#sherriff hassan el-shabbaz x reader

[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.