huge size kink with jacob and it shows. bella seeing jake w/ his imprint and his hand cups the back of her head easily
anon baby!!! you read my whole mind !!
──── ꒲ nsfw size kink drabble w jacob . . . ❜ ﹗
his hand’s at the back of your head again, fingers spread wide, cradling you like you’re something breakable—but his hips are anything but gentle.
he’s massive—every part of him. his hand alone spans the whole base of your skull, thumb brushing your jaw, pinky near your spine, like your head fits in his palm by design.
you’re already shaking.
already breathless from how deep he is.
and still, he pushes in slow, like he’s trying to savor the way you stretch around him, split open on something way too big to take all at once—but god, you do.
❝fuck, baby, look at you,❞ he groans, voice thick with awe, palm firm behind your head like a brace. ❝taking all of it. taking me.❞
and it’s true—jacob’s dick is huge, impossibly thick, the kind that makes your breath hitch just from the weight of it, the kind that makes you feel him for days. he fills every inch, presses against every spot like he was built just for you.
you cling to him, thighs trembling, nails biting into his shoulder as his hips grind up again—slow, deep, devastating.
somewhere nearby, someone shifts—a tent flap, maybe, or a twig cracking underfoot—and jacob grins, doesn’t even stop.
just cups your head tighter, shields you with his body, and says loud enough for anyone passing by,
❝she’s mine. this perfect little pussy, these sounds, every inch of her—mine.❞
and when your back arches, when your body clenches down tight around him, he laughs—low, smug, breathless.
❝yeah? that feel good, sweet thing? no one fucks you like I do. no one fills you like this.❞
you can’t even speak. can’t think. all you can do is hold onto him while he fucks you slow and deep, one hand on your hip, the other cradling your head like you’re precious even while he ruins you.
and then, soft—so soft, just for you, lips brushing your temple—
the moment jacob imprinted on you, it hit him like a collision.
one second he was walking through the woods. the next, your laugh cracked through the trees and he froze. the world tunneled. everything else faded.
and you, you, suddenly became the center of his universe.
for days after, he couldn’t stop staring at you.
not in a creepy way, but in the i-don’t-know-how-i-ever-lived-without-you kind of way. the pack teased him mercilessly for it.
“jake, dude. seriously, you’re smiling at your phone like she’s gonna text by telepathy.”
“shut up, paul.”
jacob was terrified to tell you about the imprint at first. not because he didn’t want it. god, he wanted you. but because he didn’t want you to feel pressured.
“you’ve got a choice,” he said, quietly, eyes locked on yours. “even if the universe picked you for me… you still get to pick me, too.”
when you finally admitted you felt it too. that inexplicable pull, that comfort in his presence, the way his arms felt more like home than your own bed, he physically exhaled in relief. then pulled you into the tightest hug you’d ever felt.
jacob is fiercely protective of you. not possessive, but primal. the moment anyone makes you uncomfortable, he’s beside you in a blink, tall and broad and unreadable.
“everything okay?”
just those two words. calm, low, and absolutely threatening.
his wolf instincts are always on when it comes to you. you could be across the field at a bonfire, talking to someone else, and he still notices the way your shoulders tense or your fingers fidget.
he’s always watching, always tuned in to your energy.
you calm his wolf better than anything else. when he phases back after a bad patrol, he finds you. buries his face in your neck. breathes you in.
“you keep me human,” he whispers once. “don’t even know if you realize it.”
physical affection is nonstop.
jacob is a furnace and he’s always wrapping around you. laying his head in your lap, pulling you into his hoodie, holding your hand under the table like he needs the anchor.
and when you’re not around, he wears your scent like armor.
the first time you get sick or hurt? jacob panics.
he’s at your side in seconds, flustered, pacing, asking if you need anything, until you tug on his shirt and say, “just stay.”
so he does. he stays until you fall asleep. and then longer.
imprint fights hit differently.
not because you argue often, but because when you do, it hurts. like a soul-level tear. he can feel your pain, and it drives him mad.
he’ll give you space if you ask, but he paces, restless, desperate to fix it.
“i hate when we’re like this. i can’t… breathe right without you.”
the bond gives jacob this uncanny ability to know what you need before you do.
he shows up with your favorite snacks after a long day. hands you his hoodie when you’re just starting to feel cold. pulls you into his chest the second your anxiety spikes, even if you haven’t said a word.
he’s so gentle with you. for someone who’s built of muscle and heat and power, he holds you like you’re made of light.
jacob kisses your temple like a promise. runs his thumb along your jaw when you’re tired, like he’s reminding himself you’re real.
sometimes you wake up and find him staring at you, eyes warm, voice still raspy from sleep:
“how’d i get so lucky?”
and when you say you love him. genuinely, freely, not because of the imprint but because you chose him, he breaks. full-body stillness, eyes wet, voice cracking.
“you mean that? you really… love me? because, god, i’ve loved you for so long, i don’t know how to be without you anymore.”
jacob black is so touchy once you’re together.
he always has a hand on you, wrapped around your waist, fingers laced with yours, a casual arm draped over your shoulders, even when you’re just standing in line somewhere.
it’s instinctive. protective. warm. grounding.
he calls you “babe” most of the time, but sometimes, when he’s sleepy or worried, he murmurs “sweetheart” under his breath like he doesn’t even realize it’s slipped out.
he builds you things. shelves, little wooden carvings, a custom seat for the back of his bike. he never says it outright, but he wants to leave his mark in your space. proof that he’s there, and not going anywhere.
you always know when something’s wrong because jacob shuts down. his jaw clenches. he gets quiet. he’ll go on a run to clear his head, but when he comes back, he always wraps you in the tightest hug, like he needs to feel you breathe just to calm down.
you once told him, half-jokingly, that you liked wolves. now he brings you random little wolf trinkets and says things like “thought you’d want something that looked like me,” with a cocky smirk and that damn dimple.
the first time he got really hurt on patrol, he tried to hide it. didn’t want you to worry. you found out anyway and lost it on him, tears in your eyes. he was stunned into silence.
the next day, he showed up with a small first-aid kit and asked if you could keep it “just in case.” he never hides injuries again.
jealous jacob is very real.
even if someone just looks at you the wrong way, his entire body tenses. you’ll grab his hand and squeeze it to ground him, whispering, “you’ve got nothing to worry about, jake.” he just kisses your knuckles and glares at the guy over your shoulder anyway.
the pack knows not to make any comments about you around him.
once, paul made a teasing joke, and jacob had him pinned to a tree in seconds. “say something like that again, and i’ll send you to the fucking hospital.”
he loves when you sit in his lap. like… loves it.
especially when you’re both hanging with the pack and you settle there without thinking. he gets all smug and wraps his arms around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
he’s surprisingly insecure at times. not because of you, but because he worries he’s too much. too intense, too broken, too wrapped up in the world he didn’t choose.
you always make him look at you when he spirals, pressing your hand to his chest and saying, “you’re more than enough. and you’re mine.”
jacob leaves your favorite snacks in your bag or car when he knows he’ll be gone for patrol. they’re always labeled in sharpie:
“for my girl. don’t forget to eat.”
“miss you already :(.”
