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atlafan · 2 years ago

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Violet Chemistry - Part One

In the criminal justice system, sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous...the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit. These are their stories.

a/n: I’m posting part one here, and the rest will be on my patreon. A few disclaimers: I am not promoting copaganda. I have simply re-watched 22 seasons of Law and Order: SVU and I wanted to write my own thing based off of the main characters Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson. If you’ve never watched SVU some of this is going to be very confusing, but I tried my best to explain things so you wouldn’t necessarily need the SVU background. Harry is basically Elliot, and Ronnie is basically Olivia. I am not an expert on the criminal justice system or special victims, I simply used the information from the show to create this story. So much of this fic is probably inaccurate.

Warnings: THERE WILL BE MANY TRIGGERS IN THIS STORY! The words rape, homicide, pedophilia, murder, etc are used throughout this fic. If these things deeply upset you or trigger you, please do not read this story. Mentions of cheating, domestic violence, and other upsetting content is also intertwined throughout this story. Again, if these are things you don’t like, then please don’t read it.

Words: 6.6K

Main Characters: Detective Harry Styles, Detective Cameron (Ronnie) Walsh

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“RONNIE!!”

It all happened so fast. Harry did the one thing he shouldn’t have: he ran to help his partner instead of chasing after the perp.

“SOMEONE CALL A BUS, NOW!” He screamed to the vice squad behind him while he added pressure to where Ronnie was bleeding out.

The EMT’s got to her as soon as they could, and when they told Harry he couldn’t ride with them to the hospital due to the severity of the wounds, but he went ballistic and they backed off, letting him into the back of the ambulance. The only people he listened to were the nurses at the hospital that told him he couldn’t go into the operating room. That’s when his captain caught up with him.

“I’m not leaving the hospital. Not until I know she’s alive and breathing.”

“Harry-“

“I don’t want to hear it, Cap.”

“Harry.” The captain yanked him aside and made him look at him. “You haven’t even asked about what happened to Jones. Did you forget what you’re on the payroll for?”

“Of course not.” He has tears rolling down his cheeks, but he’s so angry he doesn’t even realize. “I know I fucked up, but I saw Ronnie go down, and-“

“The chief is going to want you two separated after this.”

“I figured.” Harry looks away from him.

“I’m going to have the doc talk with both of you. You both need a psychological evaluation. Then a decision will be made.”

“Your decision or the chief’s?”

“Mine. He trusts my judgement. But I need to make sure I can trust both of yours.”

“Fine.”

“You still haven’t asked about Jones.”

“Respectfully, Cap, right now I don’t give a fuck about that piece of shit. Reynolds and Miller were there too, and since they’re not here worrying over Ronnie the way that I am, I’m assuming they caught Jones, or they’re down at the DA’s office waiting for arraignment.”

“They did catch him.” The captain nods.

“And the other underage girls? We only got a few of them out.”

“Found in one of his broken-down trailers, alive. Miller’s contacted their parents, they’re on their way here now. We had them sent right here so they could be checked over.”

“Obviously.”

“Don’t give me attitude, Harry. I’m giving you a very small, brief pass since Walsh is your partner, but that doesn’t mean you’re not on thin ice.”

“Heard, Cap.”

“Excuse me, Detective Styles?” A nurse taps him on the shoulder. “You’re listed as Cameron Walsh’s emergency contact, so I’m allowed to give you the particulars of her surgery. Who is this?” She nods towards the captain.

“Our captain, he can listen. She’d want him to.”

“Okay. Four bullets were removed from the body. Two were in her chest, one in her left shoulder, and one was lodged in between her ribs. The doctors were able to get them all out, but she’s in a medically induced coma.”

“What, why?” Harry’s eyes widen with panic.

“She started seizing from the blood loss. The doctors felt it was necessary.”

“So, when will she wake up?”

“When her body lets her. They’re still getting her stitched up and bandaged. They’ll be taking her to a private room shortly. Once she’s set up, I’ll come get you.”

“Alright, thank you.” The nurse walks away, and Harry takes out his phone.

“Are you texting Mark?”

