#twilight eclipse

When you said you had the sweetest, most trusting husband in the world, it wasn't just a lie like other women told. You were serious. Jasper Hale was seriously the softest, cuddliest, most gentlemanly killing machine on earth.

Being the most protected woman in Washington or even in the world was a wonderful feeling. You never had any doubts in your husband, despite the horrible things you'd been through with him and his family. He treasured you, respected you, catered to all of your needs, and really was a perfect Southern gentleman, just like he'd told you he was the day you met him.

You'd just been married after being together for years. In fact, the plan was to turn you as soon as a solid window of time allowed. But, of course, danger and turbulence with Bella had disturbed your plans. You were still human and still fragile. You would've thought he was going to hover over you at all times, like Edward did Bella. But it was different. It helped that he could feel when you were scared or uncomfortable, but Jazz was comfortable at a distance, trusting you in your ability to identify a dangerous situation and be smart about needing help. And when you did need him, he eliminated the threat swiftly and effectively, reminding you and everyone else just how deadly he was.

The current threat was the newborn army. Most definitely organized by Victoria, it held a certain amount of weight, a palpable danger. Jasper had been tense lately -- he could feel the unease of everyone around him. And you, his human mate, were directly in danger, at risk of bloodthirsty newborns every time you were alone.

He'd recently decided that now, while things were so risky, you'd be by his side under constant protection. Knowing the threat and knowing Jasper's story, his experience with newborns, you didn't complain. You just followed your Major's orders.

Today, you were in the clearing, listening to your husband teach the family and the Pack about how to defense and offense. You couldn't lie, Jazz was dangerously hot like this.

Jasper Hale was never louder than necessary. He didn’t bark orders or boast about his skills. He simply moved and spoke with such controlled confidence that the entire clearing naturally stilled around him.

He stood at the center of the field, broad shoulders squared, golden eyes scanning everyone like a quiet commander taking stock. The tension in his jaw only made him look more dangerous. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, exposing pale, scar-marked skin that shimmered faintly in the weak light -- reminders that he'd lived through so much violence and survived.

His hair was windswept, messy from combat demos, strands falling over his forehead. Somehow, that only made him hotter.

When he moved, he was all precision: a blur of muscle and reflex, striking with the speed of someone who didn’t hesitate. He never wasted energy. Every movement was elegant, efficient.

There was something deeply attractive about the way he balanced that lethal force with his gentlemanly calm. He wasn’t showing off, he was teaching. Guiding. Protecting.

“Newborns don’t think. They react. You use that. Wait for them to lunge -- then redirect their momentum.”

“Don’t aim for the head first. You want the arms, the legs. Disable them. Then finish it.”

“Stay low, keep your center of gravity under control. Don’t rely on brute force if you don’t have to.”

“Speed isn't enough. You gotta predict. Anticipate. That’s how you outlast ‘em.”

“Rosalie, you’re telegraphing. I could see that from a mile off.” (a soft smirk, drawing a glare from Rosalie)

“Don’t swing wide, Emmett. This isn’t a bar fight. That move would’ve gotten you killed a hundred years ago.”

He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t need to. That Southern drawl carried low and smooth, just loud enough to demand attention. You could tell he was holding back, like every part of him was wired to snap, but he was too controlled, too good, to let it show.

Watching Jasper fight was like watching a storm gather in the distance: quiet, beautiful, and inevitable.

Could be anyone. Wolf or vampire. They were quickly and strategically disarmed, usually with one move. It was like Jasper could tell exactly what they were going to do before they did it -- because likely, he could. He could feel whether they were cool headed, overconfident, agitated, restless. He was truly formidable. It was incredibly sexy to you.

Every once in a while, Jasper could feel your stares. He could feel your feelings of.. affection.. too. He tried to stay focused, his eyes locked onto whoever he was speaking to or whoever was swinging at him, but you could tell he knew. A crooked lift of his lip in a slight smirk would expose him.

Now, he stood facing off with Paul.

You'd never liked Paul. He was temperamental, cocky, arrogant and out of line any time you'd talked to him or been around him. But he was part of the pack and needed to be trained, so he was here.

Jasper could immediately feel your discomfort. His golden eyes met yours knowingly, reassuringly, in an attempt to soothe you. You felt yourself calm down considerably before you leaned back against the log, sighing.

He turned back. Paul was already snarling, fur prickling up in confidence and aggression. He hated vampires, whether they were fighting for the same cause or not. He wouldn't take it easy on Jasper, not that it mattered. Jasper never needed anyone to be careful, never needed to take it easily. He was almost sure that if Paul could, he'd go for the kill.

You swooned at Jazz. His face was still calm, staring down at the beast with anticipating eyes. Relaxed stance. He nodded, curving a hand to show Paul that it was time.

“Give it your best.” He said, one final statement, before Paul growled.

Paul lunged, massive wolf body coiled with muscle and teeth.

Jasper shifted just enough to the side, one pale hand shooting out to catch Paul by the ruff of his neck. He used the wolf’s own momentum to slam him to the ground, pinning him with one knee between his shoulders.

His voice was low, unbothered: “Far too predictable. A newborn would've snapped your neck,” he said. “You need to think it through before making an attempt. You have to be better than them -- more patient, more measured.”

Paul snarled and bucked under him, forcing Jasper to release him. The wolf twisted, hackles raised, and launched again with a furious roar.

Jasper didn’t flinch. He waited, eyes cool, then sidestepped at the last second, hand flashing out to catch Paul’s foreleg mid-swipe. With a sharp jerk and a twist of his hips, he threw the massive wolf onto his back, sending him sliding into the treeline.

Jasper leaned in slightly, voice calm but firm.

“Again. But try learning this time.”

With a furious roar, Paul gave it one more shot.

He jumped into the air, not taking Jasper's advice, not thinking, but heading for the southern man full force. With an audible and disappointed "tsk," Jazz landed another blow, a final push, intended for teaching. The blow made contact, once again sending Paul towards the trees. He barreled into them, knocking two over.

Jasper turned around to the group, using it as a teaching example.

“That's why you have to think. Control yourself,” he explained, gesturing towards the direction he'd flung Paul. “They're stronger than you and far more excited to fight. Even more excited to kill. You can't be sloppy.”

