#sheriff hassan x y/n

[blueberry-fiction]

Picture Perfect

Sheriff Hassan x fem!reader

Waves lapped loudly at the edge of Garry Point Park Beach and, in the same fashion, retreated back into the ocean whence they’d come, leaving behind a thick coat of sticky foam spat up from the darkened, choppy water that was only now coming into view on the horizon. Some mornings, when the wind blew in just the right direction, the smell of sizzling bacon and fresh brewed coffee would drift down to the shore from the diner a few blocks over and mingle deliciously with the salty ocean air, blanketing the scene in the warm aroma. This morning was not one of those mornings. No, today the chilly autumn air was thin, crisp, and carried with it the threat of a storm that was scheduled to hit Crockett Island in just two days' time.

The alarm on Y/n's wristwatch chirped twice to signal the time, but she looked down to confirm anyways out of habit. 6:28 AM. Perfect. Not even a moment later, as if summoned by the chirping of her alarm, thin wisps of golden sunlight began to creep out from their slumber and peek out over the wave caps on the horizon. Bright streams of yellow and orange danced across the dark, watery landscape and gleamed brightly into Y/n's eyes from where she watched on the shoreline, her worn leather boots settling a little further into the damp sand beneath her.

Transfixed completely by the technicolor display jumping to life before her, she’d all but forgotten all about the camera dangling from around her neck and her entire purpose for being at the beach this early on a Saturday. As quickly as she could, Y/n carefully removed the old camera from its weathered pouch, slid the lens cover aside, and found her frame. “Now if I could just focus the damned thing...” she mumbled quietly under her breath.

Y/n considered herself a semi-professional photographer, but this particular camera was new to her. Until very recently it had belonged to her mom and, much to her frustration, it had an extremely sensitive focusing ring. Unlike Y/n, her mom had been a fully professional photographer, teaching herself almost all of what she knew about the art from this very spot on Garry Point Park Beach. Also unlike Y/n, her mom had been one of the few life-long islanders that the shopkeepers in the center of town liked to remember so fondly whenever Y/n stopped for a few groceries or to fill up her gas tank- A couple even went so far as to hang a portrait of her mom up on their walls after the funeral. Most importantly to Y/n though, her mom had been a loving role model and an incredible mentor. Her old camera, on the other hand, was not so loving.

To familiarize herself with it, Y/n made a habit of waking up early to snap a few pictures of the sunrise from a sleepy cove at the southern end of the beach near her mom's, er-her's now, house. She'd found a photo of the cove in the house on her very first day here and scouted it out the next morning, camera in hand, attempting to capture as many shots as possible while simultaneously avoiding any potential onlookers that may distract her from her learning process. Lately though, Y/n's artistic progress seemed to have plateaued thanks to her especially sensitive camera and, even worse, four days ago she realized she'd been noticed by someone.

In his defense, Hassan was one of the least threatening island residents who could have witnessed Y/n’s new early morning routine, but even from a distance he could sense that she didn't welcome his presence there by the way she positioned herself just outside his line of vision now.

Four mornings ago, when Hassan had been running a few minutes ahead of his typical schedule and, by chance, caught a glimpse of her making her way toward the mouth of the cove through the hazy morning light, she'd looked up toward the road in time to notice him there, leaning comfortably against the side of his car, and stopped dead in her tracks. Hassan's usually stern face had broken into a small smile and he'd lifted his hand to offer up a friendly half-wave as a sign that he meant no harm, a gesture Y/n hadn't returned.

Instead, he'd noticed the way her body went completely rigid when his eyes lingered curiously on her shadowy figure in the moments that followed. His smile faded, lips settling into a hard line. "She must have known she wasn't the only person out here" he'd thought then.

Had she not realized that this too had been his morning ritual? Albeit, not to fiddle around with a camera, but just to carve out a few solitary moments of tranquility from his day before hurling himself back into playing Sheriff on Crockett Island. And now here she was on a Saturday, too?

Hassan shoved his hands deep into the front pockets of his blue jeans and, looking down, clumsily kicked at a pebble on the side of the road where he’d parked his car only a half hour earlier to watch the sunrise himself. If anything, he thought, he should be the one annoyed with her, not the other way around. After all, he had been visiting this shoreline most mornings for the last two years since becoming the town's new Sheriff, whereas Y/n had just moved onto Crockett Island three weeks ago. He should be annoyed by her sense of entitlement, he thought.

Curiously though, he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but quiet fascination at the sight of the new photographer in the morning's dim yellow light as she slowly climbed the grassy path that led toward the road where he stood leaning against his car, a smile gently tugging at the corners of his mouth.

X

[fortheloveoffanfic]

An Indecent Affair: The First Encounter

Sheriff Hassan x reader

Summary: On a rainy night after a town meeting at the school, the island's sheriff and English teacher act on mutual feelings.

Author's note: Look at me, back with a terrible title.

Warning: SMUT/NSFW, unprotected sex, a smidge of dom/sub dynamics, itty bitty bit of breeding kink.

Hassan chose Crockett because it's quiet; a sleepy little island four hours off the coast of the mainland, where the most serious crime was disorderly conduct by the town drunk. After his lengthy stint at NYPD came to a messy end and his wife's passing, it seemed like the perfect place to start afresh. He could reconnect with Ali and hopefully not face the same discrimination that he had in New York.

Of course, it only took a few months for Hassan to determine that he was wrong about both of those things. Ali is still upset about his life being uprooted and the people of Crockett have been less than welcoming.

Well, most of them.

He's managed to make one friend – sort of. Hassan doesn't actually know if Y/n would call herself his friend, but she's the closest thing he has to one.

She's also his son's English teacher, which is probably why she tries to make small talk when they bump into each other around town or waves at him when she passes him while he's making his morning rounds and she's jogging.

Jogging in a pair of tiny shorts and a tank top that usually seems a little too tight on her breasts, from her arsenal of skimpy workout clothes. Those moments usually make him extra grateful for the lessons of undercover work; being able to hide her effect on him with stoicism has been more of a blessing than he'd ever imagined it could be.

Because he sees the most exciting part of that boring little island when he's doing foot patrol at seven am.

If only Y/n knew what goes on in his head when he gets to his office with the image of her like that fresh in his mind. The light sheen of exertion making her skin shine, those tiny shorts hugging her ass while the top of breasts remain visible. She'd probably slap him in the face and call him a pervert – sometimes, Hassan wants to do it to himself.

But most times, he wants to bend her over his desk and –

“God,” he hears her huff as she stops to stand beside him just as after they've stepped out of the school, “It looks like it's gonna rain.”

Turning to look at her, Hassan furrows his brows. He heard what she said, but it takes another handful of seconds for him to process her words. Because of course his mind had been run amuck with lewd thoughts when it was her turn to speak at the meeting. She'd been saying something about wanting to encourage the children to read more by starting a book club, but she was saying it while dressed in tight, light wash jeans and a green, knitted sweater that doesn't make any effort to hide her curves.

“Oh,” he glances up at the grayish, milky sky, “yeah.” He wants to say more, but nothing else comes out.

“Figures tonight's the night I decided to walk.” And then, as if on cue, a drizzle starts up, “Great, great,” Y/n hastily adds.

“I can give you a ride,” Hassan hastily offers, the words leaving his mouth before he can fully think them through.

Caught off guard by his offer, Y/n stutters, “Uh…you don't have you – I wouldn't want to put you out –”

“You wouldn't be,” he threads his fingers through his beard and adds, “just…..doin’ my duty.”

Y/n huffs a quiet chuckle, just as the drizzle grows a little heavier. Thankfully, they're both still standing on the school’s front steps, where the roof extends far enough for them to stay covered. “The sheriff doubles as a taxi service?”

Cocking his lips into a half smirk, “protect and serve.”

Licking her lips, Y/n shakes her head. “Protect me from a head cold?” She giggles and his heart leaps a little. Though it isn't really the sound that rouses that effect, even if she does have quite a melodic laugh, its more knowing that she's laughing because of him.

“Pretty serious crime in my book,” he determines softly. She turns just in time for their eyes to meet; Y/n's laughter settles with a gentle hum and her smile softens. There's a glimmer in them that he doesn't think he's ever noticed before and it takes the sudden sound of thunder, like a whip cracking before a microphone, to snap them out of their little moment.

Shaking his head a little, Hassan swallows thickly and lifts his denim jacket over his head, leaving some room for Y/n to duck under it as well. “Shall we?”

“Yeah.” He thinks that's what she says, but it doesn't matter anyway because her stepping under the cover of his coat is enough of a response. That's probably the closest they've ever been, and it takes that proximity for him to realize that she's at least a foot shorter than him – which does nothing but fuel his dirty thoughts.

It would be so easy for him to back her up against a wall. Box her in, lift her off the floor and –

“It's locked.”

“What?” Despite his jacket over their heads, they're drenched by the time they get to his car.

“The door,” she grins, pulling on the handle for emphasis, “still locked.”

“Oh, shit. Yeah,” Hassan scoffs, using his free hand to rummage through the pockets of his jeans until he finds his keys. It doesn't take long for him to help her in and then get into his car after that. “Kinda defeats the purpose of offering you a ride, huh?” He jokes, tugging the door shut after clambering into the driver's side.

Y/n doesn't offer anything above a breathy laugh as Hassan gets the car started, and when he looks her way that time, Y/n hastily shifts her gaze to the road straight ahead.

She doesn't trust herself to keep looking at him, god knows she almost let impulse overrule better sense when they were standing outside of the school and then again when they'd just reached his car.

He's the sheriff. She teaches his son Shakespeare. It's wildly inappropriate and they are decent, professional people.

Which, arguably, makes the thought of it that much hotter. The tall, hunky, jaded sheriff and the young English teacher – the raunchy story writes itself.

And that's why she turns away when Hassan fixes his dark eyes on her while starting the car. Because she'll give in that time, and they're still in the school parking lot. Because the last thing she needs is the mayor, principal, a slew of parents and some of the other teachers witnessing her lunging for the sheriff.

Besides, she won't be able to bear the embarrassment of rejection. And she'd like to not have to walk through a storm.

The drive to her house, which is just one block over from Hassan and his son's, is racked with silence and a tension that Y/n figures is concentrated to her side of the car; every time she looks over at him, Hassan seems as cool and unaffected as ever. Wet hair matted to his brow, flannel shirt clinging to his broad frame and one hand firmly gripping the wheel while his other arm is casually draped along the edge of his door.

How dare he make something as mundane as driving look like foreplay?

“All good?” Hassan quips when he catches her eyes lingering.

“What?” She swallows thickly, feeling her cheeks heat up, “yeah. Totally. Good.”

“Good,” Hassan hums, returning his gaze to the road ahead as he turns onto her street. It's coming down in buckets by then, and Y/n is actually a little taken aback by how quickly the weather has deteriorated. It's been a little overcast all day, but that's hardly unusual for October and they haven't had rain in almost a month.

Y/n keeps her eyes trained outside the passenger window for the rest of the drive, which doesn't even last for very long after his last turn. When he stops at the curb in front of her house, a simple affair with exposed brick, a Dutch gable roof arched windows, Y/n doesn't get out immediately.

“Thanks for the ride,” she finally turns to him again.

Hassan nods stiffly, fingers absently tapping the bottom of the steering wheel, “no problem.”

“I owe you….like a coffee, or something,” Y/n offers, impulsively adding, “unless you'd rather I returned the favor right now.”

Immediately, she wants to kick herself for saying it, or even better yet have the ground open up below her.

“What?” Hassan rasps, head snapping up as he shifts in his seat.

“I….” Unable to gauge his reaction under his stoicism, Y/n tries to do some damage control. “I don't know why I said that,” she shakes her head hastily, “sometimes I just say….”

“Things you don't mean?”

“Really stupid things,” she huffs.

Hassan emits a slow hum. “What exactly does that mean?” He knits his brows, as if he's thinking really hard on the matter, “return the favor.”

Dragging her lower lip through her teeth, Y/n shrugs. She's already opened the can, best just let the worms out – or whatever would be a proper reconstruction of that phrase. “Whatever you want it to mean.”

