summary: intense jealousy pushes paul’s fierce imprint instincts to the breaking point, driving him to lock the bedroom door and claim what is entirely his.
𝒯he absolute gravity of the imprint doesn’t just make paul a dedicated partner; it turns him into a man permanently operating on a razor’s edge. from the moment his eyes locked onto yours, his entire universe violently re-centered, and with that came a terrifying, intoxicating level of obsession. he doesn’t just love you; he yearns for you with a visceral, physical ache that never truly fades, even when you’re sitting right next to him. every breath he takes is filtered through the constant need to ensure your safety, your comfort, and above all, your absolute belonging to him.
his possessiveness is loud, heavy, and impossible to ignore. when you walk into a room together, his arm isn't just draped casually over your shoulders, his large hand is securely anchored to the nape of your neck or firmly gripping your waist, physically pulling your frame against his side. he marks his territory without saying a word, casting dark, warning glares at anyone who dares to look at you for a second too long. his inner wolf is constantly pacing the perimeter of your space, viewing the rest of the world as a collective threat trying to steal glimpses of what is entirely his.
the trigger for his snap builds up over a suffocatingly tense afternoon. maybe it’s a casual interaction, a male coworker lingering a bit too long at your desk, a guy at a coffee shop offering a polite but warm smile, or a male friend laughing just a little too easily at a joke you made. to anyone else, it’s completely harmless, but to paul, whose instincts amplify every micro-expression, it’s an unbearable provocation.
watching another man look at you makes his blood literally boil under his skin. you can feel the intense, vibrating heat radiating off him as his jaw tightens so hard the muscles twitch. he stands completely rigid, his dark eyes locked onto the offender, blackening with a mix of pure feral jealousy and an agonizing, possessive hunger. he doesn't cause a scene in public, only because he refuses to distress you, but the moment he gets you away from the crowd, his restraint completely shatters.
the shift the moment you’re behind closed doors is instantaneous and breathless. the door barely clicks shut before paul pins you against it, the sheer mass of his body crowding you into the wood, completely cutting off the rest of the world. he doesn’t speak at first; his breathing is heavy, ragged, and hot against your skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent like a dying man finally reaching oxygen. his hands are frantic but unyielding, framing your face, mapping the curves of your hips, needing to physically reconfirm that you are here, you are safe, and you are his.
the words are thick with raw, desperate vulnerability masked by his usual rough demeanor. his voice drops into a gravelly, low growl that vibrates against your collarbone as he confesses just how much it tortures him to see anyone else even breathe your air. "you have no idea what it does to me," he’ll mutter, his lips brushing harshly against your skin as he kisses his way up to your jaw. "watching them look at you like they have a right to. like you could ever belong to anyone but me. you’re mine. tell me you’re mine. c’mon." he needs to hear the verbal submission, needs your reassurance to quiet the roaring wolf inside his chest.
the sex is a masterclass in desperate, consuming passion. paul is usually careful with his supernatural strength, but when his instincts take over like this, he handles you with a firm, unyielding grip that leaves no room for doubt about who commands your body. every touch is heavy and deliberate; he holds your wrists pinned above your head or locks his fingers tightly with yours, pressing your palms flat against the mattress so he can look down into your eyes, ensuring you are completely focused on him and only him.
he claims every inch of your skin with a feverish intensity, leaving a trail of dark, burning bruises and love bites along your collarbone, the curve of your shoulder, and the inner warmth of your thighs. it’s an act of pure, instinctual marking. he wants you to wear the physical proof of his possession long after the night ends. when he finally sinks into you, it’s deep, slow, and overwhelming. a rhythmic, bruising pressure that drives away any lingering trace of the outside world until your thoughts, your gasps, and your entire existence are completely consumed by his heat.
the aftermath is deeply protective and tenderly suffocating. once the fever breaks and his instincts are finally quieted, he doesn't let you move an inch away from him. paul wraps his massive, heavy limbs around you, pulling your back flush against his chest in a tight, inescapable hold. he buries his face back into your hair, his heartbeat still thumping like a war drum against your shoulder blades, slowly lulling you both to sleep while his arms remain locked around you like a human fortress.
writer’s note : okay soooo . . i don’t even know what came over me but i wanted to try and write something more mature. as terrified as i was, i believe it turned out pretty decent. i’m even thinking of writing a longer, more detailed version of the bedroom scene but for now this is my first +18 writing. yayyyyy ゛⸝⸝ ⋆
twilight request: paul and human reader know each other since childhood and he imprinted on her at this time so its been known that they're "together" but he never officially asked her to be his girlfriend or anything and reader gets really frustrated with that bc she feels like paul and the whole imprinting thing are trapping her and she feels suffocate by him sometimes so tension !!!
distance makes the heart grow fonder
pairing; paul lahote x fem!reader
word count; 1.4k
warnings; hurt/comfort, angst, fluffy ending, paul is a dumb boy but he makes up for it ig
a/n; ahhh i missed writing for twilight! luv my boy paul<333
You're pouting, pressed into the well worn divot in the seat of Emily's couch as you glower at Paul from across the room; the leather almost swallows you whole, suctioning against your bare legs when you shuffle to face him. He huffs when you sigh, corded biceps crossing over his chest.
"What?" He feigns innocence as though you weren't witness to him flirting his way through the party at La Push last night. Something red hot and angry twists at your insides as you recall the memories.
"I'm not your girlfriend."
He breathes a sharp exhale, a brow raising in question.
"No, you're not."
You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his dismissal, pushing back the sharp sting at the edges of your vision and instead sinking further into the old leather and picking at a loose thread in your sweater. You can feel his eyes on you when you angle your body away from his, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as it warbles.
"So how come you think you have this stupid claim on me, then? A guy likes me and you threaten to rip his throat out, but you're allowed to flirt with any girl with a pulse?"
A low warning rumble pushes through Paul's chest, a signal that you dutifully ignore. He takes a step towards you, then two and three, until he's looming over your figure.
"Because you are mine," he says, brow pulling tight.
"So I'm yours but you're not mine?" you persist. "I don't think that's fair." Your blood roars in your ears; everything feels too hot, jealousy pouring into your veins like molten lava, thrumming and rushing against your frantic pulse. "I'm done, Paul."
He blinks. Takes another step towards you before you're holding your hand out, pressing the tips of your manicured nails into the dip of his stomach to halt his approach.
"What?" His mouth feels dry, struggling to form words as he stares– just stares, brow pinched, nostrils flaring.
"I- I can't do this. I can't spend my life waiting around for you when you don't care about me."
He crouches, sliding those warm palms up and around your calves, cupping the backs of your knees.
"You think I don't care about you?"
You sniffle, folding your knees up to your chest; Paul moves fluidly with you, thick fingers curled round your limbs as though he's an extension of your own body.
"Not the way I care about you."
Your body betrays you, flushing white-hot as he knuckles at your jaw, the pad of his thumb - calloused from years of fighting and rough play - pushing its way into the soft flesh of your cheek.
A tear slips from your welling waterline and gathers in the crook of his knuckle.
"Baby-"
You bristle, shrugging away his touch as if it will somehow lessen the ache in your chest, the hollow feeling you can't seem to shake. He crawls upward, onto the couch next to you, his spine bowing until he's curled over your shuddering form.
"Don't call me that. You don't mean it."
"Bab-"
"Stop."
He straightens, taut as a bowstring, watching as your back curves and you rake your flushed face against the rough denim of your jeans. You feel his attitude change, soft pity melting to anger, spine stiffening, lips pushing into a hard line that morphs his expression into something you hate.
Because he never directs his anger at you.
Shame - ugly and cruel - licks at your veins, heats your blood almost hot enough to curdle. It scalds your every vein and sours you from the inside out.
You swipe at your swollen eyes with the backs of your fingers, unfolding your limbs until you're standing. Your voice wavers as you speak.
"I'm going home," you croak.
"You can't just leave!" He throws his hands up, standing until you're chest to chest, nose to nose. "We need to talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about. You didn't ask to be shackled to me."
"You think that's what you are to me?" he asks, and the cruel bite to his tone is enough to make you cry all over again.
"What am I, then?"
A beat passes. Two. Three. Paul's fingers curl into tight fists at his sides; your eyes sting when you push back the telltale itch at your waterline, and you sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that he means more to you than you do to him.
"I'm going home," you say again, firmer. "It's better this way, Paul. Trust me."
It's always what you've been best at, anyway. Running.
Paul's torn between following you and sinking further into the couch; he opts for the latter, teeth bared in a groan as he curls a fist around a stray cushion, nails almost piercing and tearing the soft fabric.