While Jasper was explaining, Paul got angrier and angrier.

He hated being beaten. Hated being embarrassed. Hated being talked back to. And hated vampires.

You sat across the clearing, watching him get up from the trees. His teeth dripped with spit, a permanent snarl etched onto his glaring face. His paws were heavy in the dirt.

And the direction he stalked? It wasn't towards Jasper.

It was towards you.

He was angry, embarrassed, and wanted to teach Jasper a lesson by terrifying you. Of course, by pack law, he wasn't allowed to touch you. But scaring a vampire's mate seemed to be equal punishment for the embarrassment.

Your eyes widened as you straightened off the log. Paul got closer and closer, drool dribbling off his teeth and lips, looking positively murderous. He was now within five feet of you, paws crossing the grass in enormous strides.

Jasper’s voice faltered for half a second as he felt the shift in you -- the jolt of fear, sharp and cold.

His golden eyes flicked immediately to you, then the aggressive, snarling wolf right in front of your face. Less than five feet now, pushing you back, making you cower against the wood log.

Jacob spoke from behind Jasper first.

“Paul! Stop!”

It was too late. The damage had already been done. Jasper was angry now.

Jasper didn’t explode.

He didn’t shout, didn’t bare his teeth or make a scene.

He simply went silent.

So silent that even the wind seemed to still in the trees.

And in that breathless, deathly quiet, he moved.

One blink and he was no longer in front of the pack or your family. He was between you and Paul, standing nose-to-snout with the enormous wolf, whose growling abruptly cut short at the sudden presence of something far, far more dangerous.

Jasper’s hand shot out, not to strike, but to press, flat and firm, against Paul’s fur covered shoulder, holding him back like he weighed nothing at all. His voice came low and dark, quieter than anyone had ever heard it.

“Foolish dog.”

Paul snarled, tried to shove forward -- instinct, fury, shame. He didn’t make it an inch.

With one hand still on Paul’s shoulder, Jasper’s other came up in a blur -- grabbing the wolf by the scruff of the neck and slamming him into the earth with a crack of force that shook the ground.

Gasps, footsteps, and whining from the pack echoed behind you.

Jasper didn't look at anyone else.

“I gave you every chance,” he said, voice thick with venom now, words curling with Southern fire. “I trained you. I warned you.”

He leaned into the wolf's snarling face again, letting him snap and growl at him, unfazed. His eyes were deadly, but his face was relatively relaxed.

“You won't make it on the field if this is how you present yourself,” he hummed, squeezing tighter onto Paul's body. “I cared at first. But now?”

Paul growled and twisted. Jasper slammed him down.

“I'm almost certain this world could use one less insolent mutt.”

The threat in his words wasn’t shouted. It was drawled, cold and certain, landing heavier than any yell could have. Paul let out a strangled, furious snarl, thrashing harder beneath Jasper’s unyielding grip. Dirt and grass tore up under his claws.

Jasper didn’t even blink. His golden eyes stayed locked on the wolf’s, steady and unflinching.

“You think you’re ready to fight newborns?” he asked, tone dipping almost to pity -- almost. His fingers tightened just enough to make Paul yelp. “You can’t even manage your temper.”

He waited for the next lunge. When Paul tried to twist again, Jasper slammed him down harder, making the ground quake.

“You’re sloppy. Predictable. And worst of all?” Jasper dropped his voice to a harsh whisper.

“You’re willing to threaten something of mine to save your own pride.”

Paul went still beneath him at that. Breathing hard. Growling, but with a tremor that wasn’t all rage.

Behind them, the clearing had gone silent. The pack frozen. Cullens unmoving. Even the wind felt like it held its breath.

Jasper’s lip curled faintly, not quite a smile.

“Consider this your only warning.”

He held Paul down one second longer, driving the point home. Then he stood smoothly, brushing the dirt from his hands like he hadn’t just manhandled a half-ton predator into submission.

“If you ever step foot near her again,” he drawled, Southern lilt dark as pitch, “I’ll put you down myself.”

He let that promise hang in the frozen air.

Then he turned, utterly calm, and walked back toward you without another glance at the wolf.

His cold hands met your skin immediately, gently nudging you into a standing position and smoothing your clothes out. He searched you silently for injuries -- you prayed he didn't find a single scratch. Even if Paul hadn't done it, he'd still pay the price for it.

Jasper’s touch was careful, almost reverent, as though he feared he might hurt you just by being too rough. His cold fingers brushed along your arms, checking for any sign of bruising. He smoothed your hair back from your face, golden eyes scanning you with laser focus.

“Hold still for me, darlin',” he murmured, voice lower now -- gentler, but still taut with restrained fury.

You swallowed hard, letting him fuss over you. His thumb grazed your jaw, tilting your face toward the light to check for any marks.

Nothing. Not a scratch.

He exhaled, slow and shaky despite the careful control on his face.

“Good,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

His hands lingered at your waist, gripping you just enough to anchor himself. He didn’t look back at the pack, didn’t even acknowledge the others. For Jasper, in that moment, there was no one else but you.

As he felt you relax against him, Jasper’s hold softened even more. His thumbs brushed soothing circles at your waist, the cold of his skin forgotten in the warm hush between you.

“That’s it,” he murmured, southern lilt a low rumble only for your ears. “Easy now, sugar. I’ve got you.”

He dipped his head just low enough to press his lips gently to your forehead, leaving his lips there for a few seconds and letting his eyes flutter shut. Grounding himself. The tension bled out of him by slow degrees, like smothered coals on a fire being put out.

One of his hands drifted up to cup your cheek, wiping the startled tears from under your eyes.

“No more cryin’, sweet angel. He’s never gonna come near you again.”

Once you were sufficiently comforted, Jasper returned to the training session, but decided that he wasn’t going to do any demonstrations. For the rest of the day, you’d be by his side where he could focus on you.

However, Jasper was a practical and respectful man. A warning always came before he broke loose.

Jasper didn’t raise his voice or even turn fully away from you. He just lifted his head enough to look past you, eyes finding the pack’s leader with that glint of cold command still in them.

“Sam,” he called evenly.

