A/N: enjoy. Let me know if you'd like another part to this. That cheeky grin above, that’s what I imagine he’d tease you with
Part 2 →
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You wake alone in a cold bed, the crisp morning air turning your breath into steamy tendrils that cascade across the surface of the pillow. Slowly you force your eyes open as an outstretched arm traces the space next to you seeking a sign of his presence. The sheets are stone cold, any trace of him long gone.
Despite the cold you move quickly as you drag yourself from the bed, almost instantly your nipples harden as they’re exposed. Goosebumps grace your thighs as you grab the dressing gown that had been flung last night and wrap it tightly around your naked form.
Although the morning light had breached the curtains and bathed the room in glorious light, the hallway beyond the bedroom was still in pitch blackness. Your eyes snap to the open doorway as the creak of floorboards resonates from the dark. The beat of your heart thrums in your ears and your voice sticks in your throat. Slowly you take a step backward. A familiar shape enters the doorway causing your heart to beat even faster, but not from fear.
“You scared me” you whisper as he crosses the room and pulls you into his embrace, arms wrapping around your waist as he holds you flush to him. His face finds its way to the crook of your neck, he inhales deeply, savouring the way you smell. His lips plant a trail of kisses to your jawline, before finding yours that are still plump from last night. Gently his hands caress your sides and come to rest on your hips. He pays attention to the soft delicate moans that escape your mouth as he moves one under the hem of the dressing gown and up your thigh. Suddenly both hands find their way beneath the material and settle on your arse as he lifts you effortlessly and carries you back to the bed, your legs wrapped around his waist. He places you down gently and comes to a kneel between your legs, hands having a firm grip on your knees as he sucks in a deep breath. You were a gorgeous sight to behold, still a little sleepy and all dishevelled from the previous night. The dressing gown had ridden up exposing the majority of yourself to him. A pink flush graces your cheeks as your eyes roam his body. Despite the chilly temperatures he’s in shorts only, they hug his hips perfectly, revealing chiselled abs and a deep cutting v line. You notice a slight sheen of sweat glistening over his chest, or was it rain? You know he’d been out for an early morning run along the territory lines.
All thoughts are abandoned as he glides his hands down your thighs, your nipples once again hardening beneath the gown. Tenderly he places kisses down your thigh as his hands wrap around the back with his palms splayed flat on your hips to stop you squirming away. Shakily you let out a breath in anticipation, not knowing how long you’d last after last night. A whine escapes your lips as you become increasingly frustrated at Paul’s slow pace, you feel him smile against your thigh before his mouth lightly makes contact at the apex, his day-old stubble scratching sensually over your most sensitive area. Slowly he runs his tongue along your slit, humming in delight at how you taste. You let out a small chuckle at his reaction which he cuts short by making you gasp from his tongue coming into contact with your clit. He starts off slowly, tracing circles over and over while picking up the tempo. Your head rolls to the side as your eyes close, the moans escaping you are music to his ears. Just as you think you’re going to climax Paul switches up the direction he works in, repeating this every time you're close. He enjoys teasing you and watching as you unravel.
“Paul, please” you whisper through moans, preying he might finally be done tormenting you. Your thighs tighten around his head as he continues his mission, going in clockwise circles. The built up pressure becomes too much, your hands shooting down to squeeze his at your hips. As soon as you’ve done that, one of his untangles from yours. You feel his fingers at your entrance and then push inside you slowly. Only one to start but a second soon follows, pumping in and out of you. He starts curling his fingers, which along with his tongue, sends you into one hell of an orgasm. He eyes you greedily from his position between your legs, watching as your face contorts in ecstasy. Reaching up, he skillfully unties the knot of the dressing gown and exposes the body he loves. Planting soft kisses, he works his way up your tummy leaving a trail of your juices behind and stops when reaching your breasts to pay them some attention. You let out a little customary giggle as you come down from your high, your hands weaving into his hair as he takes a nipple between his teeth.
“Ow!” you suck in a sharp breath, you enjoy a little roughness but it always takes you by surprise. A wicked grin spreads over his irresistible lips as he looms above you, you bring him closer for a kiss as your hands travel down his chest, feeling his perfectly sculpted muscles. A groan escapes Paul as he grabs your wrists to stop your hands going further down. You whine in disapproval. You can feel his rock hard erection against your leg and you want it. The thought of pleasing him turns you on again and builds tension in your core.
“God you’ll be the death of me,” he says through gritted teeth. You know he’s fighting the urge to fuck you so you flutter your eye lashes.
“Don’t you want to feel how warm and wet I am for -” his hand clamps down on your mouth as he involuntarily lets out a shuddery breath. His weight shifts over you, as he comes even closer, pushing you further into the mattress. One hand still restrains yours as the other keeps you quiet - one more dirty comment from you would dissolve his restraint. His mouth hungrily starts attacking your neck, sucking on the same spot until a red bruise marks the skin. He admires the mark for a few seconds before leaning into your ear.
“We have a brunch date, remember?” he whispers seductively. Your eyes roll back in annoyance at the brunch date, wanting to stay here and finish what he started. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll give you what you want later.”
Good god this man knows exactly how to pull your strings, but fortunately for you, it works both ways. After the events of this morning, you have no intention of being a good girl. After all, good girls don't get what they want.
Warnings: Mentions of drugs, fluff, Arguments/violence, mentions of violence,
A/N: I enjoyed writing this, seems I enjoy being destructive. Comment below if you wanna be tagged for this or any other works. Some of you who asked to be tagged for some reason aren’t showing up as accounts anymore, if you’ve changed name let me know.
Thanks for the continued support x
← Chapter 7 ▪️ Chapter 9→
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Mortified. That’s what you felt while still standing between his legs in his embrace, listening to the storm rage outside while all of a sudden there was a deep rumble that came from inside you. You winced against his chest hoping he hadn’t heard or that perhaps he would pass it off as thunder. Then it happened again, but this time it was fiercer and you’re pretty sure your entire stomach vibrated with the sheer force. If he hasn’t heard, he’ll have felt the tremor.
God. That’s so unattractive.
You feel Paul stroke hair away from your face and tuck it behind your ear. Despite appearances you’ve come to find him a gentle being, or maybe that’s because these gentiles involve you. You look at him, both studying each other as the desire to kiss him again drives you crazy. Just as you decided to make a move a third rumble sounds which brings a playful smile to his mouth.
“You’re hungry…” he rests his forehead against yours, sounding deflated.
“No, that wasn’t-” your stomach interrupts. You bite your lip to stop from laughing “okay, maybe a tiny bit” you admit, realising you hadn’t eaten all day. “Not that I’m asking, no expecting, you to feed… well I’m not starving… I can wait, it’s my fault for not-” you’re interrupted once more as he tenderly places a kiss on your lips before brushing his nose against yours.
“You’re cute” he kisses you again as his hands squeeze your waist. You lean into him, deepening the kiss. “As much as I’m enjoying this” he kisses you again “feeding you…” his lips travel along your jaw and start to descend your neck “ …my top priority…” he takes a playful nip at the love bite in the crook of your neck, making you jump at the change in contact.
“Ouchie” you jump away from him, playfully pushing his arms away.
“That’s one way to get you moving” he teases, arms returning to the furniture he’s leaning on. The muscles flex under the skin, a move you feel is utterly deliberate and meant to have you melting. You stick your tongue out as you back away, knees knocking against the bed frame forcing you to sit. You bring one leg up onto the mattress, placing the foot against the opposite thigh. Your fingers start playing with the hem of the sweater you wore as your eyes bore into him, with such intensity he could swear you were his mortal enemy, harbouring dark feelings towards him.
“What?” Your hands fly to the side, smacking the bed sheets. The corner of your mouth upturns ever so slightly despite your hardest to keep a straight face.
“I can never tell with you…” he shakes his head and walks towards you, dropping to his knees with graceful surety. Warmth spreads through your legs as his hands find a home on your thighs. He’s face to face, staring at point blank range into your eyes “...I should always be able to, but it comes and goes…” You strain to hear his whispering as he thinks aloud.
“You’re not a superhuman” you joke, your voice bringing him out from his mindful trance.
“Huh?” he questions, a stunned look across his face, as if someone had just slapped him.
“I said you’re not a superhuman!” you reiterate, noticing the twitch in the corner of his mouth as if trying to suppress a smile, ignoring it you move on “Just do what every other human does, ask questions. You know, like how are you? What’s going on…” you start listing off examples as he moves in closer again. You’re suddenly aware that he’s between your legs and your mouth feels drier than a desert. “... or um, how are you feeling?” you swallow as you lose concentration, your eyes fixated on his lips.
“And how are you?” he questions, cockiness to his tone. The grip on your thighs tightens slightly.
“How am I what?” You swallow, trying your hardest to moisten your mouth.
“Feeling.” He suggests, eyes roaming your face for an answer despite it being obvious from the pink blush of your cheeks and the change in breathing, which brings him joy to no end.
“Oh, um…” you drag your eyes away from his lips to see him studying you. The colour of your cheeks deepens as you're caught red handed, your desire evident. “I think you know…” you trail off while leaning forward into him.
“Mhmm, you’re feeling hungry.” He teases as you roll your eyes in response. Momentarily he sucks his teeth while thinking of a solution. You’d guessed there would be no food here, judging by the lack of facilities. “Okay.” He stands in one swift motion, and heads into the gloom of the main room. You follow, propping yourself against the doorframe. The air feels colder in here, your breath crossing in front of you in smokey tendrils.
“What are you doing?” you ask, bemused, as you watch him move around like a headless chicken. Surprised, you watch him produce an apple from the pocket of a discarded jacket. He pads over to you, leaving footprints in the dust covered floor, and presents the fruit to you with a wave of his hand.
“Surprised I had anything?” he chuckles, holding it up to your face.
“No, more surprised that you own a jacket since I’ve ever seen you wear a top.” You take the apple from him, a cheeky smile on your face. Nevertheless, you don’t forget your manners and give him a grateful thank you. He leans down and plants a kiss on your forehead, a gesture that's becoming increasingly welcomed by yourself, before heading towards the front door. “Where are you going?”
“Source more food” he yells over the noise of the storm.
