Warning: angst, it's dramatic, sad, kinda dirty at the end but not detailed. Just mentions of the makeup sex, bad language
Description: the wolves are dealing with vampires. Embry isn't allowed to tell you anything. You aren't happy about it. He gets hurt and you break up with him.
Embry slams his keys down onto the counter as he enters your house. He can smell your scent and hear your rustling in your bedroom. His nostrils flare, his veins pop from his neck, and he growls as he storms into your bedroom.
There you are, lying on your back. Your phone in hand as you mind your business. But you put it down and look over at him.
"Why are you here, Embry?" You whisper and toss your phone to the side.
He kicks his shoes off, still angry as hell. He crawls on top of you and roughly grabs your face. "Because I'm sick of us fighting. Alright?" His thumbs rub your cheeks.
You huff but his eyes and touch naturally make you melt. "Em..."
"No, don't 'Em' me. Do you not understand how I feel about you?" His hands gently shake your head as he makes his point.
Your eyes water and your heart flutters. "But all you do is keep secrets from me. What the hell is going on with the new vampire army? Why are you rarely with me? You don't tell me shit!"
He presses his forehead on yours and closes his eyes. "Baby, I'm trying to protect you. Why can't you just trust me?" He whispers.
Your hands slide up his shoulders and land in his hair, clenching onto it gently. "I trust you. But I want to know what my imprinter is doing. I want to know if I need to worry about you."
He gently presses a kiss to your lips and then pulls back. "My love, it is orders. I can't go against Sam. Physically, I can not."
You sigh and let go of his hair, letting your hands fall by your head. "Fine. I'm... I'm sorry for texting you with attitude. I'm sorry for getting sideways with you. I guess it's hard for me to get used to the fact that my soulmate is a shifter." You giggle.
He smirks and he grabs your jaw gently, shaking your head side to side. "A sexy shifter, actually."
You roll your eyes and laugh. You grab his wrist softly and rub his wrist. "Yeah, sure." Then, you get serious and bite your lip. "I'll stop being a bitch to you. I'll trust you."
He leans down and kisses your forehead. "Thank you, baby."
--- next day ---
You're baking Embry's favorite cake, ready for him to come over after wolfie shit. You're so excited and getting the whole house ready.
Candles, movies, popcorn, a meal, and cake. You've shaved EVERYWHERE and picked out his favorite revealing pajama set he bought you a few months ago.
As you pull the cake out of the oven, your phone rings. You turn off the oven and walk to the counter.
It's Emily. You smile and answer it.
"Hey, girly!"
"Hey, uh.. you.. you need to get here. Like, quick. Embry is hurt." Her voice is quick and panicked.
Your heart stops. Your stomach sinks. You hang up and grab your keys. You slip on shoes and run to your car. You speed out of your driveway and onto the road. You are driving as fast as your racing heart. You don't know what to expect.
You pull into Emily's and see Sam, Paul, and Jared outside pacing around and talking. They look anxious.
You jump out and walk up to them. "Where is he?!"
Sam sighs and gently grabs your shoulders. "He's inside. A vampire was quick. Got to him and Quil. They both have broken bones. Embry's healed out of place too quickly so... Jacob had to re-break them and Sue Clearwater had to fix him up."
You whimper and push past him. "I need to see him." You rush into the house and you hear Embry whimpering in the spare bedroom.
You rush in there to see Sue wrapping up his abdomen and arm.
He meets your eyes and he swallows hard. "I'm so sorry.." he whispers.
Sue finishes wrapping him up and she smiles at you weakly. "He will be okay, sweetheart." She leaves the room.
You stare down at him. You shed tears. You don't move.
"Baby, I know I said to trust me-"
You interupt him. "Well now how the hell am I not going to worry, huh?! How am I going to keep from asking what is happening out there with those bloodsuckers?!"
He growls and tries to sit up but winces. "I'm alive, aren't I?! I'll heal up quickly. Just stop freaking tripping out on me!" He yells.
You pause and stare at him for a second. "And what am I supposed to do if you don't make it out alive?"
He lays his head back and stares up at the ceiling. "I won't die. I'm not leaving you."
"I've heard the legends. You aren't invincible, Embry."
He sighs heavily. "Unfortunately, this is just a risk you have to take, alright! Loving a shifter is not a walk in the park, baby. But I fight hard to stay alive for you."
You shake your head slowly and tears fall down your cheeks. "I can't live with this constant anxiety."
Embry looks at you with worry. "Don't. You. Dare." He growls shakily.
Your chin quivers and you sniffle. "Embry, I'm.. I'm breaking up with you."
Just as you say that, your chest starts to hurt and twist. You clutch your chest and whimper. "Ow..."
He groans and grabs his chest too. Then, he starts sobbing. "God! Fuck! No!"
You run out the room, then out the door, past the other shifters, into your car, and you speed away.
--- Embry 2 weeks later---
Embry is running in the woods. His paws shaking the ground beneath him. He's growling, rabid, unhinged. Biting rabbits that get in his way, going ham on those vampires, never really home or hanging out with the pack.
Then, Embry does the unthinkable.
Sam runs behind him. "Embry! Don't you dare go on Cullen land!"
Embry whimpers and cries. "I have nothing. I have nothing without her. Just let them kill me."
"EMBRY CALL SHE IS ON JARED'S BACK RIGHT BEHIND ME! SHE WANTS YOU RIGHT NOW! YOU STOP! NOW!" Sam's voice is angry, demanding, terrifying.
Embry stops right next to the Cullen land. He turns. He sees Sam and Jared approaching. And there you are, holding onto Jared's fur, looking terrified and determined.
Embry shifts into human form. He unties his shorts from his ankles and put them on quickly.
When they approach, you hop off of Jared. You stomp over to him. You slap his arm and sob.
"EMBRY CALL I ALMOST FUCKING LOST YOU! YOU STUPID IDIOT!" you sob again. You shove his chest.
Sam and Jared huff in relief and turn, running off to leave you two alone.
Embry lets you hit him. His eyes red rimmed. He's staring at you in awe. You're here. You're here for him. You came back.
As you're screaming, he can't hear it. He grabs your face and kisses you passionately.
Your arms fall limp and you kiss him back, melting into his body.
His lips move with yours. His tongue sliding around yours. It's a kiss of longing, hope, love, everything he has felt the last two weeks.
He pulls back slowly and presses his forehead on yours. "My love..." he whispers.
You grip his hips and you sniffle. "I was in pain every day. I miss your eyes, your laugh, your skin.. everything." You whimper.
He grips your hair with one hand and grabs your lower back, pulling you impossibly close.
"Emily and Sam told me everything. Your plan to die. Your... you have been going crazy. And the horrific thing.. is from afar, I felt it all. Your ancestors gave me dreams of you crying and in pain."
Embry swallows hard. "Don't you dare leave me again."
"Never." You whisper.
Later that night, he was an animal. Eating you out, fingering you until you couldn't take it, fucking you multiple rounds. Well, you had it coming, girl.
type. best friends with a dash of something more typa fluff, requested
warnings. gender neutral reader, none!
SUMMARY: seeing your best friend in his wolf form does not have, in his opinion, the desired effect on you. instead of having you running and screaming in the opposite direction, it creates a surge of emotion that can be identified as nothing else than cuteness aggression.
The first time you saw Jacob in his wolf form, you could tell that every member of the pack held back a worried breath. They didn't know how you would react. Jacob, for his part, made sure to keep a good distance between the two of you, not wanting to be too overwhelming. However, the initial shock of seeing your best friend quite literally shred into a huge wolf passed in a matter of seconds. While you didn't exactly launch yourself in his direction to stroke his fur, you calmly approached him, looked in his eyes, and immediately recognized your best friend in the weirdly familiar gaze of the beast standing before you.
Months later, you are still completely in awe when you get to see your best friend's russet wolf form. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, you can't help but stare at him with something akin to admiration in your eyes.
After a walk down one of the quieter beaches of La Push with Jacob, Quil, Embry, and Jared, you watch in wonder as the three boys, itching to let loose in the woods, change into their wolf forms. Jacob stays by your side as you applaud and cheer like an excited toddler. The three wolves puff up their chest with pride before hitting the wet sand with their paws, disappearing from view in a matter of seconds.
You're still looking in the direction they left, trying to catch one last glimpse, when Jacob's chuckle brings you back from your reverie. "You're so weird."
"Why?"
"Because my friends just turned into huge wolves, and you didn't even bat an eye."
"Why would I?"
He looks at you, stupefied. "Because we’re used to it, it's part of our history, but come on. You learned that we're shapeshifters and you don't even give me the satisfaction of seeing you cower a little."
"Cower?" You scoff. "You say that like I should be scared."
He softly kicks a pebble with the tip of his shoe, and it flies off in the distance, a subtle reminder of how not completely human he is. "You should be. Honestly, it's a little insulting that you're not."
"Jake, I'm sorry, but you are not scary in your wolf form. At least not to me. You just turn into a very big puppy."
His head whips in your direction, "A puppy?!"
You nod with a nonchalant lift of your shoulders, not realizing how much of a challenge those words are for him.
"Not scary, uh?"
You’re busy looking at the waves crashing against the sand, when you distinctly hear the sound of clothes ripping. You sharply turn back, but Jake is no longer standing behind you. In his place, a giant wolf stands, fangs bared, his paws leaving deep traces in the sand.
He inches towards you, head and ears lowered, as a deep rumble shakes his body.
He's trying to scare you, and it's not working at all.
"Jacob Black, you stop that right now. I know this beach is remote, but anyone could show up."
Hands on your hips, you stare him down until his ears lift back up and you see a shadow of shame fleeting in his eyes. You brazenly step up to him, "I'm really sorry to mess with your little stunt, but I told you. You’re not scary."
You look around for any sign of human life, but you're in a secluded bay, and the dense woods are your only companions. Reassured by this, you allow yourself to relax a little and take another step towards him. "In fact, you should be scared."
Your hands go up to grab his muzzle, your fingers sinking into his warm fur. "You're so cute, I just want to smother you, but in a good way. I think it’s cuteness aggression. You basically give me the same feeling as when I see a cute dog. Except you're much bigger and I know I can't hurt you."
Your hands trace the lines of his canine face, while his eyes flutter shut. "See, just a big innocent puppy."
Your jaw tenses up as the urge to squish him rises in you. Incapable of resisting, you squeeze as hard as you can, softly shaking his big face from left to right, "You're just too cute!"
Impulsively, you kiss the tip of his nose. You would never dare to do this normally, but somehow, it feels different when he is in this form. It's all less intimidating. Probably because, like this, he can’t flash you that knee-weakening grin of his or taunt you.
He seems frozen for a second, but you've gotten pretty good at deciphering his expressions, even with a completely different morphology.
There's a twinkle in his eyes, and without warning, he licks your cheek, earning a mix between a laugh and a groan from you. "Jacob, that's disgusting!"
Goofily, he grins, showing off his large canines. "Listen, you might be even cuter in this form, but I won't forgive you for this."
Immediately, you see his stance change, his mind focusing on the words that left your lips. He tips his head to the side, a mocking glow in his eyes, his wolfish eyebrows (if you can call them that) raised to the sky.
"Oh, shut up," you mutter, embarrassed by your slip-up.
He leaves you alone for now, but later, when you jump in your truck to return home, he looks at you with a grin, "So, even cuter, eh?"
A/N: Buckle up guys it’s time for a bonfire!!! As always thank you for all the support on this little idea of mine. It truly means the world! My ask box is always open for any requests or chats you might have!!!
Lastly, if you’re interested in joining the taglist for this story just shoot me a message or comment down below and let me know and I’ll get you added for the next one!
—
The bonfire ends up being directly on the beach, already blazing decently high by the time you and Paul get there. He’d all but forced one of his sweaters over your head when he’d picked you up that afternoon, claiming that the jeans and long sleeved shirt you found in your closet wouldn’t be sufficient. You’re clutching a blanket to your chest in a nervous grip as you pick your way through the softer sand onto the sturdier shore.
You can see two men setting up what appears to be two small folding tables while two women begin to unpack the contents of two coolers onto it. They catch sight of you and Paul first, the shorter of the two abandoning the bowl she’d been in the middle of setting out to greet you both.
“Paul!” She crows, long dark hair fluttering in the sea breeze. “We weren’t sure you were coming. Jared thought you were planning on keeping her all to yourself.”
”Knock it off Kim, I said I was bringing her didn’t I?” You don’t have to be looking at Paul to tell he’s rolling his eyes goodnaturedly at the woman in front of you.
”Yeah yeah.” She gripes, her attention sliding to yours with a broad smile. “I’m Kim, Jared’s better half. We’re so glad you came, the numbers are finally even!”
”Glad to be of service.” You can’t help but laugh, letting Kim link her arm with your good one to tow you closer to the group.
“Babe look! You owe me twenty!” Kim draws the attention of one of the tall men. He breaks away from where he’d been talking with the other two, drawn to Kim almost like a magnet. His arm loops around her waist as if it were instinct and he hides his smirk in her hair. “You’ll learn not to bet against me one of these days.”
”Maybe tomorrow. Hey, I’m Jared.” His nod to you is friendly, polite but still cautious, something you can understand. You really are a complete stranger to all of them at the end of the day. He’s quickly pulled away from Kim by Paul’s strong grip, the pair stumbling a few feet off in their roughhousing.
“We’re glad you could make it.” A different voice cuts in. You turn to greet the other two, the largest of the men holding a hand out for you to shake. You take it somewhat awkwardly trying your best not to drop the blanket still in your grasp. “I’m Sam, this is my fiance Emily. It’s nice to see you not on the verge of turning blue.”
You grin at the way Emily elbows Sam, turning to shoot a swift look up at him. She turns just the right way for the light from the fire to catch the side of her face. Your eyes can’t help but to land on the scars that Paul had warned you of but you do your best to swiftly divert your gaze to her warm eyes not wanting to make any of them uncomfortable.
“Thanks,” you huffed a quiet laugh glad to see that nobody was going to be walking on eggshells around you. “Thank you again for everything you guys have done with the cabin and all. I really appreciate it.”
”Don’t mention it, you’re family now as far as we’re concerned. Come on, those two might be a while.” Emily pulls out of Sam’s hold to take up your other side and together the three of you finish the trek to the roaring fire.
Paul joins you a while later once you’re settled on the blanket and chatting happily with the girls. He’s bearing two plates piled high with more food than you’ve ever seen someone possibly eat in one sitting. You’re even more shocked when he plops one down in your lap along with an icy cold beer can.
“Don’t look so surprised, we’ll call it a perk of not knowing how old you actually are.” He teases nudging your shoulder with his, cracking a can of his own open.
”And your excuse is?” You quip back, already investigating what your plate holds. “I might not remember who I am but I do remember you being only nineteen.”
”Semantics, sunshine.”
The six of you settle into a comfortable rhythm, jokes and laughter coming easy. The ball of nerves that had tightened in your chest on the way over finally released at the way the group integrates you in seamlessly. By the time you’re finished eating it feels like you’ve been in the fold for years. You’d barely made a dent in the plate that Paul had made you, and you felt bad about letting it go to waste until Paul took it off your hands. He stacked yours on top of his already empty plate and kept eating without breaking his conversation with Sam.
“So what do you think brought you all the way here? I mean most of the time tourists pick Seattle or hell somewhere sunnier.” Kim’s question comes in the middle of two other conversations and somehow manages to end them both effectively turning all the attention to you.
“Um, well I’m not really sure. It’s really pretty here, maybe I was coming for the scenery.” You frown a little, frustration bubbling up at the nagging feeling that you know why you came to La Push, but you just can’t put a finger on it. You think you hear Sam mumble something about enjoying the scenery alright under his breath, but Emily stomps not so subtly on his foot and flashes you a consoling smile.
“A lot of people come to watch the whales this time of year. Maybe you were interested in animals.” You hum noncommittally at that. Sure animals were cute and all, but you don’t think you were particularly interested in them pre-fall. “Oh! There’s some beautiful trailheads around here too, maybe you’re a hiker or some kind of wilderness explorer.”
”I must have made for a pretty bad one to fall off the side of a cliff.” You snort at that, leaning closer to Paul as subtly as you can when the wind picks up. Despite all the layers and the fire burning merrily in front of you it really was getting quite cold and he seemed to radiate heat like a furnace. You’re happy to just have him blocking a bit of the breeze until he slings an arm around your shoulders and hauls you even closer. You’re sitting hip to hip now and trying your hardest to will the furious blush rising up your neck away.
Conversation quickly transitions from conspiracy theories about your appearance in town to a rumor Jared and Kim heard in town about one of the teachers at the local school. You had no clue who anyone in the story was, but was content to just bask in the sound of their voices and the warmth all but pouring out of Paul.
”Are you having fun?” His voice is low, quiet enough not to interrupt Kim and Emily’s heated debate but loud enough to be heard over all the noise.
“Definitely. Your friends are really great.” You tilt your head up to smile at him, surprised to find him already grinning down at you. He really is handsome, the fire cutting sharp angles on his face and sparking off the lighter flecks of color in his deep brown eyes. The wind has tousled his hair a little, sending it poking up at odd angles, but you still find him as attractive as you had the day you deliriously woke up in the hospital.
“They’re yours now too.” He tugs at a loose strand of hair floating around your face. “Warm enough? You can have this jacket too if you need it.”
”No I’m okay, this is good.” You duck your head a little bashful at the brilliant smile he sends you when you admit to liking being cuddled up to him. Paul tightens his arm around you, pressing you more firmly up against him before turning his attention back to the group.
The bonfire burns on into the early hours of the morning, and by the time you’re packing up to leave you’ve secured an invitation to spend your days with Emily when you’re free and Paul is working. You learn that he’s employed as a carpenter working with Jared for Sam’s construction company that they’re working to get off the ground. Work is apparently slow coming, but they’re negotiating with officials in Forks to secure a contract to maintain the school’s buildings.
Together the six of you make quick work putting out the fire and loading everything up in Sam’s truck. You try to help but get relegated to holding the blanket Paul brought when he catches you trying to lift things one handed. Kim and Emily pull you into tight hugs once everything is done, both a little buzzed from the alcohol that had been passed around. You’re feeling a little light on your feet, though whether it’s from the beer or the high of the night you’re not sure.
“Don’t be a stranger Sunny, you don’t need an invitation to come see me.” Emily gives you an extra squeeze while saying goodbye.
”Sunny?” You question, tilting your head in confusion at her.
“Well we have to call you something, and I don’t think Paul over there would appreciate it if we all started to call you sunshine.” She delights at your blush and Paul’s noise of protest, squeezing your good hand that was still entangled in hers. “We can think of something else if you don’t like it, but I think it suits you.”
”No, it’s. I like it.” You grin back at her and Kim, their excitement infectious. “It feels right.”
Summary: Deep in the forests of La Push, Paul Lahote encounters a mysterious fairy girl hidden beneath the trees — glowing wings, ancient magic, and a presence capable of calming the rage he’s carried for years. What begins as suspicion quickly becomes something far more dangerous when Paul realizes he’s imprinted on her.
The first time Paul Lahote saw her, he thought she was a hallucination.
It was nearly midnight in the forests surrounding La Push, the air wet with rain and salt from the ocean cliffs. Paul had shifted hours ago after another pointless argument with Jared and Embry, and he was still too angry to go home. The wolf inside him paced beneath his skin like a living storm.
That was when he caught the scent.
Not vampire.
Not human.
Something green and sweet and cold, like flowers after a thunderstorm.
Paul moved silently through the trees until he reached a small clearing hidden beneath towering pines. The moment he stepped into it, the wind died completely.
And there she was.
Standing barefoot in the center of the clearing, glowing silver beneath the moonlight.
Her dress drifted around her legs like mist, pale green fabric threaded with tiny gold leaves. Delicate wings shimmered behind her back, translucent and veined with light. Fireflies floated around her hands as though they belonged to her.
Paul froze.
The girl looked up slowly.
Huge eyes met his.
For one impossible second, the entire world stopped.
Imprinting felt nothing like people described.
It wasn’t lightning.
It wasn’t fireworks.
It felt like the earth splitting open beneath him.
Every sound disappeared except her breathing. Every instinct inside him suddenly rearranged itself around one single truth:
Her.
The wolf inside him immediately went still.
The girl tilted her head, studying the massive russet wolf crouched at the edge of the clearing. Instead of fear, curiosity flickered across her face.
“You’ve been following me for three nights,” she said softly.
Paul blinked.
Then realized she could understand him.
He shifted back instantly.
One second there was a wolf, the next a tall shirtless boy stood barefoot in the mud, breathing hard. “You knew?”
“I can hear your thoughts when you’re transformed.” Her lips curved slightly. “They are very loud.”
Paul’s face burned red immediately. “Great.”
The girl smiled fully then, and Paul genuinely forgot how to breathe.
“You are Paul Lahote,” she said.
“How do you know that?”
“The forest does.”
That answered absolutely nothing.
Paul crossed his arms. “Okay, now you’re sounding creepy.”
“You were less rude in your thoughts.”
“I’m always rude.”
“I noticed.”
She stepped closer, moonlight catching against her wings. Up close, she barely looked real. Tiny glowing freckles dusted her cheeks, and silver vines curled around her wrists like bracelets.
Paul’s heartbeat went feral.
“What are you?” he asked quietly.
“A fairy.”
He stared at her.
“That’s not a joke?”
“No.”
“…Right.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“You have wings.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re glowing.”
“Yes.”
“But saying ‘I’m a fairy’ sounds insane.”
Her laughter rang through the clearing like music.
And somehow, impossibly, it calmed every violent thing inside him.
Paul frowned immediately. “What did you just do?”
“I laughed?”
“No. That.” He pointed at her accusingly. “Whatever magic thing that was.”
Her expression softened slightly. “You are angry all the time.”
“That’s just my personality.”
“No,” she said gently. “It’s pain.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
Paul looked away first.
The silence stretched between them, filled only by distant waves crashing against the cliffs.
Then she reached toward him slowly.
Every instinct screamed at him to move. Wolves didn’t trust unknown creatures. Sam would lose his mind if he found out about this.
But Paul stayed still.
Her fingertips brushed his wrist.
Warm light spread beneath his skin instantly.
The constant buzzing anger in his chest quieted.
Not disappeared.
Just… softened.
Paul inhaled sharply. “Holy shit.”
“You carry too much rage,” she murmured. “It hurts you.”
Nobody had ever said it like that before.
Usually people told him to control himself. To stop snapping. Stop yelling. Stop losing control.
But she looked at him like anger was an injury instead of a flaw.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
The fairy hesitated.
Then, softly—
“Y/N.”
Paul repeated it under his breath like something sacred.
And for the first time in years, the storm inside him eased.
—
“You disappeared for six hours!”
Jacob Black looked ready to strangle him as Paul walked into the pack meeting the next morning.
“We thought you got yourself killed,” Embry added.
Paul ignored them completely, grabbing a soda from the fridge.
Sam narrowed his eyes immediately. “Why are you smiling?”
Paul nearly choked.
“I am not smiling.”
“You literally skipped in here,” Jared said.
“I did not skip.”
“You’re doing it right now,” Jacob said.
Paul stopped himself mid-step.
Crap.
The truth was worse than any of them could imagine.
Because ever since meeting Y/N, everything felt different.
Colors looked brighter.
The constant pressure in his head felt quieter.
Even shifting felt easier somehow.
And every second away from her made his chest ache.
“She’s dangerous,” Sam warned after Paul finally admitted there was “someone” in the woods.
“She’s not.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that.”
“You imprinted,” Jacob realized suddenly.
The room went silent.
Paul glared at the floor.
Embry’s jaw dropped. “No way.”
“On who?” Jared asked immediately.
Paul stayed quiet.
Then Jacob’s eyes widened in horror.
“…Why do I smell flowers?”
Paul froze.
The back door creaked open softly.
Every wolf in the room tensed instantly.
Y/N stood in the doorway, silver wings folded behind her back. Sunlight spilled across her glowing skin while tiny white flowers bloomed beneath her bare feet against the wooden floorboards.
The entire pack stared.
“Holy crap,” Embry whispered.
Y/N’s eyes immediately found Paul.
And she smiled.
That same impossible calm spread through him again.
Sam stepped protectively in front of the others. “What are you?”
“A friend,” she answered softly.
“No offense,” Jared muttered, “but you look like the kind of thing that lures people into lakes.”
“I did that once,” Y/N admitted thoughtfully.
Paul barked out a laugh while everyone else looked horrified.
“She’s kidding,” he said.
Y/N glanced at him innocently.
“…Mostly.”
“Awesome,” Jacob said weakly.
Sam still looked suspicious. “Why are you here?”
Y/N looked at Paul.
“I came because he was hurting.”
The room fell quiet.
Paul suddenly wished the floor would swallow him alive.
But Y/N simply walked toward him without hesitation.
The wolves tensed again as she stopped directly in front of Paul and gently touched his cheek.
Light flickered beneath her fingertips.
And for the first time since becoming a shapeshifter, Paul’s mind went completely quiet.
No anger.
No violent instincts.
No constant pressure to explode.
Just peace.
Paul stared at her in shock.
Y/N smiled softly. “Better?”
His throat tightened unexpectedly.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
Around them, the pack watched in stunned silence.
Because nobody — nobody — had ever been able to calm Paul Lahote before.
But somehow this strange glowing fairy standing in the middle of their kitchen had done it with one touch.
And judging by the way Paul looked at her, everyone in the room realized the same thing at once.
He would burn the entire world down for her if she asked.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.
summary: Edward leaving threw a wrench into your life. Even in his absence, he sticks around. Navigating all of that on top of yours & Bella’s feelings leaves you discouraged and stumped—that is until an unexpected variable is added to the mix, alleviating some of the weight.
word count: 3.5k
cw: descriptions of depression, not eating/under-eating, injury, injury aid, migraine issues, pills (migraine medication), and emotional distress.
a/n: well hello, it’s been a while. sorry about that, i was feeling like bella in the months sequence scene, but we’re doing better now and we’re sooooo back. i want to again draw attention to the fact that this is following the events and timeline of the film series, so please note this is going to be a slower romance fic. in order to really connect the reader to bella as a sister, there will be scenes with her as well as scenes with other characters in general, not exclusively jacob…but this is the start of the new moon movie so we'll be seeing him often as the chapters go on:) this is more than just a jacob fic, this is intended to be a complete insert of reader into the twilight universe. if that's something you're interested in and you want to stick around, here are some romance tropes that will be incorporated here: enemies to acquaintances to lovers, lots of angst, and concepts of a forbidden romance. and as always, no use of y/n:)
October. It went by in the blink of an eye. Charlie gave candy away to the kids that knocked on the door while you sat in the kitchen, mind only being able to focus on the fact that Bella was upstairs, practically rotting away. It scared you, how far gone she seemed. The holidays were some of your favorite times of year, of course, but what made them so special to you was family. Bella. Truth be told, your holidays haven’t been too cheerful since the day she left with Renée. You were hoping that when she came back things would change. And they are, just not in the way you’d hoped.
—
November. Bella didn’t eat much, she snacked on the old Halloween candy Charlie never got out to the kids or the trash—but at least she was eating something. Again, you found yourself sitting at the kitchen table, only this time with Charlie across from you, poking at his peas like they personally offended him. ‘Save some for your sister,’ he’d said, but you didn’t imagine her ever getting around to it. And you were right. You threw the food out a week later.
—
December. You hated yourself for thinking it, but a part of you began to resent Bella. She let this one boy (vampire), who she barely knew, derail her life. Christmas morning was a wreck. It wasn’t excitement for opening gifts that shot you awake bright and early, no—it was Bella having another nightmare. She had stayed in her room the whole day, never getting around to opening her gifts. Charlie ended up unwrapping them for her a few days later, leaving it to you to put them in her room. It was only you who she even bat an eye at, so he thought it best.
—
Going back to school felt like such a drag. You had to wake up earlier than you ever had before just to make sure Bella actually managed to get out of bed, and then you’d drive her to and from school. The dynamics had shifted, and suddenly you felt like the older sister. Growing up, you admired Bella simply for being older, if not anything else. You always found yourself pouting, wanting to be like her—to be older, more mature. Now, you have it. Just in some fucked up way. You would’ve never wasted your childhood birthday candles on such a wish if you knew this is how it would’ve panned out. But here you were, outside, standing beside the truck as Charlie tried to find the will inside of him to stand his ground with her for once.
“You’re going to Jacksonville to live with your mother.”
Your heart sank. Even though having her here had turned out to be more negative than it was positive, she was still here. Besides, if she were to go back to Florida, you wouldn’t be able to make sure she was taking care of herself. Renée wasn’t a good mother, it was as simple as that.
Shaking your head, you found the will inside of you to stand your ground easily, as you often had. “No, she’s staying here.”
Charlie said your name, sighing. “Being here isn’t good for her-”
“I’m not leaving Forks.”
You and Charlie both looked at her then, eyes all sunken in—tired and frail.
“Bells, he’s not coming back.”
She didn’t react. It seemed you and Charlie constantly reminding her of that fact finally took its toll, sinking into her skin in a way she couldn’t sweat out. “I know.”
You’d tuned out their conversation until Bella said she was going shopping with Jessica tomorrow.
Charlie’s brows furrowed. “You hate shopping.”
She inhaled, thinking for a moment. “I need a girls' night out.”
Was she serious? You were here this whole time, her sister, and she wanted a girls’ night out with someone she barely saw outside of school? Someone who barely checked on her?
“Alright.” Charlie nodded. “Girls’ night.”
