you.

"Embry, you're staring," you said softly, shifting slightly under the sheer weight of his gaze. You weren't afraid, but the intensity in his eyes was unlike anything you had ever experienced with Jacob. Embry was looking at you like you were the sun and he had spent his whole life freezing in the dark.

The sound of your voice seemed to snap him out of his initial trance, but the burning look in his eyes didn't dim for a second. A shaky, ragged breath finally rattled through his broad chest.

"I'm sorry," he breathed. He didn't drop his hands from your arms; instead, his grip shifted. His touch became impossibly gentle, as if he were suddenly terrified that the slightest fraction of his new, terrifying strength might break you. "I didn't mean to snap at you when you first walked up. I just... I've been through a lot the last two weeks. But seeing you here..."

He trailed off, his eyes dropping to your shivering frame. Without another word, he reached down and took the damp plaid flannel from your hands. He didn't care that it was wet from the rain; he shook it out and carefully draped it over your shoulders, wrapping it around you like a cocoon before bringing his own massive, warm hands over the outside of the fabric, rubbing your arms to generate heat.

"You shouldn't be out here in the cold," he murmured, his face just inches from yours. The heavy scent of him completely enveloped you, instantly chasing away the lingering memory of gasoline and rust from Jacob's garage. "Especially not over him. He’s an idiot, y/n. I've told you that before, but he really is the biggest fool on this entire reservation if he let you walk away like this."

You swallowed hard, fighting a sudden, fierce flush at his words. The raw sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. Suddenly, a long, mournful howl pierced through the heavy La Push fog, echoing from deep within the forest. Embry tensed instantly. The muscles in his shoulders locked, and his head snapped toward the tree line.

“I—uh—I need to go do something for a bit," he said, turning back to you, his eyes darting anxiously between your face and the woods. "But do you want to wait here? Inside? I’ll try to be back as soon as I can, and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

You blinked up at him, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I don't want to intrude…”

"You could never intrude," Embry said instantly. His voice was fierce, leaving absolutely no room for argument or doubt.

He didn't wait for you to hesitate any further. Reaching behind him, he grabbed the doorknob and gently guided you backward through the threshold, ushering you into the small, warm entryway of his house. The contrast between the freezing rain outside and the dry warmth of the kitchen was immediate, but it still didn't compare to the sheer, magnetic heat that had been radiating from Embry’s body.

He lingered for a fraction of a second, his large hands resting gently on your shoulders as he looked down at you, searching your face. Another howl pierced the air—closer this time, vibrating through the windowpanes. You felt a physical shudder ripple through Embry's frame, a sudden, tight tension bunching the hard muscles of his jaw. His eyes flashed with a frantic impatience, but the moment his gaze landed back on you, he forced his expression to soften.

"There's hot chocolate in the upper cabinet by the stove," he said quickly, his words rushing out as he stepped backward toward the door. "Make yourself some. Get warm. Use any blanket you find. Just... please don't leave. I'll be back, I promise."

Before you could even nod, Embry turned and slipped out the back door, closing it firmly behind him.

Moving instinctively toward the kitchen window, you watched him sprint toward the tree line. Your jaw dropped, and the breath caught completely in your throat. A cold spike of worry shot through you, especially after hearing that haunting, primal howl. You knew Embry was caught up in something big but you didn't know what. Yet, looking out into the empty, rain-swept yard, you realized something else: you trusted him completely.

You stood entirely alone in the quiet kitchen, the steady hum of the refrigerator the only sound breaking the silence. Wrapped in his oversized flannel, you could still smell him.

Slowly, your mind spinning, you moved over to the stove. Finding the hot chocolate where he said it would be, you set a mug to heat, your thoughts frantically replaying the last ten minutes. Embry’s sudden, massive growth spurt. The mysterious tattoo. The impossible, physics-defying speed. And most of all, the way he had looked at you right before the world seemed to stop. It felt like he had been looking into your very soul, anchoring himself to you in a way you couldn't even begin to understand.

By the time you finished your mug, sitting curled up on his living room couch with a thick wool blanket pulled up to your chin, nearly an hour had passed. The rain outside had picked up, drumming a heavy, rhythmic beat against the roof.

It was about another half hour later that you heard the back door click open.

You sat up, pulling the blanket tighter around your chest, your muscles tensing in anticipation. Heavy, muffled footsteps sounded in the kitchen, followed by the faint rustle of a wrapper, and then Embry stepped into the living room.

He had changed from his mud-splattered cut-offs to a pair of dark, low-slung sweatpants, but he was still shirtless, his copper skin glistening slightly with a fresh sheen of sweat and rain. His short hair was damp, sticking up in messy, dark tufts. He looked utterly exhausted, his broad shoulders slouching slightly under an invisible weight, but the exact second his eyes locked onto you sitting on his couch, a wave of pure, unadulterated relief washed over his face, erasing the strain from his features.

"You stayed," he breathed, a small, breathless smile tugging at the corner of his lips as if he had half-expected to find an empty room.

"I told you I would," you said softly, your heart doing a strange, nervous flip against your ribs at the sheer emotion in his voice.

Embry walked over, his massive movements heavy but entirely silent. He didn't sit on the opposite end of the couch to keep a polite distance; instead, he sank down right next to you, the cushions dipping significantly under his new weight. His furnace-like warmth immediately penetrated through your layers of blankets, chasing away the last remnants of the coastal chill. He looked at you, his eyes scanning your face with that same intense, magnetic focus from earlier, before he quietly pointed to the empty mug resting on the coffee table.