“You can’t go out in that!” He turns to face you, hand opening the door, and gives you a cheeky wink before delving head first into the storm. Finding it hard to believe he would venture out in this weather, you gingerly make your way to the door, stepping in patches that had less dust to avoid dirtying your feet as much as possible. You greatly underestimated the force of the storm as you opened the door to peek. It flies backwards slamming into the wall, as the wind whips your wet hair around causing it to slap against your face.
“Paul?” you yell, your hand flying up to shield your eyes from the rain which pounds down, driven in by the ferocity of the storm. You jump backwards as something wraps around your leg. “What the hell!” you shriek, confusion sweeping over you. A pair of very wet shorts clings to you after having been blown in off the porch. If you weren’t mistaken, they were the shorts Paul had been wearing, but they can’t be. Why on earth would he take them off? Before getting absolutely drenched you fight the storm to close the front door and then battle the wet material of the shorts as you pull them from you. Having caught a chill from the open door you make your way back to the bedroom and decide to get under the covers after deeming them clean enough. You sit crossed legged against the headboard, the duvet pulled up under your arms as you munch on the apple utterly perplexed by the events of the day and feeling exhausted. You don’t remember falling asleep but you must have as a loud knock wakes you.
Footsteps sound in the other room as someone goes to answer the door, a second loud knock resonating through the building. You strain to hear voices, still half asleep and content to stay that way. Despite the worst of the storm passing, it was still nigh on impossible to hear much over the sound of the wind against the old house. You settle back into the comfort of the bed and pull your legs towards your chest for warmth. You’re aware of someone entering the room and are comforted by their presence. The bed dips beside you as they sit down. Gently a hand pushes hair behind your ear and you feel hot breath hit your cheek.
“Are you still hungry?” Paul’s familiar deep voice whispers, tickling your ear as he does so. With your eyes still closed you nod against the pillow, the faint pain of hunger eating away at your stomach but the desire for five more minutes of sleep fighting all else. “Embry brought the truck over, the rain is still coming down quite heavy.”
“Mhmm” you open your eyes at the mention of Embry and scan the room. To your relief he’s not in the room with you both. “I fell asleep” you inform Paul, still in a daze.
“So you did” he chuckles and you sit up and face him. “Ready?” he smiles, taking in your appearance. He can’t deny the sight of you in his bed drives him crazy especially when you look all cute and sleepy, but the need to look after you overcomes any desires that build up.
“Not really.” You look down at your attire and shiver at the sight of bare legs. Your clothes will still be soaked through so not much can be done. Paul wraps an arm around your waist and one under your legs before shifting your weight to sit on his lap. Softly he kisses your cheek.
“You look gorgeous, just saying.” he plants another kiss, this time on your lips “I’ve wanted to do that for the past hour” he admits before stealing another kiss. Satisfied he stands up still carrying you and heads for the door.
“I do have the use of my legs you know.” you point out but think better of protesting as you remember the dirty floor.
“What you don’t have is a pair of dry shoes though.” Somehow he manages to juggle carrying you and the opening and closing of the front door simultaneously. Yes he physically looked strong but you’re starting to realise that his looks were deceiving and don’t show the half of it.
The rain had stopped but the wind was stronger than ever. You wonder how this ramshackle house is still standing. You watch it as Paul carries you away, sadness filling you as you cling to him. Questions circle your brain. What is this building? Does he live here? But it's empty, I wouldn’t even call this the bare necessities… Secretly you hope that it’s some renovation flip project and that he has a warm cosy place to live, perhaps with family; a mother who likes to cook and always has food on the table, the father welcoming and making dad jokes all the time, but something about the scenario you put together doesn’t feel right for Paul. Instinctively you hold onto him tighter and you feel his grip on you tighten in response. Turning your head you spot the truck, it's battered but looks like it’ll do the job for offroading as there appears to be no tarmac in sight. A glance at the ground would show a makeshift driveway, put together with mud and gravel, but anyone would be forgiven for missing this as the weeds and long grass have completely enveloped it.
“I thought you said Embry was here?” you ask, confused as he’s nowhere to be seen as Paul opens the passengers side door. Your eyes briefly scan the surroundings but are distracted as Paul starts to strap you in, his hands brushing your bare skin. Goosebumps follow in the wake of his touch. “I can do that” you offer, taking the seat belt from his hands. His eyes briefly flicker to the goosebumps before letting you finish the job. Neither of you say anything as he shuts the door and goes around to the driver's side, pushing a pile of clothes into the middle of the bench seat so he could have more room. You take in Paul’s appearance, noticing he’s wearing a tank top and a different pair of cargo shorts from earlier. So had the pair that attached to your leg earlier been his after all?
“You okay?” he asks as he starts the engine, noticing your quietness.
“Yeah, just in a sleepy zone” you lie, the cold of the wind had made damn sure to fully wake you. Instead you were contemplating what the significance of the constant discarding of clothes could be. Were they naturalists? Surely Embry hadn’t driven here to then decide he’d prefer walking miles in the cold with no clothes?! That’s if the pile of clothes are his. You spend the drive leaning against the window, feigning tiredness, all the while trying to find a reasonable explanation for the oddities. It doesn’t take long to recognize where you are, especially when Sarah’s car comes into view. You stifle a groan as you once again look down and take in your appearance, knowing what Sarah would think with you turning up in his clothing. You realise that Paul is staring before he reaches over and touches your thigh which brings your attention to him.
“No one will care or even notice.” He calmly tells you as if able to read your mind.
“I can think of at least one person that will have something to say.” You argue, eyes straying from his as you imagine the embarrassment in store.
“Hey” he squeezes your thigh before leaning over and softly kissing your forehead. Instinctively you close your eyes and drink in his scent, savouring every moment as he moves in closer. “We can go, but Em is a good cook…” At the thought of food your stomach rumbles and all other thoughts are expelled from your mind. You let out a noise of longing as you imagine what could right now be on the dinner table, your gaze straying from the man beside you to the warm glow of the cabin in the woods.
“It wouldn’t harm just popping in, saying hello…” you suggest.
“Mhmm” he chuckles “Of course only to say hello” he mocks before exiting the vehicle to come get you from the passenger's side. The door opens and immediately the wind pushes inside, stealing any warmth that had generated in the cab. You shiver then shimmy to the edge of the seat before swinging your legs over. A pleasant shock erupts across your nerves as your knees come into contact with Paul, his warmth unbelievable in this miserable weather. “What do you think? Five or ten minutes? Is that long enough just to say hi?” he continues the joke, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
“Shut up” you insist as you pull on his shirt, catching him off guard with a kiss. He leans in to deepen it, hands planting themselves into the seat either side of you. Your tongue runs along his bottom lip causing him to break from you. You notice how deep his breathing is as he rests his forehead against yours with eyes tightly closed as if in pain. To soothe him you place a kiss on his neck just under his jaw, where you fit perfectly like part of a jigsaw; as if made for him. He sucks in a sharp breath which confuses you. “What’s wrong?” you ask, worry evident in your tone.
Paul finally opens his eyes, a smile once again playing across his features. He expels a sigh before tucking loose hairs behind your ears. “Nothing is wrong my sweet girl.” You blush at his use of the phrase my girl with a sense of elation spreading from your chest. “I’ve never been good at restraining my impulses and you’re testing each and every one of them.” He laughs but you can sense the warning that hides beneath the surface.
“Let's go say our hellos then.” You try to bring the focus back to something lighter but you can’t help from feeling curious at the mention of his so called impulses. In one motion he picks you up, gently removing you from the truck. This time you remove an arm from his neck to close the door as he walks you past to the stairs of the cabin. “Put me down on the porch please” You tell him as you reach the final step. “Let's try to draw the least amount of attention possible”. You explain.
As gently as he picked you up, he places you back on your feet, the wooden porch feeling rough underfoot. You squeeze his hand to give him a silent thanks. He reciprocates the motion before leading you to the door. The sound of twigs snapping makes you dart your gaze towards the treeline. For the briefest second you think you see eyes glowing in the gloom but they’re gone in a blink.
“Did you hear-” you start to ask, realising it was probably normal to hear that out here amongst the wildlife. Just as you move your gaze back to Paul you hear the door of the truck slam shut. Paul’s head briefly glances towards the vehicle affirming the noise in your head, but he doesn't give it more than a few seconds' attention before continuing to lead you into the cabin. It feels like he’s rushing you inside which piques your curiosity. You look through the open doorway but all you see are branches swaying on the trees from the wind. Or as if they’d been disturbed by something. And then the view is cut off as Paul closes the door. The distraction had stopped you worrying until this moment. The sound of chatter and laughter fills your ears, your back facing the crowd around the table. Paul watches as you turn to face them all and senses you relax as the group pays no attention to you both. He places his hand on your back, urging you on.
“Don’t be shy” he leans down to whisper. Familiar eyes catch yours from across the room as Sarah looks up from the table for a second, noticing how you blush as he whispers in your ear. You move in unison, holding his hand while examining the table and kitchen counters as copious amounts of food sit on serving plates. Paul grabs the last clean plate before dragging you towards the food.
“What do you want?” he asks, eyeing you from his high vantage point. You move in closer to his body, wrapping yourself around the arm you’d been holding. Hiding his true motive from the rest of the room, he leans down to kiss your head, getting close enough to whisper so only you can hear. “Someone’s gone all shy.” He wasn’t mocking, his tone was comforting, his enclosed hand rubbing circles on yours with his thumb. Unable to speak, you nod to his statement. You hear him make a hum of acknowledgment as he thinks. “Squeeze my hand if it’s something you don’t want.” He tells you as he puts the plate down to pick up a serving spoon. It really being a two handed job, it takes a while, but he doesn’t mind as keeping you comfortable is equally as important as feeding you. Feeling brave you peek behind you, relaxing in the knowledge that absolutely no one is paying attention. Ever so slightly do you loosen your grip on Paul but never do you entirely let go.
The front door slams open, startling you, as Embry walks in, pulling a T-shirt over his head at the same time. The very shirt that had been in the truck a few minutes ago. Everyone watches as he makes an ordeal of his entrance, struggling to get his head through the hole. You make a mental note that Embry is probably the comic of the group.