He reaches over the consoul, the warmth of his large palm permeating the wet fabric of her jeans. “I've got some ideas,” his hand glides upwards, only stopping when his fingers are close enough to brush the area right under the zipper of her jeans.

“This is very inappropriate, Sheriff,” Y/n looks down at his hand on her thigh before panning her gaze back up to meet his.

“Then you could just say no,” he suggests.

Y/n means it; it is incredibly inappropriate. She'd never slept with a parent, but then again, a parent has never looked as good as Hassan el Shabazz.

“Oh fuck it.” Hastily unbuckling her seatbelt, Y/n leans over and grabs his face. As she presses her lips to Hassan’s in a heady kiss, he grips her hips and practically drags her into his lap.

“Shit,” he mumbles when her back hits the horn, “We can't –”

“What?” She breathes, words tumbling into his mouth.

“Well,” his words are barely making it out as their lips work hungrily, and when Y/n grinds against his crotch, Hassan groans loudly and squeezes her waist. “Not in here. I can…. barely…..fucking move.”

Snorting a chuckle, Y/n finally pulls away. Her chest is racked with heavy breaths and she's still gripping a fistful of dark blue flannel on one hand. “Fair. Wanna come in?”

“Do you even have to ask?” He shoots back, kissing Y/n hard one more time before she clumsily stubbles out. She leaves the door open for him and jogs up the short, paved path to the front steps.

Under the protection of the porch, and with the aid of the light she'd left on before leaving home, Y/n rummages through her small purse, finding them right as Hassan starts taking long strides towards her. She gets the door open just as he reaches her. Not waiting for them to get inside, Hassan snatches her hips again and crushes his mouth to hers.

Y/n stumbles backwards into the house, blindly discarding her purse as Hassan kicks the door shut. When he shoves her against the closest wall, she elicits a quiet oof that he eagerly muffles.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He probs, trapping her between his firm body and the cool wall.

Smiling through slower kisses, Y/n's lithe fingers travel down his front to grab his crotch, the size of the bulge there making moisture pool in her center. “I think I've got a pretty good idea.”

“Yeah?” The word is a hoarse whisper as Y/n undoes the button and zipper of his jeans, “that's not even half of it, babygirl.”

Dipping her hand into his boxers, she gasps as she closes her hand in around his impressive girth. “What else?” She croons, using her thumb to spread around a bead of precum.

Lowering his head to lay his lips on her neck, Hassan alternates between pressing feverish kisses to her soft skin and nibbling on the area around her pulse. Simultaneously, his rough hands dip under the hem of her sweater, first flattening to rove the dip of her waist before journeying upwards to knead her breasts through her bra.

“Better if I show you,” he declares after tugging his teeth away from her neck. Making short work of pulling the sweater over her head, Hassan reaches for the button on her jeans, handling it so roughly that it pops right off, the soft sound of it hitting the floor drowned out by their heavy breathing.

“You're wearing a skirt the next time we see each other,” he warns while peeling off her pants and underwear. When they reach her ankles, Y/n can't seem to kick them off fast enough, her shoes getting lost in the hurry.

Hassan's jeans and boxers don't make it past his knees before he's grabbing the back of her thighs and hoisting her up. Y/n’s legs immediately hook to his hips and he barely lets a second go to waste before sliding into her.

“God!”

“Fuck!”

Their unison exclamations are accompanied by his vice grip on her hip tightening enough to leave bruises and her nails sinking into his shoulder blades. He fills her so completely that it burns and Y/n swears she can feel him in the lower part of her stomach.

But she wants more.

“Move. Please,” she whines desperately.

Eager to comply, Hassan stirs a steady pace of rough, controlled thrusts. With each roll of his hips, he removes himself almost completely before driving back into her. Every time their hips connect, Y/n swears he's hit something no one else has ever touched and she can't help the pitched yelp that breaks her lips, combating the sound pouring rain and rolling thunder.

Gripping the back of his neck, she cups his cheek with her other hand, urging his face closer. His tongue swirls around hers and she completely relinquishes any remaining semblance of control.

Reaching between them, Hassan presses his thumb to the bundle of nerves between her thighs, rubbing it in vigorous circles and effectively adding to the growing pressure in her stomach.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Hassan encourages when her legs start stiffening. “That's it babygirl,” he praises when her hips buck enthusiastically, “I wanna feel…..just like that,” he grunts through clenched teeth when Y/n finally pulses around his length. “Fuck!”

Hassan's release is on the heel of her, generous ribbons of his hot product drenching her walls. There's a stutter in the drilling motion of his hips, but he still manages to ride out their highs with an almost assaulting pace.

And then, when they're done, he slumps forward, his weight pinning her to the wall.

Despite the coolness provided by the storm raging outside, their both sweaty and there's a stifling heat surrounding them. Her legs are as good as jelly, and when Hassan gingerly detaches himself from her, the only thing keeping Y/n upright is his steadying, one handed grip. With his free hand, he reaches between her sore thighs; collecting the bits of silky moisture in curled fingers before slipping them between her folds.

“Shit,” Y/n hisses, leaning her head to his chest, which is somehow still guarded by his wet shirt.

“What?” Hassan prompts.

“I'm not on…..anything,” she admits. In the moment, it was the furthest thing from her mind, and even now, she's more concerned about his reaction than what it might mean for herself.

In fact, there's an odd sense of satisfaction that accompanies the thought of risking it all for the sheriff – knowing that of all the women he could chose from the island, the mainland or wherever the fuck he wants to, she's the one that he fucked brainless, and there won't be any denying it.

But that's something that she doesn't want to think about right now.

“Really?” She can practically hear his smirk and it forces her to loll her head back so she can try to make out his expression in the dimess, only illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning. “Then maybe we should see what happens if we do that again.”

[ao3feed-midnightmass]

The First Time

by peakyispunk Father John goes shopping, and he meets a beautiful woman that warns him about dirty apples. Words: 3247, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Midnight Mass (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Relationships: Father Paul Hill | Monsignor John Pruitt/Reader, Sheriff Hassan (Midnight Mass)/Reader Additional Tags: John Pruitt x fem!reader, no use of (Y/N), John isn't a monsignor because he's young, No vampires, Bev Keane is the worst thing in Crockett tbh, no Paul Hill, Sheriff Hassan x fem!reader (platonic-esque), set in the show's current timeline, no Mille x John, John isn't Sarah's dad March 13, 2023 at 12:37PM Read it on Ao3 » https://archiveofourown.org/works/45719377 ✞ Don’t forget to leave kudos and comments to let the author know you enjoyed their work ✞

[velvet-paradox]

Crushed

Fandom: Midnight Mass (2021)

Pairing: Sheriff Hassan x Female reader

Summary: Getting close to the new sheriff was easy, finding out you made him nervous was the icing on the cake.

Length: Long

Warnings: WOAH NSFW 18+, strong language, talks of past abuse, emotions, tiny mention of tobacco use, explicit content, the lawman is a sweetheart, SMUT, protected P in V, Oral (F receiving).

Tagging: @synnersaint @abandonedmemorys @topiaries @londondlady7 @rangotangomango @delightfully-anonymous @mrs-nandortherelentless  @obeydontstray

Monday's were shipment days on Crockett Island, meaning more work for you at the general store but it also meant that your day went by in a flash. Sometimes that Flynn boy or his friend Ooker would stop by after school and lend you a hand, you'd give them each a King size candy bar of their choice for their youthful efforts manhandling jugs of water and pallets of rice. 

"Are you coming out tomorrow night?" Warren asks, pulling out crumpled bills from his pocket as they fall to the counter and a few coins shatter to the ground in his haste. It was going to be dark soon and he wanted to make it home before then, something about some tournament online he wanted to watch.

"What's tomorrow night?" You toss his sweet tooth confectionaries in a small bag while you eye the boy over the counter.

"The high school is having an ice cream social, they're even gonna' let us pick out a movie."

"I thought those things were just for students and staff."

Warren shrugged and took the bag when the bell over the door chimed, another arrival and by the time you looked at the clock just in front of you by the beer coolers you had an inkling Joe Collie might be the culprit. "You were a substitute teacher, that counts right?"

"Hardly," you laughed fondly remembering how those rowdy kids did everything but their school work, they liked you so they didn't rib you too hard and you let them get away with it. Kids deserve some fun. Plus you didn't know what you were doing or supposed to be doing as Erin Greene had called you last minute the night before in a panic that one of the teachers was staying home the next day. Art was always your strong suit so covering for that particular class didn't sound that challenging. "That was one time Warren and you bunch scared me off the job for good!"

"Oh come on we weren't that bad." Warren mused and swung his bag of goodies, telling you you should come anyway before heading out, picking up his bike from the outside by the front windows and fall display.

Joe Collie was in fact perusing his options at the cooler, like he'd switch it up and not go with his old stand-by.

The door chimed again and when you looked up, and up for that matter you were sure that the sheriff would have to duck to get his tall frame inside. He was just a few inches shy of banging his head on the door jam itself. His thick black hair always looked in impressive shape, smooth and shining in the afternoon sun like he'd just dipped his whole head in oil. 

You were the first to greet the new sheriff and his boy Ali when they came to join the community on Crockett Island. Fresh faces with new stories to tell were always welcome, you could only stand to hear a few of the parents' drabble on with the same tales you'd heard for the past three years when you yourself came out here to the sleepy town that the world forgot.

You were sure he could be rather imposing at his height and build but to you he was kind and had a good heart, the officer didn't even carry a weapon. He strolled in, eyeing Joe who had made his final decision and was coming up to the counter. Then he spotted you. He raised his eyebrows with a small smile hidden beneath his trim yet coarse beard. You wondered to yourself if he wore a ten gallon hat, if he would tip it your way or cover his heart with it.

Even worse you'd grown rather fond of him but that wasn't a bad thing, not at all but it did mean, since the sheriff's office was at the back of the general store that you two interacted on a daily. Again, not a crisis but it made you sort of fall for the lawman. It was just a crush because of circumstances, you told yourself that for the first few months when you noticed how fidgety your hands were or how swollen your tongue felt in your mouth when you talked to him. Eye contact was a fucking Olympic sport to you now.

You kept that to yourself like most things, only Erin Greene and Dr. Gutting knew the real you at this point.

"Afternoon Y/N." The sheriff said, picking up a protein bar and made a face at it before setting it back down grabbed a Milkyway instead. Apparently the people here had a craving for sweets lately.

"Afternoon sheriff." You responded in kind, smiling at him and hoping he didn't see the big fat red stamp of SUCKER on your forehead. You eyed the wedding band on his finger and you didn't ask questions. You didn't see a wife or mother when you met them, maybe they were only separated or the ring held a lot of value. Maybe an heirloom of sorts.

"Ah Joe Collie, and what sort of night am I going to have hmm?" He adverted his eyes to the bundled up town drunk, though you had spoken to him and knew his distress and exactly why he drank so much you felt bad for him. A few times in the colder months you'd drop off an extra casserole or two to tide him over and hopefully fill his portly belly with something more substantial than booze.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Joe grunted and set down the beer on the counter, digging out his wallet.

"You know what I mean. Are you going to be sleeping over again?" The sheriff asked.

"Ha ha Sharif, I'll be just fine on my own tonight thank you." Joe sneered and gave you a quick unhumorous smile as he passed you a ten dollar bill.

The lawman pursed his lips at the awful name, knowing full well he knew the taller and broader man standing before him in his uniform with his hands on his hips knew his true name. Joe just had a poor outlook on life and he gave the amount of shit given to him to others and had made shit salad out of life rather then trying to turn his lemons into something sweeter.

"We'll see about that."

"Oh we sure will," Joe took his change and moved around the sheriff, making a disgruntled voice as none other than Miss Beverly Keane stepped aside, holding the door for him as if she were some saint and not the bane of most of Crock Pot's existence, including your own.

With a bare freckled face and single braid with the ankle length floral skirt of hers did she give Joe half a smile before coming into the store, making a beeline for you behind the corner. Totally ignoring the big man in the room.