The engine of your truck sounds far away in his ears as you pull out of the driveway, his chest hollow, the ache growing as you cover more distance.
Away from him.
When you walk through the door, the silence of your apartment is like a strike to the head; the soft whooshing of the washing machine does little to soothe the throbbing in your chest at your imprinters absence.
Not that you're sure he really is yours.
You're quick to strip of the tee and jeans you're sporting, eager to rid yourself of Paul's scent – once a comfort, now it only serves to deepen the aching tremors that wrack your body with white-hot agony.
The quiet lasts two days. Two days of no text messages, no phone calls, not a whisper of his name among the wind. Complete radio silence.
Two days until Paul Lahote is beating down your door with a ferocity that should terrify you.
It only serves to kick up your flaring anger as you wrench the door open, the hinges rattling.
He doesn't give you a second to breathe, surging forward to lock his arms around you like a vice, shoulders shuddering with every laboured breath.
"Paul," you scold, squirming in his grip when he tightens his hold on you, nuzzling his nose against your pulse point. The frantic way in which he clings to you, palms kneading the flesh beneath your t-shirt, is almost primal – as though he's scenting, marking you.
"You know how much it fucking hurts to be away from you?" he grunts, backing you into the wall. You gasp, instinctually threading your fingers through the hairs at his nape as he hungrily grabs at every inch of your skin he can reach. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, scoffing at his words.
As if he has any right to feel this way. As if this isn't his fault.
"You know how much you hurt me..." You take a breath, voice warbling as tears gather at your lash line. "...all the time? You know how much you torture me?"
Paul coos, smoothing a hand over your head. "I know, baby. I know."
You sniffle, and your throat tightens, a silent sob pushing its way from your clenched teeth.
"Hate you," you whimper. "Hate you so much."
Paul groans, pressing his chest to yours. His rumbling cadence seeps right down to your bones.
"I'll swear off it all, princess. No more girls, no more flirting. No more parties. Just me 'nd you, how 'bout that?"
You sigh, eyes wide as you peer curiously up at him. "You don't mean that."
Desperation coats his every word. "Mean every word of it, I promise. Please, these last two days have been hell without you, princess. I don't want to be away from you."
"You're just saying that," you purl. "You'd be unhappy."
Paul's head dips until his lips are ghosting across your cheek, his voice rasping. He kneads circles into the fat of your hip, nudging you closer into his space with every reverent touch.
"I can't breathe without you," he says, voice thick with tears. "I'm miserable. I'll do anything, please."
You sniffle, preening at his touch like a needy kitten. "You wanna be with me? Or you're just sayin' that 'cause I made a fuss about it?"
"Wanna be with you always, baby. I'm yours."
You sob, curling your fingers around the nape of his neck to press wet, smacking kisses to his cheeks. Tears coat your lips as you mouth at him, thumbs rubbing circles over his jaw.
Paul's chest shudders around an exhale.
"I love you."
You laugh wetly; he lifts you up until your legs twine around his waist.
"How about you show me how much you love me, Lahote."
jacob black. jacob fucking black. that mutt had his paws all over you, and you weren’t even batting an eye. granted, paul did leave you to your own devices in favor of grabbing you another beer from the cooler sam brought. still, paul could feel the familiar ache of anger simmering under his skin.
the sound of rushing waves, the feel of sand beneath his feet, and the smell of saltwater brings him back to his senses. sam would have his ass if paul were to start a fight while everyone is having fun at la push. paul can’t find it in himself to care enough though, and he’s stomping over to you before jacob’s hand can trail any lower down your back.
the younger boys of the pack liked to throw a flirting comment or tease your way as a joke to rile paul up, but jacob was the worst about it. paul knows jake is serious. jacob likes you. that fact gets under paul’s skin more than any jokingly, flirtatious remark from the younger wolves in the uley pack can match.
your mate’s eyes lock onto jacob and the way his lips curve up in a smug smirk when he realizes paul is approaching. as if to add more heat to the already flaming fire, jake’s hand slides down to your hip. his pinkie finger just barely rests on the curve of your ass, and paul bristles at the movement. he rips jacob’s hand off of you by his forearm, and his own beefy arm wraps securely around your waist.
steam is practically coming out of paul’s ears, as he tugs you roughly against his chest. his grip is tight. too tight. but, paul’s too deep in his anger to realize. all that’s going through his head right now is to keep jacob as far away from you as possible.
“watch your fucking hands, jake,” paul snarls out. his instincts are going haywire. his mind is filled with possessive thoughts and urges, and everything in his body is telling him: protect, keep, claim.
jacob takes a casual step back. instead of leaning down slightly like he was before to talk to you, jake stands at his full height so he’s eye level with paul. he gives the angry wolf an amused once over, before the shit-eating curve of his lips slowly disappears from his face. jake’s brows furrow in mock confusion, while he plays innocent.
“we’re just talking.. what, she can’t talk to other pack members now? afraid someone’s gonna take her from you?” ohh.. now that strikes a nerve. the rational part of paul’s brain knows that you would never run off with someone else, let alone another wolf from the uley pack. but, just the thought of someone other than paul having you makes his urge to shift 10x stronger.
when paul takes a step towards jacob and tries to move you behind him, you grip onto his bicep in an attempt to grab his attention. after being with paul for a while, it’s easy to recognize when he’s about to start a fight.
“paul- hey, come on-“ your voice doesn’t even register in paul’s head. his eyes are locked onto jacob, ready to pummel him into the sand and let the ocean wash him away. that familiar flare of anger is bubbling in his chest and threatening to boil over. he’s losing control.
“lahote.” a harsh grip on the shoulder from sam cuts through the red haze he’s lost in. the silent command makes him hesitate. paul can’t deny the alpha, even when he’s in the throes of possessive anger. sam steps in front of paul without care, and the sudden closeness makes you take a step back.
“you’re really gonna do this? here? right now, with her watching?” sam gestures to you, as he still stands protectively between you and paul. it’s easy to lose control, too easy. too easy to hurt a mate, something sam knows better than anyone. paul’s eyes flick to you, his imprint, his *bonded,* and the wolf in him whines with displeasure.
there’s not fear in your eyes, not exactly.. more like anxiety. like you know what’s coming and you know paul can’t control it. paul doesn’t want to prove you right. he wants to be more than a slave to his own anger.
so, he softens. his shoulders slump a little, and the snarl on his face morphs into a frown. he can’t look at you long after that, the guilt hits him like a trainwreck after losing control like that. paul steps towards you with his eyes downcast, his hand slipping into yours to lead you back to his truck.
“paul’s bailing?” embry asks, breathing heavy as he comes running over with the soccer ball tucked under his arm. jared follows close behind, both their eyes on paul pulling his truck out of the la push parking lot.
“surprise, surprise. jake made him moody,” jared scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. the wind whips a little harder now, the clouds overhead threatening a downpour.
“let him go. he needs this,” sam’s booming voice is like the thunder in the sky; deep and commanding you listen. the pack doesn’t hesitate. everyone gets back to what they were doing before, the lingering tension dissipating with every mile paul puts between him and the beach.
the drive back to your house was silent, painfully so. paul must’ve took all the tension from the beach and shoved it in his truck along with you, cause the air in there was thick with it. every time you tried to find the words to soothe paul, your throat closed up.
inside your house is no better. paul follows you all the way in, locking the front door behind him instinctively. he trails after you all the way up the stairs, his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs. he can feel in his chest that you’re not angry with him, though he still feels like a kicked dog.
“baby,” paul rasps when you reach your bedroom. his hand interlocks with yours, *needing* your touch, needing the silent affirmations that come with it. his brown eyes are so devoted, but oh so guilty. after the scene he caused today, it’s a miracle he didn’t stomp off into the woods to brood for hours.
“‘m sorry,” he mumbles, reaching for you with his other hand. he wraps his arm around your waist immediately when you give him a chance and take a step forward. paul tugs you into his chest like he did at la push, although he’s gentler now that it’s just the two of you.
“i’m so sorry, he just had his hands on you and i-” he cuts off his own rambling, suddenly aware that it sounds like he’s making excuses, “i lost it, i’m sorry, baby.”
“you’re so guilty,” you mumble, placing a hand on his chest right over his racing heart. even after being out in the frigid air near the ocean, paul’s still warm like a furnace, “for what? you didn’t hurt me.”
“could’ve though,” paul frowns, the thought making a pit form in his stomach and anxiety ball in his chest. his arm around your waist tightens like he can squeeze the bad thoughts out of the both of you, “coulda lost it for real this time. coulda hurt you bad, like sam hurt emily.”
