Summary: Deep in the forests of La Push, Paul Lahote encounters a mysterious fairy girl hidden beneath the trees â glowing wings, ancient magic, and a presence capable of calming the rage heâs carried for years. What begins as suspicion quickly becomes something far more dangerous when Paul realizes heâs imprinted on her.
The first time Paul Lahote saw her, he thought she was a hallucination.
It was nearly midnight in the forests surrounding La Push, the air wet with rain and salt from the ocean cliffs. Paul had shifted hours ago after another pointless argument with Jared and Embry, and he was still too angry to go home. The wolf inside him paced beneath his skin like a living storm.
That was when he caught the scent.
Not vampire.
Not human.
Something green and sweet and cold, like flowers after a thunderstorm.
Paul moved silently through the trees until he reached a small clearing hidden beneath towering pines. The moment he stepped into it, the wind died completely.
And there she was.
Standing barefoot in the center of the clearing, glowing silver beneath the moonlight.
Her dress drifted around her legs like mist, pale green fabric threaded with tiny gold leaves. Delicate wings shimmered behind her back, translucent and veined with light. Fireflies floated around her hands as though they belonged to her.
Paul froze.
The girl looked up slowly.
Huge eyes met his.
For one impossible second, the entire world stopped.
Imprinting felt nothing like people described.
It wasnât lightning.
It wasnât fireworks.
It felt like the earth splitting open beneath him.
Every sound disappeared except her breathing. Every instinct inside him suddenly rearranged itself around one single truth:
Her.
The wolf inside him immediately went still.
The girl tilted her head, studying the massive russet wolf crouched at the edge of the clearing. Instead of fear, curiosity flickered across her face.
âYouâve been following me for three nights,â she said softly.
Paul blinked.
Then realized she could understand him.
He shifted back instantly.
One second there was a wolf, the next a tall shirtless boy stood barefoot in the mud, breathing hard. âYou knew?â
âI can hear your thoughts when youâre transformed.â Her lips curved slightly. âThey are very loud.â
Paulâs face burned red immediately. âGreat.â
The girl smiled fully then, and Paul genuinely forgot how to breathe.
âYou are Paul Lahote,â she said.
âHow do you know that?â
âThe forest does.â
That answered absolutely nothing.
Paul crossed his arms. âOkay, now youâre sounding creepy.â
âYou were less rude in your thoughts.â
âIâm always rude.â
âI noticed.â
She stepped closer, moonlight catching against her wings. Up close, she barely looked real. Tiny glowing freckles dusted her cheeks, and silver vines curled around her wrists like bracelets.
Paulâs heartbeat went feral.
âWhat are you?â he asked quietly.
âA fairy.â
He stared at her.
âThatâs not a joke?â
âNo.â
ââŚRight.â
âYou donât believe me?â
âYou have wings.â
âYes.â
âAnd youâre glowing.â
âYes.â
âBut saying âIâm a fairyâ sounds insane.â
Her laughter rang through the clearing like music.
And somehow, impossibly, it calmed every violent thing inside him.
Paul frowned immediately. âWhat did you just do?â
âI laughed?â
âNo. That.â He pointed at her accusingly. âWhatever magic thing that was.â
Her expression softened slightly. âYou are angry all the time.â
âThatâs just my personality.â
âNo,â she said gently. âItâs pain.â
The words hit harder than they should have.
Paul looked away first.
The silence stretched between them, filled only by distant waves crashing against the cliffs.
Then she reached toward him slowly.
Every instinct screamed at him to move. Wolves didnât trust unknown creatures. Sam would lose his mind if he found out about this.
But Paul stayed still.
Her fingertips brushed his wrist.
Warm light spread beneath his skin instantly.
The constant buzzing anger in his chest quieted.
Not disappeared.
Just⌠softened.
Paul inhaled sharply. âHoly shit.â
âYou carry too much rage,â she murmured. âIt hurts you.â
Nobody had ever said it like that before.
Usually people told him to control himself. To stop snapping. Stop yelling. Stop losing control.
But she looked at him like anger was an injury instead of a flaw.
âWhatâs your name?â he asked.
The fairy hesitated.
Then, softlyâ
âY/N.â
Paul repeated it under his breath like something sacred.
And for the first time in years, the storm inside him eased.
â
âYou disappeared for six hours!â
Jacob Black looked ready to strangle him as Paul walked into the pack meeting the next morning.
âWe thought you got yourself killed,â Embry added.
Paul ignored them completely, grabbing a soda from the fridge.
Sam narrowed his eyes immediately. âWhy are you smiling?â
Paul nearly choked.
âI am not smiling.â
âYou literally skipped in here,â Jared said.
âI did not skip.â
âYouâre doing it right now,â Jacob said.
Paul stopped himself mid-step.
Crap.
The truth was worse than any of them could imagine.
Because ever since meeting Y/N, everything felt different.
Colors looked brighter.
The constant pressure in his head felt quieter.
Even shifting felt easier somehow.
And every second away from her made his chest ache.
âSheâs dangerous,â Sam warned after Paul finally admitted there was âsomeoneâ in the woods.
âSheâs not.â
âYou donât know that.â
âI do know that.â
âYou imprinted,â Jacob realized suddenly.
The room went silent.
Paul glared at the floor.
Embryâs jaw dropped. âNo way.â
âOn who?â Jared asked immediately.
Paul stayed quiet.
Then Jacobâs eyes widened in horror.
ââŚWhy do I smell flowers?â
Paul froze.
The back door creaked open softly.
Every wolf in the room tensed instantly.
Y/N stood in the doorway, silver wings folded behind her back. Sunlight spilled across her glowing skin while tiny white flowers bloomed beneath her bare feet against the wooden floorboards.
The entire pack stared.
âHoly crap,â Embry whispered.
Y/Nâs eyes immediately found Paul.
And she smiled.
That same impossible calm spread through him again.
Sam stepped protectively in front of the others. âWhat are you?â
âA friend,â she answered softly.
âNo offense,â Jared muttered, âbut you look like the kind of thing that lures people into lakes.â
âI did that once,â Y/N admitted thoughtfully.
Paul barked out a laugh while everyone else looked horrified.
âSheâs kidding,â he said.
Y/N glanced at him innocently.
ââŚMostly.â
âAwesome,â Jacob said weakly.
Sam still looked suspicious. âWhy are you here?â
Y/N looked at Paul.
âI came because he was hurting.â
The room fell quiet.
Paul suddenly wished the floor would swallow him alive.
But Y/N simply walked toward him without hesitation.
The wolves tensed again as she stopped directly in front of Paul and gently touched his cheek.
Light flickered beneath her fingertips.
And for the first time since becoming a shapeshifter, Paulâs mind went completely quiet.
No anger.
No violent instincts.
No constant pressure to explode.
Just peace.
Paul stared at her in shock.
Y/N smiled softly. âBetter?â
His throat tightened unexpectedly.
âYeah,â he whispered.
Around them, the pack watched in stunned silence.
Because nobody â nobody â had ever been able to calm Paul Lahote before.
But somehow this strange glowing fairy standing in the middle of their kitchen had done it with one touch.
And judging by the way Paul looked at her, everyone in the room realized the same thing at once.
He would burn the entire world down for her if she asked.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.
Could you do a Jacob x reader where the reader has come down to forks with Rachel because theyâre friends and study the same degree. Jacob imprints on her, but when he confesses theres angst as the reader is too scared to get into a relationship (past messy breakup with a cheating ex maybe) but Jacob assures the reader as he knows what itâs like to be picked last/not have your feelings considered. happy ending!!
Picked First, Always
Pairing: Jacob Black x Reader
Summary: You come to Forks for a fresh startâsame degree as Rachel Black, same classes, a quiet place to rebuild after a breakup that taught you love can lie. You donât come for Jacob. Jacob doesnât get a choice. The moment he sees you, he imprintsâand when he finally tells you, you donât melt into his arms the way stories say you should. You flinch. You run. Jacob, who knows what it is to be overlooked and left behind, meets your fear with patience instead of pressure.
Forks is the kind of place where the sky sits low enough to press against your shoulders.
Everything is damp. The air, your hair, the cuffs of your jeans, the ends of your thoughts. Even your lungs feel like theyâre learning how to breathe differentlyâslower, quieter, like youâre not allowed to take up too much space here.
Rachelâs car smells like vanilla coffee and old textbooks.
âOkay,â she says, tapping the steering wheel like sheâs trying to shake the tension out of you. âGround rules: we are not romanticizing the rain. We are not falling into some moody indie spiral. We are here for our degree, we are here for our future, and we are here to pass Professor Hargrove without crying.â
You let out a laugh thatâs more breath than sound. âBold of you to assume I wonât cry.â
âYou can cry,â Rachel says immediately, like sheâs already decided youâre allowed to be human. âBut youâre not doing it alone.â
Thatâs the whole reason you came.
Not because Forks is charming. Not because you needed a change of scenery.
Because Rachel offered you something no one else did after the breakup: consistency.
No pity. No lectures. No I told you so. Just, come here. Start over. Iâve got you.
You try not to think about how the last place you âstarted overâ ended with your phone lighting up at 2:17 a.m.âa message from a girl you didnât know, a screenshot you couldnât unsee, and the sudden understanding that the person you loved had been loving someone else behind your back like it was normal.
Like you were optional.
Forks isnât supposed to be about that.
Forks is supposed to be about not feeling like youâre bleeding where everyone can see it.
⸝
Rachelâs house is warm in a way that makes you ache.
Not because itâs fancyâbecause it isnât. Because it looks lived-in. Because thereâs a basket of mismatched socks by the couch and a dish towel thrown over a chair like someone forgot it in a hurry. Because thereâs food on the stove and laughter on the walls.
You stand in the doorway with your suitcase and your carefully controlled smile.
Youâre trying to be polite.
Trying to be easy.
Trying to be the kind of guest who doesnât take up space.
Rachel nudges your shoulder. âRelax. This is home. If you look too nervous, my mom will feed you until you canât move.â
You swallow, nod, follow her in.
Itâs fine. You can do this. You can handle a new town, a new semester, a new routine.
You can handle anything that doesnât involve letting someone close enough to hurt you again.
Then the front door opens behind you.
You donât even turn at first. You only hear the shift of air, the heavy footsteps, the familiar sound of someone who belongs here moving through the space like itâs theirs.
And thenâ
âRachel, youââ
The voice cuts off.
You look over your shoulder.
Jacob Black is standing there, halfway inside the doorway, rain in his hair, shoulders broad enough to block out half the light behind him. His cheeks are pink from the cold. His hands are fullâsome grocery bag, a hoodie, keys clutched in his fist like he forgot what they were for.
His mouth is still slightly open like he was about to tease his sister.
But his eyes are on you.
And itâsâ
Itâs not the casual glance of a stranger.
Itâs not even interest.
Itâs like he got hit.
Like something inside him clicked into place so fast his body didnât catch up in time.
Youâve read enough local rumors to know what imprinting is.
But no one ever tells you what it looks like on someoneâs face.
Jacobâs expression goes still and stunned, like the world has turned into static and youâre the only clear thing left.
Your heart trips.
Not because itâs romantic.
Because itâs familiar.
Because youâve seen devotion before. Youâve seen that look.
And youâve also seen what comes after it when the person wearing it decides they want something else.
Rachel doesnât notice at first. Sheâs too busy talking, too busy being normal. âJake, donât just stand there like a statueâthis is my friend, remember? The one I told you about? Same degree, same program. This isââ
Your name lands between you like a fragile thing.
Jacob blinks. Once. Twice.
His throat moves like heâs swallowing something painful.
âHey,â he manages, voice rougher than it should be for a greeting.
âHi,â you answer automatically.
And even though itâs just one word, your body goes alertâlike itâs bracing for impact.
Because something in his gaze makes you feel⌠seen.
And being seen has never been safe.
⸝
You try to keep your distance after that.
You do what you always do when your heart starts acting like it doesnât remember the rules: you lock it down.
You focus on class schedules, shared study sessions, coffee runs, the kind of friendship that doesnât require vulnerability.
Rachel is easy to be around. Rachel is solid. Rachel doesnât ask you to be anything but present.
Jacob, unfortunately, is a problem.
Not because heâs rude.
Because heâs kind in a way that doesnât feel accidental.
Because he notices things you work hard to hide.
He learns your routine without you telling himâwhat time you leave for campus, where you like to sit in the library, how you chew on the inside of your cheek when youâre stressed, how you get quiet when something hits too close to home.
He doesnât comment on it.
He just adjusts around you like itâs instinct.
Like itâs natural.
Thereâs always a chair pulled out at the table when you come downstairs late. Always a pencil waiting when you forget yours. Always an extra snack left âby accidentâ near your laptop.
And the worst part is: he never makes it feel like a debt.
He never says look what I did for you.
He acts like you deserve softness the way people deserve oxygen.
It makes you want to cry.
It makes you want to run.
Because your ex used to be thoughtful, tooâat first.
He used to remember your favorite candy and the way you liked your music loud in the car.
Until he stopped.
Until you realized his âthoughtfulnessâ was an effort he only made when he was trying to win you.
Jacob doesnât feel like heâs trying to win.
Jacob feels like heâs just⌠there.
Consistent.
Steady.
And you donât know what to do with a boy who doesnât disappear when you donât perform happiness for him.
⸝
Itâs a Tuesday when it breaks.
Because itâs always a weekday. Always when youâre tired enough to be honest by accident.
Rachel has a study group. The house is loud with voices and papers and laughter. You try to participate. You try to focus.
But Jacob keeps glancing at you like heâs holding something back.
Like thereâs a word lodged behind his teeth and itâs cutting him from the inside.
You catch him watching you and your chest tightens.
Not because you hate the attention.
Because it feels like the moment before a fall.
So you slip away.
You grab your jacket, mumble an excuse, step outside into the wet air like it can rinse you clean.
You walk until the sound of the house fades.
Until thereâs only forest and rain and your own thoughts trying to drown you.
You donât notice the footsteps at first.
But you feel him.
Somehow you feel him before you hear him.
âHey,â Jacob says, soft, careful. Like heâs approaching something skittish.
You stop under the shelter of a thick evergreen. Water drips from the needles in steady taps.
You donât turn right away. âYou didnât have to follow me.â
âI know,â he says.
A pause.
âI wanted to.â
You exhale, bitter little laugh. âRachel put you on escort duty?â
âNo.â
Thereâs a weight in that one word that makes your stomach drop.
You turn, finally.
Jacobâs standing a few feet away. Hands in his pockets. Shoulders tense. Eyes⌠dark, like he hasnât slept properly in weeks.
He looks like someone trying to hold back the tide with his bare hands.
âJacob,â you say, wary, âwhatâs going on?â
He swallows. His throat moves like it hurts.