"Did you get warm enough?" he asked, his voice low, raspy, and incredibly intimate in the quiet room.

"Yeah. The hot chocolate helped," you murmured. You swallowed hard, gathering your courage as you looked at the sharp, mature line of his new jawline, then down at the striking black tribal tattoo on his shoulder. "Embry... what is going on? You're different. You're completely different than you were two weeks ago. And that howl... what's happening to you?"

Embry’s small smile faded, replaced by a solemn expression. He rubbed a large hand over his cropped hair, looking down at his own massive palms for a long moment before looking back up to lock his eyes onto yours.

"I know it looks crazy," he said quietly, his voice laced with a raw vulnerability that made you want to reach out and hold him. "I know I look crazy. I want to tell you everything. I swear I do. But..." He paused, his dark eyes searching yours, filled with a sudden, aching caution. "Before I explain the mess my life just became... I need to know about you. You said when Jacob calls, you're telling him it's over. Do you really mean that, y/n? Or are you just angry right now?"

“I meant it, Embry,” you stated, your voice firmer than you ever expected it to be, cutting cleanly through the low hum of the rain beating against the windows. “I deserve better than a guy who treats me like his last thought. I’m done waiting for Jacob to realize I'm in the room. I’m done competing with Bella for a single glance from my own boyfriend—well ex. If he wants Bella Swan, he can have her.”

You let out a ragged breath you felt like you’d been holding in your chest for the past month.

“I mean it. It’s over. I’m completely done with him.”

Embry swallowed hard. The muscle in his jaw twitched, not out of anger, but from an overwhelming, suffocating wave of relief. Hearing you say the words out loud, watching the absolute finality settle into your features, had him relaxing.

"You do," Embry whispered, his voice incredibly deep, rough around the edges. He shifted even closer, the sheer heat radiating off his bare chest completely enveloping you on the couch. "You deserve so much better than that, y/n. You deserve someone who looks at you and doesn't even see the rest of the world. Someone who treats you like you're the only thing that matters. Because you are."

The sheer gravity in his tone made your breath hitch. It didn’t feel like a sweet line from a boy who had carried a schoolyard crush; it felt like a vow. An absolute, unbreakable truth.

He reached out, his massive, burning hand hesitating for a fraction of a second in the air before he gently, reverently cupped the side of your face. His skin was incredibly hot against your cheek, but it was the most comforting, grounding thing you had ever felt. His thumb brushed just below your eye, tenderly tracing the delicate skin where your tears had dried, erasing the last remnants of Jacob's hurt.

"I've hated him for weeks," Embry confessed softly, his gaze burning into yours, completely stripped of any remaining defences. “I know he’s supposed to be my best friend, but every single time I saw you sitting in that dark corner, looking so small while he completely ignored you... it was killing me. I wanted to drag you out of there. I wanted to confess to you then."

"Why didn't you?" you asked quietly, instinctively leaning your face into his palm, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his warmth.

"Because you were his. And I was just... Embry," he said, a self-deprecating, bittersweet smile touching his lips. "But things are different now. I'm different."

He took a slow, deep breath, his hand sliding down from your cheek to rest gently on your shoulder, right over the edge of the blanket. He looked down at his own massive arm, at the striking black tattoo stamped into his skin, and then back at you.

"You asked what's going on with me," Embry said, his expression turning solemn, a sudden weight settling over his broad shoulders. "Why I changed." He leaned in a little closer, his gaze locked onto yours, terrified of how you would react but completely incapable of lying to you. "There are things about La Push—about our tribe—that people think are just legends. Old stories told around campfires to scare tourists. But they aren't stories, y/n. They're real. And two weeks ago... it happened to me."

He paused, looking down at your hands clutched tightly over the blanket.

“The legend of the protectors, of being able to turn into a wolf... it's all true.”

You stared at him, your mind racing as pieces of a bizarre, impossible puzzle suddenly began to fall into place. The massive growth spurt, the terrifying heat rolling off his body in waves, the haunting howl. If anyone else had told you this, you would have thought they were losing their mind. But looking into Embry’s fiercely honest, vulnerable eyes, you wanted to believe him.

"A wolf?" you whispered, your heart hammering frantically against your ribs. Under any other circumstances, you would have scoffed and told him he was losing his mind, but this was Embry. He didn't have a malicious bone in his body, and he would never lie to you like this. "That's why you disappeared? That's why you're so... hot?"

A small, genuine laugh broke through Embry’s serious demeanour, the familiar, boyish charm you loved instantly lighting up his sharp new features. “You think I’m hot?”

"Embry!" you huff, playfully smacking his arm to try and ignore your burning cheeks.

He chuckled softly, easily catching your wrist mid-air. His grip was entirely gentle as he guided your fingers up toward his right shoulder, pressing your palm directly against the smooth, dark ink of the tribal tattoo. Beneath your touch, his skin felt like a literal furnace.

He grinned, though a trace of that bittersweet emotion lingered in his eyes. “Yeah. Our body temperature stays around 108 degrees. And yeah, that's why I had to leave. When you first shift, you have absolutely no control. Your temper triggers it. Two weeks ago on the beach, when you told me you and Jacob were working things out... I lost my mind. I was so angry, so sick to my stomach at the thought of him taking you for granted again, that the sheer rage triggered the shift.”

You let out a shaky breath, looking from his intense gaze back down to the tattoo under your hand. “I want to believe you, Embry, but you know this sounds completely insane, right?”

“What if I prove it to you?” he asked, the playful grin fading into something earnest.

You raised a brow, your heart beating a little faster. “How?”

He held out his massive hand, palm up, waiting. “Do you trust me?”