“Goddamn is it windy out there!” he yells as his head pokes out the top of the shirt. His foot finds the door and it once again slams as it shuts. His eyes make contact with yours, a million questions swimming in the deep depths of your irises. As you begin to purse your lips in preparation for your questioning his eyes travel to Paul. “Oh hey Paul!” he greets, “Hope you’ve left some food” an underlying tone of sarcasm laces his words before he heads across the room, avoiding your gaze. You notice another pair of eyes looking at you questioningly. Sarah glances between you and Embry and then back to Paul, a million questions also plaguing her. She takes a sip from the mug in her hand and raises an eyebrow as she comes to a conclusion, one which you’ll likely not enjoy.
Pulling you away from her glare, Paul settles against the counter with you between his legs, and finds a way to hold the plate and you in his arms simultaneously. You pick at the food but with him sharing it, you find the plate is empty before long and discarded on the counter next to you, allowing him to properly hold you in his big arms which are folded over your tummy. Nervously you trace patterns across the tanned skin of his forearms as you lose yourself to memories of the last time you’d been in this kitchen with Paul and the kiss you almost shared, which wads you to the kisses that you’ve shared this day, the echo of his lips against yours, hot with desire. A flush creeps up your neck at the thoughts as you lean your head back against his chest, eyes peering up at him. You noticed him engaged in conversation with the group, his chest shaking beneath you as he released a deep laugh. You admire the way that his eyes scrunch up as the laugh encapsulates his entire face, his smile so big and infectious you can’t help but feel happy. This is the moment, the one you’ll think back on as the moment you realised how deeply you feel for this man. Despite not knowing him for long or fully understanding how, you can no longer deny to yourself how you feel. Sensing eyes on you once again you decide an explanation is needed from you. You gently peel Paul’s arms off you and swallow the fear that now eats at you. You can sense how uncomfortable Paul becomes when you start walking across the room, how he fights the urge to follow you. It’s apparent to all as you stop behind Sarah who’s watching him intently, a burning hatred evident in her eyes as they bore into his soul. Her stare doesn’t break when you wrap your arms around her neck and lean down to hug her, nor when you whisper hello, she just responds with a curt acknowledgement.
“I think we need a chat.” You suggest, the words almost not wanting to leave your body. She nods against your hug.
“Good idea” she finally turns her head towards you, her eyes taking longer to meet yours as they linger on the object of her disdain. “Perhaps in the car later.” The thought of later and of driving away from this place is something that fills you with sadness and threatens to drive your heart into an anxious frenzy. Maybe there’s an alternative, one where you don’t have to leave, but your mother…
You withdraw from the hug, standing with your hands on Sarah’s shoulders before retracting those too. You see Paul’s jaw clench as he watches you disappear inside, back behind those walls he’s only just managed to climb. You want to go to him, reach out for the safety of the shore as you’re swept out into the depths, but the current is too strong. Desperately you want to go somewhere quiet, suddenly finding the noise of chatter deafening. Without thinking, your eyes fixate on the latecomer to the gathering, watching as he stuffs a muffin into his mouth, crumbs falling onto the T-shirt you’d only just seen him put on.
“What's the deal with the nakedness Embry?” you ask with an accusing tone. The confidence to ask comes from the need to distract yourself and the desire for answers. Embry almost chokes on his food as the faces of everyone else turn to look at the two of you, confusion and anger present on many of them apart from Paul’s which lights up in amusement.
“The what?” Sarah shoots at you, a puzzled look upon her face. “Why are you seeing him naked, I thought you and Paul-” she starts, earning a glare from you. Whatever she thought she did or did not know, you don’t appreciate the snide comment.
“No, I…We…” you stutter and shake your head “that’s not the point, the point is, why drive all the way to us to walk back naked?” you draw the subject of conversation back to Embry.
“Looks like you need to keep an eye out Paul, your girl’s sure interested in Embry’s nakedness” one of the group teases, making you feel angry at their inability to take anything seriously.
“Hey! I’m not his girl-” your voice gets lost amongst the boy’s growing jests and is only noticed by Sarah.
“Yeah, looks like I need to be careful around you” Embry flashes a grin and winks in your direction earning laughs from everyone. Sarah mutters something incoherent under her breath.
“Jared, Embry, that's enough” Sam’s scalding voice booms above the ruckus. The laughter dies away as he stands and comes over to you. “Looks like you’ll fit in around here,” he announces loudly to the whole room before lowering his pitch for your ears only “Just don’t let them bully you.” He smiles before heading to the door and leaving into the growing dark.
“I wasn’t bullying” Embry whispers to himself while sulking and eating another muffin.
“Lighten up” The one you assumed to be Jared, shoves him playfully.
“You lighten up” Embry retorts, shoving him back.
“Oh, you wanna go?” Jared stands up “Common then, outside.” He almost growls before the whole room erupts into laughter again. They both lean in, hands gripping the forearms of the other. “I’m only joking.” Jared laughs.
“Only because you know I’d take you.” Embry taunts, a shocked expression plastering Jared’s face.
“Right, you’re on boy.” Jared jumps to his feet along with Embry and they both run from the cabin. One of them pretends to howl like a wolf as they run down the porch steps and follow Sam into the darkness.
After witnessing the entire scene, a confused laugh bubbles to the surface and forces its way out as you take one of the now vacated seats. “I’ll pretend I know what just happened” you say, hysterics threatening to follow. From the look on Sarah’s face you can tell she’s just as confused as you.
“Trust me, that’s what I do” Emily starts gathering empty plates, busying herself. “I never know what's going on with these ones” she gestures towards the boys.
“Ouch!” one you've not met before, feigns hurt. “I’m Seth by the way,” he’s quieter than the rest, “It’s nice to finally meet Pauls-” he looks between the two of you trying to decide what words are best to use.
“Yes, I’d like to know what you guys are.” Sarah chimes in, Seth instantly looks down at the table, feeling guilty for bringing on her accusing tone. “I mean, for God's sake!” her hands slam down on the table as she shoots to her feet, evidently coming to the end of her patience.
“Sarah-” You try to soothe her, but it doesn't have the desired effect.
“Don’t!” she warns, her voice barely concealing the anger.
“Sarah please don’t” you try to plead with her not to leave, following her outside as she ignores your voice. “Sarah, talk to me.” Frustration boils beneath your surface as you start to feel torn between your friend and… well, whatever he is to you.
“Like you talk to me?” she snaps back. “Some friendship this is” she scoffs, opening the door to her car. Your hand pushes back against the metal, slamming it to stop her from leaving.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you fold your arms defensively across your chest, blinking rapidly to stop tears from forming.
“I’ve done nothing but be there for you during whatever this is” She gestures all around and then at you “I’ve tried talking to you, hell, I’ve even covered for you to your family, to our boss. I’ve had your back this entire time, despite warning you.”
“Warning me? What warning?”
Sarah stares at you, eyes wide, the hurt evident. “He’s bad news and you can’t see that.” she rubs her eyes to hide how glassy they’ve become. “Did he tell you what happened to your job? Did he fucking tell you our boss ended up in hospital?”
“What?” The shock of her statement was written all over your face. He’d left that detail out. A smile pulls at Sarah’s mouth followed by a laugh.
“Of course he didn’t” she continues to drive her point. “He has major anger issues. What’s to stop him from doing that to you?”
“No” you shake your head “he wouldn't do that to me, he wouldn’t… I know-”
“You don’t know him!” she grabs your arms and shakes you “Listen to me! See the signs! Look at what’s happened! First he drugs you”
“Hold on, that’s not what happened-”
“Second, he puts your boss in danger” she cuts you off and starts listing things that have happened, counting them on her fingers “And then just today, You were mad at him and the next thing you’re running off and I’ve got a group of messed up weirdos telling me you’re with him and then you turn up barely dressed! What am I supposed to think?” She’s exasperated and confused as she slaps he sees with her arms.
“If I wanted a lecture I’d have clued my mother in on all this!” your anger has returned. You sense his presence watching from the cabin window; it does little to calm you. If anything it spurs you on, feeling the need to defend him. “You don’t understand.”
“Then tell me” Sarah begs you.
“I can’t…there are no words.” Seeing her look of disappointment, you give an explanation a go “It sounds ridiculous but it's like in the movies, when they say love at first sight. I can’t get him out of my head, I need to be around him. It hurts to be apart-”
“God, just listen to yourself. Do you know how crazy you sound? How can you love someone you barely know? You sound delusional.” she grabs your head, moving it to face what little light resonates from the cabin. She moves in closer, studying your eyes before snapping her head round to face Paul as he emerges from the building. “Have you drugged her again?” Sarah starts towards him, hurling more accusations. You yell after her, trying to stop it before it happens, knowing what Sarah gets like with a bee in her bonnet. You grab her by the elbow, pulling her astray and yanking her back to face you.
“Stop please” you almost sob. She pulls her arm free to which you grab her again.
“Stay away from her, you hear me?” she turns her attention back to Paul who had made his way over. “I know what you are!” she spits at him. For a brief second, panic enters Paul’s eyes “I’ve known men like you my whole life. Let her go!” She tries to reach for him with her free arm, only just about managing to give him a slight shove, which to a man his size, was nothing. Frustrated, Sarah lashes out, she pushes her elbow back into you, causing you to stumble and fall to the ground. You don’t cry out as white hot pain sears up your hip, the scream held back by panic. You watch as Sarah, having released herself from your grip, lands a blow to Paul’s face. Despite the pain, you push to your feet and put yourself between the two of them before more damage is done. Sarah stands back, the anger dissipating as she watches you put yourself in her path, your hand resting on Paul’s chest to stop his advance. Disappointment replaces her anger as you yell for her to stop like she’s the monster; your words to him being kinder and much softer. Truth of the matter is you can sense his anger and if what she said was true between Paul and your boss, you needed to do whatever it was to stop him from doing that to Sarah. You still weren’t sure he was capable of that, not after seeing how gentle he has been with you, but what if he also gets the feeling to protect and defend you, the same one you experienced earlier? What would it drive him to do?
“Well,” Sarah starts walking backwards, taking in the scene. Waves of sadness lap at you as tears fall from her eyes. “I guess you’ve made your choice then.” She chokes on the last sentence as she turns to get into her car, the anger completely gone, replaced by emptiness in both of you. The sound of the car sputtering to life wakes you from the trance you entered. Your hand leaves Paul as your feet start to run towards her car.
