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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 2 months

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Wildest dreams, pt. 32 (Paul Lahote)

Summary: Rebuilding their relationship is slow, but worth it. They struggle to find their footing as life goes on, sharing what's on their mind and weighing on their hearts.

Warnings: angst, fluff, sexual innuendos, swearing, GRAPHIC depictions of death and blood

Wildest Dreams Masterlist

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It’s been a few days since Paul promised he’d ask Y/N’s permission to host a birthday dinner. Daisy has texted him at least a dozen times by now, demanding details he cannot provide. Some would say he’s afraid to ask, but that’s not the core issue here. The key to this puzzling silence on his behalf lies in the way Y/N is sitting on his lap, running her soft hands over his as she lathers them in sweet-scented hand cream. A soft smile lingers upon her supple lips and her eyes shyly shift to his curious ones so often he’s barely able to keep his composure. All he wants is to taste her again, to feel her responding to his advances the way she once did – hungrily, unapologetically, wildly, and often. There were days he was concerned about how often she initiated sex…he missed those days. And now when they’re rebuilding intimacy brick by fragile brick, Paul isn’t all too happy about it being put at risk because of Daisy and her inability to give others space.

“You’re staring,” she raises her left eyebrow.

“How can I not?”

Biting his bottom lip, Paul suppresses a smile. Seeing it as a challenge, Y/N cups his cheeks. Brushing the tip of her nose against his, she grins as he releases his tortured bottom lip a shade darker, lightly swollen, and kissable…so incredibly inviting.

“Now who’s staring?” Paul teases as his hands grip her hips.

“How can I not?” She mimics. “You’re incredibly beautiful and you’re mine.”

Unable to resist, Paul’s lips spread in a smile she’d been craving. She can see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him. When she lost her sparkle and stopped smiling, his faded as well. It’s truly rewarding to make an effort to get better when it reflects so perfectly in Paul.

“I am.”

“Mine?”

“Incredibly beautiful,” he exclaims, evoking a laugh from her he hasn’t heard in a long time. It’s bright and playful and she’s throwing her head back and he can’t help but laugh with her. Y/N’s laugh is Paul’s serenity and a sign she feels safe with him. Oftentimes Paul caught himself wondering if Y/N trusts he can keep her safe as he once promised her. There’s not a single part of him that trusted himself to be able to do as much, but it would kill him if she doubted him too.

Resting her forehead on his, Y/N lets out a soft exhale, her hands sliding lower until her fingertips rest on his jawline.

“Yours,” he murmurs. “Always have been, always will be.”

“Thank you,” Y/N’s voice is weak, as if her soul trembles for reassurance Paul was certain he’s diligently given time and time again. But if she needs to hear it more often, he’ll give it to her.

“Don’t thank me. Why are you thanking me?”

“For not regretting having me as an imprint.”

“I could never regret you,” Paul takes her face in his hands. Can’t she see she’s his entire world? “Look at me,” Paul orders but she squeezes her eyes shut. “Hey, hey,” he says firmly. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, she does as told. Her lips part slightly in anticipation.

“Every day I get to spend with you is another day I cherish life, love, and destiny. I didn’t believe in that shit!” Chuckling, Paul shakes his head. “Don’t you see? You made me believe in love and destiny and actually speak that into existence! There’s no one else on this planet that I would let hear me being this sappy.”

“It is a little sappy,” she jokes and he chuckles heartily.

“Well, you’re gonna pay for that.”

Raising her eyebrows, she smirks. “And how exactly are you going to make me?”

Pursing his lips, Paul pulls up his legs, his knees coming up right from behind her back enough to push her firmly into his chest.

“Crushing me? That’s your perfect plan?”

Giving her thighs a squeeze, he nods. “In a way.”

Before she had a moment to think, Y/N yelps as she lands on the soft mattress, Paul on top of her. His body weight presses her into the bed, genuinely crushing her to death. So why does it feel so good? Her nightgown moved aside, revealing a part of her right breast and Paul’s licking his lips as he cracked a smile unable to keep his eyes from wandering lower to her chest. He wants nothing more than to possess Y/N again, to feel her writhe beneath him as she comes undone. Lost in his soul’s desire, his mouth comes down hard on hers, claiming them, nearly bruising them. Restraint crumbles beneath the weight of pent-up longing, and his lips mold to hers with an urgency that borders on primal. The kiss, though almost brutal in its intensity, is an act of reclamation, a fervent assertion of belonging.

He loses himself in the warmth of her breath, in the softness of her lips yielding beneath the onslaught of his need. The world outside this stolen embrace ceases to exist. His hands find refuge in the tousled strands of her hair, fingers tangling and releasing in a rhythm dictated by their synchronized heartbeats.

