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thatdeaniegirlsworld · 1 year

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The Con Artist | Part 2

Summary: You're onto Harry and decide to take a trip North to get away for a bit but you can't escape him and things kind of get out of hand when you find yourself cuffed to a bed in Harry's motel room.

Warning: Mentions of being drugged, masturbation, mentions of drinking alcohol and inebriation, vomit, a heated scene turned intimate (is that something to be warned of?)

10k words

A/n: detective!harry x criminal!reader This is part 2 of this series. Find Part 1 HERE, Part 3 Here Part 4 Here Part 5 Here Part 6 Here

◈ ◈ ◈

“Fuck…” Harry groaned when you walked out the door.

He fucked up. Majorly. He could have totally just blown his cover. Blown the case. You were on to something and you got freaked out and left in a rush.

He couldn’t figure out what you’d suddenly realized. Or what happened even. He pulled on his briefs and checked his wallet that was sitting on the side table. He checked his luggage and picked up his pants from the floor, reaching into his pocket and found his money clip there with all the cash he’d put in it. You hadn’t taken a single thing.

He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face before collapsing back onto his bed.

Being a detective for 3 years had been a decent gig. Harry didn’t have many breaks but he was onto you and if he could finally catch you it would be big for his career. Not only would he be putting a violent criminal (not violent in the traditional sense) away, you were gorgeous. You were sure to make headlines once caught. It would boost Harry’s name and his chops because he knew he’d be named lead detective on the case in any article written about you.

Your offense was bad. You’d tricked a lot of men into bringing you into their homes, drugged them, and then stole from them. That is called infliction of bodily harm to commit a felony. You were facing some serious accusations given how many times you’d done it (of the ones that were reported). You could be put in prison for life. Multiple decades at a minimum.

Harry was meant to only go to the Warwick, not get noticed, follow you with your victim back to his place, and then catch you in the act, bringing you down once and for all. All he needed was the last piece of evidence, the actual proof that you were guilty of the crimes that he thought you were.

But that’s not what happened at all. When Harry approached you in Liberty Park after following you from the café where you bought a latte and a pastry he realized you were even prettier in close proximity. His fucking knees nearly buckled when he heard your pretty voice and saw the way you smiled at him. The way you very subtly flirted with him. But he may or may not have been subtly flirting with you as well. He couldn’t help it. In normal circumstances, he’d be pursuing you hard and begging for a date. But you were a wanted criminal. And he was a detective.

And so when he followed you from your apartment complex to the Warwick he had full intentions to go through with his original plan. Despite the hot little silky dress you were wearing. He tried not to imagine peeling it off your body and wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling your nipples into his mouth. He tried. He really did.

But then when he saw you making eyes with a man across from you he realized he didn’t want to see you leaving with anyone. He wanted you to leave with him. Your short dress rode up your thigh when you sat and crossed your leg and Harry was suddenly making his way across the room to you without a second thought. His primal side took over and he wanted you. He was going to have you. This was not his normal attitude when it came to work.

Stupid man, Harry thought to himself.

Before he left his room, he put on a nice suit, casual, not too fancy, but nice enough to get into any club around. And he also only needed to flash his badge and he’d be let in anywhere. He knew you’d be on the prowl for your next victim and that you’d likely go to a club to pick one.

He tidied up the room and when he reached into his luggage he felt the box of condoms. He put them in an easily accessible spot just in case. Even though he was on assignment undercover, he could still have some fun. He could potentially pick someone up that evening if you didn’t wind up picking a victim. He just didn’t expect that it would be you he brought back to his room. That had been a big mistake on his part. Huge mistake. It was bad. The whole case could be down the drain because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

He just got carried away with you. You were flirty and interested in him and that fed his ego. He already knew quite a lot about you and found you very intriguing. And clearly tempting. Which was annoying because he’d probably just fucked everything up by bringing you back to his room. Bringing you back to his room was supposed to be a last-ditch scenario. Which is why he was in the Ritz. He had to appear to be someone whom you might steal from. But he wasn’t supposed to bring you back to his room yet.

And that’s just what happened. He brought you to his room, fully intending on keeping you for the night. But you caught on to something. He just didn’t know what. You really had him in a tailspin. He was so confused by what had happened. He could figure something out and still catch you in the act on another day, sure. But it was just frustrating how he let his cock do the thinking for him. How your eyes and your soft voice were all he could think about. And that was the confusing part. Even knowing what you’d done, he was drawn to you.

Harry looked at his cell phone and pulled up your number. He needed to play dumb. To act like he couldn’t understand why you’d left in a rush. Well, the truth was he actually didn’t know why you left. Maybe it was just a coincidence. But he knew deep down you were no fool and something had tipped you off. He just couldn’t figure out what. So, he’d play dumb until he could catch you.

He began to type out his message to you but he wasn’t sure what to say. Then he began overthinking what he’d say, wondering if texting too soon was a good idea or not. Or should he wait until tomorrow? And what would he even say?

Harry groaned and put his cell phone down on the bed. His cock was still hard. You turned him on so fast. He was hard in the taxi on the way to his hotel room. He closed his eyes and pressed on himself. Imagining how your lips felt on him, how your tongue lapped all over the skin on his prick and dipped into his slit. And your naked body. God, that was a surprise. You were so soft and pretty and you smelled so nice.

But then you suddenly got a faraway look in your eyes when you were sitting in his lap just before he opened up the condom wrapper. He stopped what he was doing when he felt the air shift around you both. You said you were fine but it was like you just never came back from wherever you went and that was it.

Harry pushed his briefs down and wrapped his hand around his shaft. He needed to finish what was started.

With the taste of you still on his face and in his nose, he spit into his hand and pumped himself slowly. Your pretty noises and sweet gasps wouldn’t be forgotten. The goosebumps on your skin when you came, the way you grasped his hair and said his name.

Harry came quickly to the image of you naked on his lap, and your wet pussy pressing over his thick cock. The fact that you hadn’t shaved was also a turn-on. Harry didn’t have a preference for shaved or not, but the way your pussy looked against him was what did him in. He spurted warm come over his tummy and into his hand, smoothing it over his cock with a panted moan.

Man was he fucked.

◈ ◈ ◈

You didn’t know what it was about Harry that suddenly had your hackles raised. Something wasn’t right. He was fucking gorgeous and you were kicking yourself on your way back to your apartment for running out like you did because he seemed so harmless and god was he hot. But something… something else was at play.

The more you thought about it, the more confident you felt that you’d made the right decision, despite really wanting him to fuck you. To see him twice in one day? A man from out of town. He approached you twice. The first time could be nothing but in the Warwick? Why didn’t you see it then?

And the suit he wore was nice, but it wasn’t a suit a rich man would wear. You were all too aware of the basics. He was staying in an expensive room, sure, but what else about him gave you the idea that he had money? It was almost like a strange setup. Like the room was for show but he forgot to do anything else that pointed to money. Or maybe you were just overthinking it. No, you weren’t overthinking. The condoms in the side table? The way he approached you at Victory Park and the Warwick.

He was either a cop or someone trailing you, hired by one of your victims. And what did he say he did for work? He didn’t. Suspicious. He also didn’t ask what you did for work. Very suspicious.

Back at your apartment you undressed, slid your robe on, and started the kettle for tea. You needed to calm down. Your mind was racing with thoughts of Harry and what his game was. You’d need to lay low for a bit. Harry could be on to you somehow. So, if you just went about your day and did random shit maybe you’d spot him following you then you’d know for sure he wasn’t just some man who coincidentally bumped into you twice in one day.

You were hypnotized by him at the Warwick. That’s why you left with him. You weren’t thinking with your brain when you got into a taxi to head back to his hotel room, that’s for sure. You were just glad that you suddenly snapped out of it and saw the situation for what it was; odd.

You sighed as you sat with a hot mug of tea on your couch. You couldn’t even turn the TV on to distract yourself. Your mind wouldn’t stop moving and questioning everything.

You checked your phone and still, there was nothing from Harry. Which was the only thing he’d done that night that made any sense. Texting you after you ran off would be another red flag. A regular dude would be licking his wounds and too embarrassed to reach out so soon.

You had a lot of thinking and planning to do. Work would need to be paused for a bit. But you were glad you had enough money stashed and saved that it was okay to take some time off. You could use a nice vacation anyway.

Maybe you’d go see your mom. It had been a bit since you’d seen her. Since you moved to LA two years ago, in fact. You called her every few days, though. You were in touch. But it would be nice to see her face. You missed her.

Your sleep was restless. You couldn’t stop thinking about Harry and what was going on. You didn’t know if you should actually be scared or not. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was a total coincidence, the whole thing. But you couldn’t ignore it. Despite how fucking hot he was. God if you could have just felt it inside of you… but you tried to push those thoughts down. You didn’t dare think about how his abs clenched when you ran your tongue over his frenulum, or the groan he made when you dabbed a kiss along the vein underneath his shaft. You certainly didn’t allow yourself to remember how his big hands held you down as he sucked on your clit and made you come in his mouth. His bright, clear eyes on yours that grew dark with lust the moment he saw your tits – which then reminded you that you left your fucking stupid sticky bra in his room. In your haste to leave you pulled your dress up and stuffed your panties into your purse then slid your heels on that were sitting by the door on your way out.

“Goddamnit!” You whisper shouted to yourself thinking about the bra. It was a decent one too. Sticky bras generally didn’t last forever but the one you had was expensive and it looked like a real bra on your breasts and was soft. The cups would stay sticky for a bunch of wears, as long as you cleaned it after each use and put it into its special little case.

So, you didn’t sleep well. If at all. Your mind didn’t stop assaulting you throughout the night. Plus the idea of driving North to Cottonwood to see your mom was daunting. It would be something like a 9-hour drive. But, it could be fun. Have yourself a bit of a road trip.

Your neighbor, Joyce, was more than happy to feed and check on Buster and Barry every couple of days. You trusted Joyce. She had you check on Eunice, her cat, when she was in the hospital for a week after getting pneumonia. You didn’t know Joyce all that well but she was always friendly and helpful.

You packed only one suitcase and started on your journey North before the sun was up. The city wasn’t busy but it wasn’t dead either. LA is a busy city and lots of commuters start before the sun comes up because once the sun is high in the sky, traffic comes to a halt. But you checked your surroundings, not really knowing what to look for, other than a tall, handsome, and familiar man. But he could easily disguise himself with a cap or hide in a car somewhere. You would never know if you were being followed. You felt paranoid. Once you got onto Highway 5 the road was clear, well, compared to inner LA traffic, and time flew by.

The radio kept you somewhat occupied but you were feeling the lack of sleep behind your eyes and in your sinuses. After driving for three hours you stopped at a gas station to get gas and buy some coffee and snacks. You kept an eye on the road as vehicles passed while you were leaning against your car pumping your gas. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. A couple of cars pulled in while you were getting gas but you couldn’t see that anything was unusual. No sign of Harry as far as you could tell. But you wouldn’t let your guard down.

When you got back on Highway 5 you continued checking your rearview mirror. The radio played mostly talk and some classic rock. Your mind zoned out as you sipped your gross gas station coffee and stuffed your face with packaged cinnamon buns, which turned out to have tiny little nuts in them that you hadn’t expected but found as a nice surprise.

Highway 5 was as boring and long as any other highway you’d ever been on, but the difference was your journey was 90% on the boring road. You started talking to yourself for a bit of entertainment. You imagined the scenario of confronting Harry about what you thought and how he might act.

“How is it that you spotted me twice in one day? You’re not a very good spy.”

He’d say back, “A spy? What? I just saw a beautiful woman in a park and was genuinely lost. And I couldn’t believe it when I saw you again at the club that very night. Feels more like fate to me than anything.”

You scoffed, “Unlikely in LA big guy.”

