#twilight la push

[bambieyedoll]

⋆·˚ ༘ * WOLFPACK HEADCANONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ — their type, physical and personality traits.

synopsis: the wolfpack boy’s type, including both physical and personality traits.

a/n: this is not 100% accurate and it’s not intended to be. i just wrote a general idea considering their personalities and traits. do not take this seriously.

pairing/s: paul lahote, jacob black, embry call, quil ateara, jared cameron, seth clearwater, sam uley, leah clearwater

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paul lahote

vibe: hotheaded and feral but down so bad for his girl.

physical type: intimidated by literally no one. he lowkey loves a short girl he can toss around, but bold girls? strong girls? a girl who looks like she knows exactly what she wants or can fight with words? he’s obsessed. he wants someone who walks into a room and knows her power.

personality type: sarcastic, bold, mouthy. he’s into the type who won’t put up with his temper, someone who throws it right back. he needs a girl with fire, but also someone who softens around him, just him. the contrast ruins him.

why: because paul’s spent most of his life feeling like a weapon. he wants to feel wanted, not feared. he needs someone who chooses him even when he’s rough around the edges.

“i don’t care if you yell at me. just don’t walk away. not you.”

jacob black

vibe: golden retriever energy meets his person.

physical type: loves girls with expressive eyes, soft features, and a warm smile. whether you’re tall or short, curvy or petite, it doesn’t matter, as long as you feel like home. he has a soft spot for messy hair and bare faces.

personality type: loyal, passionate, a little stubborn. he falls hard for the girl who challenges him, who doesn’t baby him, and who tells him to quit sulking and get back up. he’s attracted to warmth and playfulness, but also someone who can call him out when he’s too hung up on the past.

why: jacob has spent so much of his life trying to be enough for people who look the other way. so when someone sees him clearly, chooses him, and doesn’t just fall into his arms, he’s hooked.

“you’re the first person who looked at me like i wasn’t just the backup plan.”

embry call

vibe: golden boy, underrated sweetheart, shy wolf energy.

physical type: has a weakness for bright eyes and dimples, especially if you don’t even realize you have them. he notices the way your cheeks flush, the way your sleeves are too long, the way you smile when no one’s watching.

personality type: gentle, kind, emotionally intuitive, maybe a little quirky. he falls for the quiet strength, the girl who loves deeply but doesn’t need to be loud about it. bonus points if you’re a little nerdy or artsy.

why: because embry feels things deeply. he wants someone he can be soft with. he craves stability, gentlenes. he’d worship a soft-hearted girl like she hung the moon.

“you looked at me once and i haven’t been the same since.”

jared cameron

vibe: class clown with a flirty streak.

physical type: loves expressive girls. someone who talks with her hands, has dramatic eye rolls, or has a big laugh. he’s super into curves, but honestly? if you can pull off oversized hoodies and messy buns, he’s done for.

personality type: outgoing, witty, and someone who can keep up with his fast-paced brain. he’s drawn to confidence but secretly adores when you get shy and flustered because of him.

why: because jared thrives on connection and laughter. he wants someone who feels like sunshine in human form and who never lets life get too heavy.

“you’re my favorite person, i’d choose you every damn day.”

seth clearwater

vibe: cinnamon roll with a warrior’s heart.

physical type: seth has zero “type” physically. he’s all about the energy. but he blushes like hell over cute girls who smile at him. dimples, freckles, glasses? he’s toast.

personality type: kind, genuine, and hopeful. he falls for the girl who believes in people. someone who’s kind to animals and old people, who cries over movies and is passionate about weird little things.

why: because seth is the best of them all, honestly. he needs someone who reminds him of everything worth protecting.

“i didn’t know i could love someone this much until you laughed at my dumb joke.”

quil ateara

vibe: loyal to the core, a bit of a dork.

physical type: cuteness overload. he’s into girls who feel comfortable. comfy sweaters, cozy scents, soft hands. he doesn’t care about body type, he cares about how you feel when he hugs you.

personality type: bubbly, giggly, playful. quil falls for the “best friend” type. someone who teases him, shares inside jokes, isn’t afraid to get messy. he loves a playful girl who knows how to be serious when it counts. a little chaotic? sure. a little clingy? even better.

why: because he’s looking for his forever person, someone who can make a tuesday feel like magic just by being next to him.