“No.” Harry scoffs. “I’m messaging Reynolds and Miller that Ronnie’s alive.”

“Don’t you think you should contact Mark?”

“I don’t want him here, so no.”

“That’s not up to you. He’s her boyfr-“

“I know what he is.” Harry snaps. “I’m her emergency contact, not him. Get a clue, Cap.”

“That’s strike two, Detective. Check yourself.”

A little while later, Harry rushes to the room that’s been set up for Ronnie. He stops short of the doorway. It’s scary seeing her hooked up to all the machines. He steps in slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed. He takes her hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze. She has a few scrapes on her face, but nothing serious. He looks at how messy her hair is, and it makes him laugh softly.

“You’d hate the way you look right now.” He stands up and pulls an elastic off his wrist. He props her head up just enough so he can pull her hair back into a French braid. “Remember when you first taught me how to do this? Katie was about three, and Kathleen was on vacation with her girlfriends so I was on double parent duty. I was father of the year for being able to braid Katie’s hair the way Kathleen usually did.” He sighs and ties the end of her hair with the elastic and sets her head back down. He pulls a chair up so he can sit by her. “Don’t worry, Ron, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you.”

Five Years Earlier

“Styles, I’d like you to meet your new partner, Detective Cameron Walsh.” Captain Sellers smiles as the other detectives crowd around to say hello.

“I go by Ronnie, hi.” She smiles as she shakes Harry’s hand.

“Nice to meet you. You’re joining us from homicide, yeah?”

“Mhm. I’ve always wanted to work in SVU, so I jumped at the chance when the position opened up.”

“You wanted to add rape and kiddie porn to your murder, huh?” Harry smirks and Ronnie grins at him.

The two clicked instantly. Harry took Ronnie out for a drink that night so they could get to know each other better, and so he could give her some tricks of the trade.

“I’ve been in special victims for four years now. It never gets easier. There’ll be cases you take extremely personally, but you have to try not to. I still do it sometimes, it’s tough not to picture these things happening to your own family and friends. In homicide, all your victims are dead, right? Well, in special victims, more often than not, they’re alive. It’s hard when you have to make someone relive a rape, or having to listen to a child talk about how someone they trusted took advantage of them.”

“You’re saying things I already know. I’ve been trained on all this. I’ve dealt with families and friends of victims. A lot of it is the same. Compassion and relating is important and more effective than accusing the perp.”

“Exactly. You might find yourself having to pretend to agree with a pedophile. It’s the worst, but-“

“It’s worth it if we can get an admission.”

“Yup.” Harry takes a sip of his beer. “Alright, so, what made you want to join special victims? You said you always wanted to work in this unit.”

“I…this is something I didn’t even tell my last partner, but…I feel like we’re really forming a bond here, so…I’m the…product of a rape.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry.” He leans in so he can listen to her better.

“I’m lucky in that my mother didn’t treat me like scum. I know it was hard for her sometimes, but for the most part we had a good relationship.”

“Had?”

“She died last year. Sclerosis of the liver. She coped by drinking.” Harry goes to open his mouth, but she stops him. “Don’t say you’re sorry again, it’s alright.”

“Do you know who your father is?”

“No. When I was younger I wanted to know because I hated that I came from someone that could do something so heinous to someone else, but recently…I don’t know, it doesn’t bother me anymore that I don’t know who he is. I just hope he didn’t ruin anyone else’s life.” She takes a sip of her own drink. “What about you? Why are you in SVU?”

“I sort of just fell into it. I’m tough enough to handle the perps. I’m good with kids. I actually just had one of my own. Well, my wife had her, but you get what I mean.” He takes out his phone to show Ronnie his lock screen. “That’s my wife, Kathleen, and our baby girl, Katie.”

“Oh wow. How old is your baby?”

“She’s six months.” He smiles fondly down at the picture. “Kathleen was my high school sweetheart. We broke up when I served. I was a navy seal. When I came home we got back together and got married. Best decision I ever made. I love being a family man. My household was so fucked up when I was a kid. I like knowing I’m providing a positive environment for my daughter.”

“That’s amazing. How do you make time for them? This job can feel never ending sometimes.”