Despite the sheer craziness of what he was saying, you didn't even have to think about it. You already knew the answer. Yes. Yes, you trusted him more than anyone else right now. You placed your smaller hand into his burning palm and let him gently pull you off the couch, leading you toward the back door.

The cool, damp air hit your face as you both stepped onto the porch. Embry suddenly stopped and cleared his throat, a rare, sheepish flush creeping up his neck.

“Uh... stay right here on the porch,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “When we shift... our clothes... they kind of tear to shreds. So I need to get out into the yard and...”

Your eyes widened slightly, and you quickly cleared your own throat, looking anywhere but his bare torso. “Oh. Okay... staying right here. Not moving.”

Embry offered a reassuring nod and jogged out into the yard, vanishing behind the thick trunk of a massive tree at the edge of the woods.

You stood on the porch, shivering slightly despite the oversized flannel still draped over your shoulders. The heavy scent of rain-soaked pine and wet earth hung thick in the air. The wind picked up, rustling the dense canopy above and sending a scattering of cold droplets onto your face. You wrapped the plaid fabric tighter around yourself, your eyes glued to the spot where Embry had disappeared.

Your heart was a frantic, drumming rhythm against your ribs. Part of your mind was screaming at you, insisting that this had to be a joke—a bizarre, elaborate coping mechanism for whatever severe illness had actually kept him isolated for two weeks. People didn't turn into wolves. It was a physical impossibility, a total violation of every law of nature you had ever been taught in biology class.

But then, your palm still tingled with the memory of his skin—that impossible, scorching heat. You thought of his sudden, massive height and the drastic physical changes that had occurred practically overnight. The sound of wolves howling and how he didn’t seem afraid to run into the woods.

Above all else, you trusted Embry. With your whole heart, you trusted him. He had never lied to you, never dismissed you, and never made you feel like an afterthought. If he asked you to stand in the rain and believe the impossible, you would do it.

The woods fell quiet again, save for the rhythmic patter of raindrops hitting the leaves. You pulled his soft flannel even tighter around your shoulders, breathing in his scent to keep yourself grounded.

A sudden, sharp rustle of ferns broke the silence from behind the tree.

You blinked, leaning forward over the porch railing. "Embry?" you called out, your voice a tiny bit breathless. "You okay?"

For a second, there was nothing. Then, a low, deep huff of air echoed from the shadows of the trees, sending a vibration right through the damp ground beneath your feet.

The sound didn't come from behind the tree where Embry had stepped, but from a dense thicket a few yards deeper into the shadows of the woods. You stiffened, your breath hitching in your throat as the leaves parted.

Your entire body froze as you stepped backward, your eyes widening to the size of saucers. Emerging from the thick undergrowth wasn't the boy you knew.

Your mind blanked, completely unable to process the sheer scale of what you were looking at. It wasn't just a wolf—at least, not any wolf that existed in textbooks. It was massive, the size of a horse, with a heavy, muscular build that looked entirely designed for power and speed. Its coat was a striking, sleek grey, dappled with dark spots along its back that mirrored the exact shade of the overcast sky above. The animal moved with a quiet grace, its enormous paws sinking into the soft mud without making a single sound.

Every human survival instinct screamed at you to run, but then the wolf lowered its massive head. Its ears flopped slightly back in a remarkably submissive, familiar gesture, and those deep, intelligent, velvety dark eyes locked onto yours. There was no mistaking them. The earnest, protective gaze that had comforted you on the beach, the look of absolute devotion that had made your stomach flip in the kitchen—it was all there, shining through the gaze of the predator before you.

"Embry..." you whispered, the name slipping from your lips in a breath of pure awe.

Hearing his name, the massive grey wolf let out a soft, high-pitched whine. He took a slow, deliberate step closer, keeping his head low to the ground to make himself look as small and unthreatening as a horse-sized wolf possibly could. The heat rolling off his thick fur hit you in a wave, instantly cutting through the chill of the rain.

The sheer absurdity of the situation faded, entirely swallowed by the realization that this was him. This was the boy who had shared hot chocolate with you. The boy who had held you on the beach while you cried.

Slowly, you stepped off the porch. Your trembling hand reached out from beneath the sleeve of his flannel. You held your palm open, waiting.

The giant grey wolf didn't hesitate. He closed the remaining distance, gently nudging his massive, wet muzzle directly into your hand. His fur was incredibly soft, but beneath it, his skin was scorching hot. A shaky, amazed laugh bubbled up in your throat as you closed your fingers, burying your hand into the thick, dense fur behind his ears.

Embry let out a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated right through the soles of your shoes—a canine version of a purr. He leaned heavily into your touch, his massive eyes closing in pure, unadulterated contentment as you stroked the top of his head.

"You really weren't lying," you breathed, a brilliant, genuine smile breaking across your face as you looked at him. "You're just a giant, overgrown puppy."

The wolf opened one dark eye, giving you a look that felt distinctly like an affectionate, Really? before stepping even closer. He rested his massive, heavy head right against your shoulder, his radiating warmth wrapping completely around you in the rain, finally claiming the place he had wanted to be for years.

The two of you stayed like that for a few quiet minutes, your fingers buried deep in his incredibly soft fur while he soaked in your touch, leaning his massive weight into your side. Finally, he pulled away with a soft huff, giving you one last lingering look before melting back into the shadows of the trees. A few moments later, the brush rustled again, and Embry walked out, back in his dark sweatpants.

