#imprint

[2022dirt]

Outlines of two alligators that slept through the rain.

[lyinginmeadow]

Current I Paul Lahote x reader

summary: Paul imprints on the one unavailable person he shouldn’t. Intending to ignore it, he falls deeper, pulling you with him. tw: abusive relationship (not with Paul), insecurity, swearing, angst, Paul is lovely, don’t worry Word count: 4k

People within the pack who experienced imprinting described it as instant. A sudden change in atmosphere that had the world tilting and colliding with the one person who was now the center of their universe. 

For Paul, it came in waves. 

Like a current during tide, becoming stronger each time he saw you. 

He was determined to ignore it. The first time he met you, he knew there was no other choice but to ignore the pull you suddenly had on him.  

The bonfire was supposed to be fun; it was supposed to be a way to unwind a bit. Shake off the impossible responsibilities and the doom that seemed to follow the Cullens and therefore the pack.

That was until you walked onto the crowded beach.

You waltzed in hand in hand with Kim, your chatty cousin. Your smile was shining brighter than the sun, pulling him in like a planet that orbited it. 

That should have been his first clue. 

But when Jared’s voice boomed to life next to him, he forgot all about leaving. Your gaze shifted to him, meeting his eyes. 

He was lost. 

Freezing mid-laugh, he couldn’t seem to break the spell that had fallen upon the two of you. The world around you stopped spinning for what felt like hours. The people in it disappeared, turning into blurs. 

He couldn’t stand it. 

He never wanted an imprint, but now you were here, standing right in front of him. A beautiful soul bound to someone who never wanted to be in shackles involuntarily. 

Jared’s laughter pulled the two of you out of the trance, letting the time finally continue as it tended to. He jabbed Paul in his ribs, earning a snarl before making his way to you and leaving Paul behind. 

By the looks of the pack members, they knew. And they kept watching him expectantly. Sam was tense, inching toward Paul like he was a rabid animal that would burst out of its skin at any moment. A valid assumtion that was not far fetched given his history.

But he couldn't care less. His gaze was still on you as you greeted Jared in a tight embrace before sitting down with Kim, who didn’t let go of you since you came in. She followed Paul with a threat present in every ounce of her being.

Your eyes were alert, cruising around each and every person present. You weren’t scared, that much he knew. He could feel you with every breath. Your emotions, your sense of self, pulsing inside him the same way his heart was. Like it was always there. 

There it was again. Your gaze landed on him, sinking its teeth into him and pulling him under the water to drown. His jaw clenched, but he wasn’t able to move. To flinch away. 

You gulped at the intensity in his eyes. A small smile appeared on your lips; you were trying to break the ice. To extinguish a part of the unwelcoming flame glowing in his eyes. 

He looked away. 

And he could feel the hammering of your heart; it beat just as strongly as his did. Their melodies now forever tethered together in a perfect harmony. He felt sick. 

The corners of your lips went taut, turning downward. You didn’t understand why he was so tense or why he looked as though he hated being on the same beach as you. 

But then his gaze snapped back to you. Like he could hear your thoughts and the hurt echoing inside of them. He offered a small smile, nodding his head in greetings. You waved a hand, your heart skipping a beat. A gleam appeared in his eyes, shining brightly and bringing you back to reality.

You answered a question Jared asked, grinning like he brought up your favorite topic. Your hands were flying around, gesturing wildly as you spoke. He listened to your voice as if it were his favorite lullaby. You were interrupted by a set of hands landing on your shoulders. They tensed as if the weight of the world landed on them.

You looked up with a tight smile. Paul’s jaw clenched impossibly tight, teeth grinding together. The man massaged your shoulders as he greeted Jared and Kim, who were now paying their full attention to him. Only you kept slipping up, your eyes shifting to Paul every now and then. 

You had a boyfriend. 

A special someone who, by the looks of it, didn’t make you all that happy. Your shoulder slumped as the glimmers of a smile in your eyes died down. His lips met yours in a rough match you didn’t want to fight in. 

As you two separated, your gaze found Paul’s again. For a split second, he could see the person who walked onto the beach. A caring soul that was buried under unpleasant circumstances. 

You glanced at Kim, who was now animatedly telling your boyfriend some story. He sat next to you, pulling you closer, his arms snaking around your stomach in an affectionate side hug. Your head rested on his shoulder as you bit your lip. You were so quiet now compared to before. It drove Paul insane. 

He wanted nothing more than to whisk you away. But that would mean admitting the imprint. Admitting he saw - felt - more than he wanted to. 

And it scared him beyond belief. 

What if it was just jealousy seeing you committed to someone who wasn’t him? The instinct to claim burned brighter than the North Star on a clear night. It guided him to act impulsively. Which he couldn’t afford. Instead, he gave you one last smile, committing your face - the one he first saw - into memory and fled without a warning. 

Sam shouted for him to return, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t face you, and the happiness he would shatter to pieces if you found out the bond shackled you to him of all people. As far as he knew, you didn’t know anything about the world he was a part of. And Paul wanted it to stay that way. 

Your smile haunted him once he phased. Taunting him. All he could do was run as fast and as far as his paws let him. 

 It was pouring rain, a weather so fitting for your home that one would think you were born with an umbrella. And normally, you had it on you in case droplets of water came down. 

Today was not one of those days. Tommy was supposed to pick you up, but he was a no-show. As per usual, you put faith in your boyfriend of three years only for him to let you down. 

So now you were left to your own devices. Your dead phone was tucked in your purse, utterly useless. The rain picked up, making you feel as though you were drowning. 

There was a sudden spurt of lights heading your way. The truck stopped right beside you, the window rolling down. “Hop in.” Paul was behind the wheel, his gaze warm with a flicker of an emotion you couldn’t quite place. You returned his smile, not needing him to tell you twice. 

“Thanks. You’re Paul, right? We haven’t officially met, but we saw each other the other day on the beach.” You spill out, just now coming to your senses. Jumping in a car with someone you didn’t know might not have been the smartest move on your part.

One meeting was enough for him to worm his way into your dreams and thoughts. It was embarrassing to admit how easily he found himself in your mind. Like this wasn’t the first time you actually spoke to one another.  

“That’s me. So how come you’re on your own in the rain?” 

“Oh, my ride ditched. I think.”

“You think?” 

“Tom probably just forgot. And my phone died, so I can’t really remind him.” You waved your hand, trying to seem indifferent to the whole situation.

He stayed quiet for a bit, his gaze searching yours before it returned back to the road. “Right. Forgot about his girlfriend.” 

There was an edge to his tone, a disapproval that he masked with a slight indifference in his features. But you saw the way his jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth. 

You didn’t want to defend Tom; he didn’t deserve it. But then what did it make you if you couldn’t even utter a simple sentence? He was your partner, and everyone had bad days. “Yes, happens to everyone.” You said, watching him intently.

“Mhm.” He nodded, not convinced in the slightest. 

Your features hardened, “He’s a good person. He probably just got busy. It really isn’t a big deal. You don’t know either of us; you can’t really judge.” 

He shook his head, not sparing you a look. He knew you were right; he didn’t know you. But you were his imprint. You were now his responsibility even when he didn’t want you to be. 

And now you were here, sitting in his truck because your boyfriend was a piece of shit and you defended him. He didn’t want to let that slide; he shouldn’t have. But it was clearly hurting you that someone was attacking Tom.