You couldn’t contain it, you were bitter. “Yeah, you have fun with that.” You huffed, walking away. Her life had taken over yours and she didn’t even think to invite you? Or to have a separate night with you? Has she thought of you at all? If she had, she sure had a funny way of showing it. Neglect is one hell of a thing, enough to make you shell up like she has been doing for the past couple of months.
—
“What the hell, seriously?” You scowled at Bella. Not only was she doing stupid shit when you weren’t around (such as riding a random perv’s motorcycle), but here she was, dragging you to Jacob’s so she could get her adrenaline hit when he fixed the motorcycles. You just wanted to go to the café, not any of this extra shit, and especially not with him around.
“I saw Edward.”
“What?” You jerked to the side, looking at her as she drove.
“Not literally. Just this…shadow, apparition thing.”
So now she was going clinically insane?
“I know you think I’m crazy-”
“Bella, I don’t think you’re crazy, I know it.” It was rude, but your patience had worn thin back in November. You didn’t believe you had it in you to dance around what you were really thinking anymore—to spare her already fragile feelings.
“Thanks.” She said sarcastically, letting out a small breath before licking her lips as she pulled into Jacob’s place—parking and getting out. “Just play nice, okay? I need this. Then we can head to Carver’s.”
“Whatever.” You grumbled, hopping out of the truck just as Jacob ran up to her, picking her up and spinning her around. The sight made you want to gag.
“I see you brought company.” His smile relaxed into indifference as he looked at you.
“Don’t worry, I don’t want me here, either.” You flashed a sardonic smile, walking away like you knew where you were going. You didn’t, but in the few breaths of air you inhaled and the sights you took in as you began to walk around, you found yourself enamored with the environment. You hadn’t messed around in any forestry—you stuck close to, well…your house, school, and the café. That was about it.
There was something especially earth-like here at Jacob’s that soothed your growing migraine, as if the cool air were an ice pack that penetrated further than the dermis. You took a deep breath, letting the air fill your lungs as you turned back around to face Bella and Jacob where they stood, talking. That’s when you saw Jacob handle the bikes like they weighed the same as a packed cooler on a hot July day rather than what they really were—bikes. Instead of being irked by the sight, you found yourself intrigued. So intrigued, in fact, that you didn’t incinerate Bella with just a look alone when she bargained with you. Her offer was that if you came with her every time she went to Jacob’s, she’d take you to Carver Café afterwards. Her reasoning? It’d ensure the two of you spent more time together. When you argued and said it was really only more time with Jacob, she said it’d save gas—she wouldn’t have to drive to Jacob’s, then back home to pick you up, and then to the café before finally heading home. That was logic you couldn’t refute. It was either Jacob’s and then the café, or no café at all. Unless you went with Charlie, of course, but he was often busy with police work and on top of that, you didn’t have much to talk about with him. Your conversations turned into his concern for Bella, one way or another. So, fine. You’d suck it up, spend time around Jacob.
—
You’d been dealing with it, seeing him almost every day. But it’s in moments like these that you debated ditching your cravings for the café, saying ‘fuck it’ and staying home instead of listening to them bicker about their age in a way you found to be roundabout flirting. Hearing Bella talk about her maturity level and influence annoyed you. If anything, you were more mature than she was. Looking at the shit she got herself into, you’d argue that’s a fair point to make. You wished you thought she was right, though, because for once in a blue moon, you actually found yourself agreeing with what Jacob said. Yuck.
The sounds of knocking disrupted their conversation, thankfully. Jacob stood up, handling the little meet and greet. “Hey. Guys, this is Bella. Bella, that’s Quil and Embry.”
“I’m Quil Ateara.” Quil said to Bella.
“And who’s that?” Embry asked, nodding towards you.
Jacob didn’t even look at you as he responded. “That’s Bella’s little sister.”
Your jaw clenched. “I have a name, you know.”
Only then did he look at you. “So say it.”
What a dick. You took a breath, reeling in your anger for the sake of Bella (yet again) as you said your name to the boys. They gave you a look before returning their attention to Bella.
“So, the bike building story is true.” Quil broke the silence.
“Oh, yeah, yeah, I taught him everything he knows.” Bella attempted humor, but it fell flat.
“What about the part where you’re his girlfriend?” Quil continued, not blushing at the topic in the slightest.
You cringed, visibly. The thought of them together made you feel all different types of things, things you haven’t even begun to admit to yourself yet—and you were not going to start any time soon.
Bella looked uncomfortable. “Uh…We’re friends, you know.”
“Ooh, burn.” Embry laughed with Quil.
“Actually,” Jacob began to speak, hesitating slightly. “Remember I said she’s a girl and a friend.”
“Embry, do you remember him making that distinction?”
Embry shook his head. “Nope. He didn’t even mention her,” he pointed at you, absentmindedly, “Leaving her out certainly made things sound a lot more intimate than it actually is. Is she usually here?”
“Every time I come.” Bella nodded, shifting awkwardly.
“I’m gonna go, though. I, uh…forgot something in the truck.” You lied, squeezing past everyone to leave.
“See you later, Bella’s little sister.” Quil grinned.
You put up your middle finger, waving it goodbye as you exited. Was this worth the food?
You’d made it halfway to the truck when Jacob came running after you.
“Hey.” He called out. You ignored him.
He tossed his hands. “Really? Silent treatment?”
“What, like you treat me any differently on a daily basis?”
He caught up, fast. “Look, I don’t want us to have any issues-”
“I’m not mad, Jesus, I said I left something in the truck.”
“Yeah?” He crossed his arms. “Like what? Mind sharing with the class?”
Okay, so you lied. But what the hell does he know? “I’m not lying.”
“Yeah, you are.”
As you squinted, he added onto his assessment. “You do this weird thing with your shoulders when you’re fibbing. You, like…” He rolled his shoulders forward in a dramatic hunch. “You practically curl in on yourself, like you’re trying to shelter the lie. But it doesn’t work, I see right through it.”
You walked over to the passenger side of the truck, opening the door, knowing there was nothing to be found. “You don’t know me.”
“I’ve seen enough of you these past couple of weeks.”
“Don’t know how, it’s not like you ever pay me mind.” God, what were you saying?
He held the door open as you leaned inside, digging for absolutely nothing. “Forgive me for being focused on repairing bikes from a junkyard.”
“I’m not talking about the bikes.”
He was quiet for a moment. “If this is about B-”
“You know it’s about Bella.” You grit, turning around to face him. There he stood, one arm slung over the top of the truck door while the other one was tucked away in his front pocket as he damn near boxed you in. “She doesn’t need more boy drama. I don’t need more boy drama.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Your ‘boys’ in there sure seemed to think so, and they weren’t even around to see half the shit I’ve seen, to hear half the shit I’ve heard. Romance is the last thing she needs right now.”
He cocked his head to the side, peering into the truck. “Can I safely assume you didn’t find what you ‘forgot in the truck’ because there was nothing forgotten in the first place?”
You sighed. “I wish I forgot my migraine meds in here.”
“You get migraines?”
“Yeah. Even worse when I’m around you.”
“Funny.” He deadpanned. “If I get you some migraine meds to ‘forget’ here all the time, can we be cordial? Call it a truce, just when you’re here? Romance may not be good for Bella, I agree, but she really wants these bikes. I can do that for her. But she won’t come, not without you. That one day you stayed home, slammed with studying, she didn’t stop by even though she had no studying to do. No homework, nothing. But you couldn’t come, so she didn’t either.”
You thought for a moment, leaving him to sit in the silence that fell between the two of you. Through seeing Jacob more, she became herself more, which awakened more consideration for you. It made up for her hanging out with Jessica and doing stupid shit without thinking of you at all that one day. “Okay. You get me some shitty migraine medication to leave here for the days I forget to take some and to bring some with me, I’ll keep coming with her.”
“Deal?” He backed away as you stepped forward.
You shut the door, not breaking eye contact. “Deal. Only if this is for the bikes, though. Nothing else. I won’t winggirl you with my own sister.”
“You got it.”
—
“You’re coming to the movies with me tonight.”
You groaned, rolling over from your nap to see Bella standing in your doorway. “What?”
“The movies, you’re coming with me.”
“What movie?” You asked as you sat up.
“Face Punch. It was originally supposed to be me, Mike, Jessica, Angela, and Eric, but of course those plans fell apart. So now it’s going to be me, you, Mike, and Jacob.”
“Ew. I don’t want to spend the rest of my night around two guys. I barely even know Mike.” It had been a little bit since you last saw Jacob. The bikes were fixed, there was no reason for you to go there anymore. You couldn’t pin just how you felt about it. So, Mike was the easy excuse.
“I’ll be there.”
Running a hand over your face and then over your hair, you relented. “What time?”
“Thirty minutes.”
You groaned even more dramatically than you had initially. “I don’t even know if I’ll be awake and alert in thirty minutes.”
“I want you there.”
You stood up, lazily walking over to your closet, searching through it with tired arms. “I’m going, I’m going. Ugh, what’s the dress code?” You asked yourself more than anyone else as you leaned over, looking at what Bella was wearing. “Casual. Okay.”
“Maybe a little less than thirty minutes, actually, if we count the time it takes to get to the theater-”
“I’m moving as quick as my brain can possibly allow me to, okay?”
—
Twenty minutes later, you were sitting in the theater as your head began to ache. The seating arrangement wasn’t exactly discussed, and since the previews were already going, you rushed to sit down, which landed the seating as follows; Mike, Bella, Jacob, and then you. You, who had a man who chewed very loud and let his elbows invade your personal space sat on the other side of you.
“Hey, you wanna switch seats?”
You felt goosebumps raise in the wake of Jacob’s whisper. “Uh, no, it’s okay.”
That’s what you said anyway, but in all actuality, the man’s chewing began to reverberate through your skull alongside the sounds of gunfire in the movie, pushing the ache quicker.
“You have a migraine, don’t you?”
“I’m fine, Jacob.”
He moved around in his seat, digging in his pocket before pulling out a folded ziplock bag that had two small pills inside of it. “Here.”
“What, do you just walk around with pills in your pocket?”
“Yours, yeah. We had a deal, remember?”
“That deal kind of died the second the bikes were ready to go, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, well, I had spares and I figured you’d be coming, so I brought some just in case. That alright with you?”
You looked at him and then the pills before taking the bag from him. “Weirdly helpful.” You muttered, swallowing them down, courtesy of your slushie.
“Okay, I-I think I’m gonna throw up.”
You, Bella, and Jacob all watched as Mike rose up and hightailed out.
“Okay, we should…” You trailed off.
“Yeah.” Bella agreed, leading the three of you out of the room.
“What a marshmallow.” Jacob chuckled. “You should hold out for someone with a stronger stomach.”
You shot him a glance as he spoke to Bella. Your whole deal with him that even allowed him to consistently see her in the first place was that there was to be no weird romance or winggirl shit going on. Seemed like he was implying ‘someone’ as himself.
“Yeah, I’ll keep my eye open for that.”
Okay, so it wasn’t winggirl, it was straight up third wheeling. There you were, straggling off behind them as they basically flirted. It only got worse as Jacob grabbed Bella’s hand, which she pulled away. Sadistically, you had to admit the sight brought you some joy.
“What? I can’t hold your hand?”
He was moody sometimes, but it was noticeably worse tonight. What was his deal?
“No, of course you can. I just think it, you know, means something a little different to you, so…”
“Okay, well, tell me something. You like me, right?”
Your eyes darted to Bella’s face, to see her reaction. Was there something brewing that you’d missed, beyond the times he was playing mechanic on the bikes? Something more mutual than you originally perceived?
Bella nodded. Holy shit, she actually nodded.
“And you think I’m sort of beautiful?” Jacob continued to ask.
“Sorry, what? When did she say this?”
He looked between the two of you, taking Bella’s silence as his thumbs up to take on the elaborating. “When I was teaching her how to ride the bike, she crashed. Hit her head.”
“Okay, I know that part. I gave her some of my meds when she got home. What else?”
“She was bleeding, so I took my shirt off and pressed it to her wound. That’s when she said it.”
“That you’re ‘sort of beautiful’?”
“Yeah.”
You then looked at Bella, who avoided all eye contact with you as she kept her gaze glued to him.
“Jacob, please, don’t do this.” She pleaded quietly, sitting down on the stairs.
“Why?”
“Because you’re about to ruin everything. And…I need you.”
Now you felt sick, just like Mike.
“Well, I’ve got loads of time. I’m not gonna give up.”
You sighed as you watched him sit down beside her. He had managed to gain a little bit of your respect, to not irritate you so deeply just by name alone. You should’ve known that all could’ve been unraveled in a mere couple of sentences. “Are you guys serious right now?’
Bella said your name in the same pleading tone.
“No. Jacob, we had a deal, remember?” You shot his own words back at him.
His jaw clenched. “Yeah, I do. But there are some things you just can’t help.”
There was a feeling that settled in your stomach, like a feather slowly dancing until it plummets into the corrosive acid. This wasn’t just about Bella, was it? Were you jealous? Nope, nuh-uh, no, that cannot happen.
“Well…” Mike’s voice made you jump, appearing out of nowhere. “I need to go home.”
You glanced between the three of them, tensions obvious.
“I’m…I was feeling sick before the movie, okay?” Mike continued to defend himself. “What is your problem?”
“Right now? You’re my problem. Feeling sick? Maybe you need to go to the hospital.” Jacob stood up then. “You want me to put you in the hospital?”
Swallowing your pride and whatever else was obstructing your ability to speak, you said his name. “Calm down, please.”
“Jake! Jake, Jake, the movie’s over. What’re you doing?”
You felt your migraine intensify with the situation, meds not kicking in fast enough.
“You’re…really hot.” Bella noted aloud, having physically held him back. Even from where you stood, you swore you could feel the heat radiating off of him. “Like, you feel like you have a fever. Are you okay?’
Jacob softened, ever so slightly. “I don’t know what’s happening.” He heaved. “I gotta go.”
He brushed past you, feeling like a human radiator. The heat made your head throb, your heart pumping blood at a quicker rate that distributed pressure all throughout your skull.
“That dude is weird.”
You shot a look at Mike who cowered under the supervision. “You’re one to talk.”
Why were you defending him? He broke your deal and just threatened to put Mike in the hospital. None of this made sense, but you were stubborn.
slightly angst considering making a part two lmk :3
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The mattress dipped under Emmett’s weight the second he dropped beside her, the entire giant bed shifting with him. It made her laugh softly, even as his arm immediately hooked around her waist and tugged her against his chest like it was instinct.
“You’re warm,” he murmured, almost sounding fascinated by it.
His room was dark except for the faint light coming through the curtains, silver-blue against the walls. She was tucked beneath one of his hoodies, practically drowning in it, while Emmett laid sprawled across the bed he’d insisted on getting “for when you stay over.” Considering he was 6’5 and built like a grizzly bear, the bed had ended up absurdly huge.
Not that she minded.
Especially not when he looked at her like that.
“What?” she asked quietly.
Emmett only grinned — lazy and handsome. “Nothin’. Just like looking at you.”
She rolled her eyes, but he caught her chin before she could turn away completely, his massive hand gentle despite its size. That contrast always got to her — how someone so intimidating could touch her like she was fragile glass.
His mouth brushed hers once.
Twice.
Slow at first, teasing.
Then she kissed him back properly, and Emmett made this pleased little hum against her lips that vibrated straight through her chest.
One of his arms wrapped tighter around her waist while the other planted beside her head, caging her in without crushing her. She could feel how easily he could overpower her, but he never did. Every movement was careful, controlled, like he was constantly making sure she was comfortable.
“You have any idea,” he muttered between kisses, smiling against her mouth, “how hard it is not to hold you too tight?”
She laughed breathlessly. “You say that every time.”
“Because every time I mean it.”
He kissed her again — softer this time — and she melted into him completely, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. The bed felt impossibly warm despite the coldness of his skin, probably because Emmett somehow took up all the space around her. Big arms, broad chest, giant hands.
Human heater energy without the actual heat.
Eventually he just pulled her flush against him and flopped backward dramatically, taking her with him until she was half on top of his chest.
“There,” he said proudly. “Perfect.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet,” he replied, pressing another quick kiss to her forehead, “you’re still here.”
you huff as he adjusts again “emmett you don’t have to lay here.”
“i want to i’m just trying to find the perfect position.” he said laying you on your back and laying on-top of you his head in the crook of you neck.
“better?” you laughed running your hand through his hair.
“absolutely.” he hummed against your neck in between kisses moving one of his knees between your legs.
“mm this is nice.” you sigh as he sucks and nips on your neck gently.
then a knock
“fuck off.” emmett calls.
jasper walks in with edward “we need to hunt emmett.” he says in his southern accent.
“busy.” emmett huffs out.
“come on.” edward grabs him off you.
“go hunt we can finish when you get back when you up to it.” you say with a wink and a small grin
“hell yeah.” emmett leans down kissing you on last time “i’ll be back babe.”
A/N: get ready for a beefy chapter yall! This one was a long one but so fun to write. As always my DMs and ask box are open if you want to chat!!!
remember to shoot me a message if you want to be added to the taglist!
—-
Life in La Push passed you both slowly and quickly all at once. Your days were spent mostly with Emily, though Paul always managed to find an excuse to pop in throughout the day with or without Sam. Emily’s home seemed to operate as sort of a home base for the friend group, always filled with life and noise from someone.
Surprisingly your memory has been coming back to you in little flashes and bursts, mainly while you slept but occasionally you’ll blurt out a random fact from your life to the amusement of everyone around you. You’d yet to remember anything of particular importance, only little flashes of memories like graduating high school, getting your first pet, or visiting friends.
Part of you felt guilty for enjoying your newfound life so much, like you owed it to the family you left behind to be miserable until your memory returned. Thankfully Paul was good at chasing the negative feelings away. You felt like he somehow had a radar for when you were feeling down and would show up at the perfect moment with a little gift, a teasing quip, or an adventure to drag you on. Your favorite had to be the little dish of paper stars that you were collecting on your kitchen table. Most of them were made from old receipts, wrappers, or stray scraps but some were made of sturdy cardstock or brightly colored strips of paper. The first time he’d brought you one Paul had almost been bashful, dropping it into your hand and brushing off how sweet the notion had been.
The girls had taken to teasing you over your crush on Paul. Gentle ribs and jokes falling from their mouths anytime they caught you fawning over the man that had saved your life. You prayed that it was all out of Paul’s earshot, though you doubted you were doing a good job of hiding it yourself. A well timed grin from the man sent you into a giddy spiral of flushed cheeks and a hammering heart.
A month or so into your stay found you and Jared trekking through the woods, a backpack on his shoulders and a map clutched in your grasp. He’d hardly even glanced at it, insisting he knew his way around the woods better than anyone that had made the map. You’d read an article on retracing your metaphorical steps as a tool in recovering memories, and Jared had drawn the short stick in accompanying you.
“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” You’re hesitant to ask, looking down at the map only makes you more confused but the further you walk the further you’re sure you’ll be lost forever. You’d been walking for nearly an hour now and all you could tell for sure was that you were steadily climbing uphill.
“Are you doubting my skills Sunny?” He turns around to face you, his lips breaking into a wide grin as you roll your eyes.
“I just don’t understand how anybody knows where they’re going in all of this green.” You nudge a patch of moss with your shoe only slightly miserable at the fact that all this walk has done was remind you of just how wet Washington weather could be.
“If I told you I'd end up having to kill you.” Jared winks, pulling back a stray clump of branches to reveal a tiny clearing filled with a few large rocks and squishy moss.
You’re in the middle of rolling your eyes, inhaling to retort something just as smart back at him when a blur of red streaks through the corner of your vision. You lurch backwards on instinct, tripping over a tree root and tumbling to the ground. The blur stops moving revealing it to be a woman. She’s tall and lean and impossibly pale, eyes set in a vicious glare, and horrifyingly enough her eyes are bright red. Every cell in your body screams that this woman is dangerous, is wrong.
Before you even have a chance to scream for him Jared is suddenly behind the woman, shaking from every inch of his body. He explodes and right where he had stood now stands a great wolf, larger than any animal you’d ever seen in your life. The wolf snarls and lunges for the woman and they begin to move around the small clearing in a never ending blur.
You’re screaming before you realize it, the shock of the situation finally catching up to you. It takes a minute to find the strength, but you’re almost on your feet when two more dark blurs come streaking through the trees on either side of you.
Your heart plummets to your stomach fearing more people have come to hurt you and what was once Jared, but instead it turns out to be two more of the massive wolves. The black one is the biggest of all three, lunging into the fight without hesitation while the second, a dark silvery grey color, lurks on the outside. It takes a moment for you to realize it but it seems to be protecting you, snarling and snapping its jaw like it wants more than anything to join the fight, but keeps at a distance.
Every time the fight tries to drift towards you the wolf takes a few more steps back, never turning its back on the action entirely but keeping an eye out for where you’re cowering against the base of a large tree. The woman makes a desperate lunge for the fringes of the fight, blurring underneath the twisting forms of the wolves and makes a break for the treeline once more. The two wolves follow immediately, though the one that had been shielding you follows them to the edge of the clearing before doubling back for you.
Your breath comes in shallow pants, and you press yourself as close to the rough bark of the tree that you can. The wolf stops a few paces away from you, lowering itself onto its belly as it sniffs cautiously at the air.
“Please don’t hurt me.” You beg, your throat growing tight with panic. You know crying won’t help anything, but you can’t help the hot tears that begin to streak down your face. The wolf lets out a rumbly whine standing from its crouch with a little shake of its head. It lopes off into the treeline next to you, disappearing from sight before you have the chance to see where it went.
You’re alone for only a moment, just the sound of your ragged breath filling the gloomy clearing until the brush begins to rustle again.
“Paul?” You gasp, mind reeling at seeing him coming through the brush. His shirt is missing and he’s clad in only a pair of shorts that look like they might have been pants once upon a time.
He reaches you almost immediately, crouching in front of your trembling form. His eyebrows pinch in the middle and he looks conflicted for a moment before he reaches out to you. You launch yourself into his hold, desperate for a shred of the safety that he usually fills you up with, the dam on your emotions breaking once he’s got you in his firm grip.
”Hey sunshine, you’re okay I promise.” He’s rocking you back and forth slowly, one hand cupping the back of your head where your face is buried in his neck and the other drags slow lines up your back. “I’ve got you, nothing’s gonna hurt you I promise.”
”I don’t know what’s happening.” You whimper, unable to care that you’re practically in his lap by now. “Paul, I’m scared.”
”You’re gonna be okay, she’s gone. Sam and Jared aren’t going to let her get to you.” His lips graze your forehead leaving a trail of warmth on your clammy skin.
“Sam and Jared?” You repeat back at him still not comprehending how he and your two friends just became giant wolves.
“Yeah baby, they’re taking care of it. Are you okay? Did you get hurt anywhere?” He tries to pull back from you a little to make sure you’re physically okay, but you double down on your grip around him desperate not to lose the contact. “Okay, I’m not going anywhere. That’s fine, just talk to me sunshine.”
“‘M okay.” You croak, not caring that your palms may be a little scraped up from the fall. “Just stay.”
“I’d never leave you.” He soothes, pressing another kiss to your head. “We need to get you out of the woods and get your hands cleaned up.”
“How did you know?” You finally pull back enough to stare up at him. He’s already watching you, brushing tear tracks off your cheeks with the gentlest touch.
“I smelled the blood.” He answers as if it was obvious, prompting you to roll your eyes at him.
”What was that Paul? I need to know.” You press as he helps you to your feet finally, needing answers to the events of the afternoon. “I mean, you and Sam and Jared can, what? Turn into wolves? Do you know how insane that is? And, and that woman. She was so quick, and she just came out of nowhere. She was trying to hurt Jared, to hurt us. Oh my god she’s trying to hurt us we have to make sure they’re okay, she could kill them. Paul! We have to-“
Your panicked tirade is cut off by Paul gripping the front of your coat and dragging you close enough for him to crush his lips onto yours. The kiss is far from tender and sweet and everything you’d been dreaming of when thinking of your first kiss with Paul. It’s dominance and reckless and everything that Paul pretends he isn’t when he’s around you, but deep down you know they’re the actions that make up who he is fundamentally. It’s insane and surprising and wholly wrong given the circumstances but it feels completely right. When Paul finally pulls away you’re sat staring up at him in wide eyed shock.
“Remind me how effective that is the next time I need you to stop talking.” A cocky smirk graces his lips as he tugs you towards the treeline.
Your knees feel like jelly and the first step you try to take threatens to send you crashing back to the ground. Paul catches you before you have the chance to fall, sweeping you into his arms with ease.
“You just kissed me.” You feel like you might be going into shock, all the revelations of the day making your head swirl.
”I can do it again if it’ll help you form a coherent thought.” Paul laughs. “Will you be okay with me taking you back to Em’s? I think I probably owe you a really big explanation.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Your response is immediate, confused that he would even be asking.
“Well a man you’ve only known for a few months just turned into a wolf in front of you with his friends to save you from becoming a leech’s snack. That’s enough to send someone off the brink. Factor in the best kiss of your life and who knows-“
“How do you know that was the best kiss of my life?” You cut him off, cheeks burning bright when he levels you with a flat look.
“Let me have this please.” You can tell that he’s starting to relax, that your lack of fear towards him is easing something deep down in him.
You're content to let him carry you through the forest, only offering once to walk and subsequently having to apologize for questioning his strength. What took you and Jared nearly an hour to get through takes Paul only half of that. Soon you’re breaking through the treeline a few feet away from the little lot Jared’s truck was parked in. He eases you into the passenger seat and flashes you an award winning smile which you can’t help but return fondly.
The drive to Emily’s is quiet, Paul allowing you the few minutes it takes to start to process everything that happened. She’s on the front porch when the truck pulls into the drive, watering the many plants she has in multicolored pots. Emily only looks a little surprised to see Paul getting out with you instead of Jared, but her eyes immediately widen when she sees your muddy clothes and the dried blood on your hands.
“What happened out there?” She gasps, setting down the watering can to open the front door and usher you both inside.
“Cats out of the bag Em, come on sunshine there should be a first aid kit around here somewhere.” Paul steers you to sit in one of the wooden chairs at the small circular dinner table.
“Shouldn’t you say wolf?” Your joke is lame but it earns you a brief smile from Paul and seems to chip away at some of the tension in him.
“You’re taking this pretty well Sunny.” Emily muses, depositing the first aid kit on the table next to you.
“Well a vampire just tried to kill me and then I watched half the people I know turn into really big wolves. I kind of feel crazy.” You hiss when Paul dabs your scrapes with antiseptic soaked gauze.
“Sorry, sorry. Think she’s going into shock?” He ignores your huffed protest in favor of cleaning up your other hand.
“Give our girl some credit,” she smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’ll get you a blanket though as soon as he’s finished fussing over you.”
You want to brush off their concern, to reassure them you’re fine, but part of you does feel a little shellshocked and shaky still. Inherently you know you’re no less safer with them now than you were this morning, but your nervous system doesn’t want to realize it. It’s left your head aching and your hands a little shaky, though Paul is doing a good job of steadying them in his own.
Neither Paul or Emily quit hovering around you until your hands are bandaged, your clothes are changed, and you’ve got a blanket draped over your shoulders. Paul sits next to you on the couch, the small TV playing a rerun of the midday news though nobody is paying it any attention. Your head is tipped against his arm, soaking in his warmth and the anchoring security he brings.
“Is this a wolf thing too?” You whisper eventually, suspecting his hearing is far better than the average human's. “The warmth?”
“Yeah, one hundred nine degrees if you want to get technical. Better eyesight, hearing, reflexes. You name it we probably have it. Heal fast too.” He lists his attributes as if it’s as simple as his favorite color or hobbies.
“Is that why you’re nineteen but look like you’re almost thirty?” A weak laugh bubbles out of you at the way he gently thumps your forehead in retaliation for that comment.
“We prefer mid twenties actually, but yes. As far as legends say we don’t age as long as we’re phasing. And we phase as long as we feel the need to protect you humans from vampires.” His arm shifts and your head thunks against his chest instead, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to hold you closer.
“Is she, the only one? Or are there more?” You ask, suddenly curious to know if there’s people you’ve walked right past and not known what they were.
“There was a large coven that stayed in the area until recently. The doctor from the hospital, Dr. Cullen. His family, though they’ve left the area it seems they’ve left some stragglers behind. So far it’s just Sam, Jared, and I but the elders think that Embry or Jacob are going to be next. At least they will be if we can’t run out the leeches first.”
“Isn’t that a little counterintuitive? Being a vampire but being a doctor as well?” You’re amused by the idea, though slightly disturbed at the fact that the man that had been in charge of your care in the hospital could have easily killed you.
“Ironic maybe.” Paul agrees, squishing you a bit closer to him. “Any more questions for me?”
“Does the whole reservation know?” Surely not or there’d be a lot more talk about the ‘Uley Gang’ you’d heard someone refer to the boys as.
“No. Just the elders, you, Em, and Kim. You can’t tell anyone okay? It’s got to be a secret.” He sounds far more serious than you’ve ever heard him sound in the past and you straighten up a bit subconsciously.
“Promise.” You swear, feeling both touched and nervous to be in the know on such a huge secret. “Are you only allowed to tell me because I saw it happen? I’m surprised nobody’s trying to gaslight me into thinking it was a bear or something.”
Paul goes suddenly tense as if he himself is nervous. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when the door flies open and Jared and Sam come pushing through. He’s on his feet in an instant, hands balling into tight fists as he locks in on Jared. There’s no time for warnings or anything before Paul is right up in Jared’s face all but snarling at the slightly shorter boy.
