#forkshighschooler

[forkshighschooler]

Can the trend where the girlfriend grabs their lover's phone while they are eating, making their lover was grabbing their food with the pack.

I Was Grabbing Your Phone, Not Your Food!

Pairings:Twilight Wolf Pack x Female!Reader (Featuring: Paul Lahote, Embry Call, Jacob Black, Jared Cameron, Quil Ateara, Sam Uley, Seth Clearwater, and Leah Clearwater x GN!Partner)

Summary:You’re just trying to grab your boyfriend’s (or girlfriend’s) phone during a meal… but the Twilight wolf pack members instantly assume you’re after their food. Chaos, dramatic overreactions, and a lot of laughter follow in this playful trend-based scenario.

Warning:Pure fluff and humor! Mild language, possessive food behavior, and dramatic wolf-sized appetites ahead.

⸻

🐺 Paul Lahote

Paul’s mid-growl, hunched over his plate like he’s defending treasure. You reach across the table toward him—

His fork freezes. “Back up, baby.”

You blink. “What?”

“I love you, but if you touch this steak again—”

“I was grabbing your phone.”

He stares. Then clears his throat, all sheepish.

“…You can have the phone. Just not the steak. Never the steak.”

⸻

🐺 Embry Call

Embry’s got three tacos stacked in front of him. You casually reach across the table.

He gasps dramatically, snatching his plate and scooting back like you just declared war.

“NOT THE CRUNCHY ONE, THAT ONE’S MINE!”

You hold up his phone, confused. “I wasn’t even touching your food?”

“…Oh.”

He leans forward slowly. “I panicked. It’s muscle memory. You’ve stolen my fries too many times.”

⸻

🐺 Jacob Black

Jacob’s halfway into devouring a giant sandwich. You reach near his tray—

He grabs your wrist with lightning speed, eyes wide. “Don’t do this. Not like this.”

You burst out laughing. “I was just grabbing your phone!”

He lets go immediately and grins. “Oh, my bad. Reflexes. Sandwiches are sacred.”

⸻

🐺 Jared Cameron

You lean over the table, arm out.

Jared immediately turns his whole body to shield his plate.

“Babe. Babe. BABE. Please. Don’t do this in public.”

You blink at him. “It’s your phone I’m grabbing.”

He pauses.

“Oh. Then carry on. I thought you were about to start a war for the last mozzarella stick.”

⸻

🐺 Quil Ateara

You reach for his side of the table. Quil yells, “I SEE YOU!” and tries to block you with a napkin like it’s a shield.

“YOU ALREADY TOOK TWO FRIES, THAT’S ENOUGH.”

You hold up the phone with a confused look. “Quil… I wasn’t stealing food this time.”

He lowers the napkin slowly.

“Oh. Then my bad. Proceed, my queen.”

⸻

🐺 Sam Uley

You reach across the table and Sam raises a calm eyebrow but subtly pulls his plate closer.

“You sure you want to do this while I’m eating?”

You roll your eyes. “Relax, it’s your phone.”

“Oh.”

He slides it over instantly. “Thought we were about to relive last week’s muffin incident.”

⸻

🐺 Seth Clearwater

You reach toward him, and sweet Seth instantly looks hurt.

“Wait—you want my garlic bread?”

You hold up his phone with a confused laugh. “No? Just this.”

His whole body relaxes in relief.

“Oh thank God, I thought I was about to cry.”

⸻

🐺 Leah Clearwater

Leah is absolutely focused, tearing into her burger like it’s her sworn enemy. You casually reach toward her phone sitting next to her plate.

Before you can even touch it, she slaps your hand away—fast.

“Try me,” she warns, not even looking up. “Touch my fries and we’re done.”

You blink. “I was grabbing your phone, not your food!”

She finally looks up, pauses, then shrugs.

“Oh. Okay. My bad.”

…Then pulls the fries closer anyway.

“Still. Hands off just in case.”

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.

[forkshighschooler]

Hey do you think you could write an enemies to lovers with Jacob where he imprints on her and has no clue what to do since they don’t like eachother

The One Thing I Didn’t Want

Pairing: Jacob Black × Reader

Summary: Bella drags her calm, sarcastic friend to La Push to check on Jacob after he’s been avoiding her. The pack’s there, Jacob’s irritated, Reader pushes his buttons — and in the middle of a heated argument, he imprints on her in front of everyone.

Tone: enemies-to-lovers, emotional, chaotic, with a mix of teasing humor and raw imprint tension.

Ending: unresolved but charged — Jacob doesn’t know how to handle it, Reader doesn’t believe it, and the pack is left stunned.

La Push looked exactly the way it always had — gray clouds stitched low over the trees, air sharp with salt and pine. But to Y/N, it felt different now. Maybe because Bella wouldn’t stop pacing beside her car, chewing her lip like it was a hobby.

“He won’t talk to me anymore,” Bella muttered. “I just—maybe if you come, he won’t slam the door in my face again.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow. “You want me to be your emotional bodyguard against a guy who growls for a living?”

“Please.”

Y/N sighed, locked her car, and followed. She’d met Jacob Black enough times to know they didn’t mix. He was loud, impulsive, and thought sarcasm was a sport he could win. She, on the other hand, preferred quiet and precision — the kind of person who could slice someone open with a deadpan comment and never raise her voice.

Bella knocked on the small red-brown door. Voices drifted from the backyard, male laughter overlapping, a dog-pile of noise.

“Great,” Y/N muttered. “He’s got an audience.”

They rounded the house and found six boys crowded around a picnic table, food everywhere. Sam Uley, tall and calm, was clearly in charge. Embry Call and Quil Ateara were throwing potato chips at each other. And at the center of it — shirtless, muscular, and clearly irritated — sat Jacob Black.

The second he saw them, the laughter faded.

“Bella,” he said flatly.

“Hey, Jake.”

Sam’s gaze flicked to her, then to Y/N. His expression tightened, but he said nothing.

Y/N crossed her arms. “Don’t stop the party on our account.”

Jacob’s jaw flexed. “What are you doing here, Y/N?”

“Bella wanted to make sure you’re not dead,” she said coolly. “So far, so good.”

Embry tried to hide a laugh. Jacob shot him a glare.

“Can we talk alone?” Bella asked.

“Not a good idea,” Sam said quietly. “We’re in the middle of something.”

Bella frowned. “Middle of what?”

Jacob’s eyes dropped, then lifted — and Y/N noticed something strange in them. A shimmer, like sunlight off dark water, before he looked away.

“Pack business,” he muttered.

“Right,” Y/N said. “Because you’re a secret club now?”

That earned her several grins. Paul Lahote snorted. “She’s got bite.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Jacob growled.

“Oh, I don’t need encouragement.”

Sam looked between them. “Maybe take a walk, Jacob. Clear the air.”

Jacob stood abruptly, chair scraping. “Fine.”