“So, now you know,” he said, running a hand through his short hair, his posture suddenly turning incredibly nervous. You stepped closer to him, a soft smile breaking through your lingering shock. “Embry, that’s... insane, but amazing. You turn into a giant wolf. If the ladies around here knew, you'd become some kind of supernatural heartthrob.”

Embry let out a loud, breathless laugh, the tense line of his shoulders finally dropping as a deep flush crept up his copper neck. Even with his intimidating new height and the fierce tribal tattoo stamped onto his shoulder, he still looked exactly like the boy who used to blush whenever you caught him staring at you in the school hallway.

"Oh, yeah, definitely," Embry joked back, his deep voice rich with amusement as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Nothing screams 'heartthrob' quite like tearing through all your favourite clothes and smelling like a wet dog half the time. I'm sure the girls will be lining up around the block."

"Hey, don't underestimate the appeal of a guy who can act as a literal human space heater," you teased, stepping directly into his personal space. The rain was beginning to pick up again, but the sheer heat radiating off his bare chest was more than enough to keep the chill at bay.

Embry’s laughter slowly subsided, his expression softening into something incredibly warm. He looked down at you, his dark eyes tracing your features with that same intense, magnetic focus from before.

"I don't care about any other girls, y/n," he said softly. Then, he paused. His expression turned deeply intense, his pupils dilating as he stared down at you. That same supernatural stillness from the kitchen returned, trapping you entirely in his gaze. "There's... something else. Something I need to tell you."

You went quiet, sensing the sudden shift in the air.

"The elders call it imprinting," Embry continued, his voice dropping to a low, reverent whisper. "It doesn't happen to every wolf, but when it does... it changes everything instantly. It’s not like a normal crush, or even regular love. It’s like the universe suddenly pulls the ground out from under your feet, and it's not gravity holding you to the earth anymore. The only thing keeping you anchored, the only thing keeping you sane, is one specific person."

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sunk in. Your mind flashed back to the way he had stilled the exact moment you told him you were completely done with Jacob. The profound, soul-deep look that had passed over his face on the porch.

"Embry..." you breathed, a realization washing over you in a wave of sudden warmth that had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature of the air. "Is that... did you...?"

"The exact second I looked into your eyes after you told me you left him," Embry whispered, reaching out to take your hand. His grip tightened with a fierce, possessive tenderness. "The last strings tying me to everything else in the world just snapped. It's you, y/n. It’s always been you. I don't belong to the pack, or to this house, or even to the earth anymore. I belong to you."

He stepped even closer, completely shielding you from the falling rain with his broad frame.

"Whoever you need me to be—a friend, a protector, or something more—I am yours," he vowed, his eyes burning with an absolute devotion that made your heart soar. "I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel like an afterthought ever again."

The raw, unfiltered honesty of his confession brought fresh, sweet tears to your eyes, but for the first time in weeks, they weren't born from pain. The hollow ache that Jacob had left in your chest was suddenly filled to the brim with Embry’s heat, his devotion, and the absolute certainty that you were finally exactly where you belonged.

You didn't say a word. Instead, you leaned forward, closing the final inch of distance between you, and buried your face into the warm crook of his neck. You wrapped your arms tightly around his broad, muscular shoulders, holding onto him like he was the only solid thing left in the world.

Embry let out a low, shaky sound that was half-sigh, half-growl, and wrapped his massive arms fully around you. Lifting you effortlessly from your feet, he carried you back inside, sinking down onto the living room couch and pulling you completely onto his lap. He held you so securely against his chest it felt like he wanted to press you right into his skin, burying his face deep into your damp hair as he breathed you in, grounding himself in your scent.

Outside, the La Push rain continued to pour, washing away the ghosts of the past and the cold neglect of the garage. But inside, wrapped securely in Embry's arms, you had never been warmer.

Just like any other day.

. . .

It hit Paul like a freight train and caused sweat to form in ice cold drops on his otherwise warm skin. He had just returned from patrol with Embry and was spread over Emily's dining table whilst stuffing his face with the food she had cooked for them. Everything was fine and dandy. It was a pleasant day and the weather was nice and cool. Soon, he would be done with his daily obligations and then he would go home.

But then Sam came up behind Emily who was standing next to her mate's seat at the head of the table, one hand on the frame and other on her hip as she listened to Seth drone on and on about something that Paul's voice refused to register due to what unfolded next.

The pack leader's strong arms snaked around the waist of his delicate lover as he nuzzled his nose into her hair until the tip had found its way past the dark strands and against her tender cheek until it was caressing and tracing the scars he had left on her. 

All blood drained from Paul's skin and something in his head clicked. His surroundings faded to a dim buzz and the next few moments went by in a blur. 

And then he was standing in front of home.

“Paul!” You yelp in surprise at the sight of your nude lover. He usually dresses himself at Sam's house after patrols before coming home to you. 

Since you are human and your initial experience with the pack had both been overwhelming -thanks to your lover imprinting on you the first chance he was given- and traumatizing -as said lover who was much worse at controlling his primal urges back then had lost control at the sight of you because he was so overcome with raw, foreign emotion he did not know how to process-, you prefer to keep by yourself near the outskirts of the community in a house that Paul had moved in with you upon your request. 

The pack life is simply too loud and… public for you; a city girl used to her secluded places and treasured privacy.

You notice that Paul is panting -which is very unlike him due to his superhuman strength- and a redness outlines his eyes when his huge form approaches yours. “Are you— Paul!” You gasp and nearly flinch from both the shock and impulse when he lets his heavy body collapse on its knees in front of you. “What the hell happen—” you never know with your hyper emotional mate.