Harry would act serious and somewhat offended, and say with a frown, “No. I mean it. Why would a spy give himself away to you? Twice in one day no less? That would be a pretty bad spy. I’m just a man who saw a beautiful woman and wanted to get to know you better.”

“Then tell me what it is you do for a living, Harry.”

Harry would say he was an executive or something like that. For a production firm out of London and he was on a trip to LA. You couldn’t imagine a man like him would be an executive or CEO. He didn’t have the usual characteristics of someone who was a big shot. Harry was a bit more salt of the earth. Which you honestly liked more than the CEO types.

“And why did you have condoms in your side table? Were you expecting to have me in your room?”

Harry would laugh, “No. Was hoping to get lucky that night is all. Had no idea it would be you I’d bring back to my room.”

And then you’d jump on him and demand he put a condom on so you could finally fuck him once and for all.

You rolled your eyes and laughed.That was such an unlikely scenario but still…

The moment you passed into Cottonwood nostalgia hit you. You could almost smell your old high school and its hallways. This was the small town you grew up in. This was where you met all your friends, went to high school football games, worked at Roger’s Frosty until you attempted to go to college (that didn’t work out), lost your virginity to Alan, and got drunk behind the cemetery with your best friend Raechel. You couldn’t wait to see Raechel either. Your mom and Raechel were your two favorite people in the world and they were both in Cottonwood.

You pulled up to the two-bedroom house on Rhonda Road and parked behind your mom’s car in the driveway and took a deep breath. You were home.

◈ ◈ ◈

Harry set up surveillance outside of your apartment to track you. He had a feeling you’d be heading North to see your mom. Yes, he knew quite a lot about you. He knew where you grew up, knew your mom’s address, what high school you went to, the names of your friends, the kind of car you had…

He was parked not far from your car. He wore a black wool cap on his head to attempt a disguise and had the seat back as he kept watch. At one point he did doze off for a bit but woke when a car honked at a person standing in the middle of the street. LA is full of the strangest people.

He sort of thought that maybe you wouldn’t leave after all. Maybe he’d misjudged you. It had been hours and you still hadn’t left. Unless you’d taken a bus.

He stretched his arms overhead and yawned. He’d need to get some coffee soon. He had barely slept. He’d been in his car for hours waiting for you but at nearly 5 am when you still hadn’t emerged, he wondered if you were going to at all.

Harry looked at his phone and scrolled through Facebook when he saw he had a notification. His sister had posted a picture with the kids and her husband. He smiled to himself. He missed Gemma. He missed his mom. He missed his two nieces, whom he barely knew because he wasn’t around much.

Harry looked up at the moment you were pulling into the street and driving away. He dropped his phone and started his car to follow you. This was it. You were heading North, he knew it.

He kept his distance from you, sure to never tip you off. He didn’t want you to know you were being followed because he figured you’d be paranoid or watching out.

When you stopped off at the gas station, he kept driving, heading to the next one 18 miles up to fill his own tank. It was a risk to lose sight of you, but he knew where you were headed. He could pretty much guarantee that he’d see you driving past the gas station soon enough. And he was right. Once his tank was full and he’d gotten coffee and snacks for the road he saw your car pass and he pulled out and continued trailing you right into Cottonwood to your mother’s home.

He booked a room at the Travelers Motel, which is the only motel in all of Cottonwood. It was certainly not the Ritz but Harry didn’t care much about the room he slept in. He was only concerned about you and where you were going and what you were going to do next. He’d become a bit obsessed with you like any good detective would working their case. It had nothing to do with how beautiful and interesting you were. No, Harry was a total professional. Except for how he’d almost blown his cover when brought you back to his room and then proceeded to chow down on you until you came on his face and his hand. So, a professional minus that one tiny oversight.

Over the past year, he’d been tracking you and your work. It began as just another investigation once there were a handful of men who’d reported being drugged and then robbed by a woman of the same description. At first, it just looked like a prostitute robbing drunk men. Not much to do about that really. All the men claimed it wasn’t a prostitute situation. That no sex had been involved. But that was nothing new for cops to hear. No one ever wanted to admit they’d been with a prostitute. So it was never taken very seriously.

But when a very wealthy film producer went to the police with information about you, that’s when it got real. He had a photo of you from his security camera footage, though it was quite blurry and hard to make out your features. You’d taken nearly a half million dollars in watches and jewelry from him after drugging him.

He claimed he woke up the following day (he’d been out for almost 18 hours from what he could recall) in a daze with all his watches gone. The footage from the security cameras backed up his statement about being robbed. And there it was, a blurred video of someone who looked a lot like you, stealing from the man who’d just been drugged.

One of the reasons why it suddenly became something to look into was because the film producer was adamant and he even went so far as to get bloodwork done and showed the toxicology report to the police. It was one thing to steal from someone who passed out after drinking too much alcohol of their own volition, but it was quite another when someone passed out from being given a high dose of drugs (which could potentially be fatal in the right person) against their will and then robbed.

Now, this was something to look into. Harry was the one who took the case. It didn’t need to be anything elaborate. And while it was important to investigate, no one had died yet and so it wasn’t a top priority. Harry would do his research and follow you until he had enough evidence to put you away. But there was no immediate rush. So he was still working on other cases when he first began looking into the crimes you’d been accused of committing.

Then, six months ago, a relatively famous actor reported a crime that looked a lot like your M.O.

He’d been at the Warwick and according to his statement, you approached him, he took you back to his place, and then that’s really all he remembers. He woke up the following afternoon and he’d been robbed.

It was difficult to keep putting your case on the back burner when you were drugging and robbing high-profile men. The public would soon begin hearing about this and they would be looking to the police to do something. So, the case was escalated. Harry would be in LA following your every move. It took some time to get all the pieces sorted before he could really begin putting all of his efforts into the case, but he was ready. The Ritz was chosen because it’s a nice hotel and Harry’s last-ditch effort scenario was to bring you back to his room (if everything else failed first) and then you’d think he was wealthy and hopefully get caught in the act of trying to drug him or rob him. That, and the hotel gave a big discount for the stay because the B-list actor you’d drugged and robbed made a call.

Harry sat on the bed and realized the mattress was going to be an issue. For the last five nights, he’d been sleeping on soft clouds. This was… a box spring in comparison. Firm and hard under his bottom.

“What the fuck?” Harry turned and put his palms over the mattress and stood up. He pressed down at the center and it was hard as a board. He groaned. The floor would be more comfortable than this. He’d probably wind up just sleeping in his car.

Later that night Harry followed you to Cody’s OK Corral. A bar. It was one of those places that all the locals went to. Cheesy on the outside, reminiscent of some western saloon theme and the inside was the 90s with wood paneling, posters taped to the walls, a pool table that took up far too much space given how small the interior was, a small stage in the corner but no live band in sight, dollar bills taped and stuck to the ceiling all over, sticky floors, the stale scent of spilled beer and some sort of disinfectant, and it was packed.

He kept his cap on his head and wore something that he hoped wouldn’t give him away, but he needed to get his eyes on you so he could keep his distance and you wouldn’t spot him.

It wasn’t long before he saw you. So fucking cute with jeans and a white t-shirt tucked in. You never even needed a drop of makeup but he couldn’t get over how pretty you were. You were with your friend Raechel and seated at the bar with a beer. He hadn’t ever known you to drink alcohol so this was a little bit odd.

Harry kept getting bumped into as some of the people were dancing and having a good time. His position was awkward but he needed to stay where he was so he could watch you without being noticed.

When a man in a flannel shirt came up behind you and Raechel, Harry noticed that he was giving you special attention. Harry didn’t like the looks of this guy. How he was leaning in too close to you. The way he kept trying to pull your attention away from Raechel. But Harry did notice how you were barely giving the flannel-shirt guy the time of day. This made Harry smile. Not that he was jealous or anything. Of course, he wasn’t.

Harry had been lucky that he wasn’t seen by you. Eventually, though, it almost didn’t matter. You had gotten drunk. Another odd thing Harry couldn’t understand. He hadn’t seen you drink more than two beers but he also knew you weren’t a drinker in general. Maybe you were just a lightweight?

Raechel and the guy were dancing while you were swaying and had your eyes closed, holding on to the man’s bicep. Raechel was wasted too, but Harry had seen her guzzle a few long island iced teas so it was no wonder. He was concerned about you, though. Two beers shouldn’t have you in such a state. He couldn’t figure out why you were so drunk.

But then when the guy called an Uber and helped Raechel get in, leaving you and the guy by yourselves is when Harry realized what might have happened. You’d been drugged. Karma was funny this way, you’d literally been given a dose of your own medicine. Except that flannel-shirt guy had different intentions with you than you had with the men you’d drugged.

The man walked you to what Harry imagined was his pickup truck. But this wasn’t going to fly. Not on Harry’s watch. He wasn’t going to just stand by and let some loser put you into his pickup truck so he could do god-knows-what to you.

“Hey!” Harry began to walk toward the man before he’d been successful in getting you into his truck.

The man turned to look at Harry with the smallest bit of surprise on his face before he stood upright and faced Harry, “What?”

“That’s my friend,” Harry said as he gestured toward you, “Where are you taking her?” Harry didn’t know how he was going to play this but he only knew he couldn’t allow you to be harmed by this stranger.

You were leaning against his truck, but still standing upright mostly. When you spotted Harry you laughed and pointed, “Harry?! Oh my god!” Except your words came out in a strange, watery, slur.

“She wants to go home with me. Sorry, you lost your chance, dude,” the man walked a few steps toward Harry and tried to act intimidating.

The thing was that Harry was rarely intimidated by anyone. Harry was a cop and he was trained. He took his work seriously and he knew he’d have no problem slamming this asshole to the ground and walking away unscathed if necessary.

“She’s not going with you, mate. Come on, Y/n… let’s go hon,” Harry moved his eyes toward your pretty face and stepped around flannel-shirt guy and toward you when the dumbass put his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry turned and wrapped his hand around the loser’s wrist and bent it back. The man immediately let go of Harry’s shoulder and winced in pain, “Fuck!”

“Do not touch me. And you’re getting off easy right now motherfucker. I know you drugged her because I watched her only drink two beers. I’m going to call the cops if you don’t back off.”

Harry released flannel-shirt guy’s wrist and the man immediately put his hands up in surrender and backed away.

Harry put his arm behind you and held you up as he walked you to his car. It was a bit of a struggle. You were heavier than you looked and your limbs weren’t moving properly. When he’d secured you in your seat he got into the driver’s side and sighed. He put his head back into the headrest and closed his eyes. He didn’t know what he was doing. He shouldn’t have shown himself. He should have just called the cops and had them check on you. But he didn’t want that man touching you for even a second longer.

“Harry?” Your voice was slurred and weak. Your eyes were red and you were sweating the slightest bit.

Harry took in your appearance. You had definitely been drugged, but you were somewhat aware. Which was good. But it was bad because it also meant you might remember him after the drugs wore off.

“Let’s get you to a bed to sleep. I bet you’re pretty tired right now,” Harry said as he moved his hand to your face and pressed his thumb over your cheekbone. He didn’t know why he reached out to touch you but you immediately grabbed his hand and closed your eyes, holding his palm to your face.

Harry considered dropping you off at your mom’s. Bringing you to the front porch and ringing the doorbell for your mom to find you. But when he drove past the house, he saw all the lights off. What if your mom didn’t answer the door? He didn’t want to be seen by your mom. That would be difficult to explain.

But he certainly couldn’t bring you back to his motel room because what would you do once you woke up and saw him? His cover would surely be blown then. If it wasn’t already. But it was probably too late.

He’d broken protocol by showing his face and not calling the cops on flannel-shirt guy. He was in too deep. The whole reason you were here was probably that you were on to him already. You knew something otherwise you would have never fled LA.