âIâve been trying not to do this,â he admits, voice low. âBecause you didnât ask for it. Because you just got here. Because youâreââ
He cuts himself off like he doesnât know how to say something without scaring you.
Your heart starts beating too fast.
You already know. You know before he says it.
But knowing doesnât make it easier.
âI imprinted,â he says quietly.
The world doesnât explode.
The trees donât shake.
The rain keeps falling like nothing has changed.
But your chestâ
Your chest goes tight like someone wrapped a hand around your ribs.
You donât know how to respond, because the word feels bigger than you. Like it comes with expectations. Like it comes with a script youâre supposed to follow.
Like youâre supposed to be grateful.
Like youâre supposed to say yes.
Jacob watches your face like heâs bracing for pain. âIâm sorry. I didnât want to make you feel trapped.â
You flinch at the word trapped, even though he didnât mean it like that.
Your body moves before your brain doesâyou take a step back.
Jacobâs expression shifts, hurt flashing quick and sharp.
You hate yourself for it immediately.
âDonât,â you say, voice shaking. âDonât look at me like that.â
âLike what?â he asks, too quiet.
âLike IâmâŚâ You swallow. Your throat burns. âLike Iâm something you canât lose.â
Because that is the most terrifying thing someone can make you.
Jacobâs brow furrows, confusion folding into something softer. âWhy would that be scary?â
You laugh, but it breaks. âBecause Iâve been that before.â
Jacob goes still.
You donât want to say it. You donât want to drag your past into the forest like a bleeding animal.
But itâs already in your mouth.
âMy ex cheated,â you say.
Jacobâs jaw clenches.
âAnd I didnât find out from him.â Your voice thins. âI found out because the other girl got tired of being the secret.â
Jacobâs hands curl in his pockets like heâs holding himself together.
You stare at the wet ground because if you look at him you might fall apart.
âI thought I was loved,â you whisper. âI thought I was chosen. I thought I was⌠enough.â
Your throat tightens.
âAnd then it was likeâlike I was always second. Like I was a placeholder until something better showed up.â
Silence.
The rain sounds louder.
When you look up, Jacobâs eyes are burning with something painful.
Not pity.
Not judgment.
Recognition.
âI know what that feels like,â he says.
You blink, thrown.
He huffs a bitter breath. âBeing second. Being an afterthought. Watching someone pick someone else and telling yourself itâs fine because youâre used to it.â
His voice roughens, like itâs scraping against old wounds. âI spent a long time being the guy people liked when they couldnât have the person they actually wanted.â
Your chest aches.
He takes a careful step closerâslow, deliberateâlike heâs trying not to spook you.
âIâm not going to do that to you,â he says. âIâm not going to make you feel like you have to compete for space in my life.â
You shake your head, tears threatening. âYou canât promise that.â
âI can,â Jacob says, immediate, fierce in a way that makes your breath catch. âBecause youâre not a placeholder to me.â
Your heart stutters. Your hands go cold.
You whisper, âYou donât even know me.â
Jacobâs gaze doesnât waver.
âI know enough,â he says. âI know you flinch when someone raises their voice. I know you apologize when you donât need to. I know you act like youâre fine when youâre not, and you think if youâre small enough you wonât be a problem.â
Your throat closes.
Heâs right.
And it terrifies you that heâs right.
âIâm not asking you to jump into anything,â Jacob says, voice softening. âIâm not asking you to trust me overnight. Iâm not asking you to give me your heart right now.â
A beat.
âIâm asking you to let me be patient with you.â
Tears spill before you can stop them. You swipe at your cheeks angrily.
âI donât want to be stupid again,â you choke.
Jacobâs expression cracks. He looks like he wishes he could take the pain out of your body with his hands.
âYou werenât stupid,â he says. âYou loved someone. Thatâs not stupid.â
You let out a broken sound. âIt feels stupid.â
He shakes his head, slow. âIt feels like grief,â he corrects. âAnd fear. And the part of you thatâs trying to protect you.â
You squeeze your arms around yourself, shaking. âI canât do a relationship.â
Jacob nods instantly. No argument. No disappointment.
âOkay,â he says.
The simplicity of it makes you stare at him.
âThatâs it?â you whisper.
âThatâs it,â Jacob repeats. âYou set the pace. Iâll follow it.â
You donât know what to do with someone who doesnât fight you for access to your life.
Your voice trembles. âAnd if I never get there?â
Jacob exhales slowly. âThen Iâll still be here,â he says. âNot to guilt you. Not to corner you. Just⌠here.â
He looks up at the gray sky like itâs too heavy, then back at you like youâre the only thing worth holding onto.
âIâm used to being picked last,â he says quietly. âBut with you, itâs different.â
Your breath catches.
âBecause I didnât pick you,â he admits. âNot the way people choose. It just happened.â
He takes another careful step closer, stopping when heâs close enough that you can feel the heat coming off him, but not so close that you feel trapped.
âAnd I know how scary that is,â he says. âTo feel like someoneâs sure when youâre still bleeding.â
Your eyes sting.
âSo we do it your way,â Jacob says. âSlow. Safe. Honest.â
He pauses, then adds, voice almost breaking:
âBut I need you to hear me when I say this, okay?â
âYou will never have to beg me to choose you,â he says. âYou will never have to wonder if youâre enough. You will never be second.â
Your heartbeat is loud in your ears.
You want to believe him so badly it hurts.
Your voice comes out in a whisper. âI donât know how to trust someone who says things like that.â
Jacobâs expression softens into something achingly gentle.
âThen donât trust my words yet,â he says. âTrust my pattern.â
A pause.
âLet me show you,â he adds. âLet me be consistent until your body stops bracing for the hit.â
You press a hand to your chest because it physically achesâlike something inside you is trying to crack open and you donât know if itâs safe.
âI canât promise I wonât panic,â you admit.
Jacob nods. âThen panic,â he says, like itâs allowed. âAnd Iâll still be here after.â
Your eyes blur.
For a second, you let yourself imagine itâlove that doesnât punish you for being afraid. Love that doesnât leave because youâre not perfect. Love that meets you where you are.
You look at Jacobâthis boy with warmth in his skin and patience in his voiceâand your fear doesnât vanish.
But it shifts.
It makes room for something else.
You draw a shaky breath. âI want you in my life,â you say carefully. âJust⌠not fast. Not intense. Notââ
âNot like a trap,â Jacob finishes softly.
You nod, relief and terror mixing in your throat.
Jacobâs smile is small, but real. âThen thatâs what itâll be,â he says. âNo trap.â
He hesitates, then offers, like heâs asking permission with every syllable:
âCan I walk you back?â
You nod again, because the thought of walking alone suddenly feels heavier than it did five minutes ago.
Jacob falls into step beside youânot too close, not too far.
Like heâs learned the distance that feels safe.
And as you walk through the rain back toward the house, you realize something you didnât expect:
He isnât trying to pull you into a love story.
Heâs trying to give you a place to breathe.
And for the first time since the night you learned love could lie, your body loosens just a littleâlike maybe, with time, you could learn what it feels like to be chosenâŚ
and not have to flinch waiting for the moment it gets taken away.
Disclaimer:
I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.
I love your blog so much! Especially the Embry ones :P So I was wondering if you could write some fluffy cuddles with chronically cold reader with her human furnance of a boyfriend Embry.
Human Furnace
Pairing: Embry Call x Reader
Summary: Youâre always cold. Embry is always warm. The solution? Cuddles. Constantly.
Warnings: Pure fluff, cuddling, teasing, soft kisses, warmth/comfort, slight mentions of chronic coldness.
⸝
It started the way it always didâyour hands tucked into the sleeves of your hoodie, shoulders hunched, trying to pretend you werenât freezing.
Forks wasnât even that cold today. Not really.
But your body didnât care about logic. Your body cared about the fact that the air felt like it had teeth.
Embry spotted you from the couch the second you stepped into the living room, and his eyes narrowed like he was doing the fastest scan in history.
You didnât even get to speak before he was already sitting up.
âStop,â he said.
You blinked. âStop what?â
âStop acting like youâre fine when you look like a sad little ice cube.â
âI do notââ
Embry held out his hand. âCâmere.â
You hesitated, pride fighting for its life.
Embry raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his mouth. âDonât make me come get you.â
That did it. Because if he did come get you, heâd scoop you up like you weighed nothing and carry you around like a trophy.
So you shuffled overâslowly, like you werenât already dying for warmth.
Embry grabbed your wrist gently, his palm hot against your skin, and you swear your whole body sighed.
âOkay,â you muttered. âMaybe Iâm a little cold.â
âA little?â Embryâs eyes dropped to your hands, and his expression changedâless teasing, more soft.
He pulled you closer and pressed your fingers between both of his hands like he could physically transfer heat into you.
âYouâre freezing,â he said, voice low.
âIâm not freezing,â you tried again, but it came out weak, because you were already leaning in.
Embryâs mouth twitched. âBabe⌠youâre like a fancy popsicle.â
âI hate you.â
âNo, you donât.â He tugged you right into his lap.
The heat hit you instantlyâlike stepping into sunlight after being stuck in the shade too long. His body was always warm, always too warm, the kind of warmth that made you think the laws of nature didnât apply to him.
You melted into him without meaning to.
Embry wrapped both arms around you, locking you against his chest, like heâd been waiting all day for this exact moment.
âThere,â he murmured, nuzzling your temple. âProblem solved.â
You tried to hold onto your attitude, you really did.
But Embryâs hands slid under your hoodieâwarm palms against your sidesâand you practically folded.
âYouâre so dramatic,â you whispered, but your voice was already soft.
Embry chuckled. âYouâre the dramatic one. Iâm just being a good boyfriend.â
âA good boyfriend,â you echoed, skeptical.
Embry tilted his head, lips brushing your ear when he spoke. âA good boyfriend who refuses to let his girl turn into an icicle.â
Your face heated. âEmbry.â
âWhat?â he said innocently, squeezing you tighter. âItâs true.â
You tried to shift, like maybe you could sit up and regain some dignity, but Embryâs arms tightened immediatelyâstrong, secure, unmovable.
âOh no,â he said. âDonât even think about escaping.â
âI wasnâtââ
âYou were.â
You sighed, giving in, and rested your cheek on his chest. His heartbeat was steady under your ear, and the warmth was so comfortable it made your eyelids heavy.
Embryâs fingers traced lazy circles along your back.
âYou know,â he said thoughtfully, âwe should start rating how cold you are every day.â
You cracked one eye open. âAbsolutely not.â
âLike a scale,â he continued, ignoring you completely. âOne is âslightly chilly.â Ten is âI need to wrap you in three blankets and legally declare you my responsibility.ââ
âIâm not your responsibility.â
Embry hummed. âCouldâve fooled me.â
You glared up at himâexcept it wasnât a real glare, because he was smiling like heâd already won.
âYouâre enjoying this,â you accused.
Embry shrugged. âMaybe.â
Then he leaned down and kissed your forehead. Slow. Gentle. Like he wasnât in a rush to be anywhere else.
âI like taking care of you,â he admitted quietly, like it was the simplest truth in the world.
Your chest squeezed.
You tried to respond, but Embryâs hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, thumb brushing the edge of your jaw, and he kissed your temple againâsoft, lingering.
âYou feel better?â he asked.
You didnât want to be cheesy. You really didnât.
But your body was warm now. Your fingers werenât stiff. Your shoulders werenât tense.
And Embry was holding you like you belonged there.
So you whispered, âYeah.â
Embry smiled against your hair. âGood.â
You stayed like that for a minuteâtwoâten.
The room was quiet except for the rain tapping the windows, and Embryâs warmth pressed into you from every side.
Then Embryâs voice rumbled again, amused.
âYouâre falling asleep.â
âIâm not.â
âYou are.â
âIâm resting.â
Embry laughed softly, and his arms tightened in a slow squeeze, like a promise.
âGo ahead,â he murmured. âIâve got you.â
Your eyes fluttered closed without permission.
You mumbled, half-asleep, âYouâre too hot.â
Embryâs lips brushed your cheek.
âYeah,â he whispered, smiling. âThatâs kinda the point.â
Disclaimer:
I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.
Sam notices the shift in the air before anyone else does.
It happens on patrolârain-heavy woods, the scent of blood too sharp, and one of the wolves limping hard because a hunterâs trap caught deep. The pack is tense, wild-edged. Samâs voice is steady, but his eyes are storm-dark.
âHold still,â you say, stepping forward.
Paul starts to protest. Jared reaches for the metal jaws.
Sam lifts a hand. âWait.â
Because Sam can feel itâsomething ancient in the way the forest quiets around you, the way even the wind seems to listen.
You kneel. You donât touch the trap.
You look at it.
And the metal unclenches like itâs afraid to disobey.
The wolfâs wound stops bleeding. Not magically âgone,â not erasedâjust⌠calmed, closed enough to survive.
Nobody speaks.
Samâs voice comes out low. Careful. âDo that again.â
You swallow. âSamââ
âDo it again,â he repeats, not as an order, but as proof. Like he needs to know if heâs about to protect his family from you⌠or protect you from the world.
A branch creaks. A deer freezes mid-step. The whole forest holds its breath.
You open your palm and whisper a word that tastes older than language.
A ring of warmth blooms through the fernsâgentle, controlled, unmistakably not human.
Sam exhales like it hurts.
âWhat are you?â he asks.
You meet his eyes. âA goddess.â
The pack shifts, startled. But Sam doesnât step back. He steps inâclose enough that if you were danger, heâd be the first to take it.
His chin dips. Respectful. Not worship.
âOkay,â he says, voice firm like law. âThen we do this the same way we do everything else. Together.â
Later, when itâs quiet, he finds you alone and says, âYou donât get to carry that alone in my territory. Not anymore.â
Relationship vibe: protective leader + equal partner in responsibility. He treats your divinity like a fact, not a pedestal. If romantic, itâs steady devotion and âchoose you every dayâ love.
JACOB BLACK â âYou Shouldâve Told Meâ
Jacob finds out in the worst way: by almost losing someone.
Itâs chaosâtoo many scents, too much adrenaline. A vampireâs been too close to the line. The pack is scattered, fighting the perimeter.
And youâsweet, stubborn youâstep between the threat and the people Jacob loves.
âMove!â Jacob yells, heart in his throat.
You donât.
Your eyes flashâgold, bright as sunrise on snowâand the air slams into the vampire like an invisible wave, pinning them to the trees with a force that doesnât feel like muscle.
It feels like judgment.
The vampire hisses, frozen, trembling.
Jacob stops short, breath ragged. âWhat⌠what the hell was that?â
You blink, like you forgot you were hiding. Like you forgot you were allowed to be small.