“my pretty girl, i love you.”
jacob is so softly obsessed with you. the way you talk with your hands. how you hum while brushing your teeth. the little crease in your brow when you read. he memorizes it all.
sometimes, when you’re sleeping, he stays up just watching you. he brushes your hair back, traces the curve of your cheek with his finger, and whispers, “you don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”
when you say “i love you” out of nowhere, he melts. no matter how many times you say it, it still stuns him.
Can you do one where Paul and Jacob imprint on an innocent reader. Paul is more dominant than Jacob. Jacob is more of a soft dom. If that makes sense. After words, both take care of the reader who smiles lazily at them.
yes ❤️ sorry for the absence guys I’m currently on vacay hope you enjoy :)
neon guts - paul lahote and jacob black x reader
It had never happened before.
Two wolves imprinting on the same girl.
It was confusing but not unsettling as both Jacob and Paul feel their wolves humming in satisfaction of imprinting on you.
You were the center for both wolves, grounding the soon to be alpha and the hot headed third in command.
The first time you saw them both together, it felt like standing too close to the edge of something wild and unknowable.
You didn’t expect the excitement to lurch in your stomach that would debut every time you saw them.
The kind woman Emily, the imprint of the current alpha, Sam Uley, kept you around. Inviting you over to help her cook, inviting you over for girl talk, and finally the bonfire.
Laughter crackled in the dark, boys with impossible bodies and eyes filled with solemn, and stories told by ancient mouths that felt like warnings rather than entertainment.
Paul Lahote and Jacob Black arrived side by side, but you picked up the difference in their energies.
Jacob’s presence was warm and comforting, like the sun bleeding through storm clouds. Paul’s presence was thunder, sharp, crackling and dangerous.
Paul barely looked at anyone as he walked but his eyes eventually landed on you with a force of a tidal wave. Jacob trailed slightly behind, his gaze following Paul’s before meeting yours as well.
They were everywhere now.
It was subtle at first.
At first, you didn’t understand why they acted like you belonged to them. You weren’t used to this kind of attention because you were shy but this kind of attention was different.
It was the way Paul would hover too close. It was the way Jacob would brush past you when he had to walk pass.
You found yourself drawn to the two personalities.
Paul was magnetic. Everything about him made your pulse race. His voice, the sharp glint in his eye, the way he made you nervous and feel like prey.
Jacob was warmth. Safety. He listened. Gave you space but not too much. His hands were always gentle, even when he was visibly holding back something primal underneath his skin.
Hands in your pockets, you thought nothing of it when you walked back to your place. After spending time with Emily helping her volunteer at the tribal center, you just wanted to relax at home.
You froze in your tracks once you saw a shirtless Paul near your front door with his fists clenched. Jacob only stood near, arms crossed with his jaw tight.
Jacob’s eyes snapped to yours as he perked up at the sight of you, “Y/N.”
Paul immediately stopped his pacing before he went right towards you.
“Where the hell were you?” Paul asked with his voice low, “Not even answering the phone and we’re blowing you up.”
You pat your phone in your pocket, “It died.”
“You didn’t bring a charger so you could charge it? What if something happened?” Jacob asked but his voice wasn’t as rough as Paul’s.
“Nothing was going to happen. I was only with Emily.” You say to Jacob.
“Yeah, well, you didn’t tell me.” Paul interjected.
Jacob immediately stepped in, putting an hand on your arm, “Back off, Paul.”
Paul smacked Jacob’s hand off of your arm, “Don’t start with me Jacob.”
“She’s not your property.” Jacob scowled.
“She’s not yours either.”
Their eyes glared at each other as heat was rising between them like a storm about to snap. You felt too small, too soft, too human.
“Stop it.” You whispered.
Jacob looked down with his shoulders trembling, keeping control.
Paul exhaled sharply.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. Either of you.” You swallowed.
“You didn’t, honey. It’s just,” Jacob sighed a bit, softening his features, “It’s us. Were..We’re not used to this.”
“To what?” You ask.
“To sharing.” Paul clarified with his eyes darkened.
“It’s alright. But, I’m safe. Really.” You reassure as you unlock your door with your key.
You felt heat beat your back as you entered your home, knowing that they followed you in.
Jacob flopped down on the couch completely and Paul followed as he tugged your arm a bit.
You were sandwiched in between them.
“You can’t worry us like that, Y/N. We didn’t know what to think.” Paul spoke, his voice a bit softer than earlier but he caressed the side of your face.
The burst of energy erupted from that touch. It was unerringly soft.
“I’m sorry. Emily was with me. I’m surprised Sam didn’t tell you.” You replied coyly.
“He was too busy pacing outside of your door.” Jacob says as he rolled his eyes a bit, pointing his thumb at Paul.
You break a smile before you and Jacob share a chuckle. The eye contact was prolonged and you saw Jacob’s relaxed state, his worry melting away.
Then, you felt your head be turned in the opposite direction to face Paul. His look on his face was purely focused.
Having a large hand cup your face, he pulled your face to him as you share a lingering kiss.
It spun your brain, it made you forget that you were in your living room. A breathy sigh made your mouth crack open and he slipped his warm tongue in.
It was surprising as you never kissed him or anyone this intensely.
You exhaled as soon as you both pulled away.
“Did you forget she has to breathe?” Jacob asked sarcastically.
Paul licked his lips a bit as he watched you regain your breath before he snapped his eyes to Jacob.
“It’s a kiss. She’ll live.” Paul spoke in a raspy voice.
Jacob slightly shook his head before you kiss him too, so he wouldn’t feel left out. Jacob cupped your jaw as the kiss lasted longer than Paul’s. It was sweet but he still had control. A soft sigh escaped from you when the brush of his tongue licked your bottom lip.
Paul turned your face back to him, breaking your kiss with Jacob. With you being so delirious, you didn’t care. You fell into his rhythm of a kiss.
It was hungry, dominating, and purely passionate. Your hand ended up snaking up his neck into his soft bed of hair and fisting it to anchor yourself. A low groan from him erupted into your mouth and it shot to inside of your pants.
You were panting embarrassingly loud but at that moment neither of you didn’t care.
It was suprising to you when you felt Jacob shift your upper body to have your back laid against him on the couch.
You saw his face peer over you before he planted a kiss on your lips. It was your first time kissing him or anyone in this position.
Paul had no problem undoing your pants since your legs rested at his waist. Your hands fly to his hands that didn’t dare to pause. Your lips were too busy being occupied, so a muffled noise was made.
“It’s been so long…All day I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I need this.” Paul roughly spoke as he brushed your hands away and tugged your pants from your legs.
Your body twitches as bit as you felt Jacob’s rough but soft hands run up your stomach before lifting your shirt, exposing the stiff nipples on your chest.
A soft groan was made from your mouth as you felt Jacob’s hands caress and squeeze your tissue.
You couldn’t help but bring one hand to rest on his forearm.
“Do you feel good?” Jacob whispered.
“Yes.” You whispered back but you couldn’t say anymore because Paul’s thick finger rubbed against your underwear covered center.
The feeling of Jacob messaging your chest and Paul messaging your center, made your brain turn into pure mush as your eyes closed as you felt the overwhelming sensation.
Your eyes popped open from hearing a tear, only to see Paul with your shredded underwear in his large hand.
You were exposed as his eyes lit up like he ripped open a gift.
“Lift her.” Paul demanded.
Jacob had you lifted with his large hands under your arms, your back glued to his chest.
