cptn-sgrogers - Tumblr blog

cptn-sgrogers · 4 months ago

Note

🖤 flowers left on your kitchen counter from your secret admirer (stalker)- Lee bodecker, that fine mf

private indecency

pairing: soft!dark lee bodecker x curvy!reader

warnings: stalking. b&e. manipulation. a hint of misogyny? gaslighting. heavy dubcon. smut. insecurities. a mean lady makes reader sad. loss of virginity. talk of saving oneself for marriage. 18+ only. if something needs to be tagged pls let me know.

words: 12.6k (i’m so sorry)

notes: the absolute roller coaster this was 🥲 not only did it take me nearly three and a half months but the original version that was almost done last month was erased when my laptop updated without me saving it so i had to start all over lolll. all i can say is i hope it was worth the wait. thank you, anon for sending this in and thank you to @wildflwrdarlin for relating that one horny post to lee and giving me even more inspo for this lol 🥴🖤

thank you in advance for reading. i hope you guys enjoy. pls leave your thoughts! reblogs and comments are more than welcome and always so appreciated!

You let out a heavy sigh as you push open the door to your apartment and hurry inside, shaking the rain off your jacket before hanging it up and kicking off your heels.

It's dark all around you until you get further in, the glow of your stove light illuminating some of the small hallway.

You furrow your brows, had you left that on earlier?

As you go to enter the kitchen, the humming sound of your heater running suddenly registers. You definitely hadn't set the unit before you left for your interview.

You stop where you are, your breath stilling as you listen to the ambient sounds of your home, eyes darting side to side in the dark. You're silent and waiting. For what, you aren't entirely sure.

"Hello?" you call out into the void, your voice meek and weary, silently praying to not receive a response.

A beat.

Nothing.

Slowly you begin to move, bypassing the kitchen and instead making your way to the thermostat.

At the entryway of the living room, you hesitate for a second, bracing yourself before flicking on the light.

Your eyes scan the room.

It’s empty.

You release a breath you weren't aware you'd been holding as you shake your head, scoffing at yourself. You raise a hand and rub at your face as your rigid posture relaxes slightly.

As you get to the thermostat, you read the temperature; feeling uneasy as you see the heat is in fact switched on. You can make that make sense, though. You had turned the heater on this morning, and the temperature was still set the same... but you were so sure you'd turned it off when the apartment had gotten warm enough for you.

You turn, looking around the room once more and finding nothing amiss. You worry your lip as you think back to the past couple months since you'd moved in.

Everything that’s happened...

The mysterious gift that had been left in front of your door with no note, the one you'd tried to write off as a “welcome” gift from your less than friendly neighbors.

The chilling way you'd felt watched in your bedroom at night.

The flash of light you were convinced was from a camera that came through your window as you were dressing for bed one evening. It'd spurred you into getting fuller curtains the very next day and even going so far as to call the police.

The sheriff had been nice enough over the phone. A little gruff, but you were grateful he hadn't completely written you off as crazy at the time.

He even stopped by to check on you later that day, making sure everything was alright. He'd admonished you lightly for having your curtains open for anyone to see to begin with, but followed up with his assurance that he wouldn't let any other peeping toms or creeps get so much as a glance at you.

He'd left you with the direct number to his office and an order to call him anytime you thought someone might be lurking around or trying to mess with you.

The sincerity in his voice had calmed you and you felt better for having let him take a look around after he told you he wanted to make sure everything was secure.

With his confidence that all your windows were fine, safely locked tight and that your door was sturdy, you thanked him for coming by and showed him out.

It wasn't until about a week later that you began to worry again that someone was watching you. Worse, you started to fear that someone might actually have access to your apartment.

It was late at night when you were woken up by the strange sound. It took you a second to try and place what it was you were hearing but you finally did. You were certain.

You knew what that sound was.

It was as if someone was creeping down your hall, the tell-tale creaking of the floorboards in the otherwise quiet of the night giving them away.

Your heart was racing, threatening to burst out of your chest as you tried to keep your breathing as quiet as you could. You were terrified to say the least. You kept your eyes squeezed shut and pulled your comforter over your face, trying and failing to convince yourself you were only hearing things. Or it was just a bad dream that felt all too real.. It got quiet soon after, no noise aside from your breathing could be heard. Still, you stayed hidden beneath the covers. You felt safer under them, like a kid hiding from the monster in the closet. Whatever it was, it couldn’t get you under here.

Somewhere during the night, your exhaustion won out and you finally fell back asleep.

The next morning you decided to prove to yourself that there was no way someone could have been inside. You checked all of your windows - locked shut. Your front door was locked, too; just as it had been when you'd gone to sleep the night prior.

No one else had a key to your apartment.

At the thought, you turned to eye the spare key you'd left on the small entryway table, having had no one to give it to in case of emergencies.

Only now, it was no longer in its spot.

You sent yourself into a frenzy trying to find it. You hadn't moved it. You always kept it right there.

Your mind raced with all of the possibilities of where it could have gone, who could have taken it, if someone truly had.

The apartment manager, the electrician, the movers, the repair man, the plumber? Your gut told you it wasn't any of them, but you had no inkling to who else it could possibly be. All you knew for fact was that the key was gone. You couldn't prove someone had been inside with just that, but you thought you should at least make a record of what you heard that night and the missing key. You needed to tell someone.

You didn't want to seem crazy, so you avoided calling the sheriff right away. After all, it had only been a few days since you had him at your home telling you everything was secure and you'd be alright.. Though he had also insisted you call if you felt something was wrong.

You finally decided on going down to the station in person. You baked him a batch of chocolate chip cookies as a thank you for his help and you hoped you'd get the nerve to relay your fears about what you thought was going on at your place once he was in front of you.

--------

You followed the instructions the petite woman at the front desk had given you to get to the Sheriff's office; the tray of cookies you brought with you held tightly in your hands from your nervousness - and the embarrassment that still burned at you from the interaction with the pretty blonde.

You chided yourself as you played the moment over and over while slowly making your way down the long hall, your head hanging low as you tried to avoid drawing any attention to yourself. As you looked down, you were struck with what a terrible dress you'd worn. You probably looked like a complete fool, that's why she'd looked at you the way she had..

You should've kept your silly mouth shut. Every time you'd tried to make friends since moving to this town, you'd been met with nothing but rude or flat responses from the women your age - you didn't know why you thought this time would be different.

You'd offered her a cookie, smiling kindly after thanking her for her help. She eyed you with a raised brow, looking you up and down - her stare causing a lump to form in your throat as you felt yourself try to shrink away from her unnecessarily harsh gaze.

"You bake a lot, don't you," she said, not a question, more like she was stating a fact she wanted you to feel ashamed of. You didn’t respond, you weren’t sure how to. "No cookies for me," she turned back to face the phone on her desk before she side-eyed you and continued, "gotta stay trim. Don't wanna lose my figure."

You felt your skin heat up as you got her meaning. You swallowed hard as you looked away from her, wrapping the tray back up and meekly thanking her once more before you started walking away.

When you finally got to the Sheriff's door, far away from the desks of the deputies and other officers, you paused as you thought you heard a pained grunt on the other side. You worried for him at the sound, forgetting your nervousness as you knocked softly on the door. "Sheriff Bodecker?" you called just loud enough so you'd be sure he could hear you.

It was a tense moment before he responded.

"Just a second," his husky voice sounded. You heard some shuffling and a jingle, opting to take a step back so you weren't right in front of the door when he opened it.

It was longer than a few seconds, but you waited patiently, if not a bit fidgety, for him.

He had a scowl marring his handsome face as he pulled the door open, and he looked a little huffy, clearly perturbed at the disturbance. When his eyes met yours, however, his features softened; he seemed surprised to find it was you. "Sweetheart. Wasn't expecting to see you here," he said, his voice a little rough as his eyes roved over you.

"Are you alright, Sheriff?" you asked as he looked at you.

His brow furrowed at the question, "'M'fine, darlin'. Are you?"

"Sorry, I- uh. I thought I heard.. well, I guess I'm not sure what I heard," you shook your head at yourself before meeting his gaze again, "I've been feeling a little out of my head these days," you laughed humorlessly at yourself. "Anyway, I just wanted to come by and give you these," you presented the tray to him, "as a thank you for last week. They're homemade," you added with a smile - though it quickly fell as you were reminded of the condescending comment about your baking habits you'd received earlier.

You stood before him, idling for a moment before continuing, "I also was wondering, if you aren't busy or anything, if maybe you had some time to talk."