He parked in the lot at the Travelers Motel and exhaled heavily. You appeared to be asleep. What could he do?

His priority at that moment was to protect you. Even if it meant you finding out everything. He wasn’t going to risk having you hurt or dead because he didn’t want you to see him following you. He had no choice but to bring you into his motel room and lay you on the hard bed and let you sleep off the drugs.

◈ ◈ ◈

You woke up with a stiff neck and achy back. Your head was pounding. It felt like you had an intense hangover. You fluttered your eyes open and noticed you were in some kind of rundown motel room. The window to your left had curtains drawn but you could see the edges of the window and it appeared to be dark out still. There was a TV on in the room somewhere because you could see the flickering of the light and hear the low volume of voices coming from it. The bed was hard as a board. You groaned when you tried to push yourself up but realized your wrists were cuffed together.

“What?” Your voice came out groggy and cracked.

You tried to turn your head to see the other side of the room but a pillow was in your way and you didn’t quite have the energy to sit up just yet.

Harry heard your groan and he sat up to check on you. It had only been four hours since you’d been sleeping. It was now close to five in the morning. He saw your foot move and he knew you were awake. He still hadn’t quite decided what he was going to do. But he was confident that he was doing the best thing to keep you safe.

He sat still and waited to see if you were really awake. Harry was on the floor with a blanket and a pillow. He didn’t want to have you waking up with him in the bed with you because you’d probably freak out and jump to conclusions.

“Uh… Harry?” Your still groggy voice spoke the words and Harry closed his eyes. You remembered.

Harry stood up and looked down at you. He looked like he’d been sleeping. You were a touch confused but you do remember seeing him last night. He was the last thing you did remember in fact.

“Hey… How do you feel?” Harry asked as he sat at the edge of the bed.

You didn’t know how you felt. Your head hurt but now you had a bigger problem on your hands. You needed to know what Harry was doing. Was your gig up? Was he a cop who’d caught up with you? Or worse?

“I have a headache,” was all you could manage to say. Harry got up and left the room but came back quickly and placed a warm towel on your head and then unlocked the cuffs, removing them from your wrists. He moved your hand upward to hold the rag in place, “Keep this here,” he spoke softly as he helped you sit upright and stuffed a pillow behind your back. He had a bottle of water and a white pill. You looked at his hand and then back to him, “What’s that?”

Harry smiled, “Just aspirin for your head.”

With your free hand, you took the pill and inspected it. You weren’t sure of Harry.

“Who are you?” You said as you closed your hand around the supposed aspirin.

This is the part Harry wasn’t sure about. He was about to lose all he’d worked for because of his need to keep you safe. To protect you.

“My name really is Harry. I’m not here to hurt you. I promise.”

You swallowed with your dry throat and cringed at the feeling, “Are you a cop?”

Harry breathed out a laugh and ran his fingers through his hair and tilted his head as he looked at you, “Are you a criminal?”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, “Did you drug me?”

Harry shook his head, “No. Some guy at the bar did. I watched you drink two beers and you got wasted. Your friend left in an Uber to go to her home and the guy tried to put you into his truck but I intervened before he could take you anywhere.”

“Raechel… is she okay?” Your eyes widened, remembering little bits and pieces.

“She’s at home. She’s okay. That guy was only interested in you, Y/n.”

You nodded and popped the aspirin in your mouth and Harry handed you the bottle of water. Which you drank down entirely, gasping as you wiped your lips.

“For some reason, I feel like his name was… Oregano or something stupid,” you laugh and shake your head.

“Oregano?” Harry raised his brows.

“Yeah, he told me his name but... He bought me another beer, which I didn’t really want. I hate drinking. I don’t like how it makes me feel. But I did start to notice how woozy I felt. And he didn’t drug Raechel?”

Harry shook his head, “I’m not sure. But Raechel drank quite a lot more than you and she was sent home in an Uber. My priority was to make sure you were okay. You were far more inebriated than Raechel.”

You kept your eyes on Harry’s, “So… are you a cop? Or are you following me and trying to kidnap me or something? Just tell me what’s going on.”

Harry looked down at his lap and breathed out a heavy sigh, “I fucked up. Was not mean to approach you or have you see me. You’re here, this whole mess, it’s all my fault.”

You were confused. That didn’t answer your question, “Okay. So are you going to tell me what’s going on or…?”

Harry met your eyes and he looked conflicted. You watched his throat jump as he swallowed and then he closed his eyes and tilted his head down, “Fuck.”

He got up from the bed and walked around the small room, “Yeah. I’m a cop. Detective. I’ve been tracking you for a while. But I fucked up. Now my cover is blown and I’ve got nothing substantial.”

Your head was still pounding but now you were feeling clearer. You knew something was up with him when you left him hanging in his hotel room.

“I knew it. That’s why I ran out. I just suddenly had a feeling that you weren’t just some man in town on business.”

Harry chuckled and sat back down on the bed with a thud, “What happened with that? What made you feel like that?” Harry was genuinely curious about what you’d realized. He figured he knew what it was but he wanted to hear your version of it.

“Well, for starters, you had condoms in your side table. Right next to your bed. Not exactly typical for a guy to do. Men don’t usually plan ahead like that when they’re staying in a hotel room. Then, it was the fact that I’d seen you, a total stranger, twice in one day. Couldn’t be a coincidence, especially because I’m… well, as you said... and so I tend to be wary of coincidences like that. Though it did take me a little longer to realize than normal.”

“So you admit it? You’re a criminal?” Harry sat up straight. Maybe this would be it. Maybe you would give a confession and that would be that. But of course, you weren’t quite ready to confess everything.

You sat back into your spot and frowned and instead of answering his question, you asked him one in return, “You blew your cover and all your hard work just to make sure I was okay?”

Harry looked at your face and his own expression softened as he nodded, “Yeah. I didn’t want anyone hurting you. Even if you’ve done some bad things, you didn’t deserve whatever that was. Who knows what he was going to do? I couldn’t just sit back and watch that happen for the sake of a case.”

You swallowed and smiled at the handsome detective, “Well, thank you, Harry. I appreciate what you did. You saved me.”

You knew he was going to try and get you to talk. But you weren’t ready to go to prison. You knew that’s where you’d go too. For a long time. So you chose to keep mum about everything.

“Hungry?” Harry smiled and then looked out the window. It was still dark out, but he was starving. He needed something to eat and he knew that just up the street was a 24-hour diner with one of those big American-style breakfast plates that came with eggs, sausage or bacon (sometimes and bacon), potatoes of some kind, toast, and pancakes of course.

“Not, really…” you said. This had you slightly confused. You thought for sure he was going to start asking you some tough questions and corner you and force a confession from you. But he wanted to know if you were hungry? Was he trying to butter you up (no pun intended)?

“Well, I’m really hungry and I can’t leave you here by yourself so you’ll come with me. And you should probably eat anyway since you were most likely drugged,” Harry stood up and slid his wallet into his back pocket and paused his motion when he turned to look at you, removing his wallet from his back pocket with a grin, “Should probably put this in a better spot since I’ve got a thief on my hands,” he laughed.

Now you were truly dumbfounded. Did he find this funny? What was going on?

Harry noticed the way you were looking at him, confusion all over your face, “What? I’m hungry and you should eat. Don’t worry. I’m not gonna have you cuffed or anything, but I’m not afraid to use them if needed,” he raised his brows at you, kind of like how your mother used to when she’d threaten to ground you if she thought you were going to do something bad.

“I’m just… confused. You’re a cop. You followed me, and now we’re gonna go get breakfast as if nothing is going on?” You stayed in your spot on the bed and leaned against the pillow. You didn’t know if you should trust him. He did save you from Oregano, though.

“Well, yeah. You’re in my custody but I think we should eat before we get down to it. Come on. Get up,” Harry leaned toward you and put his hand out.

You were in some strange alter reality and you felt like you’d lost your mind when you reached out to grab his hand and he pulled you off the shit mattress, “God. What kind of bed is that? I think whoever installed it thought it was a mattress, but that’s got to be a box spring, don’t you think? That’s awful.”

Harry laughed and slid on his jacket. You watched him tuck his wallet into the inside pocket of said jacket as you put your shoes on.

Harry squinted at you and paused, “You just can’t help yourself, can you? This wallet is off-limits to you. Don’t you dare try and snatch it,” Harry scoffed.

You scoffed right back at him as you stood, “Yeah right. You’re a cop Harry, not exactly the type that I…” you stopped yourself. You had to be careful. Perhaps this was Harry’s schtick. Get you feeling comfortable and start to like him even, and then he’d catch you in accidental confession.

“Not the type you… steal from? Right. Because cops don’t make shit compared to the types you case. You’re into the high earners,” Harry grasped your hand into his and walked you toward the door before turning back to you as he gestured toward where his hand surrounded yours, “Just to keep you from running off.”

At the only 24-hour diner in Cottonwood, Harry made you sit next to him in the booth. By the window of course. You felt like a kid a little bit.

Harry spread his legs and put his elbows onto the tabletop and leaned over to look at the menu. Typical man taking up way more space than necessary.

You weren’t feeling up to eating. Your stomach was queasy and you felt a bit dizzy still. Not even coffee sounded good.

When the waitress came to take your order you spoke, “Just a water for me.”

Harry turned to look at you with an unreadable expression and then turned back to the waitress, “I’ll have a coffee, and two orange juices. And…” he looked back down at the menu, placing his finger over the dish he wanted, “the Big Bear Platter, and a side of pancakes as well.”

He smiled at the nice lady and grabbed your menu along with his to hand them to her.

“Jesus Christ. That’s a lot of food, Harry,” you groaned.

Harry relaxed and sat back, crossing his arms over his chest, but of course leaving his legs spread wide, “M’hungry. I told you. Got you an orange juice. You need sugar most likely.”

You hated orange juice. You didn’t know why and you were probably the only person on earth that hated it, but you just did. Really you had a distaste for anything orange flavored, including actual oranges.

“I won’t drink it,” you spoke as you looked out the window and crossed your arms over your chest.

Harry tsk’d at you and then you felt him lean over you. His face was next to yours, “You’ll drink it,” he spoke quietly before sitting back again.

You huffed and rolled your eyes. Yeah, you were being made to feel like a child and you didn’t like it one bit.

“So what’s the plan after this, Harry? What are we doing?” You kept your head turned toward the window.

“Well, it’ll probably be good to stop at your mom’s, let her know you’re all right and then from there we’ll head back to LA. I might need to sleep a bit first, though, now that I think of it. Got zero sleep last night. You could use the rest as well.”

“So… my car will just stay here?” You turned to look at him now. Was he really keeping you in his custody? Could he do that? He probably could.

Harry smiled and the waitress dropped off Harry’s coffee and two liter-sized cups of orange juice.

He slid one of the cups toward you and then set his eyes on you before answering, “You’ll have to leave it with your mom, yes.”

You sighed and shook your head in annoyance, “Then what?”

Harry raised his brows and shrugged, “Mmmm… don’t want to reveal all my secrets to you just yet.”

“Am I under arrest?” You were worried about what would happen in LA. Why was he being so vague? Did he not have a plan?

Harry just grinned at you and he had that look on his face that people get when they know something you don’t know. Which is infuriating because what did he really know? Was he bluffing?

You grunted and sat back, looking straight ahead, away from his excruciatingly handsome face. Why was he so goddamn fine? That wasn’t fair.

When the multiple plates of food were placed on the table you looked over the sea of cholesterol and grease and sugar and it made your stomach turn. You swallowed when your mouth began to water, and it wasn’t watering in the good kind of way either. You were going to throw up.

“Harry…” you put your hand on the table and felt yourself start to sweat, “I’m gonna throw up. Move!”

Harry slid out of the booth seat and you scrambled out as quickly as possible, running to the bathroom and making it to a stall just in time to violently empty the contents of your stomach.

