#wolfpack twilight

𐙚 being in a relationship with jacob

the moment jacob imprinted on you, it hit him like a collision.

one second he was walking through the woods. the next, your laugh cracked through the trees and he froze. the world tunneled. everything else faded.

and you, you, suddenly became the center of his universe.

for days after, he couldn’t stop staring at you.

not in a creepy way, but in the i-don’t-know-how-i-ever-lived-without-you kind of way. the pack teased him mercilessly for it.

“jake, dude. seriously, you’re smiling at your phone like she’s gonna text by telepathy.”

“shut up, paul.”

jacob was terrified to tell you about the imprint at first. not because he didn’t want it. god, he wanted you. but because he didn’t want you to feel pressured.

“you’ve got a choice,” he said, quietly, eyes locked on yours. “even if the universe picked you for me… you still get to pick me, too.”

when you finally admitted you felt it too. that inexplicable pull, that comfort in his presence, the way his arms felt more like home than your own bed, he physically exhaled in relief. then pulled you into the tightest hug you’d ever felt.

jacob is fiercely protective of you. not possessive, but primal. the moment anyone makes you uncomfortable, he’s beside you in a blink, tall and broad and unreadable.

“everything okay?”

just those two words. calm, low, and absolutely threatening.

his wolf instincts are always on when it comes to you. you could be across the field at a bonfire, talking to someone else, and he still notices the way your shoulders tense or your fingers fidget.

he’s always watching, always tuned in to your energy.

you calm his wolf better than anything else. when he phases back after a bad patrol, he finds you. buries his face in your neck. breathes you in.

“you keep me human,” he whispers once. “don’t even know if you realize it.”

physical affection is nonstop.

jacob is a furnace and he’s always wrapping around you. laying his head in your lap, pulling you into his hoodie, holding your hand under the table like he needs the anchor.

and when you’re not around, he wears your scent like armor.

the first time you get sick or hurt? jacob panics.

he’s at your side in seconds, flustered, pacing, asking if you need anything, until you tug on his shirt and say, “just stay.”

so he does. he stays until you fall asleep. and then longer.

imprint fights hit differently.

not because you argue often, but because when you do, it hurts. like a soul-level tear. he can feel your pain, and it drives him mad.

he’ll give you space if you ask, but he paces, restless, desperate to fix it.

“i hate when we’re like this. i can’t… breathe right without you.”

the bond gives jacob this uncanny ability to know what you need before you do.

he shows up with your favorite snacks after a long day. hands you his hoodie when you’re just starting to feel cold. pulls you into his chest the second your anxiety spikes, even if you haven’t said a word.

he’s so gentle with you. for someone who’s built of muscle and heat and power, he holds you like you’re made of light.

jacob kisses your temple like a promise. runs his thumb along your jaw when you’re tired, like he’s reminding himself you’re real.

sometimes you wake up and find him staring at you, eyes warm, voice still raspy from sleep:

“how’d i get so lucky?”

and when you say you love him. genuinely, freely, not because of the imprint but because you chose him, he breaks. full-body stillness, eyes wet, voice cracking.

“you mean that? you really… love me? because, god, i’ve loved you for so long, i don’t know how to be without you anymore.”

jacob black is so touchy once you’re together.

he always has a hand on you, wrapped around your waist, fingers laced with yours, a casual arm draped over your shoulders, even when you’re just standing in line somewhere.

it’s instinctive. protective. warm. grounding.

he calls you “babe” most of the time, but sometimes, when he’s sleepy or worried, he murmurs “sweetheart” under his breath like he doesn’t even realize it’s slipped out.

he builds you things. shelves, little wooden carvings, a custom seat for the back of his bike. he never says it outright, but he wants to leave his mark in your space. proof that he’s there, and not going anywhere.

you always know when something’s wrong because jacob shuts down. his jaw clenches. he gets quiet. he’ll go on a run to clear his head, but when he comes back, he always wraps you in the tightest hug, like he needs to feel you breathe just to calm down.

you once told him, half-jokingly, that you liked wolves. now he brings you random little wolf trinkets and says things like “thought you’d want something that looked like me,” with a cocky smirk and that damn dimple.

the first time he got really hurt on patrol, he tried to hide it. didn’t want you to worry. you found out anyway and lost it on him, tears in your eyes. he was stunned into silence.

the next day, he showed up with a small first-aid kit and asked if you could keep it “just in case.” he never hides injuries again.

jealous jacob is very real.

even if someone just looks at you the wrong way, his entire body tenses. you’ll grab his hand and squeeze it to ground him, whispering, “you’ve got nothing to worry about, jake.” he just kisses your knuckles and glares at the guy over your shoulder anyway.

the pack knows not to make any comments about you around him.

once, paul made a teasing joke, and jacob had him pinned to a tree in seconds. “say something like that again, and i’ll send you to the fucking hospital.”

he loves when you sit in his lap. like… loves it.

especially when you’re both hanging with the pack and you settle there without thinking. he gets all smug and wraps his arms around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

he’s surprisingly insecure at times. not because of you, but because he worries he’s too much. too intense, too broken, too wrapped up in the world he didn’t choose.

you always make him look at you when he spirals, pressing your hand to his chest and saying, “you’re more than enough. and you’re mine.”

jacob leaves your favorite snacks in your bag or car when he knows he’ll be gone for patrol. they’re always labeled in sharpie:

“for my girl. don’t forget to eat.”