A wave of jealousy and protectiveness rolled through him. He sighed, “You’re right. I’m sorry, but from my limited perspective, he’s an ass.”

You frowned, ready to defend Tom again, but he didn’t give you a chance. “You could catch a cold. Or someone could have kidnapped you, or crash into you. The rain is heavy, and you were not exactly visible on the road.”

His eyes shifted to you for a moment, a sense of tenderness and worry in them. “Like that would happen.” You chuckled, waving his worry off.

He rolled his eyes at your recklessness. In his mind, you were a hazard to your own well-being. “It could have. The cold part will probably happen.” 

“Well, thank you for being my hero.” You said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. 

A smirk formed on his lips, “Pleasure.”

You rolled your eyes, hugging your shivering form tighter. He didn’t even look at you and turned the heater up. After a beat of silence, he spoke up again, “Are you okay?”

The car pulled to a stop, and you just noticed he drove you right to your house. Part of you freaked out that he knew just where to go, but the more sensible part cooed that Kim probably told him where you were staying. 

“Why do you ask?” You frowned, glancing at him. The rain was falling heavily, thudding onto the roof of the truck.

He shrugged, searching your eyes. It seemed as though he was looking right into your soul. “I don't know. You don’t seem okay.”

Chuckle left your lips involuntarily. “Well, I’m drenched, probably ruining your seat, so there’s that.” 

“But that’s not all.” He was frowning again, and something in you wanted to reach out and smooth the line between his brows. 

You glanced toward the house, biting your lip. “I-I don’t really want to talk about it.” 

“Don’t have to. But if you need someone, I’m here.” He couldn’t believe the sentence left his lips before he could stop it. 

And by the looks of it, you couldn’t believe it either. Your eyes grew larger for a second, face heating up. Schooling your expression, you gave him a small smile, already reaching for the handle. “Thank you.” You whispered, leaving the car, robbing him of saying anything else. 

He didn’t meet you for a while after that. Not truly. He came by in his wolf form, checking up on you. And you again seemed happy. 

Or as happy as you could be. 

Days seemed to drag from the moment he picked you up on the road. His thoughts revolved around you, making him insufferable to be around in his wolf form. 

Every time you showed up with Kim, he was pulled deeper in the water, drowning with every glance you spared him. With every little smile that crossed your features. 

He could hear your heart now, beating faster than usual, your cheeks heating up. Blinking, he realized he was staring. Again. 

It was involuntary; he couldn’t help but glance at you once in a while just to make sure you were alright. As if anything could happen to you in the pack house. 

Someone cleared their throat, and Paul wasn’t able to pinpoint who exactly it was when you had him under your spell. Your eyes were intoxicating, a magnetic force.

You looked at Kim, who was the source of the interruption. She gestured to your lit-up phone, the text on the screen freezing the smile on your face. 

The reality of your situation dawned on you. The beat of your heart picked up again as panic took over your actions. You took your phone, excusing yourself before leaving abruptly. 

Worried glances followed you outside, their whispering taunting you. Your lip wobbled as you looked down at your phone, reading the text over and over again. 

Where the fuck are you again?

Squeezing the screen tight, you wanted it to disappear. Why be with someone so awful when there were plenty of fish in the sea? A sense of guilt pooled in the pit of your stomach, replacing the butterflies that not so long ago danced around. 

You shouldn’t be feeling like this. 

A pull toward someone who wasn’t Tom. A feeling of belonging with someone you barely knew, but who seemed to be there, no questions asked. Someone who occupied your every thought like he had made a permanent residence inside your mind. 

There was a memory resurfacing of Paul’s warm hand wrapped around your torso, making sure you don’t fall while hiking. 

You didn’t go together; it was surprising to bump into him on the trail. He kept grumbling about the woods being dangerous and how Kim should have told you, but you ignored him, waving him off. 

It was a pleasant afternoon, much better than you originally intended it to be. He managed to make you laugh, making your day with a bunch of stories about his friends and how stupid they were. But behind the words, you could see the fondness in his eyes. He loved them even when he wouldn’t say it. 

When you went back home, you had to remind yourself of Tom and how much you still cared for him. Three years of a relationship that you could still save, because you truly believed he was worth it. 

You two had a future all mapped out together, and his mood swings were just a temporary hiccup.

A set of steps pulled you out of your thoughts as a body slumped next to you onto the swing, making it squeak. Paul’s hand found yours, putting the phone down. “You deserve better.”

“You don’t even know me.” You shook your head. 

He shrugged, “I’m a pretty good judge of character. And even if I wasn’t, I could see it. You deserve better.” 

You two stayed quiet for a while, sitting on the swing, looking ahead at the forest surrounding Emily’s house. It was peaceful, the birds chirped as the wind whistled, picking up. 

“I want to believe it.” You whispered. 

He gifted you one of his smiles, making your heart beat fast again. “I’ll make sure you will.” 

You shoved his arm away, chuckling. “Don’t play with me.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The bruise on your lips burned even when the blood had already dried up. Tears stained your face, running down in a free fall. There was no stopping them as you drove on the rain-stricken road.

The weather was on your side, matching the emotional trainwreck you had been feeling. You desperately needed your cousin, but her house was empty, with her phone turned off. 

Panic overtook you when you found out, your body changing into autopilot as you hopped into the car again. 

You weren’t sure you knew where exactly you were going, but you took a turn onto a secluded driveway. The trees parted, revealing a small house covered by moss with a porch wrapped around it. 

You remembered when Kim told you to always come here if something happened. Her voice was adamant, demanding even, edged with a sense of urgency. 

As the engine died, you wiped the tears away, smudging the mascara. You wanted nothing more than to curl in your cousin's embrace, letting the tears fall again until there was nothing left. 

Memories rushed back, causing your thoughts to close up again, heavy with emotions. It happened so quickly you couldn’t really understand it. 

Tom didn’t used to be like this. He was charming, handsome, and smart. Always laughing, bringing people in with his charisma and easy-going personality. 

So when he asked you out, you were over the moon. The beginning of your relationship was something out of a fairytale. Roses decorated your dorm every week, and a good morning text was a daily occurrence. He introduced you to his family, took you on dates whenever you were free.

There wasn’t a particular day when it all stopped. It began slowly, creeping in that you didn’t notice it until it was too late. 

You couldn’t believe it when the first back-handed comments happened. You attributed it to stress. In your mind, there was no way he could be cruel. 

Back-handed comments about your weight, outfit, or even facial expression turned into snide comments - hurtful comments. Their frequency doubled, and every day, you anticipated another bite that was slowly chipping away at your sense of self. 

But you hold hope that it was just a rough patch; everyone had those. He was your first boyfriend, your first love. Love that you couldn’t feel anymore, but maybe it could be rekindled. Even when deep down, you knew your heart began to belong to someone else.

That hope was extinguished after today's argument. 

His words cut deeper than any petty comment he ever made. You had dedicated three years to this relationship, only for him to sleep with other women and laugh in your face. 

“Maybe if you could satisfy my needs better, I wouldn’t have strayed.” 

“Don’t you dare put this on me! You’re not a fucking cat to stray away. I can’t believe I ever put up with your bullshit.” You bit back, feeling the anger inside rising. 

