What happens when Anastasia Steele meets the dark and mysterious Paul Spector?(Jamie Dornan plays him in the show 'The Fall')
Disclaimer: I do not own FSOG or 'The Fall'
Author's note: For those of you who don't know about the Television show 'The Fall' it is about a serial killer named Paul Spector (Who is portrayed by Jamie Dornan aka Christian Grey as well). He goes and murders young brunette women (Much like Christian Grey who likes to spank brunettes). In my opinion these two characters are very similar. I'm also going to incorporate a little bit of Christian Grey too.
(And also note that he doesn't murder women in my story)
-IFY-
As I wait at the train stop the wind blows softly on my face. Ireland.
It was a beautiful, woodland, rural country full of rich history and beautiful landscape. That's what brought me here, to write my very first book. Kate was thinking that after Graduation we would live in an apartment together and be two independent women who could survive on their own without the likes of men. But deep down inside I knew that Kate would eventually want a boyfriend. So, I told her that I wanted to write in Ireland; we parted our ways.
The familiar horn of the train was coming and everyone started to stand up to board in. I shut my notebook and gave the person my ticket. I scan the rows for somewhere to sit but all of them seemed to be full. Aha! Finally somewhere to sit down. I slide into the seat only to be greeted by a man's face. I think I almost had a heart attack. His face was strikingly handsome with sharp features and soft unruly brown hair, and fairly pale skin. I sat there shocked into silence.
"I- I'm sorry, I thought this seat was free." I stammered.
"It was, I don't mind" He says with his delicious Irish accent. I melted inside.
He smiled and took out his computer to what seemed like a backpack. He was obviously done with me. I had the urge to talk more to him, but I was afraid he didn't want to. So I just flipped to the bookmarked page in my journal and started to write.
After a while I started to get so caught up in writing that I didn't even see him glance down at my journal. I look up curiously, and he looks like he's calculating something.
"You're writing a story?"
"Um, yes. That's why I came here to Ireland" I explain.
"Wouldn't it be easier to just type?" The handsome man questioned.
"I find it easier to my thoughts down on paper" Now, he was just staring at me again. I shrank down in my seat to hide my face, the air just became a tad more awkward. "So, what's your name?" I ask in hope.
"Paul" He responds looking straight into my soul.
"Just, Paul?"
He chuckles, and added "Spector" Well, that was perfect for him. Dark, mysterious… Gorgeous.
"Anastasia Steele"
"That's a beautiful name" He commented. I blush and feel a deep arousal inside of me. God, why can't he just be mine? "So where's your boyfriend? Isn't he traveling with you?"
Wow, was he always this brazen with people? "No, just me," I continue on "So where are you heading to? I'm going to Belfast."
"Same place where you're going, I actually live there" I find this day to become more and more perfect by the minute. I was secretly thrilled that he was going to be there.
"When did you decide to become a writer?"
"Well, right after college. which was a year ago. I'm 23"
"Did you go to WSU?"
"Yes, how did you know?" I was a little freaked out.
"It said it on the cover of your journal." Wow, I've never felt more stupid in my whole entire life.
"I've talked about myself this whole train ride, what about you, what's your story?"
"Too long to explain"
"I've got time" I just pressed for more.
"Well, I was born here. In Ireland. I don't have a wife, or any children."
"Oh?"
"And I'm 32" Paul added
"What's your job- err- profession?"
"I'm afraid I can't disclose any information to you… Anastasia." He said in his beautiful accent, I drank it all in. "Our stop is here" He says dismissively. I sigh and get up to exit the train.
Paul's POV
It gather all of my things and shove them in to my backpack. Cable ties, rope, duct tape, flashlight, lock pick, camera, and my computer.
The perfect stalker.
I took out my laptop and started to research some local brunettes in the area. Search results came up and I inspected each one of them. Too large, too skinny, too short, too tall. I was very picky about my victims. The train suddenly came to a screeching halt and I was thrown forward a bit. I put away my laptop and viewed each passenger.