“You have to build in those boundaries. Obviously we have to keep working until the job is done, but when the captain tells you to go home, just go home. You can’t do your job right if you’re exhausted.”

“True.” She nods.

“Try to do as I say and not as I do. Cap and I butt heads on the regular. I have a temper. Most of the time I can keep it together, but sometimes I lose it. It depends on how much the perp is pissing me off.” He looks her up and down. “Anything else I should know about you?”

“You mean other than the fact that my mother was a rape victim? No, I don’t have any other skeletons.” She smirks, and it makes him laugh.

“I’m glad you can joke about those things.”

“It helps make the job more bearable at times.”

“Sure does.”

The two went on to work very well together. Ronnie got to meet Harry’s wife and baby. Kathleen would often come see Harry for lunch if it was a paperwork heavy day.

After a year on the job together, the two got close. Ronnie was having trouble in her personal life. That is, her love life was nonexistent. One afternoon, when they were sitting in the car as they staked out a perp, Ronnie asked Harry for some advice.

“Can I ask you something personal?” She says.

“Depends on what the subject is.” He says as he continues looking out the window.

“Sex.”

“I’m listening.”

“I can’t get aroused.” She tells him bluntly, causing his head to snap in her direction. “Any time I even think of dating, I talk myself out of it. It’s like…it’s like my mind goes to the worst possible place. I think every man is going to try to take advantage of me, or that they’re playing me, buttering me up. Did you ever have trouble when you first started in special victims?”

“Oh, yeah. I couldn’t get it up for like three months.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Kathleen was ready to kill me. I mean, I’ve got a mouth and hands, but it got to a point where when I’d get between her legs I’d get flashes of the gruesome shit I’d seen.”

“How did you move past it?”

“Talking to Kathleen, and time. When was your last date?”

“I don’t know, a year.”

“You haven’t had sex in a year?”

“I guess not.” She shrugs.

“And you haven’t taken care of things yourself?”

“I told you, I can’t get aroused. I can’t even watch porn anymore because I keep thinking all the girls are underage and are being forced into it.”

“So, nothing gets you even a little wet anymore?”

“Harry.” She sucks her teeth and shoves his shoulder.

“I’m not going to tell anyone, I never tell anyone what we talk about. Partner confidentiality.”

“I’m as dry as a bone.”

“You need to, I don’t know, do something for yourself. Like, light some candles, take a bubble bath, use a new vibrator, or something. Kathleen has this one toy that-“

“I don’t need to know about the toys you and your wife use.”

“You know, Miller is single, and I know for a fact he thinks you’re cute.”

“I know he does, but I don’t shit where I eat.”

“Not even for one night?”

“Nope.”

“I can ask Kathleen if she has any single friends, we could go on a double date.”

“I’m all set.”

“Do you have a problem with my wife all of a sudden?”

“What, no. I just don’t think we should necessarily combine those areas of our lives. You’re always saying it’s important not to bring work home with you. Getting too familiar with your family would be a bit much.”

“Just say you don’t want to hang out with me, I’m a big boy.” He rolls his eyes.

“You’re annoying.” She shoves his shoulder again, making him chuckle.

“In all seriousness, it just takes time. Don’t force yourself. When you feel like giving it a try with someone, you’ll know. You’ll feel that familiar zip of electricity go through you. You’ll be drenching your panties again like you never stopped.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Harry.” She laughs so hard she snorts.

Harry always found a way to make Ronnie laugh.

But things weren’t always so funny. By the time Harry’s daughter was two and a half, Kathleen kicked him out of the house. She was sick of him not putting the family first, and he was sick of her not understanding that with his type of job he can’t always do that. He had been pissy at work for a while, and when he finally snapped at Ronnie while they were working a case, she snapped back when they returned to the squad room.

“Don’t ever talk to me like that again.” She says to him. “I don’t need you making me look bad in front of the perps.”

“Then do your job correctly.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“I was. Whatever your problem’s been lately, get the fuck over it. I’m your partner, don’t treat me like it’s my first day on the job.”

“Kathleen and I separated.”

“What?” Her features soften.