Paul went to his knees, putting your legs on his shoulders and ate at his your center.
You mewed out, the sensation overtaking your entire body as you were in disbelief that he could make you feel so good but, you expected nothing less.
The tingles coiled inside of your stomach as you felt like you couldn’t move anything but your hands that tangled in his hair.
“I have to pee!” You moan out as your breath turned rapid.
They both hummed out a chuckle.
“You don’t . You just feel really..Good.” Jacob gently reassured.
You heard another rip. This time it didn’t come from Paul, it came from Jacob. Fully bare and exposed, his warm lips assaulted your neck as the back of your head rested back against him. His large calloused hands, especially his fingers, traced your nipples.
Paul’s tongue continued to flick and eat at your pulsating center.
Jacob’s encouraging hums in your ear and Paul’s deep dark groans, had you losing the last bit of your mind that you were holding onto.
It felt like you had neon guts. You couldn’t see nothing but stars, it felt like you were tasting star dust. The tingles danced on every inch of your face.
You moaned out each of their names like prayers. You didn’t know what you were begging for. All you knew was that every lick, every touch, was a lot.
Paul came up for air. Your legs were so weak.
“Give her to me.”
It was Paul’s turn to have your back pressed against his chest.
Jacob kneeled, propping your shaky legs on his shoulders.
You hum out a protest but Jacob shushed you gently while rubbing your inner thighs.
“Just fuck his face for me.” Paul whispers as he sensually messaged your breast.
“Just let me taste you.” Jacob whispered.
Your head threw back as he took you in his mouth. Your hips waved against his face as Paul’s touches were making you feel an overwhelming sensation of euphoria.
“Yes. Just like that.” Paul whispered as he ran his hands down your sides, making your body react to his touch. He captured your lips since your head was tilted in his direction.
You could only moan into his mouth, you felt another wave of energy coming.
You tried to pull away from his face but his lips found yours every time.
Your face crumbled as you came so hard, you gave up on all control. Falling into the buzz, your lower stomach violently burst with tingles, enough to make you want to cry. It felt like you were floating in the room like a reefer.
Only they could make you feel like this.
Blinking away the stars, you didn’t register them ever putting you on your back in your bed.
Your chest rose and fell as you tried to catch your breath.
Two men lay beside you. Paul was propped on one elbow as he tilted his head a bit, caressing your arm.
“How do you feel?” Jacob asked quietly.
You couldn’t even speak. You let out a satisfied sigh, smiling a bit. This amused Paul.
“We took real good care of you. Didn’t we?”
You could only tiredly but lazily stretch your face into a genuine smile. You felt like you were on top of the moon.
Description: Paul finally apologizes for the scar(s) he gave you when he saw you for the first time.
Pairing: Paul Lahote | Human mate!You.
Warning(s): Paul's anger, possible past angst, fluff, Paul is a crazed mess for you, size kink (duh), imprinting/mates, abo!verse but you're human, possessiveness, fingering, cunnilingus (worship), breeding kink, licking, biting, smut with plot because oh God I can never stop myself, teasing, pet names, unprotected p-in-v, overstimulation, manhandling, light dom!Paul because I am still me. MDNI.
Type: Request, for the sweet @wishyouloveme, here.
MASTERLIST
Just like any other day.
. . .
It hit Paul like a freight train and caused sweat to form in ice cold drops on his otherwise warm skin. He had just returned from patrol with Embry and was spread over Emily's dining table whilst stuffing his face with the food she had cooked for them. Everything was fine and dandy. It was a pleasant day and the weather was nice and cool. Soon, he would be done with his daily obligations and then he would go home.
But then Sam came up behind Emily who was standing next to her mate's seat at the head of the table, one hand on the frame and other on her hip as she listened to Seth drone on and on about something that Paul's voice refused to register due to what unfolded next.
The pack leader's strong arms snaked around the waist of his delicate lover as he nuzzled his nose into her hair until the tip had found its way past the dark strands and against her tender cheek until it was caressing and tracing the scars he had left on her.
All blood drained from Paul's skin and something in his head clicked. His surroundings faded to a dim buzz and the next few moments went by in a blur.
And then he was standing in front of home.
“Paul!” You yelp in surprise at the sight of your nude lover. He usually dresses himself at Sam's house after patrols before coming home to you.
Since you are human and your initial experience with the pack had both been overwhelming -thanks to your lover imprinting on you the first chance he was given- and traumatizing -as said lover who was much worse at controlling his primal urges back then had lost control at the sight of you because he was so overcome with raw, foreign emotion he did not know how to process-, you prefer to keep by yourself near the outskirts of the community in a house that Paul had moved in with you upon your request.
The pack life is simply too loud and… public for you; a city girl used to her secluded places and treasured privacy.
You notice that Paul is panting -which is very unlike him due to his superhuman strength- and a redness outlines his eyes when his huge form approaches yours. “Are you— Paul!” You gasp and nearly flinch from both the shock and impulse when he lets his heavy body collapse on its knees in front of you. “What the hell happen—” you never know with your hyper emotional mate.
His long fingers push your sweater up and out of his way so he can stroke the soft skin of your stomach with the tip of his nose, his head nuzzling into your chest as his dark eyes flutter close and he inhales a deep whiff of your scent. It is the only thing that never fails to calm your hot blooded lover down.
“What's wrong?” Your voice lowers to a concerned mumble as you peer down at him, your fingers cradle the dusky skin of his handsome face -as much of it as you can reach- and your nails rake through the male's jet black mass of short hair. “Honey?” He only behaves like this if something went wrong or when he is in need of comfort, which are both rare occurrences as he is the usual caretaker in your relationship. But you aren't a complete stranger to him acting like this.
Ever the uncommunicative one, the male only sighs— no, whimpers against your skin as if he's wounded and softly feels your skin with gentle caresses of his fingers. Words require thought, patience and wisdom. Unfortunately, Paul's instinctual mind runs too fast for those things to catch up with it in time and rash actions get carried out before better sense can supply him from its store.
“Paul…” A shiver runs down your spine when his lips that had begun to softly peck your navel find their way up your stomach before they halt to ghost over the healed, plum coloured lesions that stretch across your tender skin in menacing shapes akin to claw marks. “What are you doing?” Though he never mentions or discusses it verbally due to the guilt he feels, sometimes Paul becomes hyper aware of the scars of his unmediated passion that mar your skin and tries to make up for them in his own wordless ways.
Except, this only ever happens when you're underdressed or the two of you are indulging in activities typical to couples and the sight of them reminds him of their cause. He has never stormed into the house stark naked and marched up to you like an unreadable oversized pup on the brink of tears like this.
“I am sorry.” You nearly jump due to how unexpected the sound of his words are. Usually he just sulks in silence. “Baby, I am so sorry” Paul never speaks when he is in one of these moods. Especially when he is experiencing bouts of guilt for his actions during his first encounter with you. “Oh, God” his body grows heavy against yours as he practically pushes his face into the crevices like he wants to become one with them and fill them back up to their original state with parts of himself.
“Paul— oof!” Your smaller body yields to his weight and the ground slips from underneath your feet. “D- Did the guys say something?” You fear the worst as Paul's protective hands catch you before your back can hit the wooden ground and you cannot help but whimper from how his lips lock with the scars in thick, desperate and hurried apologetic kisses.