"Good afternoon Ms. Y/L/N," you knew damn well that her smile was about as fake as that mock Coach purse she held under arm. She'd boasted about her clearance find on the mainland too many times to care at this point. "I have a question for you; we're having an ice cream social tomorrow night at the school and I was wondering if you might have any of those little snack cakes. You know the ones that have the little colorful dots on them or zebra cakes, anything like that? some of the faculty would rather not have ice cream at an ice cream event, can you imagine?" Beverly scoffed and rolled her eyes, surely rolling them so far that she finally took notice of the sheriff standing just behind her. "Oh! good day sheriff, I didn't even see you there."

He gave her a tight lipped smile, as phony as the one she'd just given you before nodding his head at her. You swore you saw him wink at you before he strolled past you to his back office. "Have a good evening Bev."

"Anyway, do you have any of those here, in stock?"

"Last aisle on the left." You kept your conversation as relaxed as humanly possible.

She turned and ambled through the little store.

When she left Hassan came back out, ducking his head out just a little like he was hiding from the big bad wolf making sure the coast was clear. He looked at you and genuinely smiled. You didn't see him do it a lot but it sure was nice and even nicer to be on the receiving end of it.

"Is it safe?" He joked and slunk out, leaving the door open behind him as there was no real threat coming the stores way.

"Clear."

"She gives me the shakes."

"Beverly has that effect on people." You snorted and chuckled at the image of this big man getting the willies from little old Beverly as you flipped through a random gardening magazine on the counter, you'd dog eared a few landscape designs towards the front.

"You know I've been wondering... I've only really heard you and Joe Collie call her Beverly, everyone else calls her Bev. Is there a certain reason or...?" He strode up to the free side of the partition, leaning his top half on his arm while he tore open the candy bar, little snacks like those were on the house per the owner's request of course, not because you were sweet on the man in uniform. No, certainly not that. "I know she's not your favorite person but... just curious I guess."

"Because she asked me not to."

Hassan snorted.

"Well not exactly, when I first got here to the island she was incredibly nice to me, overly so and told me she preferred friends to call her Bev. She's no friend of mine so I call her Beverly; she knows exactly why." You explained.

"You're not from here?" Hassan's eyebrows met in the middle.

"Oh no. I've only been around here for almost three years now, weathered four storms so far. It can get pretty bad, not as bad as 2002; I'll let Wade tell you that one."

"She seems to irk you more than she does me."

"That's because Beverly Keane is a fucking monster."

Hassan's eyebrows, thick and neat with the right one having a missing slash that you were dying to know how he got raised damn near to his hairline. "A monster?"

"Oh yes. She's more like a fucking werewolf in a duck costume. She's so full of her own garbage she wouldn't recognize evil if it looked her in the eye and she does not look in a mirror, let me tell you." You griped, letting curses fly free in front the sheriff. You should bite your tongue but God help you that woman...

"So she is capable of being tolerable?" Hassan asked after a quiet beat, tearing off a chuck of the chocolate before popping it into his mouth, chewy slowly.

"I suppose anyone is. When I got here..." you stopped yourself and tucked the magazine under the shelf at your waist before bending down on your elbows. "We're friends right, sheriff?"

He finished chewing and nodded, almost leaning more into your space. "Of course Y/N. Of course we are." He blinked.

"Not too many people on the island know that I was married before. Erin and Sarah know, now you and unfortunately Beverly. I got as far away from that whole situation, anything familiar or held some sort of memory. I wanted it all gone so I found the farthest place I could from all of it and I ended up here in the Crock Pot. It wasn't all bad, the first two years of my marriage were great actually. We had a fun wedding, decent house but then year three came and," you sighed heavily and gave him a look that had him slowly rising to his full height, crossing his arms over his chest. "He lost his job which meant he lost his pension which also meant that it was somehow my fault. A lot of my blood, sweat and tears went into that house. Literally."

Hassan's eyebrows creased and even though his beard covered the lower half of his face, you could see his jaw clench. It made a little vein in his temple pop.

"He'd knocked me around one week then apologize the next, it was a routine at that point and I was stuck on the hamster wheel. I didn't have anymore friends or family to reach out to, he made sure to check my phone constantly for that. He was so paranoid... it was a nightmare."

"Sounds more like torture."

"Oh that came soon after," again Hassan made an incredulous face his fingers now digging into the bulge of his arms scratching at the denim. "TMI but... we were having a rut like most marriages do, him smacking me around was part of it but we tried, we tried different avenues, read some things watched some things. We'd play this sort of cat and mouse game and at it first it was fun, we were both on the same page running about the house laughing about how he was gonna' get me this time," you shook your head and sighed. "But one night... he wasn't laughing. It wasn't a game anymore, at least not to me."

The sheriff shut his eyes, sucking his teeth before thinking about just what you meant by that. "He... hurt you?"

You knew what he meant by that. "All the time. He told me he'd kill me if I ever told anyone what he was capable of. He said it so calmly I believed him instantly. I was surprised when I gave him the divorce papers that he didn't put up too much of a fight, maybe he was tired of beating me, who knows? He did give me a going away slap in the face when we left the lawyer's office though."

"Christ!"

"A monster," you pointed towards the front door. "I know a monster when I meet one. Like I said, Beverly was too nice and too eager and when I felt comfortable enough, like I do now with you, I told her the same story. And do you know what the first words out of her mouth were?"

Hassan silently shook his head.

You chuckled darkly. "She had the nerve to tell me he was probably trying to beat the Devil out of me, that I had let myself be preyed upon. That it was my fault my ex-husband beat me, that I had given him a reason to and that he was trying to right my wrongs. Make me an obedient little wife. You believe that?"

He shook his head in disbelief and honestly it sounded absurd to your own ears, it was too eccentric for Beverly yet she had made you to the be the villain in your own story. From that moment on you refused to bend your tongue around the shortened version of her name. You wanted so badly to twist the knife she'd stuck into your side those years ago into her back and what better way then to make her feel a little dig whenever you two saw each other. You knew it bothered her, you could see that tiny hint of displeasure when you said her name. It made you smile.

"As awful as that is and I am incredibly sorry you had to live through that; I can't seem to put it past her."

"She's a monster just like my ex-husband, only she thinks she's the Devil is in Crockett and not within."

....

"What do you think?" Erin Greene twirled in her new skirt, shorter than Beverly's puke floral from the day before. She looked good in serene colors, sage greens and powder blues. Those always made her eyes pop. It was still conservative. She spun again in her living room that you were occupying, a couple of glasses of wine in. She didn't mind.

"It's cute."

"Cute? come Y/N, it's just cute. Look at the movement." She twisted in her spot by the couch, a playful smile of her face. "It's beautiful!"

"Where are you going in that anyway?"

"The social." She shrugged and picked through a laundry basket on the couch, pulling out a cozy looking sweater, perfect for the chill of this time of year when the sun dipped behind the horizon and winter's fingertips kissed the island. "Aren't you going?"

"You're the second person to ask me that." You took a sip and shook your head no.

"Who was the first?"

"Warren Flynn."

Erin laughed. "Why am I not surprised? that boy has had a crush on you since you moved to the island."

"It'll break his little heart when he finds out I have a crush of my own then."

Uh oh. The wine was talking, your lips loose with facts when you covered your mouth. Wide eyed Erin rushed to your side, a glint of pure ecstatic nature over her face.

"You what?! who? tell me! You can trust me." 

"I know I can I just-"

"If you say its the new sheriff I'm gonna' lose it."

So you didn't. You just shrugged and took a deep sip of wine.

"It is! oh I can't believe this," Erin squealed with delight. "You have to come to the school tonight, he's going to be there. You two would look so good together."

"Woah slow down Erin," you slowed her down. "It's just a crush. We see each other everyday it might just be an infatuation. Besides the man is married."

Erin's sweet face fell a little. "He's actually a widower," talking about the death of a partner is never easy as is but to hear it from someone else, someone you didn't work with everyday but a close trusted friend you wondered how friendly you and Hassan really were if he hadn't told you himself. Maybe it was too painful, still too fresh in his mind to talk about. Those wounds don't ever truly heal. You knew that. "She died a few years ago, Ali... he didn't understand and Hassan carried that weight for himself and his boy. He's a good man Y/N, you two would be lucky to have each other."

You didn't need Erin to tell you that, you knew Hassan was one of the good ones.

"I don't know Erin, I have no business at a school social."

"Sure you do, you were a sub once." Erin smiled sweetly.

"Again you're the second person to tell me that!"

The school gym looked different at night, the buzzing hallways now eerily quiet and vacant as Erin finally convinced you to join her and the kids for the festivities. On the agreement that you could finish off one more glass, knowing Beverly would be present you would like some sort of a buffer if you had to deal with her at any point that evening.

There were plenty of seats taken towards the front by projector screen, a few sat together in the back laughing and throwing popcorn at each other. It smelled sickly sweet in the gym. Erin waved at few teachers before heading over to the ice cream bar.

"Didn't think you were comin'." 

You turned and saw the sheriff posted up on the other side of the doors you just came in through, leaned up against the brick wall with one foot against it as well, surveying the crowd with his hands on his hips, his usual stance.

"I wasn't. Erin talked me into it."

"She can talk you into oncoming traffic it seems."

You laughed a little too loudly at that, a smile on Hassan's face when you moved to stand next to him. "If that traffic is named Beverly Keane then yes she can."

"Ya' gonna' go get some ice cream?" He looked imposing in the darkened room, dark eyes made even darker.

"Maybe later, I'm not really big on sweets."

"No? 'm pretty sure I've seen you eat a candy bar or two." 

"Here and there, not like you Mr. Milkyway." You elbows his side but he didn't even budge and then the wine crept in and made you think you might have just assaulted an officer. "I didn't mean to do that! I hope you're not gonna' arrest me."

"For what?" He laughed and looked down at you. You felt miles away. "Relax Y/N I'm off duty though I'm still dressed. We're just two friends talking. A little jab isn't high on my lock up list."

You fell into a comfortable conversation, watching the others mill about before deciding on one of three movies up for election and clinking of spoons in reusable plastic cups. You looked over to find Erin who was waving over at you, giving a thumbs up and you shook your head, wild eyed as she did so blatantly. 

Not in front of the sheriff! 

"I'm uh gonna' go find a seat, want me to save you one?"

"Nah you go on ahead, I'll be fine back here. Just in case Joe fails on his promise of staying in tonight."

You nodded, a little sad but pushed yourself off the wall and made your way around the chairs, picking a spot in the back row waiting for Erin if she ever did sit down. She must've gotten lost in a conversation with someone because the movie was a good thirty minutes in and you hadn't seen her since you were on the wall.

A chair moved next to you and you were just about to ask Erin where she was when you noticed familiar denim and long lean legs plop down next to you, knees out wide so he could he could fit comfortably. You smiled at Hassan and he returned the gesture, knocking his shoulder into yours ever so slightly before he clasped his hands in his lap.

....

"Just ask her Dad, how hard can it be?" 

You were helping an older couple from a few miles out load up their car with groceries, it was Half Price Wednesday and they were sure to show up every time. Heavy cans in one paper bag that you saved pieces of the broken down cardboard boxed from stocking so the older husband wouldn't hurt himself when they arrived back home.

You heard Ali's voice but didn't see him, bending over in the trunk to make sure their eggs and bread were secured on top.

"Not so loud, jeez."

"You're the adult here aren't you?"

"Watch it son."

You didn't want to take the tip the old man gave you, a few crumbled fives. He did this every week and every week when he turned to hobble into the driver's seat you would tuck the bills back into one of the grocery bags before shutting the trunk and waving them off.

"Come on."

"Ali wait!"

"Hey Miss Y/N!" You turned to see Ali walking up to you at the front of the store, jogging ahead of his father on the wooden planks that creaked under his weight.

"Oh hey Ali. How's it goin'?"

"Good good. Listen uh what are you doing next Friday?"

You frowned. "Why? is this some kinda' teen prank or something?"

"No no. I was wondering, well Dad and I were wondering if you'd like to come to the mainland with us next Friday." Ali smiled, one similar to his father's without all that scruffy stuff.

"Oh really? don't you two go to mosque on Friday's?"