âJacob, I can explain.â
He laughs onceâsharp, disbelieving. Then his voice breaks. âYou couldâve gotten hurt.â
âI wasnât going to.â
âThatâs not the point!â he snaps, then steps in close, hands hovering like he doesnât know if heâs allowed to touch you now. Like you might turn to lightning under his palms.
âYouâreââ he stares at you. âYouâre not human.â
You flinch. âI didnât want you to look at me different.â
Jacobâs eyes go wet with anger that isnât about you being a goddess.
And when the pack gathers, Jacob positions himself half a step in front of you out of habitâlike he can shield the divine from anything.
Like heâs willing to try.
Relationship vibe: intense loyalty, protective to a fault, emotional anchor. If romantic, itâs fierce, warm, and âIâll fight fate with my bare hands.â
LEAH CLEARWATER â âI Refuse to Bowâ
Leah figures it out before you say a word.
Because Leah knows what real power looks like. She knows the difference between confidence and something that was born eternal.
Itâs after a hard runâtempers high, rain cold, Samâs orders echoing in everyoneâs heads. Leahâs already on edge when she catches you standing at the tree line, staring at the clouds like youâre negotiating with them.
âYou gonna tell me what that was back there?â she asks.
You donât turn. âIt was nothing.â
Leah laughs, sharp. âBull.â
You sigh, finally facing her. Your eyes are too calm. Too old.
Leahâs gaze flicks over you like sheâs searching for the seam where your humanity is stitched on. âYouâre not like us.â
âI never said I was.â
âYou let them think you were.â Her voice hardens. âWhy?â
Your shoulders slumpâjust a little. âBecause I wanted a life that didnât start with people kneeling.â
Leahâs eyes narrow. âSo what are you? Witch? Spirit? Some kind ofââ
You lift your hand and the raindrops stop midair.
They hover between your fingers like glass beads, trembling.
Leah goes completely still.
Then she rolls her eyes like the universe is inconveniencing her personally. âOf course. Of course youâre a goddess.â
You blink. âYouâre⌠not scared?â
Leah steps closer until sheâs right in your space, daring you to be bigger than her.
âI donât bow,â she says. âNot to Sam. Not to fate. Not to you.â
Something in you loosens. Like thatâs exactly what you needed.
Leahâs voice drops, real for the first time. âBut if youâre hereâif youâre choosing thisâthen you donât get to act like youâre above it. Youâre family. And family doesnât disappear.â
Seth finds out in the gentlest way possible: by catching you being sad.
Itâs late. The packâs asleep or pretending to be. Sethâs on the porch with a blanket, staring at the stars like they might talk back.
You sit beside him without a sound.
He smiles, then falters. âYouâve been⌠quieter lately.â
You try to shrug it off. Seth doesnât let you.
âYou know,â he says softly, âyou donât have to be okay all the time.â
You laugh under your breath. âThatâs funny.â
âWhy?â
Because gods donât get to not be okay.
Because youâve spent forever being the one people pray to, not the one people hold.
Your eyes glowâjust a flickerâand Sethâs breath catches.
He stares. âWait⌠are youââ
You close your eyes. âPlease donât freak out.â
Seth scoots closer like youâre still just you. âIâm not freaking out. Iâm justâuhâprocessing.â
You open your palm and a small light forms there, warm and harmless like a firefly made of sunlight. It hums softly, like a heartbeat.
Sethâs voice comes out in a whisper. âThatâs⌠so cool.â
You blink, surprised. âThatâs it?â
He nods, dead serious. âYeah. Youâre still you. You still laugh at my dumb jokes. You still like hot chocolate. Being a goddess doesnât erase that.â
Then he holds out his hoodie.
You stare at it.
Seth blushes. âWhat? If youâre sitting out here, you might get cold.â
Your throat tightens. âSeth⌠I donât get cold.â
He tilts his head. âOkay. But you look like you want to be warm.â
And somehow, thatâs worseâin the best way.
Relationship vibe: sunshine comfort, awe without distance, best-friend intimacy. If romantic, itâs soft, healing, and tender.
EMBRY CALL â âYouâre Still You⌠Right?â
Embry finds out because you slipâjust onceâand Embry is always watching.
Not in a suspicious way. In a caring way. Like youâre a person he decided mattered.
Itâs after a rough shift. Heâs human, sweaty, grinning, talking too fast about how Paul almost face-planted into a river.
Then he stops.
Because youâre bleeding.
A thin line on your palm, like you grabbed something sharp. Embry reaches automatically.
âDude, youâre cut.â
âIâm fine.â
âYouâre not fineââ he takes your hand, and the moment his skin touches yours, the cut seals closed. No scar. No sting. Like your body simply⌠refuses harm.
Embryâs smile dies.
He stares at your palm, then at your face. âOkay. Either Iâm hallucinating, or youâre⌠not normal.â
You pull back, panic rising. âEmbryââ
âAre you like⌠a vampire?â he blurts.
You snort despite yourself. âNo.â
âA witch?â
âNo.â
âA superhero?â
You sigh. âNo.â
Embryâs eyes widen. âA goddess?â
Silence.
You whisper, âYes.â
Embryâs throat bobs. âOh my god.â
âYou donât have to say that. Itâsââ
âThatâs not what I meant!â he yelps, then rubs his face like the universe just handed him an algebra test. âOkay. Okay. So youâre a goddess. Cool. Coolcoolcool.â
You wait for the fear.
Instead he looks up, eyes shining with something painfully sincere.
âAre you still gonna come to movie night?â he asks, voice smaller. âBecause if you stop liking popcorn, Iâm gonna feel personally betrayed.â
Your laugh bursts out, relieved and shaky.
Embry grins, like he found you again. âThere you are.â
Relationship vibe: humor as a bridge, loyal protector, âkeep you humanâ energy. If romantic, itâs playful with surprisingly deep devotion.
QUIL ATEARA â âI Donât Want a Goddess. I Want You.â
Quil finds out when you heal someone you loveâsomeone you shouldnât have been able to save.
Itâs not dramatic. Not flashy.
Itâs quiet.
A bad fall. A bad cut. The kind of wound that makes even wolves go silent because they know what blood smells like when itâs too much.
Quil is shaking, trying not to panic, trying to be brave the way he always tries.
You kneel beside the injured one and press your hands over the wound.
The air warms. The forest hushes. And the bleeding stops like a faucet being turned off by an invisible hand.
Quil stares at you like he canât breathe. âHow did you do that?â
You pull your hands away slowly, like youâre afraid of yourself. âI wasnât supposed to.â
âYou werenât supposed to⌠what?â
You swallow. âShow you.â
Quilâs voice drops. âShow me what you are.â
You nod once, defeated. âA goddess.â
Quilâs face crumplesânot with fear.
With heartbreak.
âYouâve been alone,â he says, like itâs obvious. Like itâs the only thing he can see.
You blink fast. âQuilââ
He steps forward and takes your hand carefully, like youâre fragile, like your power doesnât change the fact youâre still someone who can hurt.
âI donât want a goddess,â he says quietly. âI want you. The you who laughs too loud. The you who listens. The you who stays.â
You donât trust your voice.
Quil squeezes your fingers. âSo⌠stay. With us.â
Relationship vibe: big-hearted devotion, comfort, emotional honesty. If romantic, itâs warm, safe, and deeply affectionate.
PAUL LAHOTE â âSay You Wonât Hurt Usâ
Paul finds out by accidentâand reacts like a cornered animal.
Because Paul doesnât do âunknown.â Unknown gets people killed.
Itâs a heated momentâsomeone pushes you, not hard, but disrespectful. Paul sees it and snaps.
He lungesâ
And freezes mid-step.
Because the ground beneath him shifts, roots curling up like hands around his ankles, holding him still. Not hurting him. Just⌠stopping him.
Paul whips his head toward you, eyes wild. âWhat the hell did you do?â
Your face is pale. âPaul, Iââ
âYou rooted me to the ground,â he snarls, struggling. The roots tighten just enough to warn him.
The pack goes still.
Samâs voice turns dangerous. âPaul. Stop.â
Paul doesnât. âNoâsheâsâwhat is she?â
You close your eyes. When you open them, they glow like sunlight through storm clouds.
âIâm not your enemy,â you say, voice carrying in the trees like it belongs there.
Paulâs anger falters, replaced by something raw. âProve it.â
You exhale, and the roots release him immediately, gentle as letting go of a wrist.
Paul stands there, chest heaving, staring like heâs seeing you for the first time.
âYou couldâve hurt me,â he says, quieter now.
âYes.â
âAnd you didnât.â
âNo.â
His voice drops to something almost embarrassed. âSo youâre⌠what? Some kind ofââ
âA goddess,â you answer.
Paul swallows hard.
Then, because Paul is Paul, he lifts his chin like heâs challenging the sky. âOkay. Then say you wonât hurt my pack.â
Your expression softens. âI wonât.â
Paul nods once, sharp. âGood.â
And from that moment on, heâs glued to your side like a guard dog who decided youâre his responsibility nowâdivinity be damned.
Relationship vibe: defensive â fiercely protective, intense loyalty, rough tenderness. If romantic, itâs fiery, devoted, âtouch her and dieâ energy.
JARED CAMERON â âRespect Isnât Fearâ
Jared is the calm in the middle of everyone elseâs panic.
He notices the way the pack reacts, the way the woods react, the way you keep stepping back like youâre expecting rejection.
So when it finally comes out, he doesnât ask âwhat are you?â
He asks, âHow long have you been carrying that by yourself?â
It happens after Samâs meeting, after everyoneâs said their piece, after Paulâs done pacing and Leahâs done scowling and Jacobâs done hovering.
Jared finds you near the tree line, quiet as a promise.
You donât look at him. âIf youâre here to ask questionsââ
âIâm here to make sure youâre not alone,â Jared says simply.
You let out a shakey breath. âIâm a goddess.â
âI know.â
That stops you. âHow?â
Jared shrugs, easy. âBecause Iâve seen the way the world calms down around you. And Iâve seen the way you try to pretend it doesnât.â
You wait for the fear.
Jared just nods, like heâs filing it under âimportant informationâ and nothing more.
âDo you want rules?â he asks.
You blink. âRules?â
âBoundaries,â he clarifies. âSo nobody crosses them. So nobody treats you like a weapon. So you donât have to keep guessing whatâs safe.â
Your chest aches. âYes.â
Jaredâs smile is small. âOkay. Then weâll do that.â
Relationship vibe: steady support, calm acceptance, grounding presence. If romantic, itâs patient, safe, and quietly devoted.
Disclaimer:
I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.
Can you do with sunshine seth and w badass s/o like their are really sunshine protector energy type and seth is so oblivious is like. When other people saying their mean and seth be like â what do you mean their mean ?â Because s/o is just kind when come to seth but w other is different persona.
Sunshine Boy, Badass Partner
Pairing: Seth Clearwater x Reader (S/O)
Summary: Seth is pure sunshine. Youâre⌠sunshine protectorâsweet to him, scary to everyone else. The problem? Seth is painfully oblivious, and he genuinely canât understand why people call you âmean.â
Seth Clearwater was the kind of guy who smiled at strangers like they were already friends.
You were the kind of person who made strangers remember an appointment they suddenly had somewhere else.
It wasnât even something you tried to doâyour face just didnât come with a customer-service setting unless Seth was involved. With Seth? You were soft. Warm. Patient. You laughed at his dumb jokes and fixed his hoodie strings and kissed his forehead like it was your job.
With everyone else?
Different operating system.
So when you showed up at the res with Seth, hand in hand, his grin was so bright it couldâve powered Forks. He waved at Embry, nodded at Jared, and said hi to Leah with the most innocent tone on earth.
You gave the pack a polite look.
Not rude. Not friendly.
Just⌠the kind of look that said: I will be pleasant. Donât make me be anything else.
And the packâevery single one of themâfelt it.
âHey,â Embry said, trying to sound casual.
âHey,â you said back, voice calm.
Embry swallowed like heâd just been assigned homework.
Seth bounced on his heels. âIâm starving. Babe, do you want something? Thereâs chips insideâoh, and Sue made food, andââ
âIâm good,â you said immediately, softening without even thinking about it. Your hand slid into his, thumb rubbing the side of his knuckle. âGo eat. Iâll be right here.â
Sethâs face practically melted. âOkay! Iâll be fast.â
The second Seth turned away, Quil leaned closer to Embry and muttered, âSee? That right there. Thatâs the switch.â
Jared nodded like it was a witnessed event. âItâs like watching a guard dog let a toddler dress it up in flower crowns.â
You glanced at them.
Just a glance.
Quil straightened so fast you wouldâve thought heâd been yanked by a string. ââAnyway! Great weather!â
Paul, whoâd been quiet in the corner, snorted. âYâall are so dramatic.â
Then he looked at you and, for some reason, decided to test his luck.
âSo,â Paul said, voice all rough edges, âwhatâs it like dating the youngest puppy in the pack? You babysit him orââ
You didnât raise your voice. You didnât even change your expression much.
You just said, âFinish that sentence.â
The air got heavy.
Paulâs smirk faltered. âI was kidding.â
You nodded once, slow. âGood.â
The silence was so loud it couldâve been a siren.
Then Seth came jogging back with a bag of chips and a bright, carefree smile like he hadnât just walked through a minefield. He shoved a chip into his mouth and looked around, oblivious.
âWhyâs it so quiet?â he asked, chewing. âDid I miss something?â
Leah stared at him like he was a lost cause. Embry coughed into his fist. Jared looked to the sky like he was praying for strength.
You turned to Seth and smiledâactually smiled.
Instant warmth. Instant softness. Like the sun coming out.
âNothing,â you said sweetly. âPaul was just being funny.â
Seth lit up. âOh! Nice.â
Paulâs eyes widened like: She just saved my life and threatened it at the same time.
Seth kept munching chips. âYou guys are always so weird around my partner.â
Embry blurted, âWeâre not weird.â
Quil nodded too fast. âYeah! Totally normal!â
Jared pointed at nothing. âSuper normal vibes.â
Seth frowned, confused. âThen why do people keep saying youâre mean?â
You blinked. âPeople say Iâm mean?â
Leah scoffed. âNot you acting surprised.â
Seth stepped closer, defending you immediately. âTheyâre not mean! Theyâreâ theyâre like⌠intense, I guess. But not mean.â
He looked at you with big, earnest eyes. âRight?â
You softened even more, because how could you not?
You tilted your head. âDo you think Iâm mean?â
Seth looked horrified. âNo! Youâre literally the nicest person ever. You alwaysââ
He started listing it on his fingers.
ââyou always save me the last drink, you remind me to eat when I forget, you listen when I talk about dumb stuff, you laugh at my jokes even when theyâre not funnyââ
âTheyâre funny,â you said automatically.
