Request- Angst where Nick had an affair with a Shadysider, but he broke it off when reader expressed that they wanted to officially be with him, but he was against it because his family wouldn’t approve. Reader moves on, gets married and has kids and maybe Nick misses her but he’s too late and can’t do anything about it. Maybe readers kids get pulled into the whole saving Sam situation and the two reunite at the mall.
You were the last person Nick Goode ever expected to see standing in front of him as he entered the Shadyside Mall.
He knew your daughter had been involved in the events of the past few days. He’d interviewed her after the grocery store incident and had hoped that maybe you’d be the one to pick her up from the station. But instead it was your husband who came while Nick knew you were home with your young son.
Now you were standing in front of him for the first time in years and he couldn’t help but remember that young nineteen year old girl he’d once fallen in love with.
“I wish it could be like this all the time,” You sighed, looking up at the stars as Nick sat next to you.
“Me too,” He agreed.
You turned to look at him, “So why can’t it be? Why can’t we be together? I mean really together.”
“You know why.”
“Because of your parents? Who cares what they say. I want to be able to go for walks in the daylight or have picnics in the park. I want to be able to hold your hand in public where anyone can see. I want to go to the diner and share a milkshake with two straws like they do in the movies. I want to be with you Nick. For real.” You pleaded.
He yanked his hand away from yours and stood up, “It can’t be that way. It never can. Look you don’t understand. I have a reputation to withhold and- and being with a Shadysider just doesn’t fit in the picture.”
You stood up as well, “And what does that mean? You can’t be with me because of where I come from? If you knew that the whole time then what was the point of this?! What was the point of stringing me along all this time?!” You were yelling now but you didn’t care. How dare he make you fall in love with him when he knew the whole time how it would end.
“I don’t know!” He yelled back frustratedly, “But it was a mistake. I never should’ve let it get this far.”
“So that’s it? It’s over?” You asked softly, “We just go back to acting like we don’t know each other?”
His heart broke seeing you standing there with tears in your eyes but he couldn’t go back now. His parents would never approve of him being with you. Shadysiders were nothing but scum in their eyes.
Not only that but you were so innocent and pure. There was no way he would be able keep up with his family “tradition” and still wake up to your beautiful face in the morning, beaming at him as if he was the most amazing person you’ve ever known. And he sure as hell knew that he would never be able to have a son with you, knowing he’d have to pass on that burden some day.
Nick Goode loved you too much. He loved you too much to let you in. And so he had to let you go.
“Yes. I never should’ve gotten involved with you in the first place.” He turned and left, not allowing himself to look back for fear that if he saw the tears running down your face he’d break.
You never saw him after that night. A few months later you’d met a nice man at your waitressing job and a few years later the two of you were married. Soon after you welcomed your daughter and later on a son. You were content with your loving husband and children. Nick Goode was nothing more then a thing of the past in your eyes.
For Nick, however, you were always on his mind. You’d never seen all the times he would drive past your house. The times where you’d be in your backyard laughing and messing around affectionately with your husband as your children played. The times you taught your daughter to walk right on the sidewalk outside. The times you would be sitting on your front porch reading a children’s book to your son as your daughter rode her bike up and down the sidewalk and your husband worked on your car in the driveway.
Seeing you like that was both reassuring and painful for Nick. He loved seeing you happy but he hated that it wasn’t with him. He hated that it wasn’t him you goofed around with in your backyard. He hated that the kids you loved so much weren’t his.
Nick never really moved on from you. He’d tried to so many times but he couldn’t escape you.
Now, as you stood in front of him in that mall, he would give anything to see you smile at him again. To see that loving look at he’d seen you give your husband so many times, the same look you used to give him.
But you didn’t. You looked up at him with pure hatred. It was a look he’d never seen on you, a look he’d never hoped to see on you. Especially when it was directed at him. He felt like he could drop dead just from that look.
But he should’ve known. He’d messed with your daughter and that was unforgivable.
And now it was too late. You were there and you knew. You knew what he’d done. He couldn’t let you leave that mall alive.
At least he wouldn’t have to fake the emotion when reporting your death to the reporters.
Summary: Tommy helps you hide from a Sunnyvaler in the woods during colour war, tensions are high
Words: 1K
Warnings: heated make-out, fluff (let me know if there is any others)
Currently you were what felt like running for your life through the woods of camp night wing. At the moment, everyone was playing a nice ‘friendly’ game of capture the flag or what they liked to call it “colour war”, Sunnyvalers V Shadysiders of course.