“What the hell man!” Jared yelps, trying to take a step back from Paul but he isn’t allowing it.
“You had one job Jared. One job to keep her safe and you let a damn leech almost get her?” You go to stand as Jared starts to defend himself, hellbent on coming to his aid and insisting that you’re fine thank you very much, but Sam’s hands land firmly on your shoulders and steer you further away from the pair.
“Stay back Sunny, it’s not safe to get between them when they’re like this.” He deposits you with Emily and turns back to the boys, heaving a heavy sigh when he sees Paul lunge for Jared.
Emily laces your fingers together, making sure to keep the both of you out of the way as Sam delves into the fight. He’s trying to corral them to the back entrance, into the privacy of the back yard for them to hash the fight out with little luck.
“Listen I know she’s your imprint and all but chill bro! She didn’t even get hurt!” You can see Jared growing angry as well, retaliating with every shove and blow Paul tries to land. Paul snarls something back at Jared but you can’t quite understand it before Sam shoves them out the door with one final barked order.
You stand shellshocked for a moment, beyond surprised at what just unfurled in front of you. Gone was the sweet, charming, and gentle man you’d grown accustomed to. A loud snarl followed by the ripping sound of cloth had you flying to the closest window and watching as Paul and Jared tumbled into the forest to continue their disagreement.
“Are they going to be okay?” You gasp, whirling back around to face Emily, stomach twisting uneasily at the fact that you were the cause of their disagreement.
“More than. This used to happen a lot in the early days. Paul’s always had a bit of a temper, quick to anger and all that. It’s gotten better since you’ve come around, but Rome wasn’t built in a day.” Emily’s still frowning out the window at the scene, but true to her word she doesn’t look concerned in the slightest.
“What did Jared mean? When he called me Paul’s imprint, what does that mean?” The way Emily’s face twists with hesitation makes your stomach drop to your feet. Surely whatever that meant it can’t be good.
“That’s a conversation that you’re going to have to have with Paul, Sunny. It’s really not my place to tell you, but I promise it’s nothing bad. The opposite really, you’ll see. Just promise you’ll hear him out?” You’re reluctant to agree but there’s a feeling in your gut that tells you it’s going to turn out okay. Surely if Paul’s involved it’ll be okay. Right?
(Twilight what I would wear if i were Bella's older sister)
The first in my Jacob x OC fic based on the tiktok trend from a little bit ago where you make outfits and write a little blurb on that outfit. We're going to speed run the first movie and then go on to the second one so we can move onto him as a wolf. Bella and Jacob are 18 in their senior year of high school in the bulk of this story and OC is 20 because of being held back as a kid for plot reasons.
~Description: Being Bella Swan’s older sister was never supposed to change anything. Not with Charlie. Not with school. And definitely not with Jacob Black. But suddenly, Bella is everywhere. In the halls at school. In Charlie’s life. In Jacob’s conversations. And no matter how hard you try to pretend it doesn’t bother you, you can feel things shifting underneath your feet. Jacob starts keeping secrets. Bella starts falling in love. And you start realizing that maybe the worst kind of heartbreak isn't losing someone completely. Maybe it's standing right beside them while they slowly choose someone else. Or maybe you're just dramatic. Probably both.
Bella has been, for lack of a better word, cagey lately.
More than usual. Which is saying something because Bella Swan has always treated conversations like she's being interrogated by the FBI.
Ever since she started dating Edward, she spends practically all of her time with him. Which would be fine. Honestly. I know couples are annoying. I know teenagers in love are somehow even worse. If she wants to spend every waking second staring dreamily into Edward Cullen's weird golden eyes, that's her business.
The problem is she keeps coming home hurt.
At first it was little things. Scrapes. Bruises she couldn't explain. Dirt on her clothes. She'd brush it off with some vague excuse and I'd let it go because Bella has always been accident-prone. The girl can trip standing still.
But lately?
Lately it's getting ridiculous.
Tonight is the final straw.
The front door opens sometime after dark while I'm sprawled across the couch pretending to watch TV. Charlie's asleep in his chair already, the television casting flickering blue light across the living room while rain taps steadily against the windows.
I glance up automatically when Bella walks inside.
Then I sit bolt upright.
"What the hell happened to your arm?"
Bella freezes immediately.
A massive gash runs down the length of her forearm, partially hidden beneath her jacket sleeve. The fabric is stained dark around the edges. Not enough blood to be actively dangerous but enough to make my stomach twist.
Bella immediately pulls the sleeve down farther.
"Nothing."
I stare at her.
"Nothing?"
"It's fine."
"Bella."
She sighs heavily like I'm being unreasonable here.
"I'm okay."
I stand up so fast the blanket slides off my lap. "That is a giant gash on your arm."
"I'm fine."
"You are actively bleeding."
"I'm not actively bleeding."
I point aggressively at her arm. "You literally are!"
Bella glances down.
"...Barely."
I make a strangled noise.
Sometimes I genuinely think Bella was built in a lab specifically to test my patience.
She starts trying to move past me toward the stairs and I step directly into her path.
"No."
"Kylie."
"No. Sit down."
"I'm tired."
"Sit."
Bella rolls her eyes but eventually drops onto the couch with all the enthusiasm of someone heading to their execution.
I disappear into the bathroom and return with the first aid kit a minute later.
The second I sit beside her she immediately tries to pull away.
"Stop being dramatic."
"I'm not dramatic."
I give her a look.
Bella has the decency to look slightly embarrassed. The cut looks even worse up close. Angry and red against her pale skin. Not deep enough for stitches, probably, but definitely deep enough that I want to punch someone.
Specifically Edward Cullen.
"Where did this come from?" I ask while cleaning it carefully.
Bella stares at the wall.
"Bella."
Silence.
"Bella."
"I'm fine."
I nearly throw the antiseptic across the room.
"That is not an answer!"
She finally looks at me then. Her expression softens slightly.
"I know."
"Then answer the question."
"I can't."
My jaw clenenches immediately.
There it is.
The thing that's been driving me insane for months now.
The secrets.
The half answers.
The weird looks shared between Bella and Edward whenever someone asks a normal question.
I finish wrapping her arm in silence, irritation simmering beneath my skin.
Because today wasn't just any day.
It was her birthday.
Her eighteenth birthday.
Charlie spent all week trying to pretend he wasn't emotional about it. He bought her gifts. We got a cake. I spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to figure out what to get her because despite everything she's become one of my favorite people.
And she chose to spend the entire day with Edward.
Which, okay. Fine. Whatever. That's what people do when they're in love.
But she came home injured.
Again.
The second I finish tying the bandage I sit back and cross my arms.
"Next time I see Edward I'm throwing a fit."
Bella groans immediately.
"Ky."
"No. I'm serious."
"You can't throw a fit at my boyfriend."
"I absolutely can."
"You absolutely can't."
"I am your older sister. It's literally my job."
Bella actually laughs a little at that.
I point at her arm dramatically. "Look at this!"
"I'm looking at it."
"You're lucky I'm looking at it because apparently you weren't."
Bella shakes her head, smiling despite herself.
For a second things feel normal.
Then her smile fades slightly.
And I realize she's hiding something again.
Something big.
Something that keeps following her home in the form of bruises and cuts and mysterious explanations.
I look down at the fresh bandage wrapped around her arm.
The irritation is still there.
The worry is bigger.
Because as much as Edward Cullen drives me insane, as much as I don't understand whatever weird thing is happening between them, Bella has become my person these last few months.
Jacob is gone.
Bella stayed.
And if someone keeps sending my sister home injured, eventually I'm going to stop asking nicely.
✧─────────────────────✧
For a girl who I would have never considered my sister before now, I have grown really close to her.
Like really close.
Somewhere between movie nights and late-night drives and me bandaging mysterious injuries she refuses to explain, Bella became family. Not because we're related. Not because Charlie wants us to be.
Because she chose me.
And I chose her.
Which means I'm the first to notice when something is wrong.
Today at school the Cullen table is empty.
That's pretty routine. It's sunny outside, which means none of the Cullens showed up. They have this weird habit of disappearing whenever the weather gets nice, which should probably be more suspicious than everyone treats it. Instead people just shrug and move on with their lives.
Forks is weird like that.
The cafeteria is louder than usual today. Sunlight pours through the windows in a way that almost feels unnatural after months of rain, catching against tabletops and making everyone seem more awake than normal.
Bella and I sit together at lunch like we always do now.
At some point that became our thing.
I don't even remember when it happened.
One day she was the awkward girl Charlie brought home and the next she was stealing fries off my tray while complaining about biology.
She's picking at her food absentmindedly when I notice it. Not the empty Cullen table. Her. The way she's looking at it. I follow her gaze automatically.
The table sits abandoned near the windows, untouched except for the sunlight stretching across the surface. Normally Bella would glance over every now and then when Edward wasn't here. Maybe smile at some text message. Maybe stare into space dramatically while thinking about him.
Today is different. Today she keeps looking. Like she's waiting for something. Or someone. My stomach twists slightly.
"Bella."
No response.
She's still staring.
"Bella."
"Hm?"
"There are no Cullens over there."
That finally gets her attention. She blinks and turns toward me.
"What?"
"You've looked at that empty table like fifteen times."
"I have not."
"You absolutely have."
Bella rolls her eyes immediately but there's no real annoyance behind it. I narrow mine. Something's wrong. I can feel it. Not because she's saying anything. Bella rarely says anything when something's bothering her. But because I know her now. I know the difference between her normal awkwardness and whatever this is.
This is worry.
The kind she tries to hide.
"Did you and Edward fight?" I ask.
"No."
Too fast.
"That wasn't suspicious at all."
Bella sighs heavily.
"We didn't fight."
"But?"
"No but."
I stare at her.
She stares back.
Then immediately looks away first.
Aha.
"There is a but."
Bella groans and drops her forehead onto the table dramatically.
I smile despite myself.
"Talk to me."
"It's nothing."
I snort.
"You know that's the exact phrase people use when it's definitely something."
Bella lifts her head slightly and fiddles with the edge of a napkin.
For a moment I think she might actually tell me.
Instead she shakes her head.
I hate when she does that.
The whole Cullen family has infected her with their weird secretive nonsense.
"Fine," I say eventually. "Keep your secrets."
Bella smiles faintly at that but it doesn't reach her eyes.
And that's what really worries me. Because Bella has spent months looking happier than I've ever seen her. Even with all the injuries. Even with all the weirdness. Whenever Edward's around there's usually this softness to her. This certainty. Today she looks scared. The bell eventually rings and we gather our things. Bella is quieter than usual walking through the hallways. Her shoulders are tense. Her gaze keeps drifting toward the parking lot windows every time we pass one.
Like she's expecting something. Or dreading it. By the end of the day I've convinced myself I'm imagining things. Maybe she's just tired. Maybe she's stressed.
Maybe I'm becoming overprotective.
✧─────────────────────✧
I'm inside watching TV, Charlie once again asleep on the couch.
Honestly, I spend a lot of nights with Charlie now that I'm not talking to Jacob.
At first it happened accidentally. I'd come downstairs because I couldn't sleep and find Charlie halfway through some terrible cop show, and eventually I'd just sit down and watch it with him. Now it's become routine. Dinner. TV. Charlie falling asleep before the episode ends. Me pretending not to notice.
It makes him happy.
Which makes me a little less sad.
I don't understand how Jacob has managed to stay away for so long.
That's the part that gets me.
I miss him every day. Every single day. There are moments where I still grab my phone to text him before remembering we're not talking. Sometimes I'll hear a motorcycle and my heart jumps before my brain catches up.
But Jacob? Apparently he's fine. Apparently he's perfectly capable of pretending I don't exist.
The thought still stings.
A laugh track from the TV fills the room while rain taps softly against the windows. Charlie snores lightly beside me, one arm hanging off the couch while his head tilts at an angle that's definitely going to hurt tomorrow.
I snap a picture of him because blackmail is important.
Then the phone rings.
Charlie jerks awake so violently I burst out laughing.
"What?" he grumbles immediately, reaching for the phone with all the grace of a hibernating bear being poked awake.
I grin. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."
He ignores me completely and answers the call.
"Hello?"
I turn back toward the TV, only half listening. Charlie gets calls all the time. Usually work-related. Or Billy. Or somebody needing help with something.
Then Charlie sits up straighter.
His entire expression changes.
"Where?"
I glance over.
Charlie is fully awake now.
"...We're on our way."
My stomach immediately drops.
He hangs up and is already moving before I can ask a question.
"Charlie?"
"Stay here."
That's never reassuring.
"Charlie."
He doesn't answer, already heading for the front door.
The door slams behind him.
I stare after him for a second before muting the TV.
The house suddenly feels too quiet.
Ten minutes pass.
Then fifteen.
I spend the entire time anxiously pacing the living room.
Because nobody says stay here before leaving unless something is wrong.
The front door suddenly bursts open.
And Charlie comes barreling inside.
Carrying Bella.
Fully unconscious Bella.
My heart stops.
"WHAT HAPPENED?"
Charlie barely looks at me.
"I don't know."
Which somehow makes everything worse.
Bella hangs limply in his arms, her dark hair falling across her face while Charlie rushes toward the couch. She's pale. Too pale.
My hands immediately start shaking.
"Charlie what do you mean you don't know!?!??"
I've never seen Charlie this panicked before.
He lowers Bella carefully onto the couch while I drop to my knees beside her.
"Bella?"
Nothing.
"Bella."
I gently shake her shoulder.
Nothing.
My chest tightens painfully.
Then movement outside catches my eye. I glance toward the still-open front door. A figure is walking away down the driveway.
Tall. Broad shoulders.
Shirtless. Sam Uley.
I blink.
What.
The.
Hell.
Sam disappears into the darkness before I can process why he's here. Or why he's shirtless. Or why he apparently delivered my unconscious sister to our house.
I slowly turn back toward Bella.
"What is happening with her?"
Charlie doesn't answer because Charlie clearly has absolutely no idea either.
Bella groans softly then, finally stirring slightly. Relief crashes through me so hard I nearly fall over.
"Oh thank God."
Her eyes flutter but don't fully open.
Charlie kneels beside us immediately. "Bella?"
She mumbles something unintelligible.
"Kid you're scaring the hell out of us."
I sit back slightly, trying to calm my racing heart.
Because seriously.
What is happening with her lately?
First Edward disappears and Bella spends months acting like she's been personally cursed by the universe. Then she starts getting hurt constantly. Then she starts sneaking around. Then she starts hanging out with Jacob's increasingly weird friends.
And now she's being delivered unconscious by a shirtless Sam Uley.
A shirtless Sam Uley. At night. To my house.
My life has become absurd.
Bella shifts slightly on the couch and Charlie immediately fusses over her again.
I cross my arms and stare at the ceiling.
I know this has something to do with Edward.
Maybe not directly.
But every weird thing that's happened in the last year somehow traces back to Edward Cullen.
The teen angst radius around that man should honestly be studied by scientists.
Because somehow my sister has gone from awkward honors student to mysterious unconscious girl being carried into the house by shirtless tribal members.
And nobody will tell me why.
At this point I'm about three bad days away from kidnapping both Bella and Jacob and locking them in Charlie's living room until they start explaining things.
Because whatever secret everyone is keeping?
It's officially getting on my nerves.
✧─────────────────────✧
Bella isn't speaking.
To anyone.
Not Charlie. Not me. Not her friends. Nobody.
The house feels haunted lately.
Charlie walks around with this constant worried crease between his eyebrows while pretending everything is normal. I keep finding him standing outside Bella's bedroom door like he's trying to decide whether or not to knock.
He always walks away eventually.
And Bella just...exists.
That's the only word I can think of for it.
She's here physically. She comes downstairs sometimes. She eats when Charlie practically forces her to. She goes through the motions.
But it's like the actual Bella left months ago and forgot to take her body with her.
The worst part is nobody knows how to help.
Not Charlie.
Not me.
Definitely not her friends.
Though somehow her friends have become my friends now.
I don't know when that happened.
Maybe because somebody had to keep showing up when Bella stopped. Maybe because Jessica refuses to take no for an answer. Maybe because Angela is genuinely one of the sweetest people on the planet.
Whatever the reason, they're waiting for me downstairs tonight. Another movie. Another attempt at pretending we're normal teenagers.
I'm pulling on my shoes when I glance down at the oversized jacket hanging off my shoulders.
Jacob's jacket. I'm wearing Jacob's jacket.
Not because I miss him. Absolutely not.
Definitely not because it still smells vaguely like motor oil, wet earth, and cedar and whatever detergent Billy uses.
Definitely not because sometimes I pull the sleeves over my hands and it feels like being hugged.
Nope.
It's warm.
That's it.
Just warm.
I stare at myself in the mirror.
"...You're pathetic."
The mirror offers no defense.
With a groan I head upstairs toward Bella's room before leaving.
The door is already open.
My chest immediately tightens.
Bella sits exactly where she always sits now.
Beside the window.
Watching the rain.
The gray light filtering through the glass makes her look almost ghostlike. Her skin is pale and damp, dark circles carved beneath her eyes. She's lost weight too. Enough that her sweaters hang loosely from her frame.
The sight of her still catches me off guard every time.
Because this isn't Bella.
Not really.
Bella used to laugh at my terrible jokes.
Bella used to steal fries off my plate.
Now she just stares out windows.
"Bells?"
Nothing.
I step farther into the room.
"Your fan club is here."
No reaction.
"Jessica threatened to drag me out of the house by force if I canceled again."
Nothing.
I sit down carefully beside her bed.
The silence stretches.
Outside rain taps softly against the glass.
Bella doesn't even blink.
My throat tightens painfully.
"Come with us."
Nothing.
I force a smile anyway.
"Seriously. Angela's coming."
Silence.
"Mike too."
Nothing.
"Actually never mind that probably made it worse."
For a second I almost think I see the corner of her mouth twitch.
Almost.
I lean forward slightly.
"A distraction would make you feel better."
Still nothing.
Not even a head shake.
Not even a look in my direction.
Just empty silence.
The kind that makes my chest ache.
Because Bella's not ignoring me.
That would be easier.
She's just...gone somewhere I can't reach.
And no matter how hard I try, I can't follow her there.
I swallow hard.
"Charlie misses you."
Nothing.
"I miss you."
The words come out quieter than I intended.
Bella's fingers tighten slightly against the blanket in her lap.
That's it.
That's all I get.
A tiny movement.
But at least it's something.
I stare at her for a long moment.
Then I do the only thing I can think of.
I stand up.
Walk over.
And wrap my arms around her.
At first she doesn't react.
For one awful second I think she might not hug me back at all.
Then slowly, weakly, her arms lift.
Barely.
But enough.
I bury my face against her shoulder and squeeze tighter.
"Come back okay?" I whisper. "Whenever you're ready."
My eyes sting.
I hate that.
I hate feeling helpless.
I hate watching people I love hurt when I can't fix it.
Jacob.
Bella.
Maybe that's the real problem.
Maybe everyone I love keeps disappearing.
Eventually I pull away.
Bella still hasn't said a word.
But for the first time all week she isn't staring out the window anymore.
She's looking at me.
It's only for a second.
But it's enough.
I force a smile.
"I'll bring you popcorn if you decide to rejoin society."
Nothing.
But her eyes soften slightly.
And somehow that feels like a victory.
So I leave.
Pulling Jacob's jacket tighter around myself as I head downstairs.
The smell of cedar follows me the whole way.
And for the first time in a while, I realize Bella and I are grieving the same thing.
We're just grieving different people in different ways.
✧─────────────────────✧
It's Jacob.
He's actually here.
Standing right in front of me.
For a second I genuinely think I'm imagining him. That maybe I've finally lost it after months of missing him.
But no.
There he is.
His bike is parked beside him, one hip leaning casually against it. His helmet rests beneath one hand where he's keeping it balanced on the seat. The afternoon light filters through the clouds overhead, catching against his skin while the familiar shape of him punches all the air from my lungs.
I haven't seen him this close in months.
Not really.
Not since everything fell apart.
For a moment neither of us speaks.
His hair is longer now. He's taller too somehow.
Or maybe I just forgot what it felt like standing this close to him. Then his eyes find mine.
And suddenly I remember exactly why this hurts so much. Because Jacob has always looked at me like that.
Like I'm important.
Like I'm worth looking at.
Like he can see straight through every stupid defense I try to throw up.
His eyes practically beg me to talk to him.
To look at him.
To see him.
Well it's too fucking late for that.
I have plans.
With a boy.
A boy whose name I definitely know.
Absolutely.
One hundred percent.
The longer I stare into Jacob's eyes, however, the harder it becomes to remember it.
Was it...
No.
I had it earlier.
Definitely.
Jacob pushes off his bike.
My stomach immediately drops.
He's walking toward me.
Oh no.
No no no.
I react like a deer in headlights.
Completely frozen.
And Jacob, being the opportunistic menace that he is, immediately takes advantage of that.
He wraps his arms around me.
Oh.My.God.
The second he touches me every ounce of anger I've been carrying around gets shoved violently to the side.
Because I've missed this.
I've missed him. I've missed the way his arms feel around me.
The way he always wraps himself around me completely like he's trying to shield me from the entire world.
I've missed how warm he is.
How safe he feels.
My body relaxes before my pride can stop it.
I hate that.
I hate how easy it is.
My face presses against his chest and suddenly my eyes start burning.
No.
Absolutely not.
I am not crying.
I am definitely not crying over Jacob Black.
His arms tighten slightly.
"Hey," he murmurs softly.
And somehow that's worse.
Because his voice sounds relieved.
Like he missed me too.
The tears come anyway.
Traitors.
I bury my face harder into his shirt.
Neither of us says anything for a second.
I can hear his heartbeat.
Strong. Steady. Familiar.
God I've missed him.
Eventually he pulls back just enough to look down at me. His hands stay on my shoulders.
"Come with me."
I blink.
"What?"
"Hop on the bike."
That's it.
No explanation. No details. Just that.
Typical Jacob.
I should say no. I absolutely should. I have plans. Somewhere. With someone.
Probably.
Instead I find myself staring at him for another second before nodding. Because maybe I'm weak. Or maybe I just want an excuse to hold onto him a little longer.
Probably both.
A few minutes later my arms are wrapped tightly around his waist while his motorcycle rumbles beneath us. The second we pull away I squeeze a little tighter than necessary.
Jacob doesn't comment on it.
The ride is quiet. Not awkward. Just quiet.
The kind of silence that only exists between people who've known each other forever.
The forest blurs around us in shades of green and gray.
Towering trees stretch overhead while sunlight slips through the branches in fractured beams. The smell of damp earth and cedar fills the air.
Birds call somewhere above us. A river rushes nearby. The world feels strangely peaceful.
Like it did before.
I rest my forehead lightly against Jacob's back. For the first time in months I don't feel lonely.
I swear I'm supposed to be somewhere right now. Someone's expecting me. But every time I try to remember, my brain immediately decides it's not important.
Eventually the bike slows.
Jacob turns into the familiar driveway beside Billy's house.
My stomach twists unexpectedly.
Because this used to be home.
The garage door is already open.
Jacob parks the bike.
I climb off.
And immediately forget how breathing works.
"Oh."
The word escapes me before I can stop it.
There, sitting in the middle of the garage, is the most beautiful car body I've ever seen.
I walk toward it automatically.
Slowly.
Like if I move too fast it'll disappear.
A 1964 Chevrolet El Camino.
My heart nearly stops.
She's gorgeous.
Not perfect.
Not even close.
The paint is rough.
The body needs work.
The interior is practically nonexistent.
But none of that matters.
Because underneath all of it?
She's a dream.
I circle around it once.
Then again.
Running my fingertips lightly across the metal.
"Jacob..."
My voice comes out almost breathless.
He shoves his hands into his pockets awkwardly.
Something he only does when he's nervous.
Which immediately gets my attention.
"I've been working on it."
I look up.
His eyes stay fixed on the car.
Not me.
"I know I screwed up."
The words come out quietly.
Honest.
Painfully honest.
"I know I hurt you."
My chest tightens.
Jacob swallows.
"I wanted to explain everything."
"You didn't."
"I know."
"You disappeared."
"I know."
I hate how quickly the hurt comes back.
How easy it is.
"You let me think you didn't care."
His jaw tightens.
"I cared."
"Could've fooled me."
Silence.
The garage suddenly feels smaller.
Jacob takes a slow breath.
Then finally looks at me.
"I've been working on this for you."
My eyes flick back toward the El Camino.
Then back to him.
"I wanted us to work on it together."
The sincerity in his voice almost breaks me. Almost. Because months of hurt don't vanish that easily. No matter how much I want them to.
I look away first.
"I can't forgive you yet."
The words hurt.
Mostly because I can see they hurt him too.
But they're true.
Jacob nods slowly.
"Okay."
No argument.
No excuses.
Just acceptance.
Which somehow makes it worse.
A few seconds pass.
Then he steps closer.
Carefully.
Like he's afraid I'll run.
His hand disappears into his pocket.
And when it comes back out my heart immediately stops.
The bracelet.
The one he made me.
The one I threw at him.
The one I haven't stopped thinking about since the second it left my hand.
Jacob takes my hands gently.
The familiar metal settles into my palms.
Cold.
Solid.
Real.
For a second neither of us speaks.
"At least take this."
His voice is barely above a whisper.
I stare down at it. The tiny charms. The amber flower. The star. The infinity engraving. Every piece of our childhood sitting in my hands.
Waiting.
My throat tightens painfully. Because putting it back on feels like forgiveness. And I'm not ready for that.
Not yet.
But giving it back feels impossible too.
So I stand there holding it while Jacob watches me quietly.
And for the first time since he came back, neither of us knows what happens next.
✧─────────────────────✧
Okay.
It didn't take that long.
I forgave him.
Not immediately. I'm not that pathetic.
I made him suffer for at least twenty minutes...Maybe thirty.
And to be clear, I'm still going to bring this up every single time I need to win an argument for the rest of our lives.
Twenty years from now we'll be eighty years old arguing over something stupid and I'll still be like "remember when you disappeared for months and emotionally devastated me?"
So really, he's never living this down.
But I forgave him.
Because the second I saw him again I realized something.
I need him.
Not in a dramatic world-ending way.
Just...Jacob shaped spaces exist all throughout my life.
And everything feels wrong when he's not there to fill them.
Eventually we end up in his room.
My room.
Not technically.
But close enough.
I drop onto his bed with a dramatic sigh and immediately realize how much I've missed it.
Which sounds ridiculous.
But I've spent more time on this mattress than some people spend in their own bedrooms.
Movie nights.
Late night conversations.
Falling asleep accidentally while Jacob rambled about engines.
This room holds half my childhood.
The familiar smell of motor oil, laundry detergent, and Jacob surrounds me instantly.
And for the first time in months I feel like I can breathe properly.
Jacob sits beside me.
Close enough that our shoulders touch.
Neither of us seems interested in moving away.
"You're staring," he says eventually.
I blink.
Apparently I've been staring at him.
Oops.
"I was making sure you're real."
He laughs softly.
The sound hits me right in the chest.
God I missed that laugh.
"You're such a weirdo."
"Yeah well."
Silence settles comfortably between us.
Not awkward.
Never awkward.
Just easy.
Like slipping back into your favorite hoodie after months without it.
I twist the bracelet around my wrist absentmindedly.
The bracelet is back where it belongs.
And somehow that makes me emotional again.
Which is embarrassing.
"So," Jacob says carefully. "How's Bella?"
The question immediately wipes the smile from my face.
Jacob notices instantly.
"Bad?"
I sigh.
"Bad."
His shoulders tense slightly.
I stare down at my hands.
"The other day Charlie threatened to send her back to her mom."
Jacob's head snaps toward me.
"What?"
"Yeah."
I stare down at my hands, twisting the bracelet around my wrist.
"The thing is..." I trail off. "She didn't actually want to go."
His brow furrows.
"Charlie was yelling. Bella was stuttering. It was a whole thing."
I let out a small humorless laugh.
"And then she just blurts out that she has plans with me and Ashley all week."
Jacob blinks.
"What?"
"Exactly."
I point at him.
"Because she did not have plans with me and Ashley."
A tiny smile tugs at his mouth.
"So what happened?"
"I lied."
His eyebrows lift.
"You lied?"
"I saved her life."
Jacob laughs.
I shove his shoulder.
"She looked so panicked Jacob. Like genuinely panicked. So I just jumped in and agreed." I mimic my own voice dramatically. "'Yep. Tons of plans. So many plans. We're booked solid.'"
The laugh fades from his face as I continue.
"It worked."
The room grows quieter.
"Charlie backed off."
"But?" Jacob asks softly.
There's always a but.
I swallow hard.
"But I don't think she's actually getting better."
The words sit heavy between us.
"It feels like..."
My throat tightens.
"Like she's waiting for something."
The words come out quieter than I intended.
"Or someone."
Immediately Edward's face flashes through my mind.
The way Bella still looks at the woods sometimes. The way she still gets this distant look in her eyes when she thinks nobody's watching. The way every smile feels just a little forced.
"I don't know." I shake my head. "Maybe I'm wrong."
But I don't think I am.
"I don't know what to do anymore."
The confession comes out smaller than I intend.
Because I don't.
Bella's become one of my favorite people...Somehow.
My sister. My actual sister. And watching her disappear piece by piece feels awful.
"I keep trying."
My throat tightens.
"I keep trying to make her laugh and she just..."
I trail off.
Because suddenly I'm crying.
Again.