The sheriff nodded in understanding. "Come on in," he instructed, stepping aside to let you pass him as you entered the office. "Take a seat right here," he said as he pulled a chair closer to his desk for you.

You sat with the tray of cookies in your lap as you watched him take his seat across from you.

"Those sure smell good," he said, nodding to the treats. You couldn't help your smile as you handed the tray to him. He pulled off the foil and took one and you watched as he took a bite.

A brighter smile found its way to your lips when he hummed in approval.

"Damn good," he praised. "Have you tried one for yourself?"

"Oh, uh, no," you laughed lightly with a shake of your head.

"Here," he offered. You looked at the cookie he held out to you. It did smell good, and they were still warm from being covered in the foil. You believed him when he said they were good, but the girl from the front desk's words sounded in your head again, making you feel uneasy even considering taking a bite. God, you hadn’t felt so self conscious since high school.

You swallowed thickly, another shake of your head as a pathetically see through smile played on your painted lips. "Thank you, Sheriff, but I shouldn't," you said as you looked away from his gaze.

His eyes narrowed at your words.

"No? Why shouldn't you?" he asked, “They poisoned?”

You laughed softly at that, shaking your head, “Of course not. No, I’d never,” you assured him, still not meeting his gaze.

“So,” he prompted, taking another bite of his cookie, his scrupulous stare warming you.

You felt embarrassed all over again as you fiddled with your hands in your lap, smoothing the skirt of your dress as you avoided his gaze. You felt your eyes getting a tad bit glassy and you felt even sillier, blinking the bleariness away.

"I-" you brushed the fabric down along your waist, trying to inconspicuously pull it away from your tummy before smoothing the skirt once more as you cleared your throat, "I should really watch my figure," you spoke so softly it was nearly whispered, trying not to sound so solemn - even forcing a soft smile on your lips once more.

"That's horseshit," Bodecker said outright. It was almost funny, the way he sounded offended. Your eyes picked up and instantly met his. A small pout formed on your lips as you were truly shocked at his words. "I don't know who's makin' you think that, darlin', but they're out of their damn minds. Ain’t nothing wrong with a woman lookin’ like a woman."

He eyed you intently as he spoke, his gaze heavy. You didn't respond, a bit taken aback by his forwardness, but still you found yourself not feeling quite so badly.

"Come on," he stuck the cookie toward you again, "you put all that work into 'em, you really don't wanna taste how good they came out?" he tempted you lightly.

You worried your lip before giving him a nervous smile. You took a breath and leaned forward to take the cookie from him, your fingers brushing his as he handed it to you.

His touch, as fleeting as it was, was warm and you weren't sure why, but it gave you a rush you hadn't felt since grade school. It was then you realized there was something else to admonish yourself for. As juvenile as it made you feel, you realized you just might have had a bit of a crush on the sheriff.

Was it because he was the only person in town to give you the time of day? Or because for some unexplained reason you just felt better - safer when he was around? Maybe it was those crystal blue eyes that made you feel seen - and though you fought yourself on the idea, - even admired.

Maybe it was a combination of all three. Either way, here you were. In his office, dressed and dolled up with cookies, concerned with how you looked to him and moments away from looking to him for further reassurance. You hadn't even realized you were doing it, but surely that's what it was.

God, you were pathetic. Were you making a mountain out of a mole hill just to have an excuse to talk to him again?

No. That couldn't be true. The missing key, the creaking sounds… It was truly unnerving. You really did feel like you needed to add it to your report, to make sure there was record of it. It just so happened that the sheriff was the person you could report it to.

You held the cookie in your hand, only bringing it up to your lips when you realized he was waiting for you to do so. Delicately, you bit into it, smiling at the warm gooeyness of the cookie. Perfect, just how you wanted them to turn out.

The sheriff laughed lightly at your reaction as he watched you, the mirthful sound sending butterflies to flutter in your stomach as you met his gleaming gaze.

Crinkles by his eyes accompanied his charming smile, one you hadn't seen before and certainly weren't expecting to - but it looked good on him. You wished he'd smile more. And for a second you felt giddy at the idea that you were the reason he had.

You couldn't help it as your close-lipped smile grew in turn while you chewed, a small titter escaping you. You gladly let him take the rest of the cookie from you and watched as he popped the last bite into his mouth with a satisfied smirk.

You looked down at his desk then, a hand covering your mouth as you swallowed your bite. If you had the nerve, you wouldn't have looked away from him just yet. Surely it was a rare sight to see the typically stoic sheriff smiling..

But you didn't have the nerve. Instead, you forced yourself to look away, your own smile growing more and more shy. His attention was still fully on you, though. It was undeniable, the weight of his stare.

The feeling reminded you of why you were here to begin with. It wasn't a bad feeling, his eyes on you, not at all the same compared to the feeling you'd get late at night when you were all alone.

Nonetheless, you felt your stomach turn as you thought about what to say to bring up the subject again. There were those nerves again, and not the good kind.

Your eyes were scanning the desk absentmindedly as you thought until your gaze landed on the edge of a photo that was shoved beneath a small stack of files. You narrowed your eyes as you tried to make out what it was before the sheriff shoved it further under the pile.

You looked up at him with wide eyes as he stared back at you, the unexpected movement from him a bit startling. "Crime scene photos," he explained. "Trust me, you don't wanna see 'em."

"No," you breathed with a small shake of your head, "no I'm sure you're right. ‘M sorry, I wasn't meaning to pry."

"So what's got you all tense now, sweetheart? What'd you wanna talk about?" his eyes bore into you as you sat before him. He dusted the cookie crumbs off his hand as you took a breath before you spoke.

“Well, nothing really.. I just, uhm. I can't seem to find the spare key to my apartment. I always leave it in the same place, but I -I went to grab it today, and it wasn't there. I looked everywhere for it, everywhere, but it's just - it's gone,” you told him, the concern clear in your voice.

“Well, sweetheart, I wouldn't worry too much over a misplaced key,” he smiled placatingly at you.

“No,” you agreed, “and I wouldn't normally, but,” you trailed off.

The sheriff waited for you to continue, his eyes full of intrigue as his head tilted to the side. You looked down at your lap again, nervous; you were worried to tell him the rest.

“This is gonna sound crazy,” you mumbled to yourself.

“Don't worry about what it sounds like darlin, just tell me,” he said firmly. You took a breath.

“And well, I-,” you paused for just a moment to take a deeper breath, working up the nerve to just come out and say it, “I thought there was someone last night …I thought I heard someone in my apartment.”

You looked up to meet his eye, trying to gauge his response. You waited for him to laugh or even ridicule you for your needless paranoia. But he didn’t.

He examined you, his head tilting back as he sat a bit straighter in his chair- tongue poking out as he wet his lips. You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you continued.

“I know how that sounds. But I promise you, Sheriff, I swear. I’m not crazy. And I know there's not really much you can do about it but I figured there should be a report of it? I’m thinking I'll just call a locksmith. Have the locks changed mayb-,”

“Darlin’, I don’t think you're crazy,” he said, gently cutting you off before you could ramble on further. He got closer to his desk, closer to you, as he leaned forward in his chair, planting his arms on the desk as he spoke; it felt as if his eyes were peering into your soul as he stared at you. “But I do know you've been stressed since the day you got here,” he said matter-of-factly, though still soft, as if he was trying not to upset you. His tone was… considerate. It surprised you. You swallowed thickly as you waited for him to continue.

“I’m not sayin’ you didn't hear what you think you heard, but I know the floors in those buildings can creak a lot all on their own. And I know if you've been stressed, your sleep probably hasn't been the best, either..” he alluded, his brows raising a touch as he trailed off, offering you a tight lipped smile.

You understood what he was saying, exhaling heavily. You looked into his azure gaze, giving him a small nod.

He was right. You had been stressed since you’d moved here, and only grew more so once you'd finally gotten settled in the apartment. You had been sure you'd find a job within a week or two or moving here but despite interviewing at any and every place in town that was hiring, you hadn't had any luck landing a job. The financial stress on top of the isolation and loneliness was only made worse by the growing dread that there was someone out there watching you; possibly even entering your home - the one place you could hope to find any comfort or solace around here - without your knowledge.

You didn't know how much more of it you could take before you'd be running back home with your tail tucked between your legs and a flood of apologies falling off your lips as you begged your parent’s forgiveness for not listening to them in the first place. You were well past the age women were expected to be married and starting a family of their own, and though your parents assured you they loved having you at home, you hated feeling like you were a burden to them; worse yet, an embarrassment. You were sure moving out on your own somewhere new would be good for all of you. A fresh start of sorts. You had dreams of landing a job you’d love, meeting new friends, maybe even finding a nice man to settle down with one day…

But with each day that passed, all those dreams started to feel more and more unrealistic.