You took a minute to sit back on your shins and breathe before flushing the toilet and then you felt Harry’s hand reaching to clutch your underarm to help you stand. You hadn’t expected him to be there.

You looked up at him as he steadied you and he turned on the sink and wet a paper towel for you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking the paper towel from him and dabbing your mouth and your chin.

“You’re coming down off the drugs. He probably gave you Rohypnol or something similar. Benzos. That’s what you use, isn’t it? Some kind of benzo?”

You turned on the faucet and cupped your hands under the water and rinsed your mouth. You were not going to answer his question so he could get you to talk.

Harry just chuckled and leaned his hip on the sink as he watched you, “This is typical. Throwing up. You knew that, though, right? I’m sure all your victims have dealt with the same.”

You turned off the faucet and leaned into the mirror to look at yourself. A mess. You side-eyed Harry and then shook your head, “I’m not saying anything, Harry. I know you’re trying to trick me into confessing but it’s not gonna work.”

After Harry ate the nastiest breakfast known to man (well, on any other day it wasn’t nasty, but on a day when you were coming down from being drugged, it was vomit-inducing) he forced you to drink five sips of juice.

“Ah, ah, ah…” he cooed at you and pushed the cup back toward you, “two more sips. Come on, Y/n. It cannot be that bad. It’s just orange juice.”

You gagged and took your two last sips and then stared him down with the meanest look you could muster, “I. Hate. Orange juice. It’s disgusting. And now I hate you for forcing me to drink it.”

Harry laughed and pulled you out of the booth with him, walking you to his car, “You won’t hate me when you start feeling better thanks to the sugar.”

The sun was just beginning to peak from the horizon when Harry began to drive back toward the motel. It was still early.

“We’ll get some sleep back at the motel for a few hours and then we’ll stop at your mom's, drop your car there, and then head back to LA. That’s our plan,” Harry spoke confidently.

“What am I supposed to tell my mom? She’s going to wonder who you are and why I’m leaving her my car. Can’t I just follow you? I’m not going anywhere. You know where I live, you know everything. It’s not like I can get away from you.”

Harry shook his head as he kept his eyes on the road, “Not an option. As much as I want to believe you wouldn’t try and escape, I just don’t think I can trust you right now. It’s not worth it,” he turned onto the last street to head toward the motel, “And you can just tell your mom that you’ll be back to get the car next week or something. Tell her I’m your friend, whatever you want. Doesn’t matter.”

You did not want to do this. You did not want Harry taking you to jail. You did not want to lie to your mom. You did not want to leave your car behind.

“Whatever I want? So, I could just tell her you’re a cop who’s taking me back to LA to go to prison then?” You kept your eyes on Harry’s face.

Harry breathed out a laugh, “No. Don’t do that. Just tell her I’m your friend from LA and you’re going back with me and you’ll be back next week to get your car.”

“So you want me to lie to my mom.”

Harry stayed quiet as he pulled into the lot and parked his car. You both stayed silent as you entered the shitty motel room. Harry locked the door and tossed the keys to the room on the dresser as he pointed at the bed, “You’ll get the bed. I’ll set an alarm for four hours from now. That should give me enough sleep to get us back to LA safely.”

“I’m not laying on that bed ever again, Harry. You get the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

Harry rolled his eyes and groaned, “Why are you so difficult? Just do what I say. I’m the one in charge here. Not you. You’ll be on the bed. That’s final.”

You groaned and tilted your head back to look up at the ceiling. But what could you do?

You reluctantly climbed onto the bed and laid your body flat. It did feel good to lie down. You were exhausted.

Suddenly Harry was hovering over you and your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up. He grabbed your right wrist and gently lifted it above your head and then you realized what was going on. He was cuffing your arm to the bed so you didn’t escape. And for some odd reason, you were disappointed by that because there was just the smallest moment where you thought he was making a move on you. But that wasn’t what was going on at all.

Harry looked down at you, “You thought I was trying to pick up where we left off the other night. Didn’t you?” His dumb smirk made you roll your eyes and you turned your head to look away and shut your eyes to ignore him.

But when it was quiet and you didn’t feel him move or get off the bed you opened your eyes again and slowly turned to look back at the man. He was still sitting by your side, looking down at you.

“What, Harry? What?” You were getting worked up. Harry was kind of pissing you off now.

Harry just sat quietly with that knowing look on his fucking face as he moved his gaze over yours before pushing himself up to get off the bed.

It turns out that another side effect of coming off benzos is nightmares or vivid dreams. You woke up in a panic, breathing hard and shaking from whatever it was that you’d dreamt of. Harry was quick to your side, brushing your hair back, “You okay?”

You took a deep breath and felt comforted at the sight of him, “Just a bad dream.” You were still breathing heavily, though, and Harry frowned at the state you were in. He looked at your cuffed wrist and back to you, “Does your wrist hurt?”

You nodded, “A little. It’s numb, along with my arm so I can’t feel much at the moment.”

Harry was up and off the bed and back with the key, undoing the lock in a matter of seconds. He rubbed your wrist and squeezed up your arm slowly, “This will help get some blood flow back. We’ll cuff your other arm to give this one a break.”

You pinched your brows together, “Please, don’t, Harry. I promise I’m not gonna run off,” you looked at him in pleading.

Harry sighed and shook his head, “I’m not risking you running off.”

You pushed at him and sat up, “What the fuck are you so worried about? If this was really something where I’m going to prison, why haven’t you called anyone? You still need my confession, don’t you? I bet you’re not even supposed to have me in custody like this right now.”

Harry didn’t say anything as he listened to you speak and he stayed silent after you were done. You both sat and stared at one another. A standoff of sorts. Who would break first? Would he admit he was bluffing? Would you confess your crime?

“You’re in big trouble. You’ve done some very bad things. It’s necessary to keep you in my custody,” Harry finally spoke.

“Okay, and like I said, I’m not running off so don’t fucking cuff me because that hurts,” you yanked your arm away from where he was squeezing your forearm to bring blood flow back to your limb.

Harry grasped at your wrist and pulled you back toward him, “Don’t fucking yank your arm away. I’m trying to help!"

You rolled your eyes and pulled at your arm again, but Harry’s grip on you was solid. He pulled back and you let out a groan of frustration, “You’re bluffing. I know it,” you looked at him directly in his eyes when you said it.

Harry’s brows were knitted together when you brought your free hand up to put over his hand to try and loosen his grip, slipping your fingers underneath to wedge his hand off your arm.

Harry removed one of his hands from you and then grabbed both of your wrists and pinned you down to the bed, “I’m being nice! Stop resisting me!” His voice was just a notch softer than a shout but it was still intimidating. His deep voice was menacing.

“It’s not nice to cuff me to a bed you asshole,” you snarled back at him with your most serious voice. But once you’d said it, in the back of your mind, the pervert in you couldn’t help but sort of enjoy the contact and close proximity with the detective. And your words – not nice to cuff me to a bed – well, now, that was debatable depending on the circumstances.

And you saw the way Harry paused when you said it too. The way his throat bobbed when he swallowed, how his breathing deepened as he looked down at you under him. It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room. A sudden epiphany had dawned on you both at that moment, that you were both enjoying this.

Your own chest began to rise and fall the longer he stared down at you. You couldn’t help yourself when you said in your snarkiest tone, “You like that, though. Don’t you?”

Harry huffed out a laugh of disbelief, “Fuck you.”

But suddenly when he pressed his mouth over yours, your brain melted and nothing else mattered. It was just you and Harry. It didn’t matter that he was a cop and you were a criminal. This was sexual frustration and attraction and odd circumstances all accumulated.

Harry let go of your wrists and his hands traveled down your sides and you slid your hands into his hair, feeling his curls between your fingers and his lips smothering yours.

The kiss was wet and hot. It had your tummy churning and electricity running through your spinal cord.

Harry moved his mouth back from yours but bumped his nose into yours as he spoke, “Fuck. We shouldn’t do this.”

But when he softly brushed his mouth over yours again his words were brushed aside and forgotten when you moaned into his mouth and his thumb snuck under your shirt in search of something more.

Part 3*

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thatdeaniegirlsworld · 1 year

Text

The Con Artist | Part 1*

Summary: You're a wanted criminal and when Harry Styles, the detective on the case, finally catches up to you he finds it difficult to resist your charms.

A/n: This is detective!harry x crimina!reader / y/n | This will be a short series (3-7? parts). Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

6.7k words

Warning: Criminal activity detailed (drugging, stealing, conning), smut (oral sex)

◈ ◈ ◈

The first time you remember stealing anything was when you were about three years old. From what you recall, you were with your mother at a dollar store of some sort. On the bottom shelf in one of the aisles was a pretty mirrored compact. It snapped close with a satisfying click and opened up easily for your three-year-old hands and so you put it into your mother’s purse as she was bringing you out of the store.

Being three years old, though, you forgot all about the mirrored compact when she surprised you with a toy she bought for you. The next day she came across the stolen item and somehow, she knew you’d done it. Because maybe there had been some sort of pattern. You just can’t remember stealing before that day.

But then you started stealing clothes from the mall when you were older. Lip balm (you became fond of the Chanel lip balm in Light but frequently settled for a Lancôme or Clinique as they were usually easier to snatch up), candles (the expensive ones to make it worth your while), pens, and lighters. You stole anything small enough to be taken without anyone noticing.

The only time you ever got caught was when your mom found the mirrored case in her purse when you were three. Even now, 23 years later. Here you are, stealing for a living. The man lying on the bed you are standing next to is knocked out cold. You may or may not have slipped him a little something to send him off to sleepy time before he could take his pants off, but that was the game. He wanted something and so did you.

Yours was a simple grift. Straight men are easy. All you have to do is hang out in really nice clubs and bars near the nice neighborhoods. Dress a certain way. Talk a certain way. Compliment the man. Compliment him some more. Laugh at his attempt at flirting and play dumb. Definitely laugh at his jokes. Act dumb. Sit alone. Bat your lashes. That kind of bullshit.

The man would need to be rich, or if not rich, showy and cocky (because how fucking annoying is a showy cocky asshole with nothing to actually show for it?). You typically looked for a nice watch (Rolex is easy to spot, but the really expensive watches are Audemars Piguet and Patek Philippe). He’d need to be a little drunk. Or even desperate is fine. Sometimes drunk isn’t necessary. You just need to get him to take you to his home. Never to yours. Married men would suggest a hotel. And that could work too, under the right circumstances. And married men were special because they’d never report you.

Then, once you’re in his house you suggest a nightcap, a drink for your nerves you say (a lie because you don’t drink alcohol) and insist on making them yourself. Drop in enough crushed benzos and voila. The man thinks he’s about to get laid but he falls asleep fast and you steal his cash and his jewelry. And sometimes a few other things you can take with you on your way out the door.

Tonight’s meal is a married man but his wife is out of town. The “house” is in Hope Ranch but it’s more like a mansion. It’s massive and the guy is loaded. That’s all you care about.

You served him a gin and tonic with a lime wedge and 10 mg of crushed-up benzos. You poured yourself a tonic and chucked a lime in for good measure, so it looked like you were drinking too.

He brought you to his room after drinking his glass of nighty-night juice and you could tell it was taking effect. He fell asleep almost too quickly. But who were you to complain? His wallet was lying on the coffee table and his Rolex was an easy snag. You were out the door in less than an hour. He only had about $50 cash in his wallet but the Rolex would be worth around nine thousand dollars for you. You loved the dumbasses with the expensive watches the most. Rolexes are a dime a dozen. They’re the easiest to come by and the easiest to get rid of.