"We do but," Ali looked behind him as Hassan was approaching the pair of you, his mouth set in a fine line. "Afterwards we go to this really nice restaurant, I think it would be nice if you came with us time."

Ali jumped a little when his Dad was behind him then, large hands clamping down on his sons' shoulders, grounding him in place.

"What are you two talking about hmm?"

"I'll see what I can do." You smiled.

"Do? do about what?" Hassan's eyes narrowed, not wary but curious.

"I'll see you around!" Ali exclaimed when you slipped passed them, patting the sheriff's shoulder and back into the store and just as you walked through the chimes you heard Hassan's tone slightly change.

"Ali what did you say?!"

You were able to move your schedule around, swapped hours so you could make it time to the ferry docks where the ship was taking on passengers. You recognized Ali right away, looking around as if he'd stolen something valuable. His light yellow jacket standing out amongst the plain blacks and browns of other people's coats. He caught your eye, excited that you had showed up in time to catch the boat with him and his father but you didn't see the sheriff anywhere in sight.

You made your way to the ramp.

"You came!"

"I'm here," you smiled and looked around as people moved passed you to get on the ferry. "Where's your dad?"

"He just went to the bathroom, he hates the one on the ferry," Ali chuckled. "I think he's just extra nervous."

"Nervous? why would he be nervous?"

Ali rolled his eyes with a smile. "Because of you. You make him nervous Miss Y/N."

Shocked you took a step back. "Well that's not good."

"No no, not in a bad way! nervous in a good way. He likes you; a lot. He talks about you all the time at home, not in front of mom of course but... I know my dad and he's giving off serious heart eyes around the house." Ali beamed and you felt dizzy.

You opened your mouth to speak, the sun shining high in your face when heard boots approaching. You turned to see Hassan out of his uniform, a thick sweater poked out from underneath a mossy green jacket, his hands shoved into the pockets.

"Hey Y/N, what are you doing here?" He asked, looking hard at his son.

"I'm going to the mainland with you guys."

Hassan let out a nervous laugh, wiping at his brow before you all walked together over the ramp and onto the ship.

"You are?"

"Well I was waiting for an invite from you but Ali asked me first, I'll take one invite from one el-Shabbaz over none."

It was cute. Downright adorable how right Ali was about his father, Hassan had bumped your hand when you got onto the ferry, he'd apologized and fumbled over his words like he was tongue tied. Ali laughed but was face deep in his phone, no doubt texting Warren all about it. You lost track of how many times he'd smoothed a large hands over his hair, how many times you had caught him promptly looking away.

They left you in the city, heading off in the direction of the mosque. You knew this area well and went into numerous shops and stores, getting yourself a coffee as well. Might as well have something hot in your cold hands, kicking through some scattered leaves at your feet. Fall had certainly set in on the coast, nights were getting colder and blustery mornings left your face with a light sting. Fragments of frost on your windows and door when you locked up and headed into work.

A while later you met up with the pair, their eyes bright and they looked refreshed. Both of them smiling as they came down the street to greet you, letting Ali take the lead in walking your group towards the restaurant that he swore had the best breadsticks. 

Ali was right. Everything in that little hole in the wall restaurant was delicious, you made it a point to take a picture of the menu and add it to your list to come back to. Hassan's sweet tooth was as real as it gets when the pleasant waitress came by with a fancy little dessert menu on beautiful cardstock. He shook his head but Ali urged his father, mentioning out loud that he always got dessert. Hassan seemed to panic and cleared his throat, making wide eyes at his son across from him. He ordered some cavity rotting cheesecake that had a caramel drizzle.

Hassan was a few forkfuls into the cake, close his eyes and lips around the fork as if it were heaven on a plate. Ali got up to use the bathroom, leaving you to have a possible conversation or to watch your town's Sherriff devour his dessert.

"Ali says I make you nervous."

Hassan choked and dropped his fork with a clatter off the plate, you were surprised it didn't ping off itself and fly down to the floor. He looked at you next to him, a slight reddening beginning to sheer through under his soft brown skin. "And why would he say that?"

You moved your mouth. "No clue, he seems to be under the impression that you might have a little crush on me."

Hassan took a healthy chug of his water that he had ordered with extra lemons before locking eyes with you, you felt warm and you could only imagine he felt it even more. The chemistry between you two was clear from day one when they got to the island, had shook hands and instantly hit it off. 

"Um... well he's not wrong," Hassan kindly smiled, tapping his fingers on the cloth covered table. "I just- I don't know it feels weird, ya' know? Not weird to like you but weird that I thought I'd never feel that feeling again. I didn't need to worry about having those anymore I had my person, I had no other reason or will to look at anyone other my wife. She was perfect," Hassan licked his lips and folded his hands next to the remains of his dessert. "It feels weird to like you so much, to think I could be happy again. I feel guilty."

"You don't think your wife would want you to be happy?" You asked and touched his hands, he twitched a little but let you touch him.

"I don't know. I was happy with her, I'd feel like I was disrespecting her memory if I consumed a life with you. I don't want to forget her."

"How could you? she was your wife Hassan," at the mention of his name, one that you hadn't said since the day you met him he perked up and really seemed to look at you. "She was your person, like you said there's no way you could ever forget her or what she was like or the son she gave you. You have those memories and nostalgia for that life, that's completely normal. I like you too but if it's too much, too soon or you're just not ready at all that's fine," you squeezed his fingers. "Really, you take your time to heal. All the time you need. It's not at all like my marriage," you snorted a laugh to lighten the mood and he smiled at that. He even tightened it his hold on your hand.

A week had gone by, your usual banter and jokes flowed just as usual with both of your confessions. You were both adults but hadn't taken anything further then just the accountability of it. Though you did register the way he'd take his time looking at you, gave you full attention and saved up his smiles from the day just for you.

He came out of his office, light on his feet and almost ran into you as you came around the corner with a box of oranges to set out by the window. Hassan held your arms down and actually moved you over, like moved you. Your feet barely off the ground for all of 3.2 seconds but you were in the air by his mere strength. It made you hot for the rest of the day.

You weren't expecting him to be waiting around outside chatting with Joe as he scratched behind Pike's ears. You were just locking up for the night, the sun going down earlier and earlier since the shift to change your clocks back. It was getting close to freezing at night now on Crockett, little clouds of breath hung around everyone's mouths.

"Mind if I walk you home?" The sheriff asked once you'd locked the doors. He had his own set of keys looped to the front of his jeans in case he needed to hold someone for the night.

"Sure."

There was a benevolent look about the sheriff, giving Joe Collie a pointed look as the older man put up his hands in defeat before starting off towards your house. It really wasn't necessary to own a vehicle on the island, not like that anyway all of the things and places you needed to be were right on this side of the island.

Sometimes you'd wonder what it must've been like to grow up here in Crockett, to grow up knowing everyone and everything about the folks who lived here, who fished here, who had prospered. It wasn't a long walk but it wasn't short either, just enough to have a decent chitchat or enjoy a whole cigarette. 

"I'm sorry about the other day," he stated, keeping his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. Getting the memo, this jacket had a nice thick fleece inner lining. "I didn't mean to spill out all of that."

"It's fine. I understand our situation is a little off but-"

"No I mean it," he stopped in the middle of the road, the houses that were lined on either side of the street had their windows and shutters closed, curtains letting out what little light there was left. "I really do you like you Y/N, I just don't- I don't want to cause more harm then good. I come with a lot of baggage."

You closed the gap between you which wasn't much but you could see the way his body stiffened up that he was alert to the conversation. "So do I. I'm not perfect and I don't claim to be, there might be some things you don't like about me or understand how I work. I may annoy the fuck out of you and you can't stand me, you could get bored or tired of me being around but..."

"But what?"

You looked up in his face, a shy smile on his lips while he stood there in front of you with his hands balled up into bashful fists. "But I like you too much not to try."

Hassan stared at you, trying to figure you out. That smile grew and he bent his head down to your level, dark brown eyes glittering in the overhead street lights. "I'd like to try it too."

Hassan smirked and looked away for a moment. "Is that your way of asking more than one thing?"

He took your hand in his, walking the rest of the way home. Beaten and warm.

You hovered on your front steps, going up two to be eye level with him, the other houses were black leaving you two in the dim light of the streetlamp near by. Not even crickets could be heard, just the faint swish of the water not too far away.

"Do you want to come inside?"

"Maybe."

"Ali will be home soon and I-"

"It's Saturday night, he's over at Warren's anyway, he's old enough to make himself something to eat right? he'll be fine. Nothing happens here anyway. And if it does," you pointed to his walkie-talkie clipped to his belt next to his keys. You took a step down and touched his arm with a question. "Too fast?"

"No. I'd like to come inside I just," he looked down at his hand, at war with himself it seemed as he spun the little silver band around his finger took a deep breath and pulled it off. He put in his front jacket pocket, buttoning the jewelry for safe keeping and gave it a pat. "Didn't feel right to wear it when I come in."

He told you to lead the way, following you up the steps and into your house.

After you turned on a few lights and gave him a quick tour, it wasn't a mansion by any means just a two bedroom bungalow but it was yours and nice and -

Before you knew it, Hassan had turned to you, ducking down and kissed your cheek. Just a little one, as if testing the waters as if he thought he might've lost his ability to kiss after so long. His lips were lonely. And soft.

"How about a real one?" You asked, he looked golden in the lighting of your bedroom. You put your hands in his jacket pockets, pulling yourself up him as he kissed you lightly on the mouth. He kept his lips closed, that first kiss feeling sending all kinds of tingles through your body was no doubt fluttering around inside him as well.

He hummed once he felt more comfortable, holding you close so you could smell his conditioner, beard oil and deodorant and something so distinctly Hassan you had to smile against his lips. His office always smelled like that. He pulled away, looking down at you.

You said his name.

"Fuck Y/N," he shook his head as his fingers flitted over your arms. "I know its' my name but... hearing you say it is something else. Only heard you say it once. Sounds sweet."

"It must, since now it's directed to you."

He frowned. "What does that mean?"

You smiled cheekily, cupping his head and talking lowly in his ear. "I say your name all the time, you're just never here to hear it."

Hassan practically growled, his eyes on fucking fire you barely had a chance to catch your breath before his mouth was on you again, kissing you harder, smacking his lips against yours like he'd never tasted anything better than your mouth right now. You moaned into his mouth, spurring him on when he started walking, tripping over his feet to get as close to you as possible.

"You think about me?" He mumbled against your lips, his beard warm against your cheek.

"All the time baby." He groaned and shut his eyes tight. "In the shower, in the morning especially at night," you hummed as he pushed his hips into yours at the foot of your bed. "But you know when I really sing your name; after I shave, nothing better than thinking about you inside me with nothing in the way."

"Ugh, you're bare?" He groaned again, chomping at the air.

"You wanna' find out?"

His eyes sprung open and you had never taken off your coat or clothes faster, the sounds of both you shedding your layers to end up in a haphazard pile at your feet.

"Fuck," Hassan had all but growled out against your thighs which he had been mouthing and nibbling over, "I almost forgot how much I love eating pussy."

You whined at the loss of his slick lips over your own, molding them back to your bundle of nerves. For a brief lapse you envied his lost wife having married this fucking mouth, with the exquisite way Hassan used his mouth against you, flicking and tonguing and knowing the way correct way to split your bare lower lips (save for the little landing stripe of trimmed of hair on your mound), how to suckle here and lap there had you lifting your hips against his working jaw. His persistence to get you off first, hands full of thick locks as if you'd float up and away.

Sheriff Hassan knew what he doing, that was for damn for sure.

Two thick fingers moved in and out of your cunt, curling them inside you. Exploring. You keened and tightened your grip, met with a satisfied groan that you fucking reeling. His beard tickled your naked thighs, the smooth and sensitive skin vibrating with his want and need to taste, to devour you whole.

"Don't stop don't you dare fucking st-" without warning you came, a squeal of obscenities as he lapped at your clit, savoring and twisting those thick fingers through your slick just how you liked.

As if he'd done this a thousand times. 