“Don’t go,” you whisper, hoping that she would somehow hear. You wipe your own tears off on the back of your hand as you chase her car up the dirt track, knowing she can see you in the mirror. Paul’s concerned shouts drown out in white noise as you continue up the drive long after Sarah is still no longer in view. “Don’t go, not like this” you mumble as the pace slows to a walk, your feet clumsily taking you forward until your senses start to wake back up, reality whooshing back in. The pain at your hip is a reminder of events and the hollowness inside for the mourning of your only friend in this place. You stumble through the pain of your hip, now fully aware of the presence that follows you. The urge to run into his arms is overwhelming as you crave comfort but doubt has started to creep back in, sowing its seed in your mind, so you ignore him for a little longer.
Eventually he approaches you, after your emotions settle. Allowing him to take you into his arms, you take a deep breath to savour the moment and solidify him in your memory. You’ve had time to think and time is what you need more than anything.
“I want to go home.” earlier the prospect of leaving Paul hurt more than anything but now you relish in the idea of space as you feel yourself shutting down. Although he doesn’t want to let you go, he knows he can’t smother you.
“Just don’t shut me out, talk to me.” He strokes your hair as he holds you, hoping his words would reach you deep inside, so you know that you’re not alone. You break from his hold as his words remind you of similar ones from Sarah.
Do I shut people out? I don’t mean to…
Briefly do you look into his eyes, the only feature to give away the pain he’s currently in, watching you go through this. Once again feeling sad you turn and head back down the track towards the cabin.
“Have I lost you?” his question cuts deeper than a knife, dissolving the last piece of your stability. “Tell me I haven’t lost you” his voice breaks as he pleads for an answer. It hurts you even more to hear him like this, you want to comfort him and tell him everything is okay but you can’t find it in you to do that.
“You’ll never lose me” you whisper as you put distance between the both of you. Despite it being almost inaudible, you feel certain he’s heard or senses it as his footfalls start to follow you once again. The words you whispered running over your mind in a constant loop. Seemingly you’ve made a choice this day; no matter what, you’re here for the long run. The idea of losing Paul, the hurt involved with that, outweighs everything else. The thought alone is almost enough to send you to the floor in a hysterical fit of hyperventilating and panic. He’ll never lose you.
here are two requests! I'm ok with whatever you choose of course!
You got into an accident and Carlisle finds you. You wake up to Carlisle working over you and he takes you back to the house. He gives you the option to be changed but you are super nervous. He is super sweet and helps you though it
Second option! you are a friend of the Cullen's and went to their house to wait for Alice. You are just chilling when you start to feel an anxiety attack coming. Jasper and Carlisle help you out
⎔ MASTERLIST ⎔ REQUESTS ⎔ TWILIGHT ⎔
The Accident [Carlisle x reader]
Word Count: 1.3K
Warnings: Mentions of death, injury detail. Big talk of vampirism ;) non-romantic relationship between reader and Carlisle
A/N: Thank you @lillybearblog for the request and sorry for how long it took to respond, I hope this will make up for it :) I chose number 1, but changed the order of events a little.
UPDATE: tumblr seems to be throwing a mare currently. When I uploaded this originally on my laptop everything was fine, but on the phone/tablet the writing was I black and therefore couldn’t be read. Please comment if you can actually see/read this, I’d greatly appreciate it x
The rain was coming down in heavy sheets, pounding against the windscreen of your car. The wiper blades whoosh frantically as they try to clear the view as you drive back from Port Angeles to Forks. The last sign you’d been able to read properly before the deluge started indicated that the journey was only half done and since the weather changed, your speed had reduced to almost a crawl. The journey would be long and tedious now but you weren’t used to the roads, only having passed your test a few weeks back, so proceeding with caution seems sensible, especially since the visibility is only a metre or two max.
However nothing could have prepared you, not the slow speed or the way you instantly jam your foot on the break. You feel the car dip to the right as you slip off the road on a corner; the wheels sliding over mud, unable to get traction. Instinctively you depress the clutch and break simultaneously but it’s far too late. The sudden loss of power and jarring action of the break causes the car to roll as momentum takes it onward. It clangs its way down the hillside, glass shattering; the shards slashing at your face and arms. You bounce in your seat, held in place by the belt which squeezes at your insides. Darkness seizes your body after your head crashes violently against the headrest. Something warm trickles down your neck and fear creeps in.
Unsure as to how long you black out for, you come round to the sound of metal being wrenched apart, only just audible over the high pitched ringing in your ears. You want to open your eyes and look to the noise but find yourself unable to. Something calls to you from the peaceful darkness that threatens to never let you go. It promises safety and warmth, eternal and everlasting, if you only let go. Curiosity picks at you as strange sounds evade your peace. Straining you make out voices, maybe even a touch but it’s hard to tell as your body goes numb. The voices drift in and out of range, every word sounding less important to you as you give in to the darkness. That is until you hear the one phrase that drives panic into your chest.
“Quick, she’s dying.” There's urgency in the voice and yet it still sounds calm. This isn’t the first time the owner has looked death in the face and nor would it be the last. Instantly your eyes shoot open, the vision cloudy and indistinctive. They flitter from patches of light and dark as they try to gain focus, finding it unnerving as blurry shapes move, reaching out towards you at incomprehensible speed. That’s when it registers, something prods your throat, earning a strained gurgle from you as you try to speak.
“Her pulse is weakening” the voice grows louder as the ringing subsides.
Help. Please help me. You want to shout, but can’t find your voice. Your eyes shut as the darkness claims you once again.
The next time you regain consciousness, the world feels as though it’s spinning as you stare up through the tree canopy, cold grey light flooding your irises, making them water. Someone enters your field of vision, blocking the light from view, their face pallid but expression filled with sympathy and kindness. Again pressure fills your neck as they press cold fingers into your pulse point, a shocked gurgle escaping your mouth. You’re aware of a bubbling hiss as wetness pools against your chest.
The man above you moves his lips and you notice his appearance; from his blonde hair to his strange golden eyes. Coldness engulfs your body as you struggle to focus on anything other than how ethereal he is. For a while, you don’t realise he’s as the world rushes in all at once. Once adjusted, you notice his lips move again and his eyes staring into yours, intent on gaining your attention.
“I’m a doctor, can you understand me?” The question cuts through the air, crisp and clear. There’s no mistaking what he’s said. A doctor? Elation fills your heart. Your memories are hazy but having a doctor could only be good, right?
“You’ve been in a nasty accident, the windscreen shards have pierced your chest, you don’t have long.” Again the voice deals a heavy blow. However this time the urgency is gone, replaced by a pitiful intonation. The statement is quick and to the point, yet still your brain hesitates in processing the information.
“Do you understand?” He questions, watching as his heavy words sink in, sparking fear in your darkening eyes as the gravity of the situation hits home. Your hand reaches up to his, grabbing it in a death grip as you refuse to let go of life. Desperately you try to plead for your life, nothing but a gurgle comes as you choke on something hot and thick in the back of your throat.
Oh god.
“Puh…” you manage, “puh…”
Please, for god's sake. Please help me. Tears brim from your eyes as you silently beg him. Surely there’s something he can do as a doctor, or at least help and end the suffering. With that thought your eyes change; defeat accepted.
“She wants you to help her” another voice sounds from behind you, calm and peaceful. How could anyone be calm right now?
Because they’re not the one dying.
“Carlisle,” that same voice repeats, “She wants you to end her suffering.” It comes as a warning, in case the blonde by your side was thinking the same as you.
“I can’t. As a doctor I took an oath.” His eyes flash from you to the other “Edward-” he’s abruptly cut off mid sentence. Would it have been a plea for the other man - Edward- to help, or was there more to it?
“Then let me…” the voice trails off as your breathing quickens at the thought of death coming quicker. The doctor -Carlisle- looks down at you, renewed hope sparkling in his eyes, before he cranes his head to your ear.
“If there was a way to end the suffering and still live, would you accept? Even if it meant having to lead a different life, shrouded in secrecy, away from family and friends, perhaps alone…isolated even” He leans back, watching as thoughts flicker across your expression. You’d accepted the hand that had been dealt. You’d begged for death as you realised there was no option to be saved. Confused and not fully understanding you nod your head, greedily wanting the life that had been taken from you.
“Carlisle, you can’t, she doesn’t fully understand what she’s agreeing too” This time the warning is stronger, anger laces the words. The kind of anger one holds onto, that forms a grudge from past experience.
“She’s given her consent, she’ll learn and understand in time Son” The doctor lowers his head once more. You wait patiently for what seems a long time, waiting to hear words spoken softly like the last, but they never come. You feel the cold skin of his face press against the crook of your neck and hear him inhale sharply. Pain briefly erupts over your neck, like nothing you have ever felt before but is one again in seconds. You notice something dark covering his once pale lips as he withdraws from you. You don’t have time to register what it is before pain returns, running the length of your body, your neck burning the most.
“Help me get her back Edward” are the last words you remember of your old life.
Your eyes open, anew and restored to the world. Your senses are flooded with vibrant colours, smells and sounds as you take in your new surroundings. Gone is the dark dreariness of the crash site, replaced by a bright cheery start to your next life.
⎔ MASTERLIST ⎔ REQUESTS ⎔ FEAR STREET ⎔ UNDER YOUR SKIN ⎔
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: dominance, teasing, control, mentions of female stimulation, language, mentions of abuse, violence, angst
A/N: sorry its been a while coming, I've been busy. Think i found all the warnings, don't hesitate to tell me.
← Chapter 1 ▫️ Chapter 3 →
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Last night was quiet, no arguing to disturb your sleep. You wish that meant you slept well. Instead sleep eludes you while thoughts of the encounter with Sheriff Goode invade your thoughts and when you wake in themorning you were sure it must have been a dream. The cautionary warning ticket reminds you otherwise as you stare at it on the coffee table sipping your morning tea. Your fingers tap the side of the mug, reflecting the anxiety swimming around your body. It is currently seven thirty in the morning, what time does the station open? Does it even shut? Were you expected dead on time at opening hour or were his words an empty threat. “If you fail to turn up at the station tomorrow…” You understood his meaning last night and believe him to be a man of his word, among other things. The tea mug slams down on the coffee table, sloshing hot liquid everywhere. You make a mental note to clean it up later as you rush to the bedroom to quickly change; pulling on a pair of old jeans, white t-shirt and a beige cardigan only managing to get a few buttons done before slipping some shoes on and heading for the front door. You take the stairs two at a time, being careful not to slip, but something grabs your attention halfway down. The door to the downstairs apartment is open. You hadn’t noticed in your frustration last night but the police must have kicked it down. The door is buckled near the keyhole, splitters coming out in every direction. Pity fills your chest as you think of the poor woman who lives there, how she’s been treated and now not even a secure place to live. The feeling is soon replaced when you remember she got you into this predicament with the Sheriff anyway.