“but you didn’t,” you breathe out, cupping his cheek with your free hand. a shaky breath leaves his lips, your touch both a soothing balm and an addicting drug paul can’t seem to ever get enough of, “i’m fine. i’m still here. *we’re* still here.”
paul nods his head at your words, leaning in to press his nose to your hair. he inhales deeply, presses a firm kiss to your temple, then tilts his head to capture your lips with his. the kiss is so soft, like his love for you has taken form in this one act of affection. his tongue slips into your mouth to caress yours, and he swallows your soft sounds like he can’t get enough. this isn’t dominating, this is *apologizing.*
paul’s hand slips from yours and comes up to cup the back of your head. the arm around your waist moves so his other hand is pressed flat to the small of your back. he slides his hand right over the spot jacob’s was, but his hand slides down lower. down, down, until he’s got a handful of your ass. paul’s large hand gives it a gentle squeeze, appreciating the soft curves only he gets to touch.
“just because i’m mortal doesn’t mean you need to treat me like glass,” you tease him, your voice barely a murmur against his lips. it’s loud enough for paul to hear though, as he perks up at the teasing like it’s an invitation.
“i’m mortal too,” he defends, giving your ass a light swat. his eyes look brighter now, still guilty, but there’s more of that familiar cocky paul in there now.
“not really. you shapeshift, it’s not the same,” you argue.
“well, i’m not immortal,” he retorts, knowing you can’t argue with that.
“*well,* i think you still need to apologize. *properly,*” you announce, slipping from his arms to walk backwards towards the bed. there’s a knowing smirk on your face as the back of your needs bump against the mattress. paul’s eyes follow your hands as they reach for the hem of your shirt, his mood rapidly increasing just from watching you.
“gladly,” he growls, already right behind you to scoop you up. he plops you down onto the bed, and quickly crawls over your pliant body. paul’s lips find yours again, this time with more fervor, as he’s ready to worship and lather you with affection *all night long.*
↳ this is kinda ooc for jacob, but he was all over bella when she was in a relationship w edward so.. also so sorry this took so long @straows 😭😭 i hope u enjoy! <3
Summary: Request - Hi I love your Paul lahote stories!! I was wondering if you could do one super fluffy where the reader finds out she’s pregnant but is worried how Paul will feel because they’re still young and all the werewolf and vampire stuff is going on at the time!!🩵
A/N: I just love Paul. Thank you for the requests as always! @lunajay33
Pairing: Paul Lahote x Reader
Word Count: 5.4k +
TW: Pregnancy
The warm scent of blueberry muffins filled Emily’s kitchen mingling with the faint tang of sea air drifting in through the open window. You were slouched in one of the chairs at her table with your cheek resting in your palm as you watched her move about the kitchen. The quiet hum of her voice as she talked about Sam and the pack was comforting, but it was hard to focus. Your stomach rolled again. That new unease building in the back of your mind.
“You’re quieter than usual,” Emily commented. Her voice cutting through the fog of your thoughts. She glanced at you over her shoulder, her sharp eyes softening when they landed on your face. “Are you feeling okay?”
You forced a smile, shrugging like it was nothing. “Just tired, I guess. It’s been a stressful few weeks, you know? All the patrols, Jacob imprinting on… that situation. It’s a lot.” You tried brushing her off.
Emily turned back to her muffins, humming as she pulled them from the oven and set them on the counter. “That’s true. It’s been hard on everyone.” She didn’t say anything else for a moment, but you could feel her watching you out of the corner of her eye. “Are you sure that’s all it is?” she asked gently not wanting to push too hard.
Your smile faltered. “Of course. What else would it be?”
Emily walked over and sat across from you. Her expression calm but concerned. “Well, you’ve been tired a lot lately. And you’ve barely eaten today. You won’t even touch my muffins like you always do. I also saw you push your plate away last week at dinner too.” She tilted her head, her tone as light as she could make it. “And I saw you make a face when I started the coffee earlier. You used to love coffee… I haven’t seen you drink a cup in weeks now.”
You stiffened slightly, trying to brush her off with a laugh. “I’m just… off, that’s all. It’s probably just stress or maybe a stomach bug. Nothing to worry about.” That unease grew in the pit of your stomach though.
She didn’t drop it. “Maybe,” she said slowly. Her dark eyes studying you. “But… have you thought it might be something else?”
You blinked at her, frowning. “Something else? Like what?”
She hesitated before she reached across the table to rest her hand on yours. “I don’t want to assume anything, but… you and Paul are together all the time. Could there be… another reason why you’re feeling this way?”
Her words hit you like a freight train and you immediately shook your head. Your voice pitching higher than you intended. “No. Absolutely not. There’s no way, Emily. We’re careful! I mean, mostly. But… no. That’s impossible.”
Emily gave you a patient look but didn’t pull her hand away. “I know you’re careful,” she said gently. “But accidents happen. When was the last time you had your period?” She asked the dreaded question… when was it?
The question made your heart lurch, and you froze. “I…” shit, you didn’t know, “I don’t know,” you stammered. “It’s been… I mean, I’m not great at keeping track, but…” Your voice trailed off as your mind began counting backward. The realization hitting you like a bucket of ice water on a freezing winter day. Your chest tightened. Your mouth suddenly ran dry.
Emily leaned forward slightly. Her voice soft but steady. “How long has it been?”
You swallowed hard while staring at her as the truth sank in. “I.... A month? Maybe more?” You guessed as you kept counting further back. No, it was more than a month now. It’d been nearly six weeks.
Emily’s expression didn’t change though there was a hint of sympathy in her eyes. “It might not be what you think,” she said carefully. “But maybe… maybe you should take a test. Just to be sure.”
Your stomach flipped at the thought, and you instinctively shook your head again. “I can’t. What if it’s positive? What am I supposed to do? What’s Paul going to say? What about the pack or my parents? Shit! My parents Em!” Your voice cracked, panic bubbling up as the possibility became more real. Pregnant. You couldn’t possibly be pregnant. No, it was just stress. You’d been so stressed lately. Periods were often late when stress was abundant. Yeah, just stress.
Emily squeezed your hand. Her calm presence grounding you. “If it’s positive, you’ll figure it out like you always do. You’re not alone in this, okay? You have me. You have Paul. And you have the while pack. Whatever happens, we’ll all be here for you.” Her voice was low and soothing as it always was. Her reassurance should have been comforting, but your thoughts were spiraling. The only thing you could focus on was the quiet truth settling into the back of your mind. You might really be pregnant. She stood with you still trying to process what was likely true.
Emily slipped out the door after giving you a reassuring smile. Her keys jingling as she walked to the front door. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes,” she’d said. “And don’t even think about panicking while I’m gone. Just breathe. I’m going to go buy one from the pharmacy. It won’t be a big deal if someone sees me buying one.” Easier said than done.
You sat stiffly on the edge of the couch with your knee bouncing restlessly as the minutes ticked by. Emily was right. If anyone saw her buying a pregnancy test, they wouldn’t think twice about it. She and Sam were married, in their twenties, and settled. But you? At nineteen, unmarried, and still figuring out your life, the very idea of people finding out sent a wave of nausea through you.
When Emily returned, she came through the door with the same calm efficiency as before. She held a small paper bag like it contained something perfectly ordinary. She set it down on the table while brushing the rain from her hair as she gave you a steady look. “Alright,” she said. Her tone light but firm. “No one saw me. Not that it would’ve mattered. But I figured you’d want to hear that.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Thank God. I’d die right here if word got back to my mom. Or the whole reservation.” You peeked through your fingers, your voice dropping to a mutter. “This place is like a fishbowl.”
Emily laughed softly and slid the bag toward you. “Relax. It’s done. Now, the next part is up to you.”
You stared at the bag. Your palms suddenly very disgustingly sweaty. Your heart hammered as you reached out and pulled the slim box from inside, the pink lettering glaring up at you like a warning. “I feel like I’m in one of those cheesy after-school specials,” you mumbled, your voice shaky as you tried to make light of the situation.
Emily gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “You’re not. You’re just figuring out what’s next. Go on. I’ll wait here.” With a long breath you stood and made your way to the bathroom, the box clutched tightly in your hands. The next few minutes felt like an eternity. You sat on the edge of the bathtub staring at the little plastic stick on the counter, its blank screen taunting you.
When your phone buzzed with the timer you’d set, your stomach flipped. You stood slowly, your hands trembling as you picked up the test. Two pink lines.
Positive.