His long fingers push your sweater up and out of his way so he can stroke the soft skin of your stomach with the tip of his nose, his head nuzzling into your chest as his dark eyes flutter close and he inhales a deep whiff of your scent. It is the only thing that never fails to calm your hot blooded lover down. 

“What's wrong?” Your voice lowers to a concerned mumble as you peer down at him, your fingers cradle the dusky skin of his handsome face -as much of it as you can reach- and your nails rake through the male's jet black mass of short hair. “Honey?” He only behaves like this if something went wrong or when he is in need of comfort, which are both rare occurrences as he is the usual caretaker in your relationship. But you aren't a complete stranger to him acting like this. 

Ever the uncommunicative one, the male only sighs— no, whimpers against your skin as if he's wounded and softly feels your skin with gentle caresses of his fingers. Words require thought, patience and wisdom. Unfortunately, Paul's instinctual mind runs too fast for those things to catch up with it in time and rash actions get carried out before better sense can supply him from its store.

“Paul…” A shiver runs down your spine when his lips that had begun to softly peck your navel find their way up your stomach before they halt to ghost over the healed, plum coloured lesions that stretch across your tender skin in menacing shapes akin to claw marks. “What are you doing?” Though he never mentions or discusses it verbally due to the guilt he feels, sometimes Paul becomes hyper aware of the scars of his unmediated passion that mar your skin and tries to make up for them in his own wordless ways.

Except, this only ever happens when you're underdressed or the two of you are indulging in activities typical to couples and the sight of them reminds him of their cause. He has never stormed into the house stark naked and marched up to you like an unreadable oversized pup on the brink of tears like this. 

“I am sorry.” You nearly jump due to how unexpected the sound of his words are. Usually he just sulks in silence. “Baby, I am so sorry” Paul never speaks when he is in one of these moods. Especially when he is experiencing bouts of guilt for his actions during his first encounter with you. “Oh, God” his body grows heavy against yours as he practically pushes his face into the crevices like he wants to become one with them and fill them back up to their original state with parts of himself. 

“Paul— oof!” Your smaller body yields to his weight and the ground slips from underneath your feet. “D- Did the guys say something?” You fear the worst as Paul's protective hands catch you before your back can hit the wooden ground and you cannot help but whimper from how his lips lock with the scars in thick, desperate and hurried apologetic kisses. 

Paul and his pack mates play rough and sometimes they go too far with the teasing. So though he clings to the tough guy act in front of them, he dismantles into you once he is home if their words ever get too far. Yes, the tussling and fighting is not enough if it's serious. And just sometimes, when it gets too much for him to bottle it up, he shares some of it with you. But most often not, since he knows how you feel about the pack and he does not like to worry you.

“I am sorry it has taken me this long to say it out loud, baby… but I am so sorr—”

“Paul, hey, look at me” but he refuses to detach himself from your skin in his shame, his big hands safely holding your whole body up against his. “You don't have to—” you cannot help it, you hate to see him like this when you know how badly he regrets it. You hate for him to hurt.

“But I do” he nearly growls against your skin, his fingers tightening on your hips to brace himself against the war in his head. “There’s not a day that goes by where I don't regret it.”

“But you didn't do it on purpose, baby” you sigh when he refuses to let you see him. Your fingers try to pry his stubborn face upwards. “And you worked and improved for us, didn't you, hm?” Your eyes earnestly search for his. “Don't sell yourself so short.” One of your hands rubs his tense shoulders to try and ease their guilt-stricken stiffness. 

“All the same” ever the stubborn knucklehead. “I should have done this a long time ago. But I was selfish and I was afraid that if I verbally mentioned it…” He hesitates and the love you behold for him renders you helpless against a burning urge to reassure him. 

“My love—”

“I was scared you'd get reminded of it and…” He takes a deep breath and then gulps down the bile in his throat, blinking back tears. “L- Leave me…” Paul's voice is barely a whisper and your heart breaks at how vulnerable he sounds. “And I am such an asshole for it because it had more to do with my fear of you leaving me than you reliving your trauma…” 

“Paul…” You blink and try to focus, but his warm gropes and caresses falter your steam of thought. 

“I love you, I really do, so much” he peeks up at you just a little, dark eyes frightened for the first time since the day he scarred you. “Please forgive me. I don't ever want to lose you. I know what I did was irreversible but I swear I'll spend the rest of my life fixing it… if you'll let me.” You shake your head. 

Does he really think there's an off chance that you will leave? 

“Paul” when you cup the side of his face, he hides into your stomach again. “Hey,” you try to duck your face closer to his. make him look at you. “Look at me” your intended request comes out an order due to all the emotions you feel. “I forgave you a long time ago. That's the reason why I am still here” you finally manage to place your forehead against his, making your breaths mingle with his. “I love you more, so much more.” He opens his mouth to drone so you beat him to it. 

“Now shut up and kiss me.”

Paul is taken aback at your demand, his widening eyes prove it. But as surprising as it may be for him, this isn't something that was unresolved for you until today -unlike him- so you aren't as overwhelmed with angst. Because your mate has proven his love, devotion and worthiness of you through his actions over the course of your relationship. He has shown you that he loves you and that he is sorry for what he did. 

If anything, his innocently intimate and lovestruck worship of your body has fired it up instead of making it sentimental. 

And so you want him. 

Bad.

“But—”

“No buts. Kiss me.” You are breathless as you urge him to do so, your hands try to pull his face closer into yours although in vain because his bigger and stronger form remains unbudging. 

Paul's eyes search yours for assurance. “... Yes, ma'am” he whispers once finds it and the next thing you know, you're being pounced down onto the floor with his arms cased around you to protect you from the impact. 