Paul and his pack mates play rough and sometimes they go too far with the teasing. So though he clings to the tough guy act in front of them, he dismantles into you once he is home if their words ever get too far. Yes, the tussling and fighting is not enough if it's serious. And just sometimes, when it gets too much for him to bottle it up, he shares some of it with you. But most often not, since he knows how you feel about the pack and he does not like to worry you.
“I am sorry it has taken me this long to say it out loud, baby… but I am so sorr—”
“Paul, hey, look at me” but he refuses to detach himself from your skin in his shame, his big hands safely holding your whole body up against his. “You don't have to—” you cannot help it, you hate to see him like this when you know how badly he regrets it. You hate for him to hurt.
“But I do” he nearly growls against your skin, his fingers tightening on your hips to brace himself against the war in his head. “There’s not a day that goes by where I don't regret it.”
“But you didn't do it on purpose, baby” you sigh when he refuses to let you see him. Your fingers try to pry his stubborn face upwards. “And you worked and improved for us, didn't you, hm?” Your eyes earnestly search for his. “Don't sell yourself so short.” One of your hands rubs his tense shoulders to try and ease their guilt-stricken stiffness.
“All the same” ever the stubborn knucklehead. “I should have done this a long time ago. But I was selfish and I was afraid that if I verbally mentioned it…” He hesitates and the love you behold for him renders you helpless against a burning urge to reassure him.
“My love—”
“I was scared you'd get reminded of it and…” He takes a deep breath and then gulps down the bile in his throat, blinking back tears. “L- Leave me…” Paul's voice is barely a whisper and your heart breaks at how vulnerable he sounds. “And I am such an asshole for it because it had more to do with my fear of you leaving me than you reliving your trauma…”
“Paul…” You blink and try to focus, but his warm gropes and caresses falter your steam of thought.
“I love you, I really do, so much” he peeks up at you just a little, dark eyes frightened for the first time since the day he scarred you. “Please forgive me. I don't ever want to lose you. I know what I did was irreversible but I swear I'll spend the rest of my life fixing it… if you'll let me.” You shake your head.
Does he really think there's an off chance that you will leave?
“Paul” when you cup the side of his face, he hides into your stomach again. “Hey,” you try to duck your face closer to his. make him look at you. “Look at me” your intended request comes out an order due to all the emotions you feel. “I forgave you a long time ago. That's the reason why I am still here” you finally manage to place your forehead against his, making your breaths mingle with his. “I love you more, so much more.” He opens his mouth to drone so you beat him to it.
“Now shut up and kiss me.”
Paul is taken aback at your demand, his widening eyes prove it. But as surprising as it may be for him, this isn't something that was unresolved for you until today -unlike him- so you aren't as overwhelmed with angst. Because your mate has proven his love, devotion and worthiness of you through his actions over the course of your relationship. He has shown you that he loves you and that he is sorry for what he did.
If anything, his innocently intimate and lovestruck worship of your body has fired it up instead of making it sentimental.
And so you want him.
Bad.
“But—”
“No buts. Kiss me.” You are breathless as you urge him to do so, your hands try to pull his face closer into yours although in vain because his bigger and stronger form remains unbudging.
Paul's eyes search yours for assurance. “... Yes, ma'am” he whispers once finds it and the next thing you know, you're being pounced down onto the floor with his arms cased around you to protect you from the impact.
And though you always feared that him getting physical in this manner would trigger you, you giggle against his mouth that he drags across your chest and up your throat to clamp onto yours. Your arms circle around his broad shoulders and instead of trying to repel him -like you suspected you would despite having grown to trust him now- you pull him closer as you whimper into the tender yet hungry kiss, feeling your legs climb the lower half of his body instinctively.
“Paul~” you needily blabber against his tongue that he uses to enjoy the sweetness of your mouth, his balmy lips enveloping everything your mouth has to offer in tight, big kisses. “Mm~” your chest aches from the strain the lack of oxygen puts on your lungs but your sparking nether regions only scoot closer to his that you feel riling up against yours, your hips grinding against his and limbs tightening around his rock hard body.
“Mine” he growls against your mouth when he has no choice but to pull apart at last, his coarse fingers groping you in greedy handfuls while peeling away any fabric that hurdles their path to your skin. “All mine” you moan at the feeling of his teeth grazing against the tender skin of your boobs that he sprays with kisses and licks. “God, mouse, I love you so much” the strength he puts into pushing everything you wear on your upper body away from it leaves you breathless. You love the thrill you feel when his touch feels like he is on the horizons of the dangers he is capable of. When he is so worked up and desperate that he cannot help but get rough because your sweet sweat and arousing body heat fires him up the way it does. You are addicted to the sight of him not giving in to his beastly impulses despite all that because he loves you so much. It is scary, yes. But it turns you on too.
“I love you too, Paul” though he likes to act cocky and all-knowing most of the time, you know he needs to hear it too. Underneath all that knucklehead play fighting and manhandling of his, he needs reassurance just as much as the next person and though he tries not to burden you as his different lifestyle is hard enough for you as it is, you don't have to be part wolf to feel him and hear his heart.
“You're so perfect…” The way he peppers wet kisses along your cheekbone whilst relieving you of the rest of your clothing causes for your eyes to flutter close to cherish the tingling feeling that sparks your body alight. “Just—” when you try to reach for him to also make it enjoyable for him, he plants your hands above your head and softens your confused pout with a kiss. “Just let me take care of you today, yeah? Don't worry about anything.”
“But— oh!” He reaches for the mating mark that sits on the right side junction of your neck where a she-wolf's mating glad would be. And though you lack the physical features to feel him through it, the meaning that it holds for Paul serves as a bridge for the biological gap. “Oh…” You turn your head sideways to rub your cheek against his shaved one, your hips roll into his hand that dips between your legs and you shudder against Paul's hot tongue that drags across the impressions of his teeth that crevice your skin.
“Taste so fuckin' sweet, baby” there is a strain in Paul's voice because of how much strength it is taking him to hold himself back from impaling you full of his cock right there. “So perfect” the lower half of his body leaps down so he can rub his bare erection against the softness of your leg.
You moan at the feeling. “Paul,” you whisper into his hair, the feeling of his sharp teeth causing for slick to sizzle up to your entrance from the inside. He growls out a quiet yes, baby against the mark, one hand constantly caressing the dents running along the width of your stomach. “Don't hold back” you go to touch his rock hard cock and he grunts in denial, seizing your wrist in his fingers faster than you can blink.
His face comes up to dominate your vision. “No, mouse, tonight is all about you” another kiss squishes out any protest you can form and when his invasive tongue has your nostrils flared from the breathlessness, Paul drags it down your writhing body in the company of heavy pecks until his mouth is between your thighs and he is propping one up with a broad shoulder and the other with his hand that isn't occupied with caressing the evidence of his temper.
“Paul—!” He knows how shy you get when he is between your legs like this.
But it's not his fault you taste so fulfilling.
“Sh, little mouse, you're perfect” he kisses any and all insecurities away with gentle kisses, the hand that cases one of your thighs stroking the tender inside with its thumb. “And you taste so good too” he takes his time worshiping your pelvis, deliberately leaving out your pussy to save the best for last. And though you pretend to disapprove and whine for him to come back up and just fuck you instead, his soft kisses that vibrate into your skin every time he moans at the feeling of your nether skin touching his slightly chapped lips, you find yourself helplessly crying out for more at the end.