“every good thing reminds me of you now. that’s how i know.”

sam uley

vibe: old-soul energy, loyal to a fault, carries silent guilt.

physical type: sam is drawn to subtle beauty, he notices things others overlook. the curve of your neck when your hair is tied up. the way your hands move when you’re focused. he’s not flashy or superficial; he’s mesmerized by grace.

personality type: calm, mature, deeply rooted. sam falls hard for the girl with quiet strength who speaks gently but never backs down when it counts. he needs someone who sees through the calm exterior to the storm underneath and stays anyway. bonus if she’s a little stubborn, it keeps him grounded.

why: because sam has spent years putting others first and protecting everyone else that he forgot what it feels like to be cared for without expectations. he needs someone who’s a safe place, a reminder that he’s allowed to be more than just “the alpha.”

“i can carry the world, but you make me want to come home.”

leah clearwater

vibe: sharp-tongued, battle-scarred, untouchable. until she’s not.

physical type: leah’s always pretending she doesn’t care. but deep down? she melts for girls who wear too much eyeliner or none at all, who wear rings on every finger. there’s something magnetic about someone who carries herself with pride.

personality type: she loves someone calm. steady. soft-spoken. a girl who isn’t afraid of her sharp edges but doesn’t try to fix her either. someone who listens. someone who stays.

why: because leah has lost too much. she wants someone who chooses her. not despite her pain, but because of how she survived it.

“i don’t need saving. i just… i want you to stay.”

[bambieyedoll]

⋆·˚ ༘ * SETH CLEARWATER HEADCANONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ

𐙚 best friends to lovers

you and seth have been best friends since elementary school.

it started because you sat next to him on the bus and shared your animal crackers with him when he forgot lunch. he never forgot that.

as kids, seth was your shadow.

always defending you from playground drama, showing up with extra juice boxes, and inviting you to every family bonfire, where you eventually became an honorary clearwater.

he always said you were “his person,” even when he was ten and didn’t fully know what that meant. you just smiled and agreed.

seth is your safe place.

you’ve always had a quiet comfort in each other’s presence. sleepovers where you fall asleep talking about the stars. sharing snacks on the porch. sending each other songs late at night with no context, just “this made me think of you.”

as you grow up, everyone assumes you’re dating.

you act like a couple; always sitting close, finishing each other’s sentences, playfully bickering but whenever someone points it out, you both deny it with a little too much force.

“what? me and seth?”

“pfft, yeah, right.”

you don’t meet each other’s eyes for the rest of the day.

seth adores you.

even before the imprint, he’s already half in love.

he memorizes the way your laugh sounds in different situations, how you bite your cheek when you’re nervous, the way you hum under your breath while reading.

he never lets you walk home alone, even before the supernatural part of his life begins. “i don’t care if it’s two blocks,” he says, “you’re not going by yourself.”

the moment before the imprint, he’s already protective but still sweet and goofy. he thinks nothing could change how natural things feel between you.

he doesn’t realize how much more intense it’s about to get.

when seth phases for the first time, everything changes, but he doesn’t tell you right away.

not because he doesn’t want to, but because he’s terrified of losing your friendship once you learn the truth.

it happens suddenly.

one second he’s mid-run in the woods on patrol, the next he smells you. not your usual scent, but stronger, laced with worry. he realizes you’re nearby. maybe lost. maybe in danger.

when he sees you, standing by the treeline looking for your phone signal, you turn around and look directly at him. his wolf instincts stutter, everything in the universe sharpens.

boom. the imprint slams into him.

the first thing he feels is clarity. like the whole world zoomed out and aligned around you. his wolf goes still. calm. like, there you are.

his first instinct is to run to you, shield you, because suddenly, keeping you safe feels more important than breathing.

but he doesn’t tell you.

he shifts back and hides behind the same warm smile he’s always used. because now it’s not just friendship, it’s sacred. it’s soul-deep. and he can’t risk scaring you off.

she’s mine, echoes in his mind, but not in a possessive way. it’s reverent.

he becomes a mess, internally. outside, he’s still your seth. joking, sweet, reliable. but inside? he’s buzzing.

every time you smile, his heartbeat stutters. every time you hug him, he thinks he might die.

he starts noticing everything.

like when you fake a smile or when your hands are cold. he sees the little things no one else does. and it kills him not to just pull you in and tell you that he’s yours.