“Kathleen and I separated last month. Not legally, but I’m living in my old apartment that I had been subletting.”

“What happened?”

“I wasn’t being a good enough father and husband, according to her. So, now I get to see my daughter even less.”

“You should ask Cap for some time off. You and Kat have been together forever, you’ll get past this.”

“I don’t know, something’s different this time.” He runs a hand through his hair. “She thinks I prefer spending time here…with you.”

“Oh please.” Ronnie groans. “That’s so cliché. She knows nothing’s going on between us. I’d never break up a family.”

“So if I wasn’t married with a kid you’d be okay with breaking us up?” He smirks, and she shoves his shoulder. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be joking right now. She thinks I have better communication skills with you than with her. But that’s only because any time I’d tell her about what was going on at work she’d stop me halfway through because she didn’t want all the details. Eventually I just stopped talking about work at all. Turns out, we just don’t have anything left to talk about.”

“That can’t be true.” Ronnie frowns.

“I think it is. I just want to do right by Katie, she’s my top priority. That’s the one thing Kathleen and I are agreeing on right now.”

“I hope you know you don’t have to keep something like this from me. I’m not a blabber mouth.”

“I know, it’s just embarrassing. I fucked up, and I didn’t do anything to stop it.”

“This is a tough job, and it’s even tougher to have a family to go home to. I can’t imagine the stress that causes.”

“Every little kid we come across, all I can think about is what if something like that happened to Katie. I won’t be able to protect her forever, and it kills me.”

“Did you explain that to Kathleen?”

“Of course I did! We went to therapy for weeks, but I didn’t say all the things she wanted to hear. She’s done.”

“Let me take you to dinner later. We can hit up the Chinese place, have some drinks, and…just turn our brains off for a while.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Would you rather go home to an empty apartment?”

“No.” He smiles softly. “Alright, Chinese and drinks after work. Thanks, Ron.”

“No thanks necessary.”

Ronnie wanted to jump for joy, which made her feel terrible. She has nothing against Kathleen, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t have feelings for Harry. She knows it’s dumb to fall for your partner, but they spend so much time together. He knows her in a way that no one else does. She loves him. She’s in love with him. She’s not going to press her luck, but maybe after some time without Kathleen, Harry will realize that if he and Ronnie do things right, they could be together. It’s not totally uncommon for detectives to get together, and it’s certainly not against the rules. She catches him looking at her sometimes, she knows this isn’t completely one sided.

Harry got shot. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. But this time around, he realized what was really important to him: his wife and his daughter. After he got out of the hospital, he went home. He just wanted to see Katie. He got to tuck her in and read her a story, and when he was done with that, Kathleen asked him to stay. He wasn’t going to say no to that.

Ronnie can’t read Harry. Which is strange because she can always read him. He’s been antsy lately. He’s constantly checking his phone, his mood goes from hot to cold in seconds.

“Hey, can we talk?” She asks him, and they both go into the bunk room for some privacy.

“What’s up?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you. You’ve been weird lately.”

Harry sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t going to say anything for at least another month, but Kathleen’s pregnant.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“My wife is pregnant.”

“Who’s the father?”

“Um, me.” He says, completely offended.

“How could you be the father? You’re not even living together.”

“That’s the thing, we’ve been working on reconciling.”

“Since when?”

“Since I got shot a few months ago. I went over to see her, and I asked if I could come home. We’ve been going out on dates, doing things as a family again. It’s reignited our spark.”

“So, you got shot, then went and fucked Kathleen?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you guys gonna do?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I just…do you think it’s a good idea to bring another kid into your situation? How long could these good times last? We both grew up in fucked up households, you know how bad it is. Why would you want to put another kid through that?”

“I can’t believe you’re even suggesting Kathleen have an abortion. She doesn’t want that.”

“How do you know? Did you ask her? How does she feel about it?”

“We’ve always wanted more than one kid, of course she’s fine with it. She’s really excited to be pregnant again.”

“Are you two at least back in therapy? I mean, have things changed? Are you being a better husband and father this time around? Or do you only care now because she’s pregnant?”

“Don’t interrogate me, Ronnie.”