Sam’s ears flicked forward in wolf form, body tense, watching every move. No one had much to say, just stared. Emmett and Edward watched cautiously, awaiting a fight to break out.

Jasper’s jaw flexed once before he spoke, his tone unyielding.

“You’ll be down a pup if you ever let one of yours so much as growl at her again,” he asserted, tone cutting through the air like a knife. “She’s human. If you’ve forgotten your rules, if you’ve forgotten the treaty, I can be your reminder.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Didn’t need one.

“She started it.” You said, but gave Edward the pleasure of looking away and slouching deeper in your chair. “And why is she even staring at us? Do humans not know that eye contact means aggression? Or is this a regional problem? Maybe Arizona doesn’t have basic survival instincts.”

“(Y/N).” Edward hissed.

“I’m genuinely asking.”

Rosalie sighed like your existence personally offended her. “She’s curious, (Y/N). Humans get curious.”

“Curious about what? We sit here. We look pretty. We mind our undead business. It’s not like we’re juggling axes or sacrificing goats.”

“Alice suggested the axes once, remember?” Emmett said. “Carlisle said no.”

“And the goats?”

“Also no.”

“Tragic.”

Edward rubbed his temples. “Can everyone please behave? She’s not a threat.”

“Oh, I know she’s not a threat,” you said, stabbing at your boxed apple juice with unnecessary force. “She’s a walking liability. A hazard on legs. She radiates ‘about to trip and break something expensive’ energy.”

“She’s clumsy.” Jasper admitted diplomatically.

“Clumsy? Bro, clumsy is bumping into a chair. Bella looks like gravity filed a restraining order against her and it’s retaliating.”

Emmett choked on a laugh. Jasper pressed his lips together so hard they almost disappeared. Alice was openly beaming now, her chin propped in her hand like she was watching her favorite sitcom. Rosalie, for once, did not immediately scold you. She simply gave a slow, unimpressed blink that meant she agreed but refused to compliment you for it.

Bella's eyes drifted up again: straight to your table, straight to Edward, and then (unfortunately) straight to you. When your eyes met, you raised your brows, silently mouthing, "What are you looking at?" She jerked so hard that the cartoon of milk nearly spilled on the table.

Edward kicked your shin under the table. “Stop terrorizing her.”

You glared at him. “I’m not terrorizing her. I’m observing.”

“You’re glaring.”

“That was a neutral expression.”

“For a vampire about to commit a felony.” Rosalie supplied. You rolled your eyes and reached for your fork. Edward snatched it out of your hand instantly.

“What are you—?"

He hissed under his breath, “Your face looks like you’re about to throw it at her.”

You blinked, and paused to considered it. “Okay, fair. But give it back.”

“No. You don't need to frighten her anymore than you have.”

“I wasn't scaring her,” you said, though no one at the table believed you. “If anything, I’m preparing her. This is enrichment. Like zoo training.”

TIME SKIP

When Edward came home that afternoon, his expression was the exact mix of disgust and existential dread you usually associate with Rosalie encountering a crowded mall. He barely got through the door before you spoke. “What crawled up your ass and died?”

Edward dropped his bag with unnecessary dramatics. “I had Biology with her.”

You recoiled. “Oh my god. And, let me guess, she sat next to you?”

“Yes.”

You slapped a hand over your chest. “A tragedy. A violation. You poor thing.” Edward glared. You shrugged. "No actually, I get it. She smells like dessert to you, right? And instead of avoiding you like a human with basic survival instincts she's like, ‘Oh gee, let me sit beside the immortal bloodsucker and try to befriend him.’ That’s a choice. A stupid one.”

Edward groaned. “It took everything in me not to jump across the table and suck her dry."

You raised a brow. “So this is the part where you decide to stay away from her, right?” Edward didn’t answer. You slapped a hand over your eyes. “Oh no. You’re already obsessed, aren’t you?”

And obsessed he was.

Painfully. Horrifyingly. Criminally.

Two days later, he unknowingly let it slip—and by slip, you mean he confessed it like a man who had forgotten what shame was—that he’d been watching Bella sleep from inside her room like a total creep. It happened during another dramatic Edward Entry, where he appeared at the top of the stairs with that look. That haunted, dreamy, lovesick, vaguely murderous look.

“I’ve discovered something.” he murmured, descending the stairs like a gothic chandelier falling in slow motion.

“A personality?” He ignored you. That was mistake number one.

“She talks in her sleep.” Edward said, voice low and weirdly soft.

You blinked once. Twice. “…Excuse me?”

Edward paused, eyebrows lifting in mild confusion. “Bella. She—”

“—talks in her sleep,” you finished for him. “Yes. Yes, you just said that. My question is: how you know this?”

Emmett’s eyebrows shot up. Jasper straightened in his seat like someone had plugged him into an electrical socket. Rosalie turned her head slowly—very slowly—to glare at Edward, because although she disliked Bella with a passion, she wasn’t about to let her brother be a full blown psycho. Her eyes narrowed into lethal slits.

“Edward. Tell me you’re joking.”

He stiffened. “I—”

“No,” Rosalie snapped, cutting him off like a guillotine. “Don’t. Whatever you say next is going to make me want to hit you, and Carlisle will get mad when I break your jaw.”

Emmett raised a hand helpfully. “I can hold him down.”

Rosalie didn’t even look at him. “He wouldn’t fight back. He’d probably cry about it.”

Jasper’s voice was cautious, like he was approaching a wild animal. “Edward, please tell us how you discovered this?”

Hesitation.

A bad sign.

A very bad sign.

You leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Edward, where were you standing when she was sleep talking?”

“I wasn’t standing.” he said defensively.

Rosalie looked a heartbeat away from physical violence. “Okay, so you were sitting. Where? On a tree branch? Outside her window like a feral owl?"

He winced. “The rocking chair in her room.”

The room exploded.

Rosalie made a strangled, murderous noise. Jasper froze as if preparing emotionally for Edward’s funeral. Emmett dropped the remote and whispered, “Oh my god. You ARE a creep.” And you stood up so fast your chair skidded backward.

“EDWARD ANTHONY MASEN CULLEN!”