You closed your legs around his head, shuddering through your orgasm, smiling in the dark. He didn't stop, though his mouth was away from your heat his lips now secured around his own fingers, cleaning you off of them.

Quite the sight. "You're really good at that." You panted with a satisfied grin.

"Good to know I haven't lost my charm." Hassan laughed and crawled up over you on the bed, how wrinkled your shirt was on your belly, pant-less and opening your legs to accommodate his larger size. He held your face, bringing you in for a sloppy kiss. He smiled against your lips, he stopped kissing your neck for just a moment when you fumbled at your bedside, blindly grabbing into the little drawer for a condom. You brought it up between you, the foil crinkled and made Hassan look.

"Are you sure?" His lips looked almost swollen, being put to work like that.

"I am if you are." 

Hassan took the condom out of your hand, turning it over in his hands before pecking your nose and sitting back on his knees. His undershirt was the first to go, he looked good in the heather grey Henley he wore earlier now forgotten on the floor, he unclipped his keys and tossed them aside before tearing at his belt and zipper.

"You're sure about this?" God forbid you rush the man, you knew you wanted him but how much he wanted you remained be seen. He stopped just as his wiggled out of his jeans, large hands on his hips that drew just enough of your attention to the impressive bulge in his boxers. "I'm not pressuring you am I?" you asked and sat up on your elbows.

"No," he smiled and hovered over you, grinding himself into the soft meat of your inner thigh. You felt him pull himself out, at an odd angle but you did catch just enough of it when he tore open the foil and rolled the safety net down his shaft. Thick and brown and pointed directly at your center. You moved your legs further apart. "I want this. I want you."

"I want you too Hassan."

You saw him physically shiver, knowing what you were doing and then gasping when you felt him press himself into you. Hassan groaned, made incredible sounds and pants when he pushed. 

It was slow and intimate, the way Hassan had caged you in starting off with shallow thrusts, taking your facial expressions and hastening breaths as clues. You reached up and cupped his jaw, fingers scratching lightly into his beard until he purred and closed his eyes, long lashes nearing the apples of his cheeks. You smiled and brought your legs up to his moving waist, leaning up to capture his parted lips in a sweet kiss.

"You feel amazing." Hassan grunted, (clearly not nervous at all now) shifting his weight so he was pressed up on his arm while the other felt around your ribs, ghosting over you covered breast, giving one a loving squeeze. "I want this to last, not sure how long I can though. Never felt a grip like this before."

He seemed to be talking to out loud, looking down between your bodies, his free hand coming around you leg to grip your thigh.

"You know this isn't a one time thing right?" You mewled and pressed your chest up into his, your hands holding onto the hem of his shirt, guiding him back in when he reared back.

He paused. "I was really hoping you would say that." He laughed and it vibrated through you.

He picked up the pace after that, not entirely spearing his cock into you but more of a molding together, your walls clenching around him to keep him right where you needed. Everything between you felt incredible and sweet, the way he looked at you while he broke you apart had your mouth opening with a silent plea, a beg to get you off again. Hassan bit down on your shoulder, a fulfilled sigh passing through his teeth.

A few hours had passed by, at least. A few more foil packets littered the floor under your bed. If you could, you'd have him soak in you, keep his thick cock lodged deep inside you while you slept. Or at anytime honestly now that you had broken down the barrier. Even though Hassan had just made love to you again, not fucking though with the power he had in those hips and strong legs of his you knew he could really lay it down if you asked. His hands moved on their own, feeling every inch of your skin, shedding you of your shirt and bra. Both of you naked and basking in the early morning hours of a frosty day.

He was fast asleep next to you, wore out and sated for the first time in years. He looked so blissful and sweet you didn't want to wake him but with the rays from your blinds expanded along your wall, you knew you had to get up.

So did Crockett's lawman.

You turned in his arms, giggling quietly when he stretched still asleep, to pull you to him. You stroked the bridge of his nose which he promptly wrinkled. "Hassan... we should get up."

"Mmm not yet."

You laughed and did it again. "The town is on fire."

" 's fine, we're surrounded by water."

You shook your head and snuggled into him, breathing him in which now held tiny hints of your own scent. You liked the feeling of his fingers, strong and capable of so much tickle the blade of your shoulder, holding you close. You shrugged off getting up, everyone who wanted a seat at Saint Patrick's would be putting on their Sunday best and ready for service. And besides; nothing ever happened on the Crock Pot anyway.

As you fell back to sleep there was no way in knowing just how naïve and sadly wrong you were.

[pinkandblueblurbs]

kinktober day 10: gagging

sheriff hassan x fem!reader. gagging, gags, semi public sex, desk sex, degradation, mentions of spankings, d/s, brat taming, light size kink

“Take off your pants and underwear.” Hassan orders gruffly, planting large hands on his desk to push himself to his feet, his jaw set. Now standing up, he towers over you with his 6’4’’ stature.

“What?” You gape at him, despite the fact that his words shouldn’t surprise you- with how much you’ve been mouthing off to the man, it was obvious where things were headed.

“I said take off your pants and underwear.” His voice is even more firm, and he raises a thick brow, as if daring you to challenge him again. “And lay down on my desk, on your back.” He adds.

“Hassan-“

“Unless you’d rather I bend you over it and spank your ass raw, I’d suggest you get to it.” He’s stern, yes, but eerily calm- no trace of frustration or irritation in his tone- and it only makes your heart beat faster as a nervous thrill shoots through you.

“Yes, sir.” You murmur, hooking your thumbs in your waistband to obey his command. He offers you a curt nod, eyes trailing down your legs as you bare them to him.

“Good girl.” You lower your panties too, setting them with your pants on the desk, and his gaze lingers for just a moment on your pussy before he meets your eye again. “Now lay down, like I said.”

Keeping his earlier threat in mind you don’t hesitate to comply, hoisting yourself up onto his desk before draping your body over it, the wood cool against the skin of your back.

“Good.” He steps towards you, and your eyes zero in on his hands as he undoes his belt and the fly of his jeans, enough that he can pull out his half hard member. Your mouth waters at the sight of it- the man is certainly proportional, and even not fully erect his large cock makes your cunt pulse. Hassan smirks just a bit.

“You know what’s coming, don’t you? I can see you’re excited.” He observes, and his words make you realize that your legs had fallen open in invitation when he’d freed his cock. Heat rises to your cheeks, and you bite your lower lip as bashfully as you nod.

“Well, don’t get too excited. This isn’t gonna be particularly enjoyable for you.” He takes long strides towards you until he’s right between your legs, his hands coming to rest on your thighs, thumbs rubbing idly. Then he reaches up with one hand to stroke his cock to full hardness. “This is for me. I’m gonna fuck the brat right outta you, and you’re gonna be quiet. Is that clear?”

“Hassan-“

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.” You answer meekly, swallowing. He nods.

“Good.” He angles his cock downwards, and before you can even take a breath to prepare yourself he shoves forward roughly. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, his thick shaft stretching you almost painfully and his head spongeing over your g-spot.

“Quiet.” He grits, hands moving to grip your waist as he starts thrusting in and out of you. You bite your lip and manage to stifle the moan that threatens to spill from you, the sound coming out a broken whimper.

“Fuck, you feel so good. This is what you’re meant for, eh? Not running your damn mouth, or makin’ my life any more difficult than it already is. You’re supposed to be my stress relief, sweetheart, and that’s how I plan to use you.” He growls as he keeps pounding you, and paying no mind to you or your pleasure his cock only hits the mark every few thrusts. Yet still your orgasm grows nearer.

As your pleasure builds you find it more and more difficult to stifle your sounds. You can hear faint voices and footsteps through the wall, people walking around the store and talking to the clerk, and you try your best to stay quiet as Hassan had ordered. But then he drives forward right into your g-spot, and your lips fall open and your eyes squeeze shut as a lewd moan escapes you.

Hassan growls, and suddenly your eyes are flying open as you choke on two thick, long fingers that are shoved into your open mouth and down your throat. They make you gag, but they achieve their goal, as you’re unable to make any real noises around them.

“What did I say?” His eyes are narrow as he stares down at you, hips still thrusting. “I told you to be quiet. You want someone to hear you getting your brains fucked out? Word travels fast on this island, baby, the whole town would find out what a dirty thing you are.”

A moan tries to form at that, but it’s muffled by the digits still in your mouth, and Hassan can feel it. Still, you shake your head, and he scoffs.

“No? You don’t want them to hear? But you just can’t stay quiet, can you?” He taunts, making you whimper faintly. He sighs, pulling his fingers out of your mouth, a thick strand of saliva connecting them to your lower lip until he reaches away.

He picks up your discarded panties from the desk beside you, and your eyes widen.

“Open. Open your mouth.” He orders. You slowly let your mouth fall open, and he immediately shoves the balled up fabric inside, keeping it wrenched open and muffling the whines that you release. The cotton feels dry and uncomfortable in your mouth, and you know your jaw will be aching by the time Hassan is finished with you.

He’s smirking at the sight of you with your pretty panties in your mouth, a glint in his eye as he keeps fucking. You let out another moan, almost inaudible behind the fabric, as he reaches down to toy with your clit.

“That’s much better.” He mutters. “Dirty girl just needed to be gagged.”

[preciouslandmermaid]

KINKTOBER 2022.

Going to attempt to DO Kinktober. I haven’t done this since my days on Live Journal! Under the cut, you’ll find multiple options per day. The list was inspired by this one (found here) with some adjustments to match my own comfort and limits.  How it works: 

You MUST be 18+ to participate. If you are sending me a request, then you are agreeing to see mature/explicit content. Your online experience is your own to cultivate and I’m not out here checking I.D.’s. Minors do not interact! 

Pick a prompt from the list & include a character(s)* (see list below)

When you send your request, please include details such as gender (ex: f!reader) and anything else (ex: tattooed reader, long hair, etc).

Send it via my askbox or submission box. 

My limits: I will not, under any circumstance, write non-con or dub con, daddy kinks, A/B/O, and no age play/age gaps, or watersports. 

** Feel free to ask for a character that isn’t from the list, but keep in mind that I might turn it down because I don’t know them/their media and don’t feel like I can do them justice. 

All filled prompts will be filed under #kinktober2022 - I will eventually add this tag to my masterlist once I’m writing stuff. All fics will be Character x Reader, though I won’t use Y/N, because personal preference lol. The character list is organized between familiar/non-familiar. Non-familiar just means I haven’t written for them but I want to.

Requests will be OPEN for the rest of September and likely into October (probably?) I guess I’ll make a separate post for the filled prompts lol 

Character list (familiar): Carmy Berzatto (The Bear), Eleventh Doctor (Doctor Who), Kylo Ren/Ben Solo (Star Wars), Dream/Morpheus (The Sandman), Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) (I feel like I have others so...I’ll add them if I remember). 

Character list (unfamiliar): Matt Murdock (Daredevil), Mikey Berzatto (The Bear), Richie Jermovich (The Bear), Battison (Batman/Robert Pattison), Sheriff Hassan (Midnight Mass), Steve Harrington (Stranger Things). 