“I’m not trying to! But you’re not thinking rationally about this, Harry. Do you really want to make things work with Kathleen after these last seven months?”

“See, this is why I didn’t talk to you about this.” He shakes his head.

“What does that mean?”

“It means, you wouldn’t understand the trials and tribulations of marriage. For fuck sake, Ron, I’m the longest relationship you’ve ever had with a man!” Her mouth falls open at that. “Whatsamatter, baby, you can dish it but you can’t take it?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Oh, you’ve wounded me.” He puts his hand over his heart, mocking her.

“How could you even say something like that to me?”

“It’s the truth. You can’t make any relationship work. I’m the only guy in your life you trust. Maybe you should go to therapy.”

“You know what, from now on, let’s just keep our personal lives private. I won’t ask you about yours, and you won’t ask me about mine.”

“Works for me, partner.”

Ronnie makes an exasperated noise, and huffs out the door. She nearly runs over Kathleen.

“Kat, hi!”

“Hi.” Kathleen smiles softly. “Were you just in there with Harry? Alone?”

“Yeah, we needed to have a private discussion. He told me the good news, congrats.”

“You look thrilled for us.” Kathleen rolls her eyes.

“Look, I’m not saying it’s not a blessing, but I just think-“

“Walsh.” Harry’s low voice bites through the air. “Don’t you have some paperwork you need to get done?”

“Don’t you know you can’t tell me what to do? We’re the same rank, you prick.” She walks away from the two of them. She needs to clear her head.

After taking a month off for paternity leave to help Kathleen with their new baby boy, Harry returns to work. It’s hard leaving his three favorite people, but he knows he needs to get back to SVU. This time around, he’s going to set limits where he can. He’ll take a break to go home for dinner, then come back to work if he needs to. He’s not going to screw this up a second time.

Harry checks in with his captain first thing, then catches up with Reynolds and Miller. He looks around for Ronnie, but she’s not there. He figures she must be out on assignment. But much to his surprise, she comes walking into the squad room with a cup of coffee in one hand, and a man by her side. She’s giggling and has rosy cheeks. The man walks her over to her desk. She sits up on top of it, and he leans down to speak in her ear, making her smile. She nods and kisses his cheek before he leaves. Harry approaches her with a smug look on his face.

“I leave for a month and you already have a new man in your life?” He jokes, and she hops off her desk to hug him.

“Welcome back, Styles.” She gives him one more squeeze before letting him go. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Ron.”

“I’m sorry I never came to the hospital, or to the house…I didn’t want you to think of work while you were away.”

“That’s alright, I’ve got tons of pictures to show you.”

“What’s his name?”

“Eddie.” He smiles fondly. “Edward, actually, but we’re calling him Eddie.”

“I like that.” She smiles.

“So…” He sets his jacket down and loosens his tie a little. “Who’s the guy?”

“He’s our new ADA.”

“What happened to Timmins?”

“She got offered a better salary with homicide.” Ronnie shrugs. “His name is Mark Hayes. We butted heads at the beginning, but we ended up going out for drinks one night and one thing led to another.”

“What happened to not shitting where you eat?” Harry smirks at her.

“I’m not, he’s at a completely different table. It’s not like we see each other all the time. He has other cases he’s working, you know?”

“Isn’t it a conflict of interest for you to see our ADA?”

“We disclosed things with, Cap. We figured all that out. It hasn’t affected either of us at work.” Her cheeks start to redden, and Harry’s eyes widen.

“And after work?”

“I’m sorry, Detective, but I’m afraid that’s diving a bit too deeply into my personal life.”

“Ah.” He nods. “That bad, huh?”

“What?” She laughs.

“If he was any good at fucking you, you’d tell me about it.” He leans his bum against the desk, standing closer to her. “What’s wrong, he can’t make you come?”

“The opposite, actually.” She turns, getting right in his face. “It’s the best I’ve ever had. In fact,” she looks around to make sure no one else is listening, “I’ve recently found out that I can squirt.” She watches as Harry’s eyes visibly darken, his pupils turning into saucers. His jaw clenches and he stands up straight. “Welcome back, partner.”