Fantastic.
Love that for me.
Jacob doesn't laugh.
Doesn't tease me.
Doesn't tell me to stop.
He just opens his arms.
And that's all it takes.
I practically launch myself at him.
The second his arms wrap around me I completely fall apart.
Months of loneliness.
Months of missing him.
Months of worrying about Bella.
All of it comes crashing out at once.
I bury my face in his shoulder and cry.
Not pretty crying either.
Actual ugly crying.
The kind that makes it hard to breathe.
Jacob just holds me tighter.
One hand rubs slow circles against my back.
The other settles in my curls.
Careful.
Always careful.
"I missed you," I whisper finally.
The words come out muffled against his shirt.
His arms tighten immediately.
"I know."
"I was so mad at you."
"I know."
"You suck."
A laugh rumbles through his chest.
"There she is."
I smack his shoulder weakly.
Which only makes him laugh harder.
And somehow I start laughing too through the tears.
Because of course I do.
Because Jacob has always been able to pull me back from the edge.
Eventually the crying slows.
Then stops.
But neither of us lets go.
I stay curled against him with my head tucked beneath his chin while his heartbeat thumps steadily against my ear.
Safe.
Familiar.
Home.
For a long time neither of us says anything.
We don't need to.
Because I think we both understand something now.
Some people become so woven into your life that losing them feels like losing a piece of yourself.
And maybe that's why forgiving Jacob wasn't actually difficult.
Staying angry was.
I lift my head slightly and look up at him.
"I'm still bringing this up whenever I need leverage."
Jacob groans immediately.
"Oh come on."
"Nope."
"Ky."
"Nope."
"I apologized."
"You emotionally abandoned me."
"It was one time."
I point dramatically at him.
"See? You're already minimizing my trauma."
Jacob laughs so hard he nearly falls off the bed. And honestly? That's probably the moment I know I made the right choice. Because for the first time in months, everything feels normal again.
✧─────────────────────✧
The movie sucks.
Not because it's actually bad.
I couldn't tell you if it's bad.
I haven't paid attention to a single second of it.
Jessica is crying beside me over some romance plot while Bella stares blankly at the screen like she's trying to solve a math equation hidden inside the movie.
I mostly spend the entire time watching Bella.
Which sounds creepy.
But after months of worrying about her, it's become a habit.
She's been talking more lately. Smiling occasionally. Showing up when people invite her places.
Enough that everyone thinks she's getting better.
I don't.
I think she's pretending.
And tonight is proving my point.
The second the credits roll Bella is already standing.
"Bathroom," she mutters.
Jessica stretches dramatically. "That movie emotionally devastated me."
"It was literally a romantic comedy."
"It was art."
I roll my eyes while we make our way out of the theater.
The streets of Port Angeles are crowded despite the late hour. Neon signs reflect off wet pavement while people wander between restaurants and shops.
For a few minutes everything feels normal.
Then Bella stops walking.
I almost walk into her.
"What are you doing?"
She doesn't answer.
She's staring across the street.
My stomach immediately drops.
Because I know that look.
That distant look.
The one she gets right before she does something insane.
Following her gaze, I spot a group of bikers standing near their motorcycles.
Absolutely not.
"No."
Bella starts walking.
"No."
Faster.
"BELLA."
She ignores me.
Jessica blinks in confusion. "What's happening?"
"I DON'T KNOW."
Bella crosses the street.
I immediately sprint after her.
Because apparently this is my life now.
Running after my self-destructive sister.
The traffic light changes while I'm halfway across.
A car horn blares.
I nearly eat shit on the curb.
Somehow I catch myself before face-planting into concrete.
"Jesus Christ!"
Jessica is yelling behind me now too.
Bella doesn't even look back.
The bikers notice her approaching immediately.
And instead of acting like normal people confronted by a random teenage girl, they start talking to her.
Which somehow makes me even angrier.
I finally catch up just in time to hear Bella asking about motorcycles.
Motorcycles.
Motorcycles.
The thing Charlie specifically hates.
The thing Bella has literally never shown interest in before.
One of the bikers grins.
"You wanna ride?"
"No."
The word flies out of my mouth instantly.
Bella ignores me.
Again.
"I'm serious Bella."
She looks at me.
And for one second I see something weird in her expression.
Not excitement.
Desperation.
Like she's chasing something.
Before I can figure out what, she climbs onto the back of the motorcycle.
My jaw drops.
"BELLA SWAN."
The motorcycle roars to life.
Jessica looks horrified.
I look homicidal.
And then Bella disappears down the street.
My sister.
My stupid.
Idiotic.
Wonderful sister.
Has just ridden away with a complete stranger.
I stand there staring after her.
Speechless.
Jessica slowly turns toward me.
"Should we call the police?"
"Charlie?"
"Absolutely not."
Because Charlie would actually die.
The next ten minutes are the longest of my life.
Every horrible possibility runs through my head.
Kidnapping.
Crash. Murder. Organ harvesting. I don't know. I've watched enough crime documentaries. Jessica paces. I pace.
Then finally...
The motorcycle returns. Relief crashes into me so hard my knees almost buckle. Bella climbs off looking completely fine. Completely. Fine. I storm toward her immediately.
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?"
Bella blinks. Jessica joins me.
"YOU LEFT."
"WITH A STRANGER."
"ON A MOTORCYCLE."
Bella looks genuinely confused by our reactions. Which somehow makes me even angrier.
"I'm fine."
"That is not the point."
"It literally is."
"No."
I point dramatically at the biker.
"That man could have murdered you."
The biker looks offended.
Good.
Bella sighs.
"I just wanted to try it."
"No."
"What do you mean no?"
"I mean no."
Bella rubs her forehead.
"Kylie."
"No. Explain."
She opens her mouth.
Pauses.
Then immediately starts making excuses.
Bad excuses.
Terrible excuses.
The kind that don't even sound believable while she's saying them.
"I just wanted to see what it was like."
"What?"
"I don't know."
"What does that mean?"
Bella throws her hands up.
Jessica looks back and forth between us like she's watching a tennis match. I narrow my eyes. Because she's lying. Not about riding the motorcycle. About why. There's something she's not saying.
Again.
Always.
And suddenly I'm exhausted. Because I'm tired of chasing her. Tired of watching her throw herself into increasingly dangerous situations. Tired of feeling like she's standing on the edge of something and refusing to tell anyone what she's looking at. Bella's expression softens slightly.
"I'm okay."
The anger drains out of me all at once. Because I guess she is. She's standing here. Breathing. Alive.
"You're an idiot."
Bella almost smiles.
"I know."
I pull her into a hug before I can stop myself.
Mostly because if I don't hug her, I might strangle her.
And honestly?
I'm not entirely sure which option she'd prefer.
✧─────────────────────✧
We're in Jacob's garage working on my beautiful car.
And yes. My car. Because at this point she's more than basically mine.
The '64 El Camino sits in the center of the garage looking better every single week. The paint is coming together. The body work is almost finished. The engine is finally starting to resemble an engine instead of a pile of expensive problems.
She's gorgeous.
I've spent so much time here lately that my hands are permanently stained with grease. Not that I mind.
Because Jacob is here.
And things are normal again...Mostly.
I tighten a bolt while Jacob rambles about something involving carburetors that I stopped understanding ten minutes ago.
"Are you even listening?"
"No."
He laughs.
I grin.
Life is good. Then we hear an engine. Both of us glance toward the driveway. A familiar red truck rolls into view.
Bella.
My entire face lights up immediately. Because despite all the stress and worry and chaos, seeing Bella actually leave the house feels like spotting a unicorn in the wild.
"She's alive," I whisper dramatically.
Jacob practically drops the wrench in his hand.
Oh no.
No no no.
I know that look.
His entire face brightens.
Like someone flipped a switch.
And suddenly I'm having war flashbacks to last year.
Please tell me we aren't doing this again.
Please tell me we aren't backsliding.
But despite the immediate jealousy trying to claw its way into my brain, I'm genuinely happy to see her.
She's out of the house.
She's wearing actual clothes instead of pajamas.
This is progress.
Bella climbs out of the truck.
Then opens the bed.
And reveals two motorcycles.
I blink.
Jacob blinks.
"What?" I ask.
Bella smiles slightly.
"I found them."
"Found them?"
"They need work."
Jacob is already moving toward the truck.
Traitor. I follow behind him. Because absolutely not. Bella leans against the side of the truck while Jacob looks over the bikes.
"I was wondering if you'd help me fix them."
Jacob's face breaks into a grin.
"Seriously?"
And there it is. That look. Bella's staring at him like he's the answer to every question she's ever asked. Like he's the first good thing that's happened to her in months.
And honestly?
I get it.
I really do.
Jacob has always been good at putting broken things back together.
Cars.
Motorcycles.
People.
But it's still throwing me off.
I reach over and lightly grab his arm.
Just enough to remind him I exist.
Nothing.
His eyes remain completely fixed on Bella.
Excuse me?
Hello?
I am right here.
Jacob steps toward the truck.
Then grabs one of the motorcycles.
And lifts it.
Not part of it.
Not one end.
The whole damn motorcycle.
By himself.
I stare.
Bella stares.
The bike shifts easily in his hands as he lowers it onto the garage floor.
What.
The.
Hell.
Since when was he this strong? I knew he'd gotten bigger. I knew he'd been spending more time with Sam and the others. But this is ridiculous. Jacob reaches for the second motorcycle and does the exact same thing. Like it weighs nothing. Like he's moving a chair.
Bella blinks.
"Jake..."
He glances up.
"Yeah?"
"You're like...buff."
I almost choke.
Oh my god.
I want to smack her. Not because she's wrong. She's absolutely right. Unfortunately. But because the way she says it makes something irrational and possessive immediately flare up in my chest. Jacob scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. Actually embarrassed. Which somehow makes it worse.
"I guess."
"I guess?" Bella repeats.
I point aggressively.
"Can we focus on the fact that he just picked up an entire motorcycle?"
"Thank you," Jacob says.
"No. This isn't a compliment. This is a concern."
Bella laughs.
An actual laugh.
Not one of the tiny polite ones she's been giving lately.
A real one.
And for a second both Jacob and I go quiet. Because we've missed that sound. Bella notices immediately. Then gets embarrassed. Then immediately stops laughing. Which somehow makes me want to cry. Jacob notices too. His smile softens.
"Let's get these things inside."
Bella nods.
And for the first time in months, she looks excited about something. Actually excited.
I glance between the two of them.
Bella smiling. Jacob smiling. The motorcycles. The garage. The sunlight coming through the open door. And suddenly that weird feeling in my chest eases. Because maybe this isn't backsliding. Maybe this is healing. Maybe Bella isn't staring at Jacob because she's replacing Edward.
Maybe she's staring at him because for the first time in months, she finally found her way back to something good. Still. If she calls him buff again, I'm throwing a wrench at her.
✧─────────────────────✧
Guys I met the limit oops.
Tag List: @loversonne @mrsabbotthankya @bearballerina44 @louisianalady @samuelseoswife @tcapter @uhhitaintme101
It takes a while for the pack to return, long enough for Emily to fix you both a late lunch and all but force you into a chair at the dining table to eat with her. You’re slumped against the table, chin propped up on your arm as you sleepily listen to Emily telling you stories about the guys from their time as wolves when the back door swings open with a cacophony of noise. Voices and laughter overlap each other and you perk up to watch them come tumbling through. They’re all smiling, Sam beelining for Emily to press a kiss to her cheek while the other two head your way.
Jared pats your shoulder on his way by, heading for the couch in the sitting room to collapse onto. Paul stops next to your chair smiling somewhat bashfully down at you.
“Sorry about that, sunshine.” He rubs at the back of his neck with a quiet laugh. “Do you want to go outside? I’m sure you’ve got more questions for me now.”
”Just a few.” You stand trying to ignore the way everyone in the room is watching you both.
Paul nods to Sam wordlessly and tugs you out the front of the house, stopping only long enough to grab a shirt out of the back of Jared’s truck. You’re both quiet for a while, content to let the sound of your footsteps fill the air until you reach your cottage. You lead Paul around the back to the steps to the porch and pull him down to sit next to you.
“Are you okay?” You ask quietly. You hadn’t seen any damage to him when he’d come in but you’re almost certain he’d be the type to try and hide it.
“Not a scratch.” He confirms with a nod.
”That’s good.” You feel like you can breathe a little sigh of relief knowing he hadn’t been injured. “Can I ask, what is an imprint? And why did Jared say I was your imprint?”
“It’s a wolf thing.” He begins unhelpfully. “Kind of a confusing wolf thing. Legends say that it’s rare, but so far it’s happened to all of us. After we phase our wolf lives within us, sort of like we’re sharing space in our body with it. It’s why we sometimes react to things more strongly than necessary, or differently than we used to. When we imprint it only takes one look at the person for our wolf to do it, and once we imprint it changes everything. It’s like the center of our universe shifts and our imprint is the focus of it. We’d do anything, be anything for our imprint. I guess it’s sort of like soulmates, but different.”
”So that day on the beach, when you saved me. Did you imprint on me then?” A sour feeling has settled in your gut, unease at the way Paul’s describing imprinting.
“Yeah, as soon as our eyes met it happened. I thought it was the universe punishing me at first, giving me the one thing that my wolf truly ever desired to then just take it away. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t survived that day.” Paul reaches out to grasp your clammy hand as if he’s unable to continue without a physical reminder that you’re alright.
”Doesn’t it bother you though? Had you not imprinted you probably wouldn’t have stuck around so long in the hospital. You wouldn’t have felt the need to help me like you have been. You should resent me if anything Paul for essentially tying you down for the rest of our lives.” You can’t understand why he isn’t upset about the situation, can’t understand why he’s still looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars.
“I don’t think of it as you tying me down. You don’t make me feel trapped or stuck, sunshine, you make me feel centered. I feel like I’m finally whole, for the first time since I’ve become what I am I feel complete. When I’m around you my wolf isn’t angry and restless, you’re the one person in the world that I could never resent.” His voice has gone quiet, nearly whispering, his tone full of reverence.
“But how do you know that it’s your choice? Your feelings, not just what your wolf or the universe or whoever says you’re supposed to feel.” You can’t deny the warmth that’s blossoming in your chest at hearing how he feels about you, but you refuse to let yourself truly believe it without knowing it's his decision.
“It may have been my wolf that imprinted on you, but he’s still part of me. It is me, just a part of me I didn’t know about up until a few months ago. I’m still me, still hotheaded stubborn old Paul Lahote. It might have been the wolf that imprinted on you, but it’s me that’s choosing to pursue you in more than a friendly way. My wolf could live with it if we were just friends, but I can’t. I don’t want to be friends with you sunshine, I want it all.” Paul’s free hand comes up to cup your cheek, to make sure you’re paying attention to what he’s saying like he couldn’t take it if you didn’t believe him.
”I don’t want to be friends with you either.” You breathe, leaning up to close the gap between the two of you.
”Say it, baby.”
”I want you, Paul Lahote.” His eyes flutter shut at your words, breath leaving his chest in a soft exhale. “I want you to kiss me.”
He closes the final few inches between you instead of answering, thumb stroking your cheek like you’re something special, something to be treasured. You’re his whole world and as far as you’re concerned he’s your universe. Your anchor when you feel like you’re floating out to sea, lost in the tide of who you once were and who you might still be.
This kiss is worlds different from the first. It’s tender and slow like it alone is working to smooth out all of your combined rough edges. Your free hand tangles in his shirt, tugging at it to pull him closer even though you’re already pressed against each other on the stoop. Paul drops your hand in favor of wrapping his arm around your back enveloping you entirely in his warmth, in him.
You sigh happily against his lips when you finally part, eyes blinking open syrupy slow and foreheads pressed together like you can’t stand to get too far. He grins down at you, eyes dancing with relief and joy and a myriad of emotions you can’t quite name. A grin mirrors his on your lips, slightly reddened and swollen from your kisses.
“Does this mean you get to keep me warm at night instead of your quilt?” You ask with a quiet laugh when his eyes widen in surprise.
”How’d you know it was mine?” A faint flush draws attention to a small smattering of freckles over his cheeks and the strong bridge of his nose.
”Because it smelled like you.” You shrug, burying your face in his chest at his teasing laugh.
”There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, baby.” He smacks a loud kiss to your ear making you squeal and attempt to struggle out of his grip. He doesn’t let you go, opting instead to haul you into his lap and hook his chin over your shoulder. “We should probably check back in with the others soon, before they think you’ve skipped town.”
“We can in a little while,” you sigh, leaning into him fully. “I’d like to stay like this for a bit.”
“As long as you want.” He promises and you smile content to soak up the last of the sunshine with Paul.
(Twilight what I would wear if i were Bella's older sister)
Jacob x OC fic based on the tiktok trend from a little bit ago where you make outfits and write a little blurb on that outfit. We're going to speed run the first movie and then go on to the second one so we can move onto him as a wolf. Bella and Jacob are 18 in their senior year of high school in the bulk of this story and OC is 20 because of being held back as a kid for plot reasons.
~Description: Being Bella Swan’s older sister was never supposed to change anything. Not with Charlie. Not with school. And definitely not with Jacob Black. But suddenly, Bella is everywhere. In the halls at school. In Charlie’s life. In Jacob’s conversations. And no matter how hard you try to pretend it doesn’t bother you, you can feel things shifting underneath your feet. Jacob starts keeping secrets. Bella starts falling in love. And you start realizing that maybe the worst kind of heartbreak isn't losing someone completely. Maybe it's standing right beside them while they slowly choose someone else. Or maybe you're just dramatic. Probably both.
✧─────────────────────✧
We start spending more time in Jacob's garage. Honestly, it's weird. But nice weird I guess.
Bella is clearly doing much better. She's talking again, smiling sometimes, actually leaving the house without Charlie looking like he's about to cry from relief. The annoying part is that apparently her version of getting better involves clinging to my best friend.
Not that I can blame her.
Jacob is easy to cling to. He's warm and funny and always seems to know exactly what to say when someone's having a bad day. Still, every now and then watching them together gives me this weird little pinch beneath my ribs. Nothing serious. Just enough to make me notice it.
I care more about Bella feeling better than whatever weird vibes are happening between her and Jacob.
Mostly.
Today we're all hanging out in the garage. Bella is perched on the hood of one of the motorcycles while Jacob works on something beneath it. I'm sitting on the floor sorting through tools and trying not to get grease on my jeans for once.
The garage door is open, letting in the cool ocean air and the distant sound of waves.
Then Embry and Quil walk in.
Actually, swagger in.
The second they spot us their faces light up with identical expressions.
Oh no.
"No," I say immediately.
"I didn't even say anything yet," Quil protests.
"You were going to."
Embry points between Bella and me. "Fair."
Jacob groans from somewhere underneath the motorcycle.
"What do you two want?"
"We have a very important question," Quil announces.
"It's not important," Jacob says.
"It is to us."
Bella immediately looks entertained.
That's never a good sign.
Quil gestures dramatically between the two of us. "Which one are you dating?"
The garage goes silent.
Jacob's head immediately smacks against the underside of the motorcycle.
"Ow!"
Bella bursts out laughing.
I just stare.
Embry is trying and failing not to grin.
Jacob slides out from beneath the bike looking deeply offended. "Neither."
"Really?" Quil asks.
"Yes really."
Quil points at me. "You spend all your time with her."
Then he points at Bella.
"And now all your time with her."
Bella raises a hand.
"In his defense," she says, "he's actually never dated either of us."
"Thank you," Jacob says.
"Which honestly makes this way weirder."
"BELLA."
She laughs harder.
Quil looks between the three of us. "I'm even more confused now."
"You should be," I mutter.
Jacob grabs a rag and throws it directly at Quil's face.
I should be laughing.
Normally I would be.
Instead I find myself looking at Jacob.
Then at Bella.
Then back at Jacob.
Because for some reason the question is still bouncing around inside my head.
Which one are you dating?
Neither.
Obviously.
The answer should make me feel relieved.
Instead it just leaves that strange little ache beneath my ribs.
✧─────────────────────✧
I've taken to sleeping in Bella's bed.
Which is weird.
Not because we're sisters. Well, sort of sisters. Whatever we are.
It's weird because I used to spend all my nights with Jacob.
If you'd asked me a year ago where I'd be sleeping, the answer would've been obvious. Sneaking out to La Push, climbing through Jacob's window, curled up in his bed while he talked about absolutely nothing until one of us fell asleep.
Now I'm here.
Curled up beneath a pile of blankets in Bella's room.
And honestly?
I'd rather be here.
Because Bella needs someone.
The nightmares started not long after Edward left. At first they happened once a week. Then twice. Then almost every night.
Most nights she doesn't even remember them.
I do.
Because they wake me up every single time.
Tonight is no different.
The scream tears through the darkness so suddenly that I nearly fall out of bed.
My heart slams against my ribs.
Beside me Bella jerks violently beneath the blankets.
"No-"
Her voice sounds strangled.
Terrified.
She's kicking now, tangled in the sheets, breathing hard like she's running from something.
Or someone.
"Bella."
Nothing.
Her eyes are squeezed shut.
Tears streak her face.
"Bella."
I sit up immediately and grab her shoulders.
She's still trapped somewhere inside the nightmare.
"No!"
The scream echoes through the room.
My chest physically hurts hearing it.
"Bella wake up."
Nothing.
She's shaking.
Actually shaking.
So I do the only thing I can think of.
I pull her into my arms.
"Bella."
I hold her tightly against my chest.
"It's okay."
Another strangled sound escapes her.
"Bella wake up."
Then suddenly her eyes fly open.
For one awful second she doesn't recognize where she is.
Or who I am.
Pure panic fills her expression.
Then reality crashes back in.
The panic turns into exhaustion.
Her body goes limp against mine.
The bedroom door bursts open.
Charlie.
Of course.
He's breathing hard, hair sticking up in every direction and still wearing the same flannel he fell asleep in downstairs.
His eyes immediately find Bella.
Again.
The realization lands heavily in my chest.
Because this isn't unusual anymore.
Charlie doesn't even ask what happened.
He already knows.
Another nightmare.
Another sleepless night.
Another reminder that Bella isn't okay.
"Bellabell?" he asks carefully.
Bella just nods weakly.
Charlie lets out a breath.
The kind of breath people take when they're relieved something isn't even worse.
He crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed.
For a moment nobody speaks.
The rain taps softly against the windows.
Bella's breathing slowly evens out.
I keep one arm around her shoulders.
Not because she asked.
Because she never asks.
Because she leans into it anyway.
Eventually Charlie rubs a hand across his face.
"Want me to make some tea?"
Bella shakes her head.
"Hot chocolate?"
Another head shake.
Charlie looks helpless.
I know the feeling.
Because I don't know what to do anymore either.
I don't know how to fix this.
I don't know how to fight something that only exists in her head.
All I know is that every night she falls asleep terrified.
And every morning she wakes up exhausted.
Bella rests her forehead against my shoulder.
A movement so small I almost miss it.
But it makes my throat tighten.
Because a year ago Bella would've never done that.
A year ago we barely knew each other.
Now she's the first person I check on every morning.
The last person I say goodnight to.
My sister.
Not because we're related.
Because she's mine.
And she's hurting.
Charlie eventually stands.
"Yell if you need me."
Neither of us answers.
He leaves the door cracked open anyway.
The hallway light spills softly across the floor.
Bella stares at the blankets for a long time after he's gone.
I don't push.
I've learned not to.
If Bella wants to talk she'll talk.
If she doesn't, no amount of asking will change that.
So instead I brush a piece of hair behind her ear.
"You wanna tell me about it?"
She shakes her head.
Figures.
"You know eventually I'm going to start charging you for emotional support."
A tiny huff of laughter escapes her.
Barely there.
But enough.
I smile.
"There she is."
Bella rolls her eyes weakly.
Then settles back down beneath the blankets.
I lay down beside her.
The room goes quiet again.
For a while I think she's fallen asleep.
Then...
"Kylie?"
Her voice is barely above a whisper.
"Hm?"
A long pause.
"So many people leave."
The words hit me like a punch.
I stare at the ceiling.
Because suddenly I understand.
Not everything.
But enough.
Mom left.
Edward left.
People leave.
And Bella's terrified everyone else will too.
I reach across the space between us and grab her hand beneath the blankets.
She squeezes mine immediately.
Hard.
"I'm not going anywhere."
The answer comes automatically.
Without hesitation.
Without thought.
Because it's true.
Bella doesn't say anything.
But she doesn't let go of my hand either.
And neither do I.
Outside the rain keeps falling.
Inside the nightmares wait for another night.
But for now she's here.
For now she's safe.
And for now that's the best I can do.
✧─────────────────────✧
So Bella and Jacob took the bikes out without me.
Without me.
The betrayal is actually unbelievable.
I've spent weeks helping fix those stupid motorcycles. Weeks sitting in Jacob's garage getting grease under my nails while Bella learned how to ride. And then the first real ride they take?
Without me.
Rude.
I hear the engines before I see them.
I'm sprawled across the couch flipping through channels when the familiar rumble reaches the house. For a second my face lights up automatically.
Then I remember I'm annoyed.
The front door opens.
Bella walks in first.
And immediately every ounce of irritation vanishes.
"What happened?"
Bella freezes.
There's a giant gash on her forehead.
Blood has dried along her hairline and streaked down the side of her face.
Not enough blood that she's actively bleeding anymore.
Enough blood that my stomach drops straight through the floor.
"Jesus Christ Bella."
"I'm fine."
"No."
"I'm okay."
"No."
I stand up so fast I almost trip over the coffee table.
"Why are you always injured?"
Bella sighs dramatically.
"It looks worse than it is."
"That sentence should be printed on a t-shirt at this point."
The screen door opens behind her.
And Jacob follows her inside.
My brain immediately derails.
Because Jacob is shirtless.
Shirtless.
Why is he shirtless?
Where is his shirt?
Did shirts become illegal?
What happened?
I stare.
Then immediately look away.
Then look back.
Because holy fuck.
When did that happen?
I knew he'd gotten bigger.
I knew he'd gotten stronger.
I've watched him casually lift motorcycles around his garage like they weigh thirty pounds.
But this feels different.
Jacob turned eighteen and apparently woke up one day looking like he wrestles bears recreationally.
His shoulders practically fill the doorway.
His arms are ridiculous.
And don't even get me started on the abs.
There are entirely too many abs happening right now.
I hate it.
Not because they look bad.
Quite the opposite.
That's the problem.
"Oh."
The word escapes before I can stop it.
Jacob looks confused.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Everything.
Jacob narrows his eyes suspiciously.
Bella actually snorts.
Traitor.
I point at her forehead immediately.
"Don't laugh. You're bleeding."
Bella touches the cut automatically.
"It's really not that bad."
"It is literally on your face."
"I fell."
"Onto what?"
"A rock."
I stare at her.
"A rock."
"Yes."
"Just one rock specifically?"
Bella rolls her eyes.
Jacob is trying very hard not to laugh.
Again.
Traitor.
I grab Bella's wrist and drag her toward the bathroom.
"We're cleaning that."
"I'm fine."
"We're cleaning that."
"I don't need..."
"We are cleaning that."
Jacob follows us inside.
I pull out the first aid kit and start aggressively searching through it.
Bella hops up onto the bathroom counter.
Jacob leans against the doorway.
Still shirtless.
Unfortunately....Fortunately?
I am trying very hard to be normal.
It's not working.
"Hold still."
Bella winces as I start cleaning the cut.
"Ouch."
"Good."
"You're enjoying this."
"A little."
She laughs softly.
A real laugh.
Not one of the tiny polite ones she's been doing lately.
An actual laugh.
The sound immediately catches my attention.
Because lately Bella's been happier.
Not completely.
Not fixed.
But happier.
The nightmares still happen.
The sadness is still there.
But she's smiling again.
Leaving the house again.
Living again.
And somehow a lot of that seems connected to Jacob.
The realization makes me glance toward him.
He's watching Bella carefully.
Not in a weird way.
Not possessive.
Not romantic.
Just...watching.
Making sure she's okay.
Like he's been doing it for years.
Like he can't help himself.
And Bella looks calmer when he's around.
Safer.
A weird little feeling twists beneath my ribs.
Not jealousy exactly.
Something stranger.
Like the world shifted while I wasn't looking.
Bella notices me staring.
"What?"
I blink.
"Nothing."
"Liar."
I ignore her completely.
Instead I finish bandaging her forehead before stepping back to admire my work.
"There."
Bella hops off the counter.
Jacob immediately reaches out to steady her.
The movement is automatic.
Neither of them even seems to notice it.
I do.
And suddenly something clicks.
Oh.
Oh.
Not oh in the romantic sense.
Just...
Oh.
Whatever weird thing happened while I wasn't paying attention, these two found something in each other that nobody else could give them.
Bella spent months feeling like she was drowning.
Jacob somehow taught her how to breathe again.
The realization settles heavily in my chest.
Not painful.
Just...different.
Bella bumps her shoulder lightly against mine.
"Thanks."
I look at her.
Really look at her.
The color in her cheeks.
The spark back in her eyes.
The fact that she's actually standing here laughing after months of barely existing.
And honestly?
Maybe I can forgive the motorcycles.
Maybe.
I point at her forehead one last time.
"If you come home bleeding one more time I'm wrapping you in bubble wrap."
Bella grins.
Jacob finally laughs out loud.
And for the first time all day, I find myself laughing too.
✧─────────────────────✧
Time alone with Jacob has been virtually nonexistent lately. Between Bella, motorcycles, school, and whatever weird stuff is going on with the tribe, of which I barely get to see anymore, I feel like I barely get him to myself anymore.