“miss you already :(.”

“my pretty girl, i love you.”

jacob is so softly obsessed with you. the way you talk with your hands. how you hum while brushing your teeth. the little crease in your brow when you read. he memorizes it all.

sometimes, when you’re sleeping, he stays up just watching you. he brushes your hair back, traces the curve of your cheek with his finger, and whispers, “you don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”

when you say “i love you” out of nowhere, he melts. no matter how many times you say it, it still stuns him.

“again,” he whispers. “please, say it again.”

🌹 for you :)

🌙 Wolf Pack x Reader

“You Hug Them From Behind While They Sleep”

Summary-Even the strongest wolves melt when it’s you wrapping your arms around them in the quiet of night. Sometimes, they can just be held.

A/N-Thanks so much for the request! I loved writing this soft moment with the wolf pack. Always happy to bring your ideas to life! And 🌸 for you;)

⸻

🐺 Sam Uley

Even in sleep, Sam’s hyper-aware of everything. At first, his body tenses the moment he feels you shift behind him—but the second your arms slip around his waist, his shoulders drop. He exhales deeply and covers your hands with his own, thumb brushing across your knuckles. You hear him murmur your name like a quiet promise before drifting back to sleep, his breathing syncing with yours.

⸻

like this

𐙚 you’re his imprint and sam uley’s niece

seth imprints instantly the second you arrive in la push for the summer.

you’re standing on sam and emily’s porch, hugging emily tightly when seth pulls up with jacob. he’s laughing at something, casual and carefree, until he sees you.

the imprint hit him like a thunderclap in his ribs. not painful, just loud. like the world had been blurry and suddenly snapped into focus with one glance.

his wolf instincts were screaming “hers, hers, hers” while his human brain was trying to figure out how to breathe again.

you turn around, meet his gaze, and smile warmly like you’ve known him forever. “oh, hi! i’m y/n.”

warmth blooms in his chest like sunlight after a storm, and he can’t help the huge, dopey smile that spreads across his face. sam and emily immediately notice.

“oh no,” sam mutters under his breath.

jacob elbows seth, but he’s speechless. all he can say is, “hi…” like a boy falling in love for the first time.

but you’re so you. full of energy, sarcastic without being mean, and so easy to talk to that seth forgets to be shy. you two fall into step like you’ve been friends forever.

he laughs so much when he’s around you.

you’ll poke his sides, race him through the woods, pull him into the rain because you love storms, and he’s just enchanted.

you’re both radiant, kind-hearted, and endlessly warm like two beams of sunlight naturally gravitating toward each other.

because you totally match.

you both dance in the kitchen while making midnight snacks, make dumb inside jokes that no one else understands, and have matching mosquito bite scars from falling asleep in the woods once.

when you two are together, it’s like watching golden retrievers fall in love. laughing at everything, brushing against each other without realizing it, always in sync.

the pack calls it “puppy love” behind your back because honestly, no one has ever made seth light up the way you do.

seth will literally beam when you walk into a room. tail-wagging-energy levels of happy. you’ll just smile at him and say, “what?” and he shrugs like, “nothing. just… i’m happy you’re here.”

you steal his hoodies even though you have your own. he never asks for them back. he just watches you wear them with hearts in his eyes.

sam is so conflicted. he trusts seth with his life but you’re his niece. you’re his sunshine.

he’s a protective older brother figure and it shows.

“no funny business, clearwater.”

“sam, he’s literally just passing me the ketchup.”

he insists on calling seth by his last name now just to intimidate him. and eventually installs extra lighting on your porch after your first date night.

seth: “is that a security camera?”

sam: “is that a hand on her waist?”

seth immediately steps back.

but deep down, sam sees the way seth treats you. with patience, gentleness, and awe. and that’s what really matters.

eventually, he tells seth, “you’re a good kid, seth. if it had to be anyone… i’m glad it’s you.”

seth gets choked up. “thank you, sir,” he whispers.

seth can’t stop staring at you when you’re focused on something. reading a book, drawing, talking animatedly with someone.

it’s not even subtle. he just goes into heart-eyes mode and zones out.