With a renewed sense of urgency you exit the complex and start down the street at a half running half walking, somewhere in between, pace. It takes less than twenty minutes to get there on foot but you’re filled with dread as a police cruiser passes you by, only five minutes away from the station. You don’t dare look to see who is in the car, you already know. Shit. How bad can he possibly make your life? He’s only one man and there must be some higher official so he doesn’t abuse his power… or maybe not. You lose motivation and your pace slows, arriving at the station for eight fifteen. Begrudgingly you pull the heavy door open and walk into what feels like your doom. Hoping to be greeted by some annoyingly energetic young receptionist, you couldn’t be more wrong. He waits, propped against the welcome desk, one hand at his side while the other leans on the waist height counter. You wish he was wearing the usual smug grin, but instead he watches you with a cool expression, not portraying much emotion. He’s wearing his official business façade. What did you expect? Of course he would be, he’s at work. He doesn’t say anything before glancing at the clock on the wall above you playing it calm and collected. Finally you give in, speaking first: “Should we proceed?” you prompt eager for his attention to be elsewhere. Without speaking he lifts his free hand to point in the direction of an interview room, not needing words to show his authoritative energy which sparks nerves in you. You stand at a stalemate for a few seconds, neither one of you moving first. He shows no signs of budging, so you reluctantly start walking down the brightly lit corridor noticing how bland the walls are in an intimidating way with nothing to stimulate or distract the mind. You stop at the first door not sure where it was you’re supposed to be going, he doesn’t correct you as you look back at him on the approach. He stops by you and leans in closer than necessary to open the door, keys jangling as he slips them into the lock. You turn your face away from him to show your contempt as the door swings open revealing a dark cold room with no windows. He waits for you to step inside before switching on the lights to reveal an empty room save for a table and two chairs. He shoves past you as the door behind you clicks shut. You realise he’s treating you like every other criminal that’s been here. Well, not every criminal, you can’t imagine he pulls a chair out for just anyone. It’s an act, all of it. One that he knows works. He doesn’t wait for you to take the seat before sitting himself down opposite, staring at your vacant chair. Let’s get this over with. And with that thought you sit yourself down, carefully, keeping yourself on guard. You scan the room, eye flickering to the CCTV in the corner. Other than that, there’s no tape recorder or paper. Nothing. He pulls his chair closer to the table, legs manspreading to assert dominance and hands on the table all the while his cold blue eyes stare into yours. You stay where you are, not wanting to get closer than needed and cross your legs. Your arms are crossed over your chest, your nails digging into your palms to regain some focus. The door to the room swings open as another officer walks in carrying a brown manila folder. You squirm in your seat not liking the idea of being trapped with two males but to your relief the newcomer only hands the file over to the Sheriff before leaving the two of you alone again. You lean forward slightly to see what the file was as the Sheriff flips it open revealing a mugshot of your neighbour. He pulls a blank document out and starts filling in the sections.
“Name?” He bluntly asks. You don’t reply quick enough so he reiterates it “Name?” He glances up at you, eyebrows raised “Name and Date of birth?” You snap into action giving them. “Do you have any proof of identification if we wish to check up on what you provide here today?”
You nod, following it by giving your answer “Yes.” His eyes return to the page in front of him scanning for the next part relevant to you.
“Do you know this man?” He asks, pushing the mugshot towards me. You nod which leads him to ask “Do you recognise this man to be Mr Thomas Brown?” Your voice catches in your throat as you attempt to answer.
“No, I mean, I don’t know his name?” You clarify
“I thought you knew him?” He's trying to trip you up, making you question what you were saying.
“I know of him, only as the man that lives downstairs.” His eyes turn away from you.
“Do you know the wife?”
“Only in the same way.”
“Mrs Brown says you could testify, have you-” you rudely jump the gun and cut him off, knowing full well what goes on in the apartment below yours. Having been in a similar situation yourself, you’re quick to defend her.
“Yes. I can hear it all night long, most nights. He’s a brute.” He nods his head in understanding. Maybe he’s not so bad after all if he’s willing to help. “Are you going to help her?” you blurt out, catching him off guard. He leans back in his chair and for a moment his guise slips, allowing you a glimpse of the compassionate, albeit tired, devoted Sheriff.
“I’m going to try.” Just like that his hard exterior goes back up. He continues to press you for answers, going round and round in circles until you have enough.
“We’re going in circles.”
“Why are you so interested in your neighbours?” And there it was, the question you’d been dreading. It floods your brain with horrific memories rendering you unable to speak. He studies you, feeling sorry as he hits the nail on the head yet also accomplished in working you out. “Perhaps you relate a little too much to Mrs Brown… was it a boyfriend?” he probes. Your eyes wander up from their position staring at the table to meet him. Hatred and rage burns in you, lacing your stare with heavy tension. You want to scream at him but where would that get you other than giving him satisfaction? You have, undeniably, a good poker face, but years of reading people gives him the upper hand. It’s the small flickers in the eyes and the change in pupils. You were hiding something from him. “Or was it your daddy?” You stand up, the chair pushing away from you. Jackpot: daddy issues he makes a mental note.
There’s no need for words, your fast escape from the room says it all. You don’t look back as he follows you out to the corridor, watching you leave. Morning air hits your face sharp and tangy as you suck in rapid breaths in an attempt to stay calm. You leave the station grounds, waiting until you’ve rounded the corner before dropping to a crouch and grabbing your knees as waves of nausea hit. You fight against the memories of the past that flood your brain. Your right hand flys to your left arm, pinching the skin with your nails until bright red crescent moon shapes appear on the smooth skin. Tears well in your eyes at the pain of the marks but it pushes all other thoughts away. You forbid yourself to ever think of this morning ever again. Reluctantly your feet start to move, carrying you back home. You have a few hours until your shift starts, enough time to eat and get ready. You spend the rest of the morning lounging around the apartment, drinking coffee and eating toast before going for a shower. You rush getting dressed as the shift nears. The shift itself goes by incredibly slowly, the entire time you’re dreading a certain someone showing up to mess with you. But he doesn’t. After six hours you’re thankful to be finishing, tiredness has set in, your limbs feel heavy and your eyes sting. The rest of your evening goes quickly following the same boring routine as always. Dinner, TV or book and then bed. Sleep came to you quickly once you’d crawled beneath the duvet, your body sinking into the soft mattress and immediately relaxing. The world fades away.
***
Thud.
It’s the middle of the night, silence fills the air, but something has woken you. Or did you dream of it? No, there had definitely been a sound. You lay in the dark, straining your ears to catch it again.
Thud.
There’s no missing it the second time as someone pounds on your door. You reach out of the cozy duvet where it’s warm and safe, to turn the bedside lamp on and illuminate the room. You grab the cardigan you had discarded on the end of the bed and pull it on, covering yourself before setting two feet on the ground. Creeping across the carpet you head for the front door, which is eerily silent. Now would be the perfect opportunity for a spy hole, you curse the decision not to have one. Instead you opt for calling out, asking who was knocking at this hour.
“Open up” the familiar voice rings out, “It’s Sheriff Goode.” You pull away from the door, hesitant as to why the Sheriff is at your apartment late at night. What could possibly have happened. Nerves eat at you as you realise you’d walked out of the interview. Did that also count as perverting justice? Would this be another ticket, or worse? Your hand reaches reluctantly for the lock, sliding it back on itself. The door opens to reveal him, standing with his arms against the frame, hair slightly dishevelled from long hours in the office, eyes slightly sunken. Something about his appearance makes your nerves disappear to be replaced with butterflies. If it was official business he would be dressed to impress.. “Can I come in?” You hear the softness in his voice, the gentle plead to his tone. This is the side of Sheriff Goode that not many people see, one that makes you forget the ass he can be. It’s seductive. You don’t think about it before opening the door wider to grant him access to the apartment. He takes a few long strides into the room as you shut the door, closing the two of you off from the world. You stare at him expectantly, looking for an answer as to why he is here but he offers no explanation.
Finally you speak, “Is there something I can help you with?” Your voice is husky from sleep, he notes, unable to deny how sexy it makes you sound.
He clears his throat trying to piece together thoughts but he can’t take his eyes off you and can’t concentrate properly. “I have some questions” is all he manages, leaving you more perplexed, the nerves coming back. Perhaps it is official business after all.
“I’ll have to go back to the station tomorrow-“ you start to joke before he cuts you off.
“Why are you like this?” He asks, a playful quality to his voice, which has gone down an octave into a low sensual tone.
“I don’t understand…” you purse your lips in thought as more confusion hits you. He takes a step towards you, as you suddenly become aware of the tension in the room. He’s radiating authority as he comes closer still, making you nervous but also excited. Something in you wants to test the waters more but you don’t get the chance.
“Why are you so…” he grasps for words, his eyes travelling your body taking in your short pyjama shorts and the camisole exposed beneath your cardigan. The top of your breasts peak out teasing him as they start to move under the deep breaths you draw in proximity to him. He can’t deny loving the way he feels around you, powerful and dominant and the way you feel around him. Finally he finds the words “why are you so damn irresistible?” Your mouth drops in shock not expecting this turn of events. His body is so close to yours it takes every ounce of concentration left to focus.
“I don’t-“
“Don’t play coy with me.” He flashes that boyish smile “I know you feel it too.” He backs you into the door leaving you no escape route, his hands planting firmly beside your head. All you see and feel is him in your space, in your senses. There’s no room for anything else. He leans in to whisper against your ear “How am I supposed to focus all day long when you haunt my thoughts?” His breath is hot against your cheek and sends tingles down your spine. You can smell his cologne, and under it his scent. It drives you wild as heat ignites in your core. His mouth moves closer until it hovers inches from your neck, his right hand sliding down the door to grab your hip before his lips caress the soft skin by your jaw. You move your head to give him better access as he plants a trail of kisses down to your collarbone. The other arm finds itself following the pursuit of the right and works its way around your waist pulling your body closer until it’s pressed tightly against his. A gasp falls from your mouth as he gently bites the dip in your neck, before sucking on this same spot. Your hands wrap around his neck and lock into his hair with a vice like grip earning a moan from him. You smile to yourself as you discover a weakness of his but it soon disappears to be replaced with a whimpering moan of your own as his hand travels from your hips to your ass and pulls you onto your tiptoes. His head moves away from your neck as he takes a moment to admire his handy work, tomorrow morning would reveal a nasty love bite. A claim for all the world to see. You look up at him with heavy eyes, arms still around his neck. He knows what you want but needs to hear you say it. He wants to hear you beg for what you’ve denied, the feelings suppressed. He’s known since the minute you laid eyes on one another, despite your best efforts to dislike him. The stronger your contempt grew for him, the more his desire matched it.