He stomped off toward the tree line, muttering under his breath. Bella followed — and Y/N, because she wasn’t about to let her friend wander into the woods with a guy built like a professional linebacker.

When they caught up, Jacob was pacing. “Bella, I told you not to come.”

“Because you’re mad? Or because you’re hiding something?” Y/N asked.

He spun, glare sharp. “You always have to talk, don’t you?”

“Usually when people act like jerks, yes.”

“Then maybe stay out of it.”

Y/N tilted her head, tone deceptively calm. “Can’t. It’s in my nature to annoy you.”

Something flickered in his expression — frustration, heat, something deeper. Then he turned away.

Bella sighed. “I’ll wait by the car.” She left, leaving Y/N and Jacob facing each other amid the trees.

“Great,” Y/N said. “Just what I wanted: alone time with Mr. Moodswing.”

Jacob barked a humorless laugh. “You think you know everything, huh?”

“I know enough to see you’ve been avoiding her and everyone else. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

He met her gaze — and then froze.

For a heartbeat, Y/N thought she’d said something wrong. His pupils widened, his chest stilled like he’d forgotten to breathe.

“Jacob?”

He blinked, swallowed hard. The world seemed to narrow around him. The sound of wind, the smell of earth — everything blurred until there was only her. Y/N. Every heartbeat in his body lined up with hers like they’d been rewired.

Oh, no.

Not her.

The pull slammed through him like gravity turned sideways. He could feel the others at the edge of his mind — the pack, the hive of thoughts he hated — and knew they felt it too.

Jake? Quil’s voice in his head was sharp with disbelief. No way.

He clenched his fists. “Shut up,” he muttered aloud.

Y/N frowned. “Excuse me?”

Before he could answer, a branch snapped behind them. The pack spilled out from the woods, drawn by the sudden flood of emotion echoing through their link.

“What the hell just happened?” Paul demanded.

“Jacob imprinted,” Quil said, half-laughing, half-in awe. “Holy crap, dude — on her?”

Every face turned toward Y/N.

She blinked. “I’m sorry — on who?”

Embry choked back a laugh. “Oh, this is rich.”

Jacob’s jaw tightened. His entire body trembled with the effort not to explode.

Sam stepped forward. “Jake.”

“I know,” Jacob ground out.

“What’s imprinting?” Y/N asked, arms crossed.

Paul grinned. “It’s when one of us wolves meets their soulmate. Can’t fight it, can’t change it. Happens once.”

Y/N stared. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Quil said cheerfully. “Congratulations, you just broke Jacob Black’s brain.”

“Shut up!” Jacob snapped.

The pack snickered; even Sam looked torn between amusement and concern.

Y/N took a step back. “Okay, this is officially insane.”

Jacob turned to her, panic and frustration battling behind his eyes. “It’s not— look, I didn’t—”

“Imprint on me?” she supplied, voice sharp with disbelief. “Yeah, that’s what they said.”

He exhaled hard. “I didn’t choose this.”

“Good. Because I didn’t either.”

Paul let out a low whistle. “This is going to be fun.”

Sam shot him a warning look. “Enough.” He turned to Y/N, voice gentler. “You should probably give him some space. This is… a lot.”

“Yeah,” Y/N said dryly, “I noticed.”

Jacob’s fists unclenched slowly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Never said you would.” Her tone softened — barely. “Just don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m the only person on the planet.”

Silence. Even the pack stopped breathing.

Y/N shook her head and turned toward the path. “Tell Bella I’m going home.”

She walked away before anyone could stop her.

The pack looked at Jacob.

“Man,” Embry said, trying not to grin, “you are so screwed.”

Jacob dropped onto a fallen log, elbows on his knees, hands buried in his hair. “You think I don’t know that?”

Sam sighed. “You’ll need to explain it to her. When she’s ready.”

“She hates me.”

“Not hate,” Quil said. “Mild loathing. Big difference.”

Paul smirked. “Still hilarious.”

Jacob threw him a glare. “Laugh it up, Lahote.”

But Paul’s grin faded as he caught the look in Jacob’s eyes — that raw, terrified vulnerability the imprint always carved open.

“Good luck, man,” he muttered, and followed the others back toward the house.

Jacob stayed there, listening to the sound of Y/N’s car engine fade. The bond hummed inside him like static, pulling in her direction. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t push it away.

He whispered to no one, “Why her?”

The forest gave no answer.

By the time Y/N’s car hit the highway out of La Push, her hands were shaking. Not from fear — from disbelief.

Imprint. Soulmate. Wolves.

It sounded like a bad joke, the kind Jacob Black would’ve told just to annoy her. The only problem was that he hadn’t been joking. And those guys — that pack — had looked dead serious.

Her phone buzzed. Bella.

BELLA: What happened??

Y/N: Long story. He’s fine.

BELLA: Did you talk to him?

Y/N: You could say that.

She turned the phone face-down. Every time she blinked, she saw Jacob’s eyes — the exact moment something inside him changed. That look like he’d just been struck by lightning and could see nothing but her.

It made her chest hurt in a way she didn’t like to name.

⸻

Back at Sam’s place, the pack hadn’t moved far. Laughter bubbled and died in turns — half amusement, half disbelief.

Quil threw a chip at Jacob. “So… how’s your soulmate doing?”

Jacob didn’t even glance up. “Don’t start.”

Embry leaned against the railing. “She really doesn’t like you, huh?”

Jacob gave him a dead stare. “You think?”

Paul snorted. “Man, of all the girls in Forks — it had to be Bella’s friend? That’s poetic justice.”

“Shut up, Paul.”

Sam finally intervened, voice calm but firm. “Enough. He’s got a lot to process.”

“Understatement,” Jacob muttered.

Sam crouched beside him. “You know what this means, right? You can’t fight the bond, Jake. You’ll feel it pulling.”

“I already do,” he admitted quietly. “Like she’s still standing right in front of me.”

Sam’s expression softened. “You can learn to handle it. Give her space. Let her come to you when she’s ready.”

Jacob shook his head. “She’s never going to be ready.”

“Maybe not today. But someday.”

Jacob didn’t answer. He just stared into the trees, where her car had disappeared, and tried to steady the storm inside him.

⸻

Two days later, Y/N found herself back in La Push. Against her better judgment.

Bella had begged her to drop off a textbook Jacob had left at her place — an excuse so transparent even Bella looked guilty about it. But Y/N had agreed anyway. Maybe she wanted closure. Maybe she wanted to prove the whole thing was ridiculous.

When she parked near the beach, the pack was there again, throwing rocks into the surf. She spotted Jacob instantly — tall, broad, hair tied back, wearing the same expression she remembered: equal parts anger and guilt.

Embry saw her first. “Uh-oh.”

Quil grinned. “Round two.”

Jacob turned. The second their eyes met, the world tilted again — not as violently this time, but with the same inevitability. His heartbeat found hers like it couldn’t help it.