Your knees felt weak as you gripped the counter for support as a tidal wave of emotions crashed over you. A strange mix of fear, joy, and uncertainty swirled in your chest, leaving you utterly breathless. You stared at the test for a long moment trying to process what it meant. Your hand drifted to your abdomen as you gulped.
When you finally emerged from the bathroom, Emily was waiting on the couch. Her face was soft as ever with understanding. She looked up as you stepped into the room, the test still clutched in your hand. “Well?” she asked gently. Her brown eyes searching your face for any sign of what it said.
You held up the test. Your mouth dry. “I guess I’m pregnant,” you said with your voice unsteady. Then in a weak attempt to lighten the mood you added with a shaky laugh, “Stealing Bella’s thunder, huh?” Bella’s pregnancy had been the talk of the pack ever since the group found out what she was carrying. Then the vampire human baby decided to make its appearance after only 28 days. The thought sent a shiver down your spine as you thought of what carrying a werewolf baby would entail.
Emily blinked, then burst into laughter. Her head tilting back as she shook her head. “Oh, you’ve got to stop hanging out with Paul so much. You’re picking up his sense of humor.” She grinned as she gave your arm a reassuring squeeze.
Despite your spinning thoughts her laughter pulled a smile from you. She wrapped you in a warm, steady hug. “It’s going to be okay,” she murmured, her voice firm. “Paul loves you so much. More than I ever thought he’d be capable of. You’re not doing this alone.” You clung to her words like a lifeline as tears brimmed in your eyes. You weren’t sad… no, not at all. You were simply overwhelmed as this had not been in your plans. You were going to get married to Paul in a few years and maybe have some kid’s years after that. Not now. But life had a funny way of throwing you completely off. First, being imprinted to a damned werewolf. Now this.
You sat at the kitchen table with the pregnancy test still in your hand. Emily had made you a cup of tea. The warm mug sitting untouched in front of you as your thoughts spiraled. You’d stared at the little pink lines so long now that they were practically burned into your vision. A constant reminder of the new, terrifying reality that had just taken shape.
Emily leaned against the counter, watching you with a mixture of patience and quiet concern. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked gently.
You let out a shaky breath, placing the test down on the table so gently as if it might explode. “Everything,” you said. Your voice barely above a whisper. “I mean… Paul and I are nineteen. This wasn’t exactly in the plan. What if he’s not ready for this? What if he feels… trapped?” The thought made your stomach churn. You couldn’t shake the image of his face falling when you told him.
Emily frowned, stepping closer and taking the chair across from you. “Yes, you both are young, but you know he’s devoted to you. He’d run through fire for you without thinking twice. That’s the bond. It’s unshakable.”
You nodded slowly, but her reassurance only soothed one layer of your anxiety. “But what about my parents?” you asked. Your voice cracking yet again. “If they find out, they’ll never let me hear the end of it. They’ll say I’m ruining my life. That we’re not ready. And Paul’s parents… What if they think I’m irresponsible or… God forbid, trying to trap him or something?”
Emily shook her head firmly. “No one who knows you would think that. You and Paul have been through so much already and you’ve come out stronger every time. His parents will see that. His parents love you. And as for your parents…” She gave you a small, wry smile. “They’ll probably be shocked at first. Maybe even upset. But they’ll come around. They always do.”
You laughed bitterly, rubbing your temples. “It’s not just them. It’s the pack, too. What are they going to think? There’s so much going on right now. Jacob imprinting on a half-vampire baby, the Cullen drama, all of it. This is the worst time for this to happen. What if they see it as a distraction? What if they resent me for pulling Paul’s attention away?”
Emily reached out grabbing for your hand. “First of all, no one in that pack would resent you. You know how they are. They’re family, even if they don’t always show it the right way. And second, you’re not pulling Paul’s attention away. If anything, this will give him more to fight for. Plus, I think they all like you more than Paul anyway.” She added with a mischievous grin.
Your chest tightened at her words. A mix of hope and fear swirling inside you. “But what if I’m not enough?” you whispered. “What if I can’t handle this? What if I ruin everything?”
Emily’s grip on your hand tightened. Her scarred fingers warm and steady. “You’re more than enough,” she said firmly. “You’re strong and you have so many people who love and adore you. You’re not doing this alone. Paul’s going to be over the moon, you’ll see. And the pack? They’ll probably throw a barbecue to celebrate.”
Despite the storm of emotions swirling in your chest that last comment drew a weak laugh from you. “Yeah, and Embry will probably make a joke about Paul being the first one to ‘start a litter,’” you muttered.
Emily grinned. “Probably. But you’ve got to admit, they’d all step up to make sure you and that baby are safe. It’s what they do.”
You took a shaky sip of tea. The warmth grounding you for a moment. Deep down you knew Emily was right. But the thought of telling Paul, and everyone else, still felt like standing on the edge of a cliff. “Guess I’ll find out soon enough,” you murmured while staring down at your tea. “I just hope you’re right.”
Emily smiled softly, giving your hand one last squeeze. “I’m always right,” she teased. Her voice light. “Now, let’s figure out how you’re going to tell Paul. You’ve got this.”
Just as you were going to ask her how in the hell you’d drop this bomb on him the front door opened loudly, followed by the familiar sound of Paul’s laugh, low and warm, rolling through the house. “We’re back!” Quil called out, clearly in a good mood. Jared muttered something about food and within seconds all three of them were in the kitchen rummaging around for snacks.
You sat frozen at the kitchen table gripping your mug of now-cold tea. Your eyes were glued to the wall like it might have answers to the mess of thoughts tangling in your head. Emily shot you a look that practically screamed, you better handle this soon, before helping the hungry wolves to whatever snack she deemed acceptable.
“Hey,” Paul’s voice broke through the fog. You looked up just as he walked over to you. His usual easy grin faltering slightly as he studied your face. He crouched in front of you, his warm hands resting on your knees. “You okay? You’ve got that look.”
“What look?” you asked. Your voice faltering slightly as you tried to sound normal.
“The one that says you’re either about to cry or punch someone.” He tilted his head. His grin returning. “Hopefully not me.”
You forced a laugh but it came out weak and shaky. “I’m fine. Just tired. You know, the usual.”
Paul narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced. His sharp instincts both as a wolf and your imprint meant there was no hiding anything from him for long. “Uh-huh. Sure babe. You’re totally not being weird. Not at all.” He teased lightly.
“I am not!” you shot back too quickly. His brows shot up.
“Okay…” He dragged the word out, standing and looking toward the kitchen where Quil and Jared were now arguing over a loaf of bread. Paul glanced back at you. His concern deepening. “Wanna take a walk? Fresh air might feel good.”
You hesitated. Your pulse roaring in your ears. You couldn’t do this here. Not with Jared and Quil’s supernatural hearing and Emily’s knowing looks. “Yeah,” you muttered finally, standing abruptly. “Let’s go.”
Paul smiled softly and walked behind you as you made your way out of the house. He grabbed his jacket and followed you out the door. The crisp air hit your skin, grounding you slightly as you led him down the gravel path toward the edge of the forest. Paul stayed quiet. His hands stuffed in his pockets as he matched your pace. He didn’t push but you could feel his eyes on you. His quiet presence making your nerves churn even more.
When you finally stopped, he turned to face you. His expression soft but cautious. “Alright then,” he said, leaning back against a tree. His arms crossing over his chest. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting… off since we got back. And don’t tell me it’s nothing because I know you better than that love.”
You fidgeted. Your fingers twisting the hem of your sweater as you avoided his gaze. Your stomach was in knots and the words felt stuck in your throat. “Paul, I… I need to tell you something,” you started. Your voice barely above a whisper.
“Okay,” he said, his tone steady but laced with worry. “Whatever it is, just say it.”
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Instead, you made a strange almost choking sound which made his eyes widen. “Are you okay? It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay.” he said while stepping closer.
“I’m fine!” you said too quickly yet again. Your voice pitching higher than you wanted. “It’s just… this is… ugh!” You threw your hands up while pacing a few steps before spinning back to face him. “You’re going to freak out.”
Paul blinked slowly. His brows knitting together as a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up before babe. What’s going on?” You just had to tell him. Just do it.
You stopped pacing. Your chest tightening as you blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Paul’s face went blank, his arms dropping to his sides as he stared at you. You felt the blood drain from your face. The panic rising as his lack of reaction stretched on. “Paul?” you whispered. Your voice trembling. “Say something. Please, say something.”
He blinked, his lips parting slightly. “You’re serious?” he asked in a silky soft voice like he was trying to make sure he’d heard you right.