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “As if you could do better. I settled, so get it through that tick skull of yours.” 

He truly believed what he was saying. It made you sick to your stomach that you stayed, let him squish you under his foot as if you were something less.  

“How about you get this through your empty skull? We’re done, asshole.”

The slap echoed, bouncing between the walls. You didn’t wait for him to apologize. Or to say anything justifying the action. Adrenaline kicked in, and you ran out of his place, leaving him behind. 

You shook your head, trying to fight off the tears that were burning behind your eyes. Before you lost it again, you made it out of the car and knocked on the door. 

There was a shuffling inside before the door opened, revealing someone you didn’t anticipate. He looked as though he had just woken up, his hair sticking out in every possible direction. 

His eyes sharpened the moment they landed on your face, taking in every possible detail. The air was tense around you two as his jaw clenched. 

“I’m sorry. Is- is Kim here? I can’t get hold of her.” You said, your gaze lowering to the ground. The intensity of his eyes burned, scorching you, and you couldn’t handle it. 

His thumb found your chin and ever so gently pulled your face up. The hatred that burned in his eyes softened, worry lacing his next words, “Let’s get you inside. I’ll try and get her for you, yea?” 

You nodded, wincing as his thumb touched the tender part of your busted lip. “Sorry. I’ll get you an ice pack.” 

Paul’s words couldn’t even begin to cover the way he was feeling. He was livid. Red tinted his vision, and if it weren’t for you needing someone gentle right now, he would act on the feeling. 

You looked so fragile, so broken, that it took everything in him not to go after the thing that caused you harm. The instinct to protect was overwhelming, guiding his actions. 

He was scared - terrified even - to touch you. He gently guided you to the kitchen, taking out the ice pack from the designated space in the freezer. With so many pack members, Emily thought it would be best to be fully stocked. 

He handed it to you before rummaging through the medicine cabinet to get the disinfectant and a cotton to wipe away the residual blood. He made his way back to you, sitting on the chair, and looked down. Tears were left unshed in your eyes, glossing them over. He took the ice pack from you, setting it aside. “Let me.” He whispered as if not to scare you.

You didn’t protest, only nodding, as he ever so gently tapped the cotton onto the sensitive skin. Eyes alert, your gaze hadn’t left him, but your body relaxed as soon as he made contact with your skin. He could feel you calming down through the bond, and he tried to mask the way it made his heart beat faster. 

“There you go,” He whispered, his breath tickling your cheek as he stood up to his full height again. He was so quiet, so different from what you got to know him as. 

“Thank you.” You said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 

He searched your expression, his eyes roaming over your face. “Did he do anything else?” 

You looked away, shaking your head as you hugged your form. He might have hit you “just” one time, but the damage he caused by his words was much greater than any injury he could inflict. 

“You-” He stopped, thinking over his next words. He didn’t want to frighten you further. His only wish was to cradle you to his chest and shield you from the rest of the world. You hummed, prompting him to continue, “If you need a place, or someone to help you move or somethin’, I- all of us are here for you.” 

“I know, thank you.” Tears gathered in your eyes, but you blinked them away. 

“No need to thank. You’re one of us.”

His hand found yours before he could stop himself. He flinched, moving away, but your fingers already clasped his, squeezing his hand. 

A gleam appeared in your eyes. “Am I?” 

“Well yea, you’re Kim’s cousin. And my friend.” The word imprint burned in his throat, clawing its way out, and he had to shave it back down. Away from his mind. 

You chuckled, searching his eyes. It stunted you how genuine his gaze was, the raw emotion in it. “So we’re friends now?”

He shrugged. “I think so.”

You pulled him into an embrace. He huffed in a response, not expecting the impact of your hug. He smiled into it, his hands slowly closing around you. “I’m glad we are.” You whispered after a beat of silence, squeezing him tight. He was practically a stranger to you, but there was something pulling you closer to him. 

You didn’t understand it, but your hearts beat in the same rhythm, your souls sang the same song. And that was enough for you. 

“Me too.” He rasped, caressing your hair. In that moment, he wanted to hold you and never let you go. Something in the way you were clinging onto him told him you felt the same.   

[aureateink]

i’m obsessed with your paul fic!! i loved the subtle lines from the song weaved into the story, you’re a wonderful writer 💓 part 2?? :)

alright, twist my arm 😂

pairing: Paul Lahote x human!reader

cw: MDNI 18+ smut, biting, trauma dumping, semi-public sex/ voyeurism (the werewolves can hear you)

Part One

Paul spun the two of you around, pressing you up against the wall as he claimed your mouth again. Every pass of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, it felt like he was putting you back together again.

He kissed along your jaw, nudging your head up with his nose to start spoiling your neck. You dug your nails into his shoulders, clinging to him, and he made a low growling sound in his throat.

He turned his head suddenly and you felt his blunt teeth sink into your skin. Bright pain lanced up your shoulder. You yelped, but his tongue glided over the aching spot, soothing the bite mark he'd just made.

Heat pooled between your legs. He just bit you, and you fucking loved it.

He chuckled against the skin of your neck, an warm, melodic sound. “Liked that, hm?” He mumbled, trailing soft pecks back up to your lips.

You nodded, showing him just how much with a filthy kiss. He smiled against you before wrestling your tongue into submission.

You were light-headed from all the sensations. Pain, joy, fear, bone-melting desire, him.

Footsteps plodded up your front porch. “Hey, y/n, need any help with—oh shit. What happened to your door?”

Paul turned his head to glare at the intruder, but didn't make any move to lower you to the ground.

“I, uh—” Jacob stuttered, standing like a deer in headlights in the smashed doorway.

You kicked your feet, hoping Paul would get the message to put you down, but he only tightened his grip on your thighs.

The men stared at each other, and it took you a second to realize they were having an internal conversation.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“Really, you going to fuck her right in front of me?”

“I'd kill you right in front of her if she asked me to. Fuck off.”

“You can't just treat her like crap for six months and then decide you want her when she finally gets sick of your shit—”

A growl ripped from Paul’s chest. He could feel the shift coming, his wolf pressing beneath his skin with urgency. You squirmed in his arms, his grip too tight, and he set you on your feet.

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, and make you trust him even less.

“Paul.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, your skin blissfully cool against his, and to his shock, his wolf backed off a bit.

“Damn, she's got you trained already?” Jacob was taunting him now, being petty out of pathetic jealousy.

“I won't tell you again. Get out,” Paul snarled in his head.

“Y/n, seriously if you need help—”

“I think you should go, Jake,” y/n said, crossing your arms over your chest. Seeing Jacob’s arrogant smirk crumble was like Christmas fucking morning. “I won't be needing your help anymore.”

Delight curled along Paul’s spine, heightened further by the darkening bite mark he left at the curve of your shoulder, clear as day for Jacob, and the pack, to see.

You were his. And it was about time he started screaming it from the rooftops.

“Bye, Jake.” Paul grinned, walking across the room to show him the door. That he broke. Shit, I gotta fix that.

Jacob flipped him off and trudged down the stairs, climbing onto his little motorcycle and driving off. He'd be sour for a few days, but they always worked it out.

“I'm sorry about your door,” Paul said, picking it up and inspecting the hinge. He'd ripped the door clean off of it, tearing up the wood and bending the metal.