“Don’t use my full name—”

“You sat,” you repeated, stabbing each word into the air like a knife. “In the dark. In the corner. In a rocking chair. Watching a human girl as she slept like some sort of pale, sparkly sleep paralysis demon?"

Edward winced. “When you say it like that—”

“How ELSE am I supposed to say it?” you barked. “You violated every privacy law ever created! Even the unwritten ones! Humans don’t even LIKE when their pets stare at them while they sleep.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Oh my god,” Rosalie cut in, looking genuinely appalled. “I didn't think you could become even more of a loser than you were."

It was at that moment that Esme entered the room cheerfully, but then froze, noticing the tension. “What’s going on?”

You pointed at Edward with the dramatic fury of a soap opera character. “Oh, it's nothing. Just that your perfect golden boy here has been breaking into Bella Swan’s bedroom and WATCHING HER SLEEP!”

Esme blinked. Then blinked again. “Oh dear...”

Carlisle followed behind her, eyebrows rising. “Edward?”

Edward threw his hands up. “I was making sure she was safe!”

You gaped at him. “SAFE FROM WHAT, EDWARD?! NIGHTMARES? PILLOWS? HER OWN BREATHING?!”

Emmett nodded vigorously. “Bro, imagine waking up and seeing YOU in the corner. I’d yeet myself out the window.”

Jasper nodded. “So would I.”

Edward glared at all of you. “None of you understand—”

“OH TRUST ME,” you barked, “we understand PERFECTLY. You have lost your goddamn mind.”

Rosalie stepped closer, voice low. “If Bella finds out about this, she is going to pass out so fast she’ll crack her skull on her nightstand. And then YOU’LL have to explain to Charlie Swan why his daughter died of fright.”

Emmett held up a finger. “Which would be hilarious—”

Rosalie snapped, “Emmett!”

“—but bad.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Edward, listen carefully. Humans don’t LIKE being watched while unconscious. They tend to—oh, I don’t know—call the police!”

“That’s ridiculous.” Edward scoffed.

“Oh?” you asked sweetly. “And what would YOU do if a stranger sat in YOUR room at night?”

“I would know.” He said smugly.

“Yes,” you said dryly, “because you’re a vampire. Bella is a CHIHUAHUA with the durability of a breadstick.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes. “You need to stop. Now.”

Edward’s jaw clenched. “I can’t. She’s important.”

You threw your arms up. “You met her TWICE!”

“Three times.” Edward corrected.

“Oh! Well EXCUSE ME,” you said dramatically. “Three encounters. That changes everything. Let’s book the wedding.”

Emmett raised a hand. “Dibs on best man.”

Rosalie hissed. “We are not planning a wedding for the girl he’s currently stalking.”

“I'm not—"

“STALKING!”

ANOTHER TIME SKIP

Edward really lived up to his creep status. Not even a week after stalking the poor girl, he took her into the woods and confirmed that yes, he sparkled like a disco ball in direct sunlight, yes, he was a vampire, and yes, the rest of his family were too. You nearly sprinted into the woods to find the largest tree trunk available, solely to beat him with it.

Rule #1 (if there was a handbook): DO NOT REVEAL YOUR STATUS TO HUMANS.

And what did Edward do? He broke it. Crushed it. Set it on fire. Ran it over with his stupid Volvo. And then? Then he had the audacity—the pure nerve—to invite the girl to your home. Your safe place. The one place you guys didn't need to hide. You met them in the kitchen alongside the rest of your family who were busy making Italiano.

Edward practically glowed with smugness. “So, this is Bella.”

You stared at her.

She stared back.

You blinked slowly, once, twice, like a warning system rebooting. “…Why is she here?”

Esme gasped softly. “(Y/N)!”

Bella flushed, shrinking in on herself. “I—I didn’t mean to intrude—”

“You’re not intruding.” Edward reassured her, giving Bella a soft smile like he hadn't done anything wrong.

You pointed a stiff, accusing finger at him. “Oh, she absolutely is intruding. What happened to subtlety? What happened to discretion? What happened to keeping our kind a secret?”

Bella blinked nervously. “I apologize if me knowing brought you guys any problems—”

You barked a laugh.

Not a cute laugh.

A deranged older sibling losing their patience laugh.

“Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t bring us any problems. He did.”

Edward’s jaw tightened. “(Y/N)—”

“No, no, do not ‘(Y/N)’ me,” you snapped, stepping forward. “Do you have any idea how many decades—DECADES—we’ve spent keeping a low profile? Do you know how many times I’ve had to dodge nosy humans, animal control, conspiracy theorists, and that one lady who swore Emmett was Bigfoot?”

Emmett yelled from behind the kitchen counter, “SHE TOOK A PICTURE OF ME EATING A GRANOLA BAR—WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!”

You waved a dismissive hand. “Case in point.”

Bella’s eyes widened. “I—I didn’t know—”

“Of course you didn’t know,” you said. “And you shouldn’t have known anything. About any of us. Because Edward was supposed to handle this like a responsible adult. Instead, he took you to the forest like a dramatically depressed anime character and told you everything.”

Edward hissed, “It wasn’t like that—”

“Oh?” you said. “Did you or did you not ‘say it, out loud’ her into a supernatural TED Talk?” Edward opened his mouth. You didn’t let him finish. “Exactly, you dramatically confessed eternal damnation in a mossy forest like the world’s biggest theatre kid.”

At that moment, you heard the sound of a glass breaking and Jasper's slight cursing. You didn't need to be in the same room to know he looked like a man trying to balance a thousand knifes on his head while walking a tightrope over a pit of Bella-scented lava.

“Okay,” you muttered. “Time for intervention number twelve of the week.” You turned your back on the couple and stepped into the main living room where Jasper stood at the top of the staircase.

"Come on, bro." You said, grabbing him by the wrist and nudging him towards the back hallway where the exit was. "Let’s go take a long walk where no gremlins are messing with you."

Jasper gritted his teeth. “Thank you.”

Edward called out, annoyed, “We’re in the middle of a discussion—!”

That's why he hates to admit that he fell for you...almost too easy.

When Emily said she was bringing a friend over for dinner, he smugly asked if you were "hot". She rolled her eyes and made him swear that he wouldn't try anything with you, knowing how he was.