PROMPT LIST:  [ There are multiple prompts per day, but you can pick & choose. You don’t have to include all 3. ] 

Face-sitting || Cream-pie || Biting/Hickey

Against a wall || Touched Starved || Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac

Exhibitionism || Hair-pulling || Licking  

Spanking || Reverse Cowgirl || Knife play

Mutual Masturbation || Lap dances || Quiet Sex

Food play || Overstimulation || Deep throating

Roleplay || Sex Toys || Stripping/Strip tease

Slow/Sensual/Soft || Size difference || Cunnilingus

Angry Sex (consensual) || Lingerie || Edging

Praise kink || Gagging || Car Sex

Being recorded || Sleepy sex || Mirror sex

Begging || Dry Humping || Formal Wear

Edging/Orgasm Denial || Blindfolds || Threesome

Temperature Play || Bath/Shower || Swallowing

Somnophilia (consensual)  || Riding || Masturbation

Dirty Talk || Accidental Stimulation || Massaging

Breast worship || Deep Throating || Choking

Mind-control || Hand jobs || Anywhere BUT the bed

Breeding || Overstimulation || Bondage/Tying up  

Vampire/or any Monster AU || Spanking || Phone sex

Candle/Wax Play || Dirty Talk || Fingering

Thigh riding || Praise kink || Nylons/Tights

Window/Balcony Sex || Clothes ripping/partial clothing || Cock warming

Teasing || Doggy Style || Slow/Soft/Sensual

Masks/Anonymous Sex || Blood Kink || Masochism  

Manhandling/Rough || Pregnancy || Ropes

Swallowing || Aftercare || Loss of Virginity

Teasing || Almost getting caught || Facial

Size Kink || Dirty Talk || Drunken/or/Stoned Sex

Praise kink || Against a wall || Blowjob

Wild card/random/writer's choice lol

[raggedy-dxctor]

dating the midnight mass characters as a vampire

pairing(s): father paul, erin greene, sarah gunning & sheriff hassan x gn! reader

content warnings for spoilers, brief mentions of death and minor angst !

father paul

he's obviously the reason you turn in tje first place

he's gonna be there every single minute that you need him

would only let you drink the "angel" blood if you were 100% ok and ready for it

if there's a single crumb of hesitation he will refuse

he's so scared at first in case something goes wrong, he probably goes back on his invitation to drink the blood so many times

he'll be super caring and thoughtful

"hey love how're you feeling?" "how's my beloved feeling today?"

as soon as there's the slightest hint that something is wrong he'll panic and go into protective mode

so proud of you, he could literally never be disappointed in anything that you do after you power through the side affects

"im so proud love, im so glad the lord let us find eachother"

helps you control the hunger

you're eachother's rock through the entire experience

i feel like there's been times where he's very nearly died by the sun creeping up and you've saved him

he scolds you for risking your life but is eternally grateful, and that's not something he wishes to keep secret

his presence is just so comforting

he'll sit next to you, rubbing his thumb comfortingly over your hand

bonus: he lets you lie against his chest because he knows his heartbeat soothes you

erin greene

i feel like she would be absolutely terrified at first

after what happened with riley she's so scared to lose another person that she's fell head over heels for

eventually she'll come around, she'll still hate the fact that you're a vampire bit she'll love you no matter what

she trusts you and knows that you would never burt her or force her to do anything that she didn't agree with so she's 100% comfortable around you, vampire or not

i feel like you probably reassured her right away that your love for her was stronger than any urge

feel like she'd be ready to beat up father paul if she found out how much pain you went through during the process

the absolute best at comforting you

she always knows exactly what to say if you ever start to feel overwhelmed

always happy to hold your hand if you need it, her hands are so soft and warm

probably lets you fall asleep on her lap all the time, she can never face waking you up, it's always nice to see you sleeping peacefully despite recent events

she'll gently play with your hair while you sleep, not so it's noticeable, it's just abreally sweet moment to her so she can't help herself

she lowkey misses having picnics under the sun with you, but she much prefers star gazing

sarah gunning

im not gonna lie at first i think she'd be absolutely terrified

not of you, but for you

she'll try her absolute best to explain it scientifically, but it's just impossible

the idea of vampire is probably always nagging at the back of her mind, bur she's so reluctant to believe it, it's just a story... right?

she eventually forced herself to believe it when you quietly convice her

she's gonna be the absolute best carer you could possibly wish for, she doesn't really know how to help but she absolutely tries her best

"hey love, how you holding up? you feeling ok?"

she's so encouraging and understanding

"i love you y/n, you're so strong"

she won't be scared of you at all, she'll literally let you cuddle up next to you and stroke your hair while you fall asleep on her shoulder

always makes jokes to lighten your mood if you're the type to regret becoming a vampire

like i'm talking super cheesy, probably slightly cringey jokes

sheriff hassan

he's absolutely petrified, i feel like his terror is a mix of erin's and sarah's

he's grown so attatched to you that he couldn't bear loosing you too

but he also wants you to live the perfect life so when all these obstacles are thrown in your way he's absolutely distraught

he gets in a panic a lot which sometimes, but rarely, leads to him snapping, he'll instantly regret it though and apologise

you both know he doesn't mean it and you'll end up reassuring him that you're ok

has defintely threatened to punch or actually has punched father paul when he discovers how painful it was when the angel attacked you

he'll be so caring and even sweeter than usual

he'll always bring you coffee as you can't leave or walk around the house to get it yourself anymore, feel like you don't even have to ask at this point

after a while he he wouldn't blame what happened on anyone except the angel, he absolutely would never blame you and he just thinks father paulbwas deceived

he really enjoys spending his day with you

he's so proud when you tell him everything, like how difficult it was to control the hunger and the painful side effects

"hey love, you're absolutely amazing, i had no idea, you're so strong"

most people would probably assume he would be cautious wih you around his son, but he's not at all

he adores seeing you and ali bond, i dout you guys would tell him about the vampire thing for a while, but when you eventually do ali probably figured it out already

[space-helen]

Saved

Words: 1683

Pairing: Sheriff Hassan x reader

A/N: Spoilers ahead (ofc) I really liked writing this one

Request:  I finished midnight mass the day it came out and this has been going through my head since. Sheriff Hassan x reader where she hasn't been going to mass either and she's with the group at the end and helps save him? Maybe they get away? - Anon

______________________

You splashed the gas over the back of the building knowing Erin was inside and the Sheriff was out the front. 

Dropping the can to the floor you took a couple of steps back and waited as instructed. 

What you didn’t expect to hear was a large bang, a gunshot. Eyes wide you stood and listened, you could hear the murmur of voices.

You knew if you moved in the direction of the voices you’d be dead. Frozen in time you felt your chest heaving, the nights events finally catching up with you.

Eventually snapping out of it, not knowing how much time had passed you reached for your pocket and tried to pull out the lighter, the building should have caught fire by now. 

Hoping no one was inside you opened the lighter and hesitated. Moving your thumb ready to strike the flame a sudden heat and roar of fire had you taking a step back. Was it done?

The original plan was to light it from the back and subtly get away together but the others weren’t around. Something must have gone wrong. 

Not caring about what would happen to you your legs were soon carrying you around the side of the building. The air was thick and tasted like fumes, your eyes went wide as you looked up to see Ali coming towards you supporting his father’s weight.

You continued towards them but stopped a short distance away, not sure of Ali’s motives. “Are you guys?” That’s when you noticed how Hassan was clutching his side.

“Y/N.” Hassan breathed out, his eyes softened and he let out a sigh of relief as he saw you.

“He was shot.” his sons words fell out of this mouth. “I don’t want him to become one of us. He doesn’t deserve it.” Ali shook his head and you could see the regret and fear in his eyes.

You nodded and closed the gap, You looped your arm around Hassan to take Ali’s place. You knew the boy wasn’t going to hurt either of you.

 “I only have until sunrise.” the words were spoken fast, you looked towards the boy and could see the worry in his eyes.

“We know” you whispered. Hassan turned his head and locked his eyes with yours, you could see how full of sadness they were.

There was a silent discussion between the three of you to make the next decision. Propping Hassan up against a tree you took a look at the gunshot wound as Ali watched. 

The wound was red with blood but relatively clean and looked to be a through and through on a rather fleshy part, a lucky position to be shot. You weren’t an expert at first aid but you knew enough to know that he’d live as long as it was kept clean and pressure on it was maintained.

You pulled the backpack off your back and began to rummage through it. As a team you’d gathered any supplies you could find before the town went up in flames. It didn’t take you long to pull out the first aid supplies you’d need.

“This is going to hurt.” you warned the man.

“I can handle it.” his eyes sparkled as he gave you a weak smile.

Taking a damp piece of gauze you began to dab the wound gently and the man let out a yelp. Ali was at his side in seconds and offered his hand to his father. The love between the two of them overwhelming and you felt tears well in your eyes at what was soon to happen.

You made quick work of cleaning and wrapping up the wound tightly before helping the man stand back up and supporting his weight again so you could make a move on. 

Looking up at the sky you could see it changing colour, a warning of the sunrise about to come.

The three of you had soon made it to the beach. Hassan practically flopped into the sand. The three of you sat side by side for a second just in the presence of each other you breathed in the sea air and watched the familiar waves before you.

Seeing the sky change colour even more you began to stand “I’ll give the two of you some space.”

A pressure on your wrist had you stopping. “You can stay.”

Hassan’s eyes were filled with sadness and pleading, you could almost sense that he wanted someone there with him after what was to come. You looked towards his son to make sure he was ok with it as well, the boy’s nod had you taking your seat in coarse the sand again.

There was another silent exchange of words beside you between the two men. You stared at the sunset and could see movement beside you out of the corner of your eye.

Turning your head the sight beside you had the tears welling up in your eyes, they were praying. Looking forward to the sun again you let the tears fall and you wiped them away with the back of your hand.

You’d become close to the sheriff over the past couple of months since you’d been here and you knew just how much he loved his son. Ali was his everything. You hadn’t got to know his son as well but you felt the sadness of losing him. 

Once the tears started they wouldn’t stop. The little island you’d originally hated had grown on you and had become something you loved. Everything was in ruins. You thought about what everything could have been if Mass hadn’t happened tonight. You thought about all of your friends who were dead or soon to be. 

More movement slightly further down the beach had you turning towards it. Focussing your eyes you could see Beverly watching Ali and Hassan praying for a second. You watched her actions and she was soon digging into the sand with her hands.

You could feel the sunrise coming. Taking one last look at Ali and Hassan you watched as the boy put his hand on his father. 

Hassan placed one of his hands on top of his sons and reached for your hand with the other one to create a chain between the three of you. Looking towards his son he let out a sob and you could see his body shaking with tears.

As the sun came up the boy burst into flames and was soon ash. The man let out a strangled cry before leaning forward into the ash of his son. Placing his hand in it he silently cried as he clung onto your hand. 

You don’t know how long the two of you were there. You’d ended up with your arms wrapped around the man as he cried into your shoulder and you consoled him.

He eventually pulled away when his sobs had subsided. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to be.” 

“What now?” the two of you looked out onto the water.

“We get onto the second boat Warren said he’d leave us. It’s only small but with the two of us I think we’ll be ok.”

The man nodded “Do you think we’ll make it?”

“We have to try. We didn’t come this far to not make it. We can’t leave Warren and Leeza alone out there.”

“You’re right.” the man wiped at his face again. 

You gave the mans hand a reassuring squeeze and he gave you the weakest smile. He looked down at his son’s ashes for a second and began to make a hole in the ground. Moving to your knees you helped the man dig the hole. He gently pushed the remaining ashes into the hole and spoke some parting words and prayer as you both covered it over with sand.

Although, still obviously in pain Hassan had gathered more strength and was able to walk without your support, albeit slow, the two of you soon came across the last remaining boat.

“Have you ever been in a boat?” you asked as the two of you moved it to the shoreline

“Once or twice.” he admitted

You took off your backpack and placed it into the boat. Helping the injured man into it he went to sit down near the oars.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Y/N please let me.”

“You’re injured and I’m relatively uninjured so I’m not letting you.”

The man had no strength to argue and moved away, you allowed him to take a seat and get comfy before gently pushing the boat until it hit slightly deeper water and clambering inside. 

You began to row and gradually moved the boat pretty far away from the land.

“Look” 

You stopped rowing and turned, the island was all lit up with orange flames as it burnt. Your eyes didn’t linger for long, and you soon turned back to Hassan.

“Do you think anyone will believe us?”

The man thought it over in his head “Probably not.”

You nodded “I have to admit I barely believed it when Erin told me. Even before she told me I searched for every explanation possible for all of the miracles. At least Leeza’s and Warren’s blood should help support us”

“It’s one twisted story.” the two of you were silent again.

The island was long gone from view and that’s when Hassan broke the silence again. 

“Thank you Y/N.”

“There’s no need.”

“Without you I would still be on that island, maybe even dead.”

Letting go of the oars you leant forward and placed a hand on Hassan’s arm, his eyes came up to yours and you gave him a sad smile. Allowing the water to carry the boat you reached towards the backpack and opened it up. Pulling out a bottle of water you handed it to the man. You were unsure if you should say what you wanted to but after what’d happened, you really had nothing to lose.