Y/N swallowed hard. “Bella asked me to bring this.” She held up the book.

He walked over, careful, every step measured like he was approaching a wild animal.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I didn’t want to,” she said plainly.

A ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth — the first in days. “Still honest.”

“Still annoying,” she countered.

He took the book, their fingers brushing for a second too long. Heat sparked up her arm, the same dizzy pull she’d seen in his eyes. She pulled back quickly.

“Stop doing that,” she said, voice low.

“Doing what?”

“Looking at me like that.”

“I can’t help it.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. “It’s not something I can turn off.”

She studied him, expression unreadable. “So you really believe all that? That I’m your… imprint?”

His jaw tightened. “I don’t just believe it. I feel it. Every second.”

“That sounds like obsession.”

“It’s not.” He hesitated. “It’s… connection. You don’t have to feel it back. But I can’t ignore it.”

For a moment, the only sound was the ocean.

From behind them, Embry called, “Want us to give you two a minute, Romeo?”

“Go away!” Jacob shouted without turning.

Laughter echoed down the beach.

Y/N crossed her arms. “They’re enjoying this way too much.”

“They always do.”

“Then maybe we should give them a show,” she said dryly.

Jacob blinked, confused — until he saw the faint curve of her mouth. She was joking. Sort of.

Despite himself, he laughed. It was short, rough, but real.

“Guess the apocalypse isn’t today,” she said.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Silence fell again, heavier this time.

He looked at her, every word tasting like surrender. “I didn’t want this to happen. Not like this.”

Y/N’s tone softened. “I know.”

“I don’t even know how to be around you without… whatever this is getting in the way.”

“Maybe you don’t,” she said. “Maybe you just… be around me anyway. And let it be weird.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “You think that’ll work?”

“No. But it’ll annoy you, which is a decent consolation prize.”

That earned a small smile.

Behind them, Paul muttered, “They’re totally gonna fall for each other.”

“Shut up,” Jacob said, not looking away from her.

For a second, everything else disappeared — the pack, the waves, the confusion. Just her standing there, steady and impossible, like the universe had dropped an anchor he couldn’t pull up.

Y/N exhaled slowly. “I’m not promising anything.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“But you’re not letting go, are you?”

He shook his head once. “Can’t.”

“Figures.”

She started toward her car. Halfway there, she glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t follow me.”

“I won’t,” he said. And meant it.

But as she drove away, the bond thrummed through him again — quiet but unbreakable.

Embry jogged up beside him. “So… that went well?”

Jacob groaned. “Shut up.”

“Hey, she didn’t hit you. Progress.”

Paul smirked. “Give it time.”

Sam’s voice cut through their laughter. “Leave him alone.”

The others wandered off, still snickering. Sam lingered. “You handled that better than I expected.”

Jacob rubbed the back of his neck. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“She’ll come around. Or she won’t. Either way, you’ll learn to live with it.”

Jacob looked out at the waves, eyes fixed on the horizon where Y/N’s car had vanished.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “We’ll see.”

The wind carried the scent of rain and salt and something warmer — the lingering echo of her presence. It wrapped around him, both comfort and curse.

He stood there until the sky turned silver and the pack’s voices faded behind him.

And when the first drops of rain hit the sand, Jacob whispered what he hadn’t said to anyone:

“I didn’t want this.”

But even as he said it, he knew it didn’t matter.

The bond was already written in his bones.

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.

[forkshighschooler]

heyy💌

Can you do some headcanons for the wolfpack from twilight (all separately) about their sleeping habits and how their habits may have changed after they met their imprint (the reader)?

Best wishes and kisses

-your fav anon 💐

Wolfpack Headcanons

Author’s note: I hope this is what you meant! I’m not good at write head-canons!

Jacob Black

Before Imprinting:

• Jacob’s sleep is restless, especially after joining the pack. He often wakes in the middle of the night sweating or with his heart racing.

• His bed is messy—half the blankets on the floor, one sock off, phone still playing music.

• Sometimes he dreams about the life he wants but wakes up with the weight of everything he’s lost.

After Imprinting:

• For the first time in years, he sleeps peacefully. His imprint’s presence eases something tight in his chest.

• He sleeps close—always touching. Whether it’s a hand over their hip or his forehead against their back, he needs the contact.

• His favorite thing is waking up first and watching them breathe, warm and safe beside him.

⸻

Paul Lahote

Before Imprinting:

• Paul has trouble calming down. He can lie in bed for hours, running through memories or frustrations, fists clenched in the sheets.

• He sleeps in short, shallow bursts and often wakes with a pounding heart or clenched jaw.

• Most nights he ends up outside, pacing or sitting on the porch trying to breathe it out.

After Imprinting:

• Everything changes. His imprint is like a balm for his soul. With them beside him, his body finally relaxes.

• He falls asleep with one arm slung over them, face buried in their shoulder like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

• If they wake during the night, he mumbles, “You good?” without even opening his eyes—always attuned to their needs.

⸻

Embry Call

Before Imprinting:

• Embry sleeps with headphones in or TV on low—he hates silence. It reminds him of how alone he feels.

• He usually curls into himself, always on the edge of sleep but never quite at peace.

• Occasionally wakes up from dreams he can’t remember, just left with the ache of wanting someone he hasn’t met yet.

After Imprinting:

• It’s like breathing fresh air. He doesn’t even need sound anymore—just their heartbeat.

• He wraps his arm around them and fits his face in their hair, whispering things he was too shy to say in daylight.

• Sometimes he dreams about growing old with them—and wakes up smiling, holding them closer.

⸻

Quil Ateara

Before Imprinting:

• Quil’s always been a heavy sleeper, but a lonely one. He pretends to be fine, but his room’s a little too quiet.

• He sleeps curled in a nest of blankets, trying to mimic the comfort he’s missing.

• On bad nights, he lies awake thinking of Claire and how wrong it feels to be stuck in time.

After Imprinting:

• Quil turns into a human blanket. He holds his imprint like they’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him—because they are.

• Falls asleep talking to them, laughing softly, sharing little pieces of his soul he hides from others.

• Wakes up smiling, fingers tangled with theirs, as if to make sure they’re real.

⸻

Jared Cameron

Before Imprinting:

• Jared’s bed is made. His alarm’s set. He falls asleep at a decent time, but there’s no warmth to it—just routine.

• He sleeps on his side, facing the wall, arms tucked in like he’s bracing for something.

• Every once in a while, he dreams of someone he’s never met, and wakes up oddly heartbroken.

After Imprinting:

• He turns over in bed now—to face them. His walls come down slowly, quietly.

• He falls asleep later and later, not because he can’t sleep—but because he’s soaking in every second of them being there.

• He keeps one hand resting on their back or tucked under their pillow, as if memorizing their presence.

⸻

Sam Uley

Before Imprinting:

• Sam’s sleep is shallow, burdened by responsibility. He wakes often, heart tight, haunted by dreams of what he’s lost.