“It's okay,” you replied, shuffling your feet, a nervous energy wafting from you.

Now that the heat of the moment had waned, the reality of situation came crashing down around him. How could he have been so awful to you?

“Y/n, I—”

“You don't have to apologize.” You cut him off. “I know the imprint is challenging, and for you to bond with someone you hated so much…” you trailed off, eyes welling with tears.

Paul rushed over, pulling you into his chest. “I never hated you, I was—” he buried his head in your hair, shame burning under his skin, “—I was afraid.”

“Of me?” you sniffled against his chest, tears wet on his skin.

He shook his head, then nodded. “Yes and no. I was scared of what you knew, what a danger that posed to my family. And then I saw you and…and the imprint gave you so much power over me.”

Your hands curled into his sides, your head burrowing closer, like you were trying to crawl into his skin.

“Not only were you in the position to destroy my family, but I would have done it for you if you asked me to. Ripped myself to pieces if that's what you wanted.”

You lifted your tear-streaked face to look at him. “I would never do that—”

“I know, I know.” He shushed you, dropping a kiss to your red nose. “I know that now.”

“I even burned the notes—”

“What?” He held you out at arms length, dark brows drawn together. “When?”

“Months ago,” you said, and his jaw dropped.

“Months ago? Why?”

“You imprinted on me, and I didn't—I wanted—”

Affection overwhelmed him, making his eyes sting and nose tingle. He cupped your face and drew you back towards him, brushing his lips against yours. “You wanted to protect me,” he said, bumping your noses together.

You nodded, reaching up to wipe something from his cheek. Not a tear, fuck no.

“But your research? You didn't burn all of it, did you?”

“No, no. Just the things about the pack, and anything that would lead someone down the same path I took.”

Paul just stared down at you, awestruck. He couldn't believe that he was holding you, kissing you, sharing secrets with you. It was the sweetest agony he’d ever experienced, next to imprinting on you.

“Paul, I—to be clear, I do want to fuck you.”

He snorted a laugh at the subject change, warmth spreading from his chest to the tips of his ears. “But?” He raised an eyebrow.

“But could we just…hang out for awhile? I know you, but I don't feel like I know you. Like what's your favorite color?” Your fingers traced absent shapes on his chest, eyes flitting nervously around his face.

He brushed his thumb beneath your right eye. “This one, your eyes.”

“You better stop it or I'm going to climb your wolfy ass like a tree.” You swatted his hand away and took a step back, leaving him laughing.

God, when was the last time he laughed like this?

“How about we start with unpacking your things?” He offered. “And I'll fix your door.”

You gave him a relieved smile. “Sounds perfect.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You and Paul spent the rest of the day righting your home. While you unpacked, he not only fixed the door, but about ten other small, broken things you didn't have the tools, the height, or the wherewithal to repair yourself.

When the sun began to set, Paul left you bundled up on the couch to pick up take out from your favorite place in Forks. He stationed Seth outside your door for protection, and Seth gave you a thumbs up through the window.

Paul returned half-an-hour later, and you ate at the coffee table so you could watch a movie, legs curled up beneath you, Paul's hand resting heavily on your thigh. Between every bite, he leaned in for kiss.

After you finished, you climbed up onto the couch and stretched out across his chest, soaking up his radiant heat like cat. You knew you still had a long way to go before you'd be able to fully commit to him, although in a lot of ways you already had.

He'd been amazing today, thoughtful, attentive, almost goofy. But Rome wasn't built in a day, and for this relationship to work, it needed to stand on a sturdy foundation of trust and respect.

Not magic, lupine bonding instincts.

But you were confident that in time, you and Paul would get there.

***smut ahead!*** 🚨

You pressed a few kisses along the muscular expanse of his chest, marveling at the specimen of a man beneath you. His pecs just looked so…

“Watch yourself, bookworm,” he warned, fisting your hair and pulling your head back, revealing the bite mark you'd left over his heart.

You were about to ask why, when you felt something hard surge against your hip. A devilish smile curled your lips.

You rolled your hips against him, the lightest grind, and his eyes fluttered closed, head falling back onto the arm of the couch. His hands gripped your waist freezing you in place.

“Baby, don't play with me,” he groaned, his cock already straining against his flannel sweatpants.

“But it's fuuun,” you teased, fastening your lips to the already fading bite mark and sucking hard.

“I won't be gentle.”

“If I wanted gentle, I'd find Jacob.”

Paul flipped you beneath him, quicker than you could blink, his enormous weight pressing you into the couch. “Say his name while I'm around again, and he won't have a dick to fuck with,” he growled, grinding his cock over your clothed pussy.

Already, you were so sensitive, your body lighting up with pleasure from the friction, the rumble of his voice in your ear. You rocked back against him, chasing that feeling.

“You smell fucking divine, babygirl,” he groaned, burying his head into your neck as you ground against him, meeting you thrust for thrust like a couple of horny teenagers. “Drove me wild, smelling you all the damn time. Felt like you were turning yourself on just to get a rise out of me.” He lapped at your neck, dragging his tongue along your thundering pulse.

“I was,” you admitted, breathless, your peak just out of reach.

He pulled his head back, his hips lifting off of you. “You were?” You expected to see anger in his eyes, but they were molten with desire, a predator eyeing his prey.

You bit your lip, nodding.

“You know I wasn't the only one that could smell you, right?” He cocked his head, eyes skating down your torso pinned beneath him before flicking back up to your face.

“I knew it made you jealous. And I wanted them to see what was yours.”

A growl echoed from the barrel of his chest. “You're going to be the fucking death of me.” He smashed his mouth to yours in a brutal, claiming kiss, his canines dragging across your lips before parting them with his tongue.

His hands found the buttons of your pj top, ripping it open like it was made of tissue paper, sending buttons scattering across the room.

“Hey!” You protested.

“I'll buy you a hundred more,” he said, diving into your bare tits, popping one pert nipple into his hot mouth, then the other, lashing them mercilessly with his tongue.

You cried out, arching into his mouth.

“Be as loud as you want, baby. Let them hear what's mine.” He tugged down your shorts, two thick fingers gliding over your soaked panties. You moaned again, lifting your hips to chase his touch. “That's it, y/n. Already so wet for me.”

He caught your mouth once more, swallowing your next sound as he slipped his fingers under your panties, making direct contact with your weeping pussy. He dipped the tip of his middle finger inside before swirling it around your clit, sending you into fucking orbit.

You bucked against him, throwing your head back against the couch cushions as your body tightened, your walls clenching around nothing. “Please,” you whined against his cheek. “Need you.”

“Aw, no more snarky ass comments?” He teased, lightly slapping your sensitive clit, just enough to make you writhe beneath him.

“Paul,” you begged, trying and failing to reach for his cock. He was too damned tall. “I've waited so long.” You knew you sounded pitiful, and if he hadn't rendered your brain to needy, slutty mush, you'd be mortified.

“I know, you’ve been such a patient girl for me.” He reached between you, freeing his cock so it slapped against your inner thigh. “I'm sorry it took me so long to take care of this sweet pussy.” He shifted himself down until his mouth was level with your slit. “Just a taste, baby? Then I promise to fuck you stupid.”

You nodded vigorously, carding your fingers through his black hair. You never thought Paul would be so chatty during sex, not that you were complaining. The filthy words in his growly voice was like music to your ears.