By the time you get back to your little studio, it’s past 3 am. You don’t live in the best part of LA but it’s also not bad. Koreatown has its moments. The supposedly haunted Gaylord Apartments studio has been your home for the last two years. You truly could afford something nicer but it’s hard to imagine paying more than you already do for rent. It’s a waste of money really. You’re living fine and saving your cash. You don’t want to be a thief all your life. Just for long enough to save up so you can go anywhere you want, buy a house for cash, and live out your days as an old maid who never found love. Because love seems like a pipe dream at this point.

Men suck. But then again, you’re not really much of a catch yourself. So ending up alone is probably your true calling. You’ll buy a bunch of books, get a few cats, maybe grow a garden and wear robes all day long. Drink cold juice and watch murder mysteries at night with your cats all curled up around you, and fall asleep on your couch because sleeping alone in your bed just sounds depressing. And maybe you’ll do some traveling. Who knows? You’ve amassed a decent amount of money. You’ve given yourself until 30 and then you’ll call it quits. Just a few more years.

At the Gaylord, you’re not allowed to have pets, but you can have fish. You crouch down to look into your aquarium and see that Buster and Barry are fine. They usually are. They’re pea puffers. Kind of cute really. But Buster killed his first mate, Brenda. When you introduced Barry, Buster left him alone. Buster and Barry don’t usually interact which is why they get along. You had no idea that puffers could tend to be aggressive but when Brenda was found belly up in the 10-gallon tank one Thursday evening after you’d secured a nice Saint Laurent coat and a Royal Oak Piguet, you were quite disappointed. You’d had such a good night too. The Royal Oak was worth close to $60 thousand. And the coat was just an extra on your way out the door. But poor Brenda. Dead in a day.

You turned off their fish tank light, “Goodnight boys.”

At night, when you were alone in your bed you’d think about the things you’d done. You never really found guilt anytime you thought back. You did feel like what you were doing was wrong, though. You knew that much, you just didn’t feel that bad about any of it, though. You’d made yourself a nice small fortune and you did it doing something you loved. Why did you love stealing from unsuspecting idiot men?

Who knows?

You had a mostly-typical upbringing. Your mom and dad split when you were five and you saw your dad every other weekend like most of your friends with their dads.

Your mom was a good mom. She took care of you. Loved you. Protected you. Encouraged you.

You didn’t have an unusual childhood. Others who had it far worse turned out normal. You had no excuse. No trauma to point at. No mental health problems ran in the family. No vendetta against men. Nothing to prove.

You just liked it. There was a thrill that came with it. And the better you got at it, the more fun it was. And you loathed the idea of working a regular job somewhere earning a living wage. A living wage. What a joke. You were earning like a CEO and not once did you ever have to put out for anyone you didn’t want to. Everything was on your terms.

You could sleep in as late as you wanted. Skip a day of work if you chose, never needing to call anyone to tell them you were taking a sick day. You could do two in one day if you were on a roll. Or you could abandon ship if the man you started chatting up turned out to be someone you could actually see yourself fucking. Because you did draw the line there.

If you started to become interested in the guy, or he was attractive enough, and he invited you back to his place you would have a choice to make. You could stay the course, drug him, and then steal his watch and his money or you could just have a fun night with an attractive man at his place. You wouldn’t steal from someone you’d slept with. You had some moral boundaries.

You were nice, though. You weren’t like a bitch to anyone. But I guess ask any of the men you’d stolen from and they’d have a different mind about that. You had a small handful of friends. You didn’t like letting people get too close, though. For good reason. Because when you got close it became harder to hide your dark secret. People always asked what you did for a living. What an intrusive question to ask anyone. You always made up some lie about working online and inputting data for a medical corporation. Something that pointed to you making just enough money that would explain your nice clothes and expensive purses, but also that would have you home during the day.

Your best friend, Raechel knows your secret. Probably your mom as well. Also, Josh who buys your stolen goods but that’s a different story. But that’s it. In the whole wide world, you have one person that you’ve told directly what you do (again, not counting Josh). Because you couldn’t hide it anymore. And Raechel is still around. She’s your best friend. Now your mom, well, you never told her but she knows. She’s not dumb.

Bright and early the next morning, if you can consider 11:30 am bright and early, you headed to your dealer slash fence man, Josh, after shooting him a message that you were on your way.

You had with you the white dial Rolex Daytona you took off of whatever his name was the night before. Now, this watch is worth about $20,000 but Josh would take a big cut of the profit because he was the one going and selling the stolen item, he needed to make money from the deal too. Plus whoever he sold it to wouldn’t pay him the full $20,000 either, because they also needed to make a profit.

You met him in your usual spot. He took a look at the jewelry and searched for the model reference number to make sure of its value. Then you left with $8,500 in cash and a quarter ounce of Girl Scout Cookies (that’s a nice strain of marijuana bud to clarify).

The bank wouldn’t take big ass deposits like that at a time or there’d be some kind of flag on your account and it would get reported to the IRS (protocol), so you generally would only deposit $3,000 at a time. Which also meant you had a large stash of cash in your apartment at all times. You tried to space out the deposits. Had multiple bank accounts at different banks, and went to different branches in different locations but cash was difficult to work with at times. It was the only part of the job you hated. Dealing with all that cash. Especially when you preferred to save most of it. You usually bought yourself nice things, but most of your money you didn’t touch. You were serious about your future plan of buying a house for cash and getting lots of cats.

Tonight you planned on going to the Warwick again. The last time you were there was six months ago. You’d gotten a big hit with a B-list celebrity and you didn’t want to show your face around there for a while just in case he found you there or anyone recognized you somehow. Six months seemed like a good amount of time to wait.

You stopped at your favorite café and picked up a latte and scone to go. Then you walked to Liberty Park to drink and eat your breakfast slash lunch in the sunshine.

You wondered who would be at the club tonight. The Warwick was usually crawling with celebrities (lots of money). You knew how to handle them all. It really didn’t take much though. Look cute, act dumb. Usually. There were a few times you’d encountered a celebrity or wealthy man who was looking for someone with substance, but that wasn’t what you were going for. You searched for the ones who wanted one fun night and nothing more.

You were sitting on the concrete ledge near the sculpture and sipping your hot latte when a shadow appeared blocking the sun from your body. You looked up to see a tall man looking down at you. Instantly you sat up straight. He was very attractive.

“Hi… I was hoping you could point me in the direction of The Ritz Carlton. I seem to be lost…” he looked at his cell phone and then held its screen to your face and you laughed, placing your latte down next to you.

You stood up and smiled and noticed he didn’t have a watch on his wrist (old habit), “You’re definitely lost. The nearest Ritz is gonna be like a 45-minute walk from here. It’s that way,” you pointed in the direction of the 110, though it couldn’t be seen from where you were.

“Fuck. Well, thank you, I guess. I’m new here and went for a walk and found myself enjoying the sun and now here I am. Lost puppy in a big city.”

The man had thick, dark hair, seafoam green eyes with a dark green limbal ring, richly pigmented lips, and a jawline that could cut rock. And he was British. Clearly from out of town.

You held out your hand and introduced yourself and he quickly wrapped his big paw around yours and you saw the tattoo on his wrist. His clothes didn’t indicate that he was well-off. But sometimes it was hard to tell. Some rich guys didn’t give a fuck. This one didn’t. If he was, in fact, wealthy.

“Harry. Nice to meet you. S’hard finding a friendly face in a new city. Do you live here?”

“I do. Not far from here. What are you in town for, Harry?” You asked, keeping eye contact. You didn’t know if you should size him up for a job or see if you could get him to take you back to his hotel for a fuck. This guy looked like he could fuck. Tall and broad, deep voice, and big hands. A dimpled smile.

“Ahh, just work. Plan to be here for about a month. Staying at The Ritz off Olympic while I’m in town,” he smirked at you and that was all you needed to hear to know he was interested. Yeah, you’d fuck him.

“Is that so? For a month huh? Here, let me give you my number, ya know, in case you need anyone to show you around. A friendly face like you said…” you gestured toward his phone so you could put your number in and he unlocked it and opened up his messages app.

You were bold. You had no problem picking up a guy to fuck. You just needed to be somewhat straightforward. Your jobs were different. Playing coy was the game when they wanted to feel like they were in charge. But when it came to actually fucking someone, you were in charge and you wanted them to know it.

“Seems quite forward to give your number to a complete stranger, Y/n,” he spoke your name, wrapping his lips around the vowels in the most sensual way. That mouth of his could do some damage. You swallowed.

You laughed and shrugged, “Not really. It’s just a number. Now, what you do with it is up to you. If you’re bold, you’ll use it.”

Harry grinned at you and the way you nearly let your knees buckle when you saw his dimples was not a normal reaction. But Harry was gorgeous. You'd let him fuck you if he was into it. Absolutely. This man could get it from the top to the bottom. He was well-muscled and sturdy under his clothes. Something told you he’d have a big dick too and you’d love to let him use it on you.

You shook yourself of your thoughts and Harry cleared his throat, “Well, thank you. I’ll certainly consider calling you,” he lifted his cell phone upward as he spoke.

You were a little disappointed by his remark. Consider calling you? What the fuck? Maybe he wasn’t straight. Would explain why you found him attractive. All the hot ones were some shade of gay. But he was flirting with you... Wasn’t he?

Harry waved as he walked off and you sat back down to finish your latte and dry scone.

◈ ◈ ◈

You got yourself dolled up and tried to erase the way you were feeling annoyed that Harry hadn’t messaged you or called you. You gave him your number. You were rarely rejected. Unless he was gay… You laughed at yourself as you sprayed your hair to hold the style and then looked at your phone again. It was 9 pm. The perfect time to show up at the Warwick. It was time to work.

You were let in with no problem, despite the long line to get in. No cover for you. You got yourself a soda water with lemon and sauntered around the perimeter. Lots of groups tonight. Some of the guys watched you walk by. But you were specific. Precise about the men you worked. The young ones in the groups were probably spending more than they could afford to be there. Not your type. You moved along the lower room until you spotted a group of men sitting together. Now, these guys were job material. Men with money.

You neared them slowly, sipping your soda water until one of them looked up and saw you. You smiled at him and kept walking until you found a place to sit where you could be in the sight line of the man with whom you smiled. He had his eyes on you alright.

You’d give it ten minutes before heading their way. Just to see if he’d come to you first. Just to see if he was into feeling like he had the upper hand. Sometimes older men preferred more traditional roles and liked to be the aggressor. Oh, little did they know…

You swung your left leg over your right one, letting your dress ride up your thigh so he could see what you were working with. You smiled at him again and then looked away, pretending to be caught in the act.

But then suddenly someone sat down next to you, catching you off guard. You jerked your neck toward the intruder (this was not uncommon), ready to tell him to buzz off when you were met with the warm smile of the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

Your look of disdain quickly turned to one of excitement and you couldn’t help the smile that crawled over your face at the sight of Harry. He was in a suit; his hair was styled just so with a thick curl falling over his forehead. He had rings on his fingers and he looked like he’d been drinking a little with dazed-out eyes on yours.

“Y/n. I didn’t expect to see you here,” his gaze dropped down to your dress and your thigh and then back up to your face.

You mimicked his display, dragging your eyes down his frame and back up to his handsome face, “It’s been a while since I’ve been out. Felt like a good night to have some fun.”

The man you’d scoped, was long forgotten as you and Harry began to chat. He was alone at Warwick. Like you. And he was hot. He was clearly a bit tipsy with the way he was so loose with touching your arm and your hand, the way he’d pause his eyes at your lips as you spoke.

The thing that really got you worked up was how he’d lean in to speak into your ear so you could hear him. It was necessary to do because the club was so loud, but you fucking loved having him so close you could smell him and feel his voice vibrating off your ear.

“You look amazing,” he said as he plucked at the hem of your short dress, his fingers brushing against the skin on your thigh as he did so. Probably on purpose. Definitely on purpose.