“seth. dude. blinking is free,” embry teases. “shut up, i’m admiring my future wife,” seth says, dead serious.

seth never stops being gentle with you.

whenever you’re having a bad day, he’ll phase and just let you cuddle against his massive wolf form like a pillow. warm, fuzzy, protective. your personal emotional support werewolf.

you wear seth’s wolf pendant because he told you it brings him luck. he didn’t expect you to never take it off and it makes him so happy.

seth constantly brings you little gifts from patrols. flowers, cool rocks, sometimes feathers, and says things like, “this reminded me of you.”

the pack teases him relentlessly. “our little golden boy’s in love.” seth just grins. “yeah. i am.”

you both volunteer at the community center. you’re terrible at organizing papers, but seth lets you be in charge anyway, just to watch your excited rambling.

long walks on the beach holding pinky fingers, running races through the forest, sharing apple slices. just soft. everything about you two is soft.

you’re the only one allowed to ruffle his hair. anyone else tries? he ducks or growls. you? you tug his curls and laugh and he just melts.

he’s not usually the possessive type, but he gets so protective when other guys flirt with you. not in a toxic way, more like a confused puppy watching a stranger try to take his favorite toy.

something primal kicks in. he doesn’t growl but he steps in with a hand on your lower back and a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

he’ll wrap an arm around your waist and say, “she’s kinda taken, actually.”

you: “kinda?”

seth panics, “i mean completely! totally. you’re mine. wait— not mine like mine, just… you know. we are… you know.”

seth imprinted on you weeks ago but he hasn’t rushed anything. he’s been patient, gentle, respectful. he wants you to fall in love with him on your own, imprint or not. but oh boy… he’s so clearly in love.

constant smiles when you talk. nervous hand touches. blushing whenever you lean in close. he wants to kiss you, he’s just waiting for the perfect moment.

you’re not oblivious to the tension, either. the warmth in his gaze, the way he lingers just a second longer when he hugs you… your heart flutters more every time.

and lately, you’ve started wondering, why hasn’t he kissed me yet?

it’s autumn. seth plans a casual date to take you hiking to a pretty overlook just before sunset. “i found this spot last week, i think you’d like it” he says shyly, cheeks pink.

it’s quiet. peaceful. extremely beautiful. and just a little wild around the edges. just like you.

he carries your backpack the whole time. keeps glancing at you when he thinks you’re not looking. holds out his hand to help you over logs or steep parts of the trail and doesn’t let go after.

when you finally get to the overlook, the sky is all painted in amber and lilac. the wind is soft. the view is unreal, but all seth can look at is you.

you sit beside him on a mossy rock, your knees barely touching, and you’re both quiet. not awkward, just so full of blooming feelings.

“you always get quiet when you’re happy,” you tease.

he grins and looks down, a little nervous. “just don’t wanna ruin it. this— this moment. you… us.”

you turn to look at him and realize, he’s already staring at you. like you hung the sun. like he’s aching to kiss you, but too afraid to mess it up.

“seth…” you whisper.

he leans in a little, eyes flicking to your lips. “can i—?”

you nod.

it’s so gentle at first. he kisses you like he’s afraid you might break. like he’s memorizing the feeling. one hand cradles your cheek, thumb brushing your skin.

he pulls back barely an inch, breathless. “wow,” he whispers, eyes closed in awe. “thank god.”

you giggle, heart racing. “that was overdue.”

“can i do it again?” he asks, already leaning in and grinning this time.

the second kiss is warmer, sweeter, more sure. he pulls you closer, arms wrapped around your waist now, and you can feel him smiling against your lips.

you rest your forehead against his, laughing quietly. he’s glowing. like actual sunshine in human form.

“so… does this make it official?” you ask softly, love-shining eyes looking up at him.

he just beams and kisses your nose. “i’m yours. always was.”

on the way back down the trail, he holds your hand the entire time. every few steps, he tugs you close for another quick kiss. “sorry. i’m gonna be annoying now. can’t help it.”

later, he walks you to your door, kisses your hand, and says with puppy eyes, “text me when you’re in bed, okay? i wanna wish you good night before sleeping, is that okay?” you just melt.

he now greets you with that huge, boyish grin and a “hi, baby!” every single time, even if he just saw you five minutes ago.

he’s always touching you in soft, casual ways. looping his arm around your shoulders, playing with your fingers, resting his head on your shoulder like a sleepy pup.

when you laugh, he lights up like a christmas tree.

he picks you flowers. all the time. you mention liking daisies once, and suddenly he’s handing you a tiny bouquet every few days like it’s a reflex.