Then she was here. A woman boarded onto the train and she was beautiful, slim, and pale. Her porcelain skin was unblemished, dark brown hair, and ice blue eyes that seemed to captivate you. She was scanning the rows up and down, frowning each time when there was a taken spot. Sit near me I chanted in my head. Then, as if God listened, she slid into the seat. She looked up, startled.
I wanted to smile My little lamb my next victim. But, there was something about her, something I couldn't quite place my finger on I'd like to place my finger on you I thought. She apologized for thinking that this seat was free.
The rest of the ride we conversed and she was just so beautiful. So innocent, it was so hard not to just reach over and caress her cheek. I took a glance at her journal peeking out of her bag, Anastasia Steele Washington State University. I slipped out of my computer and quickly typed in her name, a bunch of random women came up and then I narrowed down the search to WSU. Then google images showed me a few photos of her on Facebook and a photo of her recieving her diploma. As I scrolled through her profile and a few websites I easily found out more than she would ever tell me about herself in just a span of a few minutes.
So, she was a writer. Majored in English Lit and was currently single.
Perfect.
As the train ride went on she probed for more questions and I gave her what she wanted, hell, I'd give her anything. One thing she never asked me is if I was married. Yes I was, to Sally Ann. I didn't feel anything for her, there was no passion, and she was older than me by two years. She was also a blonde, that made her unappealing to me, and my children, weren't even mine. But, I still loved them, just not her.
Minute by minute I became more enthralled with Anastasia. I just wanted to bite that place where her neck and shoulder met. I didn't just feel the need to put her in my collection, but to have her body and mind. Her shell pink lips as well, every time she bit it in concentration I just wanted to spread her across the table a take her, hard.
Then, all too soon, we were at Belfast.
-I'll follow you-
Ana POV
I step off the train and onto the platform. Paul is behind me and he looks distraught. I study his facial emotions and he suddenly yanks off his jacket.
"What are you doing?" I ask in a worried tone.
"Well, you don't have a jacket. It's gets chilly in Belfast." Paul responds. I look at him with a surprised expression and I shake my head.
"Honestly Paul, I'm fine" I try to decline. Instead he just takes my arms and shrugs me into his jacket, it's oversized and warm. I press my nose to the inside of his jacket and inhale his foresty cinnamon scent.
"So, where are you staying?" He inquired.
"Just a few blocks from here" I answer hesitantly.
"I'll walk you" Paul suggested.
"No, no, no, I'll be fine. I can walk myself"
"Anastasia you know I'll need my jacket back" I think I might slap myself for being so stupid today.
"Oh yes! I'm sorry" I quickly apologized. He chuckles and we walk in silence. Every few minutes he'd glance at me to my expression, and I would just blush, it was clock work.
"Well, this is my place" I say softly. He looks disappointed and I feel guilty. But I quickly cover it up.
"So, how far are you from here?" I grilled.
"About two blocks, not very far"
"Then I'll see you around town?" I ask hopefully.
"I suppose so" He smirks. With a simple wave we bid our goodbyes. I open up the rusty wrought iron gate. I walk up the stone path way and unlock the door. I turn back and Paul is walking down the sidewalk.
I shut the door and lock it up. I drop my bag on the ground and hang my coat in the closet. I go in the kitchen to fix myself up something warm to eat, I was slightly famished. I sat myself down at the table to eat some soup, but I didn't have an appetite right now, I was too busy thinking about Paul. So I just put some plastic wrap on the soup and placed it back in the fridge. I've never liked anyone like this before, so what was so different about him?
So I go back to my small foyer and gather up all of my writing materials. I sit down on my bed and bite my lip trying to find out what to write. Suddenly, a thought sparks up in my mind. I grab my journal and flip to the page I left off on.
March 17th, 2014
Today on the train to Belfast I met a mysterious, dark, handsome, introverted man. We talked for a bit and his name was Paul, Paul Spector. And strangely, that was a perfect surname for such a man.
I want to add a character like him in my story, but I don't know now. I wanted him to be perfectly engraved in my mind, but at the same time, I want to keep him a secret, all for myself. I feel so conflicted right now, I don't know about him, but I feel a connection to him. As cliche as it sounded, it felt true. My mind keeps telling me constantly 'You hardly know him!'