You decided he’d be worth the work raincheck. You’d let him fuck you. And it seemed like that’s just what he wanted when his eyes settled on yours and he looked like he wanted to devour you.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked. You were a-okay with abandoning ship for a hot night with Harry. Work could wait. This man before you, flirting with you and watching your lips as you spoke was ripe for the taking. You didn’t want to miss the chance to try him out in the sack.

Just like he said, the taxi stopped at The Ritz-Carlton on Olympic and he took you up to his room. In the taxi on the way to his hotel, he scooped his arm behind your back and pulled you into his side, brushed your hair from your neck, and put his mouth next to your ear, “You sure you want to do this?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Yeah, that happened. That never happens. Not to you. You were the one making men’s breath hitch. But Harry had some kind of natural charm about him that matched your own energy. A panty-dropper. But it helped that he was so goddamn fine with a deep British accent and dazzling eyes.

The room didn’t appear to have been slept in, but that’s probably due to the strict housekeeping staff taking care to clean up behind their guests.

You kicked your heels off near the door and Harry walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your front. He kissed your neck first. You were admittedly caught off guard by his energy. He was quite forward and confident.

You leaned your head to the side and smiled when you felt him in your back, poking you with what you knew was going to be a big cock. He was already very turned on.

You turned in his arms to face him and slid your hands up to his shoulders and kept your eyes on his, “I don’t usually do things like this…” you spoke innocently.

Harry tilted his head to the side and smirked. The look on his face said he didn’t believe you, “Me neither.” You certainly didn’t believe him.

You lifted yourself upward on your toes and pressed your mouth to his. You had had enough of the back and forth. It was time to get down to it. Harry’s cock was hard and your panties were wet. That’s all that was necessary at that moment. Talk could wait.

Harry gripped your waist and walked you backward to his bed with his mouth attached to yours. You let go of his shoulders and slid yourself back onto the bed as he crawled after you. You grabbed his collar and pulled him down to you, lips locking together in haste.

Putting your leg over his hip you bucked yourself upward to feel his hard-on under his pants and you moaned at the bulk of him.

“Get your pants off, Harry,” you cooed as you palmed over him. Harry sat back and removed his shirt and there was nothing in you that was disappointed by what you saw. More dark tattoos covering his chest and his arms. His body was masculine and sculpted exactly to your preference. Firm with smooth skin and a smattering of hair at his pecs and under his belly button.

You moved your arms behind your back and unzipped your dress and let it fall down your arms. You were wearing a special bra that was sticky on your breasts, which you’d forgotten about until that moment. It was difficult to remove in one quick go because the sticky inside was super sticky so it stayed put. You sat up and turned away from him as he began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants.

Pulling the bra away from your skin slowly you looked over your shoulder and Harry was looking at you with his brows scrunched in confusion. You laughed and when you’d removed the bra lifted it upward so he could see, “It’s a sticky bra and it’s awkward to take off. Didn’t want you to see it coming off. It’s less magical that way.”

Harry spit out a laugh as he visually inspected the bra and he nodded, “Okay. If you say so,” taking the bra from your hand and tossing it on the bed. Harry was only in black briefs when he put his hands up to cup your jaw and pulled you in for a kiss. He pushed you back into the bed with his lips smoothing against yours and he settled himself in between your legs. You were left in only your nude thong. Harry’s briefs-covered cock was pressed right over your pussy. He was thick. You knew he was something special down there. He rocked down over you and licked into your mouth. His solid arms kept his torso held up while his hips were pressed down over you.

You bent your right leg at the knee and spread a bit for him to access you better and he moaned.

“You’re getting me wet even through your underwear. Need something, Y/n?” His cocky smirk was warranted. You hated a cocky man but Harry had every reason to be. He was delectable.

“I need you, Harry. S’why I’m here right now,” you spoke in your sultriest voice and licked at the seam of his lips. Harry brought his mouth down slowly, his warm lips pecking and licking a cherished path down toward your breasts. He palmed and sucked at them. You arched your back and panted. He wasn’t going easy on your nipples as he pulled each into his mouth and swirled his tongue around your areola. His nips caused you to moan loudly into the room.

He moved his head further down and you knew what was coming. But in all honesty, you hadn’t shaved in a while. You were full-on bush down there. You didn’t expect to be getting laid tonight. You were on a job when you saw Harry at the club. You got all dolled up, shaved your legs, and did what needed to be done. But no more than what was necessary.

When he got to your hips you braced yourself for him to see your pussy in its natural state. He put his fingers into the band at your hips and looked up at you as he slid them down slowly. You craned your neck up to see what his expression was when he finally took you in.

He saw your bush. You saw him pause at your pussy but he continued dragging your panties downward. You held your breath when he put himself back between your legs and lowered his face to your inner thigh, planting a hot kiss very close to the curve of where your ass and your cunt met.

“Can I?” He looked up at you, his mouth parted in lust. You weren’t going to say no to head. If he wanted to get down there with your wild garden of desire and wrap his mouth around your clit you’d let him.

“Yes,” you smiled but felt yourself blush a little at the idea of being munched on while you’re pussy-scaping was nonexistent.

But he didn’t seem to care at all. He put his lips over your mound and went to town. Like all the way into town and back home again, then back to the strip so he could have dinner and seconds. He found all the parts that needed to be found under your pubic hair. You settled yourself back into the pillow and relaxed. Harry was a man who liked pussy clearly. He wasn’t deterred by the bush one bit.

Your clit was being given sufficient attention when he began to use his fingers in your crease, softly stroking you up and down until he placed his middle finger right at your hole. He prodded it in a bit and you looked down at him between your thighs. He had his eyes closed, his tongue lapping at you then you watched as his lips found your clit and he pulled at it, sucking you into his mouth and you gasped. He was good. This man was hot and he was good at giving head?

“Fuck, Harry! Right there…” you moaned your words, needing to let him know to keep up with what he was doing. He was going to get you off fast this way.

Harry moaned into your pussy and opened his eyes when he heard you and he nuzzled in further, shaking his head left to right quickly and slurping your clit just as he inserted a second finger. You felt it go in. Harry’s fingers were long and he was getting the job done nicely.

You arched your back at the distinct feeling of heat traveling from your groin outward. You slid one of your hands down and placed your fingers into his thick hair. Something you’d wanted to do since you first saw him earlier in the day. You just had no idea it would be happening while he was expertly eating you out in his hotel room at the Ritz.

You bucked upward toward him and panted, “I’m gonna come, Harry… please….” Your voice was shaky and your orgasm was beginning to blossom. Harry was making a mess of his face with your arousal as he dug in further, one hand holding you down while his other kept his fingers stroking your walls just like you needed.

The snap fuzzed up your hearing for a moment. Your ears rang as you came in his mouth, your body stiffening and jolting with each stroke of his tongue. You were sure you were speaking but your mouth and your brain didn’t meet up as you quivered under the man who was lapping at your pussy like there was no hair in the way.

You opened your eyes when Harry kissed both sides of your hips and sat back. He looked down at you with a grin as your chest was rising and falling quickly, “Holy shit. That was the fastest I’ve ever come from… that.”

Harry chuckled and got off the bed. He walked toward the dresser and you could see his hard cock pressing against the front of his dark briefs. He grabbed two glasses and a bottle of water and brought them to the bed. Pouring a glass for himself and for you. He sat down next to you as you sat up and handed you the glass, which you happily guzzled down. Harry did the same. You hoped he wasn’t washing away the taste of your hairy pussy. That would be embarrassing.

“Sorry. About the lack of trimming. I really didn’t expect to show anyone the goods tonight,” you laughed. It was so ridiculous for you to be apologizing for that. It was natural for most women to have hair on their crotch. Just like it was for men. You weren’t sure why you were apologizing. Maybe it was because Harry was so incredibly attractive.

Harry’s brows pinched together and he frowned, “Really? I mean, I don’t care about the hair, but you weren’t thinking you were gonna laid tonight? Looking like that?”

You shook your head, “No. Truly.”

“Well, you have a beautiful pussy. I doubt anyone would ever kick you out of bed for going au natural. Doesn’t bother me.”

You smiled at him and leaned forward to brush the back of your hand over his cock, “What about you? Do your trim?” You smirked.

Harry laughed through his nose and took your glass, placing his and yours on the side table before covering your hand with his and pressing your palm down on his lengthy cock. He brought his other hand up to you, his fingers at your neck and thumb over your cheek when he leaned in to kiss you.

When he backed away from the kiss he looked down to where he had your palm pressed over him, “Why don’t you check.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief but smiled and took the top band of his underwear in your hands and pulled at it, lowering the material and seeing the smattering of hair at his low stomach turn into a darker, thatch before his cock sprung out. The cock was a total distraction. You had forgotten all about the hair when you saw his large organ standing out.

Harry lifted his hips and helped you pull his underwear down. He was certainly nicely built. That was for sure.

You smiled at him and then looked back down at the masterpiece between his legs and leaned in to kiss the tip. Harry moved back, putting his arms behind him to give you space to worship him.

You heard him inhale a sharp breath when your lips came into contact with the tip of his crown and then you looked up at him, “May I?”

Harry nodded quickly and you stuck your tongue out to lick him up and down. You had a lot of area to cover with his penis but you managed to lick him from base to tip all around. He was very hard in your hand. Heavy and thick. You stuck your tongue softly into the slit at his head and looked up at him. He had his eyes closed and his mouth parted.

Just as you wrapped your lips around his tip and swirled your tongue over his frenulum he jolted his hips and gasped, “Wait, god… hold on…” his hand was at the back of your neck, pulling you off.

You looked up at him and then sat back, causing his hand to fall away from your neck.

“I’m not going to assume you wanted to have sex, but I kind of wanted to,” he kept his dark eyes on you.

You hated giving blow jobs if you were honest and Harry’s cock was going to cause some damage to your tonsils you could already tell. That monster might not even fit quite well enough for you to really get the job done anyway.

“So, you don’t want a blow job?” You queried, just to be sure.

“I love a good blow job, but…” he looked down and laughed as he shook his head and then set his eyes back on yours with a goofy grin, “this,” he gestured toward his crotch, “tends to take a little training. Not the easiest man to suck off.”

You raised your brows and scoffed, “So, you’re saying that you think your cock is so fat that I’d have trouble taking it down my throat and you’re giving me an easy out and offering to fuck me with that instead of choking me with it?”

Harry barked out a laugh and nodded, “Well, I guess you could put it that way.”

“Thank God, because that thing is quite daunting. Would rather have it in my vagina than my throat, so thank you for that,” you couldn’t believe this man, but he wasn’t wrong. In all honesty, he probably got used to this spiel. It kind of sounded like he’d said it all before.

“So you do want to have sex?” Harry repeated to be sure.

You rolled your eyes and climbed over his thighs, pushing at his chest to bring his back down to the mattress. You straddled his hips and put your unshaven pussy over his cock and then kissed him as your answer. You rolled your hips up and down and Harry grabbed your ass and guided you up and down along his shaft.

There was a lot of girth to rub yourself on with him so your clit was being pressed into on each stroke. Harry moaned into your mouth and pressed you down harder over him as he rocked upward, pressing himself between your slick folds.

“Come on…” he breathed out, “I’ve got a condom,” he said and nudged you up. You stayed in his lap as he leaned over and pulled out a condom from the side table. You found it interesting that he had a condom there being that this was a hotel room. You knew the pattern of men staying in hotels.

Condoms would typically be kept in the luggage or a wallet. Unless the man was expecting company… But you decided to let it go. So what if he was expecting company? Maybe he planned on getting lucky tonight when he went out and thought ahead by putting condoms conveniently in the side table (which is odd for a man to think ahead like that). A woman, now she would think ahead and put condoms in the side table because women think about things like that. Men don’t. Not normally. It’s not a big deal, but it’s also out of character for a man staying in a hotel that he only very recently checked into.

