gwen

always an angel, never a god ˙˖ 𖥔

[bambieyedoll]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⊹ ⋆ ꒰ఎﾟNAVIGATION ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

𐐪𐑂 — hi, my name is gwen. welcome to my account !

i consider my work to be a safe space and a source of comfort for anyone who needs it. i’m part of quite a big number of fandoms which i adore dearly and i slowly post content as i get more and more inspired.

please, feel free to interact in any kind of way !

❥ masterlist ! ❥ moodboards !

[bambieyedoll]

MINE !

summary: intense jealousy pushes paul’s fierce imprint instincts to the breaking point, driving him to lock the bedroom door and claim what is entirely his.

pairing: paul lahote x 𝒇 ! reader

word count: 1k

contains: jealousy, possessive ! paul, yearning, obsession, + 18 content, mdni, devotion

𝒯he absolute gravity of the imprint doesn’t just make paul a dedicated partner; it turns him into a man permanently operating on a razor’s edge. from the moment his eyes locked onto yours, his entire universe violently re-centered, and with that came a terrifying, intoxicating level of obsession. he doesn’t just love you; he yearns for you with a visceral, physical ache that never truly fades, even when you’re sitting right next to him. every breath he takes is filtered through the constant need to ensure your safety, your comfort, and above all, your absolute belonging to him.

his possessiveness is loud, heavy, and impossible to ignore. when you walk into a room together, his arm isn't just draped casually over your shoulders, his large hand is securely anchored to the nape of your neck or firmly gripping your waist, physically pulling your frame against his side. he marks his territory without saying a word, casting dark, warning glares at anyone who dares to look at you for a second too long. his inner wolf is constantly pacing the perimeter of your space, viewing the rest of the world as a collective threat trying to steal glimpses of what is entirely his.

the trigger for his snap builds up over a suffocatingly tense afternoon. maybe it’s a casual interaction, a male coworker lingering a bit too long at your desk, a guy at a coffee shop offering a polite but warm smile, or a male friend laughing just a little too easily at a joke you made. to anyone else, it’s completely harmless, but to paul, whose instincts amplify every micro-expression, it’s an unbearable provocation.

watching another man look at you makes his blood literally boil under his skin. you can feel the intense, vibrating heat radiating off him as his jaw tightens so hard the muscles twitch. he stands completely rigid, his dark eyes locked onto the offender, blackening with a mix of pure feral jealousy and an agonizing, possessive hunger. he doesn't cause a scene in public, only because he refuses to distress you, but the moment he gets you away from the crowd, his restraint completely shatters.

the shift the moment you’re behind closed doors is instantaneous and breathless. the door barely clicks shut before paul pins you against it, the sheer mass of his body crowding you into the wood, completely cutting off the rest of the world. he doesn’t speak at first; his breathing is heavy, ragged, and hot against your skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent like a dying man finally reaching oxygen. his hands are frantic but unyielding, framing your face, mapping the curves of your hips, needing to physically reconfirm that you are here, you are safe, and you are his.

the words are thick with raw, desperate vulnerability masked by his usual rough demeanor. his voice drops into a gravelly, low growl that vibrates against your collarbone as he confesses just how much it tortures him to see anyone else even breathe your air. "you have no idea what it does to me," he’ll mutter, his lips brushing harshly against your skin as he kisses his way up to your jaw. "watching them look at you like they have a right to. like you could ever belong to anyone but me. you’re mine. tell me you’re mine. c’mon." he needs to hear the verbal submission, needs your reassurance to quiet the roaring wolf inside his chest.

the sex is a masterclass in desperate, consuming passion. paul is usually careful with his supernatural strength, but when his instincts take over like this, he handles you with a firm, unyielding grip that leaves no room for doubt about who commands your body. every touch is heavy and deliberate; he holds your wrists pinned above your head or locks his fingers tightly with yours, pressing your palms flat against the mattress so he can look down into your eyes, ensuring you are completely focused on him and only him.

he claims every inch of your skin with a feverish intensity, leaving a trail of dark, burning bruises and love bites along your collarbone, the curve of your shoulder, and the inner warmth of your thighs. it’s an act of pure, instinctual marking. he wants you to wear the physical proof of his possession long after the night ends. when he finally sinks into you, it’s deep, slow, and overwhelming. a rhythmic, bruising pressure that drives away any lingering trace of the outside world until your thoughts, your gasps, and your entire existence are completely consumed by his heat.

the aftermath is deeply protective and tenderly suffocating. once the fever breaks and his instincts are finally quieted, he doesn't let you move an inch away from him. paul wraps his massive, heavy limbs around you, pulling your back flush against his chest in a tight, inescapable hold. he buries his face back into your hair, his heartbeat still thumping like a war drum against your shoulder blades, slowly lulling you both to sleep while his arms remain locked around you like a human fortress.

writer’s note : okay soooo . . i don’t even know what came over me but i wanted to try and write something more mature. as terrified as i was, i believe it turned out pretty decent. i’m even thinking of writing a longer, more detailed version of the bedroom scene but for now this is my first +18 writing. yayyyyy ゛⸝⸝ ⋆

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[bambieyedoll]

I LITERALLY GASPED AT YOUR NOTIFICATION WELCOME BACK ANGEL!!! 💌💌

IK, SURPRISE !! this is the best welcome, thank you so much baby, i’m so happy yayyyy.

[bambieyedoll]

the way i just logged back in only to post one of my drafts… I’M ALIVE, I’M SORRY. i missed youuuu. x

[bambieyedoll]

EDWARD CULLEN HEADCANONS

you’re bella‘s sister and his mate .

𝒲hen you move to forks, bella is already hopelessly fascinated by edward cullen. she talks about him constantly, her voice dropping into that dreamy, distracted cadence she uses when she thinks no one is paying attention. she tries to hide the sheer, clumsy obviousness of her crush, burying it under complaints about the rain or deflection, but you see right through it. you don't think much of it, though. to you, he’s just the mysterious, weird boy your older sister is infatuated with… until you meet him.

the moment edward looks at you at school, the entire room seems to lose its air. he freezes. it’s an incredibly subtle shift, imperceptible to anyone else, but you catch the way his gold-flecked eyes widen, the sudden, rigid tension in his hand as his fingers grip the edge of the desk. you don’t understand it then. you don't know that in that exact fraction of a second, the universe has just shifted violently on its axis for him. you don't know that he has just realized what you are to him: his mate. his singer. his perfect, devastating other half.

for edward, it is instant torture. the cosmic joke of it all is suffocating. it’s not just the agonizing pull of the bond; it’s the fact that you are bella’s younger sister. bella has already staked her claim in her mind, weaving her fragile human hopes around him. edward, guilt-ridden and desperately selfless to a fault, is instantly paralyzed by the morality of it. he looks at you and sees everything he has waited a century for, but when he looks at bella, he sees a betrayal waiting to happen. he doesn't want to cause tension between you two. to desire you, to even look at you the way his soul is screaming to, feels like an unforgivable sin against the sister who looked at him first.

bella notices the shift immediately, though she completely misreads the map. she catches the way the air goes entirely still whenever you walk into a room, and how edward’s intense gaze lingers on you for a fraction of a second too long before he violently tears his eyes away. to her, this quiet intensity looks like the tentative, electric spark of a mutual attraction. she thinks it's only edward being interested in her life and family. it only fuels her crush, blinding her to the truth, while edward spends every waking second silently beating himself. he loathes his own weakness, furious that his centuries of discipline are crumbling under the weight of how desperately drawn he is to you.

driven by a mix of terror and misplaced nobility, he chooses exile. he keeps his distance, cloaking himself in a cold, aloof armor that occasionally sharpens into outright harshness. every clipped response, every deliberate exit from a room the moment you enter, isn't because he dislikes you, it's because he is utterly terrified. he is terrified of what being close to you will do to his control, terrified of the fragile glass castle of bella’s feelings shattering, and most of all, terrified of ruining you.

but his restraint backfires, acting as a pendulum that only makes the predatory pull of the mate bond snap back tighter.

he tries to block you out, but your presence is a magnet. across the loud, chaotic clamor of the cafeteria, his hyper-attuned senses automatically filter out the noise until he is listening to the steady, rhythmic skip of your heartbeat. without meaning to, he begins memorizing the exact cadence of your laugh. and when fate forces you to sit near him in biology, the proximity is pure, exquisite agony. he doesn't just feel your presence; he feels the literal burn of your nearness radiating against his cold skin, a scorching heat in his chest that makes the thirst and the longing blend into one beautiful, unbearable torture.