• Even in sleep, his body stays tense—muscles locked, jaw clenched.

• He sometimes stares at the ceiling for hours, wondering if he’ll ever feel peace.

After Imprinting:

• His imprint brings stillness. She touches his chest and he exhales like he hasn’t in years.

• They sleep close, always. Not out of need, but comfort. As if their souls are aligned even in dreams.

• If she stirs, he murmurs her name like a prayer and settles instantly when she answers.

⸻

Seth Clearwater

Before Imprinting:

• Seth is the only one who really wants to sleep. He’s a dreamer—curling into a ball, mumbling half-formed thoughts into his pillow.

• He sometimes sleeps with the lights on or a book open on his chest. He dreams in vivid color.

• Leah teases him for being a cuddler—even alone, he hugs a pillow to his chest.

After Imprinting:

• Seth lights up when they share a bed. He spoons, clings, tangles limbs—and smiles in his sleep.

• He’ll wake up just to press a sleepy kiss to their cheek and whisper “love you,” then drift off again.

• His imprint often wakes to find him already awake, just watching them with this soft, awe-filled gaze.

⸻

Leah Clearwater

Before Imprinting:

• Leah doesn’t sleep so much as collapse from exhaustion. Her nights are full of tossing and turning, angry tears, and cold sheets.

• She always wakes up alone, sore from clenching her jaw or curling too tightly into herself.

• Sleep is a battle—one she rarely wins.

After Imprinting:

• She’s hesitant at first—sharing space feels vulnerable. But over time, she starts to trust it. Trust them.

• She sleeps with her face in their neck, breathing slow and steady, one arm across their stomach.

• Her sleep becomes deeper, safer. For the first time in a long time, she stops waking up crying—and starts waking up at peace.

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.

[forkshighschooler]

Can you do one where the reader is a huge animal lover. She brings new animals to the pack house because the animal needs "savings" 😭. She comes home with a baby raccoon, the pack eyes widened in fear as Bella thinks the raccoon is adorable the pack look at them like they lost their mind. Paul tries to conceive the reader to release it back in the wild, but the raccoon doesn't want to leave the reader. 😭 and she names him rocket from Marvel.

Can this be Paul Lahote x reader?

Rocket in the Pack House

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Reader

Summary: Reader’s big heart for animals gets the best of them when they show up at the pack house with a baby raccoon that needs saving. The wolf pack panics, Bella thinks it’s adorable, and Paul tries to talk sense into you—except the little trash panda has already chosen you.

Warnings: Fluff, chaos, protective pack, mentions of wild animal behavior.

⸻

The pack house was never quiet. Someone was always laughing too loud, arguing over video games, or raiding the fridge. Tonight was no different—Embry and Quil were yelling at each other about Mario Kart, Seth was cheering them on, and Paul was leaning at the kitchen table with his arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched the chaos unfold.

Then the front door opened.

Everyone went silent, but not because you’d walked in. You came home all the time. This time, though, there was something bundled against your chest, wriggling inside the blanket you carried like a precious secret.

Paul straightened instantly, narrowing his eyes. “Babe… what the hell is that?”

Your face lit up, like you’d been waiting for this moment all evening. “It’s a baby raccoon! Isn’t he adorable?”

The pack collectively froze.

Jacob nearly fell off the couch. “Are you serious right now? You—you brought a raccoon into the house?”

“Correction,” you said proudly, lifting the blanket just enough for them to see two beady eyes and a tiny striped tail. “I rescued a baby raccoon. His mama was hit by a car. He was alone. What was I supposed to do—leave him there?”

The little creature squeaked, pawing weakly at your sleeve, and you immediately cooed, rocking him closer to your chest.

Bella, who’d been curled up with a book on the armchair, gasped softly. “Oh my gosh… he’s so cute!”

Every wolf turned toward her at the same time, eyes wide, like she had just declared she wanted to adopt a vampire bat.

“Cute?” Embry sputtered. “That thing’s a disease factory!”

Seth leaned closer, trying to peek over the blanket. “Are we sure it doesn’t have rabies?”

“It’s just a baby!” you shot back defensively, hugging him closer. “Look at him. He’s helpless.”

Sam groaned under his breath, rubbing at his temple. “Y/N…”

Paul was already pushing back his chair, stalking across the room toward you. His expression was a mix of disbelief and irritation—the exact look he gave you whenever you came home with another stray cat or injured bird.

He stopped in front of you, lowering his voice as though reasoning with you might somehow work this time. “Sweetheart. You can’t just walk into the pack house with a raccoon. That’s not a puppy. It’s a wild animal.”

You tilted your chin up stubbornly, tightening your hold on the little bundle. “So? He needs someone. And he picked me.”

Paul dragged a hand down his face. “Baby, listen to yourself. It’s not a toy—it belongs in the wild. If we let it stay, sooner or later it’s gonna—”

The raccoon squirmed, reached up with its tiny paws, and grabbed onto your finger with a squeaky chirp.

You gasped softly, your heart instantly melting. “See? He trusts me!”

Paul stared at you for a long moment, then down at the raccoon, then back at you. His jaw flexed. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“I’m naming him Rocket,” you announced proudly, smiling down at your new companion. “Like Rocket Raccoon, from Marvel.”

Embry nearly choked on his soda. “Oh my god, we’re doomed.”

Quil pointed an accusing finger at you. “This is how it starts. First a raccoon, next it’ll be a bear cub.”

“Don’t give her ideas,” Jacob muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

But you weren’t listening. You were busy kissing the top of Rocket’s fuzzy little head while he nuzzled into your shirt, clinging tighter like he’d decided you were his entire world now.

Paul crouched down in front of you, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Baby. You know I love you, right?”

You beamed down at him, rocking Rocket like a baby. “Mhm.”

“Then please,” he begged, voice low and gruff, “don’t make me live with a raccoon in the pack house.”

You gave him the most devastating pout you could manage. “But Paul… he doesn’t have anyone else.”

As if on cue, Rocket squeaked again, curling tighter into your chest.

Paul groaned, throwing his head back. “Unbelievable.”

Bella giggled from her chair. “Honestly, I think it’s sweet.”

Sam muttered something about “losing control of this household,” while Seth grinned, already trying to inch closer for a better look. “He’s kinda cute, though.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Jacob barked, glaring at both of them.

Paul finally sighed, defeated, and stood up. “Fine. But if that thing bites you even once, it’s gone.”

You smiled triumphantly, kissing his cheek before turning back to Rocket. “See? He’s part of the family now.”

Rocket squeaked, almost smug, and nestled in deeper.

The wolves groaned in unison, and Quil muttered under his breath, “Yep. We’re all gonna die.”

Paul wrapped an arm around your waist anyway, pulling you against his side, glaring at Rocket like the tiny furball had personally challenged him for your affection.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he grumbled.