“You okay?” Harry asked you, making you realize you were stuck in your head a bit.

“Oh… yeah. I’m totally good,” you nodded feeling a bit like you were missing something important. Like you were being forewarned of something by the tiny revelation you just had.

You took a breath and tried to push the sudden inexplicable feeling you had down. You wanted him to fuck you. Of course, you did. But what was that feeling you were getting? This sense that something was off? You knew to trust your senses. You had a good read on people and something was not quite right. And you saw him twice in one day? In LA of all places? A strange man from out of town? Yeah… something was off.

You put your hands on Harry’s shoulders and frowned, “I’m… sorry…” you pinched your brows together as you slid off of his lap, “I think I should go.”

Part 2

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thatdeaniegirlsworld · 2 years

Text

Old Friend | 17|? | DEAN AMBROSE

OLD FRIEND 16 (×)

•

Hope you all enjoy this 😊 and I'm sorry for not posting regularly but I had so much going on. Gonna really make an effort to be active again for real this time

•

Send in some requests 😉😘

•

Okay so first... sorry that it's taken so long! A lots been going on but I'm gonna try my hardest to be active like I used to...

•

Secondly send in some requests ppls 😊 I literally have zero lol

•

Hurrying out of the Anoaʻi house, I was at my car that sat in the drive way in no time. Tears continuing to make their way down my face.

I couldn't believe Joe, the man I had come to know and love as a big brother would do this to me.

Letting Colby know where I was, or had been staying.

And worse bringing him here.

After knowing what he had done almost a month ago.

Kissing his fellow WWE superstar, Becky Lynch at some concert they were at.

I mean if you're going to cheat at least do it behind closed doors when you know you're a famous figure and find are quick to pull out phones just to get a picture and post it to every social media platform imaginable, making the woman you're mentioning in interviews, taking around family and friends at events, posting on the same social media sites, the woman you're supposedly I'm love with, look like a goddamn fool.

"Fucking jerk..." I mumbled, through tears, picking up my phone to dial the number of the one person who I knew would at least side with me.

The one that wouldn't try to play peace maker.

Like don't get me wrong I know Joe had or has only good intentions but still...

Just send a quick text or something so I could've prepared myself to face the man who's calls and texts I've been ignoring.

Purposely.

"Jon..?" I chocked out, upon hearing the sound of the man on the other line pick up his phone.

"Y|N|N..?" I heard Jon ask, his voice already filled with worry. "What's wrong? It's nothing with the baby is it?" He continued, throwing a couple more questions at me.

I shook my head, momentarily forgetting I was on the phone and he couldn't see before answering with a sniff. "N-no," I finally stuttered out. "Colby just showed up here with Joe. And I wasn't ready to see him because it's so hard to see him and not picture him with his lips on the red headed bi-"

"Y|N," Jon said stopping me before I could get my curse word out. "Have you stopped to think that maybe Joe thought that he was doing the best thing for you and your relationship with..." Jon stopped for a second or two before letting out a, "him," that was filled with the disgust he's been feeling for Colby since we found out that Colby indeed did the very thing Jon had tried to warn me he would do.

Well no its actually the disgust he's had from the start of my relationship with Colby.

I'm pretty sure it went all the way back to when Renee introduced me to the father of my child.

I wasn't necessarily with him or in view of his face to see his reaction but judging by how he was when he saw Colby at my old house a week later, I'm positive it wasn't good.

I frowned, just now noticing my tears had finally stopped rolling down my face. "That's not what I was expecting to hear." I replied with a huff. "Well it kinda was," I shrugged. "Because we both know Joe and there is nothing but good intentions with that man, but still..."

"But still what?" My best guy friend Jon, questioned, and even though we were on the phone, I could sense he had that annoying, but sorta adorable smirk that showed his dimples just a bit, on his face finding it amusing that he'd caught me off guard with his words. "You thought I'd agree and jump at the opportunity to talk shit about them?"

I groaned, rolling my eyes. "Not them, Jon." I mumbled feeling the need to remind him this call was only to bash one person.

The person that hurt me after promising me that was the very way he would never hurt me.

"Just him." I again spoke up, leaning back in the driver's seat of my car.

Jonathan sighed, "Trust me, with how I feel towards Colby for what he did to you, I also think it's time you talked to him so you can get out what you need and decide where it is you want to stand with your relationship with him." I heard say, unable to believe that I was talking to Jon.

My Jon.

Or is this my Jon?

I'm so confused...

"Where is my Jonathan?" I gasped, trying to fight the urge to laugh at my own dramatic outburst.

"Right here, Y|N." My friend replied, not bothering to hold in his chuckle before getting serious a few seconds later, throwing wisdom my way. "But you and him are having a baby, going to be parents, and as a soon to be dad myself, I think, well, know that if it was me and Renee in you and Colby's position I'd want someone to be a true friend to me and tell me where my girl was and that's what Joe understood as already being a dad."

My eyes widen, as I practically ignored all but one part of Jon's speech.

He's gonna be a dad?!

"You're gonna be a dad?" I squealed out, every bit of my sadness now washed completely away now.

Okay, so maybe not all of it, but still...

Hearing Jon's news definitely cheered me up.

"Renee's pregnant? How far along is she? Why didn't she tell me?" I wondered out loud to my friend, throwing question after question, after question at him. "Oh my gosh."

"Yeah, two months," Jon spoke up, happiness in his voice. "But don't call her or anything. We haven't told anyone yet, except family, and even though you're basically family to us, she thought it'd be best to wait until you weren't going through a rough patch with Colby before-"

I frowned, shaking my head. "You guys didn't have to keep that hidden for my sake. I could be sad for myself and happy for you and Renee at the same time." I giggled, adding a quick, "congratulations," to him before leaning back in the seat of my car, rubbing my growing bump that was starting to show through my clothes if they were fitted.

For a few more minutes me and Jon continued our talk, as I joked with him how me moving to another state seemed to be the one of the best things that could happen to their relationship as of late.

How our first borns are gonna be close in age, and grow up to be the best of friends.

I basically got so caught up in talking with Jon that I lost track of time and forgot why I was even sitting in my car in the first place.

I really needed this

•

Colby stood up for like the forth or fifth time beginning to pace again.

It's been almost an hour and she still hasn't come back in

"I should go and see if she's okay." He spoke up, placing the beer he was swirling around in his hand, unable to enjoy it, down on the island in Joe and Galina's kitchen. "She may be in trouble or something." Colby added, exaggerating.

"I think she just doesn't want to see your cheating face." His friend, Galina said, her voice just a whisper but still loud enough for Colby and her husband Joe to hear.

"Seriously?" Colby asked, starting to get frustrated at not just Galina's words but the fact that his girl was avoiding him by staying out in her car. "Did you not hear anything I said when trying to tell you what actually went on with me and Becky?"

Joe's wife simply crossed her arms in a careless manner. "You did but it's still not a reason to do what you did." She replied, taking up for the mother of Colby's unborn child. "And you shouldn't have done that to her regardless of what the situation was."

As much as Colby hated having to defend himself to her, he, at the same time loved that she was willing to stand up for Y|N.

He found solace in the fact that the friends he'd known for over ten years, who were like family to him, was also like family for his better half.

And was ready to defend her when she wasn't around to defend herself.

"I know, and-" Just as Colby was about to respond a then silent Joe finally spoke up, muting both Colby and Galina for a moment.

"I'll go see how she's doing." He said, picking up an unopened package of oreos. "She's probably pissed about what I did too, so I'll go apologize to Y|N|N and then maybe see if I can get her to come in and talk to you."

Colby nodded, before raising an eyebrow. "And you need oreos to do that?"

"Dude," Joe began, giving Colby a look. "Have you never heard of a peace offering?" He asked before walking out of the house, not waiting for a answer.

But just when he got outside, and laid eyes on Y|N's car, he could see the driver side door open, and her getting out.

"Damn, Y|N," he said with a groan of some sort. "I was just coming to lure you out with some oreos." He said, his face forming a childish pout.

He saw Y|N shake her head, giving him a playful hit on his arm after she reached him. "No milk?"

"I knew I forgot something," Joe replied, face palming himself. "I was so worried about coming out her to find you and apologize that I forgot the milk. Stupid, stupid me."

"Aw, you're not stupid..." Y|N replied, trying to keep from laughing. "An oreo peace offering is still good even without the milk." She added, holding out her hand to Joe. "Now gimmie."

Joe smiled, sighing in relief to himself as he placed a few cookies in Y|N's palm, grabbing a couple for himself before placing the package down on the hood of her car as they both leaned up against it. "So we're good?" He asked, a hopeful smile on his face.

"We were never not good, Joseph." Y|N smiled back, leaning over and swiping the package of oreos. "You don't need anymore of thes."

"Oh, and you do?" Joe, chuckled, getting a nod from Y|N.

"I'm pregnant so, yeah." She replied with a giggle.

Joe chuckled. "Pregnancy looks good on you." He replied, seeing Y|N try to hide the redness that was starting to show on her face, before saying a quick "thank you."

Both of them soon let a silence take over before Joe cleared his throat, gaining a side eye from Y|N.

"You didn't just come out here so we could share oreos did you?" She questioned, now looking down and playing with her fingers.

Joe shook his head. "I really came out to apologize for brin-"

"For bringing my ex boyfriend here..." She mumbled, causing Joe to stand up from the relaxed, leaned back position against the car he was previously in.

"Ex? You decided on breaking up?" He asked, feeling worse than before that he had brought Colby here.

Y|N shrugged, as he waited for her to say something. "No..." She trailed off, looking down to fumble with her nails. "I just wanted to see how it felt to call him that."

"And?" Joe pressed on.

"I hated it." Y|N said with a sigh. "Even after what he did, me not having any contact with him for almost a month, practically crying myself to sleep over him, and not seeing him..." She paused to bite her lip. "I still love him. And I hate that too."

Joe nodded, holding out his hand for Y|N to take it. "I get it, but he told me what happened between him and Becky and I think you should let him try and explain it to you so you can see things a bit clearer to make the right decision for you."

"And if I want to after, I can dump him?" He heard Y|N ask with a playful smirk on her face.

"Hell yeah." Joe immediately responded with a laugh, grabbing Y|N and pulling her in to a side hug as they both started to walk back to the house.

•

Okay, Y|N it's time

Time to face the man you've been avoiding, that is...

"I'll take Galina with me to go pick up the kids from my mom's so you and him can have the house to yourselves." Joe whispered to me, seconds before we both walked into the house.

I nodded, swallowing hard.

Me and Colby was about to be alone together for the first time since he'd left for the live events and house shows he was scheduled for, that week, which was also a couple days before i had found out about him and Becky.

Ugh!

Why couldn't you have told me a few minutes ago that you was planning on leaving me alone with him, Joe? I mentally questioned him.

I would've literally begged him to stay.

The second me and Joe entered the house, both of our significant others, well Joe's significant other and the man who stepped all over my heart, came rushing out of the kitchen, my eyes immediately locking on Colby.

It was weird, no matter what I felt for him, and it wasn't anything good at the moment, I couldn't help but think of how much I had missed those beautiful brown eyes of his.

It's just, right now they looked like they held nothing but sadness.

They didn't shine as bright as they usually do.

Was that because of me?

Was he also broken over this whole thing?

"Hmm..?" I questioned, my words barely audible as I looked at Galina.

I had completely blocked out anything that was being said, as my attention was only focused on Colby.

"I said, don't let that idiot get you too upset." She repeated, shooting a glare at Colby.

Nodding my head, I tried to fight back a laugh, but failed as I replied with a quick, "yes ma'am," making Galina join in on the laughing as we gave each other a hug.

"I mean it though Y|N." She spoke up again, as we pulled away to leave out the door with her husband.