you feel it too, though the feeling has no name in your vocabulary. every time edward’s gaze lands on you, your stomach twists into a tight knot, leaving you breathless. there is an intensity in his golden eyes that feels entirely too heavy for a stranger, a look that feels as if it’s reaching directly inside your soul, stripping away every defense you have. yet, the moment you try to hold his stare, to demand an answer with your eyes, he flinches and looks away, leaving you stranded in the cold.

slowly, bella’s infatuation with him begins to drive a silent, invisible wedge between you. at night, she gushes about him in the bedroom you share, her voice full of hopeful wonder, entirely unaware of the dull, phantom ache blooming in your chest. you swallow the bitter feeling and try to be the supportive sister she expects, but it kills you inside. it is a quiet, maddening torture to know that the boy bella is so certain she has a chance with is the very same boy who looks at you with such intensity making you feel in a way you've never felt before.

the torture only thickens as the rainy forks days blur together, because despite his best efforts to stay away, edward’s armor is cracking.

you start noticing the cracks. you notice how, even when he is trying to be cold, his voice automatically softens whenever he speaks directly to you. you notice how, on the days when the grey sky feels too heavy and you’re visibly upset, he suddenly appears at your side out of nowhere, a silent, comforting anchor in the crowded hallway. and most of all, you notice the dangerous dark flicker in his eyes, an expression of raw possessive territoriality you can't quite name, the second another boy tries to flirt with you. he is trying so hard to let you go, but everything he does proves he is already entirely yours.

every night, while the rest of forks sleeps beneath the heavy cover of clouds, edward is left alone in the dark with a mind that refuses to quiet. he paces the floor of his bedroom, locked in a brutal, cyclical warfare against his own nature. she is my mate. the universe made her for me. then, the crushing counter-strike: she is bella’s sister. you will ruin them both.

he tries to logic his way out of a cosmic pull, arguing with the silence. i can’t. i shouldn’t. but the vampire nature in him, the part that has waited a century for a reason to exist, fiercely overrides it all: but i need her. i am dying every second i stay away from her. what am i supposed to do? there are no answers, only the agonizing truth that his restraint is a thread ready to snap.

inevitably, the fragile peace at home begins to splinter.

bella’s hopeful wonder gradually sours into a restless, sharp frustration. she isn't blind; she begins to notice that for all her efforts, edward’s responses to her remain polite, distant, and flat. he looks through her, not at her. but what truly poisons the air is what she catches in the periphery. she notices that the rare, fleeting smiles edward tries so hard to suppress, the ones that actually soften his marble features and bring a genuine, brilliant light to his eyes, are never meant for her. they are always, invariably, directed at you.

at home, the atmosphere shifts from comforting to suffocating. the silence in the house grows thicker by the day, heavy with unsaid words and suspicion. bella stops gushing. instead, her eyes follow you around the room, filled with a quiet, hurt confusion that makes your stomach churn, while the unspoken truth sits like a ghost between you.

one rain-lashed night, the fragile peace finally shatters. the bedroom door slams shut, and the dam breaks. bella confronts you, her voice trembling with a potent mix of deep hurt and mounting anger. she accuses you of playing games, of subtly going after the one boy she has bared her heart about. you defend yourself, desperately denying it, and technically, you aren't lying. you’ve never flirted, never initiated, never done a single thing to draw him in. but beneath the panic of your denials, a sickening wave of guilt washes over you. deep down, you know her instincts aren't wrong. you know there is something between you and edward, an invisible, terrifying wire pulling you together even if you don't understand why yet, and it feels like a silent betrayal.

after the lights go out, the silence in the room is deafening. you bury your face in your pillow, crying yourself to sleep in muffled, shaky breaths. the heartache is suffocating as you stare into the dark, wondering if this strange, unnamed bond with edward is fated to destroy one of the most important relationships in your life.

outside, hidden beneath the shadow of the ancient trees wrapping around the house, edward stands perfectly still in the pouring rain. he hears everything.

his flawless vampire hearing catches every venomous accusation, every sob, and the agonizingly fast, panicked rhythm of your breaking heart. it breaks him. to listen to the two people he is most desperate to protect tearing each other apart because of his mere existence is a torment worse than the thirst. every sob you draw feels like a physical blow to his chest. in the freezing rain, a century of rigid discipline finally cracks, and for the first time, edward makes a definitive choice. he can't keep pretending anymore. he can't let you drown in guilt for a bond he is supposed to be carrying.

slowly, carefully, as if approaching a wild creature that might bolt at any sudden movement, edward begins to dismantle the walls between you. the cold armor melts away, replaced by a raw, quiet vulnerability. in whispered conversations in the quietest corners of the school library or beneath the shelter of the courtyard awning, he begins confessing pieces of his heart. he looks at you with a fierce, burning clarity and gives you the validation you’ve been drowning without: you are not imagining things. he tells you that the invisible, magnetic pull between you isn't a delusion, nor is it one-sided. it is a cosmic gravity and it can no longer be ignored.

the exhausting months of slow burn finally begin to pay off, yielding a secret world made entirely of stolen, breathless moments.

it’s in the electric shock of his cool fingers brushing yours as he hands you a textbook in class, a touch that lingers just a fraction of a second too long. it’s in the way his rich, velvet voice automatically drops an octave, softening into a tone meant exclusively for your ears, even when the chaotic noise of a crowded hallway surrounds you. he is still fighting his conscience, still agonizing over the shadow of bella’s hurt and the guilt of being the cause of the distance between you two, but his heart is no longer listening to his head.

the last barrier finally breaks completely one rainy afternoon. cornered by the sheer weight of his own devotion, edward leans in close enough for you to feel the chilling, intoxicating static of his presence. he looks at you, his golden eyes wide with a desperate, beautiful finality, as if he is drowning and you are the only breath of air left in the world.

when he speaks, his voice trembles with the weight of a hundred agonizing years of waiting.

“i've lived in the dark for a century,” he whispers, his breath a cool brush against your skin, his fingers hovering just millimeters from your cheek, aching to touch you but terrified to break the spell. “i didn’t know what i was waiting for, or if my soul even existed anymore. but it’s you. you're my soul, it's always been you. and i am so tired of fighting the universe, my love. i am yours, desperately, completely yours, even if it ruins me.”

the truth doesn't come out in another explosive fight, but in a quiet, inevitable realization. bella sees it on her own one afternoon, catching the exact way edward’s gaze anchors to you, a look of such absolute, desperate devotion that the world around him ceases to exist. in that moment, the fog of her crush finally clears. she looks at him, then at you, and she simply knows. she realizes she can’t compete with something that deep, a force that feels older than time itself. it hurts. a sharp, stinging bruise to her heart, but you're her sister and she loves you. looking into your eyes and seeing your shared guilt, she knows this isn't your fault. you didn't steal him; he was simply always yours.

the heavy, suffocating angst of the past months finally dissolves, paving the way for a beautiful, hard-won acceptance. bella gracefully steps back, releasing her hold on a fantasy that was never meant to be, and with her blessing, the shadows vanish. edward no longer has to hide the ocean of what he feels for you.

you finally get to breathe. you get to step out into the light and be together openly. yet, beneath his joy, edward remains quietly haunted, he looks at you and remembers the agonizing precipice he stood on, terrified of how close his own self-loathing came to costing him the only soul he has ever loved.

but once you are officially, undeniably his, all the hesitation burns away. he’ll never let you go.

the cold restraint and calculated distance of the past are entirely gone, replaced by an endlessly tender, fiercely protective devotion. edward claims you with a quiet, breathtaking certainty. he laces his cool fingers through yours every single chance he gets, grounding himself in your warmth. he presses his lips to your forehead, kissing you with a gentle, lingering intensity, as if he’s still afraid you might vanish like a dream if he lets go.

and when the rest of the world fades into background noise, he leans in to press his forehead against yours, his breath a cool caress against your skin. he whispers those three words: "i love you", not with the casual ease of a teenager, but with the aching, sacred reverence of a soul that has spent a hundred lonely years waiting for you to finally come home.