“Paul, please!” You feel his mouth twist into a smirk and your hands dart to finger his thick hair to withstand the sensation of his mouth hovering over your petals.
“Please what, mouse?” You roll your eyes at the taunt in his voice.
“Please touch me!” Your fingers impatiently tug at his short strands and he grins.
“Oh, mouse, but I am touching you” you whine and his shoulders vibrate under your knees from his devilish mirth.
“Y- You know what I mean!” Though your cheeks are already aflush, you feel new heat seep underneath the layers of the reddened skin.
“Mmm, but I thought you wanted me to—”
“Paul!” You desperately whine and he lets out a deep cackle.
“Fine, geez” he is so mean when he gets smug. You go to scowl down at him but he takes the mound between your legs in a deep handful and feels the slit between your petals in a vertical caress of his thumb before you do and you end up letting out a loud moan instead. “Needy much?” You bite your lip and wantonly roll your hips closer to his mouth. “Tsk, tsk. Impatient little mouse…” The tip of his digit presses between your nether lips that are dusted with pearly discharges of your arousal and a cherry red flush and your hips buck in anticipation. “You're lucky that you're so pretty and I like you so much…” Your spine trembles in your skin when you feel the coarse skin of his thumb against your ultrasensitive folds. “Because I typically don't appreciate things so small ordering me around…” Your back arches when he finally sticks the hot tip of his tongue between your nether lips.
“Oh…” You feel your toes curl. “More, please, Paul, more.”
He is so enchanted by your sweet scent and addictive taste that he is ignorant to anything that isn't your body. “But you, my dear mouse, you're something else…” His strong hands take your ass in them and he firmly kneads the plump skin, talking pretty much over you with a lust-drunken madness. You mewl out a moan at the feeling and Paul growls at the sound you make, pulling you closer to his mouth as he presses an open kiss to your pussy. “Fuck,” he groans and licks his lips that glisten from your slick, his own tip leaking at the taste of you. “I've never tasted anything like you before and I sure as hell am never gonna get tired of it.”
“Paul!” you cry out when his tongue twirls against your entrance, his nose rubbing against your clit to caress it with the tip as he begins to eat you out.
His growl that vibrates your soaked folds to a buzzing life causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “Paul” you moan breathlessly, his name turning to a prayer as you tremble on the verge of releasing more slick.
“Gimme that sweet cum, baby, let me taste it” your lips part and you can't help but arch into his mouth with need. His hands are merciless, the one on your ass kneads it with rough gropes as the other massages the underside of your thighs in broad, determined strokes. You moan and writhe against him, your vision blurring at the hot waves that take over your body.
“I am gonna— oh, Paul!” He moans against you as you tremble and then release more even slick into his mouth. His tongue is in heaven as he greedily licks up all he can get.
“Fucking hell, baby” the grainy tip of his tongue pokes and prods at your entrance, working the little hole open. “I can't wait to stuff this pretty little pussy full of my pups.”
“Mmm, oh fuck, Paul, oh fuuuck” when he finally penetrates the tight barrier and his hot tongue invades your sensitive cavern, the burning knot between your hips gets tighter. Paul moans at the feeling of your delicate walls and though the vibrations of his doing so shakes you to your core, you cannot help but greedily wrap your legs around his head to both stay in place and withstand the pleasure.
“Oh, God, Paul, ’m so close!” Your voice is a breathless mewl and he growls at the vulnerable sound, his cock hurting from need. “Oh, fuck” you tremble so badly that you'd collapse into the ground if your knees weren't propped up by your mate's shoulders. “Oh fuck, oh fuck” Paul’s jaw flexes against your thighs when he begins to fuck you with his tongue, one hand fumbling for your cunt before he tickles the hood with his thumb. Your back arches and you clench your eyes shut, your chest heaving as you gasp out his name.
“Tsk, tsk, mouse” his hot breath fans your sensitive folds and you can't help but whimper at the feeling of his middle finger replacing his tongue. “You need to relax.” His hand that holds your ass pats your cheek in an endearing yet condescending way and your whole body tenses up at the touch even more. “I'm gonna take care of you, baby” you cannot help but rock your hips to his finger stretching your insides out against it. “You're mine and I'll never let you get hurt again, I promise” he croons before pressing a tender kiss to your clitorial nub. “You know that, right?” He kisses the slick covered inside of your thigh next to soothe your shaking body. “Tell me you know you're mine” his possessive words make the heat between your legs to go haywire.
“I am yours, Paul” you breathlessly promise him before letting out a moan when he tickles your folds with his tongue in a praising manner, satisfaction breaking out on his handsome face at your obedience.
“Good mouse” he begins to lap at your nub and your walls tense around his finger as a result, causing for your slick to slosh from the opening and down Paul's hand. “Shh, mouse, easy now” he cooes to get you to relax because of how tightly you are clenching yourself and it only gets worse when he adds a second finger. Your hips are so tight. You are on the edge. “You're gonna let me take care of this cute little pussy, aren't you?” You whimper at the feeling of being stuffed full and being licked at the same time.
“Y- Yes, Paul!” The air is heavy with the smell of slick and the sound of him slurping your juices up.
He adds a third finger and you nearly burst into tears from the pleasure. “Oh God, Paul, I am gonna cum!” Your entrance burns from the stretch and you moan from the bittersweet discomfort. “Please, lemme cum! Wanna cum so bad! Please, please!” Your submissive side comes out because of how overwhelmed you are and Paul can cum from the fragility of your voice right here.
“Hold it for me, mouse, good girl, c'mon” you sob at his cruel denial and he closes his lips around a mouthful of your folds, soundfully sucking at the clammy skin as he speeds his hand up to practically hammer your trembling pussy into an orgasm. Your toes curl and you throw your head back, fingers tugging at his hair as you tremble violently against him. Your back arches from how his free hand pinches and twists your nipples, softly landing occasional smacks to your boobs. “Good girl. I know you can take it” his hand then comes down to massage your ass cheek to make for a better stretch. “Relax, baby” you sob out his name and he smiles against your quivering core, his cheek gently caressing the inside of your thigh to get you to loosen up a little because you are clenching so hard.
“You're doing good, mouse. So good” his lips buzz against your clit. “Take it, baby, take it” your walls twitch against his coarse digits. “That's a good girl” he praises you while continuing to stuff your pussy with his fingers, the feeling of being filled up to the brim causing for you to shake and tremble violently. “That's my good girl” his tongue licks your clit as his fingers curve inside of you to search for your sensitive bundle of nerves that always makes you let out the sweetest of melodies.
“I'm gonna— I can't anymore, Paul!” Neon shapes cloud your vision when his fingers graze your sensitive spot and he growls at the feeling of your walls convulsing around his fingers.
“Yeah, baby. You can cum now” he finally relents and you cry out from the joy. “My little mouse, give me that sweet cum” his mouth never stops moving against you and you are so overcome with emotion that you are not sure if the tears that are streaming down your cheeks are due to pleasure or pain. “Gimme it, mouse. Gimme it” his tongue is like a beast that eats you up to satiate its starvation. You cry out his name from the pleasure.