The sheriff’s voice brought you out of your sudden stupor as you blinked back up to him.

“I don't want you to think I’m not taking this seriously,” he assured you as he turned to grab a pen. You watched as he wrote something down in his notepad while he spoke. “No need for a locksmith, the last thing you should be wasting your money on is new locks. I'm sure the key’ll turn up soon. In the meantime,” he said as he tore out the piece of paper, handing it to you.

You looked from him to the paper, taking it gently from his hand, and read the number he wrote down along with his name, Lee Bodecker. You sheepishly lifted your gaze once more, meeting his eye.

“If you think someone’s been inside again, I want you to call me right away. If I don't answer at the station, give that number a try. Any time. Day or night. I mean it,” he said seriously.

“I will,” you promised, “thank you, Sheriff, really.”

“Lee,” he corrected.

You felt your skin heat up again at his direction. You gave a soft smile and a small nod, “Lee,” you rectified.

You tried to swallow down the flurry of emotions you were experiencing before you stood from your seat. Lee stood with you and led you to the door, his hand on the small of your back as you walked the short distance from his desk. He surprised you again as he led you down the hall, walking side by side with you. As you passed the receptionist on your way out, you could feel the stare of the woman you’d spoken with earlier set on you and Lee. He felt it, too as he turned to meet her judgemental gaze while you looked anywhere but. Her eyes went wide as he sent her a sharp look and she quickly went back to her work, all the while you tried to pretend you hadn’t noticed. You approached the doors and Lee held it open for you as you smiled bashfully at his courteousness.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” you said as you walked through the entrance.

“You have a good day, darlin’,” he smiled.

“You, too,” you returned before turning to walk to your car and making your way back home.

—------

You had run into Lee a number of times when you were out and about these past couple weeks since you’d gone by his office. You felt a lot more at ease around him, each interaction leaving you feeling closer and closer to him. It was funny, you might even consider yourself friends with him. The closest thing to a friend you had around here at least.

As you slowly retreat from the living room, you briefly contemplate giving him a call. He had said if you thought someone had been inside to do so, but you quickly think better of it. It’s late and you’re sure he must be home by now. There isn’t any reason to ring an alarm when nothing truly seems amiss. It was surely all in your head, you were on edge; rightfully so, but still. No need to disturb him at this time of night over nothing.

You sigh as you make your way into the kitchen through the entryway it shares with the living room. You skirt by the small dining table to get to the fridge, flicking the light on as you do.

You pull open the freezer door and take out your last frozen tv dinner. You look at the meal glumly as you wonder what you're going to be eating come next week. Your savings are slowly dwindling and you’ve still yet to get a job. You have very little hope of getting a call from the grocery store you’d interviewed at today. And even less for hearing back from the open interview for an office assistant position you’d spent nearly five hours at earlier.

Your name seemed to be skipped over repeatedly until you were the last woman left. You had wanted to leave after the third time you were skipped, just from the embarrassment alone, but you didn’t have a choice. You were desperate.

You were sitting anxiously in the uncomfortable steel chair they’d provided, wringing your hands in your lap as you waited, when you saw the interviewers starting to get ready to leave. You shot up and rushed over to them as quickly as you could in your heels and you had to beg them to give you a chance. They did so, be it quite reluctantly, and though you gave them your absolute best, they gave you nothing. Completely uninterested in your resume and even less so in your answers to the questions they read off their paper.

They said they’d be calling their selected candidates tomorrow or the next day and you thanked them for their time. As you left their office door, they followed soon after and passed you as they headed straight for the exit. You turned behind you and through the office window, saw your resume at the very front of the pile they’d discarded in the trash. Your despair must have been clear on your face as the elderly receptionist still at her desk called out to you. “Don’t be too upset, sweetie. In a town this small, it’s all about who you know. No one wants to hire a stranger when they can help a friend out instead. You can’t take it personal,” she tried to comfort you, though all her words did was cement the fact that you might never be able to get a job around here. You might always be just a stranger here. It was a small community indeed, and it seemed to be a closed one.

You’d have to make some tough decisions pretty soon, that’s for sure.

You turn to start your oven and when you face the counter, your heart falls to your stomach as your tv dinner falls to the floor; a sharp exhale leaving you as if you’ve been hit in the gut. Your eyes are wide as you nonsensically back away from the counter, bumping into the chair at the table behind you. A startled shriek leaves you at the unforeseen contact while you spin around, hands tightly grasp the chair as your legs threaten to buckle beneath you.

You frantically look around as your eyes well with tears, terrified someone is going to pop out and confirm your deepest fears before you slowly turn back around and let your eyes land on the counter once again.

It’s a gorgeous bouquet. One you’d be lucky to receive under normal circumstances. But not these.

The roses are standing in a too familiar vase, not just a clear one you’d expect to get at a florist. You know that vase. It’s the vase your grandmother had left you when she’d passed. The vase you knew should be in the cabinet, right where you left it.

You move before you process what you’re doing, making a beeline for the phone on the wall. You open the small kitchen drawer and grab Lee’s card. You call the number to his office but the phone rings too long and you’re met with no answer. Pulling the drawer open again, you take the piece of paper he’d given you with his personal number written on and call that instead.

One ring.

Two.

“Bodecker,” his gruff voice comes through the receiver. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you try to speak.

“Lee,” your voice wavers through your tight throat. He speaks your name, worry sounding clear in his tone, “yeah, it’s - it’s me,” you whimper, stifling a sob. Your hands are shaking as you use one to hold the phone and the other on the wall to keep you upright; your eyes are dead set on the unwanted bouquet taunting you. “I’m so sorry to interrupt your night,” you say, trying not to let your voice break, “but, Lee, someone’s been here. Someone’s been in my apartment. They left flowers? And I - I,” you cut yourself off as you cry into the receiver, not being able to hold it in.

“Hey, okay. Okay, don’t worry, sweetheart,” he tries to calm you, “you’re okay, right?”

“Yes,” you sniffle, hating how pathetic you sound, but hating how terrified you are even more.

“No one’s inside with you?”

“I don’t think so, no. I, I just got home,”

“Okay, don’t cry, darlin’. I’ll be right there,” he assures you.

“Should I call anyone else? 911? What do I do?” you ask, frazzled and unsure.

“No,” he replies swiftly, a bit sharp, “no need for that, I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. I’m on my way right now,” he tells you. You nod meekly before realizing he can’t see you.

“Okay,” you murmur, “please hurry.”

Lee can’t stop the pleased smile that makes its way to his lips at your words. You hang up the phone and he hangs up his, grabbing his jacket on his way out of his house. He’s been waiting for your call all night. Sure, he feels bad for scaring you, but it’s all gonna be worth it. Once you’re together, he’ll make sure you never feel that fear again. He’d do absolutely anything for you. You were it for him. He knew it the moment he saw you.

He had been out on patrol the day you’d moved to town, the moving truck that drove down the empty street catching his attention. He had followed it to your apartment building, curious about the new resident in town. When he saw you, standing outside in a pink and white dress and heels, waiting for the truck to park, he was immediately taken by you. You had a soft smile on your face as your eyes twinkled in the sunlight while he admired you from his cruiser. He noted the way you squinted at the truck before watching it drive past you, leaving you cutely confused for a moment before you had to hurry after it, trying to wave it back. He almost put on his lights to get the truck back for you, but the driver noticed you and turned around before he had to. So he stayed where he was. He watched for a minute or two as you spoke with the movers and showed them the way to your apartment. He kept waiting for someone to join you, surely you weren’t alone. But no one ever did. When he noticed your bare ring finger, he just knew he had to make you his before anyone else could get the chance to. That’s when it all started.

He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

You were on his mind all day and all night.

The first time he’d stopped by, it really was just to check on you. But when he got a glimpse of you through your bedroom window, a silk robe hugging your curves as you got ready for bed, he couldn’t help but watch. He was captivated by you.

The next night he drove by and saw you again. And the next night. And the next.

He wanted to commit your silhouette to memory. It was a lovely sight. You were lovely. He hadn’t planned to do it, but the camera was right there on the passenger seat. It was the perfect opportunity. And he really didn’t think you’d notice.

Then the flash went off.

He watched as your eyes shot to the window, a look of shock and fear on your pretty face.

It was dark out, his car was off and he was hidden in the shadows, he knew you wouldn’t be able to see him.

You slowly got closer to the window before you dared to peek outside. When you were satisfied there was no one there, you pulled your curtains shut tight.

He couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed he couldn’t see you now, but a small part of him was glad no one else would be able to, either.

He waited until your lights went out before he finally started the cruiser up and drove home.

When he got your call the next morning, he was glad to be able to hear your voice. You sounded as sweet as you looked and he couldn’t wait any longer to finally introduce himself to you.

When he stopped by your apartment later that day, your meeting only solidified what he already knew. You were perfect for him. You were meant to be his.

But as freaked out as you already were, he knew he’d have to take his time with you. It’d be worth it, though. He knew you were worth it.

Everything he’d done these past couple months were leading up to this. Tonight would change everything.

Lee, of course, knew you weren’t in any danger, but he still sped to your apartment as quickly as he could. He was anxious to get there, to comfort you. He knew you’d be a ball of nerves and fear as you waited for him to show up.

You pace around your kitchen as you keep an ear out for the door.

You try hard not to keep crying, you don’t want to look like a complete mess when Lee finally shows up, but it’s not an easy task as it feels like everything is crashing down on you all at once.

You know once Lee gets here, you’ll at the very least feel safer.

You can’t bring your feet to walk past the threshold of the kitchen, terrified the moment you do, whoever left these flowers will finally come out of the shadows and reveal themselves.

A few minutes pass, and you finally get the nerve to walk past the kitchen entryway. The instant your foot steps into the hallway, there’s a knock on your door. You jump at the sound, your hand flying to your mouth to cover your startled yelp.

You turn to the door and walk to it, pressing yourself to the wood and up on your tiptoes to look out of the peephole.

The second you see it’s him, you unlock the door and swing it open, nearly barrling Lee down as you lose yourself to the relief and throw yourself into him.

Despite his obvious surprise, his arms wrap around you without hesitation and he holds you to him.

You don’t bother to stop the tears as they fall while you cry into his chest. Lee hushes you, his hands running up and down your back in an attempt to soothe you before he gently pulls you off of him, his blue eyes peering down at you.

“It’s all right, darlin’, you’re all right,” he says softly as his hands rub your arms. You watch as he looks past you into your apartment. You sniffle as you look up at him before turning to face the door as well. You’re quiet for a moment before you murmur.

“I don’t know what to do.”

You feel Lee’s hand on your waist before he moves past you and into the apartment. “I’m gonna take a look around,” he says over his shoulder, glancing back only to find you already following right behind him.

You’re nearly right against Lee’s back as he checks each room one by one.

When you finally get back to the kitchen, Lee seems satisfied at the emptiness of the place. He sees the bouquet on your counter and saunters over to inspect it.

“No card?” he asks.

“Didn’t see one,” you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’ve been out most of the day, I only got home maybe fifteen, twenty minutes ago. They could’ve come by at any time and I wouldn’t have known. And now, I just can’t stop thinking, how many times have they been inside before? While I’ve been out.. While I’ve been sleeping,” your voice threatens to break as you voice your worries.

“I just, I don’t feel safe here,” you say as you wipe at your eyes, “I can’t stay here,” you say with certainty. There is no way you can even think of trying to sleep here tonight. Your mind races with what-ifs and then you come to the only conclusion you can think of.

“I’m gonna drive back home tonight, figure out the rest tomorrow.” You hear how solemn and resigned you sound, and it breaks your heart even more. But this is it, you’re sure. You have to know when it’s time to quit and all signs are pointing to now.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I can’t let you do that. It’s late and you’re in no state to be driving that far alone,” Lee says as he nears you once more.

Your eyes well anew and a bubbled cry breaks past your lips as you bury your face in your hands. Maybe he’s right, but where the hell does that leave you? You have no other options.

“You don’t wanna stay here the night, that’s probably best. We can see if there’s any rooms open at the motel,” he offers. The suggestion only adds to the feeling of helplessness that’s drowning you. You shake your head.

“I can’t afford that,” you admit, embarrassed at your reality.

“Well,” he starts, his tongue darting out past his lips as he thinks; his hands framing his hips as he looks at you, “why don’t you stay with me tonight, then.”

You look at him with wide eyes, a pout on your lips as you take a much needed breath, “Really?” you ask dubiously.

“‘Course, darlin. Probably the safest option, anyway,” he reasons. “So long as you're comfortable,” he adds. You nod fervently in response.

“That’s so kind of you, Sheriff, thank you.” You could easily cry again at his offer - tears of relief, of course - but you keep them at bay. “I just need to grab a few things,” you say, though it sounds like a question as you wait for his okay.

When he realizes this, he nods for you to go. You flit away, but pause again in the hallway; the darkness suddenly becomes a problem for you once he’s no longer near.

“Lee,” you call for him and he responds at once, appearing at the threshold of the kitchen. You swallow hard as you meet his eye. “I’m sorry, it’s silly,” you shake your head, self-deprecating as your voice quiets.

But Lee won’t have it. “What’s wrong?”

“...Will you come with me, please?” you ask meekly. He almost smiles, you can see the way the corner of his lips twitch upward before he nods, promptly following you to your room.

—------------------------------------

It had been a quiet but easy ride to Lee’s house. You didn’t say much as your mind was thinking over your situation endlessly. Trying to figure out next steps - though you knew deep down there was only one sensible option available to you now.

Getting ready for sleep was a blur and even as you found yourself crawling into the large, cushy bed Lee had graciously given up for you, your thoughts refused to die down. You couldn’t seem to get yourself to relax.

Your eyes are fixed on the ceiling above you as you breathe softly through your nose. You lay on your back, tired from the tired, but knowing there’s nothing you can really do as sleep continues to evade you.

Your throat feels dry and you’re suddenly overcome with a sickening thirst. It’s hot, you realize as you throw off the heavy comforter of the bed.

Sitting up, you fix the strap of your nightgown. A cold breeze runs over your heated skin and you realize that it’s you who’s hot, not the room. You put a hand to your forehead and try to take a deep breath. The stress is making you so upset, you're on the verge of becoming physically ill.

Carefully, you leave the bed and slip out of the room, mindful not to let the door make too much noise as you do.

You tiptoe down the stairs one step at a time until you reach the bottom, sneaking a quick glance past the blackened living room where Lee said he’d be if you needed anything. The last thing you want to do is wake him up, though. You feel bad enough for taking his bed as it is, you don’t want to disturb his sleep further.

You’re thankful for the stove light he kept on as you walk to the cabinet he’d gotten a glass from earlier. As you reach to open it, the lights come on and startle you. You spin around to find Lee leaning on the doorframe of the kitchen, a plain white tee shirt and blue gingham long leg briefs the only things covering him. You catch yourself taking in his appearance for a moment too long and quickly flit your eyes away, looking instead at the tiled floor.

“Lee,” you breath, “I’m sorry if I woke you, I was trying to be quiet,” you apologize softly, your hand absentmindedly adjusting the strap of your nightgown once more. You can feel his stare and you recognize the feeling of self consciousness taking over you as you fidget a bit under the weight of his gaze. You don’t think anyone has ever seen you in nothing but your night dress before and you can’t help but feel vulnerable as you stand before him. He pushes off the doorframe and saunters over to you, his eyes never leaving you as he does.

“You alright, darlin’?”

“Mhm,” you hum quietly, “sorry, I was just hoping to get some water,” you say, finally letting your eyes meet his while steadfastly refusing to look anywhere but his face.

“‘S alright, sweetheart,” he brushes off your apology as he turns to the cabinet and gets a glass for you. “I wasn’t sleepin’ when you came down, anyway. Been tryin’, but that couch,” he shakes his head as he trails off, walking to the sink to fill the glass.

“Gosh, I’m sorry, Lee,” you say, guilt lacing your tone. “I can take the couch,” you try to offer before he cuts you off.

“No,” he says firmly, turning to hand you the water. “I won’t have you sleepin there. You deserve better than a couch, especially after the night you’ve had.”

You take the glass from him with a gracious ‘thank you’ and hold it delicately in your hands.

“Well.. ya know,” you begin, fingers twiddling along the glass, “I really don’t mind sharing the bed upstairs,” you shrug.

Lee looks at you, really looks while he determines if there’s any sign of trepidation or unease from you. You are a bit nervous at being in the same bed with a man, especially in such little clothing, but you trust Lee. And you hate the idea of him being up all night on the couch because of you.

“You don’t?” he questions. You shake your head in response, sincerity in your eyes that you hope he can see.

“You’re sure?” he asks again.

“Yes, of course,” you reassure him. “I mean, it is your bed, after all,” you give him a tired smile before you take a sip of the much needed water.