“Without you, I would have given up hope entirely so it looks like we saved each other.”

Tag List: (open)

Midnight Mass:

Sheriff Hassan:

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Closing the Distance

Sheriff Hassan x Reader

Author's Note: I'm sorry its bad. I'm sorry this is the first I've written in this fandom. Just sorry all 'round.

Summary: Devastating news brings Sheriff Hassan and his neighbor closer together.

Warnings: Mentions of terminal illness, grief and death, brief mentions of SMUT

Crockett is small. Small enough for someone to walk from one end to the next in less than a day, small everyone to know each other by name, small enough for gossip to spread faster wildfire. It's part of why Hassan keeps his head down and his nose out of everyone’s business; small towns are close knit, they stick together, and he's already an outcast. So unless someone is explicitly breaking the law or being a public nuisance, Hassan keeps his distance. 

Even if it's hard sometimes. Even if his cute neighbor brings over dinner for him and Ali when she cooks extra or waves at him when he's getting into his car in the morning while she's having coffee on the porch. Even if he does find himself wanting to prolong their conversation when he bumps into her while picking up groceries. Hassan keeps his distance, because even if Y/n has only lived on the island for a year longer than he has, she is not an outcast.

From the bits and pieces he's been able to pick up, Y/n’s mother grew up there and then their family spent most of her summers as a child on the island. In the same quaint house across the street from his, with weather beaten porch steps, a white French door guarded by thin yellow curtains and a kitchen window that faces the street. She moved there just after her grandmother passed and her grandfather fell ill. Everyone knows her, everyone likes her, not that he can blame them – even Bev likes her, though he doubts the feeling is mutual. And that's why Hassan keeps his distance; even Y/n isn't one of them, she's one of theirs. 

So he keeps his distance.

Until he gets home from work one Friday evening just in time to see Y/n walking Sarah to her car. Before she gets in, they spend another couple minutes talking and while he doesn't want to sit in his car and stare, there's something about the dimness in her expression and the invisible weight pressing her shoulders into a solemn, downward curve that holds him there. Hassan can't recall ever seeing her like that – tired, sure, it would be impossible to be a caregiver and not feel the strain of it. But this evening is different, it's more than tired. He recognizes that look; that was how he looked when his wife reached her end. 

Hassan waits until Sarah drives off before getting out of his own car. Y/n is still standing on the sidewalk, arms hugging herself and eyes cast in the direction of the receding car. She isn't dressed to be outside, denim shorts and a thin band tee are hardly enough to combat the October chill, especially when it's been raining on and off all day, and that's how he knows she's probably avoiding heading back in. And he simply can't stand to retreat to his own house when she's looking like she's about to fall apart. 

So Hassan calls out to her. 

“Hey neighbor,” it's just enough to beckon her attention, and his tone, he hopes, gives nothing away. 

“Sheriff,” as Y/n turns to him, she tries to smile but her lips quiver and the effort doesn't reach her eyes. “Hey,” her voice cracks ever so slightly and he suddenly feels guilty about intruding on what might have been a private moment. “How are you?”

Of course she asks how he's doing when she's the one on the verge of tears. 

“Doin’ alright,” he shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “you?”

Before anything leaves her lips, which she's pressed into a thin line, Y/n nods stiffly. “I'm….” She sniffles and Hassan steps closer until he's standing where Sarah's car had been parked. “I'm okay,” she manages softly, adverting her gaze to their feet. 

He doesn't know what prompts him – his urge to comfort her or the fact that he'd wished someone had done that for him – but Hassan reaches out to lay a hand on her shoulder, and gives it an affectionate squeeze. “You sure?”

And he swears that's like slipping the pin out of the grenade. Or more accurately, throwing a pebble at a cracked window; the tiny thing that shatters something already so fragile. 

A sob tumbles past her lips and without thinking, he pulls her against him. She's small enough for her head to settle against the center of his chest while he smooths his hand over her hair. Hassan knows all too well that now isn't the time for him to marvel at how well she fits in his arms, like they're two puzzle pieces just snapping into place. Despite his efforts though, the thought lingers in the back of his mind.

“He's dying,” she cries, words muffled as she keeps her face pressed to his chest, “He's dying and there's nothing else I can do for him.”

Her words make him hold her tighter, as if he's trying to keep her pieces from scattering. “I'm so sorry,” is the only thing he offers. All other words of sympathy and comfort feel wrong in the moment, so they stay like that and Hassan holds her until loud cries turn to slow tears. In fact, it isn't even him that pulls away – if it were up to him, he'd hold her until the next morning, longer if she needs it. 

“God,” wiping her cheeks hastily, Y/n sniffles, continuing bashfully, “Sorry about that. I bet you're never gonna ask anyone how they're doing ever again.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself,” he counters dismissively, “is there anything I can do?” 

Her smile, though genuine, is small and sad. “You've already done a lot,” Y/n assures him, “but maybe you could come in for coffee? If you have time,” she adds hastily.

He really had meant to come home and make dinner, hopefully get Ali to tell him about his day, but there's half a pizza in the fridge and he's pretty sure his son is gonna make up an excuse to not have dinner with him, the way he does every evening. Besides, he doesn't want to leave Y/n alone and another half hour can't hurt. “Coffee sounds good.”

Despite being embarrassed about her little meltdown, Y/n is enormously grateful that Hassan agrees to come in for coffee – and it's not even because of that silly little school girl crush she's been nursing since the day they met. It's because when it's just her and her grandfather in the house, she can hear his laboured breathing even in the rooms furthest from his bedroom and she's hoping that talking to the sheriff will distract her a little. 

For just a few minutes, Y/n wants to pretend that the man who's wrapped up in some of her fondest memories isn't slipping away and Sarah hasn't just told her to start making arrangements. 

His steps are soft as he follows her into the kitchen, and it takes getting there for her to remember that she's left a tray with food and medication on the table. “Shit,” she hisses softly, going to collect it off the small table.

“It's alright if you have to take that up,” Hassan says, halting in the doorway, “I can wait or….”

“No,” Y/n shakes her head as she empties a small bowl of rice cereal into the trash before grabbing a smaller bowl of applesauce to do the same with that, “This is from breakfast. He wouldn't eat it. Didn't eat dinner last night and….” When her voice starts shaking, Y/n stops herself and sets the dishes in the sink. Washing off her hands, she fixes her attention on the coffee maker. It's a nice one, the kind that comes with a milk frother. It's one of the few things that she'd brought from her apartment in the city to make life in Crockett a little more comfortable. “How do you take it?” She asks, slipping a mug into the designated place. 

“Black, two sugars,” he returns, now standing near the table with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He makes the space look small, Y/n thinks, and on a regular day it's one of the things she fancies about him. He's so big, capable of being incredibly imposing and yet the only thing she ever feels in his presence is safe. And it's not because of his uniform or the fact that he's a man of the law, it's because there's a softness about Hassan that makes her yearn to be close to him. 

It doesn't matter what everyone says about him, Y/n just doesn't see it. He doesn't say a lot, probably even less to her than everyone else on the island, but there's a kindness in his very rare smile and a sadness in his eyes that she wishes she could help with.

“We can talk about it, if you want,” Hassan offers as Y/n stirs two teaspoons of sugar into his coffee.

When Y/n turns to hand him the ceramic mug, she encourages him to sit before returning to the machine and it takes a couple minutes more to sort her thoughts out enough to address his suggestion. “I don't know if there is anything to talk about,” she admits, thumb nail flicking the edge of the tile countertop, “I knew he was terminal when I got here. It was never a matter of if, it was when. But now that its….when, I feel like it's too soon, you know?”

Hassan nods, and she knows that his agreement isn't just surface level empathy – she's heard about his wife from the gossipy folks in town. “I keep reading about all these people who grieve their parents, spouses…. grandparents before they die, because they know it's happening,” Y/n goes on, and at this point, she's rambling in hopes of making sense of her experience, “but it was never like that for me. Until now. I mean I knew he was gonna….” She can't even bring herself to say the words. 

“But you didn't think it would be like this,” it's like he's taken the words right out of her mind when he says them. “You thought he'd just go to sleep one night, it would happen and then it would be over.”

“Yeah, exactly,” collecting her mug, Y/n assumes the chair closest to Hassan, “but this is so different. He's in pain, he won't eat, barely drinks water. I know that it's best for him, so he can be…..at peace again,” her eyes start welling up again, and much to her surprise, he reaches over and rests his free hand over. Y/n can count one hand the amount of times he's touched her. Four times. 

He shook her hand when they first met and the three other times had happened that very evening.

Admittedly, it's a little confusing; she's spent so long convinced that he doesn't like her that it's hard to believe that him sitting in her kitchen isn't anything more than pity. But that hug didn't feel like pity and the sincerity in his eyes doesn't feel like that either. His thumb is caressing the side of her wrist, the roughness of his finger contrasting with the softness of his skin. 

“I understand,” he determines quietly, “I know it doesn't help-”

“It does, you have no idea how much you've helped. Just by being here.” Y/n leans in a little, and Hassan cups her cheek. 

“You shouldn't have to go through this alone,” he ghosts the apple of her cheek, “you're there for everyone, someone should be here for you.”

Her hand slides down the back of his forearm, stopping near his elbow. “I'm….” She goes to say glad, but its the wrong word, “grateful it's you. So thank you.”

“‘Course,” Hassan hums, before searching her eyes when she inches closer, “What?”

Y/n knows she's taking a pretty big risk, he's never shown any interest in her like that and she isn't quite sure that her next request has anything to do with her feelings for him. But she asks anyway. “What if I wanted to forget….just for a little while.” She leans in closer, and that time, he does too.

They're so close that Y/n can smell bits of Crockett's salty air mingling with a very subtle cologne. So close that it just takes a couple inches forward on her part for their lips to meet. He tastes like coffee, and his gray flecked beard scratches her face in the most enthralling way. Surprisingly, he reciprocates; his other hand reaches for the back of her neck as he deeps the kiss. 

Clumsily, Y/n fumbles out of her chair and into his lap, his worn jeans rubbing against her exposed thighs. The chair scrapes along the hardwood floor when he tries to get it a couple inches away from the table, but neither of them pay any mind to the noise. His large palm inches down her back to eventually slips under the hem of her t-shirt while Y/n starts fiddling with the top button of his uniform. 

“Y/n,” he mumbles her name as she pops the second button. Her reply is a hum and an attempt to press her lips to his a bit harder. The bulge in his jeans is firm against her thigh, encouraging her to suggestively grind against his crotch. “Y/n,” that time, Hassan tears his lips from hers and swiftly grabs both her wrists in on his hands, while the other stays firmly on her back – on the outside of her t-shirt. 

“You don't want to?” Because of course, on top of overwhelming grief, she has to deal with the shame rejection after she tries to jump her neighbor's bones.

“Trust me,” he heaves, glancing down between them. She can still feel his hard on through his jeans and the thought of what it might feel like without restraint causes her to shift in anticipation. “I want to. But I don't think you want to,” and before she can get an argument in, he cuts her off, “At least, not like this.”

Hassan lets her wrists go in favor of cupping her face with both hands. Leaning in until their foreheads meet, he sighs heavily. “Whatever this could be shouldn't start because you're running away from feeling something difficult.”

“I'm not-” she tries to argue, but her voice breaks, “you’re right.”

“Just….give yourself some time. And when this is over, and you're really ready – and if you still want this – I'll be waiting.” That time, when their mouths meet, the kiss is more gentle. It isn't fueled by passion or haste, it's a promise. 

When the break, Y/n slides out of his lap and goes to lean on the lip of the sink. Hiding her face in her hands, she groans loudly, “God,” she bemoans, “I feel so stupid.”

A weaker spot in the old floor creaks ever so slightly as Hassan stands and closes the short distance in a couple long strides. “Don't be,” he weans her hands off her face, holding them so he can caress her knuckles, “honestly, if you weren't crying thirty minutes ago no one would be able to pry me off you.”

His words rouse a quiet chuckle and Y/n spends another handful of seconds staring at their joined hands. “I'm gonna hold you to that,” she affirms quietly.