Your cheeks flush as he stares down at you, which riles him up further. You notice his eyes move from yours down to your plump lips, as he thinks about what he’d like your mouth to do, before travelling down to your chest. Something inside him snaps as he crashes his lips to yours, hungry for your touch. The movement slams you back into the door earning yet another moan from you which was music to his ears. He slid his tongue past your lips as your hands moved to his chest trying to quickly undo the buttons of his blue shirt. There was urgency in your actions, desire lacing every move. Nick decides he isn’t going to let you have what you want, not just yet. You need to know who’s in charge around here. His hands come down to enclose yours on his chest, stopping them a few buttons down from his neck. The kiss breaks as you look at him, aware of the change of atmosphere. He locks his fingers around your wrists bringing them above your head which isn’t hard being so short, he moves his positioning so he can secure them with one of his hands, keeping the other free to do as he pleases. It comes down to your right breast, squeezing it through the fabric of your top. Immediately your nipples harden at the sensation, delighting him endlessly. His fingers trail across the skin at the neckline of the top, threatening to go below. Your eyes shoot him a pleading look which is met by a devilishly smug smile.
“Say it” He whispers, eyes boring into yours as if in doing so he could read your mind, “Tell me…” he trails off as his hands slips below your camisole and he cups your breast. He grows hard at the feel of you, his growing erection pressing against your hip. You try to squirm free of his grip to get a hand loose but it’s impossible. Your head rolls back as his fingers pinch your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and index. Your breath hitches as you try to subdue a moan. Nick isn’t having any of it, he wants you exposed, not just your body, but your feelings too. He wants to know he’s been right all along.
“Nick” you whine as you lift yourself away from the door and press yourself to him, lips inches from his. He senses you’re close to admitting total surrender as he glides his hand down your body and slips it inside your shorts. Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers start to work circles around your clit, your resolve melting away into nothing. It’s all over too soon. His hand retreats, earning a glare from you while the other drops your arms. He pulls away from you, putting space between the two of you. He eyes you in the state you’re left, breathless and flushed with a burning need for him. Your eyes drop to the floor in embarrassment at the realisation of what just happened and at how quickly you became putty in his hands, but more so of how much you wanted it. You find the courage to meet his gaze, how can he remain so cool and collected? Truth is, he has one hell of a poker face. Underneath he’s just as much a mess as you are. The heat between your thighs burns with a renewed sense of directive as you take in his appearance. His hair which was already disheveled, is now sticking out in multiple directions from where your hands ran through it. His eyes are dilated and watch you intently as you ponder your next move.
“Nick…” He hears the surrender in your voice at the loss of not knowing what to do. You don’t know the next move. You’re a good girl, you don’t play like this and don’t know how to respond but your eyes speak a million words. They draw him back in and he takes your hands again, holding them against your body as he watches your face for a sign. “Nick” you whine, “Please.” There it is. He lets your hands go and they automatically fly up to his neck pulling him down into a passionate kiss. You pull away, forehead against his as your fingers lace through his hair. “I need you” you pant. It’s enough for now, but he makes a mental note to teach you how to properly beg later. “Please Nick, fuck me.” He didn’t think he could get harder, but hearing you say that made him stiffen more. You lean in and kiss him before biting down on his lower lip, fueling not only your desire but the monster within too.
You sit bolt upright in bed, your eyes flying open. The room is dark as your eyes scan around searching, moonlight leaking in through the window. You’re alone. Your body collapses back onto the mattress, duvet tangled around your lower half. Your chest heaves under your heavy breathing as you realise it was all a dream.
“What the fuck” you announce to the empty room, trying to wrap your mind around why you were dreaming of the sleazy, annoying, ass that is Sheriff Goode. Despite that, you can’t ignore the way you feel, your nipples are hard and your legs are squeezed together in an attempt to relieve the tension that’s built in between your thighs.
Your body was betraying you, worst of all, it was betraying you to him.
Warnings: angst, fluff, lots of fluff tbh, slow burn
A/N: Not my GIF, credit to whoever's it is :)
Hopefully this is satisfactorily better, no spoilers but... I enjoyed writing this. I rushed to get this out, hopefully no spelling/grammar mistakes.
← Chapter 5 ▪️ Chapter 7 →
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You wake mid morning to rain, clouds and an empty house, none of which contributes to the empty loneliness inside you. You yearn for something else, his smell, his touch, hell you’d even settle for just his presence in the house. To be quite honest with yourself, you had given in and weren’t fighting anymore, although you still weren’t sure what it is that you want, you know you won’t try to subvert feelings and hide anymore. Of course you won’t admit this to Paul though. You push the duvet back, revealing your pyjama clad torso to the cold air, which admittedly was quite nice after getting so hot in the night. You turn to your side, one leg slipping out of the sheets as you cuddle the duvet and bury your face in the mass of material. Reluctantly you get up, deciding a shower would distract you from thoughts of him. As hot water washes over your body you can’t help but smile, hoping he is struggling as much as you are. Spending only five minutes in the shower, you wrap up in the biggest scratichest towel you can find and roughly blow dry your hair, not caring too much about styling it. Your phone buzzes from the bedside table as you search for clothes. Quickly you grab a pair of grey gym leggings and baggy black top before diving for the phone.
“Hello” you answer, half expecting your mother’s voice to be checking up on you.
“How are you today?” Sarah’s voice hits your eardrum like music, relief it’s not your mother washes over you.
“I’m good,” You yank the leggings on while you hold the phone between your shoulder and jaw “Just struggling to get dressed” you laugh.
“Oh good! You’re up.” Sarah exclaimed excitedly down the phone, instantly causing an anxious feeling to rise in you.
“Why do I not like your tone?” You question as she lets out a squeal, “Sarah?”
“Don’t be mad-”
“Don’t give me a reason to be.”
“Lighten up” she jokes, “I thought you could do with a day out, I could drive us to Port Angeles-”
“No” you cut her off. Sarah stays silent, “Sorry that was rude, I just don’t like shopping” you offer in explanation “Besides, I have no money” which was the truth, payday wasn’t for another week or two.
“Ah, I forgot you’ve only been at the job for two weeks...”she trails off, disappointment present in her tone.
“We could go for a hike? Make the most of living on the edge of a national park” You ask, giving her an alternative which is met by a disapproving sound of disgust.
“Not only is it cold and wet and miserable but…well, I told some other friends they could come shopping. So, I kinda have to go now...” You could go and spend no money, but where was the fun in traipsing around a city watching everyone else shop. Your heart sinks when you realise your only friend here has other friends, ultimately meaning you will be alone all day.
“No, no, that’s cool. I’d have loved to, maybe we could do it again after pay day?” You tried to hide the disappointment, not wanting to put a damper on Sarah’s day.
“Promise me you won’t go out hiking alone, the forests are big and-”
“Okay, okay. I won’t. Besides, the rain just got heavier” you point out as you watch it come down thick and heavy against your bedroom window as you plonk yourself into the bay seat. “I might have a reading day, we both know I am in need of a restful day.” you muse, hoping to satisfy her. You aren’t one for lying but you feel restless and don’t know how long you can just sit here for.
“Okay,” she isn’t convinced, you can tell, but leaves it at that “call if you need anything”
“Yeah, will do.” You both hang up.
Curiosity gets the best of you as you sit for a few minutes staring at the exact spot where something had been last night. Without properly thinking it through you rush downstairs to the backdoor, you shove a pair of boots on and pull a raincoat over yourself before beelining for the trees, fueled by intrigue. The rain feels heavy and hot as it hits your face. It causes the grass to squelch and turn to mud beneath your feet, making the journey treacherous as it threatens to pull you over every step of the way. Carefully you make your way to the spot, your eyes flitting from the trees to the forest floor, to the grass for any sign of something being here. But the rain has erased all traces of the animal from the night. You push forward into the trees. The rain, although heavy, hasn't penetrated the thick canopy and therefore the ground is more or less intact. However it does feel damp underfoot, with the odd drop splattering here and there. The pine needles no longer have the same satisfying crunch as usual. Again your eyes traverse the landscape, searching for a sign. Nothing. Again. You would feel defeated if it wasn’t for the other feeling, or was it a thought? Telling you, urging you further into the forest to find answers. For some reason the thought of the big empty forest didn’t scare you like it once had. The promise you’d made Sarah lurks in your brain. You’d agreed not to go hiking alone, technically though this was an exploratory mission and you weren’t far from the house. Besides, you’d been in with Frank and your Mother. You shrug to yourself and set off further into the unknown with renewed determination.
There were signs of broken foliage, but that could have been from the last time you and Frank had been through, or some other hikers. Only when your thighs felt the burn did you stop, noticing the slight incline in your journey. You don’t remember going uphill with Frank, are you lost? Continuing the uphill climb, you soon heard the sound of running water. Knowing no source of water ran near the house, you realised you must have been miles off course. Only when thinking about how long you’d been out did you notice the hunger in your stomach having not had breakfast or lunch before leaving the house. Would you be able to retrace your footsteps? We’ll go in a straight line, walk for an hour, you’ll be in town. Frank’s voice echoes around your head from the last walk. If that had been a straight line from the house, your journey today certainly hadn’t been. It is too risky trying to navigate your way back. Instead you head for the water, following your ears, which was probably the smartest thing you could do in this situation. If they end up looking for you, they’ll look near water or any other big landmarks, hopefully it won’t get to that. Hopefully you’ll stumble across one of the Olympic hiking trails and find a sign, if you follow the water.