So before I can overthink it, I grab his wrist.
"Come on."
Jacob looks confused. "What?"
"You're not getting grease and road dirt all over my house."
"I wasn't planning to."
"Good. Then get upstairs."
Bella immediately starts laughing.
"Are you kidnapping him?"
"Mind your business."
I drag him upstairs before either of them can argue.
The second we get into my room I shove him toward the bed and close the door behind us.
Jacob catches himself with a laugh.
"You're weird."
"Yeah, yeah."
I lean back against the door for a second.
The room suddenly feels smaller with him in it.
More familiar somehow.
"I think I have one of your shirts somewhere."
"You have one of my shirts?"
"I have several of your shirts."
Jacob looks entirely too pleased by that.
I immediately turn toward my closet.
The room fills with the familiar scent of him. Motor oil. Forest air. Sweat.
Actually...I wrinkle my nose.
"You need a shower."
Jacob gasps dramatically.
"Wow."
"You smell like a mechanic."
"I am a mechanic."
"You're also a biohazard."
He laughs.
Lucky for me, Charlie built me an en-suite bathroom years ago after I hit puberty and started monopolizing the hallway bathroom every morning. Which may have made him late for work a couple of times.
I point toward it.
"Jacob, get your ass in the shower while I look for your clothes."
He stands.
Then walks past me toward the bathroom.
The brush of his arm against mine is brief.
Entirely accidental.
And somehow my brain decides to short-circuit over it anyway.
What is wrong with me?
The bathroom door shuts.
I stare at it for a second.
Then immediately turn back toward my closet.
Focus.
Clothes.
Find clothes.
Totally normal activity.
A few minutes later I find a t-shirt and pair of sweats he'd let me borrow a bit ago. They smell like his bedroom tied up in my body oil.
I set them aside.
Then get distracted.
I "forget" to give them to him. Listen I don't know what's happening but is it wrong to appreciate my best friends body? Oof probably.
I'm just sitting on my bed thinking.
Thinking about Jacob.
Which is apparently a dangerous hobby.
The shower shuts off.
A minute later the bathroom door opens.
And there he is.
Hair damp and pushed back from his face.
Towel hanging low on his hip bones.
Water still clinging to his shoulders and slowly making it's way down his abs.
My brain immediately exits the chat.
"Where are my clothes?" he asks, one eyebrow lifting.
I blink.
Right.
Clothes.
Those.
"I found them."
"Then why don't I have them?"
Good question.
I stand quickly.
Too quickly.
Almost trip.
Recover with what I hope is dignity.
There is no dignity.
Only panic.
I grab another towel from beside the bathroom door. We're almost chest to chest.
"You still have to dry off."
Jacob stares at me.
I stare back.
The silence stretches.
I run the towel across his chest and we stare really intensly for a moment.
I can smell my shampoo on him, and a very dangerous thought enters my brain.
He smells like me now.
Oh no.
No no no.
Absolutely not.
I know where this road leads.
I don't want to walk down it.
Because the second I acknowledge what I've been avoiding for months, everything changes.
Jacob reaches out and catches my wrist lightly. It was low...Like making its way down his abs low. Oops.
The movement snaps me out of whatever spiral I was disappearing into.
His expression is amused.
Concerned.
Fond.
All at once.
"Ky."
"Hm?"
"I think I'm dry."
I immediately step back.
Fast.
Very fast.
Like someone caught me committing a crime.
"Right."
I grab his clothes and shove them directly into his chest.
"There."
Jacob laughs.
The sound bounces around my room.
"You okay?"
"No."
His eyebrows shoot up.
I point aggressively at him.
"Stop flaunting your abs at me."
His grin widens.
"I wasn't."
"How'd you even get those anyway?"
"Work."
"Yeah sure."
Jacob laughs again before disappearing back into the bathroom to change.
The door closes.
I stand there for exactly three seconds.
Then immediately throw myself backward onto my bed.
The ceiling stares back at me.
I stare back.
My heart is beating way too fast.
This is bad.
Very bad.
Because I've spent months telling myself that weird feeling in my chest was jealousy.
Or loneliness.
Or fear of losing my best friend.
And maybe some of it was.
But lying on my bed now, listening to Jacob move around in the next room, another possibility settles into my stomach.
A much more dangerous one.
"...Oh."
The word slips out into the empty room.
Because suddenly everything makes sense.
The jealousy.
The hurt.
The way seeing him again felt like finally breathing after being underwater.
The way I always look for him first.
The way I miss him.
Not just when he's gone.
All the time.
Oh.
Oh no.
I bury my face in a pillow.
I'm so fucked.
✧─────────────────────✧
Bella is finally talking again.
Not just talking.
Planning things.
Which is honestly more terrifying.
Because now she has decided that all of us are going to the movies.
By all of us, I mean me, Bella, Jessica, Mike, and whatever poor unfortunate soul Bella decides to collect along the way.
Including Jacob.
Mostly because I decide Jacob is coming whether he wants to or not.
"Why?" he asks while we're standing beside my El Camino after school.
"Because."
"That's not an answer."
"It absolutely is."
Jacob narrows his eyes.
I narrow mine back.
Eventually he sighs dramatically.
"Fine."
Victory.
...Just Mike Showed up.
It's me, Bella, Mike, and Jacob. Boy am I glad I grabbed Jacob.
The movie is terrible.
Actually terrible.
Not in a fun way either.
Just boring and gross.
People are getting dismembered every fifteen minutes and somehow there's still no plot.
I hate it.
Mike looks like he's trying very hard to enjoy it.
Bella is having the time of her life.
Which honestly concerns me.
I glance over at her during one particularly disgusting scene.
She's completely focused.
Entranced even.
Who is this woman?
What happened to my sister?
Meanwhile Jacob is sitting beside me looking deeply unimpressed.
"This is awful," I whisper.
"It's so bad."
"Thank you."
Our shoulders bump. Ordinarily, during a movie, Jacob and I would have moved the armrest to lie on each other.
Which was normal.
Now it feels charged, and I don't know if I can get myself to do it. It feels wrong, a friendly gesture feels like more than that to me, and thats unfair to him.
Bella immediately shushes us.
Traitor.
A few rows ahead Mike suddenly stands up.
The poor guy looks green.
Actually green.
"Uh oh," I whisper.
Mike practically sprints toward the exit. A second later the theater doors slam shut behind him.
Silence.
Then Jacob stands. My stomach immediately drops. Because I've seen that look before.
The tense shoulders. The clenched jaw. Something's wrong.
"Jake?"
He doesn't answer.
Bella notices too.
Her entire expression shifts.
The amusement vanishes instantly.
Jacob is already heading toward the exit.
Bella immediately follows.
"Jacob."
Nothing.
The theater doors swing shut behind them.
I stare for approximately three seconds.
Then groan.
"Well now I have to follow them."
Outside the theater the cold air hits immediately.
I spot Bella and Jacob halfway down the sidewalk.
They're arguing.
Actually arguing.
Jacob's shoulders are rigid.
Bella looks frustrated.
And for some reason they're standing way too close.
I speed up.
Just in time to hear-
"You're lying."
Bella folds her arms.
"About what?"
"About what happened."
My eyebrows shoot up.
What happened?
To who?
What are we talking about?
Bella glances around quickly.
"Lower your voice."
"No."
"Jacob..."
"No."
Oh.
He's mad mad.
The kind of mad where his entire body looks wound too tight. Bella notices me approaching and immediately looks relieved. Which is suspicious. Very suspicious.
"Kylie."
"Nope."
I point between them.
"You don't get to use me as a distraction."
Bella actually looks guilty.
Interesting.
Jacob turns away abruptly.
Like he's done with the conversation.
Or trying very hard not to say something else.
"Jake."
Nothing.
He starts walking.
I grab his arm automatically.
The second my hand closes around his skin I nearly yank it back.
Holy shit.
He's burning up.
Not warm.
Not Jacob warm.
Burning.
Like he has a fever.
"Jesus."
Jacob freezes.
My eyes widen.
"Jake."
His jaw clenches immediately.
Uh oh.
"You're hot."
The second the words leave my mouth I want to launch myself into traffic.
Bella's eyes go wide.
Jacob's eyes go wide.
My eyes go wide.
Wonderful.
Fantastic.
Perfect.
I immediately correct myself.
"Temperature wise."
Neither of them says anything.
I can physically feel my soul leaving my body.
"Your skin is hot."
Somehow worse.
"Like a fever."
There.
Normal.
Recovered.
Absolutely nailed it.
Bella outright laughs.
Traitor.
I smack Jacob's arm.
"Seriously."
For a second something complicated flashes across his face.
Something almost worried.
Then it's gone.
"I'm fine."
"You are literally on fire."
"I'm not."
"You kind of are," Bella says.
"Thank you."
Jacob glares at both of us.
Then immediately looks away.
Weird.
Very weird.
Everything about the tribe boys has been weird lately.
"You're hiding something."
Jacob groans.
Bella looks away suspiciously.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Before I can interrogate either of them further, Jacob starts walking again.
✧─────────────────────✧
Jacob hasn't been responding to me.
Again.
And ain't no way we're doing this again.
No.
Absolutely not.
I already survived one Jacob disappearance.
I'm not doing a sequel.
So Bella and I decide we're going to see him. By we I mean I show up in Bella's room and announce we're leaving. Bella doesn't even argue.
Which honestly should've been my first warning sign.
It's pouring rain by the time we climb into her truck. The windshield wipers are working overtime while gray clouds swallow up the entire sky. Neither of us talks much on the drive. Mostly because we're both annoyed. Though apparently for very different reasons.
The second we pull into La Push I know something's off.
Jacob is already outside. Waiting. Like he knew we were coming. The truck barely stops before Bella is opening her door.
I climb out after her. And immediately stop walking.
What.
The.
Hell.
His hair is gone. Not completely. But gone enough. The long hair I've been yanking on and braiding and threatening to cut in his sleep for years,(as a joke I love his long hair), is gone.
Now it's short. Really short. I hate it. Actually no.
I don't.
Which is worse. Because somehow it makes his jaw look sharper. His shoulders broader. His entire face older.
Unfair. Completely unfair. Then my eyes drop lower. And things somehow get worse. He's shirtless.
Again.
Why is he always shirtless now? And wet. Rainwater slides down his chest and shoulders while his stupid new tattoo sits on one shoulder.
I blink.
A tattoo. A dumb looking tattoo. A very dumb looking tattoo.
I stare at it. Then at him. Then back at the tattoo.
"Absolutely not."
Jacob actually looks offended.
Bella ignores both of us completely.
"Why haven't you been answering me?"
She speaks first. Oh.
We're starting here.
Immediately.
Great.
I fold my arms and step back slightly while they launch into an argument.
Or whatever this is.
Honestly after about thirty seconds I stop paying attention.
Not intentionally.
My brain just gets distracted.
Because first of all, Jacob has apparently been hanging out with Bella without me.
Repeatedly.
Which I only learned because Bella casually mentioned it on the drive over like it was common knowledge.
Apparently they've been working on motorcycles together on their own.
Talking.
Meeting up.
Having entire conversations.
Without me.
So that's great.
Love that.
Second of all, their argument is weird.
Really weird.
They're standing way too close.
Talking way too intensely.
Interrupting each other every five seconds.
Honestly it sounds less like a fight and more like a breakup.
Which would make sense.
Except they're not dating.
As far as I know.
Hopefully.
My attention drifts back just in time to hear...
"Why are you doing this?" Bella demands.
Jacob looks away.
His jaw clenches.
Then he says, "Because I'm not a nice guy anymore."
Silence.
I stare at him.
Bella stares at him.
Rain pours around us.
And then...
I snort.
I can't help it.
The sound escapes before I can stop it.
Because that is genuinely the cheesiest thing I've ever heard in my entire life.
Jacob's head immediately snaps toward me.
"What?"
I gesture vaguely.
"That."
"What?"
"'I'm not a nice guy anymore.'" I mimic dramatically. "Who says that?"
Bella actually looks at me like my head's chopped off.
Traitor.
Jacob glares.
I keep going.
"No seriously. That's what villains say right before they get defeated by friendship."
His glare deepens.
"My Jacob could never not be good."
The words leave my mouth casually.
Automatic.
The way they've always felt.
Because it's true.
Jacob Black is a lot of things.
Stubborn.
Annoying.
Dramatic.
A menace.
But not bad.
Never bad.
For a second nobody says anything.
The rain falls.
Bella goes oddly quiet.
And Jacob just...
Stares at me.
The amusement drains from my face slowly.
Because something shifts.
His expression changes.
His eyes lock onto mine.
Really lock onto mine.
Like he's seeing me for the first time all over again.
The air suddenly feels strange.
Heavy.
His nostrils flare.
I blink.
"...Jacob?"
His entire body goes rigid.
I scrunch my eyebrows together.
Confused.
What is happening?
Bella looks confused too.
Actually no.
Bella looks horrified.
Which is significantly worse.
"Jake?"
His eyes never leave mine.
For one bizarre second everything feels frozen.
Nobody moves.
Nobody speaks.
Then Jacob turns.
And runs.
Not walks.
Not storms off.
Runs.
Into the woods.
Gone in seconds.
I stare after him.
The rain soaks through my jacket.
My brain struggles to catch up.
✧─────────────────────✧
Jacob has been MIA.
Again.
Seriously.
Again. He ran off into the woods and what...fell in a hole?
You can't keep doing this to me, Jacob.
The first few days I try to be reasonable about it. People get sick. People get busy. People have lives outside of me.
Apparently.
But by day four I'm pacing around my room like a crazy person.
By day five I've called his house enough times that Billy probably recognizes the sound of my voice before I even say hello.
Everything was fine.
Everything was finally fine.
I got Jacob back.
Bella was doing better.
My car was almost done.
For one brief shining moment I thought maybe the universe would stop throwing things at me.
Then whatever happened at the movies happened. And we yelled at each other out in the rain.
Jacob vanished into the woods.
And now we're here again.
I flop backwards across my bed and stare at the ceiling.
Ever since Bella showed up everything has been changing.
I love her.
I really do.
But fuck man.
Nothing stays still anymore.
Jacob disappeared.
Then he came back.
Bella became my sister.
Edward left.
Bella fell apart.
Jacob got weird.
Everyone keeps having secrets.
And every time I think I've figured out the rules, somebody changes them.
My phone sits beside me.
I stare at it.
Then grab it.
Again.
The number practically dials itself at this point.
The phone rings.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then-
"Hello?"
Billy.
I immediately sit up.
"Billy."
A sigh.
The kind adults make when they're about to deal with nonsense.
"Hey kid."
"Where's Jacob?"
Silence.
Interesting. Very interesting.
I narrow my eyes at absolutely nobody.
"Billy."
"He's sick."
I pause.
"Sick?"
"Yep."
"With what?"
Another pause.
Long enough to be suspicious.
Then-
"Mono."
I blink. Mono? That's it?
All this drama because he has mono?
Actually that tracks.
Jacob would absolutely turn a normal illness into a full-scale disappearance.
"Mono?"
"Doctor says he needs rest."
I stare at the wall.
Then at my phone.
Then back at the wall.
Because honestly?
That makes sense.
He's been acting weird.
Running hot enough to cook breakfast.
Randomly disappearing.
Okay.
Fine.
Mono.
Reasonable.
Except...
I've taken care of him every single time he's gotten sick since we were kids. Every time. The flu. Food poisoning.
That one time he ate something questionable at a bonfire and spent three days complaining about it.
Every single time.
Also what was he doing out in the rain...That had to have made it worse right?
"Can I come see him?"
Billy is quiet.
Too quiet.
Suspiciously quiet.
"I don't know if that's a good idea."
"Why?"
"Because he's sick."
"That's how being sick works."
Billy sighs.
"Kid."
"No."
I sit up straighter.
"Mono is shared through bodily fluids."
The silence on the other end becomes deafening. I continue anyway.
"It's not like he's gonna kiss me."
Dead silence.
Absolute.
Dead.
Silence.
I blink.
"...Billy?"
A noise escapes him.
A strangled noise.
Like he's actively choking on a laugh.
Oh.
Oh no.
Wait.
No.
That's not what I meant.
"That's not what I-"
Billy is definitely laughing now.
"Oh my God."
"Stop."
"I'm not saying anything."
"You are laughing."
"I am."
I drop my head into my hands.
This is a nightmare.
An actual nightmare.
Eventually Billy manages to recover.
Mostly.
"Look."
His voice softens slightly.
"I know you're worried."
The embarrassment fades immediately. Because I am worried. More worried than I want to admit.
"Then let me see him."
Another pause.
"He needs rest."
"Billy."
"He really does."
I groan dramatically. The sound echoes through my room.
"You're both impossible."
"That's probably true."
I sigh.
Then softer.
"Is he okay?"
The question slips out before I can stop it. Because that's the real issue.
Not mono. Not the phone calls. Not the frustration. I just want to know he's okay. Billy's answer comes immediately.
"Yeah."
My shoulders relax. Just a little.
"He's okay."
Not perfect. Not enough.
But okay. And right now I'll take okay. After we hang up I stare at my phone for a long moment.
✧─────────────────────✧
Guys, did Tumblr always have a block limit, or have I just been writing really short fics until now? Oopsies again ran out of room but this was supposed to be with what came out yesterday. hehe hope you enjoy. She'll finally know the truth next part.
Tag list:@loversonne @mrsabbotthankya @bearballerina44 @louisianalady @samuelseoswife @tcapter @uhhitaintme101
Jacob stepped out first, still holding your hand behind him as he led you down the hallway. You looked warm and flushed and a little dazed in the way people looked after being kissed too much.
Jacob looked smug about it but not in an arrogant way, just quietly satisfied.
You both walked close together, shoulders brushing as you murmured to each other under your breath. You laughed softly at something Jacob whispered, ducking your head shyly while he grinned down at you he couldn’t help himself.
The living room noticed immediately as you two passed. Rachel smiled automatically at the sight. Rebecca tried and failed to hide her grin. Billy looked deeply pleased. Paul felt something hot and unpleasant twist low in his chest.
Jacob’s fingers stayed laced through yours as he guided you toward the kitchen like it was instinctive, protective.
You glanced up at Jacob while you two walked, still smiling faintly to yourself and Paul recognized that expression immediately.
Love daze.
The kind where someone stopped fully noticing the world around them because they were too wrapped up in another person. You never looked at him like that. He thought the daze you looked at him was something but it had nothing on this.
Rachel leaned slightly against Paul’s shoulder as they watched them disappear into the kitchen.
“They’re cute.” she murmured to him. Rebecca chortles quietly as she’s bunched by Solomon’s side.
Paul kept staring toward the kitchen entrance. Toward Jacob’s hand still resting low against your back after you stopped walking.
Rachel shifted comfortably against him. “I think I’m just gonna crash at your place tonight.”
Tonight, every request suddenly felt irritating for reasons he couldn’t explain without sounding insane.
He forced his voice even anyway. “Alright.”
Rachel looked up briefly, studying him again, “You okay?”
Paul nodded once, “Just tired.”
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Jacob immediately reached for the leftover dessert container sitting near the counter.
“You made these,” he reminded you seriously, opening it. “Which means they belong to me.”
You laughed softly, “That’s not how sharing works.”
“It is in this house.”
He handed you a brownie piece anyway before taking one himself.
You leaned against the counter beside him while you both ate quietly, close enough that you and his hips brushed every few seconds.
Every time you thought about it, the claim that Jacob made, your stomach flipped embarrassingly again.
Jacob noticed you zoning out while eating your brownie.
“You’re doing the thing.”
“What thing?”
“The staring into space thing.”
“I’m just looking at you.”
He twitched a smile, “You like looking at me?”
You laughed quietly and Jacob’s expression softened instantly at the sound, “Yes.”
Instead of kissing your mouth this time, he pressed a soft kiss against your cheek.
The affection in it caught you off guard more than the heated kisses somehow.
When you looked back up at him afterward, Jacob was already watching you with that unbearably fond expression again.
Then footsteps approached. You startled instantly and turned toward the doorway just as Rebecca wandered casually into the kitchen.
“Oh good,” Rebecca said immediately as she rubbed her hands together. “The brownies survived.”
You expected Jacob to move away fast, to step back, to act awkward. Instead, he barely shifted at all.
One hand stayed resting lazily near your waist while Rebecca walked right past you two like this was completely normal, which somehow made you even shyer. Rebecca reached into the dessert container without hesitation.
Jacob looked scandalized. “Hey.”
Rebecca ignored him completely as she took a bite of a brownie piece.
“Wow. These were good.” she told you seriously.
You smiled softly. “Thanks.”
Jacob pointed accusingly. “She wasn’t supposed to get any.”
Rebecca took a huge bite directly in front of him. “That sounds like a personal problem.”
“I specifically claimed these.”
“You’re like five, Jake, I swear. You can’t ‘claim’ brownies.”
“Watch me.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes dramatically and leaned against the counter beside you like she’d known you forever. Honestly, it already kind of felt that way.
“You should hide the rest,” Rebecca advised you quietly. “He gets territorial about food.”
Jacob looked offended. “I do not.”
“You absolutely do. It seems to have gotten worse while Ive been gone, I see.” Rebecca said.
Jacob groaned loudly, “I’m a growing boy.”
“How much growing do you need to do? Soon, your head is going to grow through the roof.”
You laughed again, softer this time, and Jacob looked helplessly fond watching you do it.
Then she nudged you lightly with your shoulder.
“So,” she asked, “are you staying tonight?”
You glanced instinctively toward Jacob before answering. His attention sharpened immediately.
“Yeah,” you admitted shyly.
Rebecca smiled instantly. “Good.”
Rebecca immediately launched into another story after that, something about Jacob accidentally shaving one eyebrow when he was younger.
“Hey. Just wanted to say bye before I took off." Rachel says as moved through the room, hugging Rebecca first, then turning toward you where you stood. She just smiled and turned toward Jacob and then she punched him square in the arm. He barely blinked at it.
With that, she turned and headed out the door, leaving you standing there with your heart climbing into your throat.
Jacob watched her go, then glanced at you, his expression shifting from amusement to something softer.
You all moved to the living room as Rachel shuts the front door, Paul was already in the car. Rebecca comes out with a beer for her father. "Movie?" Rebecca asked, already reaching for the remote. "I'm thinking something with explosions. Sol's been wanting to watch that new action flick that’s streaming."
"Fine by me.” Billy agreed, taking a sip of his beer.
Rebecca clicked on the movie, and the opening credits began to roll with a dramatic orchestral swell. Solomon leaned over to Jacob. "I'll help Billy get settled when he's ready to turn in. Just holler if you need anything."
"Thanks, Sol." Jacob's hand found the small of your back, a touch so light it was barely there, but it sent a trail of heat straight through you. "Come on.” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.
He guided you down the short hallway, away from the glow of the TV and the murmured voices of his family.
You stepped inside, and he followed, closing the door behind you two with a soft click. The room felt smaller suddenly, more intimate. Your pulse quickened.
Jacob moved past you, sitting on the edge of his bed, his posture relaxed but his eyes watchful. He patted the space beside him. "Sit. You look like you're about to bolt."
You let out a shaky laugh, but you sat, your body still thrumming.
Jacob's hand found yours, his fingers warm and calloused. He didn't say anything for a moment, just let the quiet settle between you two. The sounds of the movie filtered faintly through the closed door, distant explosions, dramatic music, making your silence feel even more weighted.
Then he shifted, moving back onto the bed until he was lying on his stomach, his head propped on one arm. He looked at you and his gaze was open, patient. "You okay? I mean really okay. Not just performing."
You moved beside him, mimicking his position, lying on your stomach, your head turned toward his. The mattress dipped slightly under your combined weight, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him, that furnace like heat you’ve grown to associate with Jacob.
"I'm okay," you said and meant it, “Just… a lot to process."
He nodded slowly, his thumb stroking over your knuckles where your hands still rested together on the bedspread. "I get it."
You both lay there for a long moment, the quiet between you two, comfortable but charged with unspoken thoughts. Your mind wandered back to the way he'd looked at you like you was the only thing in the world that mattered.
Then a question surfaced, one that had been lingering in the back of your mind for months, maybe longer. You turned your head more fully toward him, your voice softer now. “Jake?”
"Hmm?"
"How come you never called to me before? When you saw me around, I mean. Before we started… this." you gestured vaguely between you two, "You never approached me. Not once."
Jacob's expression shifted, something flickering behind his eyes, regret, maybe, or restraint. He was quiet for a moment, his thumb stilling on your knuckles.
When he finally spoke, his voice was measured, thoughtful. "Because you were with Paul."
"You could have said something.” you whispered, “We all know how that worked out.”
Jacob turned his head to look at you, his dark eyes serious. "Would you have listened?"
The question was gentle, but it landed hard. You thought about who you was back then, how wrapped up you’ve been with Paul, how blind you’ve been to the cracks in your relationship until it finally shattered.
"I don't know.” you admitted.
Jacob nodded slowly, “That's why I didn't. You had to figure it out on your own. I wasn't going to be the guy who tried to poach someone else's girlfriend, even if I thought she deserved better." His lips quirked, "Patience isn't exactly my strong suit, but I figured… if it was meant to happen, it would. And when you were finally free, I'd be there."
Your heart squeezed. His words were simple, but they carried the weight of months of watching, waiting, wanting. You wondered how many times he'd seen you around and looked the other way. How many opportunities he'd let pass because he respected boundaries, even when he hated them.
"I wish you'd said something sooner.” you murmured.
Jacob's hand tightened around yours. "Me too."
You both fell into silence again, but it was different now, heavier, but also lighter.
Your mind drifted to the practicalities of the evening, and reality crashed back in. You groaned, burying your face briefly against the bedspread. "I still have to go home."
Jacob shifted, propping himself up on his elbows. "Why?"
"I didn't think… I didn't bring pajamas. Or a change of clothes. Or anything." you lifted your head, meeting his gaze with a rueful smile.
"You can wear something of mine."
Your eyes widened at the suggestion and you felt heat flood your cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. The thought of wearing his clothes, of being wrapped in his scent, his warmth, sent a thrill through you that was both innocent and deeply, deeply not.
"I-" you started, but the words tangled on your tongue.
Jacob was already moving, pushing himself off the bed and crossing to a small dresser in the corner. He pulled open a drawer and rummaged for a moment before producing a soft, worn t-shirt
“Look. Problem solved. And just go into Rach’s room and get you some shorts or something.”
“I can’t just take her clothes!” you whispered yelled. He rolled his eyes.
“It’s fine.”
"You're trouble.” you muttered, but you was smiling too.
"Yep," he agreed cheerfully, tossing the shirt onto the bed beside you, you actually caught it with one hand and you stared down at it as he continued, “The best kind.”
It was faded from countless washes, and you imagined it would smell like him.
"Fine," you said, trying to sound reluctant and failing completely. "But only because I don't want to drive home in the dark."
Jacob's grin widened and he settled back onto the bed beside you, close enough that you could feel his body heat seeping into the space between you two, “Whatever you need to tell yourself."
Outside the bedroom door, the movie's explosions continued, a distant reminder that you weren't entirely alone. There, in the small, warm room, with Jacob lying beside you and his clothes waiting for you to change into, it felt like you were in your own world.
Rachel had a lot of clothes. Like a lot. You literally just grabbed anything, making the trip to her room quick because you just didn’t know how she would react about missing a piece of clothing.
You stood in the mirror of the bathroom and a goofy smile spread across your face, you glanced down, finally processing the faded red fabric, the worn graphic stretched across the chest. Spider-Man's masked face stared back at you, the web pattern cracked and peeling from years of wear.
"Aww look at you wearing Spider-Man.” Jacob said, his voice thick with barely contained laughter.
You felt heat flood your face as you entered, “Shut up."
"I'm serious!" He held up his hands in mock surrender, but his grin was relentless. "It's cute. You're cute. Spider-Man's lucky to be on you."
You lay in comfortable silence, your shoulders almost touching. The heat radiating from his body was like a furnace beside you, and you found yourself instinctively leaning into it, seeking that warmth.
“Jake?”
"Hmm?"
"How long is Rebecca staying?"
He was quiet for a moment, his breath steady. "A few days, I think. She and Solomon wanted to visit before heading back home."
You nodded, though you wasn't sure if he could see the gesture in the dim light, “That's nice. That you all get to be together, I mean.”
"Yeah." His voice was thoughtful. "It's good. Doesn't happen often enough."
You stared at the ceiling, tracing the faint patterns of shadow and light. An unexpected wave of melancholy washed over you, gentle but insistent.
You turned your head to look at him, but his gaze was still fixed on the ceiling. His profile was strong, handsome, the slope of his nose, the line of his jaw, the thick dark hair that fell across his forehead. Jacob's hand found yours in the space between you two, his fingers warm and rough as they intertwined with yours. He squeezed gently.
You lay there for a long time, hands linked, staring at the ceiling. The movie outside had ended, replaced by the low murmur of conversation. Eventually, the house grew quieter, footsteps moving toward bedrooms, doors closing, the flick of light switches.
Jacob's breathing slowed beside you, deep and even.
You lay awake for a while longer, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. The house creaked and settled around you two, familiar sounds that felt almost like home. When sleep finally came, it was gentle, a slow slide into warmth and darkness, wrapped in Jacob's arms and the scent of his shirt.
You dreamed of nothing at all.
Morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and golden. You woke slowly, consciousness returning in fragments, the warmth of the bed, the weight of an arm across you waist, the steady sound of breathing close to your ear.