“Paul! Paul, Paul— oh god!” The tongue is too much, though it gives you everything you could ask for at the moment, you need to escape. But when you try to pull away Paul catches your hips and holds you in place.
“Now, where do you think you're going, little mouse?” There is a beastliness to his voice.
“N- No, Paul! No more—” you don't get to finish your plea because his mouth clamps down on your sensitive flesh to suckle on it in big, eager kisses again and your heart threatens to burst through your chest.
“Oh fuck” the knot between your legs tightens so hard you cannot maintain it anymore. Vertigo breaks through your hearing. “Oh— Paul!” The orgasm takes over your whole body, your mind blurs from the burst of sensation that courses through your blood and everything turns into a euphoric mess. “O- Oh God…” You tremble from the aftershock and Paul groans when he feels you squirt. He releases your hips and you fall back onto the floor, your body too weak to withstand its own weight. “O- Oh fuck…” You're breathless and your body feels like jelly. “Paul, oh Paul…” Your fingers desperately try to reach for him like you're no older than a baby and you notice that he is stroking his hurting cock because of the need to bury his knot in you, a pained expression etched across his face. “P- Paul, I am ready” though you can barely speak, your body shakes from the need to be filled up by him.
“Mouse… are you sure?” Though his voice strains from the painful need, he prioritizes your comfort over his and your heart wells up.
“Y- Yes” you try to sit up. “Fill me up, please” he needs no more encouragement after that. With a low growl, he jumps onto you and you feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance in a heated caress that makes you whine, your body even forgetting to yelp from how he pounces on you.
“I'll never hurt you again, mouse” he whispers into your ear as he buries his nose into your hair, cock throbbing between your legs. You gasp when he enters you in a quick thrust that makes for all the air to bolt out of your lungs. “I promise.” You tremble in his hold and Paul groans at the feeling.
“I know” his mouth clamps down on the mating mark upon hearing your whisper and he slowly stretches your pussy to fit around his erection that even after all that fingering is still too big for your tiny cunt. The overstimulation causes for stars to form in your vision. His cock twitches inside you and he growls, the tip of his tongue tickling your nape in need.
“That's a good girl, baby” the hand that cups the side of your face tenderly strokes your cheek. “Relax for me” when your walls finally adjust to his log-like girth, Paul grins against the mating mark. “You're doing so good for me” the thrust of his hips causes for his cock to rub against your sensitive spot and your eyes roll to the back of your head with the feeling. “There's my good girl. You take my cock so well.” He releases his bite, hips pistoning up and down between your legs as he baby talks to you and strokes your hair to comfort you against the overstimulation that makes you whine.
“Paul!” You tremble as he fucks you in slow, long strokes and you cannot help but cry out his name in need.
“I'm here, baby. I got you” he murmurs into your hair and you moan at the baritone of his voice. “Take this cock, baby, you got it” he pants as his fat cock slides in and out of you. Then he suddenly grunts and readjusts you in his hold because the position is not comfortable enough for you and he can feel it. “God, you're so perfect.”
“I love you, Paul” you murmur into his ear, your hips lazily rolling against his as you hold him tight.
“I love you more” the latter part of his sentence turns into a growl due to his struggle with the positioning and he collects your limp form in his. “And I can do this better” though he roughly pushes your bodies off the floor to head for the bedroom, his fingers subconsciously caress your back in gentle strokes to make up for how your bare skin rubbed into the floor during the ordeal. You whine from how his heavy sack puts a strain on your entrance where your bodies connect as he does so. He cooes praise and reassurance in your ear as comfort, peppering your mouth with gentle kisses.
.
The next morning when he leaves for patrol in a black tank top and some shorts, there is a shy grin on his face as he looks back at the door one last time to wave you goodbye. You blush and return the gesture, biting your lip like it's the morning after your first time with each other.
“Geez, man, not the dreamy eyes!” A groan sounds from somewhere in the woods and you gasp before ducking behind the door. Chuckles and howls follow.
The jerk brigade has arrived.
“Someone get these two a room!” You recognize Jake's voice and shake your head as you peek outside from behind your shield. “Oh, wait, they did that already!” You cannot help but snort when you see that Paul has begun to jog in the direction of the voices. “In light of how the whole town learnt all the ways in which Paul's name can be moaned last night” uh, oh. That's not going to be good. Your lover is very private and sensitive about you as it is and when someone tries to pry or joke about matters of this sort he does not appreciate it. Especially if it's his hormonal friends that he knows too well. “Paul, Paul, oh, Paul!” Your cheeks burn in embarrassment and Paul snarls before he flings his shirt off and jumps into the air, transforming into his beastly form midway and disappearing into the woods to attack the offendor.
You see the great trees shake from the tussle that you can practically visualize behind them and the encouraging howls of Paul's pack mates further confirms it. They love to get a rise out of your easily excitable boyfriend and he loves to put them in their place, being the strongest after Sam. Their crossing of each other's boundaries for the sake of fun used to concern you in the beginning but Paul himself assured you that that was just how they played and it was not coming from a bad place.
So you wait for the ferocious crowd to move further away into the jungle that surrounds your house before you walk down to the dirt road to collect his clothing with a lighthearted shake of your head. A smile graces your lips as you do so and you cannot help but graze the now covered scars that your superhuman lover gave all his love to last night.
Though it will be a while before he does, you cannot wait for him to come back home to you.
. . .
I am sorry if it sucks omg I really hope you like it <3
twilight request: paul and human reader know each other since childhood and he imprinted on her at this time so its been known that they're "together" but he never officially asked her to be his girlfriend or anything and reader gets really frustrated with that bc she feels like paul and the whole imprinting thing are trapping her and she feels suffocate by him sometimes so tension !!!
distance makes the heart grow fonder
pairing; paul lahote x fem!reader
word count; 1.4k
warnings; hurt/comfort, angst, fluffy ending, paul is a dumb boy but he makes up for it ig
a/n; ahhh i missed writing for twilight! luv my boy paul<333
You're pouting, pressed into the well worn divot in the seat of Emily's couch as you glower at Paul from across the room; the leather almost swallows you whole, suctioning against your bare legs when you shuffle to face him. He huffs when you sigh, corded biceps crossing over his chest.
"What?" He feigns innocence as though you weren't witness to him flirting his way through the party at La Push last night. Something red hot and angry twists at your insides as you recall the memories.
"I'm not your girlfriend."
He breathes a sharp exhale, a brow raising in question.
"No, you're not."
You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his dismissal, pushing back the sharp sting at the edges of your vision and instead sinking further into the old leather and picking at a loose thread in your sweater. You can feel his eyes on you when you angle your body away from his, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as it warbles.
"So how come you think you have this stupid claim on me, then? A guy likes me and you threaten to rip his throat out, but you're allowed to flirt with any girl with a pulse?"
A low warning rumble pushes through Paul's chest, a signal that you dutifully ignore. He takes a step towards you, then two and three, until he's looming over your figure.
"Because you are mine," he says, brow pulling tight.
"So I'm yours but you're not mine?" you persist. "I don't think that's fair." Your blood roars in your ears; everything feels too hot, jealousy pouring into your veins like molten lava, thrumming and rushing against your frantic pulse. "I'm done, Paul."
He blinks. Takes another step towards you before you're holding your hand out, pressing the tips of your manicured nails into the dip of his stomach to halt his approach.