Seth smiled so wide it hurt. âSee! And youâre always hugging me and kissing me and you call me âbabyâ and youââ
He leaned in, lowering his voice like it was a secret.
ââyou look at me like Iâm the best thing that ever happened to you.â
Your throat tightened a little. You pressed your forehead to his. âYou are.â
Seth beamed. Then he looked over at the pack again, eyebrows raised.
âSo what do you mean theyâre mean?â he asked them, still genuinely confused.
The pack just stared.
Paul looked like heâd rather fight a bear.
Leah muttered, âHeâs hopeless.â
Embry shrugged helplessly. âBro, theyâre sweet to you.â
Seth blinked. âYeah?â
Quil added, âBut with us, itâs like⌠donât breathe wrong or youâll disappear.â
Jared nodded. âTheyâve got two personalities. âSethâs Angelâ and âEveryone Elseâs Problem.ââ
Sethâs mouth dropped open a little. âWhat? No.â
He turned to you, searching your face like heâd find the answer there.
âYouâre not like that.â
You gave him the softest look in the world. âI am not mean to you.â
Seth relaxed immediately. âSee!â
Then he paused.
ââŚWait.â
His eyes narrowed in slow realization. âAre you⌠mean to other people?â
You made an innocent face. âMean is a strong word.â
Leah snorted. âOh my god.â
Seth stared harder. âDo you⌠scare them on purpose?â
You leaned closer and kissed his cheekâgentle, sweet, affectionate.
Then, still sweet, you said, âI donât scare anyone who doesnât deserve it.â
Sethâs brain visibly tried to reboot.
âBut⌠they donât deserve it,â he said, glancing at the pack.
Embry immediately raised his hands. âI have never done anything wrong in my life.â
Quil nodded. âIâm basically a saint.â
Paul scoffed. âDonât drag me into this.â
You looked at them calmly. âMm.â
Every single one of them shut up.
Seth blinked again. âOkay, thatâ that was kind of scary.â
Your expression softened again instantly, like flipping a switch just for him. âIâm sorry. Do you want me to stop?â
Seth panicked. âNo! No, donâtâ I didnât meanââ
He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. âItâs just⌠I donât want people thinking youâre bad.â
You touched his jaw gently, guiding his attention back to you. âSeth. Iâm not bad.â
His eyes softened. âI know.â
âIâm just protective.â
Seth nodded slowly. âYeah. You are.â
You smiled. âAnd youâre oblivious.â
Seth gasped. âI am not!â
The pack collectively made a noise that sounded like laughter and pain.
You leaned in and whispered, âBaby, you just watched me silence a room with one word.â
Seth blinked. ââŚThatâs true.â
âAnd you still didnât notice.â
Seth stared at you, then burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. âOkay, okayâmaybe Iâm a little oblivious.â
You smiled, relieved, and kissed him againâwarm, slow, gentle.
Then you looked past his shoulder at the pack.
Your face went neutral.
Not angry.
Just⌠warning.
The pack stiffened like someone blew a whistle.
Seth turned back, still smiling. âWhat are you doing?â
You looked at him, softness returning instantly. âNothing.â
Seth narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
ââŚAre you doing the thing again?â
You blinked innocently. âWhat thing?â
âThe scary thing,â he said, pointing. âThe donât-mess-with-him thing.â
You tilted your head. âDo you want me to stop?â
Seth thought for half a second.
Then he smiledâsweet, proud, and hopelessly in love.
ââŚNo,â he admitted. âItâs kind of nice.â
Your eyes warmed. âYeah?â
Seth nodded. âYeah. Because I know Iâm safe with you.â
Your heart did a stupid little flip.
You pulled him into your arms, hugging him close, and Seth practically melted into you like he belonged there.
Over your shoulder, Paul muttered, âLucky.â
Leah rolled her eyes. âHeâs gonna get even worse.â
Embry whispered, âTheyâre literally going to kill for him.â
Seth looked up at you, smiling like the world was simple. âI love you.â
Your voice was soft, only for him. âI love you more.â
Then Seth turned back to the pack, still grinning.
âSee?â he said proudly. âNot mean.â
The pack stared at you.
You gave them a calm nod.
And they all, as one, decided Seth could keep believing that.
Because Seth was sunshine.
And you?
You were the kind of love that came with teeth.
Disclaimer:
I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended
Hii! can you do how the Cullens would react to the reader being a professional wrestler?
Cullens reacting to you being a professional wrestler
Carlisle Cullen
⢠Tries to hide how impressed he is, but you can tell by the little âdoctor smileâ he does when you talk about training.
⢠Worries about your long-term health (concussions, joint damage), so he gently offers to help you with recovery routines.
⢠Quietly watches your matches laterâfocused, respectful, and a little stunned by your pain tolerance.
⢠If you get injured, heâs calm support first, lecture never (unless you ask).
Esme Cullen
⢠Immediately becomes your biggest emotional support fan.
⢠Makes you âpost-match comfortâ kits: warm hoodie, snacks, ice packs, cozy socksâlike itâs her sacred mission.
⢠Hates seeing you hurt but loves seeing you confident.
⢠Calls your gear âbeautifulâ even if itâs the most intimidating, spiky, black-and-red look ever.
Edward Cullen
⢠Acts cool about it at first, but heâs internally spiraling because your job is literally âgetting hit for a living.â
⢠If he hears your opponent talking trash about you backstage, heâs instantly annoyed (and protective), even if youâre not bothered.
⢠Loves the performance side: entrances, storylines, crowd reactionsâheâs fascinated by the art of it.
⢠Becomes obsessed with your theme song and the exact moment you hit your finisher.
Bella Swan
⢠If this is human-Bella: sheâs anxious at first, like âarenât you scared???â
⢠If this is vampire-Bella: sheâs suddenly your hype woman, asking for the lore, the rivalries, the dramaâeverything.
⢠Brags about you in the most casual way that still screams proud: âOh, yeah, theyâre a pro wrestler.â
⢠Slightly jealous of how fearless you are but also inspired.
Alice Cullen
⢠Already has 12 outfit concepts and 3 entrance looks planned the second she finds out.
⢠Loves the theatricsâshe treats your wrestling persona like a fashion + storytelling masterpiece.
⢠âI saw the crowd pop when you hit the move, so weâre leaning into that. Trust me.â
⢠Shows up at shows looking like she belongs in the front row VIP section (because she does).
Jasper Hale
⢠Reads the entire arena like itâs a battlefieldâbut in a respectful, protective way.
⢠Can feel your adrenaline and the crowdâs energy. It fascinates him how you control it.
⢠Offers grounding techniques before big matches: breathing, focus cues, steady routine.
⢠Quietly proud when you stay calm under pressureâhe values discipline.
Rosalie Hale
⢠Loves that youâre strong, skilled, and nobody can underestimate you.
⢠Gets heated if someone calls it âfake.â Like⌠do they want a demonstration?
⢠Compliments your work ethic more than anything: âYou donât get to that level without being relentless.â
⢠Secretly loves the glamour and confidenceâyour walk, your presence, your âdonât mess with meâ aura.
Emmett Cullen
⢠Your #1 gym buddy. Immediately asks: âSo whatâs your finisher and can you do it to me?â
⢠Hypes you up like itâs his jobâloud, proud, and mildly chaotic.
⢠Tries to learn wrestling moves and dramatically oversells every bump.
⢠Starts calling you âchampâ even if youâre not holding a title (yet).
Disclaimer:
I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended
Could you do one where the reader is a wolf shifter, and she shifts for the first time and one of the pack helps her control it ?!
Twilight pack oc
First Shift
Pairing: Wolfpack (individual scenarios) x Wolf Shifter!Reader
Warnings: Panic, loss of control, mild injury (scratches), shifting (non-graphic), strong emotions
⸝
Jacob Black
You bolt through the trees on pure terror, paws slipping in wet leavesâuntil the forest answers back with a warm, steady presence.
A russet wolf steps out, head lowered.
Easy, Jacobâs voice threads into your mind. Iâm not here to corner you.
You snarl anywayâbecause your body doesnât trust what your heart recognizes.
Jacob sits. Just sits, like heâs teaching a skittish dog not to bite.
Match me, he says. Breathe when I breathe.
His chest rises slow. Falls slow.
You try, shaky at first, then steadier. The panic doesnât vanish, but it stops driving.
Control isnât force, Jacob says. Itâs rhythm. Your wolf needs a beat to follow.
When you finally shift back, you collapse into the ferns, shaking. Jacobâs human footsteps crunch closeâcareful, not rushing you.
âYou did it,â he says, offering his hand like youâre something precious, not dangerous. âNext time? You call me before you run.â
⸝
Sam Uley
You donât run far before the packâs alpha presence hits you like a wallâfirm, commanding, but not cruel.
A massive black wolf appears, eyes sharp.
Stop, Sam ordersâone word, absolute.
Your body freezes before your mind can argue. You tremble, hackles high, a frantic whine stuck in your throat.
Sam steps closer, measured.
Listen. His voice is low, like thunder you can lean on. Youâre not being punished. Youâre being protectedâby you, by me, by the pack. Your fear is lighting matches. Put them down.
He sends you a steady image: a hand closing around a flame and snuffing it out without panic.
Focus on one thing, Sam continues. My voice. The ground under you. The air in your lungs. Thatâs it.
When you shift back, it feels like being pulled safely out of deep water.
Sam shifts too, human now, and drapes a jacket over your shoulders without a word.
âYouâre pack,â he says simply. âWhich means you donât do this alone again.â
⸝
Leah Clearwater
You think youâre alone until you catch the scentâsharp, familiar, female, fierce.
A gray wolf slips from the shadows, eyes narrowed like sheâs already irritated at the universe.
Oh, fantastic, Leahâs voice cuts in. First shift. Been there. Hate it for you.
Your fear spikesâthen stuttersâbecause somehow her annoyance makes it less terrifying.
Leah paces a slow circle around you, not threatening, just⌠present.
Hereâs the truth, she says. You canât out-muscle your own instincts. You have to out-smart them. Youâre spiraling? Fine. Give your brain a job.
She points with her nose to a stump.
Touch it. Smell it. Count three scents. Name them. Dirt, moss, sapâwhatever. Anchor yourself.
You do it, desperate, and the world steadies around that simple task.
Good, Leah says, grudgingly proud. Now youâre driving again.
When you shift back, youâre shakingâand Leah huffs, shifting human a second later.
âDonât cry,â she says, then sighs like she hates being soft. âOkayâcry a little. But you did good. And if anyone makes you feel weird about it, Iâll bite them.â
⸝
Embry Call
You crash through brush and nearly tumble into a creekâuntil warm laughter flickers into your mind like a flashlight.
A sandy-brown wolf trots into view, tail wagging like heâs trying to calm you with vibes alone.
Hey, heyâeasy, Embry says. Youâre okay. Youâre not crazy. Youâre not dying. Youâre just⌠fluffy right now.
Your growl comes out more embarrassed than scary.
Embry flops onto the groundâfull dramatic sprawl.
See? Nothingâs happening. He sends you a mental image of you tripping over your own paws and he snorts at it, gentle teasing. Youâre doing better than I did. I ran straight into a tree. Like⌠headfirst.
The humor cracks your panic like an egg. Your breathing slows.
Okay, Embry says softly now. Try this: stop thinking about âturning back.â Think about âcoming home.â Picture your hands. Your heartbeat. Your name. Not the fearâyour name.
You cling to it like a lifeline.
When you shift back, Embry is already human, holding out your hoodie like itâs the most normal thing in the world.
âSee?â he says, bright grin, eyes kind. âHome.â
⸝
Quil Ateara
Youâre trembling so hard your paws slide on the earth. Every sound is too loud. Every scent is too much.
Then comes Quilâbig energy, big heartâapproaching like heâs walking up to a frightened kid.
A reddish-brown wolf keeps his distance, head lowered.
Hey, Quilâs voice is warm. Iâm gonna talk you through it, okay? Just follow the steps. No pressure.
He sends you something unexpected: a memory of making frybread, hands kneading doughâpush, fold, breathe.
Your wolf is like dough, he says. If you fight it, it tears. If you work with it, it holds shape.
You focus on the rhythm. Push. Fold. Breathe.
Your panic turns into something you can handleâsomething with steps.
When you shift back, youâre exhausted, but safe. Quil shifts too, human now, and gives you a soft, careful smile.
âYouâre not a monster,â he says. âYouâre just new.â
⸝
Paul Lahote
Youâre snarling at the air, spinning, ready to bite the forest itselfâ
And Paulâs presence hits you like a slammed door.
A huge wolf barrels into view, then skids to a stop like heâs forcing himself not to come in too hot.
Whoaâokay, okay, Paul says, voice tense. Donât bite me. Iâm not the problem.
You snap anyway. Your fear comes out as fury.
Paul exhales hard, thenâshockinglyâsoftens.
Look, he says. I get it. Anger feels easier than fear. But you canât punch your way through this. Youâre gonna hurt yourself.
He lowers his head, showing you his throat for half a secondâpure trust.
Iâm not fighting you, he says. Iâm standing with you. Big difference.
Something in you⌠pauses.
Now listen, Paul continues, steadier. Pick one thing you can control. Your paws. Your breathing. Your eyes. Start there. Small control becomes big control.
When you shift back, youâre shaking and scraped up. Paulâs already human, swearing under his breath as he tears a strip of cloth.
âHold still,â he mutters, wrapping your scratches. Then, quieter: âYou did good. Donât tell anyone I said that.â
⸝
Jared Cameron
You canât stop pacing. Canât stop scanning. Youâre trapped between ârunâ and âattack.â
Then Jared appearsâcalm like a big brother, steady like a wall.
A dark wolf steps into view, posture relaxed.
Hey, Jared says gently. Iâm gonna give you a job. Wolves do better with jobs.
He points you toward a clear patch of ground.
Walk a circle. Same size. Same pace. Donât speed up. Donât stop. Just circle.
Itâs simple. Itâs boring. It works.
Your nervous system starts to settle into the pattern, and your thoughts stop scattering.
Good, Jared says. Now tighten the circle. Smaller. Slower. Thatâs control.
When you shift back, Jared shifts too and offers you water like he expected this all along.
âYour bodyâs learning,â he says. âWeâll train it.â
⸝
Seth Clearwater
Youâre shaking and miserable and convinced youâre going to be stuck like this forever when a bright, golden presence pops into your head like sunshine.
A cinnamon-colored wolf bounces into viewâtail wagging, ears perked.
Hi! Okay! Soâ Seth blurts, then catches himself. Sorry. Iâm Seth. Youâre⌠you. And youâre doing great.
You whine, panicked.
No, no, listenâ Seth says quickly. When I first shifted, I freaked out so bad I thought Iâd never see my mom again. But you will. Promise. You just have to trust your body a little.