[bambieyedoll]

HELLO MY LOVELY DEAR!!! i really do think i got diabetes from how goddamn SWEET your embry call crushing on reader headcanons were, you absolutely nailed it!!!

i physically NEED more embry (krystopher hyatt) content, maybe something with a REALLY sweet and cute and soft and gentle embry and a mean and angry and kinda bitchy reader (but just cuz she's been hurt in the past and doesn't wanna get hurt again, yk???) and she's his imprint (duh) but everyone laughs at him while he tries to make her like him cuz she's known for being always angry or annoyed and extremely rude to everyone (specially boys who try to flirt with her lol)

bonus points if she ends up being soft with him and only with him

more bonus points if there's like a funny moment in which she's getting MAD at someone and embry does something so so so incredibly small (like saying her name softly laced with a warning tone or just looking at her with a small "calm down babe" expression) and she just takes a deep breath and shuts up and everyone in the pack is like "WHAT, HOW DID YOU DO THAT?????"

(srry for so much text, love you honey, byeee <3333)

hello, my dear anon ! gosh, you deserve the biggest apology because it took me WAY TOO long to write this in a somewhat decent way i could be satisfied enough to post. i don’t know why it was this hard for me but i really wanted it to be good. i focused on the slow burn trying not to make it boring. i ended up writing too much so i decided to post it in two parts, i hope that’s okay. it’s finally here ! i really hope you like it. love you too, angel. mwah x🐰

[bambieyedoll]

SIMPLE, SWEETNESS ˙˖ 𖥔

synopsis: you had built your walls high enough to keep the whole world out, promising you would never let anyone in again. until embry call, with soft eyes and a gentle smile he couldn’t hide, kept showing up everywhere you went.

pairing: krystopher hyatt ! embry call x 𝒇 ! reader

word count: 6,5k

warnings: mostly fluff, slow burn, slight angst, trust issues, loneliness, embry being a golden retriever, puppy love, grumpy x sunshine trope, part two soon

　 　 　ℳasterlist — check out my other work

𝒴ou didn’t like boys who smiled too easily.

the ones who flashed their teeth like it meant something, who acted like they had you figured out before you’d even said a word. you didn’t trust sweet talk, soft eyes, or the ones who called you “complicated” like it was charming. like they could fix you.

you’d learned young, too young, that kindness often came with strings. that the same hands that held you could let go without warning. that affection could sour in an instant, curdle into disappointment the second you stopped being who they wanted.

so you adapted.

you learned to speak first, to cut quick and clean. you let your words bite so no one would notice how badly you didn’t want to be left again. people said you were cold, rude, difficult. a bitch, mostly, but they never called you weak. and that was the point.

you rolled your eyes at the hopeful ones, the flirty ones. the ones who looked at you like you were a prize they could win if they just said the right thing. you didn’t play games with them. you didn’t flirt back. you watched them try, and you watched them give up because you didn’t want anyone close enough to leave bruises behind.

the truth was, you felt everything too much. that was the part no one really understood.

you weren’t cruel, not really. you were just tired. tired of being too much for some people and not enough for others. tired of building connections that cracked the second you let your guard down. tired of trying to explain why you had so many walls when no one ever bothered to knock gently.

so you built your personality like armor: sharp wit, sharper tongue. sarcasm like a second language. you rolled your eyes at affection and scoffed at sentiment. better to make people think you didn’t care than let them see you did.

and for a long time, it worked.

people kept their distance. you were left alone.

you were safe.

until embry call looked at you like he wasn’t afraid of getting cut. until he smiled at you like your thorns were just part of the bloom. until he stood there, seeing all of it. the anger, the ache, ache disguised as anger, and didn’t flinch.

because embry call wasn’t like anyone you’d met before.

and somehow, that terrified you more than anything else.

it began on one of those gray afternoons that seemed stitched into the fabric of la push. clouds low and bloated with rain, sky the color of wet concrete, and the tang of salt riding the breeze in invisible waves. the ocean churned in the distance, restless, its voice a steady hush behind the hum of traffic and gull cries.

you stood outside the diner, arms locked tight across your chest like armor, your hoodie drawn up just enough to cover your ears from the chill. the cold didn’t bother you, it was familiar, predictable. it made sense.

what didn’t make sense was the guy standing in front of you, practically vibrating with misguided confidence. he smelled like cheap cologne and chewing gum, leaning on a cocky grin like it was going to melt your expression into something more pleasant.

“c’mon,” he said, too casual. “you can’t be that cold. i’m just tryna be nice.”

you raised an eyebrow slowly, deliberately. it was the kind of look that made most people squirm, the one that said you’d already sized them up and found them lacking.

“if this is you being nice,” you drawled, tone dry as bone, “i’d hate to see what begging looks like.”

his face fell in a blink, defensive pride collapsing into embarrassment. he muttered something under his breath and stepped back, shoulders hunched like a kicked dog. you didn’t flinch. just watched him walk off, the corners of your mouth twitching with something that wasn’t quite satisfaction, but close.

then it happened.

you didn’t hear anything. you didn’t see anything move, but something shifted.

a pressure in the air. a hitch in the moment. like time hiccupped around you, invisible and sudden.

you felt it in your chest. some strange, invisible tether being pulled taut between you and something else, like your soul had caught on a hook. it made your spine straighten and your head turned, almost without permission.

and that’s when you saw him.

he was standing across the lot, near a rusting pickup truck with a group of loud, laughing guys you didn’t recognize. they were jostling each other, tossing bags and wrappers and elbowing each other in the ribs, but he was still. completely still.

embry call.

his dark curls were damp at the ends, clinging to his forehead like he’d walked straight through the mist without caring. he was taller than you expected, long-limbed and broad-shouldered, but with the kind of posture that said he hadn’t quite grown into himself yet. his clothes hung off him casually, worn jeans and a hoodie with the sleeves pushed up, exposing strong forearms.

but it wasn’t the way he looked that made your stomach twist.

it was the way he looked at you.

like someone had slammed the air out of him. like the earth had just tilted on its axis and he was the only one who noticed. his expression was so soft and stunned, almost reverent. like you weren’t just some girl standing outside a diner with a resting bitch face and biting sarcasm, you were something sacred. something important. something he’d been waiting for and hadn’t even known it.

you blinked, heart fluttering, and looked away immediately.

you didn’t do moments like that. you didn’t feel things like that. that kind of look? that kind of silence? it led to something. it asked things of you.

you hated it.

but still… you felt it. that strange tug in your chest, faint but undeniable. like gravity had shifted just slightly, and now it pointed in his direction.

you took a glance back.

he hadn’t moved, not an inch. his friends were still talking, laughing, shoving each other around and he hadn’t even noticed.

he was still looking at you.

like nothing else in the world mattered.

you tore your gaze away like it had burned you.

whatever had just happened, whatever that moment was, you didn’t want it. couldn’t handle it. the look in his eyes had cracked something open, and you slammed it shut before it could spill out.

no.

no, you didn’t do this.

you didn’t do soft looks from strangers and invisible tethers tightening in your ribs. you didn’t do boys with eyes that saw too much and mouths that didn’t know what to say. you didn’t do… whatever the hell that just was.

your legs moved before your brain caught up, boots hitting wet pavement as you turned on your heel and stalked toward your car. your heartbeat thundered against your ribs like a warning. you didn’t glance back. you didn’t have to.

you felt him watching you all the way across the lot.

there was a low buzz behind your ribs, something not-quite-painful and not-quite-pleasant, a tension that didn’t belong to you but had sunk into your bones anyway. it felt like the air was reaching for you, like it wanted to pull you back toward him. and god, that terrified you.

because a boy like that, who looked at you like you were something gentle, like he didn’t see the sharp edges and rusted hinges, he’d want things you didn’t know how to give.

he’d want trust. vulnerability. the parts of you that had been trampled and patched over too many times. and you didn’t know how to hand those over without bleeding.

so you left.

you climbed into your car, slammed the door harder than you needed to, and gripped the steering wheel until your knuckles whitened. you didn’t start the engine right away. you just sat there, staring at the windshield, at the rain beginning to bead across the glass. your throat felt too tight, your skin felt too small.

you didn’t know why you felt like you’d just turned your back on something that would’ve ruined you in the best kind of way.

but you pressed your foot to the gas anyway and drove.

and behind you, across the parking lot, embry call stood as still as a statue.

the laughter around him had faded into static. his friends were calling his name, nudging him with concern when he didn’t answer, but he barely heard them. he was still staring at the space where you’d been.

something in him had changed. deep, permanent and wordless.

he didn’t know your name. didn’t know why your shoulders were so tense or why your eyes burned like they’d forgotten how to be soft. but he knew one thing:

you were it.