You looked up at him, grinning. “Would you still love me if I brought home a moose?”

Paul closed his eyes, sighed through his nose, and kissed your forehead. “Don’t push your luck.”

Disclaimer:

I do now 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.

[forkshighschooler]

Jacob black x imprint reader where Jacob starts having a cute aggression towards her?

Too Cute to Handle

Pairing: Jacob Black x Imprint!Reader

Summary: Imprinting already makes Jacob protective, but sometimes his love for you overwhelms him in the weirdest way—he doesn’t know if he wants to kiss you, squeeze you, or just carry you around forever. Cute aggression hits the Alpha wolf hard, and the pack definitely notices.

Warnings: Pure fluff, Jacob being a lovesick fool, playful possessiveness, pack teasing, cuddly chaos.

⸻

The first time it happened, you thought Jacob was teasing.

You were curled up on the couch, one of his hoodies drowning you as you flipped through a book. Jacob had spread his tools across the floor to clean and sort through, but he hadn’t touched them in fifteen minutes. He was too busy watching you.

When you smiled at something on the page, tucking your knees to your chest, Jacob groaned out loud, flopping back dramatically.

Your eyes lifted. “Uh… are you okay?”

“No!” He sat up, running both hands over his face. “You’re too freaking cute, [Y/N]. It’s actually painful. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

You blinked. “…Painful?”

“Like, I swear I wanna—ugh, I wanna squish you or something. Or stick you in my pocket. Or—” His hands twitched helplessly. “I can’t explain it. You’re just too much.”

You burst out laughing. “Jacob Black, do you have cute aggression?”

“I don’t know what that is, but yeah, probably.” He crawled onto the couch, caging you in with his massive frame. “And you’re entirely to blame.”

Then his hands were on your cheeks, squishing them until your lips puckered. “See? I just wanna do this all the time.” He peppered your face with kisses until you squealed, smacking his chest. “It’s a problem, babe. A serious problem.”

⸻

It didn’t stop there.

The next day, you were making sandwiches in the kitchen when Jacob came up behind you. You were humming under your breath, bouncing slightly on your toes as you spread peanut butter, completely oblivious to how intently he was watching you.

Suddenly his arms wrapped tight around your waist, lifting you clean off the floor.

“Jacob!” you yelped, laughing as he spun you in a circle. “I’m gonna drop the bread—”

“You’re too cute, I can’t help it!” He nuzzled into your neck like a giant puppy, squeezing you so hard you squeaked. “You’re lucky I don’t actually crush you. Do you even know what you do to me?”

You giggled, breathless. “You’re insane.”

“Yeah,” he admitted easily, setting you down but not letting go. His forehead rested against yours, his eyes warm. “Crazy about you.”

⸻

It didn’t take long for the pack to notice.

At a bonfire, you had your sleeves pushed up, absently drawing little doodles on Jacob’s arm with a Sharpie. He was staring at you like you’d hung the moon, lips twitching every time you stuck your tongue out in concentration.

Then he groaned, dramatic as always, and dropped his head against your shoulder. “You’re killing me, sweetheart. Too cute. Too perfect. I can’t stand it.”

The pack erupted.

“God, not this again,” Paul groaned, tossing a stick into the fire. “She smiles and you act like you’ve been stabbed in the chest.”

“Pretty sure that’s love, man,” Quil teased, snickering.

Seth leaned forward eagerly. “It’s like when puppies get too excited and start biting their toys!”

Jacob shot him a glare. “I don’t bite her, Seth.”

“Not yet,” Embry muttered, earning a round of laughter.

You covered your face with your hands, trying to hide your grin. Jacob just growled, pulling you tighter into his lap. “Laugh all you want, idiots. None of you get it.” His voice softened, warm and sure. “She’s just… mine.”

The teasing faded, and for a moment, the pack exchanged glances. They did get it—even if they’d never admit it out loud.

⸻

Later that night, when the fire was dying down and the others had drifted away, Jacob tucked you under his arm, lips brushing your hair.

“Sorry if I embarrass you,” he murmured, sheepish. “I just… sometimes it feels like my chest is too full. Like I don’t know what to do with all of it. And it comes out stupid.”

You tilted your head, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “It’s not stupid. It’s cute.”

He groaned, squeezing you tighter. “Don’t say that word. You’re already too cute. If you keep saying it, I’m gonna explode.”

You laughed softly, curling against him. “Guess you’ll just have to survive.”

And as Jacob held you closer, chest rumbling with quiet laughter of his own, you knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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.

[forkshighschooler]

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: You’re 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 did—your hands tucked into the sleeves of your hoodie, shoulders hunched, trying to pretend you weren’t freezing.

Forks wasn’t even that cold today. Not really.

But your body didn’t 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 didn’t even get to speak before he was already sitting up.

“Stop,” he said.

You blinked. “Stop what?”

“Stop acting like you’re fine when you look like a sad little ice cube.”

“I do not—”

Embry held out his hand. “C’mere.”

You hesitated, pride fighting for its life.

Embry raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Don’t make me come get you.”

That did it. Because if he did come get you, he’d scoop you up like you weighed nothing and carry you around like a trophy.

So you shuffled over—slowly, like you weren’t already dying for warmth.

Embry grabbed your wrist gently, his palm hot against your skin, and you swear your whole body sighed.

“Okay,” you muttered. “Maybe I’m a little cold.”

“A little?” Embry’s eyes dropped to your hands, and his expression changed—less teasing, more soft.

He pulled you closer and pressed your fingers between both of his hands like he could physically transfer heat into you.

“You’re freezing,” he said, voice low.

“I’m not freezing,” you tried again, but it came out weak, because you were already leaning in.

Embry’s mouth twitched. “Babe… you’re like a fancy popsicle.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He tugged you right into his lap.

The heat hit you instantly—like 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 didn’t apply to him.

You melted into him without meaning to.

Embry wrapped both arms around you, locking you against his chest, like he’d been waiting all day for this exact moment.

“There,” he murmured, nuzzling your temple. “Problem solved.”

You tried to hold onto your attitude, you really did.

But Embry’s hands slid under your hoodie—warm palms against your sides—and you practically folded.

“You’re so dramatic,” you whispered, but your voice was already soft.

Embry chuckled. “You’re the dramatic one. I’m just being a good boyfriend.”

“A good boyfriend,” you echoed, skeptical.

Embry tilted his head, lips brushing your ear when he spoke. “A good boyfriend who refuses to let his girl turn into an icicle.”

Your face heated. “Embry.”

“What?” he said innocently, squeezing you tighter. “It’s true.”

You tried to shift, like maybe you could sit up and regain some dignity, but Embry’s arms tightened immediately—strong, secure, unmovable.

“Oh no,” he said. “Don’t even think about escaping.”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were.”

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.

Embry’s fingers traced lazy circles along your back.

“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “we should start rating how cold you are every day.”