You nodded. Your throat tight. “Yeah. I just found out today. I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to be like this. I wasn’t even sure how I should tell you, because I know we’re young, and everything’s crazy right now, and…”
“Shh,” he said cutting you off gently. He stepped forward completely closing the distance between you. His hands finding your arms as he looked down at you. Those chocolate brown eyes searching yours. “You’re pregnant? We’re… having a baby? Our baby?”
Your heart pounded as you nodded again with tears welling up in your eyes. “Yeah.”
A slow grin spread across his face. It started small but grew until it lit up his whole expression. He laughed softly almost in disbelief and suddenly pulled you into his arms. He held you so tightly you could barely breathe. “You’re serious?” he asked again. His voice muffled against your hair. “We’re having a baby?”
You let out a watery laugh. Your hands clutching at his jacket. “Yeah. We’re having a baby.” You said softly.
Paul pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes shining with something you couldn’t quite name. “You’re amazing,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I mean it. I can’t even…” He broke off, shaking his head like he couldn’t find the words. “This is crazy, but it’s… it’s amazing. I’m so happy right now,” He grinned before pulling you in for a kiss, “We’re having a baby!”
Tears spilled down your cheeks as a laugh bubbled out of you. “You’re not scared? Or mad?”
“Of course, I’m scared,” he admitted. His hands moving to cradle your face. “But I’m not mad. Never. You’re my world, and now… now we’re building something together. How could I be anything but happy about that?”
You sniffled, leaning into his touch. “Well, I’m glad one of us is confident. Because I was ready to fake my death and disappear into the woods.”
Paul laughed before kissing your forehead softly. “Not a chance. You’re stuck with me, babe. And this kid? They’re going to have the best damn parents in the world.” His hand ran over your abdomen gently.
A small, tentative smile tugged at your lips as you rested your forehead against his neck. “I hope you’re ready to break the news to the pack, though. I can already hear Embry’s jokes.”
Paul’s grin only widened. A glimmer of excitement sparking in his eyes. “We’ve got to tell them.”
Your stomach dropped, and you blinked at him. “Right now?”
“Yes, right now,” he said. His voice filled with conviction. “Why wouldn’t we? This is huge! It’s amazing! They’re going to be so happy for us.”
“Paul,” you said slowly while trying to reel him back in. “We just found out. Don’t you think we should… I don’t know, let it sink in first? Maybe figure out how we’re going to explain this before we say anything?”
But Paul shook his head. His hands framing your face with a tenderness that made your chest ache. “There’s nothing to explain, babe. This is good news. They’re family. They’ll support us no matter what. And if anyone has anything negative to say…” His voice dropped slightly. A spark of protectiveness flaring in his tone. “They’ll have to deal with me. But they’re going to be so excited love. So damn excited.”
You hesitated. Your doubts lingering. “It’s not that simple, Paul. What if they think it’s irresponsible? Or too soon?”
He took your hands, his gaze steady and unwavering. “Look, I know things are messy right now. The timing might not be perfect. But then again, when is it ever? What matters is that this is ours. You, me, and this baby. We’re going to be okay because we have each other.” His voice softened and the corners of his lips tugged into a smile. “I want to celebrate that with the people who care the most about us.”
His sincerity broke through your defenses, and you sighed, nodding reluctantly. “You’re sure?”
“I’ve never been so sure of anything,” he said. His smile warm and full of pride. “You’re carrying our baby. How could I not want to shout it from the rooftops?”
A small laugh slipped out despite yourself. You shook your head at his antics. “Fine. But if this goes sideways, you’re the one dealing with the fallout.”
Paul chuckled, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Deal. Now, let’s go tell them.”
As he led you back toward the house, his excitement practically radiating off him, you still felt a twinge of nerves. But the way he held your hand, so steady and unshakable, made you believe that somehow everything would work out.
The moment you and Paul stepped back into the house. Emily’s eyes flicked to the two of you. Her lips curled into the smallest, most knowing smile. Her gaze lingered on Paul who was still vibrating with energy like he could barely contain himself. She exhaled softly, relief washing over her face.
“He knows, doesn’t he?” she asked you, her voice low enough that only you and Paul could hear.
“Of course, I know,” Paul cut in with his grin so wide it was practically smug. “You really think she could keep something like this from me?” His arm wrapped protectively around your waist. His hand warm against your side as he glanced down at you. “She tried, though. Gotta give her credit.”
Emily’s smile grew. She stepped closer to squeeze your hand. “I’m glad you told him,” she said simply. Her calm steadiness grounded you in a way nothing else could.
Jared and Quil, however, were still oblivious. Quil frowned at Paul. His sandwich frozen halfway to his mouth. “What’s up with you? You look like you just hit the jackpot.”
“Yeah,” Jared added, leaning back against the counter. “You’ve got that weird, smug thing going on. Like you know something we don’t.”
Paul smirked, his fingers flexing slightly on your waist. “Maybe I do.”
Quil rolled his eyes. “You gonna share with the class, or…?”
Paul leaned against the back of the couch looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Let’s wait until everyone’s here,” he said, glancing toward the door. “Don’t wanna repeat myself.”
Jared groaned. “Dude, seriously? You’re such a…”
“Later,” Paul interrupted. His grin growing wider. Jared muttered something under his breath, but Paul didn’t seem to care. His attention stayed on you. His thumb brushing absently along your hip.
By the time Sam and the rest of the pack arrived the room was buzzing with conversation. The pack had settled in, tired but loud as usual, filling the space with their usual chaos. You could feel your nerves creeping back but Paul’s steady presence beside you kept them at bay.
Once the noise quieted enough for him to speak, Paul cleared his throat. All eyes turned toward him. The sudden intensity of his expression silencing even Quil’s usual chatter.
Emily, sipping her tea, shot Paul a look. Silently daring him to be subtle. But Paul being Paul had no plans for subtlety. He straightened while crossing his arms over his chest as he cleared his throat. “Me and Y/N… we’re not just us anymore. We’re adding one.”
The room went silent. All eyes turning toward him. Jared frowned. “What does that even mean?”
Quil looked at you both, confused. “Wait. Did you get a dog? Please tell me it’s a dog.”
Paul smirked, clearly reveling in the suspense. “Nope. Not a dog.”
Embry tilted his head, his brows furrowed. “A cat? Fish? What?”
Paul chuckled, dragging it out just a little longer. “Think bigger.”
Quil’s eyes narrowed and then he gasped. His mouth dropping open. “Oh my God! You’re moving?! Are you leaving the rez?”
Paul groaned before dragging a hand down his face. “No! Not moving, not a pet, not a damn secret stash of food.” He glanced at you. His grin softening slightly and nodded like it was your moment to take over.
And you couldn’t help it. With all their clueless guesses and Paul’s smug antics a laugh bubbled out of you, warm and uncontrollable. Everyone froze, watching you with the most curious eyes and through your laughter, you managed to blurt, “We’re having a baby!”
The room went completely still for a beat, Jared’s apple frozen mid-air as his jaw dropped. Quil looked between you and Paul. His face blank before he finally sputtered, “Wait… like an actual baby?” Even Sam looked a little shell shocked at that news.
“Yes, Quil,” Paul said dryly though his grin betrayed his pride. “An actual baby. Our baby.”
Jared blinked rapidly then burst out laughing, slapping the counter. “Holy shit. You’re serious? Paul Lahote’s gonna be a dad?”
Quil let out a strangled laugh while running a hand through his hair. “Wow. This poor kid’s gonna have your temper, huh? Better hope they get your patience.” He looked at you with a knowing grin.
Sam, who had entered the room halfway through the chaos, finally stepped forward. His expression calm but full of warmth. “That’s great news,” he said simply while clapping Paul on the shoulder before looking at you. “You’re both going to be amazing parents.”
The pack didn’t hold back after that. Quil and Jared immediately started throwing out ridiculous suggestions for baby names while Embry vowed to make the baby a tiny wolf plushie as a first gift. The teasing was relentless, but it was full of love. It was clear that they were genuinely happy for you both. Your earlier nerves vanishing in an instant at their exuberance.
Hours later when the house had quieted and everyone had left, you and Paul found yourselves alone in the dimly lit living room. You curled up against his side. Your head resting on his chest as his arm draped securely around you.
“You know,” you murmured, smiling faintly, “your announcement was terrible.”
Paul laughed. The sound rumbling through his chest. “Terrible? That was brilliant.”
“You had everyone thinking we got a dog,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I think Quil’s still processing.”