the imprint had struck him like lightning. fast, consuming and completely blinding.

and you were already gone.

embry didn’t remember the sound of the rain starting.

didn’t remember the way the gravel crackled under his boots when he finally took a step forward. just one, instinctive and shaky, like his body hadn’t gotten the memo that you were already gone.

he’d stood there long after your car disappeared around the bend, blinking like he was trying to wake himself up. his heart was racing, chest tight with something he didn’t have a name for, his stomach swirling like the ground had just dropped out from under him.

imprinting wasn’t supposed to feel like this. was it?

he’d heard the others talk about it. jared, with that dopey grin whenever kim so much as breathed. sam, always steady but softer now, like emily had smoothed the rough parts of him. paul, even paul, who still lost his temper but would immediately shut up if rachel walked into the room. it was instinct, they said. it was fate.

but no one had told him how badly it would ache when she walked away.

you hadn’t said a word to him. you hadn’t needed to. the imprint had already sunk its claws in, and embry was left standing in a diner parking lot like some starstruck idiot.

he didn’t know your name. didn’t know anything about you except the way your eyes had flicked up to his. sharp, unreadable and cautious, and the way your expression shifted the second you felt the pull. you’d looked startled. then angry, and then you were gone.

it was probably for the best that he didn’t drive. he didn’t think he’d have made it home without swerving off the road.

by the time he dragged himself back to emily’s place later that day, the rest of the pack was already inside. feet on coffee tables, chips rustling in crinkled bags, and someone’s muddy boots leaving trails across the floor. typical.

“yo,” quil called the second embry walked in. “you died or something? you’ve been gone for like three hours.”

embry didn’t answer. he stood in the middle of the living room like he’d forgotten how to function. wide-eyed, flushed, and kind of… glowing? he dropped onto the armrest of the nearest chair with zero grace. eyes unfocused, mouth slightly open, like his brain had short-circuited mid-thought.

“dude?” seth asked, more gently. “you good?”

“i—” embry started, then stopped. swallowed, and tried again. “i think i… imprinted.”

the room went silent.

then, erupted.

“no way,” jacob barked, shooting upright with a grin like a kid on christmas morning. “you? you imprinted?”

“on who?” quil demanded, shoving a chip into his mouth. “wait— was it that scary-hot girl from the diner? the one who told that guy off and walked away like she’d rather be set on fire than flirted on?”

embry groaned and dropped his head into his hands, his ears burning. “yeah,” he muttered. “her.”

there was a beat of silence. and then:

“oh my god,” paul wheezed, dropping onto the couch, shoulders shaking. “she’s like a walking warning label, dude! even i know not to mess with her and i’ve never even spoken to her.”

“does she even know?” sam asked, more seriously now.

embry shook his head. “she looked at me for maybe two seconds and bolted like i was some serial killer.”

jacob clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “congrats, man. you found the one girl in la push who’s allergic to guys.”

“maybe she’s just playing hard to get,” seth offered. “some girls like a little mystery, right?”

quil leaned forward. “nah, dude. she’s got a reputation. she’s shut down every guy within a ten-mile radius. no one talks to her unless they want to get verbally murdered.”

embry rubbed both hands over his face with a helpless noise that might’ve been a whimper.

“no. there’s more about her…” he muttered, half to himself. “i don’t know her name. i don’t even know what color her eyes are, i didn’t get close enough to really see, but i swear i’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.”

and god help him, he wanted to see you again anyway. wanted to know what made you flinch like that. wanted to figure out why you’d built yourself out of steel and fire, and why his heart ached like he’d been waiting his whole life to hold something that sharp.

“yup,” quil said, clapping his hands. “you’re so screwed.”

jacob raised a brow. “you good, man?”

“no!” embry said, almost laughing. “i think i’m having a nice little breakdown, actually.”

sam, who’d been quiet through all of it, watching him with a sort of steady, knowing calm, finally spoke. “you need to earn it, then,” he said. “prove you’re not another guy with smooth words and nothing to offer.”

embry nodded slowly, his jaw tight with quiet determination.

he didn’t want her just because of the imprint. he wanted her because in two seconds she’d told the world exactly who she was and dared it to flinch. she was fire and barbed wire and the ache of something broken trying to hold itself together.

and if it took weeks, months. hell, even years, he’d wait.

because you were already in his bones.

it took him four days to find you again.

four long, restless days filled with false hope and near-misses. he circled the diner more times than he could count, lurking by the windows like some awkward, lovesick puppy. he wandered down to the beach, to the gas station, to the library. not because he had any reason to believe you’d be there, but because he couldn’t sit still knowing you were somewhere in this town and he hadn’t found you yet.

all he had to go on was a flash of your expression, the fire in your eyes, the sharpness of your voice when you cut through that guy like you were carving space for yourself in a world that didn’t deserve you.

he didn’t even know your name but he knew the imprint had settled into him like something ancient. something bigger than bones or skin. it thudded under his ribs and hummed in his blood, quiet but persistent.

you were out there. and his whole body seemed wired to seek you out.

and then, on a gray, rain-slicked thursday afternoon, he finally saw you again.

it happened all at once, like fate throwing open a door.

you were standing outside the corner store, hunched slightly under a threadbare hoodie, your earbuds in and your arms crossed like a shield. the rain fell in fine mist around you, turning the asphalt slick and silver. you weren’t doing anything in particular. just staring up at the clouds, jaw tight, brows drawn like the weather had personally offended you.

but embry didn’t see the clouds or the weather. he didn’t see anything else.

just you.

his heart hit his ribs hard, once, then kept pounding like it had just remembered what it was for.

you looked so completely unaware of the moment unfolding around you. just you and your music, standing like you were trying to take up as little space as possible without letting anyone think you were weak. there was something heartbreakingly familiar in your body language, something that made embry ache in a way that had nothing to do with the imprint and everything to do with the way you looked like you’d had to build your own armor one brick at a time.

for a second, he stood across the street, frozen. the rain hit his cheeks, his eyelashes, but he barely noticed. the air felt heavier around you. like the world had hit pause.

embry didn’t want to scare you off again. he still remembered the way your eyes flinched like a cornered animal when you locked gazes with him. so he tried to be… subtle. casual.

which, for a six-foot-something werewolf with puppy eyes and the quiet intensity of someone who’d just met his soulmate, was easier said than done.

don’t be weird, he told himself trying to remember how his legs worked. c’mon, be normal. be cool. just go over there and say hi. people say hi all the time, right?

but this wasn’t normal. nothing about the way you made his lungs tighten was normal. nothing about the way his hands were shaking or how his thoughts scattered every time he looked at you was normal.

still, he took a breath, wiped his palms on the front of his jeans, tugged his hoodie lower like it might hide the fact that he was about to approach the most intimidatingly beautiful girl he’d ever seen while actively vibrating with anxiety.

and then, with a determined exhale, he crossed the street.

the rain soaked into the fabric of his sleeves as he neared you. every step felt like it echoed. his pulse thundered in his ears as he tried to figure out what to say, how to say it, how not to freak you out. he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t the sharp flicker of your eyes lifting from the ground, catching him mid-step.

even from a few feet away, your gaze pinned him in place.

you didn’t move, didn’t take out your earbuds, didn’t change your expression, but your eyes followed him as he slowed to a stop near the store’s entrance just close enough to be casual, just far enough to give you space.

embry stood there for a full second too long.

the rain was soaking through his hoodie, plastering curls to his forehead, but he barely noticed. he’d frozen in place like a deer caught in headlights. only the headlights were your eyes, cool and sharp and unreadable, and he felt like he was slowly unraveling under your gaze.

say something, anything, his brain screamed at him.

and so, with a breath that trembled just slightly, he stepped a little closer and said:

“hi. um. sorry, i didn’t mean to… stand there like that. i wasn’t—well, i mean, i was standing there, obviously. but i wasn’t like watching you, not in a weird way. just in a passing-by kind of way. you know?”

he gave a breathless, panicked laugh at the end of the sentence, like he could feel it all going sideways but didn’t know how to stop it.

you stared at him.

expression unreadable. hands tucked in your hoodie pocket. one earbud still in. silent.

he swallowed hard, his cheeks going pink. “okay. so, that… came out a little worse than it sounded in my head.”

your eyebrow arched slightly, but you didn’t say a word.

“i just—” he rubbed the back of his neck, rain dripping from his sleeve, “i saw you the other day at the diner. you were, uh… telling off that guy.”

still nothing. just you, watching him like you were waiting to see if he’d embarrass himself further.

he would.