He flattened his tongue against your slit, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, and you nearly came right then and there.

“Fuck, Paul,” you moaned, tightening your grip on his hair. His rumble of satisfaction vibrated your sensitive skin and you shivered. “I'm so fucking close.”

You didn't have to tell him twice. He started feasting on your pussy with abandon, slurping and sucking like you were his favorite meal on earth. Stars danced behind your eyes, broken moans and gibberish falling from your lips. You were certain the entire pack, and probably the next pack over, could hear you crying out for him, but you didn't give a single fuck.

He eased a finger inside of you, curling it against your spongy walls, and you shattered, an orgasm ripping through you at dizzying speed.

You screamed so loud he flinched, glancing up at you to make sure you weren’t hurt.

“Fucking hell, baby,” he purred, gently lapping at your clit as you twitched and jerked away, oversensitive. “Damn near broke my finger.” He rose up to hover over you, pressing light kisses along your cheeks and eyelids, coaxing you back to him.

You threw your arms around his neck and brought your lips to his, tasting yourself on his tongue. You felt him chuckle, his hands sliding under your back to press your hips against him.

“Something funny?” You nipped at his lower lip.

“They're begging me to keep it down,” he snickered.

“We'll get them some ear plugs.” You reached between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around his cock. The skin was so hot you nearly pulled away, the head slick with precum and pulsing against your wrist.

He grunted, his hips thrusting into your hand. “Now who’s playing.” He batted your hand away, and leaned back to line himself up with your entrance. “Ready for me?”

“God, yes.” You threw your head back as he started to slide in, your walls clenching hard around him.

“Let me in, babygirl,” he cooed, rubbing your thigh slung over his hip.

You forced your muscles to relax, breathing hard, and he slowly stretched you open, pain and pleasure stirring together until you couldn't differentiate the two, lost in the exquisite torture of him.

“I won't last five minutes with you squeezing me like that—fuck,” his voice cracked into a low moan, his hips stuttering forward almost involuntarily. “You know what? C’mere.” He guided your arms to wrap around his neck and braced his forearm against your lower back. In a quick movement, he stood up, bringing you with him.

Your bodies didn't separate an inch, your tits squished against his chest, his cock still buried inside you. Gravity pulled you down a little father onto him, in fact, and you both groaned at the new angle.

He carried you across the house and into your bedroom, tossing you onto the pillows by your headboard. You hadn't even stopped bouncing before he pounced, sliding back into your heat with a little more ease than before.

“There we go,” he murmured into your neck, drawing his hips back before rolling them forwards.

You clawed at his back, moaning against his ear as he thrust into you again and again, filling you near to splitting, before retreating again. Soon, you were stupid with pleasure, mumbling incoherently and lifting your hips in time with his.

“Look at you, so fucking pretty taking my cock. Feel good, baby?”

You nodded, tears squeezing from the corners of your eyes as he picked up the pace, pounding into you.

“Want to feel you come around me. Can you do that for me ‘fore I fill you up?” The pad of his middle finger circled your clit, making your eyes roll back into your head, your muscles turning to goo.

His was fighting to keep a stable pace, his muscles rippling across his abdomen, veins bulging along his thick arms. You could tell he was close, his eyes locked on where your bodies met.

“Fuck, Paul. I'm gonna come,” you whined, gripping his thighs as your body wound itself up, spiraling endlessly tighter.

“I'm with ‘ya, babygirl. C’mon,” he panted, making tighter circles on your clit, his whole body trembling with the effort to control himself.

The coil in your stomach snapped, hurtling you over your peak at the same moment he came undone, both of you crying out as the tsunami of pleasure dragged you down together.

You felt his cock buck inside of you, filling you with his boiling hot release. The temperature soothed your overworked muscles, and you sagged into the bed with a contented sigh. Your whole body was shivering in aftershocks, small waves of pleasure making you clench around his softening length.

He eased himself down onto your left side, gathering you into his chest. His heart hammered beneath his shining skin, sweat collecting along the grooves of muscle and his hairline.

“You're incredible,” he murmured, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your bruised lips. “Never thought I'd see you beg for me.”

You couldn't even think of a rebuttal, all of the attitude wrung out of your body like a sponge. You just swatted at his chest, though it took a concerted effort to even lift your arm.

“In all fairness, I’d beg like a dog for you,” he whispered, smiling.

“How the mighty fall,” you teased, kissing underneath his jaw.

You both were quiet for a few moments, breathing in time with one another, your heart beats synchronizing. Peace like you hadn't felt in years settled over you, an overwhelming *rightness* that welded your fractured heart together again.

This was the reason you came to Forks, even if you didn't know it at the time. Your soul was searching for his.

“So…” he shifted to look down at you. “Ready to go to dinner at Sam’s?”

You groaned, burying your head into his neck as he burst out laughing.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

aggggghhh, I love him.

Hope you enjoyed! 🫶

[fashionteahouse]

How would the pack react walking into Emily's house, and they're really loud, and they see their imprint sleeping on the floor?

this shall be interesting hope you enjoy :)

sleeping on the floor - pack x reader

Sam:

Boisterous noise is normal for the pack mates. Most of them talked loud of what happened during patrol and some talked about how hungry they were. The next tribe could hear their loud mouths. Sam was just ready to see his imprint. Seeing you asleep on the floor, he would make everyone silent with one word.

“Quiet.”

Firm and stern.

Kneeling to make sure that you are sleeping, he smiled softly at your figure and scoop you into his arms. You don’t even know that you had left Emily’s house until you wake up in the warm bed at the home you and Sam share.

Jared:

He talks loud. He laughs loud. He jokes loud. He enjoys it when his pack brothers are loud with him. Bringing vibrancy into the room or wherever they are, brings him immense joy.

Getting close to Emily’s home, both he and his wolf was excited to see their imprint. His pack brothers were loud as always and so was he.

Walking in and finding you asleep, his eyes zero in on you. He immediately tells everyone,

“Shut up. Y/N’s sleeping.”

It’s quiet as he walks over to you and scoops you into his arms and gently kisses your forehead.

“Just can’t keep off of the floor, huh?” he coos to you in a whisper in your ear. With that, he’s taking you home.

Paul:

Getting to Emily’s house meant getting to you. Depending on his mood, he’s in on the rowdiness or he’s just keeping to himself with you and the destination in mind.

He doesn’t mind the boisterous noise.

Pushing open the door, he finds you on the floor fast asleep. He would ask questions on why you’re on the floor later. But now, he has everyone quiet and has everyone’s attention when he grits out,

“Can you all shut the fuck up?”

You’re in his arms fast as he’s already heading out the door. You being disturbed meant that he was disturbed.

Embry:

Not minding his ribs and stomach hurting from the laughing at the jokes and shenanigans of his pack brothers, he’s making his way to Emily’s home.

He couldn’t wait to see you. Being away at patrol meant being away from you. His wolf itched to see you. The man in him itched to see you.

He stops in his tracks when he’s looking for you and finds you sleeping on the floor. Irritated that his pack brothers didn’t get the idea that you were asleep and they were being too loud.

A loud, “Shhhhh.”

It’s ringing through the house and everyone stops and be quiet.