"She's the sweetest person in the world, and we're becoming best friends. Do NOT ruin that,"

Little did she know that she was bringing home his soulmate.

When Emily introduced you to the pack and Paul imprinted, she sagged her shoulders in defeat. Sam couldn't stop laughing, seeing Emily turn to pout at him with her arms crossed.

"I won't let him hurt her," Sam assured as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, kissing her temple.

"Better not."

-

It had started off as lingering gazes from afar, to small conversations in passing. Paul was so scared of your rejection, and you didn't think he could ever be interested in someone like you. After all, you had heard rumors about the hot head, and none of them involved relationships.

Both of you were so busy convincing yourselves that you meant nothing to each other, that you had no idea just how truly deep the other was.

When he had finally gotten the courage to ask you on a date, it was your turn to be nervous.

"He's never even gone on a date, Y/N," Kim had told you that afternoon while helping you get ready. "That means you're pretty damn special."

Paul had been nothing less than a gentleman. He had been sweet, attentive, and ended the night with a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Can I see you again?" He had asked outside your door, just above a whisper.

Your smiled widened softly as you nodded, your eyes locked in his.

Pauls world had flipped upside down. His usual charm and charisma crumbled, replaced with anxious nerves. It wasn't just the imprint bond that made him fall head first. It was that, to him, you were perfect.

Paul knew right away that you were too good for him. But instead of accepting that and moving on, something in him changed.

He had wanted to be better, for you.

When you weren't around, the girls joked that you were the sunshine to his raging storm. They'd never seen him like this before. He was just calmer around you, more steady. Emily and Kim gushed over this completely different version of him.

-

One date led to the next, and before either of you realized, you were seeing each other.

All the time.

You would spend a majority of your day at Emily's house, who was more than thrilled to have someone around to chat and help with the cooking.

That is, when Paul was on patrol and not in your vicinity.

The pack quickly realized that Paul showed affection by being very handsy.

There was never a moment when you two were in the same room that he didn't have some sort of hold on you.

Whether it be a hand squeezing your knee under the table, his arms wrapped around your torso, or pecking soft kisses on your neck when he thought no one was looking.

You vividly remember the day that Embry walked into the bathroom and caught you both in a heated make out session, his one hand engulfed in your hair as the other held you up against the sink.

"Get the fuck out!" Paul seethed.

"THE DOOR WAS UNLOCKED!?" Embry looked at him incredulously as he slammed the door and stormed off.

Paul looked at you, watching your face turn bright red as you tucked into the crook of his neck, your laugh ringing through his ears like a sirens song.

Paul didn't expect this, he hadn't wanted this.

But he'd be lying to himself if he didn't know one thing.

He loved you.

~

At least, that's what he wishes he had told you. Before his entire world came crashing down around him.

Before he sit here, in this cold, unforgiving metal chair. Staring at you, the holder of his heart, bruised, battered and helpless on that hospital bed.

It was his fault. Sam, Jared, Embry, anyone could try to tell him it wasn't. That this could have happened to any of them. But he knew the truth.

He let his hot headed, egotistical, selfishness get in the way. That anger that he swallowed and tried to hide. It had bubbled to the surface like a vice, and now here you lay because of it.

If he knew he would ultimately be here in the end, he would have handled things much differently.

~

It all started when another pack came into town. They were supposed to be just passing through. When it was found out that the alpha and Billy had been good friends in the past, they were invited to stay for a few weeks.

"We must share this land with our kind," Billy had said. "Treat them as family."

All of that was perfectly fine. This wasn't the first pack that had come and visit. They were respectful, cordial, and even friendly.

Except for one of them.

They had all been invited to the weekly bonfire. It was a crisp autumn night, just chilly enough for you to be comfortably snugged against Paul as the fire roared.

The men sat around the pit, buzzing in conversation, while the imprints laughed and took turns sharing stories. It was getting to be a really good night.

The pack had one lone wolf. He was a bit younger, albeit just as big as the rest of the men. He didn't speak to anyone, rather than give off dirty looks and sneers from the sidelines.

"I'm sorry about him, he's new and quite troubled," their alpha had said.

No one really paid him much attention after that.

Until he made the biggest mistake any of them could.

He sauntered over to you.

Paul had been by your side the entire time. One hand wrapped around your waist, the other with a drink in his hand. He would softly squeeze your side every now and then, nuzzling his nose in your neck.

"You look so beautiful tonight," he'd whisper in your ear, making you smile.

Paul looked in your eyes for a brief moment, and he knew. He would tell you tonight. Later on, when the crowd faded and it was just the two of you, he would say those three words that he had been terrified to say all of his life. His heart preemptively beat out of his chest, and he tried to relax.

When his drink was empty he had made a small acknowledgment that he was going to get a new one, leaving you for just a moment.

That's when it happened.

The man had come up to you from behind, like he had been waiting for his opportunity. He slung his arm around your shoulder, tightly gripping you. You gasped, stunned from his aggression around the movement, smelling his breath that reeked of alcohol.

"Damn, are you a sexy little thing. You could do so much better than him sweetheart, why don't you come-"

He didn't even have time to finish his sentence before he was forcefully launched onto the ground, Paul towering over him in front of you. He was trembling, growling intensely at the man beneath him. The noise deafened as everyone stood up, staring in shock at what they just witnessed.

One of the imprints pulled you back, just in time as both the man and Paul phased, teeth snapping angrily as they clawed at one another.

"PAUL!" You shrieked, tears welling in your eyes. Emily appeared out of nowhere, grabbing you by the arm and forcing you back into the house where you were out of sight.

Several of the men from both pack's phased, desperately attempting to rip the two off of each other.

Once the door to the house was closed you sobbed into Emily's arms, completely terrified and shaking as she rubbed your back,

"It's okay, they'll take care of him. I promise,"

Emily was able to calm you down slowly, understanding the intensity of the situation. You had seen Paul phase, but never out of anger.

Even though you were pretty certain Paul could handle himself, you couldn't shake that disgusting feeling you got from that guy. It made your stomach nauseous.