You cracked one eye open. “Absolutely not.”

“Like a scale,” he continued, ignoring you completely. “One is ‘slightly chilly.’ Ten is ‘I need to wrap you in three blankets and legally declare you my responsibility.’”

“I’m not your responsibility.”

Embry hummed. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You glared up at him—except it wasn’t a real glare, because he was smiling like he’d already won.

“You’re enjoying this,” you accused.

Embry shrugged. “Maybe.”

Then he leaned down and kissed your forehead. Slow. Gentle. Like he wasn’t in a rush to be anywhere else.

“I like taking care of you,” he admitted quietly, like it was the simplest truth in the world.

Your chest squeezed.

You tried to respond, but Embry’s hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, thumb brushing the edge of your jaw, and he kissed your temple again—soft, lingering.

“You feel better?” he asked.

You didn’t want to be cheesy. You really didn’t.

But your body was warm now. Your fingers weren’t stiff. Your shoulders weren’t tense.

And Embry was holding you like you belonged there.

So you whispered, “Yeah.”

Embry smiled against your hair. “Good.”

You stayed like that for a minute—two—ten.

The room was quiet except for the rain tapping the windows, and Embry’s warmth pressed into you from every side.

Then Embry’s voice rumbled again, amused.

“You’re falling asleep.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m resting.”

Embry laughed softly, and his arms tightened in a slow squeeze, like a promise.

“Go ahead,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

Your eyes fluttered closed without permission.

You mumbled, half-asleep, “You’re too hot.”

Embry’s lips brushed your cheek.

“Yeah,” he whispered, smiling. “That’s kinda the point.”

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.

[forkshighschooler]

Can you do how the wolf pack reacts to the reader calling their full name trend.

Twilight Wolf Pack Reacts to You Using Their Full Name (TikTok Trend)

The setup: You pull out your phone, hit record, and casually call out their full names like you’re a disappointed teacher. Chaos (and a little panic) follows.

⸻

🐺 Sam Uley

You: “Samuel Uley, come here.”

Sam, mid-sentence, freezes like a statue. Slowly turns his head toward you with that alpha glare.

“Why does that sound like I’m about to get a verbal beatdown?”

You: “Just wanted to talk.”

Sam: “Yeah, okay. Next time lead with a soft ‘hey babe,’ not ‘Samuel Uley’ like you’re my lawyer reading me my charges.”

He seriously thinks he’s in trouble until you laugh.

Sam: “Unbelievable. I was two seconds away from writing you an apology I didn’t even understand.”

⸻

🐺 Paul Lahote

You: “Paul Lahote. Come here.”

Paul instantly whips around like a soldier reporting for duty.

“Why are you using my full name like I just crashed your car?”

You grin, holding back laughter. “I just wanted to show you this meme.”

Paul stares at you, then your phone, then you again. “I thought I cheated in a dream or something. You almost gave me an aneurysm.”

Mumbles under his breath: “Don’t full-name me unless you’re planning a funeral—mine.”

⸻

🐺 Jacob Black

You: “Jacob Black, get over here!”

Jake walks in chewing something, squints suspiciously. “Who died?”

You: “No one.”

Jake: “Oh, then why are you summoning me like I’m in trouble with the council?”

He snatches your phone and immediately sees the camera on.

“Oh, we’re doing trends now? Cool cool cool. Just say you’re trying to shave years off my life next time.”

Later? He calls you “F/N L/N” dramatically for days.

⸻

🐺 Embry Call

You: “Embry Call. Don’t even think about it.”

Embry immediately stops what he’s doing and looks around like, “What did I break?”

You: “I just said your name.”

Embry: “You said it like you caught me stealing your Netflix password. I got scared.”

When you tell him it’s for TikTok, he groans and throws himself on the couch.

“You almost made me confess to something I didn’t even do.”

⸻

🐺 Quil Ateara

You: “Quil Ateara, stop eating all the fries.”

Quil (mouth full): “You sound like my grandma. You tryna fight or something?”

You: “It’s just your name.”

Quil: “No one uses my full name unless I’m about to get hit with a chancla.”

Immediately plays it up and fake gasps, holding his chest. “Ow. My feelings. You wounded me with legal documentation.”

Starts calling you “Madam Y/N” for the rest of the day.

⸻

🐺 Jared Cameron

You: “Jared Cameron, seriously?”

Jared stops what he’s doing. “Wait. Why does it sound like I’m about to get dumped?”

You: “You’re not.”

Jared: “Oh thank god—because I was just mentally drafting a goodbye letter to the boys.”

You burst out laughing, and he realizes he’s been pranked.

He just smirks and says, “Alright. That’s cool. Just wait till I hit you with your full name in front of your mom.”

⸻

🐺 Leah Clearwater

You: “Leah Clearwater, pass me the remote.”

Leah doesn’t move. Just looks at you like you slapped her with a parking ticket.

“Absolutely not. Try that again—with respect.”

You: “It’s for TikTok—”

Leah: “Don’t care if it’s for a joke. That name combo has trauma in it.”

Still tosses you the remote but mutters, “You better not post that unless I look hot.”

⸻

🐺 Seth Clearwater

You: “Seth Clearwater, what did you do?”

Seth: freezes

“…I don’t know, but I’m so sorry. I’ll fix it! Just tell me what it is!”

You: “You didn’t do anything.”

Seth: “Then why’d you full-name me like I broke your heart?”

You: “It’s for a TikTok.”

Seth puts a hand on his chest. “Girl, I almost cried on camera.”

Then adds: “But I do kinda like the way it sounds when you say it.”

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.

[forkshighschooler]

hiiii! so i’ve read literally all of ur fics and ur writing is amazing!! i saw ur requests are open, hopefully ur able to get to mine 🤞🏽 i was wondering if you could write paul and reader are imprints and they get in heated debates over nothing and it happens multiple times that the pack has had enough and they force the two to work it out and then they start dating. maybe you can also include someone else starts arguing with reader and paul gets protective and like argues for her. fluff ending. thank you!!!

Smoke Signals

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Reader

Summary: You and Paul are imprints—and somehow that traslates into daily, ridiculous, heated debates. The pack finally snaps and stages an intervention that forces you two to actually talk. Feelings spill out, lines blur, and when someone else comes for you, Paul makes it very clear where he stands.

Warnings: mild language, arguments/raised voices, fluffy resolution, protective Paul, imprint intensity.

⸻

Paul Lahote was the human version of a match being struck.

Not always in a bad way. Sometimes it was warm—like a campfire crackling to life, bright and steady and somehow comforting even when it made no sense. Other times it was straight-up chaos, like a flare thrown into dry brush.

You loved him.

You also wanted to throw him into the Pacific on a semi-regular basis.

“Okay, no,” you said, holding the bag of groceries against your hip. “That is not how parallel parking works.”

Paul, leaning against your car like he was auditioning for “most smug man alive,” lifted a brow. “It’s exactly how it works. You swing wide, then cut in.”