Leaping over logs, roots and bushes, you swerved your body through the trees trying your very hardest to lose the Sunnyvaler chasing you. You almost trip as you catch your foot on a loose rock in the ground, but narrowly catch yourself on a nearby branch. There was no way in god's name that you were gonna let a Sunnyvaler catch you. Let alone in a stupid game of fucking colour war. Your dignity just would not take it.
But before you could think any further you felt the firm grip of someone’s fist pulling behind a nearby tree. You were about to scream but another hand covered your mouth. “Shhh, it’s me, Tommy.”
You mentally sigh with relief glad to know it was a fellow Shadysider. You began to speak “Tha- '' But Tommy hushed you again with a finger over his lips as the Sunnyvaler who was previously perusing you neared. The Sunnyvalers torch shone through the trees, slowly passing the one you and Tommy hid behind.
Your eyes locked with Tommy’s as you both finally released the breath you were holding. You looked down realising Tommy still kept his tight grip on your shoulder, holding both your bodies closely together. “I was going to say thank you.” You whispered to him, his breathe grazing across your cheek.
“No problem. Shadysiders help Shadysiders. If we didn’t look out for eachover there would be nobody else to.” He speaks quietly with the most sincere look in his eyes.
“Well said, you could be like um, a philosopher!” You giggle, your head slightly leaning you head against his shoulder.
“God I know I’m pretty wise but I wouldn’t go that far.” He says sarcastically rolling his eyes.
Finally, as though reality finally hit him, he released his hold on your shoulder, threading his fingers through his hair, redirecting his eyes at the ground. You both now stood a good two foot away from each other, as the tention rose, so thick you could almost taste it.
“So um..” He began, breaking the tension. “I guess we should head back to camp, I was surprised to see anyone this deep into the woods, let alone you.”
“What is that supposed to mean!?” You gasp acting defensive, giving him the best shocked face you could make.
He laughs as your hands brush against eachother for a brief moment. “What I mean is, I thought you’d be too good for this kind of thing, y’know?”
“Hey, it’s not like I was planning on this! I was on my way to my cabin and this fucking phsyco Sunnyvaler started sprinting at me, even following me through the fucking woods!”
“Anyways, are you not, hmm?” You raise your eyebrow at him laughing.
“Well I’m kinda obligated, being a councillor and all.” He laughs flicking his hair back, out of his eyes.
“Wait-wait, how come your a councillor?” You ask.
“Why wouldn’t I, have you even seen the benefits!? I literally get my very own cabin!”
“Shit! Somebody should’ve told me about this sooner!” You both laugh as you roll your eyes jokingly.
Your both trudging through the woods as branches continue to snag at the hem of your shirt every five seconds. “Shit, how dense are these fucking w-“
Woods, is what you were gonna say before your foot hooked on a protruding tree root that emerged from the soil. You braised yourself for impact, throwing your arms in front of your face and squeezing your eyes closed tightly but before you could head plant into the shrubbery the same pair of familiar arms wrapped around your waist tightly.
“Don’t fall.” Tommy smirked.
“Oh shut up!” You jokingly smacked him on the arm as you regained your balance.
“Hey! You can’t say that, if it weren’t for me you’d be in the arms of that phyco Sunnyvayler.. In-instead of…” He paused for a moment, looking deep in though as what to say next. “Instead of mine.”
“Wow you must be my knight in shining armour..” you say jokingly, but not quite convincing yourself.
Suddenly, without warning, Tommy stops his movement. Confused you stop, looking behind you. Your eyes lock, transfixed on one eachothers. You step closer, narrowing the space between the two of you. He lifts his hand, hovering against the side of your face. “Hey don’t..don’t take this weirdly or anything but um…” he steps closer “can I kiss you?”
Before you can answer his question, you lean in, breaking any remaining distance, bringing your lips together. Instantly transfixed, he hangs his arms around your waist as you place yours around his neck. The kiss intensifies as his arms travel up, now clasping tightly around your waist causing both your bodies to colide and your leg to slot between his.
The make out halts only for the both of you to catch your breathe and for Tommy to groan “Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
As his kisses slowly, trailing from you mouth, down to your neck, and then to your collarbone, you manage to make out “guess you’ve, ah, been quite fixated on me for a while now..” between the small noises you were making. He leans into your ear with a deap and raspy voice that was probably due to your intense make out session
“Don’t act like you haven’t been looking at me the exact way I do.”
He wasn’t lying. Ever since you arrived at camp Nightwing Tommy definitely stuck out to you. Not only was he tall, confident and so fucking handsome but the way he talked about people. He was funny, kind and so, so good. He was perfect.
Everything felt right, his hands on your waist, his lips on your neck and the look in his eyes.
⎔ 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 →
---
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.