“You sure you’re alright, darlin’?” he asks again, taking a step toward you. You stay still as you watch him bring a hand up to your forehead. His touch is cool against your warmed skin and your lashes flutter shut at the feeling of his hand dragging softly down your cheek before he drops it.

His sudden proximity does nothing to ease the heat nipping at you. In fact, as you open your eyes and are met with Lee just mere inches from you, the warmth only burns at your skin more intently. You swallow hard and take a step back, wanting to put some distance between you; his soft touch already has you dizzy, you don’t want to make even more a fool of yourself now.

“I’m okay,” you start, “I’m just.. stressing myself out about, ya know…everything.”

“I know,” he nods, leaning his hip against the counter as you set your glass down, still facing him. “But, sweetheart, you’re just makin yourself sick. We can deal with everything tomorrow,” he placates.

“Tomorrow, yeah. That’s what I keep telling myself, but I just can’t seem to get my head to stop. All I can think about is how unsafe my apartment feels now. I don’t really want to go back there. And if I don’t go back, what am I spending the last of my money on? My rent is due next week and I’m not even sure I want to pay it. I still haven’t got a job. No one in this town even likes me, I feel like I’m wearing a scarlet letter anytime I step outside. You know you’re the only person who even just waves or smiles at me when we see each other?” you laugh humorlessly as your ranting slows. “You might be the only person in town who even knows or cares to remember my name,” your glassy eyes meet his gaze as you blink and shake your head lightly; taking a steadying breath. “I think maybe I’m just not meant to be here. I think… I think it’s probably best all around if I just move back home,” you finally admit aloud, the resignation in your voice breaking your own heart.

“I know you’re stressed and feelin’ bad, but really, sweetheart,” he says as he makes up for the step you’d taken away from him, his broad hand coming to rub your shoulder. It’s an act you’re sure he meant to comfort you with, and in some capacity it does, but it also sends goosebumps across your skin and has your belly warm at the perceived intimacy. “You can’t rush any big decisions right now. And it takes some time for folks around here to get used to new people. ‘Specially the pretty ones they’re jealous of,'' he adds.

You furrow your brows in response, confused. Lee laughs a bit at your cluelessness. “I don’t know if you’ve realized it, darlin’ but you've been the talk of the town since you got here.”

“Have I?”

“Well, small towns and their gossip,” he shrugs. “You sure gave ‘em a lot to talk about with that outfit you wore the day you moved in.” You notice the way his eyes scan you up and down as he speaks, as if he’s picturing it now.

You don’t say anything as your face falls, embarrassment rearing its ugly head as you can only imagine the things people have been saying about you.

“Guess the scarlet letter wasn’t too far off, then, was it,” you postulate, voice tight.

“I don’t think that’s all too bad, honey. A lot a these folks, you’d be better off not gettin’ involved with, believe me.”

“Yeah, well all I know is it’s not too helpful being a social pariah when it comes to finding a job around here,” you wallow, a frown taking place on your lips.

“Ya know, I think I can help you with that,” he simpers and sports half a smile at the way you eye him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I’m gonna be needin a new receptionist soon, down at the station. Sure you’d be perfect for the job, if you want it,” he offers to you nonchalantly.

You just look at him for a second, mouth slightly agape as you take a moment to think. You blink and swallow, shaking your head lightly.

“That would be really kind of you, Lee,” you say sincerely, “but I don’t know. I really do appreciate it, it’s just, I still don’t feel safe here. Not in that apartment..” you say solemnly, hoping he understands.

“So stay here with me.” Your eyes widen at his words. For a second you’re sure you misheard him, but he’s quick to continue. “Just ‘til you find a new place, if that’s what ya want. You don’t really wanna move back home after all the work you had to do to move out to begin with, do ya? Trust me, this house is big enough for the two of us and I wouldn’t mind helpin ya out. I can keep you safe here, make sure no one messes with you,” he promises. You don’t realize at first, how you've relaxed against his touch; his hand gently stroking your arm.

As you look into his eyes, you realize how much closer he’s gotten.. Or was it you who leaned into him? Your breath catches in your throat as you blink up at him, you want to respond but can’t seem to get your mouth to work. “I am the Sheriff, after all,” he smiles easily, but his blue eyes seem just a bit darker now.

Your throat is dry when you finally manage to respond, swallowing hard and clearing your throat just a touch.

“You’re right,” you begin softly, missing the glint of giddy in Lee’s eyes as he misunderstands your meaning. “...I shouldn’t make any big decisions right now. Should probably..sleep on it, at the very least,” you breathe. His hand stops running down your arm and instead he squeezes your hand lightly in his.

“‘Course, darlin’,” he nods, giving you a soft smile.

You look away from him, feeling awkward but still you allow a small smile to settle on your lips in return.

“Can I bring this upstairs?” you ask, grabbing the glass off the counter. Lee nods, his gaze still intent on you.

“You sure you’re alright with me goin up there?”

“I’m sure,” you nod, reassuring him as you try to ignore the flurry growing in your tummy at the thought of crawling into the same bed, sleeping next to him.. You try to taper the thoughts down, “Bed’s certainly big enough,” you titter despite your incessant thoughts making you grow uncomfortable the more they unfurl.

You make your way to the bedroom, Lee in tow. As you enter, you stand off to the side to allow Lee to enter and watch what side he chooses to go to.

When he approaches the right side, you make your way to the left - setting your water down on the nightstand before you pull the comforter further back and move to get in.

You settle on the bed, trying to measure your breaths as your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

As Lee gets in, the bed dipping beside you under his movements, your nightgown suddenly feels a lot more inappropriate..

You have no idea where the thought comes from, but you find yourself imagining what it’d be like to have Lee’s hands on you again, this time lower as he slides his warm palms up your plush thighs, pushing the nightgown up higher and higher as he caresses you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, absentmindedly licking your lips before forcing the thought away; your hips shift on the bed, thighs squeezing together of their own volition as your body seems to try and ease the subtle need growing within you.

You clutch the duvet tight around you as you will yourself to just fall asleep. Lee lays down on the mattress and your heart nearly stops at the relieved, breathy groan that leaves him as he eases down under the covers.

You can feel the heat from his body warming your skin already and you’re certain he moves just a bit closer than he needs to be as he shifts, presumably, to get more comfortable.

You tell yourself you’re just overly alert from the nerves and take a calming breath to relax.

It doesn’t help.

You’re working yourself up despite your best efforts to stop it. You feel so…needy.

Though Lee makes you feel safe and secure, having him this close while you’re in the state you are, well, it’s only fueling your perverted thoughts.

It’d be so easy to turn over and cuddle into his warmth, let your worries go while you’re in his arms… You can only imagine how nice it’d be; how good he’d feel.

Your eyes flutter shut but your imagination only burns brighter once you’ve drifted off to sleep.

Lee notices when you do. He admires the shape of your curves under the blanket, the soft sounds that fall past your lips. He isn’t thinking as he reaches a hand toward you under the covers, his palm gently landing on the softness of your thigh. He doesn’t move for a moment, just takes in the feeling of you before absentmindedly stroking his thumb up and down the goosebumps that raise on your skin.

His palm spreads wide as he softly squeezes you before running his fingertips up and down along your thigh. He refuses to let his touch wander any higher than the hem of your dress, though he desperately wants to.

He continues caressing you while you sleep, an air of peacefulness coming over him as he begins to let his own tiredness take over.

He swears he’s about to fall asleep. But then he notices it.

The comforter is tucked between your legs as you sleep on your side and he thinks for a second he just imagined it, but then you do it again.

Your hips tilt ever so slightly.. over.. and over again.

You're rocking yourself on the blanket and he’s sure he knows just what kind of dream you’re having. He feels his length growing in his boxers, twitching and getting harder as he watches you chase your pleasure in your sleep.

Lee bites back a moan when you whimper feebly, your hand clutching lightly at the pillow under your head as your eyes seem to squeeze tight before your head moves. His hand is off you in an instant and he watches as you slowly, sleepily, blink open your eyes, a groggy moan leaving you as you turn over in his direction, laying on your back now. Soft breaths and subtle moans pass your lips as you lie there before you rub at your eyes and look up at the ceiling.

He isn’t sure you’re aware that he’s awake, too..

You’re restless again. The pleasure thrumming through you was what woke you up, and as you come back to consciousness, you're mortified with yourself. You can feel your arousal pooling between your thighs and you’re honestly tempted to just creep downstairs and lay on the couch. How awful are you that you’re having wet dreams about Lee while he sleeps next to you in his bed, none the wiser to your perversions. Shame eats at you as you rub at your eyes, stifling an embarrassed whimper of self pity.. and, regrettably, a bit of dissatisfaction as your core aches at the lack of stimulation.

