AN: Sooooooooooooo new story! I'm in absolute love with Paul/Bella...I love Paul. I do. I mean really. And fanfiction is treating my addition to them like I've tapped out every last resource to get a Paul/Bella story. I think this is completely and utterly false-I know I haven't read all the Paul/Bella's out there. Anyway, if anyone has some story recommendations, pm me or something so I can feed my obsession while I write this story, because I need an outlet in my life and this seems like a reeeeally good way to start! Yay! Onward with the writing and reading! And before I forget-Profanity (swearing) and sex (fucking, banging, rolling in the hay, romping, canoodling, etc) are going to be in this story, hence the M rating. Juuust want to see if you guys like the initial idea, before I tweak it a little.

Oh, and: I don't own any of this blah blah blah these aren't my characters I just fuck with the plot line and all that jazz.

Chapter One- Well, That Was Interesting

Anyone viewing this situation would find it comical, at the least. Four large, muscled and tan Quileute men, mouths dropped open in shock, all staring at this little slip of a girl who weighed hundred pounds soaking wet, who was staring back and forth between her own hand-the palm reddened-and the man who she had smacked. Said man's face was trapped somewhere between shock, and amusement, his lips curling into a smirk on one side while his eyes were unable to forget the fact that a 5'4 Bambi had stood up to him and smacked him across the face. . This of course all being watched by the best friend of the Bambi with the big brown eyes.


First of all, why the fuck did I have to be the one to imprint on the alpha prodigy's new toy?Second of all-Fate? You're absolutely fucked up. Connecting me to Isabella Swan, president of the glitterdick fan club? Not cool man, not cool. Or that I think about it... it would explain a lot of my life. Not only that, I hate weakness. If weakness were any help, I wouldn't have been so messed up as a kid. Isabella Swan has the ability to seep weakness from her pores... Or at least that was what I thought before my newly minted imprint grew a pair and hit me.

Now, I know I can be a dick- my ex-girlfriends have mentioned it, my friends have said it, hell I've had a teacher call me one in passing- But, no one in their right mind has ever stood up to me, let alone smacked me across the face. One minute I'm getting ready to tell brown eyes where she can shove her curiosity, and the next I'm practically ready to pee on her leg and marry her for eternity. I mean what, the fuck . Then of course my girl got all high-horsed on me and stomped right on over. Ha, fate smacked me in the face with the imprint, and then my imprint smacked me in the face. Fate is most definitely female.

A few snickers and Sam clearing his throat brought me back, and with a blink and a small shake of my head I allowed my eyes to scan over said little imprint, looking for injuries while also committing every inch of her to memory. I sadly acknowledged the curves of her body were hidden by a sweatshirt that reeked of Jacob Black.

Seriously, did he roll around on it and sleep in it before he gave it to her?

I looked over at Jacob and grinned immediately at the look of pure fury on his face, seeing as I was all up in his dream girl's personal bubble and all. My gaze switched back over to Isabella, right in time to see a bright red blush staining from the apples of her cheeks, down the sides of her neck and into the neckline of the sweatshirt. I tilted my head to the side when her slightly panicked heart went from an uneasy thud to a quick and rampant flutter, and my lips pulled up into a crooked smirk, a small laugh rumbling from my chest when the sounds of her breathing picked up. Leaning forward, my head tilted, barely allowing my lips to rub over the soft skin of Isabella's jawline, as I murmured "Are you always this responsive?". Smirking, I turned around and sauntered to the tree line, grinning cheekily at the fact that there's an absolutely pissed off baby alpha and the almost-drooling imprint left behind.

Oh poor Jake, your new toy's all mine, and I don't allow what's mine to break.

Review please! I'll try to keep all suggestions in mind while I write :]