Flash forward two years later. Harry’s divorced, but still occasionally fucks Kathleen when he’s desperate and just wants something familiar. It’s hard not to get riled up with emotions when he’s over spending time with his kids. Ronnie’s been seeing Mark the entire time. He’s asked her to move in a dozen times at this point, but she always comes up with an excuse as to why she can’t.

Harry and Ronnie are currently sitting in Cap’s office. They think they’re in trouble. For what, they’re not sure, but it’s usually not good when they both get called in for a chat.

“I have an important assignment for the two of you. It’s going to involve being undercover for a bit.” Cap explains.

“Alright, what’s going on?” Harry asks.

“We’ve had a string of strippers getting murdered. They all work at the same club. Narcotics tipped me off. They’ve been working the case because the perp running the entire operation is the one giving the command on which girls are getting tossed. It happens infrequently enough that it hasn’t raised a ton of eyebrows.”

“Is that why we’re just hearing about this now?” Ronnie asks.

“Homicide was taking care of the murders. We’ve only recently found out that the girls that aren’t being tossed in the trash, are being prostituted out and raped. There’s an open position at the club. Ronnie, I need you to go undercover as a dancer. Start off as a bottle girl, but I need you to get into that dressing room and get whatever information you can. Harry, I need you to be her handler.”

“So I have to take my clothes off, and he gets to be my pimp?” Ronnie scoffs.

“I know it’s not the most appealing thing for you, but you’re the only female detective we have that could actually pass as an erotic dancer.”

“Gee thanks.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ll do it, but I’m keeping whatever lingerie I have to buy.”

“Deal.” Cap looks at Harry next. “What do you say?”

“I’ll do it. I don’t trust anyone else to work this with Ronnie. I think Miller’s head would explode if he saw her dressed provocatively.”

“Stop it.” She shakes her head. “When do we start?”

“Immediately.” He hands them each a folder. “That has the information on where you’ll be staying, your new ID’s-“

“We have to stay in the same apartment together?” Ronnie asks.

“Once Harry gets in good with these people, they may come around to check for bugs and wires. It has to look like you both live together.”

“Captain, respectfully, Harry is a slob. I can’t live with him in a…oh my god, this is for a fucking studio?”

“That’s what they gave me funding for, Walsh. I’m sorry it’s not ideal.” Cap says facetiously.

“Is there at least a couch for him to sleep on?”

“Why do I have to sleep on the couch?” Harry scoffs.

“Because you’re not going to be the one sliding up and down a greasy pole every night.”

“Fair.”

“Enough. Go take some time to get familiar with your new identities, and go shop for whatever you may need to make it look convincing. You’ll be staying at your new apartment tonight. Have fun, and try not to kill each other.” He looks at them. “Or…anything else.”

They both roll their eyes at that, and leave the office. Ronnie takes out her phone and calls Mark to let him know what��s going on. He’s up in the squad room ten minutes later.

“How long will you be gone for?” He asks her by her locker.

“I don’t know, it could be weeks…months.”

“Months?”

“These things either happen fast, or they’re really slow. You know that.” She closes her locker and looks up at him. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t the best thing happening right now. But at least we’re not living together, you won’t miss me too much.”

“Don’t use this as an excuse.” He sighs. “Are you at least being given a burner phone so we can still have contact?”

“Yes, but I have to use it carefully. If our place gets bugged or something, it could mean game over. I feel bad for Harry. He barely sees his kids as it is. This is going to be really tough for him.”

“Yeah, Romeo.” Harry says as he opens his own locker. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of our girl.”

“Can you give us a minute, Styles? We’re talking.”

“Mmm, no.” He grins and leans back against the lockers. “No, I think I’ll continue eavesdropping. Kathleen’s bringing the kids by so I can see them before we go, so I’ve got time.”

“Harry.” Ronnie looks up at him with her big brown eyes, and he all but melts.

“Fine, I’ll leave you alone. Oh, when we go to the store to get all your stripper accessories, should we get you some sex toys?”

“Christ, Harry.” She shoves him away, making him laugh.

“Does he always have to be so crude with you?” Mark asks her. “This is the sex crimes division for fuck sake.”