He kept on probing for questions, but I enjoyed talking to him. He was polite, kind, and perfect to me all-around. I know this isn't right for me to say, but I want him to be mine. I want to spend time with him and know more about him too. He was someone worth knowing, I can just tell.
He could harbor some secrets, but we could get through that together. God, I'm thinking twenty steps ahead! Maybe, or maybe not, I might add him to my book. Even though we'd never be anything more than strangers, it felt good to talk to him. For at least a moment.
I don't know why I'm getting so caught up about him. I should to talk to him about Kate.
I shut my journal and leaned back onto my pillows, it felt satisfying to finally write my thoughts down. I rest my head on my pillow and fall into a deep sleep.
-IFY-
Paul POV
I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. My hands are clasped together as I think about Anastasia. When I gave her my jacket I took her arms. I just wanted to tie her up to my bed and have my wicked way with her, but, I didn't feel like I wanted to add her to my secret collection anymore, I didn't have that urge… Like it completely vanished. I felt like I was waging a war against.
I memorized the directions to her home, I almost wanted to go there and knock on her door. But, I didn't, if I did, I knew that I couldn't stay away anymore. So I closed my eyes and imagined her in my head.
I tied Anastasia to the frame of my bed. I lift up her shirt and fold it upwards so that they were covering her eyes as a blind fold. Then I tug off her pants, she moans. I'd like to elicit more of those from her. I slowly trail tongue up her body, then I rest my face between her legs.
"Good girl" I murmur. She groans and thrashes in response. I smile against her lips, but not those kind of lips…
I pick up my head to see her facial expression and she's biting her pink lips with sweat rolling down her.
"You're mine" I say with vigor.
I then come spontaneously in my hand and I lay my head on my pillow again. I then go into the bathroom to wash up. I turn the water so that it's freezing cold and I go under the soothing stream. I imagine taking Anastasia in my shower, or maybe on my rug in front of the fireplace? I abruptly think of all the various places where we could fuck.
I shut off the shower and lean my head against the tiles. Water dripping down to my chin. I dry myself off and wrap a towel around my waist. I look in the mirror. Who was I? All I saw in the mirror was a man who secretly took pictures of brunette women for his own relief. Anastasia would never want me. I was psycho, and I knew that.
I crawl into bed naked and my cock awakened by that captivating woman. I toss and turned all night until I was becoming restless. I tore off the sheets breathing heavily. I don't care how late it is, I needed to go see her.
I leave my bed in a messy state and I pack everything I'll need. My backpack. I slip on a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt with some sneakers, so that I could make a quick trip to her house. I bound down the stairs skipping the last step and swiftly unlocking the door. I step out into the cold night, seeing my breath. I sprint towards her house and I'm there in a matter of minutes.
With deep exaggerated breaths I walk to her door. I contemplate whether I should just leave and never come back, or knock on her door to see her. My inner battle is raging and I almost can't come up with anything. So I knock.
"Coming!" A muffled voice says through the door, it's Anastasia. I hear her coming down the stairs and she swung open the door. I almost came right there. She was wearing a long sleeve tee-shirt that said Washington State University and a pair of shorts.
"Paul?" She questioned. I stay silent for a moment and I can feel her distress, she looks worried.
"Can I come in Anastasia?" I ask in hope that she'll let me in.
"Yes, of course. Come in, come in" She just beckoned me. As I enter her home she slams the door and bolts it shut. I observe her home, very calm and serene, without popping bright colors that hurt your eyes.
"Is something wrong? What happened?"
"I- I just needed to see you" She doesn't answer and is completely quiet. Please say something, anything I plead mentally.
"Oh, do you want something to eat?" That's all she said?
"No, I haven't been able to get you out of my my mind… I'm incapable of leaving you alone." She sucks in a breath and breathes out slowly. Anastasia stares up at me with those icy blue eyes, so innocent, so naive.
"I've been having the same thoughts too" She says quietly. I felt relieved that the feeling is mutual.