She is such a mama bear

"I'm pretty sure she hates me with a passion right now." I heard Colby say, once we were finally alone in the house.

You can't blame her

After noticing my silence, he began walking over to where I was standing, stopping by the couch and motioning for us to have a seat, which I eventually did after a few seconds.

"Okay, so um..." I heard him speak up again, scratching af the back of his head, like I've noticed he would always do when he was nervous to say something. "First off, Y|N," he paused and reluctantly reached out to grab my hand. "I'm sorry and I miss you Y|N|N."

I missed you too, Colby, I mentally confessed to him unable to bring myself to say the words out loud.

Not this second, at least.

Colby eventually let go of my hand and sighed, his head hanging low, before he brought it back up, looking at me once again. "I didn't mean to hurt you the way I did Y|N..." He said again as his words sorta trailed of, like he was trying to figure out what to say next and believe me when I say, I wish he didn't say what he eventually did.

"I just wish you had found out about me and Becky from me, and not from the internet."

Oh god

So it is something between him and her...

Is that why he hasn't called me babe or baby like he mostly always have done?

Is he about to confess his love for her to me?

•

TAGS -

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thatdeaniegirlsworld · 2 years

Text

Proof

Pairing: Seth Rollins x Fem Reader

Summary: As a former member of the Shield, the reader is put in great distress when Seth enters his match against Roman at the Royal Rumble in his Shield gear, reinacting their entrance. Overcome with emotion, she doesn't expect to cross paths with him later on, needing proof in order to believe his words during their exchange...

Warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY!) (Also, Dean Ambrose is referenced as Jon!)

Requested by: No One (But I hope you all enjoy it!)

Word Count: 2188

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @jessiebean00 @new-zealand-chic @crowleysqueenofhell @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @thatpanpal @hungmanhorsecarriage @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose @whenimakeitshine1234

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF:

We’d always sit in the back part of every arena regardless the magnitude of a show or paperview, even if it was Wrestlemania. Deep in the back where no one could find us, anyone else would’ve found it odd, but that was our favorite spot, back when I was in the Shield.

“Sierra, Hotel, India, Echo, Lima, Delta. SHIELD.”

Chills ran down my spine, hairs on the back of my neck stood tall and the sight of Seth making his way through the crowd in his old gear sent me into the past, for a moment I saw Roman, Jon, and myself behind him.

My blinking was uncontrollable, telling myself that this wasn’t happening but it was. I knew Seth was good at getting inside of someone’s head, psychological warfare in order to gain an advantage in a match, but I never thought he’d do something like this.

It was so hard to watch their match and despite disliking Roman’s recent attitude, I couldn’t blame him for not breaking his submission. I knew that if I were in his shoes, I’d be wrestling with emotion. I probably wouldn’t even let Seth past the barricade and finish his entrance.

Roman smacking Seth in the back with a chair, returning that devastating moment put me in a flashback. The arena filled with a shocking gasp, the silence falling along with my heart.

Backing into the corner, unable to move and not believing what I saw when Seth smack Roman with a chair, but it was oh so real. Seth turning his back on us. That day our lives changed so drastically.

I couldn’t bear the pent up emotion that I was beginning to drown in, rushing past everyone in the arena like there was an emergency, but when I got down to the back where they kept all of the chairs and giant bins, everything felt so calm.

Dark, quiet, not a soul in sight. Just like I remembered every night being. A place where I once had great memories, but now? Heartbreak, a whole in my chest where that love once rested.

Slowly, I crawled on top of a bin, back against the wall, reminiscing about my shield days, almost able to feel the ghost of our former selves around me.

My eyes jolted open when I heard metal clanking softly. Any time someone came down in there, we stood our guard and this was no different, stealthy jumping down from the bin, staying hidden in the shadows, waiting for whatever it was, till I saw the silhouette of a familiar figure, a bowed head with hair falling toward the floor.

Seth freakin’ Rollins himself.

His awareness was still sharp, head turning slowly when I stood up and even in the darkness, he knew, whispering, “Fitting that I’d find you here.”

With each breath I took, I was shaking like hell. Much like Roman, ready to grab a chair and beat him with it.

“Roman and I have our differences now too,” My anger spoke, “But I don’t blame him one bit for what he just did.”

“Of course,” He chuckled, which pissed me off, my anger speaking more:

“Don’t act like this a joke! Do you have any idea how badly you hurt us that day?!”

The small glimmer of light there was fell between our distance, his brown eyes visible through his hair and for a change, he didn’t look like a madman, but my anger didn’t let believe any thing coming from him, ranting:

“Roman and Jon loved you like a brother! You were my best friend! We did everything together and you ruined it just to become a champion? Something we could’ve helped you with! Fulfill a prophecy that only very few factions accomplished here! You always had the potential, as much as I hate admitting it now, and you still decided to be a snake! And you should consider yourself lucky because if I were Roman, I would’ve done a lot, lot worse. Wearing that gear you don’t deserve to wear, coming out to our anthem? The nerve that you have! You are more brave than you are smart, ironic that they call you an architect!”

Years of emotion were trapped deep inside of me, finally released in that moment, tears following like a river, voice cracking through my expression:

“Then you just completely avoided me. Like a ghost even when you continued to have your moments with Roman and Jon, even if it wasn’t long. No one has ever caused me such horrible pain like you did Seth! I’ve never had such a massive hole in my heart and it can never be filled. Never! What are you even doing down here?!”

Seth had no words for me as I expected, although I never expected to explode like this, didn’t realize how hard I was crying, reliving the immense pain till the whole world around came to a screeching stop.

I sensed nothing till warmth met my cheek, the soft skin of his thumb wiping away my tears, lips were quivering, but instantly calm when met with such passion. For the first time in a long time, I felt true emotion from him.

A fire ignited underneath of me when Seth’s lips came against mine, a hard press to get his emotions across yet so tender, shaking because of how breathless I was and when he stopped for a breath, eyes meeting my gaze, I saw someone I hadn’t seen in forever. My best friend.

“Y/N,” He whispered, feeling his hand shake a little while cradling my face with both hands, thumbs wiping away the rest of my tears, “Going out as the Shield tonight was just mind games for Roman, but I get it. What I did caused irreversible damage, but I stayed away for a reason. What I did had a reason, even if you don’t understand and like Roman, if you never want to forgive me, I’ll accept that.”

My mind blanked. I didn’t know what to think, put into even more shock when he admitted:

“It’s quite clear that breaking up the Shield was the only thing I’ve done that hurt you and that’s why I stayed away. I couldn’t break your heart more while I love you.”

This was actually happening. Seth was being himself again. In the back of my mind, I just knew meanwhile the confusing emotions needed more than words to believe truly, expressing:

“You love me? Then prove it.”

His chest began to heave slightly, knowing there would be no more chances like the one he had right now, breathing, “This is the only way I can prove it.”

His next kiss hit me even harder, wind intensifying the chills when he ripped off the vest he wore, one arm around my neck and the other around my hip to reel me into a deep embrace, chest against chest, able to feel how both of our hearts were pumping so hard, hot blood creating an impenetrable heat.

The moment I saw that chair hit Romans back, I built a wall between Seth and I, but with his lips speaking true emotion, love like poetry during that kiss, it made me ready to take a match and burn that wall down to ashes.

His heart pounded like a drum, lips parting to breathe and uncontrollably, I pulled him back to me. That fire beneath me grew stronger, that wall between us engulfed in flames and burning down.

Seth had a fire of his own that met with mine, moving on our own, back smacking the wall, his lips pressing my head up against it, about melting when he backed away to throw his shirt off, but showing concern:

“Seth, you just had a really rough match-“

“I’m just fine,” He rebutted, coming right back at me, “I’ve never felt my adrenaline rush like this.”

I knew exactly how he felt, gasping at how fast the adrenaline in my body took off, no longer questioning anything, hand tangling up in his hair during a steaming hot kiss, tongue giving each other directions.

Anyone else would’ve thought that this would be slutty or obscene, but regardless if the Shield was together or not, this was a sacred place.

We followed what our lips gave off, kicking off my shoes and stepping out of my jeans and panties, eyes lustful while glancing downward to witness Seth basically naked, cock standing against the fur of his stomach, hands having no patience, taking me by the thighs and strength able to hold me perfectly still.

“You were always a little shit,” I joked, making us both giggling, loving that he was laughing purely.

“Always got us into trouble regardless,” He smirked, kissing, “You know I like taking risks and I really can’t help myself right now.”

“Neither can I,” My voice ached with anticipation, “I like taking risks too.”

“We were partners in crime after all,” He remembered, having my legs latch around his waist with a sweet gasp, handful of hair again while easing my hips down, tip of his cock stretching me slowly, faint moans rolling off my lips.

He wasn’t afraid to show his emotions with some noise, sharing a moan with me and sliding the rest of his cock up my walls, hitting sensitive points high and low, keeping me full and letting our hips meet.

“Oh dear god,” I couldn’t believe, the feeling creating such a blissful high, naturally rolling my hips against his, clearly a feeling that he liked, kissing to me:

“Do you believe me yet?”

Only moans could answer his question for now, sent into another world and impressed with how he could move quickly like he was, body tense and able to sense that adrenaline rush he mentioned, squeezing my hips tight and thrust every inch up so his tip could smack my sweet spot.

My head snapped back into the wall, breathing hitched and the pulse in my neck throbbing hard at all the kisses he placed along my neck, unable to help the slight sucks and bites, whispering to me:

“Have I proved myself yet? Tell me.”

“Seth,” I whined, tugging at his roots softly, spine arching with an ache.

He could always read me easily, able to keep me up right and hold me even with one arm wrapped around my neck, hand palming the arch of my back, tending to my every move, but hips still able to work, cock able to still pound away and even bottom me out.

That hole in my heart was filling with every touch, word, and noise; letting him know that and even earning a moan from him when my hips began working with his, adrenaline giving me the speed to match his, walls squeezing the hell out his girth.

“I believe you, Seth,” I cried happily, lips smacking his, “And I love you too.”

His arms about put me in a bear hug, but the sweetest hug, moving too fast for me to match, moans echoing all around us like ping pong, unable to stop nor wanting to and tears of happiness rolled down my cheek when he cooed to me:

“I’ve always loved you and I’m sor-, sorry it took me so long to show you.”

“It’s okay,” I gasped, arms wrapping around his head, thighs squeezing his lower core tight, “Just don’t s-s-stop. Please, Seth.”

“I won’t, baby,” He panted, maintaining that wicked pace that was still so passionate, earning more moans and truthful praises, soon only able to whine his name out, walls fitting him like a glove, cunt dripping wet and only wanting more, friction not letting him go whatsoever.

I never knew what would fill that hole in my heart, never expected it to be this, but I knew the moment we started kiss, he was it, holding him so tight, gasping desperately, shuddering in his embrace and so thankful for the great strength that he had.

“S-Seth! Seth!” I cried, nails dug into his shoulder, tugging at his scalp again and his kiss consoled me, cock hitting my sweet spot, wetness and pressure against my clit that sent me into another extreme high, walls pulsating and then slicking him.

I could briefly tell it was more than he expected, but working right through it till he had to stop, head resting along my shoulder while taking the air that we both needed.

“Y/N, just know that I wasn’t lying. Everything is so complicating,” He breathed heavily, but met my gaze, “But I’m not lying.”

“I know,” I exhaled, “If I didn’t I wouldn’t have said I love you too, let this happen or even let you kiss me.”

That put a pure smile on his face, not one of those mad ones, once again the Seth that I knew and loved, arms keeping me snug in another hug, head nuzzling mine, “You know, we never left this place alone.”

“Have a feeling I’m not leaving alone at all tonight,” I smiled, smiling more when he kissed softly:

“We’re going to pick up that habit, again.”

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