An inkling of common sense washes over him, pushing himself off her instantly. Laying on his back, beside Y/N, Paul covers his face. He allowed himself to lose control long enough to forget about her boundaries, about her wishes. It was a game that turned into so much more far too quickly and he lost himself long enough to act like a predator catching up with the prey.

“I’m sorry,” he swallows thickly, unable to look at her as a cold wave of regret washes up at the shores of his conscience. What started as a game, a dance on the precipice of shared longing he’s allowed to spiral into something he never intended. In this vulnerable moment, Paul grapples not only with the awful breach of invisible boundaries he feels were drawn since their almost wedding, but with the fear of disappointing her, of shattering the trust carefully woven between them.

Y/N doesn’t respond, but the weight on the mattress shifts and then it’s on top of him. Looking at her through his fingers, Paul can’t believe the sight. She’s entirely bare before him, her breasts on display, and her hands are pulling down his boxers faster than he can comprehend.

“What are you doing?” Paul’s voice is laced with curiosity and caution.

“What you’re scared of doing,” she remarks. Her movements are deliberate, determined to bridge the emotional chasm she feels separated them as they finally made some progress.

Grabbing her hands tightly, he sits up with a frown etched upon his forehead. “Stop that and talk to me.” His words sound like a tender echo in the room.

Chuckling dryly, she shakes her head. She meets his gaze unclouded by shame or disappointment. Instead, it holds a quiet reassurance. “That’s the point, Paul. I don’t want to talk, or think, I just want you.” His face is set in a firm, serious expression as she rolls her eyes at him. “I want you inside of me;” she clarifies, as her hands reach for his, intertwining in a gentle grasp.

“If that’s what you want,” he nods.

“Do you?”

“More than you could ever know.”

She pulls him to her, seeking his mouth. He laughs at her grasping hands, teasing her, but there’s no ridicule in his chocolate eyes. There’s only the wish to prolong their pleasure. A sparkle comes alive in her eyes, and Paul knows she will have the last laugh. Her hands move downward. When she finds what she wants, there is no more laughter in his eyes. They are black with passion as he pushes her down beside him.

It isn’t long before their pleasure reaches its high and they’re both released from their sweet torment. Y/N feels drained, her bones weak as Paul moves partially aside, though his leg is still across her calf, his arm across her breasts.

“That was -” Paul begins.

“Long overdue,” she exclaims. “I don’t think we’ve ever done it this quickly!”

“As long as we both finish,” he notes happily.

“How are you so sure I did?”

Paul smirks. “Oh, I know.”

Brushing his hair back, she sighs. “I love you.”

“Even with the beard?”

Giggling, she nods. “Even with the beard!”

“Good, good. Guess I’m going to throw away the shaving cream I bought this morning.”

Pecking his shoulder, Y/N places a hand over Paul’s chest. “Definitely. You’re not shaving until we see how well that beard works for me in other places when we take things more slowly next time.”

His chest quakes under her fingertips as his laughter fills the room. The birthday dinner can certainly wait until morning because there’s nothing in this world worth endangering the sweetness of this moment.

The problem is, the sweetness of that moment repeated often throughout the morning and then it lasted the entire day. Like catching up on lost time, Y/N and Paul spent the next day wrapped up in each other until they physically couldn’t move anymore.

“I’m pretty sure they’ll send out a search party for us,” Y/N snickers as Paul swipes away all the unread messages on his screen.

“If it was urgent, someone would be at the door by now.” Burying his head in her neck, Paul inhales her deeply only to realize she almost entirely smells like him. Playfully biting at her soft skin right above the collarbone, he licks the teeth marks left behind.

“I’m not even gonna say anything,” she snorts before checking her phone as well. “Well, they’re definitely relentless.”

“Mhmm,” Paul murmurs between feather-light kisses he’s leaving across her chest.

“What dinner are they talking about in the group chat?”

Pausing, Paul looks at her through his lashes. “Fuck. I forgot.”

“Well, now that you remember, fill me in.”

“They want a dinner party for your birthday. I promised them I’d ask you, but then –“

“I screwed your brains out?”

“Something like that,” he grins, “wait, that’s exactly what you did.”

Running her fingers through his hair, she sighs contently. “I think I’d be up for a dinner. Nothing glamorous, no gifts necessary. Just a dinner with friends.”

“I don’t think gifts are optional.”

Chewing on her bottom lip, she inhales deeply. “Fine. Fine. I can handle some gifts. Just promise me you’ll get me out of there if my social battery runs out.”

Pressing his lips in a thin line, Paul furrows his eyebrows.