What had been the sound of trickling water has grown into a burbling as you emerge on the moss covered banks of the small river. The water cascades by rocks and under a fallen tree, all of which is covered in the same vibrant green moss as the banks. It is breathtakingly beautiful. If it wasn’t so calming, panic would have grown at the sight of the untouched location, at the realisation that you could still be miles from anywhere with people and lost. You sit down on the moss covered tree, looking as the water winds its way downhill. Reaching into your back pocket you retrieve your phone. Of course there is no signal, that’s to be expected, thankfully you were more interested in the time.
“Holy shit.” you gape at the phone, seeing the device display the time as sixteen hundred hours. “I really have been out here for hours…” you tell the surroundings, not sure as to why you voiced the thought allowed. You really did need to head back, and fast, if you didn’t want to cause more panic and terror for your family. Would it be quicker to find the source of the water and hope for a road and hitch a lift or try and retrace your steps? You study the river, which barely qualifies as a river, the banks couldn’t be more than a meter apart which meant the source was close by. Abruptly you stand and decide upon crossing the water, using the rocks as stepping stones. Carefully you make it across the water to the other bank. Your boot hits the damp moss and slips, plunging your foot into the cold water which fills your boot.
The silence of the forest breaks with the sound of footfalls and tree branches in the distance, your cold wet foot was the least of your worries. Was the animal you’d spent all day looking for suddenly tracking you? Quickly you push yourself off the ground, as you think you hear someone call out your name. Your head snaps around to face the side of the river you’d been on not a minute ago as it sounds again, this time you were certain it was your name. The reply catches in your throat as the feeling of giddiness engulfs you, your cheeks blush at the realisation of who it is. He doesn’t need your reply to find you because he emerges on the other bank quick enough.
“What are you doing?” You smile, meeting his worried expression. He crosses the river using the same stepping stones but at a faster pace than you had used making you think this wasn’t his first time here. He moves confidently as if he knows the forest like the back of his hand. He cups your face with his big hands, turning your chin to see every angle and then turns his attention to your hands. You didn't realise your fall had left your palms grazed. Only now focusing on the pain your hand reaches for your left cheek seeking out the graze there.
“Why are you out here?” He asks, a gruffness to his voice you had yet to hear. The question takes you back, confused by the nature of it.
“Why are you out here?” You repeat, as he ignored your question the first time. He gives you a glance if to say don’t be childish, before breathing a sigh of relief.
“I’m just glad you’re okay.” He ignores the question again as he pulls you into his arms holding you tightly against him, as he places a kiss on the top of your damp head and takes a deep breath in, savouring your scent. You were happy to let the obvious avoidance of your question go, for the time being, knowing the conversation was probably better suited elsewhere. “Let me take you home” he says softly, his voice deep and hypnotising.
You pull away from his body to look up at his face, “please” you laugh “I’m lost.”
Paul rolls his eyes. “I know.”
“How?” you pout, not liking how he seems to know your business.
“Did you mean to be here?” He looks around to prove his point while stepping aside to allow you to cross back over the water.
“No.” You state as you gingerly place a foot on the first stepping stone, feeling Paul’s eyes watch your feet. “But all the best places are found when lost.” You tease as you cross to another rock.
“Is that so?” He tries to joke back but his thoughts seem far away as his concentration is on making sure you don’t slip again as he follows behind.
“Well, all the great explorers were lost before they discovered places and things.” You point out, comfortable to babble nonsensically as you reach the other bank and place two feet firmly on the ground. “Anyway, I think it’s rather beautiful here” You turn to look at the surroundings again as Paul joins you on the banks.
“I’ve seen prettier,” he states. You notice from your peripherals that his eyes are trained on you, not the location. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you try to ignore the growing tension but eventually you turn to meet his gaze.
“You’ll have to show me this prettier place sometime” you tease, earning a chuckle from him. He extends his arm out offering his hand to you, hesitantly you take it realising Paul is the first guy to hold your hand. Embarrassment creeps into your body language causing him to ask if you’re okay. “Mhmm” you respond, not knowing how to act natural anymore.He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before being playful and calling you out.
“I can let go if you’d like” he says quietly, feigning a sulk as you walk side by side. “Guess you don’t want boy germs” his eyebrows raise to emphasise the point. You don’t bother answering, finally comfortable. Twenty minutes go by in silence as you both walk, both of you comfortable, Paul more so as he’s never been a big speaker. He'd be happy if you wanted to fill the silence but you seem content which makes him content. However, he ends up being the first to talk. “I think we’ll have to go single file, it gets steeper.” A fact you already knew, having felt the burn on your thighs on the journey up - at least it would be your calves going down. He takes the lead, giving you help down the particularly bad bits leaving you to wonder how on earth you’d made it up without any incidents. At one point Paul puts his hands on your hips to support you down a slight drop, your hands had been clamped to his shoulder as he lowered you. His pulse was so ferocious you could feel it through your hands. It comforted you endlessly to know he may also be in new territory, so to speak.
“I don’t know if I came this way.” You inform him, glad he was with you as the feeling of being lost hadn’t subsided.
“You didn’t but this way is quicker.”
“And how do you know that?” you question, “Don’t tell me, you’re an expert tracker, and followed what would be a non existent track to the normal human eye” you mock, looking for a reaction.
“Something like that.” is all he gives, so you take a mental note and add that to the list of weird things and questions that need explaining. Sure you hadn’t been successful in finding the animal tracks and had never tried tracking before, but the weather conditions were terrible for it even if you had. So, how had he?
Pulling your phone from your pocket to check the time you see another two hours had passed. Your mother would soon be returning from work and Frank shortly after. “How far away are we?”
“So eager to be rid of my company?” he teases, pulling a pout, mocking the one you had pulled by the river.
“No.” You deliver a shove to his arm, one that catches him off guard. He stumbles once and then shoots you a playful warning look.
“Look who’s grown too big for her boots.” You glance down at your feet and pull a face.
“No, they still fit.” You joke back, earning a chuckle from him. “Guess you’re not used to a girl pushing you around.” You raise your arms in an open invitation. “Guess I’m too strong for you.” You continue teasing as his eyes darken, the animal inside coming alive. You take a few steps back as you feel the tension building. Paul tests the water by putting a foot forward, to which you take several more away. He wants you close and you know it. You can sense the primal side and it elicits something inside you, the desire to run. The prospect of being caught starts to excite you. He can smell it on you, knows your next move is to run, knows he’ll be able to catch you before you know it, but he doesn’t know what direction. It’s driving him crazy, how playful you’re being as he’s trying to contain it and go slow for you. Do you know the effect you have on him?
He says your name softly, as a warning, his eyes pleading with you not to push his limits. There are boundaries that you can’t uncross and he’s not sure you’re ready to see the animalistic side of him that enjoys the thrill of the hunt and wants to possess you. You’ve gone too far and you know it, but you carry on. You turn and run, weaving through the trees before changing direction and running to your left. Zigzagging will keep him at bay longer. Your heart skips a beat at the thought of him away from you, you have to fight the urge to stop and let him catch you. But you do stop and you turn to find him still standing in the same spot, barely holding it together. You feel guilty, knowing you can only be sending mixed signals. After all, you were the one wanting to take things slow and let it take it’s natural course, because you were unsure. You can’t help but feel bad as you ignore that. He’s being good, in case you change your mind, but maybe, just maybe you need to see the real him.
“Guess I’m faster too”You have no filter. What has overcome you to act this way and tease this man, who has been nothing more than accommodating “you’ll never catch me” you provoke. It’s the final straw, Paul gives in to the chase and pursues you at an unnatural speed. You let out a small squeak and start running all over the place, stopping behind a big tree to catch your breath and listen. You hear his pants coming from in front as you poke your head out. He lunges into a sprint to chase you in circles around the tree. “Do I out smart you too?” You call out, taunting him further. Suddenly you crash into him after he changes directions, his arms wrap around you hositing you up into the air. He spins the two of you around before putting you gently back on your feet.
“Apparently not.” He smiles, happy in his catch. You stare up at his face, admiring how stunning he is with the smile lighting up his features. “I got you.” He leans in to whisper, his breath grazing your ear.
“I was close” you whisper back.
“Really?” sarcasm laces his tone as his fingers weave through yours. Your body heats up, not from running but from the look on his face, the one he has quite often when he studies you, especially your lips. Your breath hitches as you free one hand to snake around his neck and pull him closer. His forehead is hot against yours and his breath comes in hot waves as he nudges your nose with his, your lips inches from each other.
“I want to kiss you.” You blurt out, consumed by the moment. He’d waited to hear you say it but hesitates as he mulls over what you said. You want to kiss him. You weren’t asking him to bridge the gap, god knows he’s willing.
Paul swallows and asks in a breathy whisper “So why don’t you?” His free hand pulls you closer at the waist so he can feel your hip bone against his leg. You’d admitted what you wanted to do, the last ten minutes were proof and one hell of a build up to it but you felt nervous. Why didn’t you ask him to? That would have been easier. Because you knew if you did, he still wouldn’t, he wants you to make the first move to ensure it's what you want. Paul wasn’t just the first guy to hold your hand, he’d be your first in everything. It is a massive insecurity of yours, as you feel you have no clue what to do half the time.
Oh god, what if I’m a terrible kisser.
Sensing something was off, he moves his hand to caress your face, pushing back strands of hair. It is comforting but still the nerves run deep. To make things worse, you’re positive you weren’t Paul’s first in anything apart from you do believe you’re the first he’s felt strongly about in a short time frame, which doesn’t count. He’s still experienced.
God I’m in my head too much, how long has it been? He’s waiting. Do something!
“Boy germs.” You hate yourself and instantly regret saying the joke. Thankfully Paul takes it lightly, laughing it off. He can smell the change in your emotions and is comforted by the knowledge that you truly do want him but just need time. He realises, its nerves and quite possibly something new for you. “I’m sorry.” His heart breaks hearing how defeated you sound as your head hits his chest.
“Don’t be.” He strokes your head soothingly. “I should get you back though.” You want to go back to the moment, kiss him and kiss him again. Let him know that you need him like you need oxygen, but it’s gone. He’s already leading you along a trail that you start to recognise as the one Frank took you on, you’re not far from home. You’re not ready to say goodbye yet. “I was calling on you earlier”
“Huh?” Is he a mind reader? “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I came over to see you” he reiterates.
“That’s how you ended up in the forest?” you ask, wondering how he got from a to b.
