hothead -paul lahote-

nine

I stare at my uncle, confusion taking over my features. "I'm a what?" "Lycan. Lycanthrope, whatever word you know. Your father is one." I take a breath, trying to wrap my head around it. "Sam-" "Now, I know it's a lot to take in, but it's why this happened." He nods, looking at me. "What do you mean?" "You've heard of them, yes?" I nod. "They're like us. They're shifters. But they're not like us, if that makes any sense." "How are they different?" I swallow thickly. "They're... violent. They rely more on prey drive than protection. You being a Quileute shifter is what helped you not hurt me or Quil. Your imprint was threatened and it was a full moon." "And- And so it was me." I push myself away from the table, pacing the floor. "No. Nicole-" 

"It's why I'm violent and short tempered and always act out of anger." My voice shakes as I realize it's who I am. Why I am how I am. My breathing speeds up as it feels as if I'm not getting enough oxygen, like there's a Buick sitting on my chest. Someone grabs my face, lifting my head so I look at them. "Nicole, sweetheart, look at me. Calm down." Paul whispers, carefully pulling me toward him. My eyes lock with his and it slowly feels like the Buick is pulling away, no longer parked directly on my ribcage. "Come sit. We'll explain more." "Explain what? I- I am not okay with- with whatever I've done no matter the reason. There's no excuse for it. I could've-" He stops me. "Could've doesn't matter right now. What matters is didn't." He assures me softly.

"No. No! Could've does matter! You guys are excusing everything I do!" I snarl at them, pushing away and feeling anger building in my chest for seemingly no apparent reason. Paul grabs my arm, fingers wrapping tightly around my bicep as he stares at me coldly. "Enough. You need to sit down and shut up. Am I understood? Hm?" He hisses, eyes narrowing harshly. I nod quickly, letting him pull me to the table and then into his lap. Never in my life did I think Paul would speak to me that way but I knew he was only doing it to shock me out of my anger and get me to calm down. It worked. "Now, Nicole, you need understand that we can work on this. This happened for a multitude of reasons. None of which are your fault." Sam explains calmly.

I pause, sighing softly as Paul's thumb gently rubs the side of my neck while his palm sits against the back of it and his fingers curl around the other side. "What do I do, Sam?" I ask after a very long moment. "You work with us. We'll keep a calendar or schedule or something of the sort that tells us when there's a full moon. No matter what you need to do the day before and the day after, you don't. Paul stays with you. You go nowhere. You talk to no one except your imprint. Understood?" Sam explains, authority in his voice despite knowing it wouldn't affect me in the way it does the boys. I nod slowly, turning slowly to look at Paul. "And you're sure you're okay with... dealing with me while I'm like that? I... I don't want to hurt you, Paul." I whisper.

Paul nods, holding my hips tightly, thumbs rubbing gently. "Of course, sweetheart. Now, let's get you home so you can relax, yeah?" He stands us up, telling Sam and Emily that he'd keep an eye on me for the next few days until I felt a little better. When we get to Paul's, he grabs my waist, pulling me inside and planting his lips on mine, burying his hand in my hair, repeatedly telling me how much he missed me. I pull back slightly, hands on his chest. "I'm sorry, Paul. I shouldn't have-" He cuts me off, the hand on the back of my head pulling in tightly to him again, smashing his lips onto mine. My eyes widen in surprise at the sudden forceful kiss but I almost immediately melt into it. Melt into him. My hands move up, grabbing the sides of his face gently.

His free hand leaves my wrist, grabbing the back of my thigh and lifting me, carrying me to the bedroom. "God, you ever do that shit to me again-" He cuts himself off, a growl leaving his throat and rumbling through his chest as he shoves me into the mattress, crawling over me and burying his face in my neck. His hands move from my waist, over my ass and grab the backs of my thighs, pushing them apart before wrapping my legs around him. "You ever leave me again and, I swear to God, you won't be walking for a week, sweetheart." He snarls as his teeth sink into my skin, marking the tanned flesh as his lower body grinds roughly into mine. A moan passes my lips as my arms wrap around his neck, my hands tugging his head up by his hair. 

I plant my lips on his almost desperately as his hands move to my hips once more, fingers quickly finding the zipper of my shorts but a harsh growl leaves his lips when he fumbles with it a few times. He grabs the fabric in his fists, tearing it aggressively away from my body, his mouth swallowing the yelp that leaves my throat. I gasp slightly as I pull back a tiny bit, looking up at him, chest heaving. "You ripped my-" I'm cut off once more when he kisses me roughly again, hands tearing my panties off as well. "Shhh, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good." His fingers immediately dive between my thighs, collecting the slick arousal then dragging slowly up my slit. My head drops back and my lips part to let a moan pass, his name falling off my tongue.

I whine and squirm when he doesn't actually touch me, just teases. His other hand presses the middle of my lower stomach, keeping me firmly in place. "I know. I know. You're just so desperate, huh, sweetheart?" He whispers, trailing kisses down my neck. I could hear his smirk in his words. "Tell me why I should touch you. Tell me why you think you deserve to be touched after you left me like that, Nicole. Three days. Three days, Nicole. And you think you deserve to be touched?" The words he hisses are sharp and angry yet also whispered in the sweetest tone at the same time. The next thing he says has me melting entirely beneath him. "The only way I'm touching you is if I'm ruining you. Wrecking your pretty little mind. Leaving you cock-drunk and fucked out."