“You swing wide and almost take out a mailbox,” you corrected. “Then you cut in and end up six inches from the curb. You don’t park. You dock.”

He stared at you for two full seconds before the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Oh my God,” he said slowly. “Did you just compare my parking to docking a boat?”

“Because that’s what it is.”

“Wild.” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe you were real. “I park fine.”

“You park like you have beef with asphalt.”

Paul opened his mouth, clearly ready to launch into some passionate defense of his driving method, when a car door slammed behind you.

“Yo,” Embry called, coming up the sidewalk with a bag of chips in his hand and an expression that screamed please don’t make me witness this. “Can we not do this in public?”

You and Paul turned to him at the exact same time.

“We are not doing anything,” you said.

Paul said, “She started it.”

“I said parallel parking—”

“And I said you don’t know what you’re talking about—”

Embry’s face went slack. “Okay. Great. Love that for me.” He walked past you toward the front door. “Sam said if you two start yelling again, he’s gonna make you both run patrol together. Like… a lot.”

You glared at Paul. “Tell him I don’t yell.”

Paul pointed at you. “You raised your voice right now.”

“This is not raised.”

“Your eyebrows are doing the yelling.”

“My eyebrows are expressive, Paul.”

“You’re expressive at me.”

You took a breath through your nose, trying to keep it cute and calm. That was your thing. Calm.

Paul’s thing was… not calm.

It was annoying, honestly, how fast he could get under your skin over absolutely nothing. Like you could be having a normal conversation about the weather and within thirty seconds you’d be in a full-blown debate about whether mist counted as rain.

(You were still right. Mist was not rain. Paul was just dramatic.)

You pushed past him and went inside, muttering, “Whatever.”

“Whatever?” he echoed, falling in step behind you. “That’s your whole argument?”

“Not arguing.”

“You’re literally arguing right now.”

“Paul, breathe.”

“I am breathing.”

“You’re huffing.”

“I’m not huffing.”

“You’re huffing with words.”

He actually stopped, stunned. “How do you do that? How do you say stuff that makes me mad and laugh at the same time?”

You turned, groceries on the counter, trying not to smile. “It’s a talent.”

He looked at you like—

Like that pull in his chest was a gravity and you were the only thing in the room. Like you were a bonfire he couldn’t stop orbiting. Like the imprint wasn’t a choice, it was a truth.

It should’ve been sweet.

It was sweet.

And somehow it came with bickering like a sport.

Paul stepped closer, gaze softening before his mouth ruined it.

“I still park fine.”

You gasped in disbelief. “That is not what we were talking about anymore.”

“We were always talking about it.”

“You are impossible.”

He grinned. “You love it.”

“Yeah? Maybe I don’t.”

His grin faltered—just a notch.

And there it was. That moment. The tiny crack in the armor. The thing you both pretended didn’t exist underneath all the dumb debates.

The imprint.

The feelings that were too big, too sharp, too terrifying to say out loud.

You didn’t mean to go quiet. You just… did.

Paul did too.

For half a heartbeat, the kitchen was just the hum of the fridge and the ocean in the distance and two people who didn’t know what to do with how much they meant to each other.

Embry reappeared at the doorway.

Blinked.

Then groaned like he was forty years old. “Nope. I’m done. I’m calling the others.”

“What—Embry, no,” you said, but he was already walking away, phone to his ear.

Paul’s eyes widened. “Oh hell.”

You frowned. “What is happening?”

“Nothing,” he said too fast. Then: “Something.”

Your stomach dropped. “Paul…”

“We’re in trouble,” he admitted.

“For what?”

“For… the arguing. I guess.” He scoffed, like that was ridiculous. “They’re being dramatic.”

“You mean you’re being dramatic.”

He opened his mouth to snap back—

—and right on cue, Quil and Jared strode in like they owned the place.

“Intervention time,” Quil announced brightly.

You stared. “Excuse me?”

Jared nodded toward the living room. “C’mon. Both of you. Now.”

Paul’s jaw tightened. “Seriously? You’re doing this?”

“Yep.” Quil popped a chip into his mouth. “Because if I have to hear you two argue about whether pineapple belongs on pizza one more time, I’m gonna phase in the middle of my mom’s house.”

You threw your hands up. “Paul started that!”

Paul pointed at you. “She said pineapple was ‘an insult to Italy’!”

“It is!”

Jared made a slicing motion with his hand. “See? Exactly. That. Right there. Living room. Go.”

You and Paul both tried to protest at once.

It was useless.

Five minutes later, you were sitting on opposite ends of Sam’s couch like a pair of kids in detention. Sam stood in front of you with that calm, leader vibe that made you feel guilty before you knew why.

Leah was leaning against the wall with arms crossed, looking like she’d brought popcorn if she thought Sam would allow it. Seth sat on the floor, wide-eyed and invested. Embry and Quil and Jared filled the rest of the room, all of them wearing variations of I love you both but I’m tired.

Sam spoke gently. “We’re not saying you can’t disagree. But this…” he gestured between you. “It’s constant. And it’s not healthy.”

You let out a breath. “We’re fine.”

Paul muttered, “It’s not like we hate each other.”

Leah snorted. “Honestly, could’ve fooled me.”

“Leah,” Sam warned mildly.

She held up her hands. “What? I’m just saying, it’s giving ‘divorced couple arguing over the dog’ and I hate it.”

“That’s not—” you started.

“Okay,” Embry cut in. “We’re gonna try something new today. You’re both gonna say what you’re actually mad about.”

Paul blinked. “I’m mad she said I can’t park.”

You made a noise of protest.

“Not that.” Jared rolled his eyes. “Deep stuff.”

Paul looked at you. You looked at the ceiling.

Silence grew.

Seth nodded like he was in a therapy TikTok. “You can do it. Use ‘I feel’ statements.”

Paul’s mouth twitched. “I feel… attacked.”

“Paul,” Sam said, deadpan.

You couldn’t help it. You laughed once—short and surprised.

Paul’s head snapped to you, and his expression softened.

“See?” Embry sighed. “That right there. You two are good when you stop fighting.”

Paul looked down at his hands. When he spoke, his voice was lower than usual. “I don’t know how to do this.”

You turned your head. “Do what?”

He swallowed like the words were too big to fit in his mouth. “This. The imprint stuff.”

The room went quieter.

Paul’s eyes lifted to yours, nervous in a way you almost never saw. “Because when I feel something, it’s like… a wildfire. But I don’t want to scare you. So I make it a joke. Or a fight. Because if I’m mad about toppings or parking or whatever, I don’t have to talk about the real thing.”

Your throat tightened.

Paul’s laugh was breathless. “And you’re so smart, and you say things that make my brain short-circuit, and I don’t want to be… too much. So I push. And then you push back. And it’s stupid.”

You stared at him, heart doing that painful, soft thing it always did around him.