You being picked up from the floor eases his worries as you are now in his arms being carried away. He moves out of the home so you both can go to the home that you both shared.

Jacob:

Being around rowdiness didn’t bother him. He could get just a rowdy. Especially when he disagrees with something. Loud debates that he would have with his pack brothers could be heard from anywhere.

Picking you up from Emily’s house was the thing he was looking forward to. Loud cackles rang in his ears and he enters the home to find you on the floor, asleep.

“Shut up! Shut up!”

They do shut up.

You’re picked up off of the floor and into his strong arms as he carefully takes you out of the house so he could lay right asleep with you, but, just in his bed.

Leah:

Most of the time, the loud boisterous voices got on her nerves. She joined in here and there if you were around, but you weren’t around this time.

You were over Emily’s and that’s where everyone was going to. They wouldn’t shut up about her food.

She just wanted to be close to you and touch you and smell you. She’s the first one through the door with you in mind. She stops in her tracks when she looks down at your sleeping figure on the floor.

“All of you! Shut the hell up.”

The pack was used to her bold nature so they indeed shut the hell up. You’re in her arms and you shift a bit from the change.

She rushed you to a bed for you to sleep in. Just somewhere where loud mouths wouldn’t be located.

Seth:

His pack brothers were talking loud and so was he. He laughed as everyone was outgoing. He liked to have fun. If there was fun and loud conversation, he would join and insert himself.

Heading in the direction of Emily’s home, he got excited as he got closer and closer to you.

Stopping at the doorway, he sees you sleeping, preventing anyone else from entering the home. They all ask him what’s his problem. Loudly.

“Y/N’s sleeping!”

Quietly, they all watch as Seth picks you up with his strength. Seth doesn’t bother to tell them that he’s leaving because he’s already out the door.

[marypickfords]

Imprint (Takashi Miike, 2006)

[exhausted-undead]

happy (late) womens day! have some sirins

slavic birds my beloveds never stop serving cunt

[fanfics4all]

Better Than a Bike

Request: Yes / No I'll take any fluff or smut involving Jacob Black and/or Embry, please, and thank you. Paul and Quil can tag along, too, but not together. @fandom-princess-forevermore

Request are open but ONLY if they’re Twilight or Supernatural! <3 Have a nice day/night

Jacob Black x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 1412

Warnings: SMUT!

Y/N: Your Name 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

I watched him from the kitchen window of our cabin, my heart doing that familiar, frantic tap-dance against my ribs. He was shirtless, of course, muscles glistening with sweat as he worked on the frame of an old motorcycle. Every shift of his shoulders, every flex of an old motorcycle. Every shift of his shoulders, every flex of his corded forearm, was a study in controlled power. At twenty-two, he was all man- a far cry from the lanky boy I’d met years ago. My man. The thought still sent a shiver through me, a primal echo of the imprint bond that had snapped into place the moment we met.

The screen door slammed. I didn’t turn around, just kept watching his reflection in the glass. I felt him before I saw him, that magnetic, alive presence filling the room. 

“You’re staring, Y/N.” His voice was a low rumble, gravelly from disuse. 

“You’re worth staring at.” I said, finally turning. 

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smudge of grease on his jaw. His dark eyes were fixed on me, intense and hungry. 

“You’re pouting. Why?” 

I shrugged, tracing the wood grain of the counter. “You’ve been out there for three hours. The bike is more interesting than me.” 

A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. In two strides, he was in front of me, the scent of engine oil, pine, and pure Jacob washing over me. His hands, rough and warm, framed my face. 

“Nothing,” He growled, his voice dropping to a whisper that vibrated straight to my core. 

“Is more interesting than you. Not the bike, not the pack, not the whole damn Olympic Peninsula.” 

His mouth crashed down on mine. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was a claim. Hot, demanding, all tongue, teeth, and possessiveness that should have scared me, but only made me melt. I moaned into his mouth, my hands flying up to tangle in his perpetually messy hair. He tasted like summer and wildness and mine. He broke the kiss, his breath coming in short, hot puffs against my lips. 

“You think I don’t feel you? Every second?” He murmured, one hand sliding down my neck, over my collarbone, to palm my breast through my thin tank top. My nipple peaked instantly, aching for his touch. 

“You think I’m out there and don’t feel this need burning in you? It’s a constant hum in my blood, Y/N. A fucking drumbeat.” 

His words were like a physical caress. I arched into his hand. 

“Then stop talking.” I breathed.

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a sound that was almost a snarl, he hooked his hands under my thighs and lifted me onto the counter, knocking a bowl of fruit to the floor with a clatter we both ignored. He stepped between my legs, his hard, denim-clad erection pressed instantly against the thin fabric of my shorts. The friction was delicious, maddening. 

“These,” He said, fingers hooking into the waistband of my shorts and panties. 

“Are in the way.” 

In one swift, rough motion, he pulled them both down my legs and tossed them aside. The cool air of the cabin hit my exposed skin, followed immediately by the scorching heat of his gaze. He stared, his eyes blazing with a possessive fire that made me feel utterly naked and powerfully desired. 

“Jake…” 

“Look at you.” He breathed, his hands sliding up my bare thighs, pushing them wider. 

“All for me.” He leaned in, by instead of kissing my mouth, he trailed his lips down my throat, over the swell of my breast. He took the fabric of my tank top in his teeth and pulled it down, freeing my breast to his mouth. His tongue flicked over my nipple, once, twice, before he frew the whole peak into the wet, searing heat of his mouth. 

A sharp cry tore from my throat. The sensation was electric, a direct line of pleasure zinging from my breast to the throbbing apex of my thighs. I bucked against him, my fingers clutching at his shoulders, blunt nails digging into his skin. He suckled harder, his hand finding its way between my legs. His fingers slid through my slick folds with an appreciative groan. 

“So wet already.” He muttered against my skin. 

“Always so ready for me.” He circled my clit with a torturously slow, expert touch, the rough pad of his thumb applying just the right pressure. 

“Please!” I begged, my head falling back. The world narrowed to his touch, his scent, the overwhelming rightness of his body against mine. 

“Please what?” He teased, adding a second finger, sliding them both inside me in one smooth, deep stroke. 

I gasped, my inner muscles clenching around him. “God, Jake… more.” 

He began to move his fingers, a slow, deep fuck that had me seeing stars. His thumb kept up its relentless circles on my clit, the dual assault dragging me swiftly to the edge. My hips matched his rhythm, chasing the coiling, tightening pleasure. I was babbling, pleading, a litany of his name and broken pleas. 

“Cum for me, Y/N.” He commanded, his voice thick with desire. 

“Let me feel you.” 

It was the authority in his voice, the raw need, that pushed me over. My orgasm ripped through me, violent and shattering. I cried out, my body bowing off the counter as waves of exquisite sensation pulsed through me, my core gripping his fingers like a vise. Before the last tremor had even faded, he was unbuckling his jeans, freeing his erection. He was thick, veined, and gloriously hard. He notched the head at my entrance, his eyes locking with mine. The connection between us flared, bright and all-consuming. It wasn’t just sex; it was a reunion, a reaffirmation of a bond written in our very DNA. 

“Look at me.” He said, his voice strained. “I want to see you.” 