And though you always feared that him getting physical in this manner would trigger you, you giggle against his mouth that he drags across your chest and up your throat to clamp onto yours. Your arms circle around his broad shoulders and instead of trying to repel him -like you suspected you would despite having grown to trust him now- you pull him closer as you whimper into the tender yet hungry kiss, feeling your legs climb the lower half of his body instinctively.

“Paul~” you needily blabber against his tongue that he uses to enjoy the sweetness of your mouth, his balmy lips enveloping everything your mouth has to offer in tight, big kisses. “Mm~” your chest aches from the strain the lack of oxygen puts on your lungs but your sparking nether regions only scoot closer to his that you feel riling up against yours, your hips grinding against his and limbs tightening around his rock hard body.

“Mine” he growls against your mouth when he has no choice but to pull apart at last, his coarse fingers groping you in greedy handfuls while peeling away any fabric that hurdles their path to your skin. “All mine” you moan at the feeling of his teeth grazing against the tender skin of your boobs that he sprays with kisses and licks. “God, mouse, I love you so much” the strength he puts into pushing everything you wear on your upper body away from it leaves you breathless. You love the thrill you feel when his touch feels like he is on the horizons of the dangers he is capable of. When he is so worked up and desperate that he cannot help but get rough because your sweet sweat and arousing body heat fires him up the way it does. You are addicted to the sight of him not giving in to his beastly impulses despite all that because he loves you so much. It is scary, yes. But it turns you on too.

“I love you too, Paul” though he likes to act cocky and all-knowing most of the time, you know he needs to hear it too. Underneath all that knucklehead play fighting and manhandling of his, he needs reassurance just as much as the next person and though he tries not to burden you as his different lifestyle is hard enough for you as it is, you don't have to be part wolf to feel him and hear his heart. 

“You're so perfect…” The way he peppers wet kisses along your cheekbone whilst relieving you of the rest of your clothing causes for your eyes to flutter close to cherish the tingling feeling that sparks your body alight. “Just—” when you try to reach for him to also make it enjoyable for him, he plants your hands above your head and softens your confused pout with a kiss. “Just let me take care of you today, yeah? Don't worry about anything.” 

“But— oh!” He reaches for the mating mark that sits on the right side junction of your neck where a she-wolf's mating glad would be. And though you lack the physical features to feel him through it, the meaning that it holds for Paul serves as a bridge for the biological gap. “Oh…” You turn your head sideways to rub your cheek against his shaved one, your hips roll into his hand that dips between your legs and you shudder against Paul's hot tongue that drags across the impressions of his teeth that crevice your skin. 

“Taste so fuckin' sweet, baby” there is a strain in Paul's voice because of how much strength it is taking him to hold himself back from impaling you full of his cock right there. “So perfect” the lower half of his body leaps down so he can rub his bare erection against the softness of your leg. 

You moan at the feeling. “Paul,” you whisper into his hair, the feeling of his sharp teeth causing for slick to sizzle up to your entrance from the inside. He growls out a quiet yes, baby against the mark, one hand constantly caressing the dents running along the width of your stomach. “Don't hold back” you go to touch his rock hard cock and he grunts in denial, seizing your wrist in his fingers faster than you can blink. 

His face comes up to dominate your vision. “No, mouse, tonight is all about you” another kiss squishes out any protest you can form and when his invasive tongue has your nostrils flared from the breathlessness, Paul drags it down your writhing body in the company of heavy pecks until his mouth is between your thighs and he is propping one up with a broad shoulder and the other with his hand that isn't occupied with caressing the evidence of his temper. 

“Paul—!” He knows how shy you get when he is between your legs like this. 

But it's not his fault you taste so fulfilling. 

“Sh, little mouse, you're perfect” he kisses any and all insecurities away with gentle kisses, the hand that cases one of your thighs stroking the tender inside with its thumb. “And you taste so good too” he takes his time worshiping your pelvis, deliberately leaving out your pussy to save the best for last. And though you pretend to disapprove and whine for him to come back up and just fuck you instead, his soft kisses that vibrate into your skin every time he moans at the feeling of your nether skin touching his slightly chapped lips, you find yourself helplessly crying out for more at the end. 

“Paul, please!” You feel his mouth twist into a smirk and your hands dart to finger his thick hair to withstand the sensation of his mouth hovering over your petals. 

“Please what, mouse?” You roll your eyes at the taunt in his voice. 

“Please touch me!” Your fingers impatiently tug at his short strands and he grins.

“Oh, mouse, but I am touching you” you whine and his shoulders vibrate under your knees from his devilish mirth. 

“Y- You know what I mean!” Though your cheeks are already aflush, you feel new heat seep underneath the layers of the reddened skin. 

“Mmm, but I thought you wanted me to—”

“Paul!” You desperately whine and he lets out a deep cackle.

“Fine, geez” he is so mean when he gets smug. You go to scowl down at him but he takes the mound between your legs in a deep handful and feels the slit between your petals in a vertical caress of his thumb before you do and you end up letting out a loud moan instead. “Needy much?” You bite your lip and wantonly roll your hips closer to his mouth. “Tsk, tsk. Impatient little mouse…” The tip of his digit presses between your nether lips that are dusted with pearly discharges of your arousal and a cherry red flush and your hips buck in anticipation. “You're lucky that you're so pretty and I like you so much…” Your spine trembles in your skin when you feel the coarse skin of his thumb against your ultrasensitive folds. “Because I typically don't appreciate things so small ordering me around…” Your back arches when he finally sticks the hot tip of his tongue between your nether lips.