“We do it to each other, it’s just how we work. If we don’t find reasons to laugh, we’d cry.”

“So, we can’t even go be alone for a bit?” He steps closer to her, making her blush.

“I want to…” She looks over her shoulder at the bunk room, then back to her boyfriend. “I should really start briefing myself on this case. I want to check the homicide detective’s notes, see what we’re really dealing with. I’m sorry, Mark. I know…I know this is what makes our relationship difficult.”

“It’s alright, I understand.” He leans in and kisses her, then pecks her forehead. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

While Ronnie is on the computer looking over everything, Harry is talking with Kathleen and the kids. Ronnie can’t believe Katie’s already five, and that Eddie’s already two.

“How long will you be gone for, Daddy?” Katie asks him. She’s got her arms around his neck, her bottom being supported by his hip while Eddie is on his other hip. Ronnie looks away before she has time to fantasize about how strong her partner is.

“Well, Daddy’s not sure. I’m going on a top secret mission, so Daddy won’t be able to see you for a while, but I’ll do my best to call when I can.”

“What about on FaceTime?” Katie looks up at him, pouting.

“We won’t be able to do that, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

“But…but I’m gonna miss you.” Her bottom lip starts to quiver. Harry looks at Kathleen. She takes Eddie from him so he can properly hug his daughter, biting back tears of his own.

“I’m going to miss you too, so much. You have no idea.”

“Why…why do you like being with Ronnie more than Mommy?”

“Katie.” Kathleen says. “Now’s not the time for that.”

“Sweetheart, it’s not that I…Ronnie and I work together, that’s all. She’s going on the secret mission with me. We keep each other safe. And while I’m gone, Mommy will keep you and Eddie safe, alright?”

“Will you miss Mommy too?”

Harry and Kathleen look at each other, and her face flushes from the coy smirk forming on Harry’s face. “Of course I will. I’ll miss you, Eddie, and Mommy very much. I’ll check in when I can, okay? I need you to be a brave, big girl and help Mommy a little more. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s my girl.” He hugs her and gives her a kiss before setting her down. He takes Eddie back and tosses him into the air, making him laugh. “Alright, little man. Need you to be a big boy.” Harry takes Eddie’s thumb out of his mouth.

“Okay.” Eddie says with his precious, soft spoken toddler voice.

“I love you.”

“Wove you too, Daddy.”

Harry smiles at his boy and sets him down. He tells Katie he loves her as well, then looks at Kathleen.

“I know you don’t need me to tell you this, but be careful.” She says to him.

“I like it when you tell me to be careful. It helps having your voice in my head.”

“Come back in one piece.” Her voice cracks as she throws her arms around his neck. He holds her close.

“Don’t cry, it’s going to be alright. I’ve gone undercover before.” He coos into her hair.

“Not like this.” She pulls back from him and pecks his lips before fully letting go. “Check in when you can, like you said.”

“I will. I love you, you know that, right?”

“Yes, and I love you too.” She picks up Eddie and sighs. She and Ronnie make eye contact, but neither of them say anything to the other. There’s nothing to say.

Harry walks around the store while Ronnie picks out clothes to buy. It’s all miniskirts and tight dresses. Then she goes to the lingerie section, and he joins her.

“Would you ever wear any of this stuff for real?” He asks her as he picks up a pair of crotchless panties. “It can’t be comfortable.”

“It’s not. This is stuff you put on when you tell a guy you’re going to slip into something more comfortable.”

“But you just said it’s not comfortable.”

“It’s not, but it’s also not going to stay on for very long.” She grabs a few bras and throws them in her cart. “I have to buy makeup too.”

“Don’t you already own makeup?”

“Yes, but I mostly wear neutral colors, nothing too heavy. I need to get some pallets with more vibrant colors. I need to get fake lashes. Oh! I’m going to need some highlighter.”

“Jesus, this is going to be never ending. I hope Katie’s a tomboy so she doesn’t have to deal with all this.”

“How’s that working out so far?”

“Not great, she’s all about princesses and Barbies right now. It’s actually pretty cute, and she has a wild imagination. I always have fun when we play with her dolls.”