"What?" His mouth feels dry, struggling to form words as he stares– just stares, brow pinched, nostrils flaring.
"I- I can't do this. I can't spend my life waiting around for you when you don't care about me."
He crouches, sliding those warm palms up and around your calves, cupping the backs of your knees.
"You think I don't care about you?"
You sniffle, folding your knees up to your chest; Paul moves fluidly with you, thick fingers curled round your limbs as though he's an extension of your own body.
"Not the way I care about you."
Your body betrays you, flushing white-hot as he knuckles at your jaw, the pad of his thumb - calloused from years of fighting and rough play - pushing its way into the soft flesh of your cheek.
A tear slips from your welling waterline and gathers in the crook of his knuckle.
"Baby-"
You bristle, shrugging away his touch as if it will somehow lessen the ache in your chest, the hollow feeling you can't seem to shake. He crawls upward, onto the couch next to you, his spine bowing until he's curled over your shuddering form.
"Don't call me that. You don't mean it."
"Bab-"
"Stop."
He straightens, taut as a bowstring, watching as your back curves and you rake your flushed face against the rough denim of your jeans. You feel his attitude change, soft pity melting to anger, spine stiffening, lips pushing into a hard line that morphs his expression into something you hate.
Because he never directs his anger at you.
Shame - ugly and cruel - licks at your veins, heats your blood almost hot enough to curdle. It scalds your every vein and sours you from the inside out.
You swipe at your swollen eyes with the backs of your fingers, unfolding your limbs until you're standing. Your voice wavers as you speak.
"I'm going home," you croak.
"You can't just leave!" He throws his hands up, standing until you're chest to chest, nose to nose. "We need to talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about. You didn't ask to be shackled to me."
"You think that's what you are to me?" he asks, and the cruel bite to his tone is enough to make you cry all over again.
"What am I, then?"
A beat passes. Two. Three. Paul's fingers curl into tight fists at his sides; your eyes sting when you push back the telltale itch at your waterline, and you sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that he means more to you than you do to him.
"I'm going home," you say again, firmer. "It's better this way, Paul. Trust me."
It's always what you've been best at, anyway. Running.
Paul's torn between following you and sinking further into the couch; he opts for the latter, teeth bared in a groan as he curls a fist around a stray cushion, nails almost piercing and tearing the soft fabric.
The engine of your truck sounds far away in his ears as you pull out of the driveway, his chest hollow, the ache growing as you cover more distance.
Away from him.
When you walk through the door, the silence of your apartment is like a strike to the head; the soft whooshing of the washing machine does little to soothe the throbbing in your chest at your imprinters absence.
Not that you're sure he really is yours.
You're quick to strip of the tee and jeans you're sporting, eager to rid yourself of Paul's scent – once a comfort, now it only serves to deepen the aching tremors that wrack your body with white-hot agony.
The quiet lasts two days. Two days of no text messages, no phone calls, not a whisper of his name among the wind. Complete radio silence.
Two days until Paul Lahote is beating down your door with a ferocity that should terrify you.
It only serves to kick up your flaring anger as you wrench the door open, the hinges rattling.
He doesn't give you a second to breathe, surging forward to lock his arms around you like a vice, shoulders shuddering with every laboured breath.
"Paul," you scold, squirming in his grip when he tightens his hold on you, nuzzling his nose against your pulse point. The frantic way in which he clings to you, palms kneading the flesh beneath your t-shirt, is almost primal – as though he's scenting, marking you.
"You know how much it fucking hurts to be away from you?" he grunts, backing you into the wall. You gasp, instinctually threading your fingers through the hairs at his nape as he hungrily grabs at every inch of your skin he can reach. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, scoffing at his words.
As if he has any right to feel this way. As if this isn't his fault.
"You know how much you hurt me..." You take a breath, voice warbling as tears gather at your lash line. "...all the time? You know how much you torture me?"
Paul coos, smoothing a hand over your head. "I know, baby. I know."
You sniffle, and your throat tightens, a silent sob pushing its way from your clenched teeth.
"Hate you," you whimper. "Hate you so much."
Paul groans, pressing his chest to yours. His rumbling cadence seeps right down to your bones.
"I'll swear off it all, princess. No more girls, no more flirting. No more parties. Just me 'nd you, how 'bout that?"
You sigh, eyes wide as you peer curiously up at him. "You don't mean that."
Desperation coats his every word. "Mean every word of it, I promise. Please, these last two days have been hell without you, princess. I don't want to be away from you."
"You're just saying that," you purl. "You'd be unhappy."
Paul's head dips until his lips are ghosting across your cheek, his voice rasping. He kneads circles into the fat of your hip, nudging you closer into his space with every reverent touch.
"I can't breathe without you," he says, voice thick with tears. "I'm miserable. I'll do anything, please."
You sniffle, preening at his touch like a needy kitten. "You wanna be with me? Or you're just sayin' that 'cause I made a fuss about it?"
"Wanna be with you always, baby. I'm yours."
You sob, curling your fingers around the nape of his neck to press wet, smacking kisses to his cheeks. Tears coat your lips as you mouth at him, thumbs rubbing circles over his jaw.
Paul's chest shudders around an exhale.
"I love you."
You laugh wetly; he lifts you up until your legs twine around his waist.
"How about you show me how much you love me, Lahote."
warnings. female reader, mentions of blood, cuts and being stitched up
a/n. been back on my twilight grind lately... also trying get back to writing more and this scenario struck me with inspiration! if someone has requests, feel free to send them my way!
SUMMARY: if you were to look up the definition of clumsy in a dictionary, you would see a picture of you. despite your best efforts, it almost gives Embry a heart attack every time you get hurt. still he can't help but take care of you. 1.1k!
"We're home!"
You and Emily lift panicked expressions in the direction of Sam's voice. You gaze back down to look at the mess on the kitchen floor. The broken pieces of a jar surround you, as does the flour it contained. The floor is now a minefield of white powder and sharp glass.
You had watched in slow motion the jar fly off the counter after you accidentally hit it with your elbow. You apologized profusely to Emily, who used to your antics as always, had smacked her hand on her mouth to keep from laughing. The time you should have used to clean up was instead spent laughing and reenacting your expression as you tried to catch the pot before it hit the floor.
"Em?" Sam calls again.
"Shit," you mutter as she quickly wraps your hand in a towel.
Right when she is done, Sam turns the corner of the counter you are crouched behind. His eyes quickly consider the mess, while a knowing smile spreads on his face. He's about to make fun of you two, until he notices the towel wrapped around your hand is slowly turning a light shade of red.
"Please tell me Embry's not…" You whisper, hoping your boyfriend took a little longer before coming in. But as it seems, fate is not on your side today.
"Babe?" He appears next to Sam with a soft smile on his lips, like he's been waiting to see you.
His expression turns into a frown when he notices your suspicious attempt at hiding your hand. In a second, he's crouching beside you, eyes roaming wildly on your body, trying to assess the damage.
You try to warn him about the glass, but he blatantly ignores you. Either he doesn’t hear, or he simply doesn’t care, "What happened?"
"I promise it's nothing." You try to reassure him, but Emily's noticeable wince does not help your case.
"First— you are the worst liar in the whole world. Second— you're bleeding enough that I can smell it. Show me." His tone is firm, but never angry.