the wolf instincts are overwhelming.

he can feel your emotions, especially when they’re strong. when you’re stressed or anxious, he paces, restless and wired. when you’re sad, he shows up at your door without a word and just stays until you smile again.

suddenly, he’s more protective.

when you’re hurt, even slightly, he panics. you trip on a rock? he’s already at your side, brushing dirt from your palms with shaking hands. “are you okay? are you sure?”

you start noticing little changes.

he holds eye contact longer. hugs you tighter. stares when you’re not looking. you catch him looking at your lips sometimes, only for him to blush and look away.

you brush it off because he’s seth. sweet, goofy, golden-hearted seth. your best friend.

you don’t want to ruin that either.

there’s a quiet ache in the air whenever you’re alone.

the kind where your hands almost touch but don’t. where you both laugh too hard, sit too close, and then pretend you’re not thinking about it.

there are moments when he almost tells you:

in his truck, after you fall asleep against his shoulder during a late-night drive.

when you patch up his bruised knuckles after a patrol gone wrong and your fingers linger on his skin.

after a beach bonfire, when the stars are bright, and you ask, half-joking, “do you think soulmates are real?”

each time, he bites it back. you’re not ready. he knows when you are, he’ll feel it.

sometimes you feel it too, even if you don’t understand it.

the magnetic pull toward him. the way your chest aches when you see him laugh with someone else. the safety you feel just from standing close to him.

you have dreams about him. dreams that feel like memories that haven’t happened yet.

in them, he’s always holding you. protecting you. loving you in a way that makes your whole soul feel seen.

one day, you’re injured. not badly, just a sprained ankle, and seth panics.

he carries you like you weigh nothing, his heart pounding like something’s wrong, even though you’re laughing through the pain.

“don’t do that,” he says, voice trembling. “don’t scare me like that again.”

you don’t understand why he’s so upset… but you can feel the depth of it in his voice. it feels like it’s coming from someplace deeper than friendship.

it finally spills out during a fight.

not a real one, just one of those heated moments where years of tension and silence catch fire.

maybe you nearly get hurt while hiking or walking home late. seth shows up furious, breathless, eyes wild.

“you can’t just disappear like that,” he snaps.

“seth, i was fine.”

“not to me. you’re not just—you don’t get it.”

and then the words tumble out. the imprint. the years of love. the way he’s been holding it all in because he didn’t want to risk losing you.

“i didn’t want to be selfish,” he says. “i didn’t want you to feel trapped. but every part of me belongs to you. it always has.”

you don’t say anything at first. you just look at him, really look at him. and suddenly everything clicks.

the way your heart always knew to run to him first. the dreams. the ache. the warmth. it’s him. it’s always been him.

the first time you kiss, it’s hesitant. gentle. like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. you press your forehead to his after and whisper, “you waited for me.”

he just smiles like he’s finally breathing after years underwater. “i’d wait a thousand years for you.”

the relationship is so gentle at first. seth treats you like something precious, even more than before like every moment is a gift he doesn’t deserve.

he never pushes. never rushes. the imprint gave him clarity, but he still wants every laugh, every date, every handhold to be a choice. your choice.

and god, he’s so in love with you.

he’s still your best friend, but now he holds your hand like he’ll never let go. hugs you longer. kisses you like he’s been dreaming about it for years. (and he has.)

he watches you like the sun rises just for you. he lights up every time you walk in the room. when he says “i love you” for the first time, it’s not dramatic. it’s quiet. like a truth he’s carried forever.

seth doesn’t love halfway.

his affection is pure and loud and full of joy. he looks at you like the world finally makes sense. like all the pain and loss he went through had to happen just to lead him to you.

the pack knew. of course they did. seth was the worst at hiding it.

he’s an absolute golden retriever boyfriend once you start dating. always grinning at you. always reaching for your hand. always bragging to the pack like he just won the lottery.

he kisses your forehead constantly. like… constantly. before leaving. while you’re talking. after you laugh. he’s obsessed with it.

when you can’t sleep, he shifts into his wolf form and curls at the foot of your bed like a massive golden-furred guardian.

the first time he does it, you whisper, “good boy,” and he lets out the softest, most embarrassed whine.

whenever you’re curled into his chest or falling asleep next to him, his wolf finally feels at peace. because you’re safe. you’re his. and you love him back.