You didn’t realize you were crying until your cheek went wet.

“Paul…” you whispered.

He sat forward a little, like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure he was allowed. “I’m not trying to make your life hard.”

“I know.”

“I just…” He exhaled. “I want to be close to you. And I don’t know how, so I keep poking the bear.”

Your laugh cracked. “I’m not a bear.”

He smiled, relieved for a second. “You’re kind of a bear.”

“You’re a menace.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “But I’m your menace.”

The imprint in your chest pulled, warm and heavy.

You wiped your face. “I don’t hate you. I just—when we argue, it’s because I’m scared too.”

Paul went still.

You took a breath. “Scared that if I let this be real, I’ll lose myself in it. I’ve never had someone who… feels this certain. And your certainty makes me feel like I have to match it, or I’ll disappoint you.”

Paul’s eyes widened in horror. “Disappoint me? You— you could never.”

“I know that logically.” You shrugged helplessly. “But feelings aren’t logical. So I fight you over dumb stuff instead of admitting I’m scared of how much I want you.”

The room was silent silent now.

Even Leah looked like she’d been hit with a truth beam.

Paul stood so fast the coffee table rattled.

He was in front of you in two strides, crouched like he couldn’t help himself. “Hey,” he said, voice shaking a little. “Look at me.”

You did.

His hands hovered inches from your knees, waiting for permission.

You covered his hands with yours.

A sound left him—half laugh, half exhale, like he’d been holding his breath his whole life.

“I’m not asking you to match me,” he said. “I’m asking you to stay. That’s it. You and me. We’ll be messy. We’ll be slow if you want. But we won’t do the pushing-away thing anymore.”

You nodded, tears threatening again. “Okay.”

He grinned crookedly. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes, Paul.”

He was beaming now, and it made your chest feel like sunlight.

Behind you, Quil whispered loudly to Embry, “We did it.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Good. So… are we all clear on the ‘less yelling’ rule?”

Paul and you spoke at the same time—

“Sure.”

“Maybe.”

Everyone groaned.

Paul laughed, full and boyish, then leaned in close to you like he couldn’t help it. His forehead pressed to yours. “Hi.”

Your lips lifted. “Hi.”

“Can I—” He hesitated. “Can I kiss you?”

You smiled softly. “You’re asking now?”

“Trying something new.”

You tugged him in by the collar. “Yes.”

His kiss was warm and careful at first, like he was proving he could be gentle. Then it turned sure, deeper, like the imprint had finally found an open road instead of a wall.

The pack erupted into whoops and dramatic gagging noises, and you broke apart laughing.

Paul rested his forehead against yours again. “I’m gonna kill them later.”

“Don’t,” you said. “They’re annoying, but… they were right.”

Paul sighed, mock-suffering. “I hate when they’re right.”

“I know.”

He kissed your cheek. “So, uh. Are we dating now?”

You pretended to think. “Hmm. I don’t know. You still can’t park.”

He jerked back, scandalized. “We just had a breakthrough!”

You laughed. “Yes, Paul. We’re dating.”

His whole face lit up in a way that made your stomach flip.

“Cool,” he said, trying to play it off and failing. “Cool cool cool. Great. Awesome. Love that.”

“Paul.”

“Yeah?”

“Come here.”

He did immediately, like you were gravity.

⸻

The next day, you were walking back from the rez store with a soda in your hand, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. Like someone had finally unsnarled a knot inside you.

You rounded the corner near the community center—and froze.

Rachel Black stood with her arms folded, facing you. Beside her, a guy you barely knew from town—tall, red jacket, too close.

You’d seen him before. Kyle. He had the vibe of someone who’d never been told “no.”

“Hey,” Kyle said, smiling like he was doing you a favor. “You didn’t text me back.”

You blinked. “Because I never gave you my number.”

He laughed like that was cute. “I got it from someone.”

“That’s not okay.”

Rachel’s brows went up. “Kyle, leave her alone.”

He turned on her. “I’m just talking.”

“You’re not listening.” You kept your voice calm. “I’m not interested.”

Kyle’s smile slipped. “You’re really gonna act like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re too good for me.”

Your patience tightened. “That’s not what I said.”

He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever. I just thought you were different.”

Rachel stepped forward. “Okay, that’s enough—”

“Don’t worry.” Kyle leaned closer to you. “I’m not mad. I just don’t get why girls like you always act stuck-up like you’re not from some backwater place too.”

Your spine went cold.

Before you could open your mouth, a voice behind you said, low and lethal:

“Back up.”

Paul.

He was halfway across the walkway already, jaw set, shoulders tense. He wasn’t phased—thank God—but you could feel the wolf under his skin, the protective fury buzzing right under the surface.

Kyle scoffed. “Who’s this?”

Paul didn’t even look at him at first. His eyes went straight to you. “You okay?”

Your throat eased. “Yeah.”

Then Paul turned to Kyle like a storm rolling in.

“You don’t talk to her like that,” he said, voice deceptively calm. “You don’t get to make her uncomfortable and then blame her for it.”

Kyle puffed up. “I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, you were.” Paul stepped closer. Not threatening, exactly, but… grounded. Like the earth had shifted to stand between you and anything that wanted to hurt you.

Kyle glanced at Rachel, then back at you, annoyed. “Whatever. Clearly you’ve got a boyfriend who thinks he’s a hero.”

Paul smiled without humor. “Not a hero. Just somebody who knows ‘no’ means ‘no.’ Try it.”

Kyle’s face flushed. He opened his mouth, then thought better of it. He backed away with a muttered, “This place is crazy.”

When he was out of earshot, Rachel let out a breath. “Geez.”

Paul didn’t relax until you put a hand on his arm.

He turned to you fast. “You sure you’re okay? He didn’t touch you?”

“No.” You searched his face. “But… thank you.”

His anger drained like water, leaving something softer behind. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m not… I’m not gonna let anybody talk to you like that.”

You smiled a little. “Protective boyfriend era?”

He rubbed the back of his neck like he was embarrassed by how true that felt. “Yeah. If that’s okay.”

You stepped closer, tilting your head. “It’s more than okay.”

His gaze flicked to your mouth. “I want to be good at this.”

“At what?”

“Us.” He swallowed. “Not the fighting part. The staying part.”

You reached up and cupped his cheek. “We’ll learn.”

His eyes closed for a second at your touch, like your hands were a prayer he’d been waiting to hear.

Then he opened them again, smiling small. “Still think I can’t park?”

You laughed. “Paul.”

“I’m kidding.” He grinned. “Mostly.”

You shook your head, leaning in to kiss him.

And this time, there was no arguing in it.

Just the steady crackle of something real catching fire the right way. The kind that warms, not burns.

Behind you, Rachel made a gagging sound.

Paul broke the kiss and glared over your shoulder. “Rachel, I swear to God—”

You laughed into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Like it was always meant to be.

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.