He sends you an image of a kite in wind.
Donât yank the string, he explains. Guide it. Small pulls. Small corrections.
You try. Tiny adjustments in your breathing, your posture, your focus.
It starts to work.
When you shift back, Seth is human almost instantly, whipping off his shirt like a blanket.
âOkay,â he says, beaming like you just won a medal. âSee? Youâre still you.â
Disclaimer:
I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.
hi!! i was wondering if you could do a jacob black x pixie/fairy reader? like maybe them finding out theyâre a fairy/pixie??
Wildflower, Starlight
Pairing: Jacob Black x Fairy/Pixie!Reader
Summary: Jacobâs already carrying too many secrets when something starts stalking the woods near La Pushâsomething that feels older than vampires and colder than the ocean. When you finally slip and reveal what you are, Jacob learns two truths at once: youâre fae⌠and youâre his imprint.
Jacob knew something was off the second you stepped onto First Beach.
Not because you looked differentâyou didnât. Same hoodie, same messy hair, same stubborn little frown like the weather personally offended you.
But the air moved around you.
Like the wind was trying to make space.
Like the ocean was holding its breath.
Jacobâs eyes narrowed as you walked closer, boots sinking into damp sand. âOkay,â he said, voice casual in that way that wasnât casual at all, âwhy do you look like youâre about to confess to murder?â
You rolled your eyes, but your fingers kept worrying the thin bracelet around your wrist. âIâm not confessing to anything.â
âUh-huh.â He bumped your shoulder lightly, trying to pull a smile out of you. âThen whyâd you text me âcome aloneâ like youâre in a spy movie?â
You didnât answer right away.
Your gaze kept flicking to the treeline.
Jacob followed it, the heat under his skin rising, instincts prickling. The wolves in his headâhis brothersâwerenât here. Heâd asked them for space, for five minutes of normal.
But normal didnât stick to you anymore. Maybe it never had.
âIâve been hearing things,â you said finally. âAt night.â
Jacobâs expression sharpened. âLike what?â
You hesitated, then muttered, âLike someone calling my name.â
He stopped walking.
Your name didnât get called out here unless you were in trouble.
And trouble, lately, had fangs.
Jacobâs hands flexed. âWhy didnât you tell me sooner?â
âBecause I didnât want you toââ you started, then swallowed. âI didnât want you to do that thing where you get heroic and stupid.â
Jacob scoffed. âI donâtââ
You gave him a look.
He sighed. âOkay, I do that. But Iâm working on it.â
The waves hissed up the beach and retreated.
The sky stayed gray.
And still, Jacob felt itâan itch under his skin that wasnât wolf, wasnât vampire.
Something else.
Something old.
You stopped near a driftwood log and turned to face him like you were bracing for impact.
âJake,â you said softly. âIf I tell you something⌠you canât freak out.â
Jacob tried to smile. It came out crooked. âIâm literally a werewolf, remember? My freak-out threshold is⌠pretty high.â
You huffed a breath that almost sounded like a laugh, but your eyes stayed worried.
Your fingers slid under the bracelet charm.
Like you were checking a lock.
âIâm not⌠entirely human,â you admitted.
Jacobâs stomach dropped.
Not because heâd be mad. Not because heâd be disgusted.
Because heâd knownâin that way your body knows when the ground isnât steady.
He took a careful step closer. âWhat are you?â
You swallowed hard. âFae.â
Jacob blinked. âLike⌠fairy?â
âPixie,â you corrected automatically, then winced like the word betrayed you. âItâsâcomplicated.â
Jacob stared at you for a second longer than polite.
Then, unbelievably, he said, âOkay.â
You froze. âOkay?â
Jacobâs jaw tightened. âYeah. Okay. Because youâre still you.â His eyes flicked to your wrist. âAnd because you look like youâre about to bolt.â
You exhaled shakily. âYouâre not scared?â
Jacob laughed once, breathy and sharp. âIâm scared of, like, three things.â He nodded at the treeline again. âAnd whateverâs out there just climbed onto the list.â
As if the woods heard him, the temperature dropped.
Not a natural cold.
A shadow slid between the trunks like smoke learning how to stand upright.
Jacobâs entire body went rigid.
âBehind me,â he ordered, voice low.
You didnât argue. You stepped back, but your hand snagged in the bracelet againânervous, instinctive.
The shadow drifted closer, and Jacobâs vision sharpened in that wolf wayâevery detail louder, every scent brighter.
This thing smelled like wet stone and crushed flowers. Sweet and rotten at the same time.
A voice curled out of it, soft as a lullaby. âLittle sparkâŚâ
You flinched.
Jacobâs head snapped toward you. âYou know it.â
âNotâpersonally,â you whispered. âBut⌠I know what it is.â
The shadowâs smile widened, wrong on a face that kept shifting between pretty and terrifying. âYou canât hide from your blood forever.â
Jacob growled, deep enough you felt it in your ribs. âBack. Off.â
The shadowâs eyes flicked to him like Jacob was a mildly interesting animal. âA wolf playing guard dog. How quaint.â
Jacob took a step forward, anger spikingâbut you grabbed his sleeve.
âJacob,â you breathed, urgent. âIron.â
He blinked, then swore under his breath like he was filing the information away for later. âGot it.â
The shadow tilted its head. âTelling secrets now? Naughty.â
It lifted one hand toward youâfingers too long, too elegant.
Your bracelet burned.
A sharp heat shot up your arm like a warning flare.
And then the lock inside you finally snapped.
Light burst out of you in a glittering shockwave, bright enough to make Jacob flinch and throw an arm up. The ocean wind whipped hard, spiraling around your body.
Your knees hit the sand.
Your back ached.
And something unfurled with a soft, crystalline soundâ
Wings.
Not big and dramatic like in movies.
Small, delicate, dragonfly-thinâshimmering with faint colors that shifted with your breath.
Jacob stared.
The shadow laughed, delighted. âThere you are.â
Jacobâs hand dropped slowly. His eyes dragged over you like he was making sure you were real.
Then his chest rose, fellâonce.
Twice.
And his whole world changed.
It hit him like a punchâlike gravity suddenly had a name.
His breath caught.
His face went blank with shock, then cracked with something raw and helpless.
âNo,â Jacob whispered.
You looked up, confused through panic. âNo what?â
Jacob stepped toward you like he couldnât stop.
Like the space between you was an emergency.
âSam saidââ he started, voice breaking. âHe said it feels likeâlike the world narrows and you canât breatheââ
The shadowâs smile sharpened. âOh?â
Jacobâs eyes were locked on you now, fierce and stunned and wrecked.
ââand itâs you,â he finished, voice shaking. âItâs you.â
Your heart tripped. âJacobâŚ?â
He swallowed hard, like the word hurt.
âI imprinted,â he said.
The ocean seemed to go quiet.
Your stomach flipped so hard you thought you might be sick. âThatâsâJacob, thatâs notââ
âItâs not a choice,â he cut in quickly, and the way he said it was almost desperateâlike he needed you to understand right now. âBut what I do with it is. You hear me? You donât owe me anything. You donâtââ
The shadow made a low, amused sound. âHow noble.â
Jacobâs head snapped toward it, rage blooming like a fire. His hands curled.
You felt the wolf under his skin, straining.
But instead of lunging, Jacob planted himself between you and the thing againâwide stance, protective, like his body had decided you were the only point that mattered.
âNo,â Jacob said, voice deadly calm. âYou donât get to talk to them like that.â
The shadowâs gaze slid to you. âCome home, little spark. The wolf canât keep you.â
Jacobâs breath hissed out. âTry it.â
The shadow movedâfast.
Not like running.
Like it slid through the air.
Jacob shifted his weight to attackâ
And you reacted without thinking.
Light snapped out of you again, instinctive and bright, forming a shimmering barrier between Jacob and the creature. It slammed into it like it hit glass, and the shadow recoiled with a hiss.
Jacob froze, then looked back at you.
Your wings trembled. Your hands shook, palms glowing faintly.
âI canâtââ you choked out. âI canât let you get hurt.â
Jacobâs expression softened so fast it hurt to see. Like all the rage drained out and left only himâJacob, the boy who built motorcycles and smiled like sunshine.
He stepped closer to the barrier, careful.
âHey,â he said quietly. âIâm right here.â
The shadowâs eyes narrowed, furious now. âYouâll regret this.â
And then it melted back into the trees, voice trailing like smoke: âSooner or later⌠youâll return to what you are.â
Silence returned in a rush.
Only the ocean. Only your breathing.
Jacob dropped to a crouch in front of you, close but not touching. Like he was trying not to spook a wild thing.
âYou okay?â he asked, voice gentle.
You let out a shaky laugh that sounded like crying. âI donât know. Iâve never⌠done that. Not like that.â
Jacobâs gaze flicked to your wings, then back to your face.
âTheyâre⌠really pretty,â he said, like the words were the safest thing he could offer.
You swallowed. âDonât call me Tinker Bell.â
A small smile tugged at his mouthârelief, trembling at the edges. âI wasnât going to.â
You raised an eyebrow.
He sighed. âOkay, I was. A little.â
Your laugh came out more real this time, and Jacob looked like he could breathe again.
Then his face sobered.
âAbout the imprint,â he said carefully. âIâm not gonnaââ He searched for the right words, jaw tight. âIâm not gonna cage you. Iâm not gonna demand anything. I justââ
His voice dropped, raw.
âI just want you safe. I want you happy. Even if that isnât⌠with me.â
Your throat tightened.
You stared at him, at the way his hands shook slightly like he was holding himself back, at the way he looked at you like you were the center of his whole messed-up universe.
And you realized something that scared you almost as much as the shadow in the woods:
Jacob meant it.
This wasnât possession.
It was devotion.
It was responsibility.
It was a love that came with teeth, but it was still your choice what to do with it.
You took a shaky breath. âOkay.â
Jacob blinked. âOkay?â
You nodded, wings twitching. âOkay, but⌠youâre going to have to learn about pixies.â
Jacobâs lips curved. âDeal.â
âAnd you canât go charging into the forest without a plan.â
âAlso deal.â
âAnd if you call me Tinker Bellââ
Jacob grinned, bright and reckless again. âNo promises.â
You rolled your eyes, but your chest warmed anyway.
Jacobâs hand lifted, hovering near your knee like he was asking permission without words.
âCan I?â he asked softly.
You hesitatedâthen nodded.
His fingers brushed your hand, warm and steady, grounding you like the sand beneath your knees.
And for the first time since the woods started whispering your name, you didnât feel alone.
Disclaimer:
I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.
Could you do a Paul lahote story where he was dating Rachel but then he imprint on reader. Reader is Bellaâs baby sister and when Bella goes to find out what happened to Jacob and she slaps Paul, reader is there and that when Paul imprints on reader. I hope that makes sense. If your not comfortable doing that I understand
The Moment It Changed
Pairing: Paul Lahote x Reader
Summary: Paul thinks heâs got his life under controlâdating Rachel, keeping his temper in check, staying out of trouble. Then Bella Swan storms into La Push looking for Jacob⌠and in one sharp, stinging second, everything snaps into place. Unfortunately for Paul (and everyone else), the person he imprints on is youâBellaâs baby sisterâstanding right there when Bella slaps him.
Warnings: imprinting, jealousy/heartbreak (Rachel), shouting/anger, emotional whiplash, light violence (a slap), mentions of phasing/wolves, canon-typical danger
Bellaâs voice hit the air like a match.
âWhere is he?â
La Push always felt like a loaded gun when Bella was upsetâtoo many secrets in the trees, too much tension in the salt-heavy wind. The kind of place where your heart beat harder because something in you knew it wasnât normal.
You stood half a step behind her, close enough to grab her sleeve if she lunged at someone, far enough away that she couldnât tell your hands were trembling.
Bellaâs baby sister. Thatâs what people called you, like you were a title instead of a person. Like you were just the extra piece of Swan baggage that came with her whenever she decided to walk into danger like it was a hobby.
Paul Lahote was there, right where you didnât want him to be: near the edge of the trees, shoulders set, jaw tight, eyes flashing like a storm that couldnât decide whether it wanted to break or hold.
Rachel stood close to himâclose enough that you caught the way her fingers hovered near his arm like she was used to steadying him. Like sheâd learned the angles of his temper and built herself into a wall.
Paulâs gaze snapped to Bella.
âNot here,â he said, and you swore the words sounded like a growl heâd forced into a human shape.
Bella didnât flinch. That was Bellaâfear was a thing she seemed to swallow whole.
âWhat did you do to him?â she demanded, stepping forward. âWhere is Jacob?â
Rachelâs eyes darted to you. Not cruel. Not kind either. More like⌠careful. Like sheâd seen enough around here to know that being near the Swan sisters meant you either got hurt or you became part of the hurt.
Paul exhaled hard through his nose. âYou shouldnât be here.â
Bellaâs laugh was sharp and humorless. âOh, thatâs rich. Youâre telling me what I shouldnât do, after youâafter all of youââ
Her voice cracked at the edges, but she kept going, fueled by panic and rage and whatever sheâd dragged all the way from Forks.
âYou took him. You took him and you wonât tell me anythingââ
Paul moved, just a step, but it was enough to make the air shift. Enough to make your spine stiffen like a warning.
âBella,â you said quickly, grabbing her wrist. âPleaseââ
She yanked free.
âDonât,â she snapped, and it wasnât really at you. It was at everything. At the universe. At the secret that had swallowed Jacob Black and left her standing here with nothing but questions and the taste of fear.
Paulâs eyes flicked to youâjust once, quick as lightningâand then back to Bella.
âI canât tell you,â he said, voice low. âGo home.â
Bellaâs breath hitched.
For half a second, you thought she might break.
Then she did something worse.
She swung.
Her palm cracked across Paulâs face, loud enough that it echoed off the trees. Rachelâs gasp cut through the moment. Paulâs head turned with the hitâhardâbefore he snapped back, eyes flaring, hands curling like he was fighting the urge to become something bigger than a boy in a hoodie.
âBella!â you cried, stepping between them without thinking, palms out.
And that was the instant it happened.
Paulâs gaze locked on you.
Not like the quick glance from before.
This time it was like the world narrowed until there was nothing left but your face, your eyes, the sound of your breathing.
His expression changed in a way that made your stomach dropâlike anger got yanked out of him by the roots. Like something ancient and certain reached into his chest and claimed.
Paulâs lips parted. His breath caught.
âNo,â he whisperedâso quiet you almost missed it.
Rachel froze beside him. You watched her realize it in real time, like the meaning slid into place behind her eyes and turned her whole body cold.
Paul took one step forward.
Then another.
He wasnât looking at Bella anymore. Like Bella didnât exist. Like the slap, the yelling, the secretsânone of it mattered.