[bambieyedoll]

⋆·˚ ༘ * LEAH CLEARWATER HEADCANONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ

𐙚 long-distance relationship reunion

the imprint hit leah like a punch to the chest the second she saw you.

you were visiting family on the rez. distant cousins, a temporary stay, something casual. but for leah? nothing was casual after that.

your laugh in the backyard. the way your eyes met hers like they already knew her. the way the earth just… snapped into place.

she didn’t say anything at first.

leah clearwater? saying she imprinted? yeah, right.

she was miserable about it for two straight weeks. moody, snappy, pacing the woods like a caged wolf because why now? why you? why someone she’d have to let go?

you were supposed to be in forks for a month. one month. but after meeting leah, leaving felt like being pulled away from oxygen.

she barely let herself show it, but the night before you left, she held your hand so tight her knuckles turned white.

long-distance was hell.

for someone as emotionally guarded as leah, being apart from her imprint wasn’t just sad, it was agony. but she wouldn’t let herself complain.

leah hated phones. hated texting. but with you? she learned. she’d just send quiet texts like:

“did you eat?”

“still raining here. i hate it.”

“i saw a girl today who had your hair. i got mad at her for no reason.”

she texted you good morning before patrol. she’d send pictures of her coffee, of the sky before she phased, of her muddy boots and bruised knuckles with a caption like: “today sucked. wish you were here.”

you called her once when you couldn’t sleep. she picked up on the second ring, voice rough and low, and whispered, “what’s wrong?”

she stayed on the phone with you for an hour. didn’t even talk much. just breathed with you. let you ramble about your dreams.

she fell asleep to your voice that night, ear pressed to the pillow like you were beside her.

leah kept your hoodie under her pillow. she never said it, but you knew because you’d catch glimpses of it in video calls, or the way she’d hesitate before falling asleep on the phone and mumble, “i can still smell you.”

her wolf misses you constantly. when she’s on patrol, she always ends up walking the edge of the cliffs where you first spoke.

the pack teases her about it, but they also leave her alone when her thoughts go quiet and still, you’re the only thing that calms her inner noise.

you send her photos of yourself. blurry selfies, little updates, your new haircut. she saves them all. set your face as her lockscreen. pretends she doesn’t smile like a dork every time it lights up.

sometimes, she’ll write you letters she never sends. things she wants to say in person. raw things.

“you make me want a future. that terrifies me.”

“you feel like home, and i’ve never had one before.”

jealousy? oh, she feels it. hard.

if someone flirts with you in your town? she’ll go silent for hours. then text something like: “do they know you’re mine?” only half-joking. only barely.

the rest of the pack starts noticing a change in her. less bitter. more grounded. still sharp, still fierce, but… softer when she’s texting you.

they know you’re her anchor.

“i hate being away from you,” she tells you one night over facetime, eyes tired, hair still damp from patrol. “but if distance is the price for being yours… i’ll take it. every time.”

when you finally come back to la push, it’s… overwhelming.

the day of your return, your whole body buzzed. it wasn’t nerves, it was need. you’d never felt more sure of anything in your life.

you wore the bracelet leah gave you the summer you met. the one she pretended she didn’t care about when she handed it over but stared at your wrist every time you wore it.

you landed in port angeles, grabbed your suitcase, and drove toward forks with your hands tight on the wheel, heart beating faster with every mile of moss-covered trees and gray sky.

the second you hit the la push border, your hands started trembling. it felt like crossing an invisible line between longing and belonging.

the rain had stopped over an hour ago, but leah was still there. standing just beyond the curve of the tree line, half-sheltered by thick evergreens and the heavy, gray sky. her arms were locked across her chest, knuckles white where they pressed into her sides, jaw clenched so tight she could hear her own teeth grind. she hadn’t moved in what felt like hours.

her body ached. not from standing still, but from waiting.

she didn’t pace. leah never paced.

she endured.

silently. stubbornly. like if she stood there long enough, if she refused to break, refused to look weak, maybe the universe would finally give her a sliver of mercy. just this once. maybe she wouldn’t have to keep losing.

your text had said you’d be arriving in forks around 3 p.m. it was 3:48 now. but leah didn’t call. she didn’t text again. she didn’t ask if your plane landed or if your car made it through the slick forest roads. that would mean acknowledging how desperate she was, how close she was to coming undone.