“Oh…” You feel your toes curl. “More, please, Paul, more.”

He is so enchanted by your sweet scent and addictive taste that he is ignorant to anything that isn't your body. “But you, my dear mouse, you're something else…” His strong hands take your ass in them and he firmly kneads the plump skin, talking pretty much over you with a lust-drunken madness. You mewl out a moan at the feeling and Paul growls at the sound you make, pulling you closer to his mouth as he presses an open kiss to your pussy. “Fuck,” he groans and licks his lips that glisten from your slick, his own tip leaking at the taste of you. “I've never tasted anything like you before and I sure as hell am never gonna get tired of it.” 

“Paul!” you cry out when his tongue twirls against your entrance, his nose rubbing against your clit to caress it with the tip as he begins to eat you out.

His growl that vibrates your soaked folds to a buzzing life causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “Paul” you moan breathlessly, his name turning to a prayer as you tremble on the verge of releasing more slick.

“Gimme that sweet cum, baby, let me taste it” your lips part and you can't help but arch into his mouth with need. His hands are merciless, the one on your ass kneads it with rough gropes as the other massages the underside of your thighs in broad, determined strokes. You moan and writhe against him, your vision blurring at the hot waves that take over your body.

“I am gonna— oh, Paul!” He moans against you as you tremble and then release more even slick into his mouth. His tongue is in heaven as he greedily licks up all he can get. 

“Fucking hell, baby” the grainy tip of his tongue pokes and prods at your entrance, working the little hole open. “I can't wait to stuff this pretty little pussy full of my pups.” 

“Mmm, oh fuck, Paul, oh fuuuck” when he finally penetrates the tight barrier and his hot tongue invades your sensitive cavern, the burning knot between your hips gets tighter. Paul moans at the feeling of your delicate walls and though the vibrations of his doing so shakes you to your core, you cannot help but greedily wrap your legs around his head to both stay in place and withstand the pleasure.

“Oh, God, Paul, ’m so close!” Your voice is a breathless mewl and he growls at the vulnerable sound, his cock hurting from need. “Oh, fuck” you tremble so badly that you'd collapse into the ground if your knees weren't propped up by your mate's shoulders. “Oh fuck, oh fuck” Paul’s jaw flexes against your thighs when he begins to fuck you with his tongue, one hand fumbling for your cunt before he tickles the hood with his thumb. Your back arches and you clench your eyes shut, your chest heaving as you gasp out his name.

“Tsk, tsk, mouse” his hot breath fans your sensitive folds and you can't help but whimper at the feeling of his middle finger replacing his tongue. “You need to relax.” His hand that holds your ass pats your cheek in an endearing yet condescending way and your whole body tenses up at the touch even more. “I'm gonna take care of you, baby” you cannot help but rock your hips to his finger stretching your insides out against it. “You're mine and I'll never let you get hurt again, I promise” he croons before pressing a tender kiss to your clitorial nub. “You know that, right?” He kisses the slick covered inside of your thigh next to soothe your shaking body. “Tell me you know you're mine” his possessive words make the heat between your legs to go haywire.

“I am yours, Paul” you breathlessly promise him before letting out a moan when he tickles your folds with his tongue in a praising manner, satisfaction breaking out on his handsome face at your obedience.

“Good mouse” he begins to lap at your nub and your walls tense around his finger as a result, causing for your slick to slosh from the opening and down Paul's hand. “Shh, mouse, easy now” he cooes to get you to relax because of how tightly you are clenching yourself and it only gets worse when he adds a second finger. Your hips are so tight. You are on the edge. “You're gonna let me take care of this cute little pussy, aren't you?” You whimper at the feeling of being stuffed full and being licked at the same time.

“Y- Yes, Paul!” The air is heavy with the smell of slick and the sound of him slurping your juices up.

He adds a third finger and you nearly burst into tears from the pleasure. “Oh God, Paul, I am gonna cum!” Your entrance burns from the stretch and you moan from the bittersweet discomfort. “Please, lemme cum! Wanna cum so bad! Please, please!” Your submissive side comes out because of how overwhelmed you are and Paul can cum from the fragility of your voice right here.

“Hold it for me, mouse, good girl, c'mon” you sob at his cruel denial and he closes his lips around a mouthful of your folds, soundfully sucking at the clammy skin as he speeds his hand up to practically hammer your trembling pussy into an orgasm. Your toes curl and you throw your head back, fingers tugging at his hair as you tremble violently against him. Your back arches from how his free hand pinches and twists your nipples, softly landing occasional smacks to your boobs. “Good girl. I know you can take it” his hand then comes down to massage your ass cheek to make for a better stretch. “Relax, baby” you sob out his name and he smiles against your quivering core, his cheek gently caressing the inside of your thigh to get you to loosen up a little because you are clenching so hard.

“You're doing good, mouse. So good” his lips buzz against your clit. “Take it, baby, take it” your walls twitch against his coarse digits. “That's a good girl” he praises you while continuing to stuff your pussy with his fingers, the feeling of being filled up to the brim causing for you to shake and tremble violently. “That's my good girl” his tongue licks your clit as his fingers curve inside of you to search for your sensitive bundle of nerves that always makes you let out the sweetest of melodies.

“I'm gonna— I can't anymore, Paul!” Neon shapes cloud your vision when his fingers graze your sensitive spot and he growls at the feeling of your walls convulsing around his fingers.

“Yeah, baby. You can cum now” he finally relents and you cry out from the joy. “My little mouse, give me that sweet cum” his mouth never stops moving against you and you are so overcome with emotion that you are not sure if the tears that are streaming down your cheeks are due to pleasure or pain. “Gimme it, mouse. Gimme it” his tongue is like a beast that eats you up to satiate its starvation. You cry out his name from the pleasure.