Then he pushed in. The feeling of him filling me, stretching me, was sublime. A low, guttural moan escaped us both. He buried himself to the hilt, pausing for a moment, his forehead resting against mine, our ragged breaths mingling. 

“You feel… like home.” He whispered, the raw emotion in his voice undoing me all over again. 

Then he began to move. His thrusts were deep, powerful, each one driving the breath from my lungs. The counter rocked slightly with the force of it. He held my hips, his grip firm, anchoring me as he set a relentless, pounding rhythm. Every slide in was a promise, every pull back was a torment. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, meeting him thrust for thrust. The sounds were obscene and beautiful- the slap of skin, our mingled moans, the creak of the old cabinets. He shifts his angel slightly, and on the next thrust, he hits a spot that made me scream. 

“There! Right there!” I chant. 

A feral grin touched his lips. He focused on the angle, pounding into me with a single-minded intensity that stole all coherent thoughts. The pressure built again, hotter, faster this time, a supernova gathering in my core. I could feel his control fraying, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. 

“Baby… I’m not gonna last…” 

“Don’t you date stop!” I panted, clinging to him. 

His mouth found mine in a searing kiss as his hand slipped between us, his thumb finding my clit again. Three more brutal thrusts and I shattered. My second orgasm was a deeper, more consuming wave, milking him, pulling him over the edge with me. With a roar that was pure wolf, he drove into me one last, deep time, his body shuddering as he spilled himself inside me. 

We collapsed against each other, a sweaty, trembling heap. He was still buried inside me, his head on my shoulder, his breath hot on my neck. The aftershocks rolled through us both. I could feel his heart hammering against my chest, a wild echo of my own. Slowly, he lifted his head. His eyes, dark and sated, searched my face. He brushed a damp strand of hair from my cheeks. 

“Still think the bike is more interesting?” I managed a weak laugh, my body humming with satisfaction. 

“I might need a more… thorough comparison.” A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. He was still inside me, still hard. He nuzzled my neck, his lips brushing my ear. 

“Whatever you need.”

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @princessjayll

[simplyonlyyours]

ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴋɪꜱꜱᴇꜱ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: jared cameron x fem!reader

summary: dealing with the stress of the upcoming newborn army battle has been stressful as jared's imprint, so naturally you relax with two healthy methods. baking and having a heat filled moment with your werewolf boyfriend.

warnings: not fully smut, fingering, slight mentions of hair pulling (it's gentle), possessiveness, fluffy nsfw

word count: 2,6k

During the past few days of worrying endlessly about the newborn army and the pack getting involved you’ve resulted in what you do best during the stress, well first would’ve been crying but tears didn’t feel appropriate, so you were baking. Jared, ever the sweet tooth loved this. It was his refresher during a time of tense patrols, pack arguments about the cullens, and long nights watching over Swan’s house.

So for him, sitting in his imprintee's house leaning against the counter watching you fumble pulling out flour, sugar, and cocoa powder from the pantry was a blessing. “Can I help?” his voice interrupting the quiet that was originally wrapped around you two. You smiled, weakly, but still smiled, “You can lick the bowl and do the dishes afterwards.”

“What? Do you think I’m useless?” He held a teasing smile faking an offended gasp, “Jare last time you ‘helped’ me bake you added a tablespoon of salt. A tablespoon!” your eyes brighten at the memory.

As you worked, the tight coil of anxiety in your chest began to slowly unwind. The kitchen was filled with the rich, sweet smell of chocolate, vanilla and something uniquely Jared. In this moment there was no army, no pack, no Cullens, only you, Jared and the promise of gooey chocolate normalcy.

You poured the thick, chocolatey batter into the greased pan smoothing it out with a spatula. A generous dollop remained in the bowl and out of pure uncomplicated, mischievous impulse you dipped your finger into the cool batter and reached up, smearing the mixture across Jared’s face.

He blinked, stunned, a slow drip of batter slid down towards his jaw. “Oh, it’s like that is it?” he asked, his voice a playful growl with a grin betraying his act. With lightning speed he dipped two long fingers into the same bowl. The sight made you squeal and move to duck behind the kitchen island.

The chase was brief and full of giggles, it ended with you being cornered against the fridge, Jared’s batter coated fingers hovering inches from your nose, he towered over you of course, being at least 6 feet tall. You were breathless looking up at him, inhaling his familiar clean that somehow mixed with the damp woods.

“Truce?” You pleaded, eyes sparkling. He considered it, his dark brown eyes softening. Then he slowly lowered his hands, choosing to lean in and kiss you. His lips were soft and gentle tasting faintly like sugar, the batter on his cheek transferred a little to yours the feeling rough and grainy unlike his touch. “Truce granted,” he murmured against your lips, “But only because you’re cute.”

You couldn’t help but smile into him, as he pulled away his eyes remained fixed on you, full of love and adoration. Jared’s fingers were still coated in that thick, chocolatey batter. Without a second thought you reached for his hand, your own movement driven by anything but logic, just pure emotion. You took his long fingers sucking the rich chocolate mixture clean from him. The taste simmered on your tongue; sugar, vanilla, chocolate and salt from his skin. You hummed in satisfaction, eyes closing briefly as lips wrapped around his fingers, cheeks slightly hallowed an innocent greedy pleasured look plastered on your face.

For Jared, the world stopped.

The simple, domestic scene shattered and transformed into something else entirely. The sight of you, so guileless, so focused on the taste, your warm mouth enveloping his skin, sent a jolt of pure, white-hot electricity through him. His breath hitched audibly, the playful light in his eyes vanished, replaced by a sudden intense darkness coated by hunger that had nothing to do with the batter. Your innocence wasn’t a barrier, it was gasoline on a fire that made the moment a thousand times more potent, more thrillingly forbidden.

You released his fingers with a pop, “All clean now,” you said, licking your lips. For a long second he didn’t move, his gaze locked on your mouth, his own lips slightly parted before clamping down. The air in the kitchen felt hot and charged the usual warmth that radiated off him felt ten times hotter under his intense gaze. When Jared finally spoke his voice was rougher, lower than before. “Yeah,” he managed “all clean.”

You swallowed thickly, taking in his tension, you looked up at him biting your bottom lip as your heart began to race under his gaze. The gaze that had now left your face and traveled down the line of your throat, over the exposed slope of your shoulder and a strap of the black laced bra you were wearing. It was as if he was absorbing the sight, slow and deeply, like memorizing a map. Then new tension hummed in the air beside you, a silent counterpart to the familiar hum of the fridge you were now cooly pressed against.

He reached out, fingers brushing away strays of hair from your face. The touch was feather light, yet still sent a shiver down your spine. “You have no idea what you do to me,” He breathed out your name at the end of his sentence. The meaning behind his words, the heat of his gaze dawned on you and in response you let out a shaky breath as a heat spawned down below your stomach.

“What do I do to you, Jare?” your voice quiet, the question hanging in the charged air between you two. He didn’t answer immediately but his hand was behind your neck now, fingers brushing through your hair, his eyes searched your face for any signs of discomfort. The raw unfiltered look in his eyes stole the air from your lungs.

“You make it hard to breathe,” he said, the words rough and honest. “You make my blood feel like it’s on fire. You make every instinct I have scream to get closer, to touch, to claim.” He let out a sharp breath, frustration evident in the sound. “And at the same time, you make me want to be so careful with you. To wrap you in cotton and put you on a shelf where nothing can ever hurt you.”