I take my hands and hold her face in between them.
"Is this alright?" I requested in a whisper.
"Yes"
Then, hesitantly I press my lips to Anastasia's. Her lips are soft and warm, I then swipe her bottom lip with my tongue and she moans, just like she did in my fantasy. She opens her mouth and I plunge my tongue in, exploring her mouth. Her mouth is sweet and it tastes like strawberries.
She rests her hands on my neck and I rest mine on her arse. I feel her shrug off my sweater and I pull it off on her request. Second by second we take off articles of our clothing until we are finally naked. I feel her soft, smooth, and warm body against me, just like her lips. I carry her upstairs while she kisses my necks and softly nibbles, I was surprised I didn't drop us and fall down the stairs.
I was slightly confused on where to turn, where was her bedroom?
And as if she read my mind she answered in a breathy voice "First door on the right"
I turn into the bedroom and I drop her onto the bed with a flop. She leaned to sit up, but I quickly pushed her back down. I kneaded her breast in my palm and she cries out in pleasure.
I slide down her body until I reach her sweet spot. I smash my lips against her clit and she tugs at my hair. I travel back up her body with my tongue. I kiss her on the lips and I invade her mouth, inspecting every inch of her.
I grab both of her wrists and hold them above her head.
"Hold the bed" I demand softly. She listens and did what she was told.
I enter her quickly and she moans, which spurred me on. I pound her hard and fast. I feel her tighten around me and then burst around me. I still thrust in and out until I feel myself come right behind her.
"I'm clean." I say breathlessly.
"Same. I'm on pill" She responds in an equally over exaggerated tone, if not more.
"Anastasia. I'm going to take you from behind now"
"Okay"
I flip her over and she gasps. I smack her ass lightly.
"Brace yourself" I warn.
Then, all in one moment I plunge into her depths and she groans. I pound and thrust into her repeatedly earning an 'uh' on each one.
I pull out and sink into the mattress. Anastasia is still stuck in the same position and she's quivering from the aftermath of our sex.
"Are you okay?" I ask in a overly concerned tone.
"I'm better than okay"
"I'm glad" I say thoughtfully. I pull her to me so that we're flush against each other, spooning. I kiss her on her forehead and she hums in satisfaction.
"We only met today." She mentions.
"Wrong, it's 3:46 am. We met only yesterday" She chuckles and turns her head to kiss me.
"This was really cliche Paul" She giggles. "Can I touch you?"
"Not now, can we just lay here and sleep for now?" I didn't have the time and energy to explain my fucked up past.
"Okay…" She sounded disappointed.
I doze of with Anastasia in my arms and it's the best sleep I've gotten in years.
Ana POV
I wake up around four and Paul is sleeping soundly next to me. I turn around to study his face. He looks so young and cute. He pulls me tighter into the sheets and buries his face in my neck. I then gently pick up his heavy muscular arm and crawl out of bed. I stand up naked and cold, I tip-toe downstairs to get a glass of water, I was parched.
As I climb down the steps I see that Paul's backpack is leaning up against the wall. Me, being the curious person I was, decided to survey his belongings. I knew it wasn't right to look at his things, but I didn't exactly know him. When I open it up it reveals a camera, computer, rope, duct tape, and cable ties. Is he a hiker or a camper, or maybe a survivalist? Ideas run through my mind.
I take his camera in my shaky hands trying to be cautious about not dropping it and smashing it into pieces. I go into my little eating area and seat myself down on the cold wooden chair. I turn it on, Paul seemed like a artistic guy, maybe this camera would show me some of his ability. I turn it on and look at the first photo, one of the recents.
It's a picture of him and he's taking a photo in the mirror. It looked like he was in a bathroom. His expression looked angered, with his eyebrows arched in a mad way, more like he was concentrating really hard. Strange.
I scroll through each picture then I see a picture of a woman, it's a close up and it looked like she was sleeping. This was strange. As I flip through the photos it's all the same, all the women he took pictures of, looked like me. Pale and dark haired. I felt myself getting more and more scared by the second. Then I hear Paul coming the stairs.