“Paul! Paul, Paul— oh god!” The tongue is too much, though it gives you everything you could ask for at the moment, you need to escape. But when you try to pull away Paul catches your hips and holds you in place. 

“Now, where do you think you're going, little mouse?” There is a beastliness to his voice.

“N- No, Paul! No more—” you don't get to finish your plea because his mouth clamps down on your sensitive flesh to suckle on it in big, eager kisses again and your heart threatens to burst through your chest.

“Oh fuck” the knot between your legs tightens so hard you cannot maintain it anymore. Vertigo breaks through your hearing. “Oh— Paul!” The orgasm takes over your whole body, your mind blurs from the burst of sensation that courses through your blood and everything turns into a euphoric mess. “O- Oh God…” You tremble from the aftershock and Paul groans when he feels you squirt. He releases your hips and you fall back onto the floor, your body too weak to withstand its own weight. “O- Oh fuck…” You're breathless and your body feels like jelly. “Paul, oh Paul…” Your fingers desperately try to reach for him like you're no older than a baby and you notice that he is stroking his hurting cock because of the need to bury his knot in you, a pained expression etched across his face. “P- Paul, I am ready” though you can barely speak, your body shakes from the need to be filled up by him.

“Mouse… are you sure?” Though his voice strains from the painful need, he prioritizes your comfort over his and your heart wells up.

“Y- Yes” you try to sit up. “Fill me up, please” he needs no more encouragement after that. With a low growl, he jumps onto you and you feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance in a heated caress that makes you whine, your body even forgetting to yelp from how he pounces on you. 

“I'll never hurt you again, mouse” he whispers into your ear as he buries his nose into your hair, cock throbbing between your legs. You gasp when he enters you in a quick thrust that makes for all the air to bolt out of your lungs. “I promise.” You tremble in his hold and Paul groans at the feeling.

“I know” his mouth clamps down on the mating mark upon hearing your whisper and he slowly stretches your pussy to fit around his erection that even after all that fingering is still too big for your tiny cunt. The overstimulation causes for stars to form in your vision. His cock twitches inside you and he growls, the tip of his tongue tickling your nape in need.

“That's a good girl, baby” the hand that cups the side of your face tenderly strokes your cheek. “Relax for me” when your walls finally adjust to his log-like girth, Paul grins against the mating mark. “You're doing so good for me” the thrust of his hips causes for his cock to rub against your sensitive spot and your eyes roll to the back of your head with the feeling. “There's my good girl. You take my cock so well.” He releases his bite, hips pistoning up and down between your legs as he baby talks to you and strokes your hair to comfort you against the overstimulation that makes you whine.

“Paul!” You tremble as he fucks you in slow, long strokes and you cannot help but cry out his name in need.

“I'm here, baby. I got you” he murmurs into your hair and you moan at the baritone of his voice. “Take this cock, baby, you got it” he pants as his fat cock slides in and out of you. Then he suddenly grunts and readjusts you in his hold because the position is not comfortable enough for you and he can feel it. “God, you're so perfect.”

“I love you, Paul” you murmur into his ear, your hips lazily rolling against his as you hold him tight. 

“I love you more” the latter part of his sentence turns into a growl due to his struggle with the positioning and he collects your limp form in his. “And I can do this better” though he roughly pushes your bodies off the floor to head for the bedroom, his fingers subconsciously caress your back in gentle strokes to make up for how your bare skin rubbed into the floor during the ordeal. You whine from how his heavy sack puts a strain on your entrance where your bodies connect as he does so. He cooes praise and reassurance in your ear as comfort, peppering your mouth with gentle kisses.

.

The next morning when he leaves for patrol in a black tank top and some shorts, there is a shy grin on his face as he looks back at the door one last time to wave you goodbye. You blush and return the gesture, biting your lip like it's the morning after your first time with each other. 

“Geez, man, not the dreamy eyes!” A groan sounds from somewhere in the woods and you gasp before ducking behind the door. Chuckles and howls follow. 

The jerk brigade has arrived.

“Someone get these two a room!” You recognize Jake's voice and shake your head as you peek outside from behind your shield. “Oh, wait, they did that already!” You cannot help but snort when you see that Paul has begun to jog in the direction of the voices. “In light of how the whole town learnt all the ways in which Paul's name can be moaned last night” uh, oh. That's not going to be good. Your lover is very private and sensitive about you as it is and when someone tries to pry or joke about matters of this sort he does not appreciate it. Especially if it's his hormonal friends that he knows too well. “Paul, Paul, oh, Paul!” Your cheeks burn in embarrassment and Paul snarls before he flings his shirt off and jumps into the air, transforming into his beastly form midway and disappearing into the woods to attack the offendor.

You see the great trees shake from the tussle that you can practically visualize behind them and the encouraging howls of Paul's pack mates further confirms it. They love to get a rise out of your easily excitable boyfriend and he loves to put them in their place, being the strongest after Sam. Their crossing of each other's boundaries for the sake of fun used to concern you in the beginning but Paul himself assured you that that was just how they played and it was not coming from a bad place. 

So you wait for the ferocious crowd to move further away into the jungle that surrounds your house before you walk down to the dirt road to collect his clothing with a lighthearted shake of your head. A smile graces your lips as you do so and you cannot help but graze the now covered scars that your superhuman lover gave all his love to last night.  

Though it will be a while before he does, you cannot wait for him to come back home to you.

. . .