“We’re hosting it, aren’t we?” She grimaces with realization.

“I think so.”

Staring at the ceiling, her fingers coil around the ends of Paul’s dark hair. “Tell them it’s a go, but you definitely owe me five more orgasms to be okay with hosting.”

Chuckling, he pecks her chin. “It will be my pleasure.”

When the day came, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by noon. She sent Paul to the store at least five times, constantly finding something new she could make for the pack on her phone to the point he confiscated it.

“Maybe I can make the mac n’cheese?” Paul suggests.

Pausing, with her hand on her hip, Y/N snorts. “Sure. We have time for the fire department to show up for dinner too. Might have to make a little extra. Would be rude not to invite them for dinner when they’re already going to be here.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Paul says nothing as he gives her a pointed look. She looks surprisingly put together considering she spent the day cooking. Most times he’d let the comment made go, but this time he was waiting for an apology, one he hoped she’d realize he’s owed.

Tossing the oven mitts on the table, she sighs. “Pasta isn’t your dish, babe. I love you and your cooking, so if you wanna help, pasta is not on the menu. Butttt a potato salad is and I’d really appreciate it if you made it the same way you did last month because I craved it for a week.”

Huffing, he nods. They had ONE incident with pasta and it’s only because he forgot to put the water in the pot before he lost control and shifted. The look on her face when she realized he was a wolf while smoke was bellowing from the kitchen window had him staying away from the kitchen for months on end.

“Sure,” he releases a tired sigh. Instead of turning it into an argument, Paul decided to just keep quiet. This dinner clearly triggered her in a somewhat different way; where he expected depression and doing it all himself with Emily’s tips and tricks, he received an overly anxious perfectionist who was driving him insane. But it’s her birthday…the first one since she lost her dad. It doesn’t matter how old you are when you lose a parent, especially when it’s the last parent you had, there will be a sadness that clings to your heart for a long time after. He remembers losing his mom, and later his dad, and he wasn’t prepared for either death. To this day, Paul wishes he had more time to spend with them, to ask them why.

Why didn’t his mother tell him she was dying of cancer when she decided to send Paul to live with his father? He could have been there with her in the last months of her life, to have used the time she had left better. That’s a luxury they stole from him…the luxury he didn’t have with his dad at all. The only comfort he has is how quick his father’s death was compared to his mother's. Sudden cardiac death takes moments, not excruciatingly painful months as metastatic breast cancer does.

So, yes. Paul has more understanding than Y/N thinks. The first birthday isn’t easy, especially for someone who has a close relationship with their parent. She hasn’t taken a proper breath the whole day, wasting away precious moments they could have spent together.

When he woke up, Paul found their bed empty. He cannot even try to guess how long she’s been up cooking and cleaning, all of the things he planned to do. He wanted to cook for her, for them all. Paul wanted to make this day as easy as possible for her, but he should have known better. Y/N does everything well, but relaxing is not her strongest suit.

“Jacob said he’s bringing a cake,” Y/N breaks the silence. “Apparently, Alice had seen it in her vision and bought it.”

“That’s nice of her.”

“Yeah,” she turns to face him. “Is it weird we didn’t invite the Cullens? I kind of feel bad for excluding them.”

Licking his lips, Paul shakes his head. “We’re all perfectly happy to be on friendly terms, but I wouldn’t put a family of vampires in the same room with shapeshifters who’re struggling with old urges right now. You did well.”

“Is it really that bad?” Y/N places the spoon on the counter, approaching Paul with genuine worry reflecting in her eyes. “Are you struggling?”

“Every day,” he admits with a tightlipped smile.

“You never told me,” she realizes. “I really need to do better.”

“It’s fine.”

“I wish it was,” she frowns. “What else do you struggle with?”

Glancing at her, he shrugs meekly. “I don’t think we should be having this conversation now.”

“Why?” Swallowing thickly, Y/N leans on her forearms. When Paul remains silent, she bows her head low. “I’m just gonna ask then. Are you still having those nightmares?”

Noticing his hand stop stirring, Y/N’s eyes widen. Paul’s jaw clenches and her lips part. They’re not out of the woods yet. She’s still marked for death. If anything, her father delayed her death for a little while. There’s not a single part of her that doubts she was the intended victim, but her father managed to protect her the only way he could – by sacrificing his own life.

Flashes of his ripped-open throat have her grabbing onto her stomach as nausea forces bile up her throat. Unable to run to the bathroom, it spills past her mouth into the sink and before she has a chance to take her next breath, Paul’s warm hand is splayed between her shoulder blades and the other is holding her hair back.