but her wolf knew. it had known every second since you left.

the wolf had clawed and howled in her chest, restless and grieving. no matter how strong she tried to be, no matter how tightly she buried it, the part of her that wasn’t entirely human was starving for you. where is she? it would growl when the nights got too quiet. why did she leave us? why isn’t she here?

and leah had no answer for it. only silence. only pain.

she hadn’t told anyone you were coming. not seth, not sue, not the pack. especially not jacob. if he knew, he’d have been waiting with her, taunting, smirking, waiting for her to crack. “you’re gonna lose it when you see her. i bet you cry,” he would’ve said.

as if she hadn’t already cried. as if she hadn’t laid awake with your hoodie clutched to her chest, breathing in the last trace of your scent like it was oxygen. as if she hadn’t shifted into her wolf form just to be able to run and howl and mourn for you in the trees without anyone watching her fall apart.

god, she hated this.

hated being the girl who couldn’t function without someone else. hated how raw and feral she felt without you. how every night she didn’t hear your voice made her skin itch and her chest cave in like her bones were made of ash.

but then,

a low engine hum broke through the stillness. the sound of tires crunching wet gravel curled around the bend in the road. her head snapped up.

a rusted old car appeared. familiar. too familiar. her heart stuttered. her pulse roared.

her feet stayed frozen.

don’t hope yet, she told herself. don’t let it be her. you’ll break if it’s not.

the car pulled closer. slowed.

stopped.

the driver’s door opened.

and there you were.

you stepped out slowly, eyes scanning the trees, breath visible in the cold air. your hair was longer than when she last saw you. you looked tired. real. fragile in the same way sunlight is when it filters through a storm cloud, like she could touch you, but you’d dissolve if she looked too long.

leah’s knees buckled, just slightly.

“leah?” you called softly, searching.

she broke.

not slowly. not gracefully.

violently.

her feet were moving before her mind gave them permission. the second she saw you, really saw you, every ounce of restraint she’d buried for months shattered. her wolf surged to the surface, roaring to run, to touch, to claim. her hands trembled as they clenched and unclenched at her sides, and her chest burned like fire was eating her from the inside out.

your scent hit her like a wave.

home. you smell like home.

she didn’t remember crossing the distance. one second she was behind the trees, and the next her arms were wrapped around you, pulling you in with the kind of force that spoke of months of agony. her hands gripped the back of your jacket so tight she might tear it. her breath hitched, then caught in her throat as she buried her face in your shoulder.

you were here. you were here.

warm. breathing. solid in her arms.

your hands curled into her jacket, like you never wanted to let go either.

“i missed you,” you whispered against her neck.

leah’s body sank.

it was like something inside her finally let go. she inhaled sharply, deep, ragged, and exhaled with a sound that wasn’t quite a sob, but wasn’t far from it.

“you’re here,” she said. her voice was broken glass. “you’re actually—fuck, you’re here.”

you pulled back slightly to look at her, and it wrecked her. your eyes were glassy, lips trembling. and the way you were looking at her, like she was something holy, something worth loving, brought every last bit of her armor crumbling down.

“i hated it,” she choked. “being away from you. i tried so hard to pretend i was fine. told the guys it didn’t matter, told seth i didn’t care. i lied so much, i almost believed it.”

you reached up and cradled her face like it was the most natural thing in the world, thumbs brushing over her sharp cheekbones.

“i never believed it,” you whispered. “not for a second.”

leah let out a sound that was almost a laugh but it caught in her throat halfway. she leaned into your palms, eyes fluttering closed. her lips brushed yours first, soft, cautious, trembling, then again, deeper this time.

it wasn’t rushed. it wasn’t perfect.

it was needed.

it was the kiss of someone who had been starving for too long.

when you finally pulled away, leah stayed close. her forehead rested against yours, her hands shaking where they gripped your hips.

“don’t leave me again,” she said. not a demand. a plea. a wound. “i can’t—i swear to god, i’ll lose it.”

“i’m not going anywhere,” you breathed. “not unless you’re with me.”

she blinked at you, stunned. as if the idea hadn’t occurred to her, that she could go with you. that she didn’t have to keep saying goodbye. that she didn’t have to live with her soul clawing inside her every time you were more than a mile away.