You blinked your eyes open, taking in the unfamiliar room.
Then, carefully, you slipped out from under his arm and off the bed. The morning air was cold, even when you had on socks, and you shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself.
Jacob stirred but didn't wake. His snoring continued, steady and soft.
You glanced back at Jacob one more time. He'd rolled onto his stomach in his sleep, his face half buried in the pillow.
You quietly opened the bedroom door and slipped into the hallway. The house was still, that particular quiet that only exists in the early morning. You made your way toward the living room, your footsteps soft on the wooden floors.
Rebecca was already up.
She stood in the kitchen, moving quietly between the counter and the stove. She wore comfortable pajamas. When she heard you approach, she turned, and your eyes met.
"Good morning.” she said, her voice low and warm. A small smile played on her lips.
"Good morning.” you replied, feeling your cheeks warm.
“Is Jacob still asleep?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to help me make breakfast?" she asked, her voice still quiet, considerate of the sleeping household. "I'm making pancakes. Jake’s favorite."
Your face lit up. "Yes," you said, maybe a little too eagerly. "I mean..yes, I'd love to help."
Rebecca's smile widened and she gestured to the bowl. "Come on, then. You can whisk.” You crossed the kitchen and took the whisk she offered.
The batter came together in smooth, golden ribbons as you whisked, the motion almost meditative. You poured the batter into the waiting pan, watching as it spread and began to bubble at the edges. The kitchen filled with the warm, sweet smell of cooking batter, mixing with the rich aroma of coffee that had been brewing in the corner.
"So," you ventured, flipping the first pancake with more confidence than you felt, "Everyone has mentioned Solomon surfs?" Rebecca moved beside you with practiced ease as she cooked the eggs on low heat.
Rebecca's face lit up with quiet pride. "Professionally, actually. Has for a few years now. He's sponsored by a few companies, gets to travel all over for competitions."
"That's incredible." The idea of someone making a career out of riding waves seemed almost magical, like something from a different world entirely. "So like…Where does he compete?"
"Mostly Hawaii, California, occasionally Australia." She leaned her hip against the counter as she made sure the eggs didn’t get stuck to the pan, her expression thoughtful. "We spend a lot of time on Oahu when he's training. It's beautiful there, the North Shore in winter is something else. The waves get massive, twenty, thirty feet sometimes."
You tried to imagine it. The idea of standing on a beach in Hawaii, watching waves as tall as buildings, felt like a fantasy from someone else's life.
"That sounds amazing," you murmured, almost to yourself, “I’ve never been to Hawaii.”
"You should come sometime." She nods.
"I'd love that," you admitted. "To go, I mean. Maybe not the surfing part, I don't know if I'd be any good at it, but just to see it. To be somewhere warm."
Rebecca smiled, sliding another pancake onto the stack. "Then you should. You wake up to the sound of waves every morning and the beach is actually warm…Unlike La Push.” The front door flew open with enough force to rattle the walls.
"I smell pancakes!"
You didn’t meant to, but couldn’t help the quiet laugh that rippled out of you.
Rachel's voice preceded her into the house, loud and confident, filling the space like she'd never left. She stormed through the living room and into the kitchen, her sharp eyes immediately finding Rebecca and you at the stove.
"Good morning to you too." Rebecca said dryly.
Rachel marched up to the counter, grabbed a pancake directly from the stack with her bare hand and took a massive bite. Rebecca just rolls her eyes. Telling her she messed up the perfect pile.
"Still warm," she said approvingfully, speaking with her mouth full. "Good." You couldn’t help but chuckle as you shook your head.
"That's so disgusting," Rebecca informed her. "There are plates. And forks. We're not animals."
Rachel grabbing another pancake but puts it on a plate and shrugs, "Well, some of us are.”
"Your mouth is so loud you started appearing in my dreams.” Jacob stood in the kitchen doorway, his hair a mess, you looked down in shyness as you remembered he didn’t wear a shirt. He looked groggy, but his eyes were alert, fixed on Rachel.
“So is your snores. They keep me up at night.”
"If both of you don’t sit down," Rebecca interrupted, gesturing toward the dining table with her spatula. "I'm not having you hover over my stove like vultures."
"I'm not hovering." Rachel protested. "I'm supervising."
"You're eating all the food before anyone else gets any."
Jacob caught your eye across the kitchen and smiled, that crooked, sleep warm smile that made your stomach flip.
"How long have you been up?"
"A while." you tilted your head to look up at him.
He slipped an arm around your waist. You and Jacob settled into chairs next to each other, your knees bumping under the table. You reached for the stack of pancakes, making a plate for yourself, before automatically making one for Jacob too.
Rachel dropped into the chair across from you. Solomon appeared in the doorway, Billy beside him. Both of them looked relaxed, dewey with the early morning air from the back porch. Billy's face was warm with amusement as he took in the scene, Rachel and Jacob already glaring at each other, Rebecca trying to maintain order, and you sitting quietly beside Jacob, your hand resting on his knee under the table.
"Morning," Billy said, settling into his seat. "I see Rachel found the pancakes."
"Rachel found everything," Jacob muttered. "Including the front door, apparently."
"Oh, stop whining."
Rebecca moved with quiet efficiency, pouring coffee into Billy's favorite mug, the one with the faded fishing logo that had seen better decades. She set it down beside him with a gentle clink, and Billy wrapped his weathered hands around it like he was holding something precious.
He took a long sip, his eyes closing in quiet appreciation.
Solomon talked about surfing conditions in Hawaii, describing a competition coming up in a few weeks that had him training harder than usual. Billy asked about boat maintenance, and Rachel interjected with questions about the kids, nieces and nephews you hadn't met yet, but whose names and faces were starting to blur together in your mind.
You listened, absorbing it all. The easy rhythm of their conversation, the inside jokes you didn't quite understand, the occasional jabs that landed without causing damage.
The breakfast conversation had settled into a comfortable lull. Rachel was finishing her helping of pancakes, somehow still managing to look indignant whenever Jacob made a comment about her appetite. Solomon sat quietly beside Rebecca, his presence steady and unobtrusive, occasionally reaching over to squeeze her hand when he thought no one was watching.
You was leaning into Jacob's side, his arm draped casually across your shoulders, when the front door swung open without a knock.
A moment later, Paul stepped inside. He slid off his slides at the door.
He looked like he'd just stepped out of a shower, his very short dark hair was damp. Droplets of water still clung to the broad expanse of his shoulders. His skin gleamed faintly in the morning light, catching the golden rays and highlighting the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen. He was wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts that hung dangerously low on his hips and athletic black socks.
You dropped your gaze to your plate.
“Morning.” Paul said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to fill the space without effort.
Rebecca, ever the gracious host, didn't so much as blink at his state of undress. "Good morning, Paul. There's breakfast if you're hungry, pancakes, fresh coffee. Sit down and help yourself."
“Babe, I made your plate.” Rachel says.
Paul's dark eyes swept across the table, taking in the gathered family. His gaze lingered briefly on Jacob and you, noting your proximity, the way Jacob's arm wrapped around your shoulders with casual possessiveness. Something flickered in his expression, too quick to identify, before his face settled into its usual neutral mask.
Crossing to the table with the fluid grace, he pulled out a chair across from you and Jacob and dropped into it, reaching for the stack of pancakes like he hadn't eaten in days.
You kept your eyes firmly on your plate, pushing a stray piece of pancake around with your fork.
"Paul." Jacob's voice was polite but distant, a careful acknowledgment that carried none of the warmth he'd shown the rest of his family.
"Jacob." Paul's response was equally measured. He didn't look up from his plate as he spoke, focusing instead on cutting his pancakes into precise squares.
Rachel reached over, her hand landing on his forearm in what was clearly meant to be a comforting gesture.
“Did you eat?” he asked her.
“Yes. I did.” she tells him and shows her sticky but empty plate.
"Paul, you planning to help with the boat maintenance this weekend? Jacob and I could use an extra pair of hands." Solomon asked with a friendly tone.
Paul looked up from his plate, his expression neutral. "Sure. Just tell me when."
"Tomorrow morning work?"
"Tommorow’s fine."
Rebecca rose from her seat, moving to refill the coffee pot. As she passed behind Paul's chair, she paused briefly, her hand resting on his shoulder in a gesture that was pure maternal comfort.
He accepted it, his shoulders loosening almost imperceptibly.
"Eat up," Rebecca said softly. "There's plenty more."
"Thanks.”
Paul's voice cut through your thoughts and you looked up automatically, caught off guard. His dark eyes met yours across the table, and something in his expression shifted, a softening that you might have imagined.
“Quiet like you don’t know someone.” he slightly raised his eyebrows and you looked away.
“Ah..Well…” you replied sheepishly.
“You spent the night last night?”
“Yeah.” you lifted a shoulder. He looked right at your shirt.
The conversation resumed around you both, voices overlapping in the easy rhythm of family. Billy and Solomon discussed tides and fishing schedules, their words peppered with technical terms you didn't understand. Rebecca returned to her seat, her presence a calm anchor in the midst of the chaos.
"More pancakes, anyone?" Rebecca's voice was bright, deliberately cheerful.
"I'll take another." Jacob said, lifting his empty plate.
"Me too, please." Paul added.
You slipped out from under Jacob's arm, his hand trailing down my back as you stood. You set your plate in the sink and Rachel was at your side setting hers in the sink as well.
“I have some clothes that you can change into. Just come follow me.”
You followed Rachel out of the kitchen. She pushed her bedroom door open without ceremony and gestured you inside.
She moved to a dresser and started rifling through one of the drawers.
"What are you looking for?" Rachel asked, watching your uncertain movements. "Something comfortable, I'm guessing."
"Comfortable would be good."
She reached past you and pulled out a plain white t shirt, soft from countless washes, and a pair of cargo shorts.
"Thank you.” you said, holding the clothes against your chest.
Rachel nodded toward the corner of the room, "Just change in here or... Or go back to Jacob's room, but honestly, who cares?” you both chuckled.
You pulled on the white t shirt first. It was soft against your skin, the cotton worn thin in places, and it smelled faintly of detergent, something floral and clean. You were shocked by how you two were literally the same size.
You both walked together down the hallway after you came out while she waited outside the door for you. The sounds of the kitchen growing louder as you two approached, voices overlapping, the clatter of dishes, Billy's warm laugh at something Solomon had said, normal sounds, family sounds.
Rachel veered toward the living room, settling onto the worn couch in front of the television.
“We can watch TV for a bit." She grabbed the remote and flipped through channels until she landed on a reality show, something about an expensive city, all designer clothes and manufactured drama.
You sat beside her. The couch cushions were soft, the fabric smooth against your bare legs.
On screen, two women were screaming at each other over something trivial, lunch reservations, maybe, or a perceived slight at a party. The drama was absurd, the kind of conflict that could only exist in the heightened reality of television.
As you both watched, you felt yourself relaxing. Rachel laughed at something ridiculous on screen, a real laugh this time, and you found yourself joining in as you both were locked in as if it were something genuinely important.
You both were still giggling when Jacob came in through the doorway.
“Don’t fill her head with this crap.”
“Oh my god, we’re bonding Jacob. Go away.”
He sat in the loveseat near the couch. The argument on TV escalated, and Rachel made another sharp comment, and you chuckled again. The reality television droned on in the background, two women arguing over a restaurant reservation that had apparently been made under false pretenses. Jacob shifted, pulling his phone from his pocket with a reluctant sigh. His eyes scanned the screen.
"Everything alright, Jake?"
"Yeah, I just gotta head in. Sam...needs me to take over his shift. I can give you a lift home before I go in." Jacob stands up. Rachel immediately sat up straighter, her attention snapping away from the television.
"Y/N just got comfortable. She's finally relaxing."
"It's okay, I can go home," you said quietly, "I dont want to cause trouble."
"No, you're not causing trouble." Rachel's hand landed on your knee, "You're staying and we're watching this."
Before Jacob could respond, Rebecca's voice varried from the doorway. Her expression was calm but curious as she took in the scene on the couch.
"Staying for what?" she asked.
"Jake's gotta leave and I told him Y/N should stay here until he gets back." Rachel explains.
Rebecca's gaze moved between you two.
"I can drop her off on the way." Jacob's voice careful.
"And waste gas?" Rebecca chuckled, "She's already here. It makes zero sense to shuttle her back and forth when she can just hang out with us." Rebecca says as she moved further into the livngroom, settling into the armchair across from the smaller couch, "It would be nice, actually. The three of us, we could watch more of this.." she gestured towards the television where the reality show cut to a confessional interview.
You looked at Jacob, trying to read his expression.
"So.. what do you say, you wanna stay with them and watch this crap?"
"Yeah." you smiled. He smiled back.
"They really brainwashed you."
You chuckled as you shake your head.
"I want to stay..If you're okay with that."
Jacob squeezed your hand, "Okay," he says quietly, "I'll come back as soon as I can. Should only be a few hours."
"No rush Jake. We'll be fine."
Rebecca nodded in agreement, her smile warm and encouraging, "We'll take good care of her Jake. Promise."
He stretched his long frame with a resigned sigh. You followed him as he moved toward the front door. Behind you, you heard Rachel and Rebecca exchange comments about the show, their voices fading into comfortable background noise.
The air was slightly cool when you stepped outside, carrying the scent of damp earth. Jacob's rabbit sat in the driveway, its paint gleaming dully in the overcast light. He stopped on the porch as you shut the door behind you. He turned to face you with an expression you couldn't quite read.
"I should be back by dinner," he said his voice low, "Maybe earlier if Sam lets me go."
"Okay..I'll be here."
He kissed your forehead, then your nose, then finally your mouth. It was a soft gentle press of lips that felt like a promise. You melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck, you realized he still didnt have on a shirt. The kiss deepened slowly, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips until you opened for him, letting him in. Your head went fuzzy.
His warmth surrounded you, his hands were sliding down to grip your waist, pulling you closer. You felt dizzy, drunk on the taste of him. Every brush of his lips sent sparks down your spine, you clung to him like he was the only solid thing in a spinning world.
When you two finally broke apart, you was breathless and your lips were swollen and tingling. His eyes had gone dark, you could see the effort it took for him to step back.
"I really need to go." he said, his voice rough.
"I know." you whispered.
He kissed you once more, quick and fierce, and then he was stepping off the porch but you held onto his arm until you couldnt anymore. You watched him go down the driveway, still feeling the ghost of his touch.
"Hey," you called out, "Why aren't you taking the Rabbit?"
He paused, glancing back at you over his shoulder, "Walking distance," he said with a shrug, "Sam's place is in the woods anyway. Can't exactly drive up to the door."
"No shirt." you chuckled a bit.
He looked down as if it just dawned on him. "I change when I get there."
"Be safe." you said.
"Always."
He was gone, loping into the trees with an easy grace that made him seem almost weightless. You stood on the porch until he disappeared from your view. Your heart was still racing from the kiss, your body was still humming with warmth.
You finally turned back toward the house, you stepped back inside, letting the warmth of the house wrap around you. Behind you, the door clicked shut.
Paul's voice cut through the livingroom like a blade, your stomach dropped.
"You coming?"
You've been half watching the television, your mind still fuzzy from Jacob's kiss when Paul has appeared in the doorway.
"Im staying. Im busy." Rachel didnt move from her spot from the end of the couch. She had a throw blanket that she was sharing with you.
"Busy with what?" Paul asked.
"Watching tv." she gestured at the screen. Where the reality show women were now arguing over something involving a charity event.
"Alright. I'll stay since you're staying."
"But you have you be quiet. We're at a critical part." she said as he crossed the room in three long strides. He pulled the throw blanket from Rachel and piled it on you and dropped onto the couch between you and Rachel. The cushion dipped sharply under his weight and you found yourself smushed, your hip pressing against he armrest.
"Paul-" Rachel started.
"Im way warmer than a blanket, you know this." he stretched his arm behind Rachel's shoulders, the other stretch along the back of the couch, the touched grazed the back of your neck. The contacvt was thoughtless. His arm was a heavy weighr behind you, not quite touchimg but you could feel the heat radiating off him. On your other side, Rachel leaned into Paul's side, tucking herself against him. You was trying desperately to focus on the television.
The reality show blurred into nonsense. The women in deisgner clothes shouted at each other about betrayal you couldnt follow. Their voices rising and falling in a rhythm, you couldnt track.
"Who's the blonde?" Paul asked, nodding at the scene where the woman was crying dramtically.
"Which one?" Rachel's voice was muffled against his chest, "There's like twelve of them."
"I meant the one having a breakdown. What's her deal?"
"She's mad because they didnt tell her about the trip."
"What trip?"
Rachel sighed but there was no real annoyance in it, if anything, she sounded almost pleased to be explkaining something to him, "The girl's trip to Cabo. Everyone knew aboiut it except her so now she thinks she was left out on purpose."
"Shit, I would think the same too."
You looked at him and a second later, he looked at you, his eyes met yours. He looks back at the television without a word. You sat there, rigid and uncomfortable, trying to focus on women arguing about a trip to Cabo.
"You're like stiff as a board." Paul's voice was low, rumbling through his chest. He nudged your leg with yours.
You stiffened further. "Maybe you should move over," your voice coming out sharp, "You're taking up half the couch."
Paul lapped unaffected. "Am I?"
"Yes."
"Huh." he didnt move. If anything, he pressed further into the cushions, his shoulder brushing against yours more firmly, "Doesn't feel like Im taking up that much space."
"Dude." you groan as you push his shoulder with your palm, but he didnt budge at all.
"What?" he was staring at you, his gaze ws intense. You froze. It was the same way he used to look at you, back when things were good. Back before you realized they werent.
"Forget it." you muttered dropping your gaze to your lap.
On your other side, Rachel made a sound of impatience. "Both of you..shhh.. Im trying to watch this."
The show continued with the drama escalating. Someone threw a glass of wine, Paul cackled at that. Someone else stormed out the resturant, the dramtic music swells, Rebecca made a sound of vindicated satisfaction.
"Oh yeah, she totally set her up."
"Seems like a lot of drama over nothing." Paul replied.
"Thats the point. It's drama for drama's sake." Rachel says.
"Sounds exhausting.” he sighed.
"It's delightful." Rachel says.
The afternoon stretched on, the reality show episode bleeding into the next. Paul didn't leave. Rachel didn't let go. Solomon and Billy ended up hogging the tv by putting on a thriller when they joined everyone.
You escaped down the hallway with your hands in the pockets of your shorts, your sock covered feet soft against the worn wooden floors. The afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting long rectangles of gold across the walls, but all you could think about was getting away, from the couch, from the television, from the press of Paul's body against yours.
Jacob's door was still ajar from this morning. You slipped inside, exhaling shakily as you softly close your eyes. His scent surrounded you immediately, something inherently warm and you felt your shoulders drop for the first time in hours. You made plans to shuffle to his warm, comfortable bed but a voice made you freeze in your tracks.
"Running away?"
Your closed eyes flew open. You turn around.
Paul stood in the doorway, one shoulder braced against the frame, his dark eyes fixed on you with intensity, something in his expression was razor sharp.
"How did you-” you shook your head, “I didn't even hear you follow me."
"You weren't listening." He straightened, stepping fully into the room and looked around unimpressed at Jacob’s room, "You were too busy fleeing."
"I wasn't fleeing. I just needed-"
"What?" He took a step closer, his voice low. "A break from pretending I don't exist?"
Your back pressed harder against the door. “Paul-”
"You don't have to do that, you know." Another step. He was close now, too close. Close enough that his body heat washed over you like a wave. You clench your jaw.
“Pretend what?” you spoke. Paul always smelled good. It was one of the first things you would say after hugging him from not seeing him for so long. You wished he would stink right now.
“Pretend like we didn’t do anything. Try to forget about us.”
"We're not anything anymore." The words came out strangled, breathless. "We haven't been for months."
His dark eyes bored into yours. "Have you…forgotten?"
"I'm with Jacob."
"I know." His voice was flat.
"Then why are you here?" you demanded, "Why did you follow me?"
"Because you left." His jaw tightened.
“Well, I would like it if you left.” you move and grip the door but he doesn’t move out the way.
He reached out and before you could react, his finger had hooked through the belt loop of your borrowed shorts. The touch was light, casual, but it felt like a brand. He tugged gently on the loop, pulling you a fraction of an inch closer. You scoff in surprise.
“What’s your deal?” he asked.
"I..I'm angry." you frowned deeply.
"Yeah?" His voice dropped lower, rougher. "At me?"
"Yes.” you hiss. The words were fueled by weeks of suppressed hurt and confusion. "Yes, I'm angry at you. You broke up with me. You were doing all of the forgetting first.”
His expression flickered, a crack in that careful mask.
"You ended things after you lied to me about where you was going, if it weren’t for Leah inviting me to that bonfire, I wouldn’t have known you stabbed me in the front,” you continued, "You looked at me one day and decided I wasn't worth the effort anymore. You didn't even have the decency to even explain why."
He shook his head, “See-"
"What was wrong with me?" The question voice always wanted to know the answer to, tore out of you, raw and exposed. You hated how vulnerable you sounded, how much the answer still mattered after all this time. "What did I do that made you not want me anymore?"
Something shifted in Paul's face. The careful neutrality crumbled, replaced by an expression so raw and haunted that your next breath stuttered in your chest.
"Wrong with you?" His voice was barely above a whisper, rough like gravel. "There was nothing wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
"Then why-”
"Because I had to." His free hand came up, his palm firmly cradling the side of your face. The touch was gentle, almost possessive it made your eyes burn. It brought back many memories, memories of how he held your cheek before he would give you a heated kiss that would’ve made you flushed for the next 24 hours, "Because staying with you would have absolutely destroyed you."
He then unhooked his finger and turned, his back to you. His shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath.
“That doesn’t even make sense.” you whispered brokenly.
"For what it's worth," he said quietly, "I am sorry. For everything. If it were up to me, our futures wouldn’t be separated.” He then slowly walked away and back into the living room that was filled with chatters. You close the door.
The afternoon light had shifted, casting long shadows across the floor. Outside the window, you could hear the distant sound of waves against the shore, the faint rustle of wind through the trees.
You laid on your stomach, resting your chin on your folded arms with your legs crossed. You rolled onto your side, pressing your face into Jacob's pillow. His scent surrounded you, grounding and familiar, and you felt some of the tension in your chest begin to ease.
Your eyes drifted shut, the weight of the afternoon finally catching up with you. Jacob's pillow was soft against your cheek, his scent wrapping around you like a blanket, and you felt yourself sinking into sleep.
A gentle touch on your shoulder pulled you from dreams you couldn't remember.
"Hey." Rebecca's voice was soft, pitched low to avoid startling you.
“Hi.” you whisper. "What time is it?" you mumbled, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. You blinked your eyes open, disoriented for a moment by the unfamiliar ceiling before remembering where you was. Jacob's room. Right. The afternoon nap had left you groggy, your limbs heavy
“Almost six." Rebecca smiled, her expression warm, "Rachel said Jake should be back soon. Do you want to help me with dinner? Or even just hang with me in the kitchen..?”
The mention of Jacob's name sent a flutter through your chest, and you swung your legs off the bed with renewed energy. "Yes. I mean..yes, I'd love to help."
Rebecca's smile widened slightly at your eagerness, but she didn't comment on it. She just stepped back, allowing you to rise and follow her toward the door.
When you both entered the kitchen, Rachel was already there, leaning against the counter.
"Sleeping beauty awakes," she said, "How was your nap?"
"Fine." you moved toward the counter, positioning yourself next to Rachel. "What can I do?" you asked. Rebecca pushed a cutting board and a knife toward you and Rachel along with a pile of carrots and bell peppers. “I don't have the energy for anything fancy."
Rachel pushed off from the counter, wandering over to peer into the pot Rebecca had set on the stove.
"You're making me hungry." Rachel complained, though she made no move to help.
"You could always contribute.” Rebecca pointed out mildly.
"I'm supervising."
"You're hovering."
"Same thing." Rachel grabbed a bell pepper from the pile, slicing it open and began deseeding it with practiced efficiency, despite her protests. "Fine. I'll help. But only because I'm bored."
"So," Rebecca said, her voice casual as she stirred something in a bowl, "I was thinking we could all go see a movie tomorrow. Before I have to head back home."
“Alright.” you agree.
"A movie?" Rachel looked up from her bell pepper. "What kind of movie? Don’t pick something lame.”
"Alright, Rachel,” Rebecca shrugged. "It's been a while since we all did something together, and I leave day after tomorrow."
“Oh yeah. While the boys are spending their morning fix boring boats.” Rachel adds snickering at that.
"Boats and fishing," Rebecca agreed. "And engine maintenance. I've learned more about outboard motors in the past few years than I ever wanted to know."
Footsteps echoed through the house, heavy and familiar, and your heart rate picked up before you even saw him.
"Hey," Jacob murmured, his voice rough. "Sorry I was gone so long."
“That’s alright. You’re here now.”
Jacob dropped into his usual chair at the table, you stood next to him.
"How was your day?" you asked, keeping your voice light. "You didn't work too hard, did you?"
Jacob's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "It was fine. Long. But fine."
"You look exhausted."
"I'm okay." He reached for your hand under the table, squeezing gently. "Just tired. Double shifts will do that."
A smile tugged at your lips despite your concern.
"Geez Jake. You have leaves in your hair." you said, reaching up to pluck one out.
Jacob caught your hand, his expression shifting into something sheepish. "I do?”
"Several. Were you rolling around on the forest floor, or...?"
The others began filtering into the dining room, Billy wheeling himself in from the back porch, Solomon appearing behind him, Rachel dropping into the chair across from you two.
You was passing the pepper to Rachel when you happened to glance toward the doorway. Paul was entering the kitchen. You looked away quickly, your face burning, and focused on passing the pepper shaker to Rachel.
"Thanks," she said, her eyes flickering and landing on Paul, “I already made your plate, come sit down.” she invited sappily.
Around you, conversation flowed, Paul was sliding into the empty chair next to Rachel with the kind of fluid grace that seemed almost supernatural.
Next to you, Jacob was already finishing his second helping, his fork scraping against the blue plate you set in front of him earlier.
"So," Rebecca said, breaking the comfortable silence. She'd been quiet through most of dinner, her presence a steady anchor at the head of the table. "I was telling the girls earlier that we should all go see a movie tomorrow. Before I have to head back."
Billy looked up from his plate, interest flickering across his weathered features. "A movie? What's playing?"
"I don't know yet. Something fun." Rebecca shrugged, a small smile playing at her lips.
Billy chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. "That sounds nice, Bec. You all should go."
"You know what this means, right?" you say to Jacob.
He raised an eyebrow, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth. "What?"
"You and Solomon are going to be stuck fixing boats while we're out having fun. Aha.” you tease.
Jacob rolled his eyes without any heat, “Whatever. You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Rachel launched into a complaint about some issue with her car, and Billy offered advice that sounded half practical, half impossible.
And through it all, you were aware, hyper aware, of Paul sitting across from you. He hadn't said anything since sitting down. He'd eaten his dinner with his movements unhurried and deliberate. His dark eyes had been fixed on his plate for most of the meal, his expression unreadable.
But now, as the conversation flowed around you, you could feel his gaze.
It wasn't obvious. If you hadn't been looking, you wouldn't have noticed. But every now and then, when you laughed at something Jacob said, or when you leaned into his side, you would catch Paul's eyes on you. Studying and assessing like he was trying to figure something out.
You kept your attention focused on Jacob, on the warmth of his hand on your knee, on the familiar comfort of being here at this table with these people. But your skin prickled with awareness, that traitorous part of you that still responded to Paul's presence even when your heart knew better.
He was looking at you now. You could feel it like heat against your cheek.
Rachel said something about the movie options, and Rebecca replied with a suggestion about checking showtimes, and you nodded along, trying to keep your expression natural. Jacob's thumb traced another circle on your knee, and you let yourself sink into that touch, let it anchor you.
Then Paul shifted in his chair.
It was a small movement, just a slight adjustment of his posture, but it drew your attention despite yourself. His broad shoulders rolled back, his spine straightening against the wooden chair. He was still eating, his fork moving between his plate and his mouth with mechanical precision, but his eyes were still fixed on you.
Not on Rachel, who sat inches away from him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. Not on his food, or on the table, or on any of the other people in the room.
On you.
You felt your face heat, a flush creeping up your neck and spreading across your cheeks. It wasn't fair.
He was just looking. Like he was committing your face to memory. Like he was cataloguing every detail, every expression, every laugh line.
"You're not even listening, are you?" Jacob accused, his tone teasing.
"I am," you lied. "Something about... engines?"
"Propellers," he corrected, grinning. "And how they're definitely going to give us trouble."
"Ah. Propellers. My favorite topic."
“So what movie are we seeing?" Rachel asked, breaking through your spiraling thoughts.
"I don't know yet." Rebecca pulled out her phone, scrolling through something. "Let me check what's playing at the theater in Port Angeles."
"Nothing scary," Rachel said immediately. "I refuse to spend two hours jumping at every shadow."
“What?? I love scary movies.” you say to Rachel.
Paul snorted quietly but you forced your face to stay neutral.
“Oh, nah. I can’t do them.” Rachel shook her head.
“Yeah cause she’ll wet the bed.” Jacob says
“Dude, shut up.”
“You shut up.”
“No, you.”
“No, you.”
"I'm thinking action," Rebecca announced, to get them out of their bantering. "Something with explosions. Very little thinking required."
"Perfect," Rachel approved. "Y/N?"