Your heart clenched at his words and you took a small step closer, your back leaving the cool of the fridge, “I’m not fragile.” you said, it held a secret meaning though. I’m not fragile enough for you to not take me right here and show me how much you want me. He let out a huff yet closed the distance between you two, “I know you’re not,” his voice then softened “but you are precious.” Your eyes held one another, a romantic thread that held so much sincerity and desire.

He saw the plea in your eyes, begging for him to do what he wanted, to claim you. His eyes darkened, the gold in them shifting to pure black. The careful gentle restraint broke and a low rough sound escaped him, part growl part surrendered.

In one fluid motion the hand behind your neck was cradling your face and the other rested on the curve of your waist, he breathed your name like a prayer and a warning, then his mouth was on yours.

It was nothing like the sweet brief kiss from earlier; it was pure, deep claiming hunger and devastatingly thorough. His tongue swept into your mouth tasting you, claiming the space as his. One hand slid from your cheek into your hair, gently tilting your head back to give him better access, while his other arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you flushed against him. You could feel every hard, tense line of his body, the proof of his own desperate desire pressed against your stomach.

You melted into him, a hand fisting in the fabric of his shirt, the other in his hair, holding onto him as the world dissolved into just the taste of him, the feel of him, then scent of him, and the overwhelming heat of him. There was only this. Only him and you together, the desperate consuming fire he’d spoken of, and your own willing surrender to it.

You poured every ounce of wanting into the kiss, the hand on his shirt slid up to his shoulders, and you began pulling him towards the couch. A warm liquid ache bloomed low in between your legs making the thin fabric of your black lace panties intensely present.

He followed you without hesitation, his mouth never leaving yours but his arms tighten at the scent that you were now producing, keeping you upright as you blindly guided each other out of the kitchen.

The back of your knees hit the edge of the L-shaped couch, you broke the kiss, gasping for air. Chest heaving, lips swollen, cheeks flushed, his midnight eyes took everything in with a ragged breath. “Are you sure?” His words were strained as if it cost him everything to ask. Jared’s hands were fists at his sides, trembling with the effort of holding them still, suddenly too scared to break you.

You took one of his hands and placed them at the hem of your own top, his fingers naturally hooked under the soft fabric. It was like an invitation, a promise. With a breathless whisper you finally said, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” That broke the last thread of his control.

His free hand came up to frame your face again. Thumbstroking your burning cheek with a reverence so sweet, “mine,” he whispered, the word a vow, truth, and claiming all of its own. His mouth was then on yours again, narrowing the world to the feel of his hands,lips, and his body pressing you down onto the softness of the couch.

He was a solid, welcome weight on top of you. His kisses left a trail of fire from your mouth to your jaw, moving painfully slow down to the sensitive column of your throat. You arched into him naturally like your body knew where it fit perfectly. A soft sound escaped you as one of his hands began a slow, deliberate journey down your body. Sliding down the curves of your breasts, moving down your hips. The thinness of the fabric you were wearing offered no barrier to the heat of his palm that now settled low below the waist, fingers splayed possessively.

He soon began to move his hand in slow, gentle circles, the pressure firm and sure. The friction of the fabric against the sensitive skin beneath, combined with the relentless, rhythmic movement of his hand sent glittering sparks through you. So pure and sweet yet so maddening in torment. He knew what you wanted but still you were separated by that final layer. Your hips lifted slightly of their own accord, seeking more pleasure and contact that was making you whiny.

His lips broke away from your neck to look down at you, his eyes black with desire and satisfaction seeing the marks he left on you. He positioned himself so he was more center in between your legs, his hard purposely against your thigh. “You feel that?” he murmured, his voice was a rough vibration against your skin, his circling fingers pressed a little harder and lower. “That’s all for you. All because of you.”

You could only nod with your eyes closed, your breath was coming in short small gasps. The warmth that had been spreading through you earlier was now a throbbing urgent need centered entirely where his hand moved. “Please Jare…” you whispered, the words a breathless plea.

Your own hand, trembling slightly, was moving down his arm, over the hard muscle of his forearm until your finger found his wrist gently guiding his teasing hand so it was moving past your waistband. He groaned as if it was torn from his soul as his fingers slipped beneath the elastic waistband of your thin bottoms finding the damped spot of your black lace panties. The touch of his bare skin against them was an electric shock for you. You gasped, back arching off the couch. His touch was no longer gentle circles through fabric; it was direct and intimate and hand your panties shoved aside.

The rough pad of his thumb found the exact center of your aching need, your moans made his forehead drop to rest against yours. His own needs now throbbing in his jeans. His breath was hot and ragged against the skin of your neck as his thumb and middle finger began to move again in deliberately slow strokes that made you see stars and clutch his shoulders. Nails digging into the fabric of his shirt anchoring yourself and sensation threatened to sweep you away at the feeling of his fingers inside you. The lack of a barrier made you cry out, his finger the perfect fit inside, it was an undeniable rightness.

He watched your face as he slowly, carefulling pressed another finger inside you, his own expression one of awestruck hunger. Your eyes were squeezed shut against the overwhelming tide of feeling yet your mind hadn’t forgotten about him or his wants. A hand slid down his muscled chest and your fingers fumbled for the button of his jeans. The movements were clumsy and desperate but the intention was clear and sharp. The sound of the zipper falling down seemed to tangle with your own moans, soon your hand pushed beneath the denim and the waistband of his boxers and found him. Hot, hard and velvety smooth against your palm. It tore a shuddering groan from his throat and made his fingers still.

Jared squeezed his eyes shut, his face a mask of gasping agonized pleasure. Your tentative stroke soon became a bold one guided by his ragged breaths and the way his hips jerkered against your hand. His fingers began moving again, the two of you participating in a dance that only required the hands of each other. The dual sensations, his fingers moving within you, your hands moving on him, created a feedback loop of pure desperate need.

His voice came out raw and broken, “Please don’t stop.” he whimpered, losing all his usual confident control. The sheer vulnerability in his voice shattered you. This was a soul-deep bond that both of you were going to seal as though at the same time. A tremor went through his entire body as your free hand cupped his cheek and tugged on his hair. He leaned lower so your lips were brushing against each other.

“Jared,” You moaned into his mouth forcing your eyes open, when his eyes met yours they were glossy, dark, and primal. He kissed you deeply and your hips began sliding up and down his thrusting fingers.

Every grunt and moan was a shared lullaby between you two, until you finally broke it with a final gasp, "I'm going to..” you couldn’t even finish your sentence but you didn’t need to, the tighter grip you held on Jared and his hard was enough for him to know what you meant.

“I know, just fuck- keep going I’m almost there.” He said in reply, his body was shaking above you as he was finding his own high. Soon, the sounds of the living room were filled with your screams of arrival and his own grunts and whimpers as he coated hand and wrist. He came down on top of you, his heat suddenly overwhelming now as you came down from high.

You two were breathless and sweaty but it was exactly what you needed.

He lifted himself so he was on his elbows, head directly above yours, “Can we have a round two in the shower?” Jared held a dazed smile as he looked down on you. You narrowed your eyes at him and laughed.

The moment ended with the two of you tangled in each other, playing with each other's hair, slowly and losing the fight of sleep.