You feel utterly pathetic.

“You okay, honey?” Lee asks, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it before as he startles you, pulling you from your thoughts.

You look over to him wide eyed and wonder how long he’s been awake. You pray you haven't made any noises in your sleep; that you’re not the reason he’s awake.

“Oh,” you breathe quietly, “Mhm. ‘M okay,” you nod.

“You sure you’re alright, sweetheart? Ya seem fidgety.”

“No,” it’s too quick of a response, too meek. You’re sure he knows something is up with you. You continue anyway, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“You sure I can’t help you?” he presses. His eyes are so dark and the way he’s looking at you sends an unexpected chill down your spine. His voice is bordering on suggestive, but you know better than to think that. You barely notice how fast your heart is beating and how your breathing pattern is changing.

You turn away from him, attempting to hide your face in the pillow. How could he possibly help you with this?

“No, I don’t - I don’t think so,” you eek out, your indignity threatening to consume you completely.

“If you can’t sleep, darlin’, I can’t sleep,” he drawls. “Let me help you. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Your whole body is on fire now. You can’t think straight, mind fuzzy. There aren’t any words you can think of, not even a lie to whisper out. You don’t know what to say.

The bed moves. Lee moves. He’s so close, nearly right behind you. You hear his breath, feel his warmth. And then his broad hand settles on your hip. You breathe in sharply as his lips press against your ear, sending shivers through you.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. You don’t have to be shy. Think I already know what’s botherin’ you,” he soothes, slipping his hand further down your pelvis as you try in vain to calm your thundering heart.

“Are you wet?” he whispers softly.

For a second you think you’re still dreaming. You’re stunned silent as you take a shaky breath.

“Just a yes or no, darlin’,” he prompts, his fingers toying with the skirt of your dress, brushing over the soft skin of your thighs the lower his hand goes.

You don’t stop him..you don’t want him to stop.

As his hand begins to trail beneath your dress, you exhale a breathy, “Yes.”

You swear you can feel his smile against your skin.

“Thought so. I can help you with that,” he entices.

“Lee,” you begin, not meaning it to be the whimper it was as your breath stutters, “I don’t think that’s-,”

“Why not?” He cuts you off gently. “I can help make it feel better and then we can both get some rest. I know you’re exhausted, sweetheart. This’ll help, I promise.”

“How?” you quaver. “How would you help?”

“However you want me to, honey,” he coos. He presses his lips under your ear and a soft gasp slips from you as you unthinkingly tilt your head to give him more access to you, your eyes flutter shut.

Another kiss is pressed under your jaw, then another against the sensitive skin of your neck.

You’ve never felt like this before. Never been touched or kissed like this. It feels so good, and though you don’t want it to stop, you think you have to before it goes too far.

“I don’t know what I want,” you breathe, so quietly you barely hear yourself.

“Well,” he begins, lips ghosting along your skin as he speaks; his hand trailing up and down your thigh lightly, inching closer and closer to where you’re dripping for him - your thighs closed tightly the only thing stopping him from brushing against your core, “I can rub you better with my hand,” he offers, voice quiet but laced with desire. “Or I can use my tongue. Or I can give you my cock and make it feel real nice.”

You gasp wantonly as you feel his erection against your backside, your walls squeezing around nothing as your arousal grows.

“I don’t know, Lee,” you whimper. “I’m saving myself. For marriage. I -,” you breathe nervously, “I’ve never... I’ve never done anything,” you mutter pathetically.

“Oh, baby, it’s okay,” he reassures you with another kiss as he feels his cock throb at your admission. He can’t believe he could get any harder, but the knowledge that you’ve saved yourself for him proves him wrong. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do. Sometimes just touching can help,” he breaths along your skin.

His hands are wandering your body, growing more brazen the more he feels you relax against him; you can’t help yourself, you’re at his whim and completely lost to his touch.

He kisses every sweet spot he can find, knowing full well it isn’t going to help ease the ache he’s sure is growing inside you; he’s betting on the opposite, in fact.

You’re feeling overwhelmed with sensation as Lee presses himself closer to you, hugging your body from behind as his lips trail up your neck and to your cheek, right to the corner of your mouth.

You can’t take it. You need to kiss him.

As he moves to place more kisses on your shoulder, you turn into him, catching him off guard for a moment as you take his face in your hands and meet his eye. You attempt to regulate your breathing but as your eyes flick down to his parted lips, you forget it and just give in.

You crash your lips to his as Lee happily kisses you back, pulling you flush against him.

Your body is moving faster than your mind is thinking as you hitch your leg over his hip.

Lee nearly growls when your covered core brushes over his restrained erection and you moan at the jolt of pleasure that runs through you when he grazes your sensitive bundle of nerves. You repeat the motion again, searching for the relief he promised you.

Lee’s large hand has a fist full of your ass and the other is around your waist. He moves you against him over and over as you gasp and whine before he lets his hand wander up your body, pulling at the straps of your nightgown.

Suddenly, Lee pushes you onto your back as he slides the dress up your body and you help him pull it off over your head. Your nipples are already peaked as Lee urges you back down under him.

His hands are incessant as he fondles and caresses you all over as his lips attack every inch of your skin he can reach.

When his touch reaches the band of your panties, your heart beat kicks up even higher.

“Lee,” you stutter breathily as he begins pulling them off, down your thick thighs, revealing your slick folds to his hungry gaze.

His mouth waters at the sight of you and he doesn’t bother to hold himself back any longer. His nose nuzzles your clit as his tongue explores you, drinking you in - groans leaving him and sending vibrations through you that have you seeing stars.

With how fast it happens, it takes you a second to register what’s going on. You’re writhing on the bed before you muster up the strength to push at Lee’s head.

“Lee, please,” you whine, “wait, please wait,” you beg him.

He pulls away from you, his dark blue eyes peering back at you as you pant heavy breaths.

“I don’t think I can, Lee,” you worry.

“Sweetheart,” he chuckles, “you’re worryin’ too much. I’m gonna take real good care a’you. Just wanna make you feel better, darlin’. You trust me, don’t you?”

He sounds so genuine, and the look in his eye seems so sincere, even with the indecent way your arousal is still shining on his skin. You nod meekly as you maintain eye contact.

“‘S’okay,” he says as he sits on his haunches between your widely spread legs, his hands running up and down your thighs before he brings his right one to your folds. He rubs at you, eyes trained on your face scrunching up in pleasure as he teases you. You can feel as he prods at your tight entrance with one of his thick fingers; you tense reflexively before he uses his other hand to draw languid circles over your puffy clit. You can feel the tension building, like a coil tightening in your lower belly as you whine and moan, your toes curling as your breathing gets more and more erratic.

Lee gently pushes his finger into you and you cry out at the foreign sensation. You’re so sensitive, already on the brink as he curls his finger inside of you, rubbing against the spot that has you completely coming undone. He groans at the way your walls constrict around him and can only imagine how perfect you’ll feel around his cock. He throbs at the thought and can feel the pre cum leaking from his tip. He doesn’t think he can wait any longer now that you’re here, now that you’re this close.

He eases his finger out of you as your chest heaves and your whimpers start to die down.

Lee crawls back up over your body and leans down to capture your lips in his own. It’s soft, but builds rougher and more heated as he grows more needy.

He pulls his shirt over his head and frees his stiff erection from his boxers. You stare wide eyed at his length before your eyes shoot up to his. He can see the trepidation in your gaze and rushes to ease it, his words stopping you before you can object to going further.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t go all the way, just the tip, alright?”

“I-”

“It doesn’t count if it’s just the tip.” He doesn’t know where the lie comes from, all he knows is he needs to be inside of you right now. He needs to feel you around him. Besides, he reasons, it doesn’t matter much anyway. And his words seem to reassure you as you allow him to continue.

He doesn’t have time to play with you, despite how badly he wants to. He’s not even sure he’s going to last very long as it is, his tip is throbbing and he’s ready to bust any minute.

He lines the head of his cock up to your entrance and pushes the tiniest bit inside of you, moaning at how warm and wet you are for him as you squeak at the intrusion.

You expect him to pull out from you but he doesn’t.

“Just a little more,” he husks, voice rough. You look up at him helplessly, mouth agape and eyes pleading. You don’t say anything, though. You trust him, right? You’re laying naked beneath him in his bed, completely exposed and vulnerable. You trust him.

You trust him.

Lee pushes into you further and you let out a sharp gasp at the twinge of pain that it brings. He’s thick and the stretch from his girth stings. The further he enters you, the more it hurts. Your eyes are brimming with tears and you grasp onto him desperately. The feeling of your nails digging into him only spurs him on.