“you’d really…?” she asked. her voice cracked on the question.

“i want you,” you said simply. “wherever we are. whatever we do. as long as you’re there.”

leah let out a sharp breath. and then her arms were around you again, tighter this time, face buried in your neck.

“i thought i was strong enough to do this without you,” she murmured. “but i’m not. i’m not. you’re it for me.”

you held her just as tightly.

and she swore she could feel it. her wolf settling, at long last. the screaming in her blood quieted. the ache that had lived in her chest for seven months faded into something warmer. something peaceful.

she didn’t know where the world would take you both next. but you were here. and this time, she wouldn’t let go.

not again.

[bambieyedoll]

⋆·˚ ༘ * EMBRY CALL HEADCANONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ

𐙚 embry with chronic pain imprint

embry imprinted on you on a day you could barely move.

you were curled up in the back of the library, hidden between the nonfiction shelves, face tucked into your knees because your meds hadn’t kicked in and the pain was too loud to ignore.

you were trying so hard to be quiet. then someone crouched in front of you, the scent of pine and warmth filling your senses.

and when you looked up, his eyes were already broken for you.

his first instinct was to touch, to comfort, but the second he saw your expression, he stopped cold.

“can i…?” he whispered, voice low, heart in his throat.

you nodded, barely, and he knelt beside you for hours, not even asking your name. just being there.

you didn’t know what imprinting meant at first, but embry explained it gently, without pressure.

“it doesn’t mean you owe me anything,” he promised. “it just means i’m always gonna be here, if you want me to be.”

and somehow… that meant everything. no expectations. just him.

embry is the kind of person who learns your body language better than anyone.

the way your eyebrows knit when a wave of pain starts building. the tremble in your fingers when it’s a bad day. the tightness around your mouth when you’re trying to push through it.

he notices it all, and never makes you say it out loud.

he’s a gentle giant when it comes to your pain.

always warm hands on your back, a strong arm around you, carrying you when you can’t walk another step, whispering,

“i’ve got you. just lean on me, sweetheart.”

he stockpiles your medications like a soldier preparing for battle.

always making sure you’re not running low, double-checking expiration dates, calling pharmacies if there’s an issue.

he’ll stay on hold for hours if it means getting your refill in time.

you once woke up from a pain nap to find him curled on the couch with your insurance card in one hand and his phone on speaker. “yeah, hi—sorry, just wanna make sure her prescription gets covered. she needs it.”

on nights where the pain makes you sob uncontrollably, clutching blankets, biting your lip raw, rocking to find some kind of peace, embry never flinches.

he’ll pull you into his lap, wrap his arms around your body, and just hold you.

“you’re not alone. you’re not weak. i’m here. i’m right here, baby.”

he says it like a mantra, over and over, heart breaking every time you cry harder into his chest.

and when the pain finally starts to dull, whether from meds or sheer exhaustion, he presses soft kisses to your hairline.

“there you go. that’s it. just breathe. you made it through. i’m proud of you.”

embry learns your pain scales like second nature. he knows what a “6” looks like in your eyes, what a “9” sounds like in your voice, and when it’s a “10” but you’re still pretending it’s fine.

“baby,” he’ll murmur, crouching beside you. “please, don’t hide it from me. you don’t have to do this alone. let me carry it with you.”

he never sees you as a burden. not once.

you tried to pull away once, whispering through tears that he deserved someone without this much pain, someone “normal.”

he nearly shattered.

“yoy are not a burden,” he said, voice hoarse. “you’re mine. you’re everything. if you hurt, i hurt. and i’ll stay, every single day. no matter what.”

you once overheard him praying to the moon. not asking for your pain to go away, but just asking for the strength to carry you through it.

“let me be enough for her. let me help. let her feel peace, even if just for one night.”

sometimes, when the pain becomes too much to bear and you collapse into tears, embarrassed, he pulls you close and tells you:

“cry. scream. cuss the universe out if you need to. you’re allowed to be mad. you’re allowed to hate this. but you’re never allowed to believe you’re weak. baby, you’re the strongest person i’ve ever met.”

he gets into little rituals with you:

heating pads always warm and ready.

your favorite playlist queued up to help distract you through pain flares.

cuddling under weighted blankets with his arms around you, his chest a solid heartbeat against your back.

bringing you water, snacks, meds, tea, soft fuzzy socks. everything before you even ask.

and he brings little joys into your life when everything feels dark.

tiny flowers pressed into your journal pages.

handwritten sticky notes with dumb wolf jokes or puns like: “howl you doing today, beautiful?” and he draws a tiny wolf howling under the moon next to it.

polaroids of the sunrise or your smile when you weren’t looking.

when you’re feeling okay, he still treats you like you’re made of stardust.

lifting you into his arms like you weigh nothing, spinning you around with a goofy grin, peppering your face in kisses.