"Sounds good to me." you shrugged. "Here," you said quietly to Jacob, reaching for Jacob's empty plate along with your own. "Let me help clear."
Jacob looked at you with a small frown, like he sensed something was off but couldn't quite place it. "You don't have to-”
"I want to." you pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek before standing, plates in hand.
The kitchen felt like stepping into cool water after the heat of the dining room. The sounds of conversation faded to a comfortable murmur as you crossed to the sink, running the water and letting it warm over your fingers. You breathed and focused on breathing. You let the tension in your shoulders ease, letting the warmth of the water ground you in the present moment.
You was scrubbing Jacob's plate when footsteps echoed behind you.
"Hey." Rachel's voice was casual as she set her own plate next to yours in the sink. "You okay? You left pretty fast."
"Oh, I'm fine," you said automatically. "Just wanted to help."
She leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching you rinse the soap from the ceramic. "I have some pajamas you could borrow. Clean ones, obviously. Way more comfortable than sleeping in those borrowed clothes." She gestured vaguely at your outfit.
You came over yesterday afternoon expecting to spend a few hours with Jacob, maybe grab dinner, and then head home. Instead, you’ve been caught in the undertow of this family, swept up in their warmth, their chaos, their unapologetic way of making space for you without asking permission.
"I didn't bring anything.” you said weakly.
"Y/N." Rachel's voice softened, losing some of its usual sharp edge, “That's literally what I'm saying. I have pajamas. I have clothes you can borrow tomorrow. It’s fine.”
"I don't want to impose," you said quietly. “You're already doing so much. Rebecca's leaving soon, and you probably want family time without-”
She chuckled a bit, looking genuinely confused, “What? Don’t piss me off..You are family.”
Before you could respond, more footsteps echoed. Rebecca appeared, carrying her plate and Solomon's, her expression warm and curious as she took in the scene, you at the sink, Rachel leaning against the counter, the tension in your shoulders.
"Am I interrupting something?" she asked mildly.
"Trying to convince Y/N to just spend another night," Rachel said. "She's being stubborn about it."
Rebecca's face softened. She moved to set the plates in the sink, then turned to face you fully, "You should stay. We're making cookies tonight, Rachel's going to Paul's later, but before that, we could all bake together.”
"Cookies?" you repeated, grasping for something concrete to hold onto.
"Chocolate chip or peanut butter. Your choice." Rebecca smiled, that warm, knowing smile that made you feel seen in ways you couldn't articulate. "I found a bunch of mixes in the pantry. Figured we might as well use them before I leave."
You swallowed hard. "I didn't plan on staying another night. I didn't think-”
"That's the beauty of it," Rachel interrupted. "You don't have to plan. You just stay.”
"I don't want to be in the way."
"You're not in the way." Rebecca chuckled at that the thought of you thinking so.
Rachel nodded in agreement. "Plus, Jacob's probably going to crash hard after his double shift. You staying means you get to witness him being a useless lump of exhaustion tomorrow morning."
A laugh escaped you, "A useless lump?"
“Total lump.” Rachel confirmed, a grin spreading across her sharp features.
"What about Billy?" you asked, grasping for any remaining excuse. "Won't it be too much noise, too many people-”
"Dad loves having a full house," Rebecca assured you. "He'll probably try to recruit you for a card game or convince you to listen to his latest fishing story.”
"Okay," you said finally, your voice rough. "I'll stay."
"Good." Rachel pushed off from the counter, her expression shifting from persuasive to triumphant.
Rebecca's arm wrapped around your shoulders while Rachel's circled your waist, pulling you into an embrace. You froze for a heartbeat, caught off guard by the contact. Then something in you cracked open, and you found yourself melting into the hug, letting yourself be held by these two sisters.
Rebecca squeezed your shoulder one more time before moving toward the pantry. "Now, let me find that cookie mix. I know I saw it in here somewhere..."
She rummaged through the shelves, pushing aside boxes of pasta and cans of soup. Rachel leaned against the counter next to you, her shoulder brushing yours in a casual, companionable way.
"Found them!" Rebecca emerged with several boxes of cookie mix, holding them up like trophies. "Chocolate chip, peanut butter, and oh, sugar cookies too. We're spoiled for choice."
"Definitely peanut butter," Rachel said immediately. "Those are Paul's favorite."
Your stomach dropped. The words landed wrong, scraping against a memory you tried to bury. Peanut butter wasn't Paul's favorite.
His favorite were chocolate chip.
You knew because he got on your nerves in the past about constantly making them for him. Back when things were good.
You didn't say any of this. You stood there, forcing your expression to stay neutral, while Rachel chatted about Paul's preferences like she knew them intimately.
"Paul loves anything with peanut butter," Rachel continued, oblivious to the weight pressing against your ribs, “Peanut butter cookies, Reese’s, peanut butter on toast. Yeah, he's obsessed."
Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know that."
"He hides it well." Rachel's smile flickered with something of pride, a bit of possession. "But I've learned a lot about him over the past few months."
You turned to the wet dishes that belonged to you and Jacob’s. You dried them with a dish towel before setting the plates in the cupboard. Reese’s wasn’t even his favorite chocolate bar. He barely ate chocolate bars because he liked baked goods the most. If he did eat a chocolate bar, it was rare, but it was always Hershey’s. It was simple and classic. His words to be exact. He hated Hershey’s with almonds.
Rebecca decided, pulling down a mixing bowl. "We'll make both. Peanut butter and chocolate chip. Options are good. Plus, Jake will have a hissy fit if there isn’t chocolate chip.”
Rachel moved to help Rebecca gather ingredients, pulling eggs from the refrigerator while you dried the wet spots on the counter from the dish washing.
"Okay," Rebecca said, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts. She set the chocolate chip mix on the counter in front of you. "You're on cookie duty. Rachel and I will handle the peanut butter ones. Fair?"
"Fair.” you agreed, grateful for something to do with your hands.
You all worked in companionable silence for a while, the three of you moving around each other in the small kitchen with surprising ease. You cracked eggs into the bowl while Rebecca softened butter in the microwave and Rachel measured out ingredients. The smell of baking soon filled the air, warm and sweet, and you felt something inside you slowly settle.
Tonight, you would stay. Tomorrow, you’d go to the movies with Rebecca and Rachel, and Jacob would work on boats with Solomon and Billy. Eventually, Paul would fade into the background, becoming nothing more than a distant memory of a relationship that had never really been what you wanted. You hoped.
"Hey." Rachel's voice pulled you back. She stood next to you, her hand landing briefly on your arm. "You okay? You spaced out."
You blinked, forcing an easy going smile, “Fine. Just thinking about these cookies.”
"They're going to be delicious," Rebecca said warmly, sliding the first tray into the oven. "The best cookies we've ever made."
Rachel snorted. "Bold claim. Remember that time when we were younger on Christmas Eve, you burned the sugar cookies to actual charcoal?"
Omg idk if you remember this but you made a Paul fic called where do we go and it was so good and I have no idea if you’d be up to making a part two but I am so invested in your writing for him either way
yes yes I can make part two for this <3 i’m lowkey ashamed that i never made a part two for that ! hope you enjoy :)
where do we go - paul lahote x reader
<<part one
That was the first night you dreamt of Paul Lahote. You lied in bed, staring at your ceiling in a daze as you thought back to his smile, his wit, his personality.
“Pretty”
His words echoed in your head like a public service announcement. Paul Lahote thought you were pretty.
You turned to your side with a soft sigh as you tried to understand what about him was “bad news”. He seemed nice, very nice.
Harmless even.
But then again you didn’t know him. Jacob was your friend. You replayed those echoing warnings in your head.
You sat up and got ready for your day. Your phone rings after you sit down on the bed after cleaning your teeth.
“What’s up, Jake.” you answer.
“You tryna go to the movies tonight?”
“Hm…Maybe.”
“Just say yes. I’ll pick you up at 8, alright?”
You sighed playfully, “How do you know I don’t have a super hot date tonight?”
“Pfft..You don’t.”
“Okay, whatever. See you at 8. Bye.” you hang up before he could respond.
You slowly start making your way to Leah’s until tonight’s activities.
You almost started climbing the hill but you hear a door close. You both made eye contact when you look over.
“You’re not going to speak?”
“Sorry.” you look down as you realized you now know where he lives. Paul smiled a bit as he got closer to your frozen state. You wished he didn’t because his scent smacked you dead in the face. It was so addictive that it made you sway a bit on your feet on the pavement.
“Where you headed?”
“To Leah’s.”
“She’s not home..”
“Oh…How do you know?”
“She mentioned having a shift around this time.” he lied easily. He couldn’t just outright tell you that she’s currently a furry animal, patrolling for cold ones.
“Oh. Well, thanks for telling me before I made the entire trip there for nothing.” you say as you started turning back to the direction of your house.
“Wanna get something to eat? I’m hungry.”
He’s bad news.
“Um..I wish I could but you know..I left my money at home.” you replied.
“Did I say anything about you bringing money? I asked if you wanted to get something to eat.”
You haven’t eaten all day. It felt like your stomach was eating through your back.
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Alright, then. Come on.”
He started walking towards his own ride. You slowly walk with crossed arms. As you clicked your seatbelt on, you couldn’t believe how good leather could smell. Paul started the engine. He was a fast driver but smooth. You’ve never seen or been around anything like it.
“You should put your seatbelt on.”
“I’m fine.” he shrugged.
You couldn’t believe how much he could eat. He ordered two entire plates to himself and he was clearing them while your plate wasn’t even close to finished.
You slowly chew on your fry as you couldn’t believe how someone could make eating attractive. You let your eyes fall back to your plate.
“What you doing tonight?”
“Going to the movies.” you mumbled.
“What are you seeing?”
You made an ‘I don’t know’ noise as you sipped your drink.
“You just going in there blind, huh.”
You smiled softly, “I’m sure Jake’s picking it.”
Paul actually froze, his bitten burger still in his hand.
“I thought you and Jacob weren’t a thing.”
“We’re not.” you say as you picked up another piece of salty starch.
“Is it a movie date?”
“No.” you chuckled. He only stared.
“He’s picking it. He’s not letting you pick it?”
“I kinda trust Jake’s judgment. He’s hit and miss with his film tastes but he weirdly broadens my horizons.” you explained as you wiped your salted fingers on your napkin.
Paul hummed in response. He ate more slowly. You then fold your arms on the table to lean a bit as you stare ahead at him.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing.”
“No hot date?”
“What makes you think I got a hot date?”
Your heart stuttered.
“I-well-you know…I was only teasing.” you whispered.
“No. The answer is no.”
You inhaled softly and spoke without thinking, “You want to come…and we can like hang out?”
He looked up. He was definitely going to say no. You were sure of it.
“Yeah I’ll go see your little movie.”
You chuckled, “Alright.” He cracked a small smile.
You unbuckle your seatbelt as the engine rumbled under you. You turn to him a bit and smile a bit.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll…See you later..Okay?” You say softly and you move your hand out but pause, not knowing whether or not to touch his shoulder.
“You will.”
You did something you didn’t expect, you lean and press a soft kiss on his cheek.
“I-I don’t know why I did that.” you stammered.
His smile spread across his face. The sight of his face made you not want to leave. He leans and presses a very soft kiss on the corner of your mouth. You actually flutter your eyes closed.
“Let me get your number before you go.” he suggested. You slowly open your eyes and it felt like it was a dream.
“Really?”
He nods.
Your mind went empty but your thumbs did all of the muscle memory.
Pacing in front of the mirror, you wondered if you should change or keep what you have on. You sit down on your bed with your arms crossed as you just couldn’t wait for 8 to come.
The theater lobby buzzed with night energy, the smell of buttered popcorn and waves of chatter hanging in the air.
Jacob stood by the ticket scanner with his arms crossed while you stood in the concession stand. You exchange a couple dollar bills for a large cup. You searched the theater for Paul. You didn’t tell Jacob Paul was coming.
“Got the tickets.” Jacob says as he met you at the beverage machine.
“Cool.” you nod as you slowly and carefully filled your slushie cup.
“Hurry up grandma.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re so slow.”
“I’m almost done.” you chuckled.
“In what, ten years?”
You flashed him an innocent smile and slowly added another inch of blue raspberry slush. Jacob sighed dramatically.
Your face lit up. Paul entered the entrance and you watched as he purchased a ticket.
“Ugh. Hopefully it’s not the same movie.” you heard Jacob say. Your stomach fluttered.
You stuck your straw in your cup and didn’t say anything as you watched Paul scout the scenery and found your eyes. You smile a small smile and couldn’t help the small wave.
He gave you a look of acknowledgment.
You walked to meet him without hesitation.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” you greet. He stuck an arm out. You took your chance. You wrapped your arms around him, your cheek to his chest. Paul wrapped his warm arms around you and your eyes actually fluttered closed.
Paul’s eyes lifted over your shoulder, directly to Jacob. Jacob glared. Paul held the stare.
You finally pulled back.
“You’re so late.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
Paul glanced at the giant slushie in your hand, “Pretty sure that thing took longer to fill than my drive over.” You looked down at it.
“I wanted the layers to look pretty.”
“It looks radioactive.”
“It does not.”
“It absolutely does.”
Jacob rolled his eyes and turned toward the hallway leading to the theaters.
As you both walked, Paul drifted closer beside you. Your shoulders bumped.
You nudged him with your elbow as you swallowed some of your slushie.
“You seriously couldn’t leave ten minutes earlier?”
“Who the fuck comes to the movies early? The trailers are still showing.”
“That’s not the point.” you chuckled.
“Seems like exactly the point.”
You huffed and Paul grinned.
Ahead of you two, Jacob glanced back and caught the smile. His expression darkened immediately. The silence from Jacob was defeaning.
He walked ahead of you two, down the dark theater aisle without saying a word, scanning for seats like you and Paul weren’t even there.
You watched Jacob pick a row. Then, without warning, Paul’s hand lightly caught your wrist. He just tugged you gently, guiding you away from the middle rows Jacob had chosen.
The back row was mostly empty, dimly lit, the screen flickering previews across their faces. Paul picked a seat near the corner and sat down like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Your eyes widened slightly.
“Paul, I’m sitting with Jacob.” you whispered.
Jacob had already sat down a few rows ahead.
You exhaled softly. He flopped down in the chair stubbornly. You sat next to Paul. The moment you did, something in your chest loosened. You glanced toward Jacob’s silhouette in the distance. Your guilt flickered again when you saw him looking around for you before he put two and two together. You slouched in your seat with shame. Paul shifted slightly beside you, close enough that your shoulders touched.
You gave him a small, uncertain look.
“I was supposed to sit with him.” you murmured.
Paul finally looked at you then.
“Yeah.” he said simply.
The movie previews continued flashing over them, bright colors washing across Paul’s face.
You shifted in your seat halfway through the first act, trying to focus on the screen, but the plot dragged like it couldn’t decide what it wanted to be.
At one point, a dramatic scene played where a character delivered a long emotional monologue and Paul leaned slightly toward you and whispered, “I give it five minutes before he gets hit by something.”
You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.
A few minutes later, a completely over the top action moment happened on screen.
“Goddamn.”
You laughed quietly into your hand. It kept happening.
Every time you tried to focus, Paul would tilt his head, or raise an eyebrow, or mutter something just ridiculous enough to crack your concentration.
Somehow, you realized something halfway through, you liked this more than the movie. You liked hearing him laugh too.
When you whispered a joke about how unrealistic the fight choreography was, Paul let out a low, silent laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly as he leaned forward.
At one point, he was now drinking your slushie until it was gone. You didn’t care.
By the final act, the movie had become background noise.
Then, during a quieter moment on screen when the theater had finally settled into near silence, Paul shifted closer.
You turned slightly, expecting another joke. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. Your mind went blank. Happy. Shocked. Lightheaded. All of those feelings rushed in your veins. The entire theater had tilted and you were the only one who noticed.
Paul leaned back like nothing had happened, eyes returning casually to the screen.
You slowly turned forward again, staring straight ahead, trying very hard to pretend you was still part of reality.
The rest of the movie passed in a blur.
When the credits finally rolled, people began standing and stretching, lights slowly coming up.
You barely moved. Paul stood first, then offered you his hand without a word. You took it.
Outside, the night air felt sharper than you expected.
Jacob was already waiting near the exit, arms crossed, jaw tight. Fuming.
The second he saw you two together, Paul’s arm casually resting around your shoulders, his expression darkened further.
“Come on,” Jacob said flatly, eyes on you. “I’m taking you home.”
You blinked like you was just remembering where you was. You shifted slightly but Paul’s arm didn’t leave your shoulders.
Before you could respond, Paul spoke first.
“I’m grabbing food,” he said casually. “She wants to come with me.”
Jacob’s eyes snapped to him immediately. “What?”
Paul didn’t move away. “Yeah,” he repeated nonchalantly, “We’re going to get something to eat.”
Jacob’s tone sharpened and he looked like he was really close to hitting Paul, “Absolutely not.”
“Jake,” you said softly, “It’s okay. I’m fine.”
His eyes flicked to you immediately. He didn’t look convinced. He looked frustrated. Hurt. Angry in a way he was trying not to show too much of.
“Y/N,” Jacob said tightly, “you were supposed to come with me. Don’t let him ruin what was supposed to be a time for us to hang out.”
“I know, Jake, I know,” you admitted. “But I’m just…I’m going to get food with Paul and then I’ll go home after..Promise...”
Paul watched your face as every word left your mouth, he just stood beside you, calm in a way that made the space feel even more divided.
Jacob’s jaw flexed as he bawled his fists.
“No,” he said flatly, now looking at Paul. “She’s coming with me.”
“I’ll take her home.”
Jacob let out a short, humorless breath. His eyes snapped back to you.
“Come on.” he said again, softer this time, but still final.
“It’s fine,” you said again, quieter as you felt Paul subtly bring you closer, “I’ll be okay.”
Jacob’s expression changed, not loud, not explosive. Just a tight, controlled anger settling in.
He looked at you for a long moment like he wanted to say more and chose not to.
“Fine. Whatever.” he muttered, already walking off. The silence he left behind felt heavier than his voice.
You watched him go, guilt flickering through your expression, but Paul gently touched your arm.
Paul’s car was warm inside, dimly lit by streetlights outside the windshield.
You slid into the passenger seat, still a little dazed, like your body hadn’t fully caught up to the night yet.
Before you could even adjust, he leaned in. His hand moved carefully to your seatbelt, pulling it across you.
The clicked sound felt oddly loud in the quiet space.
You glanced at him, breath catching slightly as he was still close. He didn’t move away right away.
Instead, Paul cupped your face gently and kissed you again.
This one lingered, warm and grounding, like he was letting the moment settle instead of stealing it.
When he pulled back, you didn’t speak. You couldn’t, not immediately. Your thoughts felt scattered in the best possible way.
Paul finally leaned away and shut your door with a soft thud.
For a second, you just sat there, staring forward.
Then you pressed your lips together, trying and failing to hide the smile that kept forming.
Your phone buzzed again before you two even made it inside.
You already knew who it was before you looked. Still, you glanced down as Paul held your hand.
I cannot believe you pulled ts tonight..You ditched me in the theater to go sit with him like I wasn’t even there. After everything I’ve told you about Paul, you still don’t listen but you’ll just see since you want to see so bad
I made plans with you to the movies, not paul. it wasn’t some group thing either but you took it upon yourself to invite him for whatever reason.
I’m not doing this anymore where I just stand there while you act so inconsiderate. This isn’t cool
I’m done. Do whatever you want.
You quickly click your phone black.
A soft laugh slipped out of him as you two were being guided through the restaurant.
You glanced at him. “What?”
He tilted his head slightly toward you.
Your face tightened as your heart raced, “Its fine. It’s nothing.”
“That long?” Paul said, amused, not unkind. “Yeah, sure.”
You didn’t respond.
The hostess led you two to a booth, and the restaurant noise wrapped around you, clinking plates, low conversation, warm lighting that made everything feel a little softer than the panicked conversation in your head.
Paul slid in first, relaxed.
You sat across from him, still quiet.
Before you could settle fully, a young waitress came over with menus.
She was friendly, bright smile, easy confidence.
When she looked at Paul, her expression shifted just slightly.
“Oh,” she said lightly, a little playful. “Hi.”
Paul looked up. “Hey.”
The waitress lingered a second longer than necessary, setting down waters.
“So what can I get you guys started with?” she asked, but her eyes flicked back to Paul once more, “Me personally, I like our new drink that we have.”
“Just water for now.” he said.
“Same.” you added quietly as you studied the wood of the table. You wondered if Jacob didn’t want to be friends anymore.
The waitress nodded, still smiling.
“Alright.” she said, lingering a beat before finally walking off.
Once she was gone, you exhaled softly, stiff looking down at the table.
Paul leaned back in his seat, watching you for a second.
Paul’s plate looked less like a single order and more like someone had challenged the kitchen to keep up with him.
You stared at it for a second.
“You’re actually going to finish all that?” you asked, half amused.
Paul didn’t even look up as he dug into his food. “Probably.”
“That’s like… three people’s worth.”
He shrugged. “I’ve heard worse insults.”
That made you laugh under your breath.
Both knees bumped under the table as you two shifted closer in the tight booth, but neither of you moved away.
“Movie was terrible.” Paul said after a moment.
You chuckled, “It wasn’t that bad.”
He gave you a look.
“It was two hours of people standing around explaining things nobody needed explained.”
“That’s basically every movie.”
“Yeah.” he said dryly.
Paul’s hand found yours the moment you two stepped out of the restaurant. His fingers threaded through yours naturally as you two walked across the parking lot toward his car.
Every few seconds you’d glance down at your joined hands just to make sure it was real.
The drive home passed surprisingly quick. You guided him through familiar roads while trying and failing, not to stare at him every time a streetlight illuminated his face.
When you two finally reached your house, neither moved immediately.
The engine idled softly.
Paul eventually got out and walked around to her side before you could open the door yourself.
You both walked slowly up the path to your front porch far slower than necessary.
At the door, you both stopped and for a moment, neither said anything. Paul shoved his hands into his pockets.
“So.”
You looked up at him.
“So.”
A faint smile tugged at his mouth.
“Did you have a good time?”
The answer came immediately.
“Yeah.” your cheeks warmed, “Did you have a good time?”
“Really good.” something softened in his expression. He leaned down and kissed you. You immediately melted.
It was warm in a way that made your knees feel strangely weak.
When you both finally pulled apart, you felt shy all over again. You looked down at the porch boards.
Paul laughed quietly. Before you could think better of it, you leaned forward and kissed him again. Paul looked surprised for half a second.
Then he kissed you back. Eventually you had to pull away simply because you needed air.
Your breathing felt uneven, your head felt light. Paul looked far too pleased with himself.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
You stared at him.
Then nodded quickly, “Goodnight.” and practically fled into the house.
You was sprawled across your bed with a pillow hugged tightly against your chest, staring at the ceiling. You were completely helpless.
Every time you closed your eyes you replayed the evening, the movie, the restaurant, the drive, the kisses, especially the kisses.
“Where do we go from here?” you echoed in your mind. You buried your face in the pillow.
The guilt sat in fully the next morning. By noon, you found yourself standing outside Jacob's house. You knocked and Billy called for you to come in. After a quick greeting to him, you headed to Jacob's room. He was sitting on the edge of his bed with his door open.
The second he saw you, his expression flattened.
"Jake."
There was silence. You try again.
"Jake, please...Im sorry, I really am." you sat beside him, "I shouldn't have did what I did." you whispered.
"You need to leave him alone."
You immediately frowned, "Jake-"
"No," he looked at you directly, "You need to listen to me for once." the seriousness in his voice made you freeze. He rubbed a hand down his face, "All he's going to do is break your heart and I can't call myself a good friend if I just stand by and let that happen."
"He's been nice to me." you say and Jacob laughed at the sappy tone that coated your voice. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
He shook his head, "That's what Paul does...He charms girls, flirts, gets them interested...And when he's bored, he moves on." his jaw tightened, "Ive watched him do it time and time again...You think you're the only girl who he's made feel like they're on top of the world?"
You stared at the floor. After a moment, you scoot closer and wrapped your arms around him. Jacob stiffened in surprise. You squeezed him tighter.
"Im sorry..You were right, it was our time to hang out and I was acting selfish and inconsiderate."
One arm wrapped around your shoulders, "Im not trying to be a jerk."
"I know."
"Im trying to protect you. You're my best friend."
You rested your head against his shoulder.
"Well, since Im still your best friend, let me buy you ice cream."
"You mean let you bribe me?"
"I am apologizing."
"With ice cream."
"Yes."
Jacob pretend to think about before he easily agreed.
"Okay."
The drive in his rabbit to Port Angeles was comfortable. The tension slowly disappeared as you both talked about random things, music on the radio filled the quiet moments.
By the time you two were walking with ice cream cones in hand, it felt normal again. You were laughing, he was laughing, the awful heaviness from the prior night seemed further away.
You both found a bench and sat down. Jacob was halfway through his ice cream when your phone buzzed. You glanced down immediately and your heart betrayed you.
I wanted to see you again today if thats alright with you
The butterflies immediately erupted in your stomach. Carefully, you turned your phone face down on your lap. Jacob remained focused on his ice cream and unaware that you had suddenly became very interested in the pavement.
"Hey."
You looked up. "Hm?"
"You got quiet."
"Oh." you forced a smile, "Im listening."
"Sure. What'd I just say?"
You blinked slowly, "...Nothing?"
Jacob laughed a bit, "Exactly...So, did you actually like the movie?"
"To be honest..No."
"The fight scenes looked fake."
You immediately laughed, "The warehouse fight."
"Awful."
"The guy got punched and flew like twenty feet."
"Thank you."
You laughed as for the next several minutes, you both completely abandoned the plot discussion and just made fun of the movie together. But, that lingering thought of Paul, and the flow of that night stayed in the back of your mind. Your fingers itched to text him back.
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 ゛⸝⸝ ⋆
requested : if your asks are still open can i ask for headcanons of the quileute pack with the bird theory? i think it would be the cutest thing bc i just saw the video of the girl whose boyfriend was so rude to her and right after i saw one of a husband being so cute to his wife and couldn’t help but think of them <3 i love your writing <3
note | hi love 🤍 thank you so much, that’s really kind of you to say 🥺 it means a lot that you enjoy my writing, i appreciate it more than i can put into words ♡
sam uley
sam with the bird theory would be the kind that proves the entire point without even realizing he’s doing it.
people tend to notice the bigger things about sam first. how serious he can be, how much responsibility sits on his shoulders, the way he always seems to be thinking three steps ahead. he carries a lot, and because of that, people sometimes assume his affection has to be big to be noticeable. protective gestures. difficult decisions. important moments.
but loving sam has always been quieter than that.
it’s in the little things. the things most people would brush past without thinking twice.
so maybe one afternoon he’s fixing something outside, focused in that way he gets sometimes, hands busy while you sit nearby just enjoying the quiet with him. maybe you’re not even trying to get his attention. maybe you just glance toward the trees and say, “i saw this tiny bird earlier today.”
that’s it.
just a random thought. just something small.
and sam looks up immediately.
not distractedly, not with a quick nod meant to keep the conversation moving. he actually stops what he’s doing and gives you his attention like the sentence mattered.
“yeah?” he asks, eyes already on you. “what kind?”
and for a second, you blink at him.
because people probably wouldn’t ask that. not over a bird.
but sam does.
he wants details. was it small? what color was it? where’d you see it? did it stay around long? and he listens while you answer, completely listens, like he isn’t waiting for you to finish talking so he can go back to what he was doing.
like the conversation itself matters.
like you matter.
and slowly, over time, you realize he does this with everything.
little comments said in passing. things you barely remember mentioning afterward.
“that flower smelled nice.”
“this song reminded me of something.”
“that dog looked like it was smiling.”
small things. tiny things. things that shouldn’t really stay with someone.
except they stay with sam.
because later he’ll pass a flower stand and point at one quietly, saying, “that the one you liked?” or he’ll hear a song and glance toward you because he remembered what you said weeks ago.
and one day you finally catch onto it.
you look over at him and narrow your eyes slightly.
“you always do that.”
sam glances at you. “do what?”
“listen.”
he frowns a little, looking genuinely confused, like he doesn’t understand why you’re saying it like it’s unusual.
“course i do.”
and he says it so simply.
so naturally.
like there isn’t another option.
because to sam, loving someone was never really about grand gestures. it was paying attention when you reached for him in small ways. it was treating every little “look at this” and “listen to this” and “i saw this today” like it was worth stopping for.
because if you turned toward him for even a second—
he was always going to turn right back.
⸻
jared cameron
jared with the bird theory would be the kind that acts like he’s not paying attention at first.
because jared is loud. teasing. constantly saying something. he’s the type to throw out comments just to get a reaction from you, grin already on his face before he’s even finished speaking. so if anyone looked at the two of you, they’d probably assume he’s the distracted one.
they’d be wrong.
because one day you’re walking beside him and casually mention, “i saw this little bird earlier.”
and immediately—
“ugly bird or cute bird?”
you just stare at him.
because that wasn’t even the response you expected.
“what?”
he glances over at you with that completely serious expression that somehow makes it worse.
“well, every bird falls into categories, doesn’t it?” he says. “tiny fluffy ones, weird angry ones, and the ones that look like they know somethin’.”
you laugh.
actually laugh.
and suddenly he’s grinning because now he has your attention completely.