"Anastasia!" He calls out, it sounds like a warning. I see my coat on the table and rush to it, like it was a parent with open arms. I tug it on and grab the camera. I shove it in my pocket and exit through the back door slamming it. I run onto the dry, cold, grass and across the large backyard. I swoop and dive into the small thicket of trees and bushes. My hair gets tangled in the twigs and my coat rips slightly.
"Anastasia! Come here" He says in a menacing tone, it sounds so cold. I hear him approach closer and closer and I try to move in a lithe fashion, but fail to do so. I get dirt on my knees and my face just trying to escape him. I feel the dirt under my fingernails as I crawl away from this stalker, I didn't even know him anymore. I didn't even know to begin with. I felt so stupid, I fell for a such a perfect, polite, handsome, man. But, that didn't matter. All that mattered was if I got away from him.
I regretted everything, I should've stayed in Seattle with Kate, where I'd be safe. I reached the end of the thicket and tucked myself away in the corner.
I still heard him. There was a rustle of the bushes and I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to prevent the noise of me screaming/crying.
Then, he was there. Paul standing above me, I think I was going to faint in shock.
"Please, get away…" I plead with my weak voice.
"Anastasia, I love you"
"NO. You're a psycho! You wanted to add me to your little collection didn't you? That's fucking sick"
"No, it wasn't like that, believe me, please"
He goes to pick me up, but I knew I had to put up a fight. I kicked and thrashed in his arms but he does nothing, he just walks me back to my house.
"Anastasia, behave" He orders. I felt intimidated, so I did what I was told and hung limp in his arms. He opens up the french doors and we step in. Paul flicks on the lights and carries me upstairs.
I just close my eyes, I wanted to pretend that none of this happened, and Paul Spector wasn't a stalker. We enter the bathroom and gets the bath ready, it's hot and warm in there.
"Can you open the window?" I request. He listens and opens it up to let the air of the cool night in, it feels refreshing. I watch him as he moves around the bathroom to prepare my bath. He adds soap to the water to make bubbly and gets out a towel from the linen closet.
Paul carries me again bridal style and sets me gently into the bath. I touch the hot water against my skin and it feels heavenly. He then grabs a wash cloth and soaks it. Paul lightly rubs my body with the cloth and washes my hair.
"Why? Why do you do this?"
"My mother, she was a crack-whore. And her little husband. They beat me, and punished me, expecting me to do whatever they needed me to do. They told me I wasn't good enough, that I failed at everything I did. That put on some much tension, and stress. I wanted it to all end. I managed to barely escape them. I saw brunettes walking on the street, they reminded me so much of my mother. I took photos of them sleeping because it looked like they were dead, like I wanted my mother to be. I found relief in doing this too. When you asked if I was married… Yes, I was. I divorced her though, she was blonde. I had children too, but they weren't even mine. I had rough start in life Anastasia, you should've steered clear of me." I was shocked at his revelation. I just sat there not saying a word. "Please. Just say something. I know you see me differently now"
What he thought wasn't true. What I saw was a broken little boy inside, beaten and tortured to the point of insanity. I reach up and stroke his cheek. I looked deep into his eyes and kiss him on the lips. Even through the rough exterior of him I can feel warmth radiating through him.
The kiss deepens, but he pulls away. I felt like I lost something.
"Anastasia, you just found out I was a stalker, aren't you afraid?"
"I am, but I can try to get past that. I want you to eliminate all of your stuff."
"Of course, anything for you"
I smile, but deep down inside I was still disturbed, I couldn't past the fact that he had done those things. He never hurt anyone, but I still was creeped out a bit.
That day, Paul dresses me in new, clean, clothes and tucks me in bed. I observe him as he holds me in his arms.
"Why won't you let me touch you?" I ask curiously. He stares out into space and then lets out a heavy sigh.
"When people hold me, it reminds me of my mother beating me." I was shocked that he even confessed that to me, if anything like that ever happened to me, I'd be silent for the rest of my life.
"Well, I'm here" I murmur softly in his ear.
"I know Anastasia, I know."