“Lee,” you whimper. He smothers your cries as he kisses you hard and desperately.

He forces his cock even further, to the hilt when he’s nearly flush against you as he whines at the way your tight walls grip him. Your eyes are wide as you gape and cry at how full you are. Stunned that he somehow is all the way inside of you. Lee rocks against you, his cock hitting all the right spots as he fucks into you over and over; pants and moans tumbling from his lips as he chases his high.

The pain eventually eases into a delightful, yet burning pleasure as he keeps you stuffed with him, never pulling out past his tip. He loses himself in the pleasure, thrusting into you harder, hitting ever deeper. You’re crying again, the pleasure becoming unbearable but not being pushed over the edge yet.

Lee looks at your face and slows his fervent pace slightly, bringing a hand to wipe at your cheek.

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I couldn’t help it. But it feels good, doesn’t it? Feels right having my cock in this tight little cunt a’yours,” he grunts. His vulgar language catches you off guard, but the way it makes you feel hearing them surprises you even more. Your velvety walls pulse around Lee’s length as an unbidden moan leaves you and you grip him tightly.

Lee’s smile is beautiful, no matter how salacious it is. His speed picks up again as he pounds into you; though you can tell, somehow, he isn’t using his full strength as he’s trying to be mindful of not hurting you.

No matter what, you already know you’ll be sore tomorrow. You can feel the ache even now.

“Just what you’ve been wantin’, what you’ve been waitin’ for, ain’t it. Been waitin’ for my stiff, fat cock to fill you up just like this. Been waitin’ for me haven’t you. Perfect fucking fit, sweetheart. God damn perfect.”

He punctuates each praise with a deep snap of his hips against yours. You can feel every inch of him as he has his way with you, your body easily moving to his will. With each thrust, the bed frame hits the wall behind it and the noise collides with the sound of his skin slapping against yours; the lewd noises of your arousal and the sounds spilling freely from you as Lee keeps on.

“Look at these tits,” he admires in a growl. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, baby.” Lee can feel his end coming, his balls tightening as your pussy refuses to loosen up around him. He can feel the throbbing and lets out a pained groan.

“You gonna let me come inside you, huh? Want me to fill you up just the way a pretty little thing like you deserves,” he rasps, panting as he gets closer and closer.

“No,” you squeak out, voice tight and eyes wide at his words.

“No, Lee, wait,-” you say as he exclaims over you in the same moment.

“Oh, fuck,-” he strains.

He’s already coming, filling you up with his spend as he slows his thrusts, yet ensuring each one hits deeper. He makes sure to get every last bit of his cum out as his balls pulse, your pussy still milking him only aiding in his desire to leave you dripping.

You moan loudly at the feeling of his come painting your walls, completely unable to contain yourself despite the worry that is running somewhere in the back of your mind.

“‘M sorry, sweetheart,” he breathes out heavily as he drops his weight down on top of you, letting his face fall into the crook of your neck, leaving soft kisses as he lazily continues to rock against you. “I couldn’t hold it. Ya feel too good wrapped around me. It’s nice, though, ain’t it? Bein’ stuffed full a’me,” he asks confidently, smirking against your skin as you mewl pathetically underneath him.

The angle he's at provides perfect stimulation to your clit as your back arches off the bed and you gasp out your pleasure while it consumes you. You aren’t really processing his words or anything aside from the sparks of electricity it feels is running through you. Your whole body tenses and your legs shake around Lee as you come for the second time.

“Feels good,” you whine, “Feels so good, Lee.”

You cry out again, clutching him as Lee readjusts and moves against you, rocking his hips to prolong your bliss.

When your body laxes, he gently slips out of you; a sticky mess left in his wake.

You’re dazed and exhausted and sore. You don’t even realize Lee left the bed until he comes back with a damp cloth, cleaning between your legs for you as you wince slightly.

He discards the cloth as he gets back into the bed, taking you in his arms as you bury your face in his chest. Shame nips at you as you really start thinking about everything.

Lee’s palms are soothing up and down your back as your breathing picks up.

“I shouldn’t have done that, Lee,” you say, trying not to cry. “I was waiting. I was supposed to wait.”

“Hey,” he coos, “look at me, darlin’.”

You meekly do as he says, your puppy dog eyes on full display of their own volition as you pout.

“I promised I’d take care a’you, didn’t I?”

You nod.

“Then there ain’t nothin’ for you to worry about. You haven’t done a thing wrong, sweetheart.”

You don’t argue, only settle against him once more. Despite how filthy his words were mere minutes ago, you aren’t blind to how sweet and gentle he’s kept his touch, treating you with such care. And of course, now you’re both out of the near frenzied, lust fueled haze, his words are just as kind and reassuring as they’ve always been. You can breathe easier at that, knowing Lee is exactly as you imagined he’d be, even in private. It’s clear how much he cares about you and you find yourself feeling so grateful, despite any underlying worries.

The one solace in all this is how nice it feels to be this close to him. To have him holding you and comforting you. It’s a dream. And it feels so right.

Lee pulls the comforter around your bodies as your eyes start to drift closed.

Tomorrow the stress can return to you and the worries can begin anew, but for right now, you’re going to bask in the much needed relief and ease that’s overcoming you while you lay in Lee’s arms.

You're so tired you don’t even hear him as he continues, murmuring softly as his lips brush against your head.

“‘Sides, it’s about the who, not the when. And you’re mine now, just the way I’m yours, darlin’. Don’t you worry bout a thing.”

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cptn-sgrogers · 2 years ago

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Title: Rise by the Birdsong Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!Reader Rating: M Summary: In which you soothe Daemon's wounded ego and pride after he loses in a tournament. Warnings: Typically Westerosi shenanigans.

HE SUMMONS YOU to his chambers in the hours after the tourney and feast —the taste of defeat still bitter on his tongue. Hubris cost him the victory. He had the Merryweather boy cornered. It should have been easy, yet he was forced to yield the champion's title and purse. Daemon Targaryen drapes his arms over the side of the tub and thinks of who he would have named as the Queen of Love and Beauty had he won. Certainly not Rhea Royce —the old bronze bitch. He’s more apt to name one of the sheep before her. The thought fades when the doors creak open, his guards letting you pass into the prince’s chambers.

Steam fills the room, as does the scent of Myrish oils. Your skin prickles with heat for reasons that have nothing to do with the warmth of the air when your eyes settle on Daemon at the center of the room. You wondered where he’d gone so quickly after the feast. His eyes flash open as your footfalls echo on the stone floor until you stop beside the tub and kneel. “My prince,” you greet. He’s always liked how you say his title, sweet and taunting, nigh like a songbird. Glancing away from his face and following the line of his arm and the planes of his chest. He’s all lean and lithe muscle, sculpted from years of training and battle —the most seasoned warrior in all of the Seven Kingdoms.

Daemon takes your hand, reclaiming your attention. His fingers curl around yours, then he shifts and leans toward you, head dipping down to press a soft kiss to your knuckles —a knightly and unexpected gesture. He lets your hand go and settles back in the tub, and the look of an arrogant prince reclaims his expression. “Take off your dress,” Daemon demands, flicking the surface of the water. Ever the dutiful lady, you rise and reach for the ties of your nightdress —shedding the pale linen, baring yourself to Prince Daemon Targaryen.

He's been soaking for nigh half-an-hour, and the water is still warm —fire cannot harm a dragon, he told you once whilst he held his hand above a candle, toying with the flame. You sink into the water and find the space he’s made next to him, head half-resting on his shoulder. Daemon drapes his arm around your shoulders, and wordlessly, you begin tracing mindless patterns on his chest. “You fought well today,” you tell him after a while, thinking of how handsome he looked in his dark steel suit emblazoned with the sigil of House Targaryen and decorated with rubies.

“I lost,” he reminds you, no lack of bitterness in his voice. He’d find a way to best the Merryweather boy, somehow.

You reach for his hand, and he lets you take it, curious brows raised. “Yet they all speak of how commendable your effort and skills are” —your fingers find the scars on his knuckles, the calloused pads of his fingertips. “Reputation is its own victory,” you tell him, placing a kiss to the center of his palm before he retracts his hand.

Daemon looks down at you. “Trying to mend my broken heart?”

You trace a curving line over his breast and up his neck, caressing his smooth and sharp jaw. “It’s I who am heartbroken, Daemon,” you say, smiling. He cuts his eyes at you, something dangerous lurking in his stare. “You told me you’d gift me a crown of roses upon your victory, and here I am, crownless.”