Only you.
Your heart hammered. âPaulâŚ?â
His face was still faintly red where Bella had hit him, but he didnât even seem to notice. His eyes were wide, stunned, horrified, reverent all at once.
âIâŚâ His voice broke like he couldnât fit the words around what heâd just become. âItâs you.â
Bella looked between you and him, confusion twisting into alarm. âWhatâwhat are you talking about?â
Paul didnât answer her.
He looked like he couldnât.
Like answering anyone else would be the same as turning his back on gravity.
Rachel made a small soundâhalf laugh, half chokeâand stepped back like sheâd been burned.
âPaul,â she said, voice tight, âdonât.â
Paul flinched at her voice. Just for a second. Like something human in him tried to remember heâd been someone else a minute agoâsomeone who held Rachelâs hand and kissed her forehead and promised he was trying.
But then his eyes snapped back to you, and the human part disappeared under something bigger.
His shoulders droppedâsoftenedâlike his body had finally stopped bracing for impact.
âI didnâtââ he said, voice rough. âI didnât mean to. I swear I didnâtââ
You stared at him, throat tight. âMean to what?â
His mouth opened, closed. His hands flexed at his sides like he wanted to reach for you but didnât dare.
âItâs⌠itâs imprinting,â he said finally, like the word tasted like both salvation and a curse.
Bella went still.
You could see the exact second her brain connected dots you didnât even know existed.
âNo,â she whispered. âNo, noâare you serious?â
Paulâs eyes flicked to Bella for the first time since it happened, and there was something almost apologetic there. Almost. Like even if he wanted to be sorry, the imprint didnât leave room for regret the way normal people had it.
âI am,â he said quietly. âAnd I canât⌠I canât change it.â
Your hands shook. âSo what does that mean?â
Paulâs gaze came back to you, gentler nowâlike he was trying to handle you carefully, like you were something fragile heâd been handed with no instructions.
âIt means,â he said, swallowing hard, âthat Iâm yours.â
The words landed heavy.
Possessive, but not in the way you expected. Not like he was taking. More like he was giving.
Like someone had rewired him to orbit you, whether he wanted to or not.
Rachelâs eyes shone, furious and hurt. âPaul.â
He turned his head just enough to acknowledge her.
âIâm sorry,â he said. And it sounded like it scraped him raw. âRachel, Iââ
But the apology didnât finish, because his attention kept slipping back to you like a magnet.
Rachelâs jaw trembled. âThatâs it, then. Justâjust like that?â
Rachel laughed again, sharp this time. âNo. But youâll live with it anyway.â
She looked at youâreally lookedâand there was something in her expression you werenât ready for. Not hatred.
Something worse.
A kind of grief that made you feel guilty even though you hadnât done anything but stand there and exist.
âYouâre Bellaâs sister,â Rachel said softly, like the fact itself was a warning.
You couldnât answer.
Because Bella was staring at Paul like she wanted to slap him againâand maybe she would, if she thought it would fix anything.
âThis is insane,â Bella hissed. âYouâre dating herââ
Paulâs voice cracked with frustration. âI was.â
Silence.
The kind that made the ocean feel far away, even though you could still smell it.
You took a step back, trying to breathe. âPaul, I donât⌠I donât even know you.â
His face flinchedâlike youâd hit him harder than Bella did.
Then he nodded, slow, like he was accepting punishment.
âI know,â he said, voice low. âBut Iâll spend however long it takes proving Iâm not going to hurt you.â
Bella scoffed. âYou literally almost exploded two seconds ago.â
Paul didnât look away from you. âNot at her.â
That shouldâve been comforting.
It wasnât.
It was terrifying.
Because the way he said it made it clear he wasnât promising to be better.
He was promising heâd be differentâfor you.
And you didnât know what to do with that kind of power.
Bellaâs hand came up again, not to slap this time, but to grip your arm.
âWeâre leaving,â she said, voice fierce. âRight now.â
Paulâs body tensed, not with angerâsomething protective, instinctive.
But he didnât block you.
He just watched, eyes tracking every movement like he was memorizing you in case you vanished.
And when Bella tugged you away, pulling you down the beach path toward the car, you felt it:
Not a physical thing.
A shift in the air.
Like somewhere behind you, Paul Lahoteâs world had just been reduced to one fragile point.
You.
Disclaimer:
I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.Â
can you plzzzz write one where reader thinks embry has a crush on bella??
Second-Best to Swan
Pairing: Embry Call x Reader
Summary:Being best friends with Jacob and Embry has always meant grease stains, inside jokes, and late nights in the La Push garage. But when you tag along the day they walk in on Jacob and Bella fixing the motorcycle, youâre suddenly very aware of just how⌠perfect Bella Swan is. And you canât help noticing the way Embry looks at herâor at least you think you do. Spiraling jealousy, distance, and overthinking follow⌠until Embry finally corners you and makes it painfully, beautifully clear that the only girl heâs got heart-eyes for is you.
Warnings:Jealousy & insecurity, Swearing (light),Canon-typical Twilight setting (La Push, New Moon-ish),Lots of fluff and reassurance after angst
You always thought the La Push garage smelled like home.
Oil and salt air and whatever air freshener Billy had stuck on the shelf months ago. It clinged to your clothes, got into your hair, but you didnât mind. It meant you were where you belonged: perched on a workbench, watching your two favorite idiots argue about something that had probably started as a joke.
Embryâs laugh echoed off the walls, warm and ridiculous, as Jacob threw a greasy rag at him.
âDude, you literally did that wrong on purpose,â Jacob complained. âThatâs not even how you tighten a bolt.â
âI was testing you,â Embry said, smirking, rolling the socket wrench in his fingers like he knew what he was doing. âAnd you passed. Gold star, Black.â
You snorted from your spot on the workbench. âYou two sound like an old married couple.â
Embry shot you a look, one brow cocked. âJealous?â
You made a face and lobbed the extra rag at his head. âIn your dreams, Call.â
He grinned, bright and easy, like he always did when he got a reaction out of you. That grin did annoying things to your heart that you pretended not to notice.
This was your normalâthe three of you, loud and messy and comfortable. Youâd grown up with Jacob and Embry. They were your boys, your constants. Even when things started to get weirdâJacobâs mood swings, Embry disappearing for days, the way their bodies seemed to bulk up overnightâyou still felt like you had your place.
Today, though, the normal felt like it was about to tilt.
âCâmon,â Jacob said, wiping his hands on his jeans. âWe gotta head over to my place. I told Bella Iâd finish up with the bikes.â
The name hit the air like a little spark.
Bella.
Youâd met her a handful of times. She was nice. Quiet, awkward, that âI literally did not ask to be this accidentally appealingâ kind of girl. People just gravitated to her. Or, at least, boys did.
Especially Jacob.
You pretended you didnât see the way his face softened whenever she was mentioned. Or how his voice dipped unconsciously when he said her name.
âAre you coming?â Embry asked, jerking his head toward the door.
Your stomach did a funny flippy thing. Going to Jacobâs meant seeing Bella. Seeing Bella meant confronting the reality that she was growing closer to your best friend. And apparently, according to the treaty of âthe universe hates you,â every guy you liked or might someday like seemed to be at least a little drawn to her, too.
You hopped off the workbench anyway. âYeah, sure. Someone has to make sure you two donât blow anything up.â
âHey,â Jacob protested. âYou wound me.â
Embry bumped your shoulder with his as you passed him. âDonât worry, Iâll keep us safe.â
You rolled your eyes to hide the way your face heated up. âYou canât even keep track of your own tools.â
The ride to Jacobâs was quick, wind biting at your cheeks, the sky overhead that pale, washed-out gray youâd come to associate with Forks weather.
By the time you stepped into the garage, you knew something was different. You could feel it, like static.
She was there.
Bella, standing with her back to you, hair curtaining her face as she leaned over a rusty motorcycle, grease smudged on her cheek. Jacob stood beside her, fingers brushing hers as he pointed at something on the bike. They were laughing quietly, heads bent close.
Your chest pinched.
It shouldnât have felt like a punch. This was what you knew was happening. Jacob had said he was helping her with the bikes, that theyâd been hanging out more. Youâd nodded, smiled, even teased him about his âcrush.â
But seeing it in real timeâthe way his whole body seemed to lean toward hersâhurt in a way you werenât prepared for.
Embryâs easy voice cut through your thoughts as he stepped in behind you and Jacob. âSo this is Bella.â
They both startled a bit, looking up. Bella whipped around, expression nervous but kind.
âUhâhey,â she said, wiping her hands on a rag. âYou must be Embry, right?â
Embry gave a lazy grin. âIn the flesh.â
You watched his eyes flick up and down almost automatically, taking her in. Messy hair. Soft flannel. That shy sort of half-smile.
Your heart dropped.
You suddenly thought of yourself. Grease on your own jeans, hair pulled back in a bandana, a stain on your hoodie from the soda Jacob had tossed you earlier. Next to Bella, you felt⌠small. Ordinary. Like the background character in someone elseâs story.
Jacob gestured between you all. âBella, this is Embry. And you know Y/N.â
Bella gave you a warm smile. âHey.â
You forced your lips into something that wasnât quite a grimace. âHey. Looks like you two have been busy.â
Embry moved closer, hands on his hips as he surveyed the bike. âDamn, Swan. Didnât think you had it in you.â
It was a teasing compliment. You knew his tone. He talked like that all the timeâto you, to Jacob, to pretty much everyone. But your brain didnât care about logic right now.
Your brain only saw the way he was smiling.
The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when Bella ducked her head, embarrassed.
The way he looked⌠impressed.
Something ugly and tight wrapped around your ribs.
You stepped back without really meaning to, suddenly aware of just how in-the-way you felt. Jacob and Bella were wrapped in their little motorcycle bubble. Embry had slotted himself in next to them, joking and talking, and youâ
You didnât know where to stand.
âIâm, uh, gonna go grab something from Billy,â you muttered. âForgot I told him Iâd bring it home for Mom.â
Embry glanced over his shoulder at you. âYou want help?â
âNope.â You plastered on a smile that felt like it was made of glass. âI got it.â
You didnât wait for anyone to say anything else. You just turned and walked out, the laughter behind you fading under the roar of your heartbeat.
You didnât actually go see Billy.
You just walked until Jacobâs house was a dot in the distance and the smell of ocean salt began to drown out the motor oil.
You knew it was stupid. Bella didnât do anything wrong. Embry didnât either. You were the one acting weird.
But the image replayed in your head on a loop: the way heâd looked at her.
Youâd seen that look before. On other guys. In hallways. At bonfires. Always aimed at girls who werenât you.
And the worst part? It made sense.
Bella was the kind of girl people cared about just by breathing near her. You were the one everyone forgot until they needed someone to help carry parts or fix a snack or listen.
Background character, your brain whispered. Supporting role.
You kicked at a rock, hard enough to send it skittering across the damp ground.
âStupid,â you muttered. âThis is so stupid, oh my God.â
Youâd never even said anything to Embry. Not out loud. How are you supposed to be hurt over something you never had?
Because you do have something, another part of you argued. The late-night texts. The way he always picked you for teams. How he gave you his hoodie when you were cold, even though you pretended not to notice how he shivered the rest of the night.
But maybe that was all in your head, too.
You avoided the boys for the rest of the day.
When your phone buzzed, you ignored it. When Jacob called, you let it go to voicemail. You told your mom you were tired and went to bed early, staring at the ceiling with your heart lodged somewhere behind your teeth.
The next day, you thought you might get away with slipping under the radar.
You were wrong.
You barely stepped foot onto the little path behind your house when Embry appeared like some giant, pissed-off ninja, arms crossed over his chest.
âThere you are.â
You jumped, hand flying to your chest. âAre you trying to give me a heart attack?â
âMaybe,â he said flatly. âThen youâd have to stop running away from me.â
You bristled instantly. âIâm not running away.â
He stepped closer, eyes dark with something like hurt. âYou bailed yesterday. You didnât answer your phone. Jake thought you were mad at him at first, but then I realized you donât usually avoid him unless youâre mad at me. SoâŚâ He gestured between you. âWhat did I do?â
You swallowed, throat suddenly dry.
This was the part where you were supposed to brush it off. Tell a joke. Change the subject.
But the way he was looking at youâsolid, stubborn, like he wasnât going to just let it goâmade your carefully stacked excuses start to wobble.
âYou didnât do anything,â you said weakly. âItâs fine.â
âY/N.â His voice was softer now. âDonât do that. Talk to me.â
You made the mistake of meeting his eyes.
That was your downfall. It always was.
There was something open there, something that made your chest ache. Like he actually cared what you said. Like your feelings mattered.
And that made everything come spilling out.
âItâs justââ You blew out a shaky breath, hands curling into fists at your sides. âI get it, okay?â
Embry frowned. âGet what?â
âYou and Bella,â you said, hating how your voice cracked. âYou donât have to pretend like nothingâs changed. Iâm not stupid.â
His confusion deepened. âWhat are you talking about?â
You laughed, sharp and small. âYou donât have to lie, Embry. I was right there. I saw the way you looked at her.â
There it was. The ugly truth, half-whispered between you.
For a second, he just stared at you.
Then, slowly, realization dawned across his face, followed by something like horror.
âOh my God,â he said. âYou think I like Bella?â
Your cheeks burned. âDid you⌠not hear anything I just said?â
âI heard you,â he said quickly. âI justâIâm trying to figure out how your brain got there.â
âIt wasnât that hard,â you snapped, temper sparking now that the dam had cracked. âYou were allââ You waved your hands. âSmiling and flirty and impressed. Just like every other guy around her, by the way. So yeah, I put two and two together.â
Embry stared at you like youâd grown a second head. Then he huffed out a breath, dragged a hand down his face, and stepped closer.
âY/N,â he said carefully, like he was explaining something to a very agitated cat. âI donât like Bella.â
You rolled your eyes, your hurt scrambling to protect itself. âYou donât have to say that just because Iâmââ
âJealous?â he supplied.
The word hung between you, electric.
You flinched, looking away. âForget it.â
âHey.â His voice was gentle now, but firm. His fingers brushed your wrist, just a ghost of a touch. âLook at me.â
You didnât want to. You really, really didnât. But you did.
Embryâs face was open, no teasing, no smirk. Just earnest, heart-in-his-eyes honesty.
âI donât like Bella,â he repeated. âI was being polite. I was messing with Jake. Thatâs it.â
âYouâre lying.â
âWhy would I lie about that?â he asked, exasperated. âDo you seriously think Iâd be that guy? Flirting with one girl right in front of the girl I actually like?â
Your brain stuttered. ââŚWhat?â
He blinked. Then blinked again.
You watched the realization hit himâwhat heâd just admitted. Color crawled up his neck, all the way to his ears.