Around half an hour later, you sat at the table with Emily when the boys walked into the house. Paul immediately rushed over to you, engulfing you in his arms. Feeling his touch made your emotions heighten all over again, tears flooding his shoulders.

"Shh, baby I'm right here. It's okay, I'm not going nowhere," he said into your hair as you just hugged him tighter.

Emily looked to Sam with wild eyes.

"They took him back to their camp. He won't be back here again." He said, as if reading her mind.

But the look he shared with Paul after, was less than convincing.

----- A few days later ------

"I'm going to get this new book that just came out at that bookstore in town, and then I'll be right over," you had said over the phone to Paul.

"Whatever you want babe, we're about to watch some movie," he smiled.

"Tell Jared to lay off all the popcorn and save some for me?" you giggled.

"Anything for you."

That was nearly two hours ago. Paul sat in the living room with the boys, the movie playing that Embry had been dying for them to watch. But he was barely paying attention, drumming his fingers along the armchair. Why weren't you here yet? Paul was getting concerned, but didn't want to bother you or seem like the controlling type. After all, you were one to easily lose track of time in a bookstore.

Paul hadn't told you what he wanted to say that night, given everything that happened.

He wasn't worried anymore though. If anything, he was more confident in his feelings. He figured that when the time was right, he'd tell you.

His phone rang, your name plastered on the screen as Paul sighed of relief.

"Hey, are you almost here?"

"Paul." You whispered, so low he almost didn't hear it. He didn't know if it was the bond or general instincts, but he immediately sensed your fear.

He stood up abruptly from the couch, eyebrows furrowed. The sudden movement attracted the attention of the pack, the boys pausing the movie and listening in with their hearing.

"What's wrong baby? Tell me."

"T-T-that guy. The one from the bonfire," you breathed.

Paul froze, his stomach dropped, his heart rapidly beating in his chest.

"He's at the bookstore. He's outside in his car and I think he saw me. I-" your voice cracked as tears welled in your eyes.

"Y/N, stay right there. Do you hear me? Do not go outside. I'm on my way." after you agreed, Paul hung up the phone.

One look behind him and everyone was already up, ready to follow him.

"Let's go," Sam commanded the others, as they tore off their shirts and raced outside.

Emily looked to Kim with fearful eyes, them being the only ones left.

"I don't have a good feeling about this,"

---

Paul could count on his hand the number of times he was scared.

Right now, he was terrified.

Within ten minutes, they had arrived to town and at the bookstore. Your car was still parked, but you were no where to be found.

Sam had to hold Paul back from practically jumping over the counter when the cashier told them you had left a few minutes earlier with a guy.

Heading back outside by the woods beyond the store, Sam ordered the pack to shift and separate, knowing they'd have better senses when scouring the area outside.

Paul and Sam were together, and Paul was about to come unglued. Every minute that passed felt like hours. Thoughts of you flooded his mind, regrets about every little thing he did that led to this. He should have never left you alone. If anything happened to you...

No. He had to focus.

They were deep in the forest when the sound of rustled branches startled them.

What emerged made Paul's heart drop.

It was the man from the other pack, also in his wolf form.

But you weren't with him.

"Where the FUCK is she!?" Paul demanded through his mind, his desperation turning into pure rage.

The wolf snarled, "You always get what you want, don't you? You don't deserve her...you can't even protect her."

Paul bared his teeth, "And what the fuck makes you think you do?! Huh?? I have every right by tribal law to tear you apart you if you so much as TOUCHED her."

The wolf huffed, "You think I give a shit about that? About any of this? I didn't want to be like this..."

"Then why take her?" Sam questioned, trying to remain calm.

His mouth curled up as he sneered, "Because at least I finally have the strength, to take whatever it is that I want."

Before Paul could charge at the wolf, he winced as the mind link was overwhelmed with screaming.

"I FOUND HER! I FOUND HER!" Embry croaked. A flash of the image of you overpowered his mind.

You were tied to a tree by rope and duct tape. You were bruised and bloodied, scratches all over your body. Tears streamed down your face as you weakly reached your arms out to Embry.

The other wolf, seeing this, laughed maniacally. "You gotta admit though...she's a fighter."

Paul's vision went red as he lunged.

---------

Paul sat in the chair across from your hospital bed. He leaned over and rubbed his temples, as if by doing this, he could erase the memories of breaking that wolf down.

It wasn't until the man surrendered and phased back, crying and helpless, did Sam and the other alpha who found them, manage to rip Paul off just before the job was done.

Embry had rushed you to the local hospital where he said you were attacked by an animal. Luckily, Dr. Cullen took over before any follow up questions were asked.

"She'll be alright Paul, you saved her life." Sam put his hand on Paul's shoulder next to him.

Paul huffed, "She wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for me. If I would have just told him to fuck off, not gotten so angry at the bonfire..."

"Stop. Any of us would have done the same. I can promise you that." Sam interrupted, shaking his head.

They sat there in silence for awhile.

The monitors beeping started to pick up, and you squinted your eyes tight before slowly opening them.

"Paul?" You wheezed, your throat on fire.

Paul practically leaped out of his seat to come to your side.

"Hey, hey, I'm here." He said as he took your hand in his, running his fingers softly through your hair with the other.

Sam took this as his que to go back to the waiting room, giving Paul a reassuring nod as he left.

"You saved me," you said softly, smiling as you squeezed his hand.

Paul nearly collapsed. After all of this, you didn't hate him. You weren't too scared to be with him, or think he was just a monster.

"I will do anything for you. Forever, you know that?" He whispered.

He cleared his throat, "It's because I love you."

You blinked, almost as if you were processing what you just heard. You supposed you both would say those words eventually, but to actually hear it, was something else.

"I love you too," you said as your eyes welled with tears.

That's when he leaned down and kissed you...really kissed you. Like he was afraid he would wake up and this would all be a dream.

A "whoops" interrupted you, as you both pulled away, slightly breathless. You couldn't help but laugh as you saw Embry, cheeks flushed, awkwardly wave as he was the first of the pack behind him to step in.

"I can't catch a break with these two," he sighed to Jared, who snickered.

The girls came in with your favorite candy and snacks, giving you hugs and telling you how worried they'd been. The boys chatted with one another, and Paul never left your side.