“i thought you were really cool,” he blurted. “not because you were mean to him! i mean, maybe a little because you were mean to him. he deserved it. but mostly because you just… said what you meant. and you didn’t pretend to be nice just to make him feel better. you were just… honest. i don’t know. that was pretty brave.”

that stopped you for half a second.

because you were used to people calling you names, assuming the worst, flinching away when you said something sharp. you weren’t used to people calling you brave. or honest. or… cool.

and especially not in the nervous, breathless tone of a boy who thought the world of you already.

you tilted your head slightly, assessing him now. he wasn’t like the other guys, the ones who swaggered or smirked, who complimented you like they expected something in return. he wasn’t trying to impress you. if anything, he looked like he might collapse under the weight of your silence.

“i’m embry,” he added quickly, as if realizing he hadn’t introduced himself. “embry call. i, um, live here. obviously. i mean—you probably figured that.”

you blinked at him. slowly.

“…you’re always this smooth?” you asked, voice calm.

he let out a laugh. an actual one this time, if a little sheepish. “no. definitely not. just with you, i guess.”

that made something twitch in your chest annoyingly soft. you ignored it.

still, you looked at him for a moment longer. he had kind eyes, warm and open even under the weight of his nerves. there was something in the way he stood. still and patient, even when your expression made it clear you weren’t about to make this easy. that tugged at you, just a little.

you tugged one earbud out. slowly.

“…and what exactly do you want from me, embry call?”

he blinked. “i—i don’t know. nothing. just… a chance to talk. maybe again. or now. if that’s okay.”

you stared at him. “you always walk up to random girls in the rain and ask to ‘maybe talk again’?”

“no,” he said, and his voice was softer now, steadier, “no, just you.”

that stupid twitch happened in your chest again.

you looked away.

your brain was screaming at you to shut it down, to say something cutting and walk away, to guard the part of you that was already a little too curious, a little too warm, but you didn’t.

instead, you turned your face toward the cloudy sky and muttered, “you’re getting soaked.”

embry blinked. “oh—uh. yeah. i guess i am.”

“you could’ve waited until it stopped raining before you gave that weird speech.”

“it was kind of a speech, wasn’t it?” he said with a nervous chuckle. “i had this whole… plan in my head. it was cooler in my head.”

you looked back at him, lips twitching.

not quite a smile. but not not a smile, either.

and embry lit up like you’d handed him the sun.

you cleared your throat. “i gotta go.”

“okay,” he said, quickly stepping back to give you space. “totally. that’s okay. but… maybe i could talk to you again sometime? if that’s not weird. or—if it is weird, i can just keep accidentally running into you until it’s not.”

you gave him a flat look.

he smiled nervously. “just kidding. kind of.”

there was a beat of silence.

then you turned, taking a few steps away before glancing over your shoulder to look at him one last time.

“…we’ll see.”

you didn’t wait for a response.

but behind you, embry stood in the rain, blinking like he’d just won the lottery. his heart flipping cartwheels, soaked sneakers squelching in puddles, but he didn’t care.

you hadn’t said no.

and in embry’s world, that was more than enough to try again tomorrow.

you didn’t look back.

not once. not when you heard his soft breath catch behind you, not when the rain soaked through your sleeves and made your hoodie cling to your arms like second skin. you didn’t turn around, not even when your feet slowed on instinct, or when your chest tightened like something invisible had wrapped around it and pulled.

but you felt him.

still standing there in the rain, still watching you walk away like he didn’t want to move until you were gone completely. like he wanted to stay rooted in that exact spot, just in case you changed your mind.

you hated that you knew that.

hated that it felt like your body had tuned itself to some new frequency. the strange, low hum of a boy with soft eyes and stupid, kind words that had no right burrowing into your chest the way they had. you hated that the sound of his voice kept playing back in your mind. that it didn’t make you roll your eyes. that it made you pause.

embry.

embry call.

even his name sounded too gentle for the world you lived in. too easy to say. too easy to remember.

you walked slower than you meant to. told yourself it was because the pavement was slick, because the rain made your shoes unsteady, not because your head was spinning with the way he’d looked at you like you were something soft, something worth understanding.

god. that look. that stupid, wide-eyed look like you’d hung the moon and didn’t even know it.

you hated that, too.

you’d spent years building this, this version of yourself that didn’t need anyone. the girl who didn’t care if she was misunderstood. who shrugged off gossip and met judgment with scorn. you’d perfected the sharp edge of your voice, the glare that warned people not to get too close. you’d become your own armor. and it worked.

until him.

because he hadn’t flinched. not once. not when you stared him down. not when you refused to smile, or speak, or make it easier for him. he just… stood there. honest and fidgety and hopeful. the kind of hopeful that made your stomach twist.

most guys got scared off before they could say two words. they called you names behind your back, tried to break you down. or worse, acted like they could fix you, like you were some bitter challenge that could be worn down with enough charm or persistence.

but embry wasn’t like that.

he was awkward. unfiltered. so obviously nervous he looked like he might pass out if you said anything remotely kind to him. but he didn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t. he didn’t try to “win” you over like it was some game.

he just saw you.

and you didn’t know what to do with that.

you weren’t used to being seen, really seen, and still being treated like you were worth something. most people only liked the parts of you that smiled at the right time. the versions of you that were easier to swallow. the quieter ones. the softer ones.

but he’d seen the fire. the sharpness. the way you looked at that guy in the diner like you were two seconds from setting him on fire. and he’d called you brave.

you weren’t brave.

you were defensive, guarded, alone by design.

so why had his words shaken you so badly?

why had your breath caught when he stammered out, “just with you, i guess,” like he didn’t mind being scared as long as it was you scaring him?

there was something about him, something slow and patient and unbearably sincere, that cracked into places you didn’t want anyone touching.

and worse? some tiny, buried part of you wanted him to stay, to keep looking at you like that. like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t too much after all.

you shut your bedroom door harder than necessary when you got home. tried to shake him from your thoughts like rainwater from your sleeves. you peeled off your soaked hoodie, tossed it onto the floor, and stared at the ceiling like maybe it held the answers to this strange, uncomfortable ache that had bloomed in your chest.

you didn’t like feeling like this. like you were teetering on some edge you hadn’t agreed to stand on.

but there it was.

his voice in your head. his soft little laugh. the way he smiled like he didn’t expect anything from you, just hoped you might stick around a little longer.

you curled into yourself beneath the covers, hoodie still damp against your back, and closed your eyes.

you didn’t mean to whisper his name.

you didn’t even realize you had until it slipped out, quiet and careful, into the dark.

“embry.”

you told yourself it didn’t mean anything.

just a name.

just a boy.

but something about it echoed.

and deep down, beneath the scar tissue and the sarcasm, you weren’t so sure you believed your own lie.

you didn’t mean to talk to him again.

you’d told yourself it was a one-time thing. a glitch in your otherwise strong defense system. the kind of slip-up that happened when you were caught off guard, cold and tired and not in the mood to fight back.

but then it happened again. and again.

always in places you’d never expect.

on your way home from school, he’d be leaning against the hood of some beat-up truck that wasn’t even his, grinning like he’d been waiting there all afternoon just for you. outside the library, he’d pop up out of nowhere, pretending he just happened to be walking by, his voice way too cheerful for the silence you were clinging to. at the edge of the cliffs, your cliffs, the one place you went when you wanted to be left the hell alone, there he was, plopping down beside you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

embry didn’t know how to be subtle. he didn’t glide in with smooth lines or practiced confidence. he bounded. he tripped over his words. his eyes lit up the second they found you, like you were a surprise gift he hadn’t expected to get.

sometimes he’d start talking so fast, tumbling through stories about his friends or some dumb thing he saw, just desperate to fill the silence. other times, he’d just sit there, jittery but content, like being near you was enough.

and the way he looked at you, god. that was the worst part. his brown eyes would go all soft and warm, and it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair how much he looked like a lovesick puppy who’d finally found the hand he wanted to follow home.

no matter how hard you tried to push him off, he’d show up again, tail-wagging in spirit if not in body. and little by little, against your will, you found yourself bracing less and less when you saw him coming.

you hadn’t meant to start looking for him. you hadn’t meant to scan the benches or corners or parking lots for that tall frame and sheepish smile. but you did.

you told yourself it was because you needed to stay alert, just in case. not because some ridiculous, warm little thread inside you missed him when he wasn’t around. not because something in you quieted when he was close, like your body was tuning to the sound of his voice before he even spoke.