Paul smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Hey, I had to keep them guessing. Besides, you’re the one who cracked under pressure.”
You rolled your eyes but the warmth in his gaze softened your retort. His hand moved to your stomach, resting there gently as he whispered, “We’re really doing this, huh?”
“Yeah,” you said softly. Your voice steady. “We are.”
He pressed a kiss to your temple. His voice low and full of quiet conviction. “It’s gonna be perfect. You, me, and our little one. We’ve got this.”
Paul’s lips brushed against yours, slow and deliberate, grounding you for a fleeting moment. His hand, warm and steady on your stomach, reminded you of the little life you’d just announced to the pack. But the moment his forehead rested against yours the weight of what was coming next crept back in.
Your parents. His parents.
You pulled back slightly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as your heart pounded. “Paul,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “How are we going to tell them? My mom is going to flip, and not in a good way. And your mom…”
“Hey,” Paul interrupted softly, his thumb brushing along your jaw. “Look at me.”
You hesitated but the steady warmth in his eyes drew you in. His grin was softer now, tempered with something deeper. “We’ll tell them the same way we told the pack, together. And if your mom flips, I’ll handle it. I’ll handle all of it. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
“I don’t know if you’ve met my mom,” you whispered. Your voice wavering as you tried to find humor in the situation. “She’s going to think this is reckless. She’ll probably yell. A lot.”
Paul’s grin widened, and he tipped your chin up with his knuckle before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Then let her yell. I’ll stand there and take it because, at the end of the day, none of that matters. What matters is us and this baby.”
You swallowed hard trying to keep your emotions from bubbling over. “But what if it’s too much? What if they think we’re too young, or not ready, or…”
Paul’s grip on you tightened slightly. His voice cutting through your spiral. “Then I’ll marry you tomorrow,” he said. His tone firm but laced with tenderness. “If that’s what it takes to make them see how serious I am, I’ll do it. Hell, I’ll do it tonight if you want.”
Your breath caught as you stared at him, wide-eyed. “You’re not serious.”
“I’m completely serious,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “I love you. I love this baby. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re my family now. You’ve always been my family and nothing, not your mom, not mine, not anyone, is going to change that.”
The conviction in his voice broke something loose in your chest. The fear and doubt unraveling as his words sank in. You let out a shaky laugh with tears pricking at your eyes. “You can’t just solve everything by offering to marry me, you know.”
Paul smirked, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Maybe not, but it’s a pretty damn good start, isn’t it?”
You laughed again, softer this time, and leaned into him, letting his steady warmth anchor you. “We’ll figure it out,” you murmured more to yourself than him.
“We already are,” he said, his voice low and sure. “One step at a time. And I’m not going anywhere, no matter what. You know that love.”
As his arms tightened around you, you felt it, the certainty he carried, the unwavering belief that you could face anything together. It didn’t erase all your fears, but it made them feel a little smaller, a little more manageable.
And for now, and forever that would be enough.
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been thinking a lot about paul lahote who has been dating his imprint for YEARS now and takes so much pride in keeping up with his imprint's near insatiable sex drive despite the fact that they're both quite a ways past being teenagers but once in a while he just can't help himself and cums a little too quick when you're making all those pretty noises
"mmph paul-" your voice caught in your throat as he rolled his hips into yours, a little whine escaping when you felt the way the tip of his cock rolled against your clit, the two of you only separated by the thin fabric of his boxers.
the fabric had quite the damp spot on it now, the dark gray patch seeping through as precum dribbled down his cock while he rolled his hips into yours, seeming to be enjoying taking his time listening to the litany of little noises slipping past those plump, swollen lips of yours that he couldn't seem to keep his own off of.
"'m all yours princess," paul groaned into your neck, a heavy sigh leaving his lips when he felt your fingers desperately tugging at his boxers, slipping one hand down to tug at his cock.
he nearly lost his balance when he felt the way you were clenching him, squeezing his eyes shut as his biceps bulged with the effort to keep himself hovering above you, "easy bunny," he managed to get out, his voice tight as he dropped one hand down to gently pry yours off his cock to give him a moment to catch his breath. he knew you'd give it to him if he asked but he was quite determined not to need to ask for your help.
the whimper that left your lips had him trying, and failing, to think of anything other than the way he currently had you naked underneath him, quite literally dripping as you desperately waited for him to fuck you.
in an attempt to soothe the both of you, he tugged his cock out of his boxers and rolled just the tip against your aching entrance, "paul that feels so good-" your voice caught him off guard, the way you whimpered his name combined with the way he could literally feel your warmth throbbing around just the tip of him had him coming undone rather suddenly.
the whimper that escaped his lips had your toes curling, and suddenly your ego shot through the roof when you felt the familiar warmth of his release spilling into your channel, "oh bub," you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck when he buried his face in your shoulder.
"fuck 'm sorry princess," paul's voice was muffled and you just let out another quiet giggle, gently threading your fingers through his hair to massage at his scalp while you gave him a moment to come down from his rather sudden orgasm and get over himself.
he was almost always in control, especially during sex so you'd assumed he was just as caught off guard as you were.
"nothin' to be sorry for," you reassured, pressing your lips to his temple, "i know 's hard not to cum when you see me," you added playfully, letting out a relieved sigh when you felt his chest reverberating with a low chuckle.
"i love you," he murmured into your shoulder after a few moments, regaining his composure enough to lift himself from your chest to look down at you.
you smiled when you saw how relaxed he looked for once in his life, "i love you too," you smiled, sliding your hands down to cup his face in your hands and tug him down for a gentle kiss.
"let me use my fingers, yea?" he asked when you parted from him, chuckling again when he saw you light up as you realized he was still going to make you cum (of course he was, he'd never leave you hanging like that)
a jacob black x reader where reader really wants a baby
Baby Fever
Pairing: Jacob Black x f!reader
Summary: Reader has baby fever
Warnings: not proofread, suggestive themes
A/N: this is a bit short, sorry dearys! + send more reqs!!!!
—————————————-
After Emily and Sam had their baby, you spent a lot of time with them! Always babysitting them whenever you could, they were just the cutest!
All this time with a baby, it made you want one of your own, and so, you went to jacob.
“Jake! Don’t you see how cute Emily’s kid is??” You said happily, “yeah, they’re cute alright,” he said, pausing on working on his bike to talk to you, “c’mere,” he said, drying his hands on a rag before he pulled you into a bear hug, and you immediately hugging him back.
“Imagine if we had a kid of our own? They’d be sooo cute, too.” You murmured against him, “they sure would be, i bet they’d get your attitude.” He joked “oh be quiet.” You said, pulling away, determined to get Jacob to have the same desires as you.
“Hey Jake,” you said, jogging up to him, he’d just gotten off patrol, “hey, Y/n/n,” he said, kissing you on the forehead before messing with your hair, “I babysat Em’s kid again today,” you said, did you now?” He asked, “mhm! I was helping them walk!” You said, gushing. “Imagine if that was our kid? It’d make me really happy, you know.” You said, hinting ay what you want, “yeah, i’d be proud.” He said, going inside and washing up.
You constantly showed him and told him about babies and how you’d hinting about your guys’ non born baby, hinting at that you want a baby, at this point, it was very obvious.
And now, you’re talking with Paul, holding Emily’s baby as the pack fooled around at her and Sam’s house as usual, but you were a bit too close to Paul for Jacob’s liking.
You chatted with him, due to the noise, jacob wasn’t able to hear what you two were talking about, but then Paul got a bit handsy, he knew it might’ve been a way to spite him, but that didn’t calm his jealousy one bit.
He stood up suddenly, taking the baby out of your hands and giving them back to Emily, ushering you into their guest bedroom.
hiii, can you do a paul lahote x reader where she’s his imprint and they got into a massive argument and in heat of the moment broke up and she moved back home to sweden, and one day came back to la push to see old friends and ran into him and the pack with a happy ending??
hey of course ! hope you enjoy :)
thunderclouds - paul lahote x reader
Paul Lahote, was a wildfire.
Impossible to contain, stubborn, temper always running hot.
You had always known being Paul Lahote’s imprint wasn’t going to be easy, but to you, that was okay.
The thing was, you weren’t afraid of him.
That was part of the problem.
The night it all shattered, you and Emily stood in her kitchen of Emily and Sam’s house.
“So, are you excited?” Emily asked as you both put frosting on cookies you helped her make.
She was excited that you showed her your grandmother’s cookie recipe that you grew up loving so much.
“Very.” You answered.
Paul strolled in, his face was near and over your shoulder, you chuckled as you knew he was teasing you. And also because he was impatient about waiting on the cookies to be done.