When your eyes first graced his eyes on that beautiful day, his lungs expanded and he breathed. The air was crisp from the rain that kissed the earth the night before, the birds were singing their song, sometimes when he thinks back on that day: he likes to think that those birds were singing a song that foretold an enchanting encounter and present him something that would change his life forever. The rare sun was bright and shining and the atmosphere felt free, like nothing could hold him down anymore; not his problems with the cullens, not his problems with Sam and the pack, not his avoidance towards his father or Bella - nothing.

It confused him at first, why did today feel so different? Why did it feel so promising that he woke up with an exciting anticipation that drove him mad? Jacob was on edge: not in a way that had him clenching his jaw and curling his hand into a fist so hard that the skin around his knuckles became almost translucent - no, the edge he felt was in a sense of something good. Something he is not used to.

Jacob remembers how his eyes had widened and heart raced in a way it had never done before, his pulse picking up as a plethora of emotions washed over him. He remembers how he swayed at first, like his balance was lost to him, before he straightened his back and his muscles rippled beneath his black shirt as a new found energy surged through his veins - awakening him, breathing life into him. His hands had tingled ferociously, nerves vibrating under his skin to let him know he was alive. He hadn’t felt like that in.. ever, really, now that he thinks of it. He had felt a fog, one he didn’t know was there, lifted from him and he felt a soft clarity dawn upon him quietly - like it was natural, like it was meant to be there all along. Jacob felt.. normal. Happy. Like things had just.. quietly clicked into place and suddenly things didn’t seem as heavy anymore.

Jacob could breathe and he was gasping for the air he didn’t know he was desperate for.

It wasn’t fireworks and explosions like some of the other members had described it to be for them. It was a quiet, calm but warm feeling that breathed life, he didn’t know he was lacking, back into him. Jacob could feel himself think and not immediately doubt the thought. He felt a new found strength humming it’s melody in his veins. He didn’t feel the anger that was always there, in the back of his mind, anymore, it made him more of a ticking time bomb then Paul on some days, it just.. left. Like it was waiting for a door or a window to be opened.

When Jacob’s lips parted ever-so-softly to utter something, anything, to you, you smiled so sweetly at him and that was when he finally felt breathless. Your smile held everything he had been asking for. Your eyes twinkled as your smile reached them, and your laugh, oh, that laugh he loves so very much, was a holy sound. Jacob wasn’t a religious man — not until he met you; you are his religion. His saviour. The one he knows is always there. The one he can pray to and know it will be answered. He felt so warm, so comfortable, and already so at home. And so very fiercely protective. Dangerously so.

Your eyes switch from being closed, to being locked with his, to throwing your head back and gazing up into the sky, before looking back down at him; honouring him with the sight of you. The muscles in your thighs and lower abdomen burn as you lift your body up and down with controlled but frantic movements, your arms and shoulders ache, and the tips of your fingers pulse from your nails occasionally digging into Jacob’s chest; which leaves tiny crescent moons all over his chest. The burn in your lungs is enough to make you breathless, but that doesn’t stop the plethora of whines, moans, squeals and screams from falling from your lips as the whispering promise of another orgasm beckons you to carry on.

Jacob’s hips moving up slightly to meet your frantic and harsh ones creates a pure erotic sound that has you biting your lip.

“Jake..” you whisper softly, your tone changing from the whining you were doing a moment ago, and if it weren’t for his sharp hearing, Jacob wouldn’t be able to hear you over the waves that bend and fold in on themselves just meters away from where you both currently are.

Jacob fills you perfectly — just he always has, and always will. You’ve always felt so incredibly alive when he was near. Your pussy walls hug his cock that fits snug deep within you, and his tip drags along your slick gummy walls, close to your favourite spot, in a mouth-watering manner that has small whimpers dancing on the tip of your tongue. Jacob’s large and rough hands have your hips in an iron-like grip, the tips of his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your skin, and it occasionally becomes border-line painful in a way that is oddly satisfying to feel before you feel them relax; only for him to repeat it again a few moments later when you purposely squeeze your slick-soaked walls around him just the way he likes.

The white, frothy ring, consisting of your former orgasms and Jacob’s thick creampies, around the base of Jake’s cock gets bigger as you lift yourself up slightly which pulls apart the white-tinted thick slime-like slick and cum but, it still keeps you connected to Jake no matter how far you lift up from him, before slamming yourself down, forcing it to spread out even more when you come back into contact with his abdomen, adding to the sticky-ness that clings to your thighs like spilled, liquidised sugar.

Your head is thrown back again, moans dancing around the sky above Jacob as you feel his throbbing tip push into a spot that had you cumming hard on your last orgasm. “F..fuck..” the whine bubbles up in your throat, making Jake clench his jaw at the sound of it.

“S’that feel good?” His tone is rough and heavy with lustful desire, and you can’t help but squeeze around him even more.

“SO!” An abrupt and harsher thrust from him has you squealing out loudly as a high-pitched, “GOOD!” Is roughly torn from you. “So, F-fuckin’ good..” Your head’s movements are sluggish as you move it around, your gaze turning away from the sky to your blissed out lover, “..want your..” you begin, brows furrowing and mouth pausing an ‘O’ shape as your jaw goes slack for a moment.

“What?” Jacob breathes, “You have me.”

Your hands move from his chest and you rest your body weight completely and solely on his cock. Groans are shared between you both like a secret, Jacob’s eyes squeeze shut for a second before they’re forced open and resting intensely upon you. You slither your hands down the sides of your body slowly, staring back at him just as intensely, and worm your fingers into his grip, pulling his hands away from your hips, making him loosen his possessive grip, and lacing your fingers with his, “..hands.” The veins on his forearms lead up to his now slightly flexed biceps as he supports your weight like it’s nothing — which it doesn’t, not to him, to him you weigh nothing. With Jacob’s arms now bent to keep his hands laced with yours, you begin your pace once more. This time, using him to keep you up, this makes those delicious biceps of his, that he always catches you staring at, flex to their full potential every time you push up off of him to lift yourself up from his cock.

“Use me,” Jacob groans and clenches his teeth against each other, the raspy plea has your walls squeezing him for everything he has left, pulsing around him, beckoning him to cum for a fourth time inside you.