and embry noticed. god, he noticed everything.

the way your posture relaxed now when he was near. the way your eyes didn’t flinch when they met his. the way you’d say his name now, under your breath like it was something more than just another word, something you hadn’t realized you liked the taste of until it was already on your tongue.

you’d always been good at keeping your distance. at wearing your cold like armor. most people stopped trying after a single sentence, but not him. not embry call with his puppy eyes and that cautious, shy smile that looked like it was meant just for you.

he just showed up, like the weather or the tide, and each time you let him linger a little longer without meaning to. without understanding why.

the next time you ran into him, you’d started to wonder if the universe had it out for you. or worse, that he was somehow orchestrating it, but that didn’t make sense.

he never felt calculated, never looked smug when you saw him. he just stood there like seeing you genuinely made his whole day and he didn’t know how to hide it.

this time, you sat beside him.

not close, not touching, but closer than you meant to. your shoulder just a few inches from his, the space between you charged in a way you couldn’t quite explain. the bench was cold and damp from the afternoon drizzle. you didn’t even remember making the decision to sit down, you just were.

one moment you were walking, hands jammed in your hoodie pocket, and the next you were beside him, glaring at the pavement like it had answers.

embry had seen you the second you stepped into view.

his entire face lit up like someone flipped a switch behind his eyes. his spine straightened, breath catching for half a second like the sight of you physically knocked it from his lungs. his expression softened, but his eyes stayed wide and nervous. like he was still trying to figure out if this was real. if you were real every time.

he didn’t even pretend not to notice you sitting down. he looked out of the corner of his eye, lips curling into the kind of smile that was less about charm and more about pure, helpless happiness because he knew what a big deal it was.

“i’m not staying long,” you muttered.

his smile only widened, blooming into something bright and boyish that hit you square in the chest. he bit his bottom lip like he was trying to physically stop himself from grinning too hard and nodded slowly. “okay,” he said.

that was it. no protest. no whining. just a quiet, accepting okay like he’d happily take whatever time you were willing to give him.

and for some reason, that made your chest ache.

you shifted a little uncomfortable, but not in a bad way, just in the way that happens when something new creeps in and takes up space, making a home where you swore you’d never let anyone stay.

he smelled like clean laundry and cedar and rain-soaked pine, and you hated that you noticed. hated more that you liked it.

you glanced sideways at him. he looked relaxed, almost. his leg bouncing a little, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve. he wasn’t looking at you, not for long. it was like he was trying to look casual even though he was clearly seconds away from bouncing like an overexcited puppy.

the worst part? he was trying. trying so hard not to scare you, not to push too much, not to overwhelm you. you could feel it radiating off him. that careful, quiet restraint, like every molecule in his body was tuned toward making you comfortable. like one wrong move might send you bolting.

and maybe it would have. a few weeks ago.

but not now.

now, you didn’t bolt when he spoke. now, you lingered.

now, you caught yourself breathing a little easier when he was near. something invisible inside you unclenched whenever he sat beside you and didn’t ask you to be anything but exactly who you were.

you hated it. or… you were supposed to.

but the truth was, for the first time in a long time, you felt safe and you didn’t understand why.

embry couldn’t sit still. he kept fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie, twisting the fabric between his fingers like it might save him from the nervous energy buzzing under his skin. his leg bounced against the ground in uneven taps, and every few seconds, his eyes betrayed him darting toward you, lingering just a beat too long, then darting away again.

it was like, to him, you were the sun. bright, impossible, a little dangerous to look at for too long. and no matter how much it burned, he couldn’t stop.

“you’re quiet today,” you said suddenly, your voice softer than you meant it to be. more observation than judgment.

embry blinked, caught off-guard. his head turned toward you, messy hair falling into his eyes. “oh. yeah, i just…” his words trailed off, his usual cheerfulness wasn’t there.

you tilted your head slightly, studying him, and the silence stretched. a flicker of worry pricked at your chest before forced yourself to look away.

“i’m trying not to make you uncomfortable,” he said after a pause, voice low and careful. his tone was stripped of the usual teasing warmth, as if he was walking a tightrope. “just… so you know.”

you turned your head slowly, eyes landing on him. he wasn’t looking at you this time. he was watching the trees across the street, like the moss-covered trunks were safer than your face. jaw clenched like he was holding himself back.

“you’re not,” you said.

and it surprised you. not just because you said it, but because it was true. you meant it.

embry’s head snapped toward you, startled. his eyes widened, and in an instant, the tension cracked. the way his face lit up wasn’t loud or dramatic. it was quiet, steady and honest. he didn’t try to hide the way that word made him feel.

something passed between you then, fragile and still. you didn’t move. you didn’t pull away. for once, you let the silence linger without building the walls back up.

you stayed.

the silence stretched again. it was that quiet, lingering kind. the kind that could’ve swallowed you both if you let it.

then, almost before you knew why you were saying it, the words slipped past your lips:

“my name’s y/n.”

you said it quietly, almost like it was a secret. you didn’t look at him. your gaze dropped to the pavement, heart pounding far too loudly for such a simple thing.

embry froze. you could feel it.

he blinked once, twice. his mouth opened, then closed again. and then, he smiled.

not just a smile. his whole face came alive with it, bright and unrestrained, like he couldn’t hold it back anymore even if he tried. his eyes softened, wide and shining, like you’d just told him the world wasn’t ending after all.

“y/n,” he repeated, so softly it felt like reverence.

you risked a glance at him from the corner of your eye and immediately regretted it, because the look on his face managed to undo you.

he looked… happy.

no, not just happy, delighted. he looked like someone who’d just been told he was allowed to breathe again.

“that’s…” he fumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish laugh. “yeah, that’s perfect.”

you felt yourself blush. stupid and quiet. you looked away.

“i figured i should stop being just ‘hey you,’” you muttered.

embry’s laugh burst out, bright and breathless and so real it made you want to smile, too. “hey you was kind of growing on me, though.”

you rolled your eyes, but the edge wasn’t there. you didn’t retreat, not this time.

instead, you let the moment be.

and when his knee bumped gently against yours, not on purpose, not quite, you didn’t pull away.

and that… that felt like a beginning.

[bambieyedoll]

Hi it says request closed but you are posting currently…are you available for request?

Girl take a break if you need it, you rock!

🥺🥺— hi, love. i knowww, i couldn’t write for a while because a lot of stuff was (and still is) going on in my life, and i accumulated tons of requests i just can’t say no to. so now i’m focused on slowly working on the request i already have. that’s why. i’m sorry it’s confusing.

[bambieyedoll]

Hiiiii!!!!! I love your works so much!!! I love that you’ve written for Quil since there is barely any out there! Could you do some more for him? Thank you! Ur the best!

hello love ! thank you so much for your support and kind words, it really means a lot. i just posted this headcanons with quil x deer shifter!reader. and don’t worry, i’ll keep the quil content coming. i hope this is okay for now, thank you for your patience ! mwah x🐰

[bambieyedoll]

omg after reading embrys headcannons with a fox shifter reader, i was imagining if you could do the same thing with quil, but with a deer shifter reader…!! bc y’know wolves eat deers so…lol! excited to see what you’ll write, xoxo

hi love ! thank you so much for reading my work and for sending your request. gosh, this dynamic is sooo good— i really enjoyed writing this. i’m so sorry you had to wait this long. it’s finally here ! i hope you like it, mwah x🐰

[bambieyedoll]

QUIL ATEARA HEADCANONS

his imprint is a deer shape shifter

𝒬uil never expected to imprint and when it happens, it’s with you, the last person the universe should have tied him to.

the first time he realizes you’re a shifter too, and not just any shifter but a deer, he suddenly laughs out loud. though not out of mockery. more like disbelief and shock. “of course. of course the universe thinks it’s funny. a wolf and a deer.” but behind the jokes, he’s instantly fascinated.

you’re gentle, sharp-eyed, and always slightly on guard, because… well, you’re a deer. the natural prey of his kind. the irony is not lost on anyone, least of all quil.

at first, he’s terrified he’s going to scare you off. the wolf inside him wants to stay close, to circle and guard you, but quil’s human brain is screaming “don’t be creepy, don’t stalk her, she’ll run away.”

but there’s something about your skittish, graceful nature that makes him want to slow down.