“Ugh,” she groans. “Throwing up in the sink is so fucked up,” she tries to laugh only to gag as she senses the smell of stomach acid. Paul lets the water run, running a wet hand across her face and neck. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I throw up thinking about it too.”

Looking up at him, she leans into his chest. “You could have said something.”

“Your dad was killed. It’s not a burden I was looking to share when you were already struggling.”

Inhaling sharply, she wraps her arms around him. “I’m strong enough,” she states. “I promise you can stop treating me like I’ll break if we argue or you have something on your mind. I don’t care how bad it is, I’m here for you.”

“Talking about your death isn’t something I like to do,” Paul pulls back lightly, his scowl playing with her heartstrings. He’s been so strong, but when will he let down his armor again? It can’t be good for him to bottle all this up.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

“We’re having people over in two hours,” Paul reminds her.

“And we have made like five dishes already. We can order pizza if they eat everything prepared.”

Paul smiles seeing her relax for the first time that day. This is the Y/N he’s been missing. “The beach?”

“Of course!”

As the sun begins its descent beyond the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, they walk along the shoreline, entwined hands swaying gently like the rhythm of the waves as the ocean breeze plays with their hair. Little is said about the darkness they need to share, deciding to table it for another day. This is meant to be a moment for just the two of them – the couple who fell in love against all odds and chose to love each other every day continuously.

“It’s weird how this was meant to be the place we say our vows in,” she muses.

Pulling her closer, Paul closes his eyes. “Would have been beautiful,” the ache of unrealized dreams carries in his voice.

“I was so ready to call you my husband,” she confesses with a teasing smirk, a glimmer of playful light in her eyes.

Biting his lower lip, his eyes reopen, finding solace in the depth of hers. “I was already calling you my wife that day. It felt right.”

Staring at each other as the sun goes down, they smile longingly as if each glance is a rediscovery of love after the tragedy that stained their happiness.

“Let’s get married,” Y/N declares.

“I’d love to,” Paul places his hands on her hips, lightly pulling her in front of him.

“No, I mean would you like to marry me tonight?”

Caught off guard, Paul coughs as he nearly chokes on his saliva. He grabs her shoulders for support before cupping her cheeks, bending his neck to meet her eyes with furrowed brows. “Are you fucking with me?”

“I’m serious! We can have Sam marry us and then just file the paperwork tomorrow. I mean we have the marriage license; it’s not rocket science.”

Paul, running his tongue across his lips, takes a few bewildered steps to the left. Shaking his head in disbelief, he glances at her repeatedly, searching for any sign of it being a joke. But this isn’t a joke, this is real.

“Okay,” he finally utters, the shock evident in his nod.

“Okay?” Sparked by Paul’s unexpected agreement, a giggle bubbles forth from her, carrying genuine happiness. It’s infectious, dancing through the air, infusing the moment with warmth Paul is certain will linger in his memories.

“Yeah! Let’s get married tonight!”

A/N: Unfortunately Tumblr had been making me suffer regarding the tagging, so I hope these tags work, if not I TRIED. I am also aware it has been a while since I updated, so hope this was good enough of an apology.

@notperfect-justme @sucker4seresin @ahoyyharrington @b-tchymoon @squiddaloo @abbiesxox @kellyashcroft @the-chaotic-cow @xxxjaexxx @captainrogers-19 @bexloxl @adaydreamaway08 @sunsetevergreen @volturiwolf @twihard08 @galacticstxrdust @sorrow-and-bliss @missxmarvelous @locokoca @unstablekay @makhaia @venusdelaroix @avadakadabra93 @tearsforhan @a-marie-a @lendeluxe @seagulls-corner @konigslilslut @rottenstyx @itsmytimetoodream @dreamerwasfound @convolutings @thingfromlove @jennyamanda8 @havecourage-darling @luvr-exe @alittlejudgemental @turningtoclown @emptydoorsandpaintedwindows @marvelmenarebeautiful @bringmethe-world @alitaar @sugasthreedollarkookie @chloe-skywalker @heyheyheyggg @feral-ratatattat-king @fandomrulesall-blog @dcgoddess @lilac-crowns-blog @small-town-wayward-daughter @queenotaku27 @yourqueentp @boreddemigodd @chaosgoblinreblogsthings @felinegrate @lunajay33 @gtfoana @hpboysslut2707 @tpwk-harrystyles @amberpanda99 @let-love-bleeds-red @mo-s-blog @nj01 @myheadsinanotherworld @problematicpastry @witchybabel @llovergirlll @ireadthensuetheauthors @queerrobin @wordacadabra

#paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight fandom #wildest dreams fic #paul lahote series #twilight series #paul lahote x y/n #paul lahote x imprint

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