Smut 69: Sweet Nothings
Title: Drunk or sober, it's just wrong.
Prompt: #44 Sweet Nothings
Character: Alex Eames (+ other)
Warnings: Suggested underage
Summary: Even though everything about it is wrong, Detective Jimmy can't get her out of his mind.
Detective Jimmy Deakins went to the toy store late on Sunday. After a night spent on the couch and Mass the next morning alone, he gave up trying to figure out how he'd pissed off his wife. At least he could take care of his little girl. No part of his conscious mind considered he might see the ridiculously young girl who worked there.
When he got to the shop, the set of attic furniture was there, neatly wrapped with his daughter's name on it. Alex was not. He didn't ask after her or look around at all. Instead he paid for the set and headed for a bar. After some bad food and just enough beer to skirt the legal limit, he headed home. The baby was already asleep and Angie just looked from him to the couch and shrugged before going back upstairs to her book.
He was too tipsy to control his thoughts once he got himself settled on the couch. Unlike before, when his body took over, this time Jimmy was drunk enough to push his hand roughly into his boxers and jerk himself erect. It wasn't rational, it wasn't right, and he would probably burn in hell for it, but he couldn't stop thinking about her. The way she looked when she took her cap off and the moment when they realized the attraction was mutual.
Her eyes had gone so wide, the rich brown filled with emotion, and if he'd looked into them for one more moment he would have kissed her. He tightened his hand around his cock and groaned with the sure knowledge that given an instant's privacy he would have French kissed a child. A little girl.
He could hear her in the car that night telling her boyfriend she was ready. As he rubbed his thumb over the head of his cock, he heard her moaning his name instead. He heard that sweet child with the cotton candy begging him to take her. No matter how wrong it was, his cock leapt in his hand and was harder than it had been in a long time.
The worst part was he didn't just picture them grappling in a car the way he had in his dream. He held her hand at the carnival and pulled her to a secluded corner to kiss her more. In his drunken fantasy, she was his date, his companion. She went with him willingly, reaching down to caress his cock through his pants. Such small, slim hands and she unzipped him without asking, sliding her hand in to grasp his cock.
Jimmy bucked and swore, furious for wanting her. If she'd been angry or scared, he wouldn't be thinking of her now. Instead he saw an expression he hadn't seen on his wife's face in a long time. His hand tightened around his cock and he reached down with his other to caress his balls. This was more attention than his cock had gotten in weeks. Picturing her dark eyes looking up at him with that flash of need pushed him to the edge.
Knowing how wrong it was, knowing that if he had her naked before him he would see still forming breasts and the flawless skin of a child, he still craved her. He wanted to taste that perfect skin and feel her writhing beneath him. His wanted to see his fingers closing over her breasts, making her moan. If she were in a bed, safe from prying eyes, would she be loud? Would she throw her head back and cry out when he pinched her nipples or sucked on them? She had to be so sensitive.
Using her laughter and squeals of joy when the won the octopus, he imagined how she sounded when he worked his stiff cock into her depths. Only one lover and one who couldn't possibly have had any control meant she would be unspeakably tight. Every thrust would open her. Every thrust would be a possession. Her world would shrink to his relentlessly claim her body. Nothing mattered but the pleasure they gave each other.
His hips lifted off the couch, his drunken imagination switching gears to how she'd sounded in the car. The same need he saw in her eyes at the carnival was in her voice then. She wanted to learn, to feel, to share pleasure. He'd teach her. He'd sit in a deep chair with his legs spread for her to kneel between. With one hand he'd hold her long hair back so he could see her perfect mouth wrap around the cock he held out to her with his other hand. Her eyes would be on him, studying every twitch and grimace to see if she did the right thing.
It would all be right. Even if the pressure was too light for a while until she learned what he could take, even if she caught him painfully with her teeth or didn't move fast enough, every move would be right. He groaned thickly and stopped the rough strokes he'd been keeping up, almost overcome by the image of her working so hard to learn what he liked. She'd do it because she knew the minute she was done he'd return the favor, sending her spiraling toward climax after climax.