he knows you’re sensitive to sudden movements and heavy emotions, so he reins himself in just for you. he’s the one wolf who never storms in. he lingers, patient, always giving you space to come closer on your own terms.

he ends up hovering awkwardly, tripping over his own feet just trying to get near you.

at first, you keep your distance. it feels dangerous, even reckless, to be so drawn to him. but quil is persistent in his soft, steady way. he never pressures you, never pushes, just… waits. and the waiting makes you ache, because you can feel the pull too.

the pack does not let him live it down. paul jokes that quil’s wolf probably drools whenever you’re around. embry teases him mercilessly. “so quil… is venison your new favorite food now or?” quil nearly kills him for that one.

you notice right away how different quil is with you compared to the others. he’s goofy and easy-going with the pack, but with you? he’s almost nervous. he tries to play it cool, but you catch the way his hands tremble when you brush past him, or how his eyes track you like you might vanish.

you, meanwhile, are cautious. wolves and deer don’t mix. instinctually, your body tenses around him, your heartbeat quickens (not just from nerves but from pure shifter biology). but at the same time, you don’t understand why quil feels… safe. he should feel dangerous. but the moment his gaze softens, that warmth that radiates off him makes your instincts stutter in confusion.

quil’s yearning is painful. he’ll sit awake at night, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the impossible pull toward you. he wants to be close, to protect, but he’s terrified of making you feel trapped. he’s constantly second-guessing:

“am i too much? does she even want me around? god, she probably thinks i’m some creepy wolf waiting to eat her alive.”

the first time you shift near him, his wolf nearly bursts out of him. you in deer form is… breathtaking. fragile, elegant, otherworldly. he’s so terrified of moving wrong, of proving your instincts right, that he freezes in place just to let you approach on your terms. when you don’t run, when you let him sit there in silence while you graze near the treeline, his chest physically aches.

slowly, slowly, you start to trust him. it’s little things: you stop flinching when he sits beside you, you let your shoulder brush his when walking, you linger when he cracks a dumb joke instead of slipping away. quil notices everything.

he notices how your footsteps unconsciously follow his when you’re walking in the woods, how you seek the comfort of his presence even when you won’t admit it out loud.

quil has this way of balancing your instincts. you’re quick to run, but he never chases. you spook easily, but his steady warmth grounds you.

you’re the one who teaches him patience, and he’s the one who teaches you safety, that maybe being near a predator doesn’t have to mean danger.

you see the way quil’s eyes soften every time you shift back into your human form, how he averts his gaze like he’s seen something too precious to stare at for long.

he treats you with a reverence you don’t understand. you’ll laugh and call him dramatic, but he just shakes his head. “you don’t get it. you’re… you’re everything.”

the yearning is agonizing. quil will hover at the edge of your space, his hand twitching like he wants to reach for yours but never quite daring. his wolf howls for him to close the distance, but his respect for you makes him wait. always wait.

quil is achingly careful with you. when you’re human, he never hugs you too tightly, never holds on too long, though every part of him wants to. when you’re a deer, he keeps his distance, head tilted, eyes warm, like he’s guarding rather than stalking. he’d never forgive himself if he made you feel cornered.

eventually, though, you start testing the boundaries. you’ll let your fingers brush against his when you’re walking side by side, just to see if he pulls away (he doesn’t).

the slow burn stage is full of stolen glances, shared silences, the brush of fingers that lingers too long, the way his laughter softens whenever it’s directed at you.

he doesn’t just want you, he cherishes you.

there’s a moment, maybe after you get spooked and nearly shift in front of strangers, and quil shields you without hesitation, where something in you clicks. the irony doesn’t matter. the predator-prey instinct doesn’t matter. because you’ve never felt safer than in quil’s orbit.

when you finally lean into him, maybe resting your head on his shoulder by the bonfire, he swears he forgets how to breathe. quil goes completely still. his heart is hammering, his breath shaky, his whole body trying to contain the joy exploding inside him. he doesn’t even speak, because he’s terrified of breaking the moment. he just lets you stay there as long as you want, because in that moment he feels like he has everything he’s ever needed.

now that you’re together, the irony of wolf and deer has turned into an endless source of teasing, both from the pack and between yourselves.

quil loves to jokingly chase you during training runs, pretending he’s hunting, while you dart and weave effortlessly, laughing. but when he finally catches you, it’s gentle, almost protective, and your laughter dies into a soft sigh as he holds you close.

the first time you two share a proper, full embrace, it’s quiet and almost shy. quil’s arms wrap around you like he’s afraid to squeeze too hard and scare you, and your head fits perfectly into the crook of his neck.

neither of you speaks at first, just breathing each other in, the bond humming faintly between your chests. quil swears he can feel your heartbeat racing against his and secretly wonders how he survived this long without it.

you’ve started spending nights at his place. quil is gentle when he wakes up next to you, often brushing stray hairs behind your ear, tracing patterns on your back while you’re half-asleep. your soft nuzzles into his chest make him feel like the luckiest wolf alive.

and every morning, without fail, he’s the first to whisper, “morning, my deer.” and you giggle softly, turning over to press a sleepy kiss to his jaw.

quil loves to cuddle, though he pretends it’s casual. you often fall asleep against him, warm and safe, and he’ll stroke your hair or rub your back softly.

when you’re in your deer form, he’ll lie beside you, wolf body close but not crowding, and he finds the sight mesmerizing. your grace and softness calm his wildness.

the first proper kiss is slow, drawn-out, and full of hesitation. quil hovers over you, giving you the choice to move closer. you do. he melts against you, cupping your face, his lips gentle yet claiming, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

it’s the first time you feel your hearts sync completely, and the world seems to hold its breath with you.

he leaves tiny gifts for you. flowers picked from the woods, feathers, small trinkets. you hide them in your room, feeling cherished and understood. quil notices how your eyes light up at each one, and that small joy makes his chest ache with love and pride.

even after you’re together, quil’s wolf instincts flare constantly. if someone gets too close or acts threatening, he’s immediately tense, positioning himself slightly in front of you.

he’s careful not to overreact, though, he knows you can defend yourself, but the need to guard you is like a constant hum under his skin.

you tease him about it endlessly, but you secretly find it endearing, and sometimes you lean against him just to feel the strength beneath his calm exterior.

your dynamic flows like this: prey and predator, yes, but also protector and protected. patience and hesitation, steadiness and grace. you balance each other’s instincts, turning something impossible into something inevitable.

and though quil jokes about the irony every chance he gets, deep down he knows, it’s not a cruel joke at all. it’s fate. because nothing in the world has ever felt as right as being yours.

[bambieyedoll]

JASPER HALE HEADCANONS

jasper being jealous and possessive of you.

𝒥asper isn’t the kind of jealous that shows itself loudly at first. he’s quiet, sharp, a slow burn of tension that coils in his chest the second he notices someone’s eyes lingering on you for too long.

it’s subtle, the way his jaw tightens or his hand ghosts against your lower back, anchoring you closer without even realizing he’s doing it.

he’ll play it off as casual, but underneath he’s burning with the urge to rip the attention away from you.

his empathy makes it worse. he feels people’s attraction to you, their interest, their lingering desire like a physical weight pressing into him. he feels it before you even notice and it makes his entire body go rigid.

that’s when the desperate possessiveness really sinks in: because jasper isn’t just imagining it, he knows when someone is thinking about you the way only he should.

in public, especially around strangers, he’ll stay very close. the lightest brush of his fingers against yours, guiding you through a crowd, keeping you tucked in his side. it’s protective but with an undercurrent of desperation, like he’s terrified someone might slip you away from him if he lets go.

if you ever pull away from him in public, even for something small, like moving your hand to grab something, he’ll instantly feel a sting of panic. he’ll never voice it in front of others, but later, in private, he’ll admit in a low, almost ashamed voice:

“don’t let go like that again, darlin’. you hear me? you don’t do that to me.”

if you ever laugh at someone else’s joke, jasper feels it hit him like a punch in the ribs. not because he doesn’t want you happy, but because he can taste the smugness, the spark of interest from the other person.

and when someone flirts with you, jasper doesn’t say much. he doesn’t even have to.

one dark look from those golden eyes, sharp and warning, and suddenly the air feels suffocating around whoever dared speak too sweetly to you.

they walk away pale, unsettled, without ever realizing jasper was pressing fear into their chest until it overwhelmed them. he won’t admit it out loud, but he uses his gift to push people away from you if they get too close.

you notice it most in his silence afterward. how his gaze lingers on you with something raw, almost painful. like he can’t breathe until he hears you reassure him that you’re his.