Shamefully, you present your now soiled, made-up bandage. You hiss softly when he takes it off, his lips forming a tight line when he sees the deep gash in your palm.
"Seth," he calls. "Please get your mom. I think she might need some stitches. Sam, I think you should help Emily out of here. There's glass everywhere, and somebody please get a broom."
You try to get up on your own, but are immediately swept off your feet before you can step on any of the shards littering the floor. "Are you trying to hurt yourself on purpose?" he grumbles before delicately dropping you on the couch.
Sue arrives a few minutes later while the boys are cleaning the mess. "Heard my favorite patient got herself in trouble again?"
Stopping abruptly his sweeping, Embry stares at both of you with furrowed eyebrows. "Your favorite patient?"
A very telling silence falls in the room. The unofficial doctor of the pack sits close to you, her medical kit in hand, with a barely contained smile on her lips.
"Sue's been helping me whenever I get into one of my little accidents," you explain with a lift of your shoulders. You know your clumsiness makes him nervous, but you're used to it, it's no big deal anymore.
Embry watches with careful eyes Sue get her equipment out before he sits down next to you, his hand resting on the small of your back.
When she starts stitching you up, he watches out for any sign of pain, but although your eyebrows are slightly furrowed, you handle it pretty well. "You are way too comfortable with this," he mumbles.
He stays with you the whole time and asks a thousand questions about the risk of infections or if there is anything he should do to treat the wound. Sue gives him disinfectant and instructions on how to clean it, while you swoon at how seriously he is taking this.
He drops back down on the sofa after she leaves. One arm immediately wrapping protectively around your shoulders while his other hand softly grabs your injured one. "I gotta say, I'm pretty impressed by how calm you were about this. That was a gnarly cut."
"Yeah, I guess it was pretty deep. Luckily, there wasn't any debris or jagged edges. It wasn't too bad, it should heal fine."
He listens with astonishment to your methodical assessment of your injury. "Alright, doctor."
"What?" you grin. "I told you, I've been collecting bruises and scars since I was a kid. I can't even remember how many times I needed to get stitches. You learn some stuff after a while."
"I'd rather you stop learning so much, Miss. Cuts and bruises. I get a heart attack every time you get hurt." He’s trying hard not to pout, his eyes focused on your hand while his fingers softly stroke the skin of your wrist.
"I'm sorry, I guess I've never had someone who worried so much about me before," you add softly. Even if you find it funny how worried Embry is, you recognize his concern for what it truly is: unrefutable love.
"Well, now you do, so better get used to it. And if you don't start being careful, I'll have to ask the others to watch you when I'm not around. Get some babysitters to make sure my girlfriend keeps all her fingers and toes." He jokes before booping your nose with a soft kiss. "Oh, and before you say that Emily does watch over you, I'm sorry, but I don't trust her anymore. She's no help when it comes to you."
You both hear an indignant 'hey!' come from the kitchen. "I'm perfectly capable of watching over her," Emily protests as she stands in front of the couch. "Not that she needs it." She quickly adds with a knowing look in your direction.
"I'm sorry, my love," interrupts Sam. "You are usually very capable," he says, setting his hand on her hips. "But she's a bad influence on you."
Emily looks at you with a devilish grin, unable to refute her fiancé. You do make a pretty awful duo, in the best way possible.
"Who knows, maybe one day I'll even be able to stitch myself up on my own. Which means I won't even need a babysitter!"
Your comment immediately makes Emily and Sam laugh. Everyone seems finds the idea very funny, except for the overprotective werewolf sitting at your side.
You can feel the disapproval emanating from him. "Don't you dare," he growls.
You give him a childlike grin and kiss his cheek with a big smack. "Don’t worry, I just like making you nervous."
He rolls his eyes in annoyance, but you know he’s trying his best not to melt right now. He’s got that twinkle in his eyes and keeps staring at you like you are a shining star. "You’re an absolute menace, you know that?"
📌 This is a work of fiction written by me. Reposts, copying or translations without credit is not allowed. Please be kind — creators deserve respect. 💌
— 🔞 Contains suggestive content and mature themes.
All interactions are consensual and written for entertainment purposes only. Read responsibly.
---
The air was thick with motor oil, pine, and that unmistakable scent that was just Jacob — earthy, warm, intoxicating. You sat perched on his beat-up workbench, legs swinging, the hem of your shorts riding up just a little higher each time he glanced your way.
He was leaning under the hood of his rebuilt Rabbit, shirtless, his bronze skin glowing under the harsh fluorescent lights. Muscles flexed with every twist of his wrench, sweat trailing down the line of his spine as he worked.
“You keep staring like that, and I’m gonna start charging you,” he said without looking up.
You smirked. “Charging for what? The show?”
He finally glanced over his shoulder, a crooked grin spreading across his face — cocky, wild, dangerous. “Damn right,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag before tossing it aside. “Premium view. I should at least get a tip.”
You tilted your head, letting your eyes roam slowly over his body — the tight line of his abs, the tattoo on his arm, the unmistakable heat in his gaze.
“I thought you liked me watching,” you teased.
Jacob stepped closer, every movement smooth and predatory, like a wolf circling prey — except you weren’t scared. You were aching.
“I do,” he said, voice lower now, rougher. “I like it a lot.”
His hands found your thighs, large and hot against your skin as he stepped between your legs. The energy shifted — electric, magnetic. You felt it hum through you, pooling low in your stomach.
“You always wear these little shorts when you come over,” he murmured, his fingers sliding just under the hem, knuckles grazing the inside of your thigh. “Is that for me?”
“Maybe,” you breathed, trying not to squirm under his touch. “And if it is?”
His grin deepened. “Then I guess I owe you a thank you.”
He leaned in, his lips brushing your neck — not quite kissing, just hovering — warm breath ghosting over your skin. His nose trailed up to your ear, and you felt the soft press of his teeth against your lobe.
“Thank you,” he whispered, low and sinful.
You couldn’t stop the soft gasp that left your lips. One of his hands moved to your lower back, pulling you forward, flush against him. You could feel everything — the heat of his skin, the unmistakable tension between your bodies, the raw desire that radiated from him like a furnace.
“Jake,” you said, your voice shaky now, but your fingers had already found his waist, sliding around to his back.
“I’ve been trying to be good,” he growled, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the side of your neck. “Trying to take my time. But you make it so hard, baby.”
Your hands traveled up his back, nails lightly scraping his shoulder blades. “Maybe I don’t want you to be good.”
Jacob froze for half a second. Then — gone. The leash snapped. He crashed his lips into yours, hot and hungry, devouring your breath like he couldn’t get enough. His hands were everywhere — your waist, your hips, sliding beneath your shirt, skin to skin.
You moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound greedily, pressing you back onto the workbench. The tools clattered, forgotten. All you could feel was him — the fire, the weight, the need.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, pupils blown wide, lips swollen. “You sure?” he asked, voice rough, almost shaking. “Because if we do this…”
He didn't finish the sentence, but the promise in his eyes said enough.
You bit your bottom lip, fingers tugging him closer by his belt loops. “I’m not scared. I trust you.”
Jacob smirked. “Good.”
He kissed you again — deeper this time, slower — and when he spoke next, his voice was nothing but a rumble in your ear.
“Because tonight, baby… don’t pretend you didn’t come here hoping I’d ruin you.”
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.