“look at you, beautiful. sunshine incarnate. still the strongest person i know.”

the pack adores you, but they learn quickly not to overwhelm you.

embry makes sure they understand your limits, your space, your needs. they become fiercely protective in their own way, but embry is your guardian wolf. always has been.

sometimes, when you cry just from sheer exhaustion, from the grind of living like this every day, embry will lie down beside you and cry too.

not because he’s weak. but because he feels it all. and he refuses to let you cry alone.

you once asked him, in a broken whisper, “are you sure you still want this?”

and he looked at you like the question shattered him.

“i didn’t choose to imprint on you,” he said. “but if i could choose? i’d choose you. every. damn. time.”

on especially hard days, embry uses his wolf heat to help you.

he presses his body against yours, radiating warmth that eases your muscles better than any heating pad ever could. he’ll let you drape across him like a heating blanket come to life, whispering,

“see? built for this. built for you.”

[bambieyedoll]

HOLD ME, CONSOLE ME .・。.・゜✫・゜・。.

summary: when a beautiful day at the beach takes a terrifying turn, embry’s only focus is keeping you safe. caught between panic and desperation, he shows just how fiercely, and tenderly, he loves you.

pairing: embry call x fem!reader

word count: 1,4k

warnings/notes: mentions of an asthma attack, angst followed by fluff, comfort writing, short one shot, embry being super sweet and supportive.

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the sun hung low over la push, a bright, burning disk in a cloudless sky, bleeding gold and orange into the horizon. the air was heavy, almost syrupy, and clung stubbornly to every inch of your skin, trapping the heat against you no matter how many times the ocean breeze kissed your face.

the beach was alive with laughter and shouting, the pack roughhousing and teasing one another near the bonfire pit. you sat on a worn, sun-bleached towel just beyond the ruckus, your legs stretched out in front of you, your arms braced behind you in the warm sand. you smiled as you watched paul and jared wrestle nearby, kicking up a storm of sand, their shouts of mock outrage echoing over the surf.

embry’s arm was slung lazily around your shoulders, his bare skin burning warm against yours. his hand draped loosely along your arm, fingers drawing absentminded circles against your heated skin, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. but you knew better, embry always needed to be touching you, even if it was the smallest brush of fingers. like he needed to constantly reassure himself you were here, real, his.

you leaned into him, savoring the familiar weight of him against your side, the low rumble of his voice as he laughed at something seth shouted across the fire. everything should have been perfect. it was perfect. the kind of easy, golden afternoon you wanted to bottle up and keep forever.

but under your skin, a quiet warning buzzed.

the thick, sticky air pressed harder into your chest with every breath. you shifted uncomfortably, brushing your damp hair off your forehead, trying not to let it show. but the small, shallow gasps of air weren’t cutting it. a tight, invisible band had started wrapping itself around your ribs, squeezing slowly, mercilessly.

you smiled up at embry anyway, stubbornly. you didn’t want to ruin today. you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself, not when everyone was laughing, not when embry looked so happy.

“you okay?” embry murmured low against your hair, his voice dipping into something quieter, more serious. he must’ve felt the slight tension in your body, the way you leaned away from him just slightly, struggling to find space to breathe.

you nodded a little too quickly. “just… hot,” you said, waving your hand vaguely at the sun overhead, pretending to be casual.

but embry’s eyes narrowed, his instincts sharper than anyone else’s when it came to you. his thumb paused against your arm. his whole body stilled.

then, when you tried to draw in another breath, and hit that invisible wall inside your chest, panic flared in your belly. you tried again, forcing air through the tightening in your throat, but your lungs gave a desperate, whimpering wheeze.

your hands trembled uselessly at your sides.

“baby?” embry said sharply, already half rising. his voice cut through the pack’s chatter like a knife. you managed to meet his eyes. dark, frantic, already reading you like a book, and that was all it took. embry was moving before you could even get a word out.