“you don’t even see it, darlin’,” he murmurs, voice tight. “the way they look at you. drives me near insane.”

he isn’t proud of it. his past taught him the dangers of letting his instincts win, but when it comes to you? his control frays. he can’t stand the idea of losing you, of someone else even imagining touching you.

sometimes he gets so desperate it slips into his tone. low, pleading and rough. “just… tell me you’re mine. please, remind me before i lose my mind.”

at night, when it’s just you and him, all that tension unravels into an almost aching tenderness. he’ll hold you tight against him, arms wound firmly around you as if to ward off the entire world.

his lips press into your hairline, whispering in that soft southern drawl: “don’t leave me, sugar. i couldn’t take it.”

around the family, he tries to keep it hidden. he doesn’t want to look weak or unstable. but they notice. the way his eyes follow you across the room, the way he subtly shifts so you’re always within arm’s reach. alice teases him, but the truth is: his yearning runs bone-deep.

he loves when you wear his clothes. it quiets that aching burn in his chest. seeing you in his shirt or jacket makes him feel like you’re marked as his, even in a world where he can’t exactly bite you without consequence.

when you reassure him, touch his hand, look him in the eye or say his name, it softens him instantly. it’s like pulling him back from the edge. he lives for those moments of grounding, where his desperate possessiveness eases into quiet devotion.

but deep down, jasper knows: he’d raze the earth before he let anyone take you from him.

[bambieyedoll]

Dude I LOVE your work omg

IHHHH— thank you so much, love ! i promise i’m trying to be more active, i’ll continue to work on my requests. 🐰

[cursed-carmine]

✴︎ RIBBON DIVIDERS

ﾉ Please reblog & credit if you use!

For different colors just send me an ask please!

SAKURA

BLOSSOM

ROSES

PUMPKIN SPICE

[bambieyedoll]

HI ML!!! I was wondering where u go to fine the fonts/graphics/images for ur blog?? Thanks and if u don't know that's totally fine as well <3

hello, love ! of course, it’s no problem at all.

for the fonts, i always use messletters.com (math script royal) but there’s a lot of options you can choose from.

about the graphics/images, i use pinterest.

first, i search for good pictures of the character i’m posting for and also matching pics of a couple or just something that fits the writing plot. i usually search “yearning love”, “romance aesthetic”, etc.

when i finally have three pictures, i go to picsart and make a collage with the pictures being side by side. i choose the “x header” size and in border, i add thickness up to 20 & borders up to 20 as well. finally, i save the picture, add my filter and that’s all.

i hope this is helpful ! i also added the steps for the picsart part with pictures so it’s easier to follow. (btw, if there’s any symbol thingy you’d like to copy/paste from my blog, feel free to do it. ♡)

have a lovely day ! mwah x🐰

[bambieyedoll]

HI BABI ITS UR FAV JACOB REQUESTER

jacob x reader where reader wants like a cart of clothes or like her amazon cart and jacob tells her to go get his wallet

(saw this on tiktok and was obsessed)

hello love ! gosh, i’m so sorry for making you wait this long, i promise i’m trying. i love this scenario soooo much, it wasn’t hard to imagine jacob’s reaction. here it is ! i hope you like it. mwah ! 🐰x

[bambieyedoll]

GO GET MY WALLET

ֺּׅ⏦ﾟ ֺּׅ　　　⋆ ࣭ jacob black x 𝓯 reader ( fluff , small blurb )

determined to spoil you rotten, jacob will give you anything you want, no questions asked.

　　 　ℳasterlist — check out my other work !

it starts with a cart.

not a physical one. no, this one’s digital, loaded up with soft knits, cute tops, an unnecessary number of cardigans, and hello kitty pajama pants you definitely don’t need but desperately want. you’ve spent the last hour curled up on the couch with your phone, swiping and adding things to your amazon cart like it’s your full-time job.

meanwhile, jacob’s beside you on the floor, half-sprawled on a blanket like he was placed there by the gods. hoodie tugged up to expose a sliver of his toned stomach, head tilted lazily against a throw pillow, and a slow, cocky grin playing at his lips as he watches you with that unreadable expression he always gets when he knows exactly what you’re doing.

“are you done?” he drawls, voice dipped in honey and heat, eyes gleaming with amusement. “or you still collecting the entire fall collection?”

you hum, noncommittal. “i’m just… looking.” you said more to yourself than to him. the screen glowed softly in the dim room as your finger hovered over the newest addition to your cart.

jacob glanced down, his jaw tightening with a grin. “mmm. sure you are, baby.”

you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks were already heating.

“i am!” you tried defending yourself but then you murmured. “it’s not that bad.”

jacob raises an eyebrow, then casually stretches. long limbs pulling tight, his hoodie riding even higher, those golden abs catching in the light. your brain short circuits for a full three seconds before you snap out of it.

“that’s not fair,” you mutter, eyes narrowing. “you can’t weaponize stretching.”

you reached over to give his ribs a little poke, but he caught your wrist mid-air with that annoyingly fast reflex of his. he brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles, grinning against your skin.

“pretty sure i can. you’re the one who started this whole performance.”

“performance?”

“you keep biting your lip every time you see a sweater you like. how am i not supposed to watch that?”

you fling a pillow at him. he catches it one-handed, grinning wider now. “i’m just saying,” he shrugs, “you do this thing where you get all quiet, scroll with those puppy eyes, and then sigh like you’re being tortured.”

“some things are expensive!”

jacob shrugs again, like money’s never been a concern to him when it comes to you. “then don’t sigh. just let me buy it.”

you stare at him, a little stunned.

“jake, i’m not gonna use your money for that. you spoil me enough already.”

and okay, it’s true. he’s the type of boyfriend who pays attention. the type to memorize your favorite snacks and slip them into your bag. who buys you flowers not because it’s a special occasion but just because you looked stressed that day. the kind of guy who’ll drive 40 minutes to grab your favorite takeout because “you mentioned it earlier, and i was already out anyway.”

but this? buying a cart full of random clothes just because you were bored scrolling?

he leans his head back, looking at you upside down from his spot on the floor.

“let me spoil you.”

his voice is low. calm. ridiculously attractive. his arm is thrown over his head, muscles flexing just slightly, tattoos peeking out beneath the hem of his sleeve. you try not to stare at the curve of his jaw or the way his lashes fan against his cheek.

you fail.

“i mean it,” he says again. “go get my wallet.”

your lips part. “jake—”

he lifts a brow, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth like he knows what this is doing to you. “go get my wallet, baby.”

you blink. slowly.

then, because you’re feeling bold (and maybe because his shirt is riding way too high), you say, “what if i told you i added a $300 pair of boots to the cart?”

jacob sits up.

like, really sits up. one leg bent, arms resting on his knee, smirk fully blooming into that devastating grin that always makes your stomach swoop.

he doesn’t even hesitate.

“i’ll get it for you. you want the matching bag?”

you stare at him, jaw dropped.

“you are insane.”

he shrugs, then pats his thigh. “come here.”

you climb into his lap with a sigh that’s half-mock exasperation and half heart-thudding affection. he wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you in, pressing his lips to your shoulder like he can’t help it.

“you deserve everything in that cart,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “and then some more.”

your heart does that embarrassing flip thing it always does when he gets soft. you bury your face in his neck.

“you’re dangerous when you lay around looking all cozy like that. that’s cheating.”

he laughs, chest rumbling beneath your hands. “oh, i’m dangerous? you’re the one who just kissed me into next week the last time i bought you socks.”

you pull back with a grin. “don’t tempt me.”

he tilts his head, eyes dark. “oh, baby. i am.”

and something about that look, the way he was practically daring you to make a move, did something to you.

you kiss him. hard. greedy. not the usual sweet, lazy kisses you shared when you were curled up and half-asleep. this one was hungry, all gratitude and fire and joy rolled into one.

a little laugh slipping from your mouth as he fumbles to keep up, clearly surprised, but only for a second. he groans low in his throat, and takes over. one hand slid behind your neck, the other gripping your waist, taking full control.

he kisses you like he’d been waiting for it all night. like you had just ignited something he didn’t know he was holding back.

and when you finally pull away for air, flushed and breathless, he’s staring at you like you just flipped his whole world upside down.

“jesus,” he mutters. “add more stuff to the cart.”

you laugh, heart light and full, and whisper against his lips, “you go get your wallet.”

he’s up before you can blink.