“for you,” he says, all shy smile and pink cheeks, like it isn’t the hundredth time.

he lives for physical affection. cuddling? yes. hand-holding? yes. falling asleep with your head on his chest while he plays with your hair? double yes.

he does that thing where he nuzzles into your neck and sighs, like he’s finally at peace. “you smell so good.”

he wakes you up with kisses. gentle ones. all over your face. cheek, nose, forehead, lips. “rise and shine, angel,” he whispers with a grin, still in that soft morning voice that makes you melt.

seth loves slow dancing with you for no reason. even if there’s no music. just pulls you into his arms in the middle of the kitchen.

absolutely the kind of boyfriend to pick you up and spin you around when he’s excited.

he doesn’t just say “i love you”, he shows it in a million tiny ways. carrying your bag, brushing snow out of your hair, letting you steal fries without a single complaint.

he’ll walk on the side of the sidewalk closer to traffic without saying a word. always opens doors for you. always checks in.

sees you shiver once and immediately takes off his jacket, puts it on you, and then grins like he just fixed world hunger.

he tucks your hair behind your ear mid-conversation. you’re talking about something random, and he’s just gazing at you with so much love in his eyes, brushing your hair back like you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever touched.

if anyone makes you uncomfortable, his whole posture shifts. he’s still smiling but it’s tight. he’ll wrap an arm around you like, “you good, baby?” and you know he’s watching.

sends you the most unhinged texts just to make you laugh. memes. selfies with ridiculous captions. “rate my hair. be honest. 1-10. i’ll cry if it’s below 9.”

he falls asleep holding your hand, even when you’re just watching a movie. it’s instinct. his hand finds yours like it’s magnetic.

makes you friendship bracelets. wears the one you gave him until it falls apart, then ties it back together with a string from your hoodie.

gets pouty if you don’t kiss him goodbye. “wait—baby, you forgot something,” he says, pointing to his cheek. “i will collapse if you leave me like this.”

you once kissed the corner of his mouth instead of the center. he blushed so hard. “you missed,” he whispered, already leaning in for another. “here, let me help you.”

when you say “i love you” he goes still. his eyes get wide. and then he just beams. blinding, disbelieving joy.

“you mean it?” he whispers, hands gently cupping your face.

and when you nod, he kisses you like it’s the first time. gentle, reverent. sacred.

“i love you so much, it makes my heart hurt a little.”

sometimes, he’ll whisper “mine” into your hair when he hugs you. not possessive, just awestruck. like he still can’t believe the universe gave him you.

synopsis: the wolfpack boy’s type, including both physical and personality traits.

a/n: this is not 100% accurate and it’s not intended to be. i just wrote a general idea considering their personalities and traits. do not take this seriously.

pairing/s: paul lahote, jacob black, embry call, quil ateara, jared cameron, seth clearwater, sam uley, leah clearwater

masterlist | check out my other work !

paul lahote

vibe: hotheaded and feral but down so bad for his girl.

physical type: intimidated by literally no one. he lowkey loves a short girl he can toss around, but bold girls? strong girls? a girl who looks like she knows exactly what she wants or can fight with words? he’s obsessed. he wants someone who walks into a room and knows her power.

personality type: sarcastic, bold, mouthy. he’s into the type who won’t put up with his temper, someone who throws it right back. he needs a girl with fire, but also someone who softens around him, just him. the contrast ruins him.

why: because paul’s spent most of his life feeling like a weapon. he wants to feel wanted, not feared. he needs someone who chooses him even when he’s rough around the edges.

“i don’t care if you yell at me. just don’t walk away. not you.”

jacob black

vibe: golden retriever energy meets his person.

physical type: loves girls with expressive eyes, soft features, and a warm smile. whether you’re tall or short, curvy or petite, it doesn’t matter, as long as you feel like home. he has a soft spot for messy hair and bare faces.

personality type: loyal, passionate, a little stubborn. he falls hard for the girl who challenges him, who doesn’t baby him, and who tells him to quit sulking and get back up. he’s attracted to warmth and playfulness, but also someone who can call him out when he’s too hung up on the past.

why: jacob has spent so much of his life trying to be enough for people who look the other way. so when someone sees him clearly, chooses him, and doesn’t just fall into his arms, he’s hooked.

“you’re the first person who looked at me like i wasn’t just the backup plan.”

embry call

vibe: golden boy, underrated sweetheart, shy wolf energy.

physical type: has a weakness for bright eyes and dimples, especially if you don’t even realize you have them. he notices the way your cheeks flush, the way your sleeves are too long, the way you smile when no one’s watching.

personality type: gentle, kind, emotionally intuitive, maybe a little quirky. he falls for the quiet strength, the girl who loves deeply but doesn’t need to be loud about it. bonus points if you’re a little nerdy or artsy.

why: because embry feels things deeply. he wants someone he can be soft with. he craves stability, gentlenes. he’d worship a soft-hearted girl like she hung the moon.

“you looked at me once and i haven’t been the same since.”

jared cameron

vibe: class clown with a flirty streak.

physical type: loves expressive girls. someone who talks with her hands, has dramatic eye rolls, or has a big laugh. he’s super into curves, but honestly? if you can pull off oversized hoodies and messy buns, he’s done for.

personality type: outgoing, witty, and someone who can keep up with his fast-paced brain. he’s drawn to confidence but secretly adores when you get shy and flustered because of him.

why: because jared thrives on connection and laughter. he wants someone who feels like sunshine in human form and who never lets life get too heavy.