“Excited about what?” He asked, inserting himself in the conversation.
“We’re going to Neah Bay. She’s coming into my territory.” Emily says.
“Neah Bay?” Paul asked incredulously.
“Yeah.” You answered as you put the frosted cookie on the dish to rest.
“So…When exactly were these plans made?” He says, not even paying attention to the ready cookies.
“Last week. We’re spending the weekend out there.” You casually shrugged.
“Like hell you are.”
You chuckled but there was a touch of uncomfortableness buried in it.
“Nothing’s funny. You didn’t even tell me first. You just up and decided without even thinking about what if something happens out there. It’s too far, it’s too risky.” His face was stoic.
“Paul, it’s not a war zone,” you shake your head a bit at his deathly serious tone, “I don’t need your permission by the way.”
The room went quiet in noise. Others around you pretended to not listen but they failed miserably.
His voice was low, “It’s not about permission, it’s about you acting like I don’t have a say. I’m your imprint. You think I can sit around calm while you’re hours away from here? I don’t think so.”
“That’s the problem, you’re never calm.” You muttered under your breath as you set the frosting down.
“What? What was that? I can’t hear you.” He asked as he put a hand to his ear. You roll your eyes.
“You can hear me just fine.” You say as you move away from the kitchen, abandoning your task.
You stood outside on the porch as your hand gripped the chipped wood on the railing. You glared at the setting sun.
He followed with the screen door slapping behind him.
“Keeping you safe isn’t optional. It’s my responsibility.”
You huffed, “I just want to live my life and do something for myself without you breathing down my neck.”
“You just…Wanna run off somewhere where I can’t follow. You know I can’t. You think I like this shit?”
“That’s your problem…Not mines.”
“Oh, is it?”
“Yeah,” you say as your blood was boiling, you slowly turn your head to look at his stone cold face, “You don’t trust me enough to breathe. You had a fit because I went out of town two months ago. This shit isn’t new. All it’s going to do is get worse and worse. You just want to control me.”
He flinched as if you slapped him, “Control you…” he nodded as he let your words sink in, “Well, if that’s how you feel, then maybe you shouldn’t fuck with me anymore.”
“….Maybe I shouldn’t..” you whispered back in a hiss.
The second the words hit left your mouth, you saw the devastation that flickered on his face.
“You’re saying those words like you hate me now.” He spoke coldly.
The bond of the imprint made you feel just how hurt his feelings were.
The pain stabbed at you in your chest and you felt a spike in anxiety from the feeling alone.
It was too much.
Moving further away from Paul’s taut body, clearly showing him fighting not to phase, you couldn’t stay around him for another second.
The air seemed to be too thick even in the outdoors.
That’s when you went down the porch steps, making your way home.
The decision wasn’t easy. You did a lot of pacing, a lot of thinking, but you knew that if you didn’t do something, things wouldn’t change.
That night, folded clothes were stacked in your suitcase.
You told yourself it was just temporary.
Emily called.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” You answered.
“When you come back over, things should be fine.”
“Um…Emily? I’m…I don’t think I’m coming back over…”
“You’re just saying that because you’re upset.”
“No, really. I mean like…I’m going back home.”
“Home?…You mean like…To Sweden?”
“Yes.” You whispered.
Her voice was quiet as you sat next to your zipped up suitcase.
“Are you..Are you sure about this? I didn’t mean to mess anything up between you two.”
“You didn’t. I should be able to do as I please without him acting like a father. I have one. One old man is enough.” You spoke softly into your cellular device.
“You know how he is. He burns hot, but his flame do go out. Just-” she sighed, “You both don’t mean it. He’ll regret what he said, if he hasn’t already.”
You swallowed before replying, “It’s like this every fight…He makes me feel like I can’t do anything without his permission. He makes me feel guilty just for enjoying myself. I’m sorry but, I have to do this for me.”
“I understand…Just don’t be a stranger.” Emily spoke quietly into the line.
To say that your heart didn’t ache, it would be a lie.
The ache spread through your body like a wild flame, constantly reminding you of what you had left back in La Push.
Sweden treated you well. You received hugs, kisses, and even the lilted rhythm of Swedish from friends and family, made sure to tell you how much they missed you.
You tried.
Hard.
You smiled, laughed and even overly pretended to be interested in the moment.
The thing was, you were in a room full of people, but felt so alone.
Everything was different than the salty warmth of La Push.
Too different.
At night, it would always hit you.
The absence of heat, the way you could feel the tether in your chest pulling, straining, and always pointing you back to him.
It hurt to think of his name.
No matter what, there was still cracks. You avoided questions on why you never dated seriously.
Sometimes, when you least expected it, memories would strike like lightening out the clear sky. Hammering into your brain like thunderclouds.
His rough, warm hand engulfing in yours, the rough, teasing edge of his voice, and the way that his face softened only for you.
That’s when you realized, things with Paul just weren’t all that bad.
Enough was enough. It was to the point where you had the same dream every night.
He stood there silently as you tried to reach out to him but you just couldn’t reach him.
An impulsive decision allowed you to step out of the rental car and take a deep inhale of the damp air.
Nothing changed.
Emily’s house looked exactly as you remembered.
The porch steps creaked with each step. Before you could knock, the door flew open.
Emily’s eyes widened, “Y/N!”
Her arms hugged tight around you. You both swayed as you both clutched tightly to each other.
Sitting at her wooden table, you learned that they were on patrol.
Emily smiled softly, “They’ll be so happy to see you, it’s been so long.”
“Yeah…It has been a while…” you say but she knew your mind was preoccupied.
“Even him,” she reassured, it made you look at her, “You don’t have to see him until you’re ready.”
You exhaled softly. You just didn’t know what “ready” meant.
Days passed. The old friends you made in La Push filled you in on the small town gossip. You smiled and laughed when necessary. Some even found their person.
You just didn’t see yours. Not yet.
You filled your days walking along First Beach, staring into the waves that crashed against each other like thunderclouds.
The sun was low, you sat on a high rock. Your forearms rested on your knees as the horizon turned amber.
Laughter carried down the sand, along with familiar voices.
You froze when you recognized them.
Jared’s eyes caught you first, widening slightly before he gave a small smirk before nudging the figure walking beside him.
Paul.
The moment his eyes met yours, everything ceased to a stop. The waves, your breath, everything.
His body even went rigid as if he couldn’t believe you were real.
He was broader, his face harder than you remembered, but his eyes were still the same. Burning and softening the moment they met yours.
You jumped off the rock, stood as your heart hammered in your chest.
Your name fell from your lips like a prayer.
Jared cleared his throat, giving Paul a farewell pat on his shoulder, “We’ll catch up later…” Jared then gave you a small friendly wave that you returned.
Only you and Paul were standing in the amber glow of the setting sun now.
The air between you two were heavy but very much alive.
“You…Came back.” Paul said softly but his eyes kept swallowing you as if he was trying to soak in the sight of you.
“Um..Yeah,” you looked down a bit, “Just for a visit.”
He nodded once, his jaw was tight and his eyes were fixed on you like he was afraid you would vanish if he were to blink.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked softly.
“I uh..Didn’t think you wanted to see me.”
“Don’t say that,” his eyes hardened at that thought, “I’ve wanted nothing else.”
“You didn’t write..You didn’t call..I just thought…” you shrugged.
“You didn’t call either.”
It was silent for a moment as you both sunk in each other’s words.
“I never stopped loving you, you know. Even if I didn’t say it, I still do. You deserve to know that.” You finally spoke quietly, your words intermixed with the sound of the waves.
He closed the space between you two and he wrapped his arms around you. You immediately melt into his embrace, letting his familiar scent circulate through your lungs.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…I’ll do better. I have no excuses for myself so I won’t sit here and make some up, but I’ll let you breathe. I won’t hound you.” He whispered. You clutched him tighter.
“Just turn your fears into trust. Okay?” You pleaded.
He nodded eagerly as his eyes were warm, “Okay.”
It made you break out into a warm smile as you knew that he meant it. For the first time in a long time, his mouth curved into a trembling smile, it graced his face and you knew that you were the one to draw it out of him with such ease.
Summary: Something is keeping Paul Lahote from giving in completely to the imprinting bond and somehow I’m the last person on the reservation to know why.
Warnings: angstyy as per usual with some curse words
Notes: sorry I’ve been MIA, work is keeping ya girl busy😔 I think one more chapter and it’ll be done👀
Word count: 1750
Masterlist
Previous Part
Paul
It’s not that it’s rare that Sam phases randomly while we’re on patrol, especially when Em is off the reservation and he’s home alone. It is rare that he shifts and immediately raises the howl that lets everyone know something is wrong.