âOh,â he said quietly. âShit.â
Your heart was beating so fast you thought you might pass out. âThe girl you actually⌠like?â
Embry swallowed. âYeah.â
âAnd that isâŚ?â
He stared at you, eyes flicking between yours like he was trying to see the right answer written in them.
âDo I really have to spell it out?â he asked hoarsely. âYou got jealous over some imaginary crush on Bella when Iâve spent the last year tripping over myself every time you walk into a room.â
Your mouth went dry. âYou have not.â
âI have,â he insisted. âWho do I always sit next to at bonfires? Who do I text first when something dumb happens? Who do I give my hoodie to every time you say youâre âfineâ but your lips are turning blue?â
âThatâs just because youâre nice,â you argued weakly.
âY/N.â His voice dropped. âI donât have a hoodie inventory for anyone else. Itâs literally just you.â
You wanted to argue. You wanted to cling to your narrative because that was easier than letting hope wedge itself into the cracks of your heart.
But he kept going.
âAnd you know that thing where Jake says I always smile when you show up?â he said. âOr how Quil keeps calling you my âemotional support humanâ?â
You remembered. You remembered all of it. Youâd blushed, laughed it off. Youâd forced yourself not to read into it.
âThose arenât jokes to me,â Embry said quietly. âNot really.â
You stared at him, the world narrowing to the small space between your bodies.
âSo⌠you donât think Bellaâs⌠better?â you asked, voice barely a whisper. âPrettier? Cooler? More worthâwhatever?â
He looked like he wanted to shake you, then kiss you, then shake you again.
âBellaâs great,â he said. âSheâs Jakeâs girl, even if she doesnât know it yet. And yeah, sheâs pretty. Whatever. But sheâs not you.â
Your throat got tight. âThat sounds like a line.â
âItâs not.â He stepped close enough that his chest nearly brushed yours. âBellaâs the main character in, like, ten boysâ stories. That doesnât matter to me. Youâre the main character in mine.â
You made a tiny, wounded sort of sound, half laugh, half sob. âEmbryââ
âI donât care if youâve got a stain on your hoodie,â he pressed on. âI donât care if you trip over air or snort when you laugh or spend ten minutes ranting about crappy movie endings. Thatâs my favorite shit. Thatâs the stuff I replay when I canât sleep.â
You stared at him. âYou replay me snorting.â
He huffed out a laugh, eyes shining. âNot exactly the snort. More like the way you light up when youâre actually having fun. You think Iâd trade that for some girl I barely know, just because sheâsâwhat? Mysterious?â
You swallowed. âThe universe seems to think sheâs everything.â
âYeah, well, the universe doesnât know you like I do,â he said softly. âThe universe hasnât seen you fall asleep sitting up against my shoulder in the Rabbit because you stayed up late helping me study. The universe didnât watch you show up with that stupid neon band-aid when I cut my hand, like it was some kind of life-or-death emergency.â
âYou were bleeding,â you mumbled.
âIt was a paper cut,â he said dryly. âYou still looked like you were going to fist-fight the notebook.â
Despite yourself, a small, shaky laugh escaped you.
Embryâs shoulders loosened at the sound, like heâd been holding his breath.
âI like you,â he said simply. âI have for a while. And yeah, maybe I was clumsy about it and you misunderstood. But if you honestly think I could walk into a room with you and anyone else and be looking at them instead?â He shook his head. âYouâre out of your mind.â
Silence stretched between you, filled with the soft rush of the wind through the trees and the pounding of your heart.
ââŚWhy didnât you say something?â you finally asked. âBefore?â
He shrugged, the movement small. âYou laugh off everything. Every time someone teased us, you acted like it was the funniest joke in the world. I thought⌠I donât know. That you didnât feel the same. That if I said anything, Iâd screw it up and lose you completely.â
He met your gaze, eyes dark and earnest. âI can handle a lot of things, Y/N. But losing you? Thatâs not on the list.â
Your anger had long since melted, leaving behind raw, trembling vulnerability.
âYouâre sure?â you asked softly. âYouâre really, actually talking about me right now?â
He rolled his eyes fondly. âNo, the other girl who ran away because she thought I liked Bella. Yes, you.â
You took a breath.
âI was jealous,â you admitted, the words feeling both terrifying and freeing. âI saw the way you smiled at her and I just⌠I thought, âOf course. Of course itâs her again. Of course Iâm never the one anyone picks.ââ
Embryâs expression crumpled.
âHey,â he murmured, reaching up to cup your cheek gently, thumb grazing your skin. âDonât say that. Not about yourself.â
âItâs true.â
âItâs not.â His voice was firm now. âMaybe other people were too blind to see what was right in front of them, but Iâm not. Iâm not going anywhere. Especially not for Bella Swan.â
You didnât even realize you were crying until his thumb brushed away a tear.
âSorry,â you whispered. âI didnât⌠I didnât want to make this weird.â
He huffed a soft laugh. âKind of late for that, donât you think?â
You laughed wetly, swatting weakly at his chest. âShut up.â
âMake me,â he said, automatic and teasing.
You hesitated only a second before you rose up on your toes and pressed your mouth to his.
For a heartbeat, everything went still. No wind, no distant waves. Just the soft shock of Embryâs lips under yours.
Then he moved, kissing you back with such careful intensity that you thought your knees might give out. One hand slid to the back of your neck, the other settling at your waist, anchoring you.
It was warm. It was a little clumsy. It was perfect.
When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours in little puffs.
âSo,â he said, voice slightly hoarse. âDoes this mean I get to call you my jealous, overthinking, main-character girlfriend now?â
You sniffed, half laughing. âThat depends.â
His brows lifted. âOn what?â
âOn whether youâre going to keep flirting with girls who touch your motorcycle,â you said, narrowing your eyes playfully.
He barked out a laugh. âOh, that? That was purely âdonât make Jake look like a loserâ flirting. I promise. I only have the real kind for you.â
You rolled your eyes, but your heart was doing cartwheels. âYouâre such a dork.â
âYour dork,â he corrected, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose. âAnd for the record? Next time you get jealous, maybe talk to me before you run off, yeah? I canât chase you halfway across La Push every time your brain decides to lie to you.â
You groaned, covering your face with your hands. âPlease donât say the word âjealousâ ever again.â
He gently tugged your hands away, lacing his fingers with yours. âFine. Iâll just call it what it really is.â
You raised a brow. âAnd whatâs that?â
He smiled, soft and sure. âYou caring about me as much as I care about you.â
Your cheeks flamed, but you didnât look away this time.
âOkay,â you said quietly. âWe can call it that.â
âGood,â he said. âNow, câmon. Jakeâs going to freak if we donât show up and torment him about his not-a-crush on Bella.â
You snorted. âYouâre really going to give him shit for that?â
âAbsolutely,â Embry said. âGotta keep the balance. Jacob pines after Bella, Bella pines after someone else, and Iââ
He squeezed your hand, eyes glittering.
âI get the girl who actually wants me back.â
You rolled your eyes, but your smile wouldnât be contained.
âYeah, yeah, Call,â you said, letting him tug you down the path. âJust donât forget who youâre bringing to the bonfire tonight.â
He bumped his shoulder against yours. âHow could I? Youâre the only one I see.â
And this time, when he smiled, you didnât wonder who it was for.
You already knew.Â
Disclaimer:
I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.Â
Back hugs when youâre cooking or standing at the edge of the water.
He will 100% pull you onto his lap if youâre cold and pretend itâs just for âbody heat.â
Words of affirmation:
Hyping you up over everything: outfit, test, small success, literally you just existing.
Sends chaotic little texts if youâre away:
âMiss u. Also saw a squirrel that reminded me of u, donât ask.â
Dates with Seth
Beach bonfires with the pack where he sneaks you extra marshmallows.
Late-night walks in the forest where he shifts and runs alongside you just to show off a little, then nudges your hand with his snout.
Movie nights where he refuses to let you sit more than one inch away from him, âfor optimal cuddling conditions.â
Quiet La Push evenings: him lying with his head in your lap while you card your fingers through his hair and he rambles about anything and everything.
With the Pack Around
The pack teases the life out of him:
âSeth, your heartâs loud again, calm down, they just smiled.â
He is proudly, aggressively whipped, and doesnât care who knows.
If someone jokes at your expense, heâs the first to go, âHey, that wasnât funny.â
You become the unofficial morale boost of the group; when things get intense, Seth looks at you once, breathes, and keeps going.
Jealousy & Protection
Seth doesnât get super jealous, he gets nervously possessive in a sweet way.
If someone flirts with you, heâll sidle closer, hand sliding into yours, smiling but eyes sharp.
The only time he truly snaps is if someone threatens you.
Happy, sunshine Seth goes dead serious, steps in front of you, that deep alpha-ready growl in his chest even if heâs not the alpha.
Comforting You
If youâre upset, he gets this heartbroken, kicked-puppy look.
Quietly pulls you to his chest and just holds you, one hand rubbing slow circles on your back.
âYou donât have to explain yet. Just breathe, okay? Iâve got you.â
Brings you snacks, hoodies, and his favorite blanket that âsmells like homeâ (aka, him).
When Heâs Upset
Tries to pretend everythingâs fine, but he canât fake it with you.
Ends up sitting next to you, shoulders tense, picking at a loose thread on his jeans until you ask: âSeth. Whatâs wrong?â
Once you coax it out of him, he talks with his whole heartâno half-truths, no holding back.
Falls asleep best when youâre petting his hair or tracing patterns on his arm.
Future Stuff
Talks about the future like itâs obvious youâre in it:
âWhen we get a place,â
âOur future dog,â
âIf we have kids, theyâre definitely getting your personality.â
Wants a house near the ocean so he can still hear the waves and run patrols, but always come back to you.
No matter how old he gets, heâs still the boy who lights up every time you walk into a room.
Disclaimer:
I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.Â
hi! I couldnât leave a comment but I just wanted to say that your âGravity has Teethâ work is one of the best things I have ever read!!!! OMG it was so good and I just wanted to say youâre an excellent writer! Have a great day!
Omg!! Thank you so much! And thank you for reading my work!!
Heyy I loved the one thing I didnât want. Is it possible for a pt2??????
The One Thing I Didnât Want â
Part Two: Trial by Truce
Pairing: Jacob Black Ă Reader (enemies-to-lovers, imprint AU)
Summary:
After Jacob imprints on Bellaâs sarcastic best friend in the middle of a fight, everything gets complicated fast. A tense âlet it be weirdâ deal on the beach leaves Y/N rattled and Jacob desperate to respect her boundaries while the imprint pulls at him like gravity. When avoidance, half-measures, and awkward small talk stop working, a rainy day on First Beach forces them to finally talk about what the bond really meansâand whether they can choose each other without losing themselves.
Warnings:
mild cursing, arguments, emotional conflict, anxiety/feeling trapped, hurt/comfort, imprint bond themes, soft protective Jacob, lots of fluff toward the end
La Push never really leaves her.
For a few days after the beach, âletting it be weirdâ almost works.
Almost.
Y/N still thinks about the way his eyes had locked on hers, how the whole world seemed to narrow and sharpen whenever he looked at her like that. She still feels the echo of the bond drumming in her veins when sheâs alone in her room at night, staring at the ceiling and pretending her heart isnât trying to beat to someone elseâs rhythm.
But in the daylight, they play at normal.
Bella drives them out once or twice, under the excuse of âdropping something offâ or âchecking on Jacob.â The pack watches like theyâre bingeing their favorite show. Y/N stands a few feet away from Jacob, tossing him snarky comments like pebbles instead of knives, and he throws them back softer than before.
Itâs⌠tolerable.
Weird, yeah. Too aware. Every brush of fingers, every too-long look feels like a tripwire. But itâs something.
Then it gets to be too much.
It starts with a text.
JACOB: You made it home ok?
She stares at the screen for a long second, thumb hovering, then types:
Y/N: Yeah.
She doesnât hit send.
Instead, she erases the reply, flips the phone face-down, and tells herself she doesnât owe him reassurance, or explanations, or anything at all.
After that, the avoidance snowballs.
She takes the long way home so she doesnât have to drive past the turnoff to La Push. She makes excuses when Bella suggests visiting. She leaves her phone on Do Not Disturb so she doesnât watch Jacobâs name light up her screen.
JACOB: Did I do something?
JACOB: If you donât want me to text Iâll stop. Just say it.
JACOB: Iâm trying to respect what you said. Let it be weird. I just⌠I still worry.
She reads them. Every single one. Her chest aches and the bond hums in the back of her mind like static, but she doesnât answer.
Let it be weird, sheâd told him.
Somehow itâs turned into letting it hurt.
He shows up at her house on the third day.
She knows itâs him before her guardian even knocks. The bond has become that annoyingâan internal weather vane that swings sharply toward him the second he steps within range.
âSweetheart?â comes the voice through her door. âJacobâs here. Do you wantâŚ?â
âNo,â Y/N says, too fast. âI meanâtell him Iâm busy. Please.â
Thereâs a pause, a quiet little sigh that says this isnât going away just because you shut your door. âAll right.â
She imagines Jacob on the porch, hands jammed in his pockets, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the steps. She imagines the moment her guardian says, âSheâs not available right now,â and his shoulders flinch almost imperceptibly.
The thought makes her stomach twist.
But she stays where she is, sitting on the floor between her bed and the wall, like she can wedge herself into the narrowest space possible and hide from the pull in her chest.
Imprint. Soulmate. Wolves.
It still sounds like a bad joke. The worst part is that the universe isnât laughing.
Down at Samâs place, the pack is merciless.
âHeâs back,â Paul announces from the kitchen window, tone gleefully obnoxious. âPacing, round three. At this point we should start charging him rent on the grass.â
âShut up,â Jacob mutters without heat, scrubbing a hand over his face.
Emily sets a plate down in front of him with a soft clink. âEat,â she says. âBrooding is not a meal.â
âIâm not brooding,â he lies.
Embry flops into the chair across from him. âSo sheâs ghosting you now?â
âThank you for the update I definitely needed,â Jacob says flatly.
Seth, perched on the arm of the couch, swings his legs. âMaybe she just needs some time. It was a lot. âHey, guess what, soulmates are real and you pulled the short strawâ is kind of intense.â
Quil snorts. âOf all the girls in Forks, it had to be Bellaâs scary best friend. Thatâs karma.â
âI hate all of you,â Jacob says, but itâs tired around the edges.