“you’re my favorite person, i’d choose you every damn day.”

seth clearwater

vibe: cinnamon roll with a warrior’s heart.

physical type: seth has zero “type” physically. he’s all about the energy. but he blushes like hell over cute girls who smile at him. dimples, freckles, glasses? he’s toast.

personality type: kind, genuine, and hopeful. he falls for the girl who believes in people. someone who’s kind to animals and old people, who cries over movies and is passionate about weird little things.

why: because seth is the best of them all, honestly. he needs someone who reminds him of everything worth protecting.

“i didn’t know i could love someone this much until you laughed at my dumb joke.”

quil ateara

vibe: loyal to the core, a bit of a dork.

physical type: cuteness overload. he’s into girls who feel comfortable. comfy sweaters, cozy scents, soft hands. he doesn’t care about body type, he cares about how you feel when he hugs you.

personality type: bubbly, giggly, playful. quil falls for the “best friend” type. someone who teases him, shares inside jokes, isn’t afraid to get messy. he loves a playful girl who knows how to be serious when it counts. a little chaotic? sure. a little clingy? even better.

why: because he’s looking for his forever person, someone who can make a tuesday feel like magic just by being next to him.

“every good thing reminds me of you now. that’s how i know.”

sam uley

vibe: old-soul energy, loyal to a fault, carries silent guilt.

physical type: sam is drawn to subtle beauty, he notices things others overlook. the curve of your neck when your hair is tied up. the way your hands move when you’re focused. he’s not flashy or superficial; he’s mesmerized by grace.

personality type: calm, mature, deeply rooted. sam falls hard for the girl with quiet strength who speaks gently but never backs down when it counts. he needs someone who sees through the calm exterior to the storm underneath and stays anyway. bonus if she’s a little stubborn, it keeps him grounded.

why: because sam has spent years putting others first and protecting everyone else that he forgot what it feels like to be cared for without expectations. he needs someone who’s a safe place, a reminder that he’s allowed to be more than just “the alpha.”

“i can carry the world, but you make me want to come home.”

leah clearwater

vibe: sharp-tongued, battle-scarred, untouchable. until she’s not.

physical type: leah’s always pretending she doesn’t care. but deep down? she melts for girls who wear too much eyeliner or none at all, who wear rings on every finger. there’s something magnetic about someone who carries herself with pride.

personality type: she loves someone calm. steady. soft-spoken. a girl who isn’t afraid of her sharp edges but doesn’t try to fix her either. someone who listens. someone who stays.

why: because leah has lost too much. she wants someone who chooses her. not despite her pain, but because of how she survived it.

“i don’t need saving. i just… i want you to stay.”

synopsis: how they'd react if they went shopping with their s/o and they see them looking for a new pair of lingerie/cute underwear.

pairing/s: paul lahote, jacob black, embry call, quil ateara, jared cameron, seth clearwater, sam uley, leah clearwater

masterlist | check out my other work !

paul lahote

paul wasn’t even paying attention to what aisle you wandered into until he noticed you slow down, then stop, in front of a wall of lace, silk, and soft pastel fabrics.

at first, his brow twitches. confusion turns to amusement fast. “wait—this is what you were looking for?” he asks, voice low and already laced with mischief.

when he sees you pick up a delicate little set. lace-trimmed, pale blush, his entire demeanor changes.

smirk mode: activated.

he steps closer, arms folded across his broad chest, head tilted slightly as he watches you pretend to inspect tags. “i mean… if you’re trying to kill me, just say so.”

he doesn’t get shy. not paul. if anything, he enjoys the idea that you’re looking at something sexy for yourself because he’s the one who gets to see it.

picks up a darker, more sultry pair and holds it out to you with a grin: “this one. definitely this one. you should try it on. for research purposes.”

if you so much as blush? he’s thrilled. will lean in and murmur something like, “don’t get all shy on me now. you started this, sweetheart.”

absolutely insists on buying it for you and wants to carry the bag out, pride written all over his face. you’re his girl, and he’s not quiet about how lucky he is.

jacob black

jacob’s totally content following you around the store, not really paying attention, until you veer off into a corner he wasn’t expecting.

the lingerie section.

his steps immediately falter. he doesn’t want to seem weird about it, but the moment he sees you scanning a rack of lacy bralettes, his ears turn bright red.

“uh… this the right aisle?” he asks, trying to sound casual, even though his voice cracks a little at the end.

you don’t even respond, you’re already holding up a set to inspect. and that’s when jacob’s brain starts to short-circuit.

he can’t stop glancing. can’t stop imagining. you in something soft and sheer, maybe in his hoodie right after.

“you… you’d look really good in that,” he mumbles without meaning to. the second he realizes it, he groans and covers his face. “shit, forget i said that.”

you laugh, and that only makes him more flustered. you teasing him? game over.