Immediately my hackles are up, Sam?
It’s y/n. His answer has me stopping dead in my tracks, no.
Not again.
W-what- even my thoughts are barely coherent.
Don’t know, she’s with Em at her house. Sam’s answer is quick.
It’s all I need to turn tail and run.
Hospital. They’re on the way to the hospital. Sam amends her location.
I course-correct and run like my fucking life depends on it, because it does.
What’s wrong? Jared’s voice tickles the back of my mind, I can feel the rest of the pack phasing and awaiting an answer.
Watch the res, Paul and I are headed to the hospital.
Jared’s confirmation is lost somewhere in the rushing that’s filled my ears, my brain losing itself to the static of panic.
Not again, I can’t do this again.
You won’t.
I growl at Sam’s false promise and push myself faster.
Reader
“Y/n?” A pair of knuckles rub painfully across my clavicle and it does the trick to bring me back to the land of awareness. “Y/n, can you hear me?”
I groan and try to turn away from the bright lights above me, but the motion is halted by the plastic collar around my neck.
“Best if you don’t move sweetheart,” a female voice above me whispers gently as hands roam my body, checking for broken things. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“She fell down some stairs-” Emily's rambling voice is cut off gently by my nurse.
“I appreciate you, but I need to hear her tell me, hun.”
I crack an eye open, “I hit my head.”
“Pretty hard, by the looks of this CT.” Doctor Cullen hovers over me within my line of sight, “you have a nasty little concussion, sweetheart.”
I groan, “I’ll never live this down.”
Both he and the nurse chuckle, “good to see you’re feeling better, I’ll take this collar off if you promise to stay still.”
I agree to listen and the doctor removes the offending piece of plastic.
“You only suffered a concussion, a nasty lump is on the back of your head, but it’s doesn’t need stitches. I’d like to keep you overnight just to make sure you’re alright, but I don’t see anything life-threatening on your scans. Sound good?”
“Yeah, thanks doc.” I give him a grin that I’m sure looks more like a painful grimace.
“I’ll put in an order for some pain meds and anti-nausea, you just kick back and relax in the mean time.” He reaches up to click off the light above my bed, easing the pressure in my head now that I’m not fighting the brightness of the room.
“Where is she?” A familiar voice shouts down the hallway. Emily pokes her head outside of the open door moments before two large bodies flood into the room.
Sam immediately steps towards the bed while Paul is locked up tight a mere two steps inside the room.
“You’re okay.” The older man releases a sigh between deep breaths, what did they do - run here?
“Concussion, but I’m okay.” I can’t bring myself to look away from Paul, he’s so still that I’m not entirely sure he hasn’t turned to stone right before my eyes. “Paul?”
His eyes snap to mine, pain very obviously evident all over his face, “I-” barely a syllable escapes his mouth before he turns and darts from the room.
I look to Sam confused, “did I do something wrong?”
“No,” sighing, he pulls Emily into his side, “no, he just doesn’t deal well with these types of things.” Squeezing my ankle, he offers a sympathetic smile.
Paul
“Paul?” Jared stops in his tracks as I blow past him in the hallway just outside of the emergency department.
“Paul!” I can’t stop, I need to get outside - I need air, the earth, nature—I need the calm she provides.
Busting through the doors, I’m on a warpath for the forest across the parking lot.
“Paul, stop!” I ignore my best friend, but he’s caught up and yanks my shoulder back.
“What?!” Spinning on him, I let him see the unrest simmering under my skin.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He’s huffing almost as hard as I am, the venom in his voice brings me up short.
“The fuck am I doing, the fuck are you doing?” The heat of the situation is burning through me, causing my defenses to raise, protect.
“I’m trying to figure out why you’re not in that fucking hospital room with your girl.”
I growl, “she’s not my-”
“You can lie to everyone but you can’t lie to me, brother.” He’s unphased by my flash of teeth, used to it all these years. “She’s yours as the day is long and the sky is blue. Why in the hell are you running?”
“She’s fine, alive, awake, breathing. What the fuck am I going to do besides sit in her room and sulk in the corner?” I’m trying hard to hold onto my anger, to let it override the panic, the helplessness of the situation.
“You’re such an ass-”
“Fuck off, you know-” I scoff, ready to be done with this conversation, but he clearly isn’t.
“I do know! I know you’re scared-”
“I’m no-” Jared shoves me, interrupting me again.
“Shut up and don’t lie to me! You’re a fucking idiot if you think keeping her at arms length is going to keep her safe! All it’s doing is hurting you both and you’re wasting time, she won’t turn out like-”
“Don’t.” Everything stills, quiets. It’s like the earth heard the weight of my tone. “No one brings her up, not even you.”
“Choosing to keep this one out of the loop, to keep her out of our pack, isn’t going to keep y/n safe.” He takes a step forward, hands up like he’s afraid to spook me. “Paul, I can’t stand to the side while this eats you away, you know this is inevitable.”
“I can’t.” The hurt bleeds into my voice and I know it’s evident in my eyes, it’s leaking from my soul. “I can’t take that chance again.”
“You have to. She would want you to.”
My eyes close, I know.
Reader
“Dear.” A gentle nudge of my shoulder surprises me awake. “Sorry sweetheart, just a concussion check, I’ll wake you again in a few hours.”
I nod sleepily and my scalp tingles from where the lump still is, I turn away from the light of the door to drift back off when my eye catches something in the corner of my room.
Well, not a something but a someone. Paul. A fully asleep Paul with his arms crossed and slumped over with his chin tucked into his chest. A highly unfavorable position.
My brows furrow in confusion despite the tightening of my chest, he’s here. Not that I want him here or anything, definitely don’t feel any burning in my eyes from the sentiment that he clearly decided to post up in my room overnight like a watchful guardian.
My breath hitches from the emotion that suddenly overwhelms me, my eyes rake down his massive muscular form in what has to be the most uncomfortable plastic chair. I can’t believe he’s here. I wipe at some of the wetness on my cheek, today has been a long fucking day.
Paul stirs slightly, his eyes barely opening as he readjusts his position in the cheap chair. His body stilling when he catches me awake, “hey.” The low rumble of his voice fills my hospital room with a warmth that was missing.
“Hi.” I don’t know what to say as he sits up straighter in his seat. “You stayed.”
“I stayed.” He glances towards the cracked door to the hallway, the faint orange glow of the lights cast a beam straight on him.
He’s kind of gorgeous like this, despite the tiredness radiating from him - his hooded eyes and calm energy have me forgetting why we’re here.
I readjust my propped up position in bed and wince at the tenderness on the back of my head, Paul leans forward like he can’t help the instinct to help.
“You don’t have to stay, I’m fine.” I pick at the fuzz on my blanket.
“Not like I would’ve been able to sleep at home knowing you were here.”
His confession has a small gasp choking it way out of my throat, my eyes snap to his and his jaw clenches.
“And why’s that?” My voice is small, I’m not even sure he could hear my question.
“Blame it on my hero complex.” I can’t see his attempt at nonchalance plain as day.
“Don’t lie to me, you can’t while I’m in here.”
“Says who?”
“Says the injured person.”
“Oh so that’s how you want to play this?”
“It’s not a game, Paul.” My tiredness of this constant back-and-forth with him finally bleeds through, “I’m tired of this being a game.”
He leans forward, elbows on his knees and sighs. “I know.” His head hangs low.
“Then stop. Stop and talk to me.” I plead.
“I’m not ready.” He says it to the floor, I can hear the shake of fear in his voice.
“Sometimes things need to happen even if they scare you. The world won’t wait for you to be ready, it turns whether you want it to or not.”
It’s silent for a good long bit. “Go back to sleep.” He meets my eyes as he whispers the command.
I’m disappointed, I’d hoped we’d made a breakthrough.
He must see the disappointment in my eyes, “you need to rest and this is a conversation for later.”
“Promise?”
He hesitates.
“Promise me, Paul Lahote.”
“I-I promise.” His eyes are screaming panic at me, but I’ll take the small win.
I readjust myself in the bed again, trying to get comfortable. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For staying. For promising me.”
I hear his huff and the creak of his chair as he shifts, “don’t mention it.”
“I will,” I yawn, eyes slipping shut, “goodnight, Paul.”
“Goodnight, darlin’.”
I go back to sleep smiling despite knowing I’ll be woken up yet again shortly; Paul Lahote’s heart is defrosting.