He heard movement upstairs, but didn't care. He was too hurt, too angry and too damn drunk to care about anything but his throbbing balls and the whimpering pleas of a girl he had no right to ever think about. She rode him now, her athletic thighs clasping his hips as she bounced on his cock. Every bounce slapped her ass against his tightening balls and sent his cock deep enough into her to make her grunt with pleasure. He could see the almost childish glee on her face as her release approached.
He came just as Angie walked into the living room. His head fell back and he moaned loudly as he emptied over his belly. He knew he looked like the worst kind of drunken fool, but he didn't care. She didn't want him drunk or sober. She waited until he cleaned himself up a little before informing him that the baby's fever had broken. He shrugged. She hadn't told him the girl had one.
He left for work the next morning without a word to Angie although he spent a lot of time fussing over the baby. He dressed with particular care, knowing the implication would inflame the tension between them. Drunk covered his actions the night before, but in the light of day he was still hurt by the way she'd acted about the carnival. Dressing up and ignoring her was admittedly childish, but it was the only weapon he had at that moment. He would come home right on time and be the most solicitous father he could be.
When Jimmy got to work he discovered the open case he'd planned to spend the day on had closed over night when his perp had a moment of clarity and turned himself in. The morning was spent on reams of paperwork and it didn't take long for his mind to wander. First he went to his wife but the hurt was too strong. When he started thinking of Alex, he knew things were getting out of hand. Drunk fantasies were one thing, but the sudden image of her kneeling under his desk was too much.
Remembering what she said about her father, he went looking for her in the departmental records. It shouldn't be too hard to find her old man. She'd be listed as a dependent. One look at her birthday would clear it all up. If he saw it in black and white that would be the reminder he needed that she was a child. She was off limits, even to his subconscious.
She was there, listed with her mother and siblings on the file of one John Eames. He looked like a good cop and Jimmy thought maybe he'd heard of him. Alex's birthdate was the last thing he looked at. He read the numbers three times, doing the math in his head. Closing the file, he got up and lurched toward the squad room door. His partner gave him a funny look, but Jimmy waved him away.
He was two blocks away before he had to stop and lean against a wall. He shook as his revulsion at himself grew. Three times he'd read that number and each time he'd thought the same thing.
In less than two months she'd be seventeen. In less than two months she'd reach the legal age of consent.
Table
1448
Prompt: #44 Sweet Nothings
Character: Alex Eames (+ other)
Warnings: Suggested underage
Summary: Even though everything about it is wrong, Detective Jimmy can't get her out of his mind.
Detective Jimmy Deakins went to the toy store late on Sunday. After a night spent on the couch and Mass the next morning alone, he gave up trying to figure out how he'd pissed off his wife. At least he could take care of his little girl. No part of his conscious mind considered he might see the ridiculously young girl who worked there.
When he got to the shop, the set of attic furniture was there, neatly wrapped with his daughter's name on it. Alex was not. He didn't ask after her or look around at all. Instead he paid for the set and headed for a bar. After some bad food and just enough beer to skirt the legal limit, he headed home. The baby was already asleep and Angie just looked from him to the couch and shrugged before going back upstairs to her book.
He was too tipsy to control his thoughts once he got himself settled on the couch. Unlike before, when his body took over, this time Jimmy was drunk enough to push his hand roughly into his boxers and jerk himself erect. It wasn't rational, it wasn't right, and he would probably burn in hell for it, but he couldn't stop thinking about her. The way she looked when she took her cap off and the moment when they realized the attraction was mutual.
Her eyes had gone so wide, the rich brown filled with emotion, and if he'd looked into them for one more moment he would have kissed her. He tightened his hand around his cock and groaned with the sure knowledge that given an instant's privacy he would have French kissed a child. A little girl.
He could hear her in the car that night telling her boyfriend she was ready. As he rubbed his thumb over the head of his cock, he heard her moaning his name instead. He heard that sweet child with the cotton candy begging him to take her. No matter how wrong it was, his cock leapt in his hand and was harder than it had been in a long time.
The worst part was he didn't just picture them grappling in a car the way he had in his dream. He held her hand at the carnival and pulled her to a secluded corner to kiss her more. In his drunken fantasy, she was his date, his companion. She went with him willingly, reaching down to caress his cock through his pants. Such small, slim hands and she unzipped him without asking, sliding her hand in to grasp his cock.