Sam leans against the counter, arms crossed. âHave you tried backing off a little?â
âI did,â Jacob shoots back. âI didnât text for a day after she asked me not to follow her. And now she wonât even look at me.â
Leah, whoâs been leaning in the doorway listening, finally chimes in. âMaybe sheâs testing you.â
Jacob blinks. âTesting me how?â
âTo see if youâre actually going to respect what she said,â Leah replies. âYou told her youâd let it be weird and give her space. Space doesnât come with a time limit in fine print.â
He groans. âSo what do I do? Just⌠sit here and feel like my organs are rearranging themselves every time sheâs upset with me?â
âWelcome to imprinting,â Quil says cheerfully.
Sam shoots him a look.
Leah pushes off the doorway. âLook, she doesnât want the bond to be the only reason youâre trying,â she says. âYou were enemies. Then you were⌠whatever you are now. She needs to know you like her outside of the cosmic wolf thing.â Her gaze sharpens. âDo you?â
Jacob hesitates only a second. âYeah,â he says quietly. âI do.â
The universe, with its usual flair for drama, picks rain for the rematch.
Y/N leaves the house because she canât breathe inside it anymoreâcanât stand staring at the same four walls knowing Jacobâs been on her porch, knowing sheâs the one who asked him to give her weirdness and then punished him for doing it wrong.
She forgets an umbrella. She doesnât care.
First Beach is almost empty, all soft gray light and the hush of waves. The air smells like salt and wet earth. She kicks off her shoes and lets the cold sand numb her toes, wind tugging at her clothes.
Sheâs halfway down the stretch of shoreline when she hears him.
âY/N!â
Of course.
She closes her eyes briefly. âYou have got to be kidding me,â she mutters, then turns.
Heâs jogging toward her, hair damp from the drizzle, t-shirt clinging to his chest, expression tight in that way sheâs starting to recognize as equal parts stubborn and scared.
âYouâre going to catch a cold,â Jacob says, because apparently thatâs his icebreaker.
She stares. âSeriously? Thatâs your opening line?â
His mouth twists. âI⌠didnât have a speech prepared, okay?â
âYouâre a werewolf,â she says. âYou donât get colds.â
âYou do.â He takes a breath. âCan we talk? Please.â
She almost says no on reflex. But the bond â that stupid, invisible thread â pulls taut under her skin, humming with something that feels too much like relief.
âFine,â she says. âTalk.â
He glances around, then gestures toward a big piece of driftwood backing up against the dunes. They end up facing each other with a few feet of damp sand between them, the waves crashing a steady rhythm behind his words.
âYou disappeared,â he says, blunt because he doesnât know how else to be. âAfter you said we could⌠be around each other. Let it be weird. I was trying to do what you asked, and then suddenly youâre gone.â
âI didnât disappear,â she shoots back. âI just stopped signing up for emotional whiplash field trips.â
He flinches. âIâm trying to figure this out. The imprint. You. Us. Iâm trying not to push you away more than I already have.â
âYou think this is about you pushing me away?â Y/N laughs, harsh and thin. âJacob, youâre the one getting yanked around by the universe. Iâm just⌠collateral damage.â
His jaw works. âThatâs not what you are.â
âOh, really?â She gestures vaguely between them. âBecause everyone keeps explaining what this bond does to you. How it makes you protective, how you feel everything sharper, how Iâm the center of your gravity now, blah blah blah. And me?â She taps her chest. âNo one can tell me what it does in here. Except that when you look at me like Iâm the only person on the planet, it feels like my life got hijacked.â
He stares at her, rain beading on his lashes. âIâm not trying to hijack anything.â
âIt doesnât matter if youâre trying!â Her voice wobbles; she hates it. âItâs still there. This⌠pull. I spent years thinking you were insufferable, Jacob. And now my stupid heart keeps tripping over itself every time youâre in the same zip code.â
He looks wrecked. âDo you think thatâs fun for me?â he asks quietly. âYou think I like that I can feel it every time you get even a little bit upset? That when you walked away on the beach I had to stand there and let you, because if I followed you Iâd be the exact monster you already think I am?â
Her anger stutters at the edges.
âI didnât think you were a monster,â she says, softer. âI just⌠didnât want to be a prize you won in some supernatural lottery.â
His shoulders loosen a fraction. He takes a cautious step closer. âYouâre not,â he says. âYouâre not a prize, or an assignment, or a job I got stuck with. Youâreââ He breaks off, drags a hand over his face. âI donât have the words for what you are. I just know I noticed all your crap before I phased.â
That catches her.
âNoticed what?â she asks warily.
He huffs. âThat you tap your pencil when youâre thinking. That you pretend you hate group projects but still end up doing most of the work so it doesnât suck. That you get this lineââ He lifts his hand slowly, gives her time to move away. When she doesnât, he touches the spot between her brows, feather-light. ââwhen someone underestimates you.â
Her breath hitches.
âI thought you were just annoying,â he admits, mouth tilting. âTurns out I was obsessed.â
âObsessed,â she repeats, incredulous.
He flushes. âIn a non-creepy way.â
âThatâs not how that word works.â
A weak laugh slips out of her in spite of herself. The rain has turned to a fine mist, clinging to his hair, making it curl at the ends.
âSo what, then?â she asks. âYou liked me before the wolf thing, the universe turned up the volume, and now youâre stuck with it?â
He considers that, then nods once. âPretty much.â
âAnd Iâm supposed to just⌠accept that?â
âNo,â he says immediately. âYouâre supposed to decide what you want, regardless of what my bones are doing. The imprint doesnât own you.â His voice drops. âI donât own you.â
Something in her chest eases at that. Just a little.
âThen what are you asking for?â she whispers.
He swallows, Adamâs apple bobbing. âA chance,â he says. âTo prove I can be⌠I donât know. Someone you donât want to throat-punch on sight.â His mouth quirks. âWe said weâd let it be weird. Maybe we make it more⌠official.â
Her eyes narrow. âOfficial how?â
âA truce.â
The word hangs there between them, unexpected and fragile.
âA truce,â she repeats slowly.
He nods. âWe canât go back to hating each other. Not really. And Iâm not asking you to flip a switch and suddenly be okay with âsoulmate.â So⌠we meet in the middle. No more cheap shots. No more trying to win every argument just to see who flinches first. We figure out how to be⌠friends.â
âFriends,â she echoes, like sheâs testing the word on her tongue.
âFor now,â he adds quickly. âIf thatâs all you ever want, Iâll deal. Iâll probably be miserable, but Iâll deal. Because your choice matters more than whatever cosmic nonsense is glued to my ribs.â
She studies him.
He looks ridiculous and sincere and soaking wet. His t-shirt is plastered to his chest, his hands are empty at his sides like heâs trying very hard not to reach for her, and his eyesâthose traitorous, lightning-struck eyesâare steady.
âFriends donât usually stare at each other like that,â she mutters.
âIâm in a complicated situation,â he says, deadpan.
Against her will, she laughs.
Silence stretches, but it isnât as sharp now. The bond hums, lighter, like itâs waiting.
Finally, she sighs. âFine,â she says. âTruce.â
His shoulders sag with relief. âYeah?â
âDonât make me repeat it.â
He grins, bright and boyish, and before she can regret anything he holds out his hand.
Itâs stupidly formal. Stupidly him.
She eyes it. âIf I shake, youâre not going to declare some alpha-wolf law and say I signed a contract, right?â
He snorts. âNo law. Just⌠a promise. Iâll try not to screw it up.â
She hesitates one more beat, then slides her hand into his.
The imprint flares, hot and electric, but this time it doesnât feel like chains closing. It feels like a path opening under her feet.
âTruce,â she says again, softer.
His fingers tighten around hers. âTruce.â
The pack is unbearable about it, obviously.
âSo what youâre saying is,â Quil says later at Emilyâs table, âweâre in the friends-to-lovers stage now.â
âWeâre in the mind your own business stage,â Jacob replies, shoving him.
Emily hides a smile behind her hand. âHow did it go?â she asks Y/N gently.
Y/N pokes at the muffin on her plate. âHe talked like a person instead of a prophecy this time,â she says. âIt helped.â
âHe also gave her his jacket,â Paul sing-songs from across the room. âReal subtle, Romeo.â
âHe was wet,â Y/N argues, and then realizes how that sounds. âI meanâit was raining andâoh, forget it.â
Leah, lounging against the counter, smirks. âTheyâre right about one thing,â she says. âYou two are going to fall for each other.â
âCanât hear you,â Y/N says quickly, sticking her fingers in her ears.
Jacob chuckles under his breath, shoulders brushing hers where they stand side by side. The contact is casual, mostly. Part of the truce is that touching is⌠allowed, as long as no one calls it what it feels like.
He still checks, every time.
âYou good?â he murmurs.
She glances up at him. âYouâre hovering.â
âIs that a no?â
âItâs an âI will let you know if Iâm notâ,â she says, then adds more quietly, âIâm good. For now.â
For the first time since the imprint, âfor nowâ doesnât sound like a death sentence. It sounds like room to breathe.
The weirdness doesnât evaporate overnight.
Sometimes the bond spikes without warning, like when she laughs too hard at something Seth says and Jacob feels this ridiculous little bloom of pride in his chest. Sometimes she gets overwhelmed and steps outside, and he has to physically stop himself from following.
Sometimes old habits slip back inâhe makes a snide remark, she snaps sharper than she means to, and they both go stiff with the ghost of every fight theyâve ever had.
The difference is, now they catch it.
âSorry,â he mutters one afternoon after a comment lands wrong. âThat came out like high-school Jacob. Iâm still house-training him.â
She snorts despite herself. âI knew it.â
âYou knew what?â
âThat you were secretly part gremlin,â she says. âThe wolf thing was just a cover.â
His answering grin is brighter than the weak La Push sun overhead.
On another day, itâs her misstep.
Theyâre on the porch at Emilyâs, watching the others pelt each other with rocks down on the beach. Y/Nâs leaning on the railing, Jacob sitting on the top step below her, close enough that his shoulder brushes her knee.
âYou ever going to tell Bella?â she asks suddenly.
âTell her what?â he says, even though he knows.
âThat you imprinted on her best friend instead of her.â Y/N keeps her tone light, but something tightens around the words.
He goes very still. âI donât⌠think thatâs how Iâd phrase it,â he says carefully.
âWhy not?â she presses, and that edge sneaks into her voice, the one that wants to test the limits, find the weak spots. âIsnât that what this is? Fate taking pity on you because she picked a vampire?â
He turns to look at her, eyes dark. For a heartbeat, the old Jacob flares in his expressionâvolatile, sharp. Then he swallows it down.
âIf that were true,â he says quietly, âit would make you a consolation prize, wouldnât it?â
She opens her mouth, then closes it.
âI donât think youâre a consolation prize,â he continues. âI never have. Even when I was too busy being pissed off at you to admit it.â
The anger drains out of her as quickly as it came. Shame rushes in to replace it.
âIâm sorry,â she mutters. âThat was⌠mean.â
âIt was honest,â he says with a little shrug. âYouâre allowed to think it. Just⌠donât stay there, okay? I want you to be the first choice in your own story.â
The words land somewhere deep inside her, in a place thatâs been hollow for a long time.
âOkay,â she says quietly. âIâll try.â
He offers her a half-smile. âTruce?â he asks, holding up a pinky this time.
She rolls her eyes. âWe already shook on it.â
âYeah, but this is for the bonus round.â
She sighs, but curls her pinky around his anyway.
The bond hums, pleased.
That night, Y/N finds herself back on First Beach alone.
The sky is clear for once, stars scattered in a thick band overhead. The ocean whispers against the shore. She hugs her knees to her chest, Jacobâs jacket pooled around her like a borrowed shadow.
Let it be weird, sheâd said.
It is weird. Itâs weird to miss his voice when itâs quiet. Itâs weird to feel safer with him around even when he drives her up the wall. Itâs weird to know there is something written in his bones that has her name on it, and for the first time⌠not hate it.
Footsteps crunch softly over the sand behind her.
âYouâre getting predictable, you know,â she says without turning. âFirst Beach, dramatic lighting, broody wolfboy incoming.â
He huffs a laugh and drops down beside her, leaving a careful gap. âI can go,â he offers. âIf you wanted actual alone time.â
She hesitates, then shakes her head. âItâs fine. Iâve been alone in my own brain for days. Itâs loud in there.â
âI know the feeling,â he says wryly.
They sit in silence for a while, listening to the waves.
âDo you still not want this?â she asks suddenly.
He doesnât pretend not to understand. âThe imprint?â he clarifies.
âYeah.â
He thinks about the question longer than she expects.
âWhen it first happened, all I could think was ânot herâ,â he admits. âBecause we were already a mess. Because you didnât like me. Because I didnât want⌠this kind of power over anyone.â He flexes his fingers against his knees. âIt felt like a cageâfor both of us.â
âAnd now?â she presses, heartbeat picking up.
âNowâŚâ He exhales slowly. âNow it feels like a lot of things. Still scary. Still intense. But alsoâŚâ He glances sideways at her, eyes soft. âI like you. I like youâyour brain, your mouth, the way you argue, the way you care about people when you pretend you donât. If the bond disappeared tomorrow, Iâd still be in trouble.â
Her face goes hot. âThatâs a stupid answer,â she mutters.
âYeah,â he says. âBut itâs the truth.â
She stares out at the water, chewing her lip.
âIâm still not promising anything,â she says at last.
âI know,â he replies. âIâm still not asking you to.â
âBut Iâm⌠not running anymore,â she adds, voice barely above the surf. âIf that helps.â
He goes quiet, and she can feel rather than see the way his whole body loosens, some deep tension easing.
âIt helps,â he says hoarsely. âA lot.â
She shifts, closing the gap between them until their shoulders touch. He goes absolutely still, like one wrong move might spook her.
âThis doesnât mean you get to win all our arguments,â she warns.
He lets out a shaky laugh. âWouldnât dream of it.â
âGood. Because youâre wrong about most things.â
âI picked the right person, though,â he says under his breath.
She pointedly pretends not to hear that. The bond hears it anyway, buzzing warm and steady under her skin.
They sit like that until the cold finally starts to bite. When she shivers, he glances down at her.
âCan Iâ?â he starts, tilting his head toward his shoulder.
She rolls her eyes. âYouâre ridiculous,â she says, but leans her head against him anyway.
His breath stutters.
The universe might have written the bond in his bones, but thisâleaning into his warmth on a quiet beach under a stretch of starsâis hers.
Hers to take or leave. Hers to grow slowly, stubbornly, into something chosen.
âHey, Jacob?â she murmurs, half-asleep.
âYeah?â
âDonât make me regret this truce.â
He smiles into the dark. âIâll do my best.â
âYouâd better,â she says, and lets her eyes close.
For the first time since the imprint, the future doesnât feel like a sentence.
It feels like a story she hasnât finished arguing with yet.
And Jacobâannoying, earnest, impossibly devoted Jacobâis right there beside her, ready to fight his way through every chapter.
Disclaimer:
I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.Â