“U..use you..” you giggle breathlessly, smiling down at him, loving the expression of pure, raw love and desire on his face. You lean down, almost pinning his arms to his sides as your face grows closer to his, your lips just barely brush against his, teasing him, heavy breathing mixing with one another as your eyes dart to his lips before connecting with his blown-out pupils, his underlining predatory gaze has you grinning and your body vibrating with excitement. “O-Oh.. but, I already am.” Jacob catches you off guard when he connects his lips with yours, his tongue immediately finding its home inside your mouth as you begin to grind on him with his assisting thrusts helping. He tastes and devours every moan and whine that tries to escape from you, responding with his growling-grunts and sighs in return. When his tip starts pressing into a certain spot, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you breathe heavily and excessively into his mouth before pulling away, your nails dig into his hand and you sit up straight, once again forcing him to keep you steady — not that he is complaining — and angling your hips so his tip doesn’t stop fucking into you just where you need it the most.

“Jacob…!” You cry, your hips now slamming down onto his, “g..give it to m-me..!” Your nearly incoherent plea has Jacob digging the back of his head into the damp sand below him and lifting his hips up which has you nearly falling forward, thankfully you don’t - courtesy of his strength keeping you steady, your knees are elevated completely, your sand covered feet and calves now being the only things in contact with the damp ground. You’re now completely reliant on Jacob keeping you from toppling over to the side. Your thighs tense around his hips as your toes dig into the sand and curl around the grainy surface, “oh! Jacob!” The high-pitched squeal is more than enough for Jacob to carry on with his now pistoning thrusts. “A-All f’it! Wan’ all of you!” Your exposed breasts bounce and jiggle, and Jacob wishes with everything he has that he could take those pebbled nipples into his mouth and swirl his tongue around them just the way you love. The extremely prominent love bites and dark coloured hickeys, old and new, left by him make him feel so much pride and a strong sense of possessiveness, knowing that he left those there, it is a satisfying feeling. His saliva mixed in with the growing shine of your damp skin makes the moonlight create sparkling beads of light on your skin.

Determination, and an emotion you can’t read at this very moment, is solely present on his face, his dark eyes never leave your form as he fucks his love into you, he sharply inhales, the scent of you clouding every sense his has, “M’gonna give it to you…” he pants, licking his lips for a quick moment as he breathing deepens, “yeah..?” And exhales with forced control. All you can do is nod your head, almost hurting your neck with how hard you’re nodding — you need it, crave it, even. You can’t get enough of him, just like he, very clearly, can’t get enough of you.

As your hips meet: the squelching sound becomes louder and louder, your slick has covered you both, your thighs and the entirety of his hips, you’d be embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good when he pulled back for a split second before smashing his cock back inside your raw, quivering, juicy, very overly-sensitive and overstimulated, walls.

“Gonna cum f’me?” He coos, eyes watching as the signs he knows all too well begin to resurface, “Come on, pretty, cum f’me.”

“Jakey…” you whine, dragging his name out; his name is the only thing you can coherently get out without your mindless babbling getting in the way.

“I know, sunshine,” Jacob groans, “I know.” The feeling of his own approaching orgasm has him baring his clenched teeth; his cock is so fucking sensitive from the multiple, passionate rounds but, he won’t cum yet - not until you do. He won’t miss the sight of your fourth orgasm washing over you in a similar manner to that of the waves caressing the soaked sand.

“D..Don’t stop, Jakey, please,” you gasp, walls tightening even more as your orgasm’s approach becomes louder and louder in your veins. Your body shakes, your jaw slackens, your walls squeezing as hard as they can — you never want it to end.

“M’not gonna.. Can’t stop… need you.. need you so much, c’mon gorgeous, do it f’me.. give it to me." Him pleading has always been a kink you can’t seem to find the courage to admit to his face just yet - the way his features soften as the pure desperation takes over, his begging tone and puppy-like eyes as they try to convince you to listen and do as he says — it just does something to you; and you’ve never been able to deprive him for long.

“Jakey! Fuck! Jacob!” You’re unable to control the chanting of his name as your orgasm washes over you, taking your breath away and rendering you unresponsive as it takes away your senses. Jacob curses under his breath at the impossibly tight grip your pussy has on him, choking out moans as his hips now staggeringly snap into yours as his cum fills you up to the brim — making up for the amount that’s spilled out of you.

With this intense orgasm taking you to cloud nine, Jacob, after his cool-down, lowers his hips gently and brings you close to his chest to press his wet lips to yours, engulfing you in his warmth and scent that you find so soothing and grounding. He fucks you through your high, regardless of his overly-used cock screaming at him to stop. You pant heavily into his mouth, gasping for air but never once letting Jacob pull away from you.

The kiss is passionate and electrifying, and it breathes air into you just as much as it takes it away from you. The taste of him is addicting - intoxicating. Jacob always kisses you so thoroughly it makes your head spin and your body preen more for him and his warm touch. Your gentle whimpers are swallowed by your greedy love, again, and again, and again he kisses you, and just when you think your heart will give out from his full it feels - he pulls away, much to your displeasure. But, he doesn’t stray far from you, your lips still brush against one another as you both greedily inhale the fresh sea air, and also each other.

He growls a possessive, deep and low raspy, almost borderline-animalistically, “mine,” against your lips, breathing you in - like the scent and sight of you calms him but, also feeds into the roaring flames of protectiveness and obsession. The sound rumbles in your tummy and you can’t help but squeeze your walls at it. He sighs so quietly, so softly, you fear you wouldn’t have heard had you not been so close you feel it waft over your face like a kiss.

Your hands rest on his shoulders and his arms are curled tightly and comfortingly secure around your waist. Jacob presses a breathless kiss to the corner of your mouth and smiles so sweetly and lovingly, you can feel your heart rate speed up, pumping so full of life at the sight of him so happy - and all because of you. “I love you,” you whisper, tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip again.

“I love you.” He takes your lips against his once more, this time much more delicately. You hum against him, content. “You’re glowing,” he sighs against your lips, in a daze of love, “My Goddess.”

🦢ྀི ྀ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･♡