Jimmy bucked and swore, furious for wanting her. If she'd been angry or scared, he wouldn't be thinking of her now. Instead he saw an expression he hadn't seen on his wife's face in a long time. His hand tightened around his cock and he reached down with his other to caress his balls. This was more attention than his cock had gotten in weeks. Picturing her dark eyes looking up at him with that flash of need pushed him to the edge.
Knowing how wrong it was, knowing that if he had her naked before him he would see still forming breasts and the flawless skin of a child, he still craved her. He wanted to taste that perfect skin and feel her writhing beneath him. His wanted to see his fingers closing over her breasts, making her moan. If she were in a bed, safe from prying eyes, would she be loud? Would she throw her head back and cry out when he pinched her nipples or sucked on them? She had to be so sensitive.
Using her laughter and squeals of joy when the won the octopus, he imagined how she sounded when he worked his stiff cock into her depths. Only one lover and one who couldn't possibly have had any control meant she would be unspeakably tight. Every thrust would open her. Every thrust would be a possession. Her world would shrink to his relentlessly claim her body. Nothing mattered but the pleasure they gave each other.
His hips lifted off the couch, his drunken imagination switching gears to how she'd sounded in the car. The same need he saw in her eyes at the carnival was in her voice then. She wanted to learn, to feel, to share pleasure. He'd teach her. He'd sit in a deep chair with his legs spread for her to kneel between. With one hand he'd hold her long hair back so he could see her perfect mouth wrap around the cock he held out to her with his other hand. Her eyes would be on him, studying every twitch and grimace to see if she did the right thing.
It would all be right. Even if the pressure was too light for a while until she learned what he could take, even if she caught him painfully with her teeth or didn't move fast enough, every move would be right. He groaned thickly and stopped the rough strokes he'd been keeping up, almost overcome by the image of her working so hard to learn what he liked. She'd do it because she knew the minute she was done he'd return the favor, sending her spiraling toward climax after climax.
He heard movement upstairs, but didn't care. He was too hurt, too angry and too damn drunk to care about anything but his throbbing balls and the whimpering pleas of a girl he had no right to ever think about. She rode him now, her athletic thighs clasping his hips as she bounced on his cock. Every bounce slapped her ass against his tightening balls and sent his cock deep enough into her to make her grunt with pleasure. He could see the almost childish glee on her face as her release approached.
He came just as Angie walked into the living room. His head fell back and he moaned loudly as he emptied over his belly. He knew he looked like the worst kind of drunken fool, but he didn't care. She didn't want him drunk or sober. She waited until he cleaned himself up a little before informing him that the baby's fever had broken. He shrugged. She hadn't told him the girl had one.
He left for work the next morning without a word to Angie although he spent a lot of time fussing over the baby. He dressed with particular care, knowing the implication would inflame the tension between them. Drunk covered his actions the night before, but in the light of day he was still hurt by the way she'd acted about the carnival. Dressing up and ignoring her was admittedly childish, but it was the only weapon he had at that moment. He would come home right on time and be the most solicitous father he could be.
When Jimmy got to work he discovered the open case he'd planned to spend the day on had closed over night when his perp had a moment of clarity and turned himself in. The morning was spent on reams of paperwork and it didn't take long for his mind to wander. First he went to his wife but the hurt was too strong. When he started thinking of Alex, he knew things were getting out of hand. Drunk fantasies were one thing, but the sudden image of her kneeling under his desk was too much.
Remembering what she said about her father, he went looking for her in the departmental records. It shouldn't be too hard to find her old man. She'd be listed as a dependent. One look at her birthday would clear it all up. If he saw it in black and white that would be the reminder he needed that she was a child. She was off limits, even to his subconscious.
She was there, listed with her mother and siblings on the file of one John Eames. He looked like a good cop and Jimmy thought maybe he'd heard of him. Alex's birthdate was the last thing he looked at. He read the numbers three times, doing the math in his head. Closing the file, he got up and lurched toward the squad room door. His partner gave him a funny look, but Jimmy waved him away.
He was two blocks away before he had to stop and lean against a wall. He shook as his revulsion at himself grew. Three times he'd read that number and each time he'd thought the same thing.
In less than two months she'd be seventeen. In less than two months she'd reach the legal age of consent.
Table
1448