His lips quirk upward. “Dare speak to your prince with such impertinence?” His touch against your cheek is gentle, but you can still hear the slightest hint of a laugh in his voice. It’s the look in his cool eyes that speak of danger, though —he’s always been as wild and unpredictable as his dragon. You hold your breath as you look at him, expecting his kiss when he careens forward in the water, and when he leans in to meet your mouth, you’re struck by how desperate it feels in comparison to all the other times.

You’re impatient for more —always more— feeling his smile growing as he kisses you again, and you’re happy to give the Rogue Prince whatever he wishes. He always brings out your worse impulses. Sighing against his mouth, his tongue brushes against yours. He tastes like the spices from dinner, warm and enticing, and there’s still a hint of sweet wine lingering on his lips. Not even a maiden could refuse Daemon Targaryen after a single kiss like this —you hadn’t been able to either, but now all that is in the past. His fingers run along your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, and the little moan you make is music.

“Who else would keep you on your toes if not I?” You question, breathless. Daemon hums his agreement against your neck, lips trailing further down your pulse.

He pulls you close against him until you’re nearly in his lap —his cock twitches against your leg, but he brushes you off when you try to reach for him. He’d not summoned you tonight for a quick fuck. Daemon’s hands trace along your ribs to cup your breasts and feel your nipples stiffen in his palm, and his slight hum of approval makes your thighs squeeze together instinctively. Tonight, he’s more interested in having his hands on you instead —reparations for his failure to give you a rose crown.

“Open your legs,” he orders, a hot whisper at your ear, and you do so without a second thought. His hand slips between them, teasing briefly over your inner thighs before he’s touching you. Your voice is a breathy whimper as you feel him stroke slowly over the folds of your cunt and up to circle your clit. He doesn’t enter you yet, not until he can get his fill of watching you squirm and shudder from such simple attention. “What would Lord Mooton say if he could see precious his daughter like this?” Daemon relents to your soft pleas and slips two fingers into you. You shudder against him as he works in and out of you, breath catching. Your father is the last thing you want to think of with Daemon’s fingers buried in your cunt. “You like this?” He asks, well aware of how quickly he has you rutting into his hand for more stimulation.

“Yes, Daemon,” you insist, wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck to draw his lips down to yours. His thumb rolls across your clit, and your head falls back.

His kiss is less fierce this time, deep and slow until your lungs ache. You can sense his mood improving as he fucks you with his hand, relishing all the little noises you make for him. “You’re mine, little dove,” he breathes in your ear, and you can’t disagree when your cunt is already squeezing so tight around him. He brushes over your clit again, and you lean your head forward to his shoulder this time. “I won’t let you wed another.” You know he speaks true.

You whimper when he nibbles at your earlobe. Cautiously, you move to touch him and slowly trace down his stomach and past his navel, earning you the smallest laugh of amusement from him. Permission enough to touch him. You take his hard cock in your hand, and he lets out a pleased sigh as you begin to stroke him. Watching him is mesmerizing, his movements as graceful as ever even as he rocks his hips into your touch, though his own rhythm between your thighs stutters momentarily with distraction. “Yours,” you agree between long kisses. The Seven and the Old Gods be damned, you’d made your bed among the dragons and intended to lay in it.

Both of you stay like that for a while, enjoying the feel of your bodies as you work to get each other off. He’s better at it than you are —this Lord of Flea Bottom— and it doesn’t take long to have you panting hard with every brush of his fingers inside you. He can tell you’re close from the way you’re clenching around his fingers, his tongue muffling greedy moans.

“Let me see you,” he says, and you’re powerless to deny him when you lift your head from his shoulder. His thumb brushes over your clit harder, and the tension in your body snaps, your arms wrapping around his back and holding him to you in a desperate need to ground yourself as you come on his fingers. Daemon’s fingers keep moving inside you, teasing you through your orgasm until you’re a dazed mess for him. You give yourself several long moments to recover, breathing in the perfumed steam of the bath to slow your frantic heartbeat. He withdraws his hand from between your legs, and you can’t hide your disappointment at the newly empty feeling inside you.

Daemon rises from the water —his cock hard and straining against his belly— and offers his hand to help you out of the tub, leading you over to his bed. You lay back as he wishes, and he parts your thighs again, rubbing along the wetness he finds there and lifts his fingers to his lips to taste you. The noise Daemon makes is a promise of next time, but you’re given no time to dwell on the thought when he crawls over you and settles between your legs, the head of his cock just pressing into your cunt —unexpected, he usually takes you like a bitch in heat.

Your hips rut up towards his impatiently, and a moment later, he’s inside you. He hisses sharply but can’t stop the roll of his hips, pushing his cock deeper into you. It’s a newfound boldness you do not wish to relinquish. “Behave,” Daemon scolds, but there’s none of the usual annoyance or ire in his voice. His mouth eager on yours as he guides your arms up to pin your wrists above your head. “Stay still.” You do. Relaxing into the down blankets and pillows while he laves your neck and breasts with affection.

His thumb brushes over your nipple, and he hears how you stutter out his name, and it only spurs his need to have you like this. “What a good little dove you are.” Daemon smirks, and you have to look away, almost ashamed of how red your face turns at his praises, but you squirm beneath him as he strokes along a sensitive spot inside of you.

You feel his lips ghosting over your closed eyelids, and you peek one open to watch him. There’s the faintest flush across his face as he stares down at you with such raw hunger it feels like you’re going to burn up from the heat of your bodies —like Caraxes has bathed you both in flames. You want to touch him, to run your fingers through his silver hair and down the toned muscles of his shoulders and back. You flex them impatiently but keep your hands obediently where he’d placed them.

He pinches a nipple between his fingers, and you jolt, letting out a shaky moan that has his cock throbbing inside you, and it rips a harsh groan from his lips. You reach for him without thinking, dragging your nails across his scalp before he takes your wrists and presses them harder into the bed. You wriggle under him and only earn a quick nip to your earlobe. “Told you to behave,” he reminds you sternly, but his scolding only makes you clench around him tighter. Daemon curses and his next kiss is hot and demanding, and you part your lips for his tongue without a moment’s hesitation.

“Please, Daemon,” you whimper, and he knows what it is you want and gives a small nod of agreement. You reach for him again, going for his silver locks to bring him back down into another kiss. You hold tight to him when he tries to separate, keeping his chest flush against yours, whispering and whimpering his name like sacred prayers as he presses himself deeper into you —his pelvis grinding against your clit.

He thrusts into you harder while stroking your clit, and you unravel for him, tension running through you like dragonfire until you’re unable to do anything more than shudder beneath him. “Daemon,” you whimper, muscles twitching uselessly as he teases you through it. You’re too focused on your blood pounding in your ears to fully appreciate his reaction to you, his breaths ragged, and pupils blown wide with his own arousal at how you spasm around his aching cock. It’s a sight you’re not like to see again —you very well may never see your prince like this again.

You try to wrap yourself around his waist and pull him further into you —wanting to help him find his release— but instead, your legs are pressed firmly into the bed. “No,” he says through rough kisses, the last one nipping sharply at your bottom lip. He groans, feeling his cock twitch in anticipation of release.

Daemon pulls out of your cunt and leaves you empty. You almost complain, but he shushes you by dragging your hand down to his cock —slick and throbbing from all your efforts— and you follow his lead without instruction. His fingers are warm around yours as he guides you. He looks tragically beautiful when he comes, his head tilted back and mouth slightly open in a sharp gasp at the shiver running through his body. His cock twitches in your grasp, coating your hand and stomach in his sticky seed —he won’t risk a bastard child.

He moves to lay beside you, more relaxed than he’s been in a fortnight. You roll onto your side and look him over. This is far from your first time entertaining the prince in his bed —even being of noble blood, you know how this works. All the Seven Kingdoms know you are his mistress, even true love perhaps, but he is already sworn to another, and you must act as though the whispers and rumors are lies. It always hurts when you must leave, but you’d been foolish enough to cast your heart to the son of the dragon, and now you must suffer the price. “Do you require anything else, my prince?” You query.

Daemon turns his head to look at you, flushed and glowing. “Mmm” —he reaches for you, fingers trailing along your cheek and back into your hair— “stay.” The request surprises you, but you’ll indulge him and your own heart. A comfortable silence lingers until Daemon shifts, gathering you up in his arms to lay you down on the bed properly and offers a rag to clean yourself with as he does the same. When he returns to your side, Daemon rests his head on your breast and lets you hold him, humming sweetly as the songbirds, to an age-old lullaby. We'll sleep when the morning comes, and we'll rise by the sound of the birdsongs. And the morning will come too soon.

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