“Yup.” He glances down at you and gives your hand a squeeze before smiling “There wasn’t an answer when I knocked but the back door was open and I saw your tracks. They looked fresh but not newly fresh and so I wondered if you were okay and…” He gestures to you and kisses your grazed palm. “Anyway, my point is I was looking for you.”
“Why?” Honestly you need to get a filter, or a better grip on the one you usually have. Is it not obvious why? “I mean, was there a reason or…” Is there a reason? Fuck, why am I like this, the reason is you dumbass!
“It’s cute” Paul's tone sounds irritated, the opposite of what his words would suggest.
“What is?” you ask confused.
“How flustered you get and how humble you are.” he points out, making you blush in embarrassment.
“I don’t like to assume-” he stops in his tracks causing you to shut up, you can sense his mood. Is he angry? Or was it disappointment?
“Well start assuming.” he looks sad as he stares into your eyes, “Everything I do is for you.” You’re taken aback and left unsure what to say as he starts his pace back up.
“No one’s ever said that before.” you call from behind him. “I…” You stare into his eyes with a thousand words swimming in your head. “I’ve known you for a day but...:” you search for the next part of the sentence “I’m not the best with er… with emotion or um, with people in general, so I don’t know how to respond. But I’m grateful and to be honest, overwhelmed. Not with that, just everything… I can’t stop thinking about you, all the time, even before yesterday, just from having seen you at the dinner… sounds stupid but…” You breathe shakily as you process the rush of different emotions flooding your system. “I’m awkward and weird, I’m new to this… I have all these thoughts, but don’t know how to act on-”
“What thoughts?” he interrupts your babbling, making you stop to think. Now is your chance to explain yourself, make him understand your situation.
“Well, like back there” you point behind you “I wanted to kiss you but I’m too awkward to just do that, I should have just done it without thinking… I overthink... a lot. It’s an actual problem” you drift off on the last sentence as you see his expression soften. “What?” you question as he walks back to you with a boyish charm. “What if I’m a bad kisser?” you panic ask, as you sense the change in tension for the millionth time today. He chuckles.
“What if you’re not.”
“Be easier if you just kiss me.” you point out as you move into his embrace. You could get used to his arms around your waist. They fit so perfectly like you were made for him.
“Gotta be sure you want these boy germs” he whispers next to your ear as he brings his face to fit into the crook of your neck and inhales deeply. His arms tighten around you so you bring your arms to his shoulders so as not to pin them awkwardly between the two of you.
“Can you stop being a gent?” He shakes his head in answer.
“No, but I can help you out.” His breath hits your neck and sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps appear on your arms at the sensation. His lips touch the sensitive skin of your throat as he gently brushes kisses along your collarbone. It ignites a heat inside your core, something you’ve never felt before and don’t want to end. It’s not enough to bring a moan to your lips but as his face comes to yours you breathe his name aloud. Your hands snake around his neck and into his hair as you brush your lips tantalisingly slow alog his jaw and then to his mouth. Electric shoots from the connection down every nerve in your body. Suddenly you're hungry for him, craving more as your lips press harder against his, moving in synchronization. He strokes hair away from your face as you push up on your toes, urgency in your actions. He breaks away so you can breathe, your blood feels on fire as it pumps around your body. A pulsating hammers in your ears at the rush of blood and the pound of your heart and you suck in deep breaths. He places a chaste kiss on your lips before kissing your forehead, his thumb rubs over your cheek before he kisses both of them too. He takes in your beautiful appearance, from your flushed cheeks and plumped lips to your doe eyes currently staring into his. “Yeah that was terrible.” He teases. You move to take a swipe at him for joking at a time like this but he catches your hand mid air, not once breaking eye contact with you. “I should get you back.”
“You should” you whisper in a barely audible voice
“I don’t want to relinquish you just yet” sadness overwhelms him at the thought of saying goodbye. A sadness you also feel.
Request: Anon requested ‘Nick having a crush on a Shadyside single mom, who has a child who’s a bit of a troublemaker and Nick decides to get the daughter to like him as a somewhat father figure but it backfires completely because she could see that he doesn’t give a shit about her and is only using her to get with her mom, who doesn’t like Nick.’
Word Count: 1.38k
Warnings: Language, violence, angst, no smut, purely non romantic connection between Nick and Reader
A/N: That picture though, I can imagine him saying that to the reader when they're in the cell. If you like Nick Goode, You can check out my series Under Your Skin
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“I thought you said you’d come to me next time,” Nick’s hand shoots to his face to rub his eyes, exasperated with the conversation that’s going in circles. You shoot him a look through the bars of the holding cell in the station. “You were doing better! I thought we were working through it-” You cut him off laughing as you turn your back to him. You hear him sigh and come closer, leaning an arm against the bars. You can’t turn to look back at him, furious over what had come to light. You feel so stupid, of course he wasn’t your friend, you’re a child and he’s... well, he’s the Sheriff of Union. In all honesty, you were beyond troublemaking now, but you felt joy making his life difficult again. God knows you’ll do whatever you can to keep him away from her.
“You betrayed me” you spat, the venomous remark sinking in deep. There’s little in life that Nick cares about, but that hurts. You turn to meet his gaze, your eyes welling with tears in your fury. “You never cared about me-”
“Of course I do. I don’t want to see you in here” He hits the bars with his hands before starting to pace.
“It’s not your job to care.” You cross your arms and just stand there staring into his soul. Your blessing is important to him and this issue causes problems for his plan. “I get it, your job first. Exactly why it wouldn’t work.”
“You don’t know that-”
“She hates you.” There it was, the blow you’d been keeping back because hurting him wasn’t an option before. “When she finds out you’ve been doing all this to get close… to… Well…” You fumble for words, not exactly sure where you’re going with this.
“I don’t want to see her hurt by this, but I’ll have to call her.” He walks off to do just that, leaving you alone to regret what you’d done. Maybe you shouldn’t have set that Sunnyvaler’s gazebo on fire after all. It wasn’t long before you could hear your mother’s voice in the building, she sounds weary and tired.
“What did she do now?” Hopelessness evident in her voice as it wavers while talking.
“She set fire to some old man's gazebo.” Officer Kapinsky’s voice fills her in. Relief floods over you at the thought that Sheriff Goode isn’t with her.
“A Sunnyvaler’s Gazebo” Nick’s voice adds to the conversation which puts a stop to your relief. “I’ll go get her.” With that you hear him come back down the corridor towards the cell. His footfalls stop, alerting you to his presence. “Time to go.” You look up at him as he puts the key in the lock and the click of the mechanism sounds loudly in the quiet chamber and echoes. The barred door swings open but he stops to catch it before you could get out. “Promise me you’re not going to do this again.” He looks at you patronisingly, “Do better with your life.” Anger rises in your chest as you shove against the door which gives way, barging past him.
“You’re not my dad, don’t act like you are!” You shout at him as you storm out, running away from the station and the people inside. Only when a safe distance away, do you let the tears fall. Despite what you’d said, Nick had been there for you when others hadn’t and when you couldn’t go to your mother. He had, despite all the resentment you harbour now, been like a father these past weeks. Those illusions shattered a few hours ago when you’d gone to speak to him at the station and overheard Kapinksy and him talking.
Your feet continue to take you faster and further away until you come to the woods that separate Shadyside from Sunnyvale. You only stop once inside the comfort of the dark forest. Your breath comes in sharp as you suck in the damp air, dark setting in quick around you. With haste you head through the trees as a shortcut home. The sun sets and the woods become darker so you start running again, your chest burning from the prolonged pace. At some point considerably later you emerge from the trees in the usual spot on the Shadyside border and you contemplate going back into the treeline, but it’s too late he’s spotted you. On the road ahead Nick gets out of the police cruiser and leans against the car as he waits. His radio makes noise on his shoulder before he speaks into it. “It’s okay, let her mother know I’ve got her.”
“What do you want?” You call out not getting too close. You watch Nick raise his hands in surrender, a show of peace. Ignoring him, you head for the road further down earning an exasperated sigh from him.
“Get in the car.” He yells over the distance, his tone changing to one unamused and frustrated. To his annoyance you continue on your path of avoiding him. The road is in your sights, just a few meters away but he’s started towards you, his pace that of a man on a mission. You know it’s probably not a good idea to mess with him but the douchebag deserves it. Would he go as far as to shoot you? He wouldn’t seem so perfect if he did. You force your feet to run, the blisters that formed from today protesting in pain. You're across the road and into a field, heading towards a rundown, graffitied play park. The escape is short lived as an iron grip locks around your arm and yanks you backwards. He twists you around so your face is level with his. “Get in the damn car.” He snarls, obviously tired of the scenario. You stomp your foot down on his, to which he swears but his grip on you does not falter. “I fucking hate kids, why do I bother?” He chuckles as you thrash and start to scream.
“Because you want to fuck my Mother!” You yell as you both stop fighting. He stares back at you, working out his next move. “I’m not stupid!” You fill the silence “You’ll use me to fuck her and then run off like every man, I heard you and Kapinsky-” He cuts you off as he grabs you and throws you over his shoulder. You scream and hit his back, trying anything to get a reaction from him, but he’s silent and dead to the world as he carries you back to the car and opens the back door before dropping you sharply to your feet.
“Get in.” His cool gaze bores into you as you stand motionless. His left arm shoots to the side of the car, stopping you from escaping, trapping you between the vehicle and his body. “Get in the car.”
“It won’t work-” He shoves you inside the back seat, trying not to listen to your words as he slams the car door closed. Despite that, he can still hear your shouts “I’ll tell her everything.” Nick lets out a long drawn out breath as he heads to the drivers side, the same thought going over and over in his mind. All he has to do is offer up your name and the problem will go away. No more pretending to like you. It would fit your story, already being troubled and would leave your mother wide open to be comforted in the face of tragedy and grief. He slides into the driver seat and starts the car. After sometime, you wonder where he was taking you as you miss the exit home and then the exit to the station. “Where are you taking me?”
He bites back the guilt building inside him as he hears the panic in your voice, why did you have to be such a problem? His knuckles turn white around the steering wheel and then he looks into the mirror and straight into your eyes for the briefest of seconds. An internal battle rages inside him, one which you can sense in the quietness of the vehicle making your hand reach for the door handle, but it’s locked.
Hii so first of all I really like your writing and now to my question will there ever be a 7th chapter to the Paul Lahote story because damn I’m addicted?!