Hassan gives her hands a squeeze, “I'd hope so,” he glaces backwards at the window. It's starting to get dark out and there are a couple lights on over at his place, signaling that Ali is home. “I should…”

“Of course,” Y/n nods, “Yeah.”

His hands gently cup her neck and she curves her fingers over his wrists, thumbs absently stroking his skin. “If you need anything,” he lowers his head, so close the tips of their noses are almost touch, “you know where to find me.” 

After a bit of hesitance, Hassan kisses her one last time before finally letting her hands go and turning to leave. In the doorway, he turns to offer her a short wave and sad, lopsided smile before continuing towards the front door. Meanwhile, Y/n lingers at the sink, toying with her nails even as the front door clicks shut. Through the window, she watches Hassan cross the street and stroll up the front before disappearing into his house. 

And just like that, she can hear the wheezing again, and the sound of it causes her to elicit a shuddered breath. Despite her talk with the sheriff, Y/n is still unnerved by what may come within the next few days, but for the first time she isn't entirely unsure of what comes next. For a while, she'd been wondering what would come after; her grandfather is the only thing tying her to the island, but the thought of going back to the city is unnerving. Maybe now she won't have to though, at least, not for a little while longer. 

[space-helen]

Embrace

Words: 830

Pairing: Sheriff Hassan x Reader

A/N: I still love this man so much.

Request:  Helen, my dear friend, if requests are still open could I maybe request something??? Maybe a Sheriff Hassan x reader were he just bear hugs the reader when she's sad. I would love to hug him tbh.  - @morganofthecoves1

______________________

You’d woken up with the general feeling of sadness. Work and the day that followed had it growing. Walking out of your house you could see that the day was coming to a close, night drawing in slowly as the sky changed colour. 

Your head hurt and you pulled your jacket around you tighter as you made your way towards the one person that you knew could make you feel better. You hadn’t gone to him earlier in the day not wanting to bother him and distract him from work knowing that he would have abandoned it for you.

You stepped inside the store and quickly found yourself walking into his office fairly quickly but he was nowhere to be seen.

Sitting down in his chair you pulled it close to his desk and sat back in it, you smiled as you looked at the items strewn across his desk, an organised mess.

It was no secret to the island that the two of you had been seeing each other in some capacity and it never had been. The relationship had blossomed naturally and with strength like no other.

The door creaking open had you looking up. The man jumped slightly when he saw you behind his desk not expecting you in there.

“Y/N!” he beamed as he closed the door behind you.

You gave the man a weak smile “How was your day.”

He placed his hands on his hips and smiled, just happy to see you “It’s been ok.” he paused when he realised something was off. Removing his hands from his hips he moved towards the chair opposite you and used his hands to lean on it. “What’s wrong Honey?”

“Nothing it’s ok” you waved off.

“Something is I can tell.” his eyes were soft when he looked at you.

You went quiet for a second you couldn’t not give him an explanation when he looked at you like that. “I just woke up feeling a little sad and then work had me down and I felt like I kept messing up and that I’m not good at my job.” you could feel the tears welling up but didn’t let them fall “I just feel sad y’know?” you made a gesture with your hands and Hassan could hear your voice faltering.

“I know I know,” his voice was soft as he made his way around the desk. Coming up behind you he bent over and wrapped his hands around you and rested his chin on your shoulder, hugging you tightly to him.

You reached up and put your hands on his arms in an attempt to try and hug him back somewhat. You felt a tear run down your cheek and the man pulled his head from your shoulder. Gently he brought his thumb to your cheek and wiped it away.

You moved in his arms and he took it as a sign to let go briefly, allowing you to be able to stand up and wrap your arms around his middle. Your arms weaved under his denim jacket and you felt the soft touch of his shirt.

The man gave you a sweet tender kiss on your forehead before you rested your head against his chest and he wrapped his arms around you again. 

The embrace was warm and safe. You happily breathed in his scent that you’d become so familiar with and you felt the weight of his head on top of yours as he rested it there.

You stood in his arms for what felt like an eternity before the door to the room opened and he released his hold. He didn’t want to let go but he knew it’d be unprofessional to speak to someone with his arms still around you.

Letting go you turned to see Ali in the doorway as Hassan's arm stayed around your waist somewhat

“Dad I’m going to go on a bike ride I might be back late.” the boy spoke from where he stood.

“Do I not even get a hello?” the man placed his other free hand on his hip

“Hi Dad.” he shrugged before looking at you and giving you a smile “Hi Y/N.”

Hassan let out a gruff laugh at the boy’s actions “Alright, you can go but don’t be too late alright? Be safe.”

“I will.” he grabbed the door handle in his hand “I’ll see you both later” and with that he was gone, closing the door behind him as he went.

The man tightened his grip around you and placed a quick kiss to the top of your head before releasing you. He quickly sifted through the paperwork on his desk and switched off the light in the room.

“Let’s go home.” he offered you his hand.

You smiled and closed the gap taking his warm hand in your own. He gently brushed his thumb over the back of your hand and gave you a sweet smile in return.

Tag List: (open)

Sheriff Hassan:

Midnight Mass:

[space-helen]

Apples

Words: 1540

Pairing: Sheriff Hassan x Reader

A/N: so this is a little late… sorry so uhm yeah I made this autumn/winter esque

Request:  Maybe a Sheriff Hassan x Reader going do some fun autumn activities like apple picking or making s'mores? :) - Anon

______________________

There wasn’t much to do on Crockett island but you always found a way to entertain yourself and it made you cherish the simpler things in life more.

You’d never expected to be staying on the island this long. Yet everything lately had taken you by surprise. The biggest thing? Ending up in a relationship with the Sheriff of the island.

Walking hand in hand with the man and his hand warming yours you soon found the small section of apple trees in the woods.

“Are you even sure they’re ok to eat?” 

“Erin said she always used to as a kid. I’m sure they’re fine.”

“If you say so.” the man held open a bag as you picked some apples from the lower hanging branches. 

“What about this one?” you presented the man an apple.

“Yeah that looks good.”

“This?” you knew what his answer was going to be, the apple looked dirty and had holes in.

“Y/N absolutely not are you trying to get us sick?”

You shrugged and tossed the apple to the side. Analysing the tree again you circled it a couple of times to try and find more to pick.

“It looks like there’s some up top” the man pointed high up in the tree.

Smiling you walked up to him, taking the bag of apples from his hands you placed it next to the tree trunk. “Give me a boost.”

The man let out a laugh “Really?”

You nodded “If you want some good apples, give me a boost.”

The man teased you by rolling his eyes and sighed “If you insist. Want to sit on my shoulders or for me to give you a leg up?”

“Shoulders sound more secure.”

The man crouched down for you to climb on. Laughing the entire time you held on tightly as he rose to his full height echoing your laughs.

“The more you laugh the more you make me laugh and the less stable I am.”

“Alright alright.” you tried to calm yourself down. “Take a couple steps towards the tree.” the man happily did as you asked as his hands found your legs to keep you supported. Plucking some apples off the tree you passed them down to him.

Moving one of his hands from your leg he collected the apples and gently tossed them in the direction of the bag.

“I’m ready to come down now.” 

“Oh really?” 

“Yes.” you leant forward and pecked the man on the cheek “Please”

Smiling he turned his head to where yours now was and gently placed a kiss on your lips before crouching down and allowing you to climb off.

“What’s the plan with the apples anyway?”

“I guess I’ll make you and Ali an apple pie.” you shrugged and picked up the bag. Turning back to the man you could see a small smile pulling at his lips. “What?”

“You just have a little something in your hair.” the man stepped towards you and quickly pulled out a couple of leaves. 

Taking his hand the two of you walked back to his place. The journey was cold but you knew it’d just make the warmth of indoors feel even better.

Opening his front door he let you walk in first, the man called for his son but had no reply “I guess he’s out.”

He shrugged off his denim jacket and hung it up before taking yours and hanging it up next to his.

The chill of the house hit you both. Going to the nearest radiator the man gently placed his hand on it “The damn thing hasn’t kicked in again.” he grumbled before moving through the house out of view.

Moving through to the kitchen you pulled out a bowl and some towels. Washing the apples in the sink you dried them and placed them in the bowl, assessing each as you went. Once completed you filled two glasses of water and moved into the living area.

Placing the glasses down you could hear the man walking around the house. Taking a seat on the sofa you shivered as you felt the chill again.

“Here.” you jumped slightly not realising the man was in the room with you.

You turned and accepted what the man was offering you before he disappeared again. Unfolding the thick large blanket you wrapped it around yourself. Yes the material was slightly itchy but you wanted the warmth right now.

You could hear the man’s footsteps behind you but didn’t turn towards him.

Before you knew it you felt the couch dip beside you. Turning in the little cocoon you’d created you watched the man place two mugs in front of you before sitting back. 

“I made us both some hot chocolate.”

“I didn’t think I could love you any more.” your hands broke out of the shelter you’d made and reached for the mug. Clasping your hands around it, you brought it to you.

The man smiled as he watched you “Cold Y/N?”

“I think it’s caught up with me.”

“Mhm” the mans eyes sparkled as you met them. “Since you’ve done such as great job at warming up the blanket can I have some?”

You felt yourself shiver at the prospect of the cold chill hitting you again. 

“You can but you have to find a way to unwarp this mess without me getting cold.”

“Challenge accepted.” the man began to work on the mess you’d created with the blanket and eventually the two of you were both covered by it. He opened his arms and beckoned you into his side, happily accepting you allowed the man to share his body heat with you and he hugged you close under the blanket.

The man poked his hand from under the blanket to reach for the remote, he turned on the TV and let whatever came on play as he quickly let his hand retreat to the warmth under the blanket.

Feeling you shiver he rubbed your arm to try and encourage some heat. 

“Thank you.”

The man reached out of the warmth and grabbed your hot drink he handed it to you before picking up his own. The cold room had made it cool to a drinkable temperature quickly and the two of you had soon finished the drinks.

Cuddling back up together under the blanket you mindlessly watched the trash TV on in front of you for a while you may have even fallen asleep during that time but you couldn’t be sure.

The opening of the front door had the two of you snapping back to reality.

“Hey Dad. Y/N. It’s cold in here isn’t it?” you recognised the boy's voice instantly.

Hassan and yourself greeted the boy at the same time, both turning towards him as you did so. You expected the man beside you to unwrap his arms from you but he hugged you closer.

The boy moved through the house as he spoke “I’m just here to grab some things and change. I’m going out again with Warren.”

Hassan looked towards his son and you peeped over the back of the couch towards him as well.

“Can you be back for tonight?” 

“Like every night?” the boy said sarcastically and it made a smile pull on your lips.

“I mean for dinner.” Hassan matched his sons tone

“Oh so also like always.”

Hassan grumbled “Yeah”

“Any reason why?”

“I thought we could all make some smores together. I picked up the things yesterday.” the man looked at you to check it was ok and you nodded.

“You know I love a good smore.” You could tell he was interested but preoccupied.

“Alright be back at a decent time. Stay safe.”

The boy waved at you both as he exited the house “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.” you waved back at the boy.

The two of you stared at the door for a second. “He may be growing up but it’s nice to know he’ll still make time for smores.” 

You laughed at the man's comment as he pulled you close again. “I think everyone can make time for them.”

The man chuckled and picked up the TV remote “We should probably find something less mind numbing to watch.”

“Wishful thinking there. All the other channels have bad reception, you know that.”

“I could go and get some DVDs out but that means moving from under the blanket.”

You thought about losing the man's warmth “Yeah lets not do that.”

You clung to the man tighter as he flicked through the channels. Finding another channel with decent quality reception he let the bad movie play. Placing the remote down he pulled you towards him and placed another kiss to the top of your head.

He knew some people on the island would complain that he took the day off but he didn’t regret it one bit. He’d spent a lot of time with you over the past couple months but it was mainly before or after work. 

A smile pulled on his lips as he felt you fully relax into him. He couldn’t wait to spend more days like this with you, time off was about to become more frequent.

Tag List: (open) All Midnight Mass:

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