“this is so unfair,” he grumbles under his breath. “you’re not even doing anything, and i’m losing my mind over here.”

he walks out of the store with his arm around your shoulders and the most intense internal monologue of all time.

embry call

embry’s always been a little awkward with attention, especially when it comes to you. so when you intentionally drag him into the underwear section while out shopping? he’s already sweating.

he tries to play it cool. tries to keep his hands in his pockets, tries to hum some tune and look away. but he fails instantly the second you lift up something silky and say, “do you think this color would look good on me?”

he makes a choked noise. his whole body jerks slightly like he’s been electrocuted.

“i—uh—y-yeah. that’d look amazing. wait—i mean good. just—good. totally appropriate.”

he’s so red in the face. you could probably fry an egg on his cheek.

he peeks at the tag like he’s examining battle strategy, then whispers, “are you getting that for…you know. wearing around the house? or…like. just…wha—what’s the purpose?”

you tease him about being flustered and he covers his eyes.

but even through the nerves, he genuinely thinks you’re beautiful no matter what you wear. so when you ask which one he likes, he points to something soft, cozy-looking, not too flashy.

“this one,” he says quietly, handing it to you like it’s a sacred artifact. “you’d be comfortable in it. and you’d still make my heart stop.”

jared cameron

jared walks into the lingerie section like it’s the highlight of his day.

he’s not shy. not even close. “oh, we’re going in here? finally,” he jokes, grinning.

the moment you start flipping through the hangers, he’s already at your side, picking out options. “okay, but look at this one. it’s got your name all over it.”

jared treats it like a fun game. he’ll toss out ridiculous suggestions just to make you laugh, then sneak in one that actually makes you blush.

“you keep reacting like that and i will ask you to try it on right now,” he teases, voice low and teasingly serious.

he watches your face more than the clothes, lives for your flustered expressions.

if someone else walks by and gives you a look while you’re holding something sultry? jared steps closer, voice dropping: “keep lookin’ and you’ll go blind.”

he pays for it all without hesitation and tucks the bag under his arm with a proud smile.

“don’t worry, babe,” he says with a wink. “i’ll help you decide which one’s best later. in private.”

seth clearwater

poor seth. the minute he realizes you’re looking at underwear, he nearly combusts.

“oh! oh—uh—y-you’re shopping for that kind of stuff?”

he stands a full foot away from you like he might get struck by lightning just for being near a pair of lacy panties.

he keeps trying so hard not to look, but curiosity always wins.

when you hold up a cute, pastel bralette and ask what he thinks, he freezes. his mouth opens, no words come out. he just nods rapidly.

“yep. cute. definitely cute. super… lacy. i mean—lovely.”

if you tease him by grabbing something bolder, like red lace or black satin, he gasps. “that’s—um—that’s—wow. you’d—uh—you’d wear that? for… like… sleep?”

later, as you’re checking out, he tugs at your sleeve and whispers, “i think you’d look beautiful in anything… but that one? that one’s gonna live in my head forever.”

his honesty is so endearing, and his face is red the entire drive home.

quil ateara

quil’s the type to notice instantly what aisle you’re walking into and make a comment before you even grab something.

“ohhh no. you’re doing this to torture me, aren’t you?”

he follows behind you with a dramatic sigh, hands in his hoodie pockets, eyes twinkling.

“i swear, if you hold up something with bows or frilly lace, i’m going to melt into the floor.”

and then you do, and he does.

he pretends to faint. literally leans back like he’s about to collapse. “have mercy.”

picks out a ridiculous novelty pair first (think: glitter hearts), just to make you snort. but then he finds one that’s genuinely sexy, holds it up thoughtfully, and gets weirdly quiet.

“you’d look so good in this. like, dangerous.”

when you actually buy it, he jokes the whole time but his hand stays firmly at the small of your back.

that night, when you wear it? his first words are, “okay. yep. dead. you killed me. worth it.”

sam uley

sam is calm, composed, and entirely unreadable. at least on the outside.

the second you start browsing lingerie, he’s beside you with one eyebrow lifted. “lingerie shopping, huh?” he murmurs, voice deep and smooth.

there’s something in his tone that makes the back of your neck heat up.

he doesn’t tease. doesn’t get flustered. he just watches you with this quiet, intense gaze that says everything.

when you lift a black lace set to inspect, he steps closer. “you’d look stunning in that,” he says simply, like it’s a fact.

if another guy walks past and looks at you too long? sam’s hand tightens slightly on your hip. that protective, alpha instinct doesn’t sleep.

helps you find your size without hesitation and is absurdly practical, until you try to call him out on enjoying it too much.