“You play Barbie with her?” Ronnie pouts up at him endearingly.

“Course I do.” He shrugs. “It’s important to spend time doing the things your kid likes to do, rather than dragging them out to do something you want to do. As she gets older, she won’t feel like it’s a chore to hang out with me because she’ll know I’m up for whatever she wants to do. Within reason. I don’t want her thinking I’m going to take her to get a tattoo before she’s eighteen.”

“You’re a really good dad.”

“Thanks. I hope she and Eddie feel the same way.”

“They do, they have to. You’re doing the best you can.”

“Right. Let’s keep shopping. I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.”

The two get all the things they need, and head to their new home for the seeable future. It’s a nice place, but it’s going to be hard for them both to stay in such a small space.

“So, who’s taking the bed for real?” He asks her later that night over takeout.

“I have a proposition.”

“I’m not sleeping foot to face.”

“That’s not what I was going to suggest. I was thinking we could just stick some pillows between us so we can both sleep on the bed.”

“Do we need a barrier at all? I’m not going to try to fuck you while you’re sleeping.”

“Well, obviously, or I’d say you’re in the wrong line of work.” She smirks. “I just want us both to be comfortable.”

“I won’t sleep if I feel like I need to be rigid.”

“Okay, so no pillows.”

“We’re both adults who have shared beds with people before. I think it’ll be fine.”

“What do you usually wear to bed?” She asks him.

“Boxers. What about you?”

“Oversized t-shirt.”

“Well, if anyone busts the door down we’ll at least look the part of a couple.” He takes another bite of food, then sets his container down. “You and Mark have a quickie earlier?”

“No.” She laughs. “We almost did, but I wanted to start briefing myself. I felt bad, but isn’t this more important?”

“You need to find that answer on your own. I’m clearly not the expert.”

“I think you just married someone that bit off more than they could chew. You’ve been in this line of work since you two were married. She knew how hard it was going to be.”

“It wasn’t like this when I was in vice. I had standard shifts, the same schedule for months on end. That worked for us. I don’t blame her…so you shouldn’t either.”

“Sorry.” She swallows down a noodle.

“Why won’t you move in with Mark? An attorney like him should have a great place, definitely one big enough for two people.”

“It’s big enough for more than two people, that’s the problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…he’s been dropping hints about wanting to really settle down together. He wants to have kids with me. I love him, I really do, but I don’t know if I’m the type of person that can handle all those things.”

“You’re great with kids.”

“I know that, but I’d never be around. I’d be working all the time. I’m just not ready for it.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Yes.” She sighs. “But neither of us necessarily wants to break up, so we have a fight once every few weeks, and then we move on.”

“Maybe the time apart will help you both gain perspective on what you really want from each other.”

“That’s sort of what I’m hoping for.” She takes a sip of water, then sighs. “So, what’s our backstory?”

“I’m your pimp.” He smirks.

“You’re my handler, not my pimp.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“No it’s not. A pimp pimps their girls out to have sex with other people. Handlers don’t do that.”

“It’s the same thing, but whatever.” He rolls his eyes. “How should we approach that, by the way?”

“Approach what?”

“You having sex. I don’t want you to get forced into something.”

“I’m supposed to start off as a bottle girl, then work my way up. So I should be fine. Once you get in good with the bosses, you can just tell them they can look, but they can’t touch. I’ll stay focused on getting information from the other girls, you stay focused on gaining the trust of the bosses.”

“Arthur Jones is the guy we’re looking to bring down. He’s the head of the entire operation.”

“We should go there in the late afternoon tomorrow when it’s not busy and see about me getting a job. Do you know which detectives from narcotics are already undercover there?”

“Yeah, Cap texted me who to look for. It’s another guy.”

“Okay, so none of the girls are under cover. Damn, it’s gonna take me some time to become friends with them.”

“Apparently, we have all the time in the world.”

The two clean up from dinner, then take turns washing up before bed. It’s a little awkward when they both slip under the covers, but they’re both able to fall asleep easily.

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gurugirl · 2 years ago

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). The Con Artist Masterlist

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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