“hey! shut up a sec!” he barked at the others, his voice carrying over the sand. immediately the noise died down, every head snapping toward the two of you, the easy smiles fading as they caught sight of your pale, stricken face.

embry dropped to his knees in front of you, shielding you with his body, his hands hovering helplessly in the air like he wasn’t sure where to touch first. his hands were shaking. embry call, solid, unshakable, reckless embry, was shaking.

“sweetheart, look at me,” he said firmly, voice low and trembling with restrained panic. “you’re okay. you’re just having an asthma attack. you’re okay. i got you.”

you tried to nod but it was pathetic, just a jerky little twitch of your head, and a tear slipped from the corner of your eye. you hated this. hated how helpless it made you feel.

your chest spasmed again, and the sound that ripped from your throat, a thin, gasping cough, made embry flinch like he’d been stabbed.

“where’s your inhaler?” he demanded urgently, already snatching up your bag with shaking hands and tearing through it.

you tried to point weakly, but embry was faster, ripping through your things like a man possessed until his fingers closed around the familiar plastic inhaler. relief flashed across his face, but it was fleeting. he was all business now, focused entirely on you.

“okay, baby, here,” he murmured, bringing the inhaler to your trembling lips with heartbreaking gentleness. his other hand cradled the back of your head, supporting you like he thought you might shatter. “breathe out first… that’s it. now a puff, good girl. slow. just little breaths.”

you tried. you tried so hard. you pushed the little air you had left out of your burning lungs, then closed your lips around the mouthpiece as he pressed down.

the first puff rushed into your mouth, cool and sharp, but it barely made a dent in the panic clawing at your ribs.

your body jerked with another violent cough, and embry caught you, hauling you carefully against his chest, supporting your entire weight like it cost him nothing. he crouched there in the sand with you half in his lap, murmuring low, soothing things against your temple.

“you’re doing so good, sweetheart. i’m right here. just breathe for me.” he whispered over and over, like a prayer. “i got you. i’m not letting go.”

another puff. another shaky, shallow inhale.

slowly, so slowly, the tight band around your lungs loosened. a tiny, rattling breath slipped in. then another. still shallow. still raw. but enough.

embry held you the whole time, never moving, never letting your body slump or your head droop without catching you. his touch was everywhere. a hand stroking your back, his breath against your hair, his thumb brushing tears off your cheeks.

the world beyond him. the beach, the pack, the bonfire, faded into background noise. there was only embry. only the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek and the low, frantic whisper of his voice:

“you’re safe. i promise. you’re safe.”

when you could finally, finally draw a breath without gasping, embry eased the inhaler from your hands, setting it carefully in the sand beside him, never breaking contact for a second.

you clung to him, exhausted, feeling the aftershocks of the attack rattle through your limbs.

embry kissed the side of your head, rocking you gently. “you scared the hell outta me,” he breathed. his voice cracked around the words, raw with everything he was too scared to say. “but you’re so strong, sweetheart. so damn strong.”

you blinked up at him, your body still trembling from the aftershocks, and managed a hoarse whisper: “i’m sorry.”

embry’s face twisted like the words physically hurt him. he cupped your face between his big, calloused hands and leaned in so close you could feel the brush of his breath against your lips.

“don’t you ever apologize for this,” he said. his brown eyes fierce and shining. “you hear me? none of this was your fault. you’re perfect.”

the tears finally spilled over, and embry caught them too, brushing them away like they were precious things. he kissed your forehead, your temple, the corners of your eyes. frantic, desperate kisses like he couldn’t quite believe you were still here to kiss at all.

“you just rest now, baby,” he whispered, rocking you slightly against his chest. his hands never stopped moving, one smoothing up and down your back, the other curling protectively around your waist. “i’m gonna take care of you. i swear it. you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

and you believed him.

you let yourself sink into the safe, solid warmth of him, breathing in the scent of salt and embry and home, letting your body relax against his strong frame. you felt him murmur something else against your hair, so soft you almost missed it.

“i love you. god, i love you so much.”

maybe you were too weak to answer. maybe you didn’t need to. because embry held you like he already knew.

and for the rest of the night, long after the others drifted back to their cars and the bonfire burned low, embry didn’t let you go. not once.