“maybe i am,” he says, low and husky. “but you knew what you were doing bringing me here, didn’t you?”

by the time you leave, his arm is around your waist, and he’s leaning down to murmur in your ear, “you’re wearing that for me later. no arguments.”

leah clearwater

leah doesn’t usually linger in stores longer than necessary. she likes getting in, getting what she needs, and getting out. especially if the store’s crowded.

so when you pull her gently toward the lingerie section, she blinks, glances at the signs overhead, and says with a dry laugh, “oh, so we’re going there today?”

her tone’s light, a little sarcastic, but not biting because even if she doesn’t say it aloud, she’ll follow you anywhere.

she stands at your side as you browse, arms folded and eyes scanning the displays with a raised brow. you half-expect her to scoff at the lace and silk, but instead, she just murmurs, “some of this stuff looks like it’d fall apart in the wash.”

still… she lingers. quietly. watches you sift through colors and fabrics like she’s memorizing which ones you’re drawn to.

when you hold up a soft, lilac set. more cute than bold, leah’s eyes soften. she clears her throat. “that’s nice. you’d look really good in that.”

there’s no teasing in her voice, no biting remark, just quiet honesty.

and when you smile at her reaction, she shifts her weight awkwardly, glancing down. “what?” she mumbles. “i’m allowed to have taste.”

you ask if she wants to help you pick one out, and she hesitates. for a second, you think she’s going to say no but then she reaches for a muted wine-colored bralette and matching bottoms. “this one,” she says, holding it out gently. “i think it’d suit you. strong. subtle. pretty.”

she says the last word a little softer, barely audible, and you catch her biting the inside of her cheek when your eyes meet.

leah’s not used to softness, not the romantic kind. but around you, it leaks through in little glances, brief touches, and quiet protectiveness.

when you head to the register, she walks close beside you, her hand brushing yours until she just grabs it outright.

“you don’t have to dress up for me,” she murmurs once you’re alone again. “i already think you’re beautiful.”

but then, just a beat later, a small smirk tugs at her lips as she adds, “still. if you do wear that one tonight, i’m not gonna complain.”

𐙚 best friends to lovers

you and seth have been best friends since elementary school.

it started because you sat next to him on the bus and shared your animal crackers with him when he forgot lunch. he never forgot that.

as kids, seth was your shadow.

always defending you from playground drama, showing up with extra juice boxes, and inviting you to every family bonfire, where you eventually became an honorary clearwater.

he always said you were “his person,” even when he was ten and didn’t fully know what that meant. you just smiled and agreed.

seth is your safe place.

you’ve always had a quiet comfort in each other’s presence. sleepovers where you fall asleep talking about the stars. sharing snacks on the porch. sending each other songs late at night with no context, just “this made me think of you.”

as you grow up, everyone assumes you’re dating.

you act like a couple; always sitting close, finishing each other’s sentences, playfully bickering but whenever someone points it out, you both deny it with a little too much force.

“what? me and seth?”

“pfft, yeah, right.”

you don’t meet each other’s eyes for the rest of the day.

seth adores you.

even before the imprint, he’s already half in love.

he memorizes the way your laugh sounds in different situations, how you bite your cheek when you’re nervous, the way you hum under your breath while reading.

he never lets you walk home alone, even before the supernatural part of his life begins. “i don’t care if it’s two blocks,” he says, “you’re not going by yourself.”

the moment before the imprint, he’s already protective but still sweet and goofy. he thinks nothing could change how natural things feel between you.

he doesn’t realize how much more intense it’s about to get.

when seth phases for the first time, everything changes, but he doesn’t tell you right away.

not because he doesn’t want to, but because he’s terrified of losing your friendship once you learn the truth.

it happens suddenly.

one second he’s mid-run in the woods on patrol, the next he smells you. not your usual scent, but stronger, laced with worry. he realizes you’re nearby. maybe lost. maybe in danger.

when he sees you, standing by the treeline looking for your phone signal, you turn around and look directly at him. his wolf instincts stutter, everything in the universe sharpens.

boom. the imprint slams into him.

the first thing he feels is clarity. like the whole world zoomed out and aligned around you. his wolf goes still. calm. like, there you are.

his first instinct is to run to you, shield you, because suddenly, keeping you safe feels more important than breathing.

but he doesn’t tell you.

he shifts back and hides behind the same warm smile he’s always used. because now it’s not just friendship, it’s sacred. it’s soul-deep. and he can’t risk scaring you off.

she’s mine, echoes in his mind, but not in a possessive way. it’s reverent.

he becomes a mess, internally. outside, he’s still your seth. joking, sweet, reliable. but inside? he’s buzzing.

every time you smile, his heartbeat stutters. every time you hug him, he thinks he might die.

he starts noticing everything.

like when you fake a smile or when your hands are cold. he sees the little things no one else does. and it kills him not to just pull you in and tell you that he’s yours.

the wolf instincts are overwhelming.

he can feel your emotions, especially when they’re strong. when you’re stressed or anxious, he paces, restless and wired. when you’re sad, he shows up at your door without a word and just stays until you smile again.

suddenly, he’s more protective.