“nah, c’mon,” he says, nudging your shoulder lightly. “what’d it look like?”
and the thing with jared is that he turns everything into a conversation.
everything.
you tell him the bird was small and suddenly he’s asking if it hopped around or walked. if it was one of those birds that puffs itself up for no reason. if it made weird noises.
half of his questions sound ridiculous.
the other half sound genuine.
and somehow they blur together so well you stop being able to tell the difference.
but then later—days later—you realize something.
you’ll point at something and before you even say anything, he’s already looking.
you’ll mention liking something once and suddenly he remembers it out of nowhere.
you’ll tell him some tiny, random detail that even you forgot about, and then weeks later he brings it up like it was important.
because to him, it was.
jared just has this way of hiding it behind jokes.
he’ll tease you while listening.
smirk while paying attention.
act casual while remembering every little thing.
and maybe one day you finally catch him doing it.
“you remember a lot,” you say quietly.
he glances over.
“remember what?”
“things i say.”
there’s a second where he just looks at you.
then he shrugs.
“well, yeah.”
simple.
like there isn’t anything strange about it.
like of course he remembers.
because the truth is, jared might joke around and pretend not to take things seriously—
but he takes you seriously.
always.
so if you walked up to him excited over a bird, a cloud, a flower, or something completely random you saw on the side of the road—
he’d turn toward you every single time.
even if his first response was still,
“okay but was the bird ugly?”
⸻
paul lahote
paul with the bird theory would be the kind that reacts before he even processes what you said.
because paul doesn’t do quiet in the traditional sense. he’s sharp around the edges, quick to respond, quick to joke, quick to turn something small into something he can bounce off of. so when you mention something random—something like, “i saw a bird today”—you’d expect him to brush past it.
he doesn’t.
he turns toward you immediately.
“what kind?”
and it’s not soft or careful at first. it’s curious in a way that almost sounds like interrogation, except his eyes are already on you like the answer actually matters.
you blink a little, caught off guard. “i don’t know… just a bird.”
“no, that’s not helpful,” he says, like this is a problem that needs solving. “was it small? big? did it look like it had business somewhere or was it just wandering around like an idiot?”
you laugh before you can stop yourself.
because of course that’s where his brain goes.
but then he keeps going. keeps asking. keeps pulling details out of you like he’s building the picture in his head as you speak. and slowly, underneath the teasing, there’s something else.
he’s listening.
fully.
like he’s not just entertaining you, but actually tracking every word.
and the funny thing about paul is that he tries to hide that part behind noise. behind sarcasm. behind acting like he’s only half invested.
but he remembers everything anyway.
you find that out later.
when you mention something small and forget about it entirely, and then days or weeks later he brings it up like it’s still sitting right in front of him.
“you said you liked that.”
or,
“that thing you saw the other day, you ever see it again?”
and it catches you off guard every time.
because he doesn’t do it like it’s special. he doesn’t make it soft or obvious. he just… holds onto it. like it never left his attention in the first place.
so one day you finally ask him,
“why do you always ask so many questions about everything I say?”
he shrugs like it’s nothing, like the answer is obvious.
“because you say things like that and expect me not to care?”
then he pauses, like he realizes how that sounds, and scoffs lightly to cover it.
“besides, if you’re gonna talk, might as well make it interesting.”
but he’s already looking at you when he says it.
already listening again.
and that’s the thing with paul—he’ll act like it’s all teasing, all noise, all nothing serious at all.
but the second you say something small, something ordinary, something like a bird passing by—
he’s there.
every time.
⸻
jacob black
jacob with the bird theory would be the kind that reacts like he already knows it matters to you before he even figures out why.
because jacob is present in a way that feels immediate. he doesn’t just hear you, he turns toward you. fully. like whatever else he was thinking about gets set aside without effort the moment your voice shifts into something lighter, something casual, something that isn’t asking for anything.
so when you say, “i saw a bird today,” it doesn’t land like a throwaway comment to him.
it lands like an opening.
“yeah?” he says right away, brows lifting slightly as he looks at you. “what kind of bird?”
and it’s not performative curiosity. it’s not him trying to impress you or say the right thing. it’s just instinctive interest, like your words naturally pull him in before he can decide otherwise.
you shrug a little. “just… a bird. small. it was just sitting there.”
jacob laughs under his breath, like that answer isn’t enough and he’s mildly offended on behalf of the bird. “that’s it? you’re tellin’ me you stopped your whole day for a mystery bird and I don’t even get details?”
and suddenly it’s not just a passing comment anymore. it’s a conversation. it’s him leaning back slightly, still facing you, asking questions like what it was doing, where you saw it, whether it looked like it had any idea what it was doing with its life. half teasing, half genuinely invested in your answer.
that’s what he does without thinking. he turns your small moments into shared ones.
but the deeper part shows up later.
because jacob remembers.
not in a dramatic way. not in a “look how attentive I am” way. it just… stays with him. the way your voice sounded when you said it. the way your expression looked when you noticed something random and decided it was worth mentioning to him.
so days later, when you’re walking and he suddenly goes, “hey, wasn’t there like a weird bird you saw the other day?” it catches you off guard.
because you didn’t think he was still holding onto that.
but he is.
and when you confirm it, he just nods like it all makes sense to him. like of course he remembers. like of course it mattered enough to keep.
jacob doesn’t make a big deal out of paying attention.
he just does it.
you start noticing it more after that. the way he responds when you talk, even about things you think are insignificant. the way he doesn’t let small comments disappear into the air. the way he circles back to things you forgot you even said.
and one day you finally ask him,
“why do you always care about stuff like that?”
jacob looks at you like the question itself is weird.
“because you said it,” he answers simply.
no hesitation. no overthinking.
like that alone is reason enough.
and maybe that’s the clearest version of him there is.
because with jacob, it’s never really about birds or random stories or passing comments.
it’s about the fact that if it came from you—
he’s already listening.
⸻
quil ateara
quil with the bird theory would be the kind that doesn’t make a big deal out of it at all at first, like he’s half-expecting you to say something more interesting and already preparing a joke before you’ve even finished your sentence.
because quil is easy like that. light on his feet in conversation, always ready to laugh, always ready to turn something small into something playful. so when you casually mention, “i saw a bird today,” he doesn’t treat it like anything important at first.
he just looks over at you with a small grin.
“that’s it? just a bird?”
and you nod, expecting him to move on.
but he doesn’t.
instead, he slows down. actually slows down like something in your tone caught his attention more than the words themselves. his expression shifts just slightly, still casual, but now there’s curiosity sitting underneath it.
“what kind?” he asks after a second.
and suddenly it’s not a throwaway comment anymore.
it’s a moment you’re both in.
you shrug, trying to remember. “small. kind of brown-ish? it was just sitting there, didn’t really do much.”
quil huffs a quiet laugh, but it’s softer now. less teasing, more like he’s picturing it. “you’re telling me you had a whole encounter with a mystery bird and you’re not even gonna give me a proper description?”
and just like that, he’s fully in it with you.
asking questions that start off joking but turn surprisingly specific. did it hop or walk? was it doing that weird head tilt thing birds do like they’re judging you? did it look like it had somewhere important to be or was it just existing dramatically for no reason?
he builds it up with you, piece by piece, like your tiny moment is suddenly something worth paying attention to.
and the thing about quil is that he doesn’t just listen to respond. he listens like he’s collecting the moment with you. like if you’re thinking about it, then it’s already worth holding onto.
you don’t realize how consistent that is until later.
because quil remembers.
not loudly. not in a way that demands credit. just quietly, in the background of his attention.
you’ll mention something once, something small enough that even you forget it afterward, and then days later he’ll bring it up like it never left.
“hey, didn’t you say you saw that weird bird thing again?”
and you’ll pause because you didn’t think it mattered enough to stick.
but it did.
with quil, everything you say has a way of staying somewhere in his mind, even if he’s laughing through most of it. even if he’s acting like it’s just part of the conversation.
and that’s when it clicks.
because he might joke around, might tease you, might act like he’s only half-invested in whatever you’re saying—
but the moment you offer him something small, something random, something like a passing thought about a bird in the middle of your day—
he turns toward it completely.
like it was always going to matter to him, just because it came from you.
and that’s quil for you.
lighthearted about everything except the way he pays attention.
⸻
embry call
embry with the bird theory would be the kind that goes quiet in a way that feels like he’s actually thinking about it instead of just reacting.
because embry doesn’t rush the moment. he listens first, like your words settle somewhere in him before he decides what to do with them. so when you casually mention, “i saw a bird today,” he doesn’t immediately turn it into a joke or a story.
he just looks at you for a second.
like he’s making sure he heard you right.
“yeah?” he says after that pause, voice easy but attentive. “what kind of bird?”
and there’s something in the way he asks it that makes it feel less like curiosity for the sake of conversation and more like he actually wants to see what you saw.
you shrug slightly. “i don’t really know. it was just… there. small. it didn’t do much.”
embry hums under his breath, like he’s picturing it already. “just sitting there?”
you nod.
“probably judging you,” he says, but there’s a small smile in it now.
and that’s the thing with him—he doesn’t dismiss small things. he doesn’t flatten them or rush past them. he lets them exist long enough for you to realize they might’ve meant more than you thought.
he keeps asking gentle questions after that. not overwhelming, not intense. just enough to draw the moment out. what direction was it facing. whether it flew off fast or stayed a while. whether you stopped just to look at it or if it surprised you.
and even when he’s teasing, there’s attention underneath it.
real attention.
you start noticing it later in quieter ways.
like how embry remembers offhand things you said days ago without ever writing them down or making a big deal of it. like how he’ll reference something you barely recall mentioning, not to impress you, but like it naturally stayed with him.
“you said you liked those, right?” he’ll ask, casual, holding something small out to you like it was never a question whether he’d remember.
and it throws you a little every time.
because nothing about him is loud in the way he cares. he doesn’t announce it. doesn’t perform it.
he just holds onto things.
quietly. consistently.
so when you finally ask him why he always pays attention to the smallest stuff you say, embry just shrugs like the answer is obvious.
“because it’s you,” he says simply.
no extra explanation. no overthinking.
just that.
and somehow, it fits him perfectly.
because embry doesn’t treat your words like background noise or filler between bigger moments.
he treats them like they were meant to be heard.
⸻
leah clearwater
leah with the bird theory would be the kind that pretends she’s not interested at first, because she’s used to people talking just to fill space, not because they expect to be heard.
so when you casually mention, “i saw a bird today,” she doesn’t immediately soften into it. she just looks over at you with a brief glance, like she’s deciding whether this is one of those empty comments people make without meaning anything behind it.
“a bird,” she repeats, flat at first.
and you nod a little, already half expecting her to move on.
but she doesn’t.
there’s a pause where her expression shifts in a way that’s subtle but noticeable if you’re paying attention. less guarded. less dismissive. like she’s actually registering that you chose to tell her that.
“what kind?” she asks after a second, tone still even, but now there’s something more deliberate under it.
and that’s what makes it different.
because leah doesn’t ask things she doesn’t care about.
you shrug, thinking back. “small. kind of plain, honestly. it was just sitting there.”
she scoffs lightly, but it isn’t unkind. more like she’s pushing back against the idea that it didn’t matter. “you say that like it was nothing.”
and suddenly you’re caught off guard, because she’s not brushing it away. she’s pulling it closer instead.
she listens in a way that doesn’t always look soft. sometimes it’s sharp around the edges. sometimes it comes with sarcasm or a raised brow or a comment that sounds like she’s challenging you just a little. but she’s still listening.
fully.
you realize it more as she keeps you talking, asking questions that sound casual but aren’t careless. where you were. what you were doing. why you noticed it in the first place. like she’s trying to understand the moment the way you experienced it, not just the fact that it happened.
and later, it shows up again.
because leah remembers.
not in a showy way. not in a way that asks for credit. just quietly, like she’s filed your words somewhere safe without telling you she did it.
you’ll mention something small once and forget it entirely, and then days later she’ll bring it up like it never left the conversation.
“you still think about that bird thing?” she’ll ask, like it’s obvious she’d remember.
and it makes you pause, because you didn’t think it stuck.
but it did.
with leah, it’s not that she reacts to everything warmly or immediately. it’s that she doesn’t ignore you. not when it matters. not when it’s real.
and over time, you start noticing the pattern.
she might act indifferent to the world sometimes, like she’s keeping her distance from anything that could be too much.
but the moment you say something small, something ordinary, something you almost didn’t think was worth sharing—
she turns toward it anyway.
not loudly.
not gently every time.
but consistently.
like she’s decided that if it comes from you, it’s worth hearing properly.
⸻
seth clearwater
seth with the bird theory would be the kind that lights up before you even finish the sentence, like your words don’t need to be important to deserve his full attention.
because seth listens in a way that feels immediate. open. unguarded. like there’s no internal debate about whether what you’re saying is worth pausing for. so when you casually mention, “i saw a bird today,” he doesn’t treat it like small talk.
he treats it like an invitation.
“really?” he says right away, turning toward you fully. “what kind of bird?”
and there’s no hesitation in him. no filtering. no pretending he’s too busy for something simple. just genuine interest, like you’ve handed him a tiny piece of your day and he’s already holding it carefully in his mind.
you shrug a little, smiling without meaning to. “it was small. kind of plain. it was just sitting there.”
seth leans in slightly like he’s trying to picture it. “was it doing anything cool? or just… birding?”
and you laugh, because the way he says it makes it sound like birds have their own personality types he’s trying to learn.
but he doesn’t let the moment stay small for long. he keeps asking, not because he’s trying to interrogate it, but because he wants to understand it with you. where you saw it. what you were doing before you noticed it. whether it looked calm or startled or like it had somewhere to be.
and somehow, in his hands, a passing comment becomes a shared moment.
seth has this way of making everything feel like it’s worth talking about. like nothing you say is too minor to exist in the conversation properly. and he doesn’t just respond to you—he builds with you.
later, you start noticing it outside of the bird thing too.
you’ll mention something once, half-expecting it to disappear into the background of everything else you’ve said that day, and seth will just… keep it.
“oh, you like those, right?” he’ll say later, holding something out to you with a grin like it was always obvious.
and you realize he didn’t just hear you in the moment.
he kept you.
quietly. consistently. without making it a big deal.
so one day you ask him, a little curious, “why do you always care so much about the little stuff I say?”
seth looks at you like the answer is the simplest thing in the world.
“because it’s you,” he says.
and then he shrugs, like that should be the end of it.
like there’s no other reason needed.
and maybe that’s what makes seth different.
he doesn’t wait for something big to pay attention.
he just listens from the start.
like everything you say is already something worth holding onto.
Summary: Paul Lahote’s life since becoming a werewolf has been nothing short of exciting. Rogue vampires, newfound powers, and an unshakeable brotherhood should have been enough to keep him occupied for however long his extended mortality allows. It would have been enough until he rescues a drowning human and imprints after saving her life. Throw in a case of amnesia to complicate matters further and suddenly Paul’s unsure of if he’ll ever know peace again.
Chapter One
There’s a common thought that death is peaceful. That it is the slow transition from living to something else. Something beyond comprehension. To you death was hectic. It was loud and cold and suffocating each time the waves pulled your struggling body under. One misstep, a mistake, a fault in something you’d been doing since you learned how to walk sent you slipping over the edge of the cliff into the inky depths below. Your last conscious thought as the fight seeps out of your very bones is how pretty the sun looks shining through the sea that’s claiming you as its own.
At least it should be. That should have been it, the ending to the story of your life that was only eighteen chapters long. There shouldn’t have been an epilogue, not even an author's note because in the grand scheme of things how important could one death out of thousands in a day really be. You’d been traveling alone and had a limited amount of family left to realize when you hadn’t called home in a while.
Instead rough hands claimed you, tugged you from what would have served as your eternal resting place. Fingers too frantic to truly be gentle pried your clenched jaws apart and warm lips crushed against yours in attempt after attempt to breathe life back into your cold body. Crushing pressure on your chest forced salty seawater up up up and out of your body in sputtering coughs and choking gasps.
”That’s it, breathe. Breathe dammit!” A gruff voice encouraged you, sounding impossibly close and far away at the same time. You began to rock and idly your brain wondered if this was all a hallucination, a fabrication of your mind seeking salvation in its last moments. Until suddenly a well placed compression seemed to jolt the last of the water from your lungs and shock your system into rebooting.
Your lungs burned, screaming from too long without oxygen and the salt in the water. Your hand jolted out and met warm flesh, an arm or a leg you’re not too sure. Only aware of the warmth burning into your frozen skin and the edge of clothing just barely enough to cling to.
You saw the sky first, far too bright and cheery for the catastrophe it was bearing witness to down below. Then a dark shape hovered over you, blocking your limited view of the same sun you’d accepted as the last memory from your time on Earth. It was instinct to protest, to attempt to push the darkness away, but it seemed your body wasn’t listening to the commands your brain delivered. Its sole focus was to breathe around the shivers that shook your body and the rasping coughs you couldn’t help but let out.
“Hey, hey! Can you hear me? Help’s coming, just stay awake. Come on kid talk to me here.” The darkness seemed to bleed from the figure above you, spreading and blurring the edges of your vision despite its demand that you stay awake.
You lock eyes with your savior for only a moment, a single heartbeat where depthless brown eyes bore down into yours. There’s a beat, then another when everything is still and the two of you are all that exist anymore before the darkness surges forward again and drags you back under. “No, no keep your eyes open. Sam, how much longer? Sam, SAM!”
requested : Haiii! ❀ܓ(｡◠ ꇴ ◠｡ ) Firstly, I live for your writing, I love the way you write Seth & Embry especially, because I feel like in older fics esp they wind up acting like really ooc brutes or exactly the same. But the way you write them is so delicately adoring. Anyways, what do you think the wolf pack's reactions to reader having a ***sliiiight*** habit of walking into walls, accidentally chucking empty milk jugs, & overall being a clumsy mess? Thanks & have a good day/night ♡~٩( ˃▽˂ )۶~♡
note | i love 🤍 thank you so much, that’s really kind of you to say 🥺 i’m really glad you enjoy how i write them that genuinely means a lot ♡ and I decided to change my writing format
sam uley
sam notices the pattern faster than he comments on it. at first it’s just small things—your shoulder catching a doorway, your foot misjudging a step, the way you somehow manage to make an empty milk jug travel farther than it has any right to. he doesn’t react loudly, but his eyes always track you a second longer than everyone else’s, like he’s quietly updating an internal list of “things to anticipate.”
the first time you walk straight into a wall mid-conversation, sam doesn’t laugh. he just goes still for half a second, then calmly steps closer and checks if you’re okay with a steady hand hovering near your arm before actually touching you. his concern comes out very controlled, but it’s immediate. “you didn’t see that?” he asks, not accusatory—just genuinely trying to understand how the wall managed to win.
after that, he becomes subtly protective in a way that doesn’t draw attention. he’ll position himself so you’re always on the safer side of the space without making it obvious. if you’re carrying something fragile—or suspiciously empty—he’ll glance at it like he’s already preparing for impact. and if you do end up launching it across the room again, sam just exhales through his nose, a faint “of course,” like he’s accepted this as part of reality now.
he doesn’t tease you much, but when he does, it’s quiet and dry. “try to keep the walls in their place,” said in that low, almost amused tone that makes it hard to tell if he’s joking or just mildly resigned to your existence.
what stands out most is that sam never makes your clumsiness feel like something to be embarrassed about. he just adapts around it—steadier hands, slower movements near you, always a step ready to catch you if you miscalculate something again. and eventually, it becomes less about correcting you and more about quietly making sure the world doesn’t catch you off guard before he does.
⸻
jared cameron
jared is the first one to openly react every single time, like it’s brand new information no matter how many times it happens. the moment you bump into a wall mid-sentence, he’s already laughing—not mean, just loud and immediate, like his brain refuses to process it as anything other than the funniest possible outcome. “how do you lose a fight with a wall?” he’ll say, grinning as he’s already moving closer to make sure you didn’t actually hurt yourself.
he’s also the worst influence in the sense that he never helps you feel less clumsy in the moment… but he does make it less embarrassing. if you accidentally launch an empty milk jug across the room, jared will fully track its trajectory like it’s a sports highlight, then clap once like you just scored a point. “that one had distance,” he’ll nod, completely serious.
but underneath all the teasing, he’s weirdly attentive. he starts watching for your “usual mistakes” without making it obvious—doorframes, corners, anything that tends to surprise you. he won’t always intervene, because jared trusts you more than he lets on, but he will slide an arm out at the last second if you’re about to meet another wall head-on.
and the thing is, he never lets the teasing turn into anything sharp. if someone else tries to joke about it in a way that feels off, jared shuts it down fast with a look that says “don’t.” because in his own chaotic way, he’s already decided your clumsiness is just part of the package—and he’s kind of fond of it. he’ll still laugh when you misjudge a step or misfire an object into the void, but he’ll always be right there after it happens, checking you’re okay while pretending he’s still laughing about it.
⸻
paul lahote
paul reacts like your clumsiness is personally offensive to the laws of physics. the first time you walk into a wall while talking, he just stares for a second like he’s trying to figure out if the wall moved first. then he lets out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “you good, or did the wall jump you?” he asks, already stepping closer because his concern always kicks in just a beat after his attitude.
he’s the most likely to be dramatic about it in the moment—hands up, like he’s witnessing a crime scene every time you misjudge a corner. if you accidentally throw an empty milk jug across the room, paul fully reacts like it’s a betrayal. “why is it always flying?” he’ll say, watching it like it has a personal vendetta against him specifically.
but even while he’s being loud about it, he’s also the one who instinctively moves fastest to catch you. you stumble? he’s there. you misstep off a curb? already grabbing your arm. it’s almost reflex for him—like his body reacts before he finishes complaining. and he’ll still grumble about it afterward, but his grip stays a little steadier on your shoulder than necessary, just in case.
paul also gets weirdly competitive about your clumsiness in a teasing way. if you trip over something, he’ll act like it’s a challenge. “nope, that’s two for you, zero for the floor,” he’ll mutter like he’s keeping score against the universe. but it never feels mean—more like he’s trying to turn it into something funny so you don’t get embarrassed.
and when it’s just the two of you, the edge drops a little. he’ll still tease you, but softer, almost under his breath. “you ever think about watching where you’re going?” he’ll say, already adjusting you away from whatever you were about to bump into again. he acts like you’re a walking disaster, but he’s also clearly decided he’s not letting that disaster happen without him there to catch it.
⸻
jacob black
jacob notices your clumsiness in the most immediate, loud way possible—because you don’t just quietly bump into things, you announce your presence to furniture. the first time you walk into a wall mid-conversation, he freezes for half a second, then bursts out laughing like he can’t help it. “did the wall just win?” he’ll ask, grinning as he’s already reaching for your shoulder to make sure you’re okay.
he teases you constantly about it, but it never feels sharp. it’s more like he’s entertained by the fact that you can be mid-sentence and still lose a silent battle with a doorway. if you accidentally launch an empty milk jug across the room, jacob fully tracks it like it’s a sports moment. “that thing had range,” he’ll say, impressed in a completely unserious way.
but he’s also ridiculously fast to step in when it actually matters. you wobble near a corner? his hand is already there, steadying you without thinking. you misjudge a step? he’s got you before you even fully register you slipped. it’s almost instinctive with him—half teasing, half protective, all automatic.
jacob also gets into the habit of lightly guiding you without making it obvious. a hand at your back when you’re walking through tight spaces, a gentle pull away from table edges, a quiet “watch it” when he knows you’re about to meet another piece of furniture head-on. he pretends it’s just him being casual, but it’s very clearly him paying attention.
and honestly, he finds it kind of endearing in a chaotic way. like you’re this unpredictable force of nature that keeps him on his toes. he’ll still laugh when you miscalculate something—he’ll probably always laugh—but it’s always followed by him checking on you, still holding onto your arm a second longer than necessary, like he’s making sure the world doesn’t catch you off guard again.
⸻
quil ateara
quil reacts like he’s trying very hard not to laugh, fails immediately, and then spends the rest of the moment trying to make sure you’re okay while still laughing a little under his breath. the first time you walk into a wall mid-conversation, he pauses, blinks, and goes, “okay… did that wall owe you money?” before quickly stepping over to check on you.
he’s gentle about it in a way that sneaks up on you. even while he’s teasing, he’s already moving things out of your way—chair edges, stray objects, anything that looks like it might ambush you later. if you accidentally fling an empty milk jug across the room, quil doesn’t even act shocked anymore. he just nods like he’s been expecting it. “yep. that tracks.”
quil is also the one who starts quietly “warning” you without making it obvious. a soft “corner,” a quick hand at your elbow, a subtle shift to guide you around obstacles before you even notice them. he doesn’t make a big deal out of it, but he’s constantly paying attention in a way that feels almost effortless.
and when you do get embarrassed about it, quil is surprisingly good at defusing it. he’ll smile, a little warm and easy, and say something like, “honestly, you’re kind of entertaining,” like it’s a compliment—which, from him, it is. he makes it feel less like a flaw and more like a personality trait everyone’s quietly adjusted to.
over time, it becomes second nature for him to just… sync with your chaos. he walks a half-step closer in crowded spaces, watches your hands when you’re holding anything remotely throwable, and always seems to be in exactly the right place when you need someone to steady you. he still teases you, but it’s always paired with that calm, steady presence that says he’s already accounted for whatever you’re about to accidentally do next.
⸻
embry call
embry reacts like he’s watching a slow-motion comedy he can never predict, and honestly, he never gets tired of it. the first time you walk straight into a wall while talking, he just stares for a second, then lets out this quiet, breathy laugh like he’s trying not to make it worse. “no way you just lost to drywall,” he says, already stepping closer to make sure you’re okay.
he’s definitely the type to tease you in the moment, but it’s never cruel—more like he’s genuinely entertained by how you manage to turn everyday movement into a surprise event. if you accidentally launch an empty milk jug across the room, embry will fully track it with his eyes like it’s a dramatic sports replay. “that had spin on it,” he’ll add, impressed in the most unserious way possible.
but what’s kind of sweet is how quickly he starts adapting. he doesn’t make a big deal out of it—he just starts shifting slightly closer when you’re walking together, casually positioning himself so you don’t have to navigate things alone. he’ll reach out at the last second if you misjudge a step, like it’s instinct he didn’t even realize he developed.
embry also gets into the habit of low-key narrating hazards to you. “table,” “chair,” “wall again, seriously?”—like he’s your very sarcastic navigation system. it sounds like teasing, but it’s actually him paying attention in a way that keeps you from getting caught off guard.
and when you’re embarrassed about it, he’s weirdly good at making it feel lighter. he’ll grin, bump your shoulder gently, and say something like, “don’t worry, I’ve seen worse coordination from people who were trying.” he keeps the mood easy, but he’s always right there afterward, making sure you’re steady before he lets you wander off again.
⸻
leah clearwater
leah reacts like she’s already tired of the concept of you and gravity having ongoing negotiations. the first time you walk into a wall mid-conversation, she just stops, stares, and lets out a short, unimpressed exhale. “seriously?” is all she says at first, like she’s debating whether this is even worth reacting to.
she definitely teases you, but in a dry, blunt way that somehow still feels oddly protective. if you accidentally fling an empty milk jug across the room, she’ll watch it go, then look back at you like you’ve personally offended physics. “you do that on purpose at this point,” she mutters, already moving to make sure you didn’t actually hurt yourself.
what makes leah different is that she doesn’t soften it with a lot of verbal reassurance—she shows it in action instead. she starts quietly adjusting her space around you without making a big deal out of it. stepping between you and sharp corners without comment, nudging obstacles out of your path with a foot, catching your arm before you even realize you needed catching.
she also gets weirdly efficient about it. like she’s decided clumsiness is just another problem to manage. “don’t walk there,” she’ll say flatly, already steering you away from whatever you were about to collide with next. it’s not coddling—it’s more like she’s refusing to let you inconvenience yourself again.
and underneath all the sarcasm, there’s this steady, low-key care she doesn’t advertise. if you actually get embarrassed, she doesn’t pile on. she just looks at you for a second, expression softening just slightly, and goes, “you’re fine,” like it’s the end of the discussion. she’ll still complain about you walking into objects five minutes later, but she’ll also be the first one there to make sure you don’t do it twice in a row.
⸻
seth clearwater
seth is the kind of person who notices your clumsiness and immediately decides it’s one of your most endearing traits. the first time you walk into a wall mid-conversation, he freezes for half a second—concern first, laughter second—then quickly steps over with that bright, soft smile of his. “okay, that was definitely the wall’s fault,” he says, like it’s the most reasonable conclusion in the world.
he laughs at the little things, but never in a way that makes you feel self-conscious. if you accidentally send an empty milk jug flying across the room, seth will actually look impressed before anything else. “wait—that went far,” he says, like you’ve just demonstrated an unexpected skill rather than committed a minor act of chaos.
what’s really noticeable with seth is how quickly he adjusts to you without it feeling like a conscious effort. he starts walking a half-step closer in tight spaces, gently guiding you around corners with light touches that never feel intrusive. if you’re distracted, he’ll quietly say things like “careful” or “step here,” but always in that warm, easy tone that makes it feel more like teamwork than correction.
he also never lets you sit in embarrassment for long. if you start getting flustered about bumping into things, he’ll just smile at you like it’s the most normal thing in the world and say something soft like, “hey, it happens,” as if it’s genuinely not a big deal at all. and somehow, coming from him, it really doesn’t feel like one.
seth ends up being the kind of person who just naturally becomes your safe space in motion. he still laughs when you misjudge a step or collide with something unexpected, but it’s always paired with him already reaching out to steady you, already making sure you’re okay before the moment even fully settles.