when you’re hurt, even slightly, he panics. you trip on a rock? he’s already at your side, brushing dirt from your palms with shaking hands. “are you okay? are you sure?”

you start noticing little changes.

he holds eye contact longer. hugs you tighter. stares when you’re not looking. you catch him looking at your lips sometimes, only for him to blush and look away.

you brush it off because he’s seth. sweet, goofy, golden-hearted seth. your best friend.

you don’t want to ruin that either.

there’s a quiet ache in the air whenever you’re alone.

the kind where your hands almost touch but don’t. where you both laugh too hard, sit too close, and then pretend you’re not thinking about it.

there are moments when he almost tells you:

in his truck, after you fall asleep against his shoulder during a late-night drive.

when you patch up his bruised knuckles after a patrol gone wrong and your fingers linger on his skin.

after a beach bonfire, when the stars are bright, and you ask, half-joking, “do you think soulmates are real?”

each time, he bites it back. you’re not ready. he knows when you are, he’ll feel it.

sometimes you feel it too, even if you don’t understand it.

the magnetic pull toward him. the way your chest aches when you see him laugh with someone else. the safety you feel just from standing close to him.

you have dreams about him. dreams that feel like memories that haven’t happened yet.

in them, he’s always holding you. protecting you. loving you in a way that makes your whole soul feel seen.

one day, you’re injured. not badly, just a sprained ankle, and seth panics.

he carries you like you weigh nothing, his heart pounding like something’s wrong, even though you’re laughing through the pain.

“don’t do that,” he says, voice trembling. “don’t scare me like that again.”

you don’t understand why he’s so upset… but you can feel the depth of it in his voice. it feels like it’s coming from someplace deeper than friendship.

it finally spills out during a fight.

not a real one, just one of those heated moments where years of tension and silence catch fire.

maybe you nearly get hurt while hiking or walking home late. seth shows up furious, breathless, eyes wild.

“you can’t just disappear like that,” he snaps.

“seth, i was fine.”

“not to me. you’re not just—you don’t get it.”

and then the words tumble out. the imprint. the years of love. the way he’s been holding it all in because he didn’t want to risk losing you.

“i didn’t want to be selfish,” he says. “i didn’t want you to feel trapped. but every part of me belongs to you. it always has.”

you don’t say anything at first. you just look at him, really look at him. and suddenly everything clicks.

the way your heart always knew to run to him first. the dreams. the ache. the warmth. it’s him. it’s always been him.

the first time you kiss, it’s hesitant. gentle. like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. you press your forehead to his after and whisper, “you waited for me.”

he just smiles like he’s finally breathing after years underwater. “i’d wait a thousand years for you.”

the relationship is so gentle at first. seth treats you like something precious, even more than before like every moment is a gift he doesn’t deserve.

he never pushes. never rushes. the imprint gave him clarity, but he still wants every laugh, every date, every handhold to be a choice. your choice.

and god, he’s so in love with you.

he’s still your best friend, but now he holds your hand like he’ll never let go. hugs you longer. kisses you like he’s been dreaming about it for years. (and he has.)

he watches you like the sun rises just for you. he lights up every time you walk in the room. when he says “i love you” for the first time, it’s not dramatic. it’s quiet. like a truth he’s carried forever.

seth doesn’t love halfway.

his affection is pure and loud and full of joy. he looks at you like the world finally makes sense. like all the pain and loss he went through had to happen just to lead him to you.

the pack knew. of course they did. seth was the worst at hiding it.

he’s an absolute golden retriever boyfriend once you start dating. always grinning at you. always reaching for your hand. always bragging to the pack like he just won the lottery.

he kisses your forehead constantly. like… constantly. before leaving. while you’re talking. after you laugh. he’s obsessed with it.

when you can’t sleep, he shifts into his wolf form and curls at the foot of your bed like a massive golden-furred guardian.

the first time he does it, you whisper, “good boy,” and he lets out the softest, most embarrassed whine.

whenever you’re curled into his chest or falling asleep next to him, his wolf finally feels at peace. because you’re safe. you’re his. and you love him back.

When Their Imprint Travels for Work

Pairing: Twilight Wolf Pack x Reader (Imprint)

Summary: Their imprint has a job that keeps them on the road, and while the wolves try to act cool, they’re not as chill as they think.

Warning: Fluff, long-distance tension, clinginess, soft possessiveness

⸻

Sam Uley

At first? Silent panic. Sam is used to control, to knowing where you are and how you’re doing.

He tries not to guilt you, but every time you pack your bags, his jaw tightens and his arms wrap around you like he’s afraid you won’t come back.

“Text me when you land. Every time.”

Tries to play calm alpha, but the second you’re out of cell range? Paces the woods like a storm.

But he’s also deeply proud of you.

“You’re doing what you love. That matters to me more than keeping you here.”

When you return? Expect to be wrapped up in a hug so strong it lifts you off the ground.

⸻