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mtfstuff · 1 year

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The desired role

I never thought my life could change this drastically. Let me tell you that I once was a strong and fair cop but I lost all of that quickly without fully realizing what I did. It all started a few months ago on this fateful afternoon.

On that day I was on my patrol, driving around in my police cruiser looking for potential trouble as usual.

I had gotten a call from a young woman that it seems like a young man is selling himself for sex to other men in a more remote area of the town. I was driving around there to see if I could spit him and I could after a fee minutes of searching. I carefully parked the cruiser and tried to sneak up on them. They were in the back of an alley. I could see the young man wearing skin tight latex from neck to toes. He was getting fucked by an older man with a beer gut while another man demanded the young man to suck his dick. I came closer but one of the older man noticed me and started to run. I quickly started to run towards them, shouting at them to stand still. The second man pushed the young man towards me and started to run away too.

I catched the young man and could only watch as the two old men ran through a backdoor and closed it. I handcuffed the young man and then walked up to the backdoor, trying to pry it open but to no avail. The thick metal door didnt move a bit. I got back to the young man and looked at him thoroughly. His body from neck to toes was covered in latex, even his hands. The only places free of latex was his crotch area and a hole around his butt. His dick was locked away in a chastity cage. He seemed intimidated by me as he didnt even reach my shoulders.

"Are you even old enough to sell yourself in this 'business'?", I asked him starting to walk him towards the cruiser.

"Is this regarding my size? Yeah I know I look young with my 5' but I can assure you that I'm 26 years old.", he answered cowardly.

"Do you have any ID to back up that claim?"

"No. I lost everything around 4 months ago."

I pushed him into the backseat.

I got into the car on the drivers seat.

"Whats your name?", I asked opening the criminal justice information system.

"Jordan Blight.", he said. I could hear him starting to sob.

I entered his name into the computer and found multiple things about him. It started with him disappearing, followed by multiple offensive crimes.

I exhaled deeply. By the looks of it this guy would now go to prison even though I knew that from the way he looked he wouldnt survive a week there.

Jordan must've had a similar thought as he started crying.

"Please... I'll do anything. I just cant go to prison. Please!", he cried.

"Sorry man, but I cant help you.", I answered looking at him through the rearview mirror.

"Please...", he continued crying. "I'll do anything... do you need sexual relief? I'm supposedly good at it. Do you need someone to talk to? I'm a good listener."

I stayed silent. I felt somewhat pitty for him and his situation.

"Do you need someone to get drugs? I know some who have them.", he continued.

I looked at him concerned.

"Or do you want me as an insider? Or should I be your slave?"

I subconsciously moved an eyebrow and unfortunatly Jordan noticed it.

"What was it? The insider or the slave?", he asked with a grin.

I cleared my throat.

"How did you get in your situation? I mean I wouldnt choose to walk around in a latex suit covering everything but my head, dick and ass.", I asked.

"Changing the subject, I see.", he snickered. "I was drugged by some I considered friends. They stripped me, put me in this latex suit and cock cage. They also made sure that I dont get out by welding the zipper fully into the suit. They then brought me here, into a city I dont know to make me a sex slave. And they succeeded. I got addicted to sex and drugs over the last few months. It feels like I know more about the taste of dicks and cum than real food. It feels like I dont even remember how it feels to wear something else than latex."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I - I dont even know what to say.", I said.

"Say if it was the slave or the insider.", he laughed.

"Neither. Just a weird thought I sometimes have."

"Tell me about it."

I felt torn. He had the right appearance for my weird wish but he was just a stranger, even more a stranger I've just arrested. But I still had this feeling that I could tell him.

"Since I was in pre-school I was the tallest guy and even without working out I was pretty muscular.", I said. "And I dont know why as my family isnt tall at all. Since then I started to get this wish, to feel small. Even get somewhat humiliated."

It was a weird silence.

"I didnt see that coming.", Jordan said. "You, this hunk of a good looking man, wants to be humiliated. You want to be in my position?"

"Yeah, I do.", I said. "I just want to know how it feels."

"Well, I'd do anything to not go to prison but I dont know how much I could humiliate you."

He chuckled.

"I mean I'm 5' and you're like 6'3.", he added.

"6'5 to be precise.", I said. "I could have something that would change this situation. Only if you're down for it."

"I'd be doing it if it means that I wont go to prison, so yeah. Tell me, what is it you have."

I moved around in my seat, fearing his reaction to what I would tell him.

"I have a body swap item with me.", I told him.

He bursted out into laughs. It was almost contagious. Almost.

He slowly caught himself again.

"You cant be serious!", he looked at me. "Oh shit, you're serious."

"I dont know if it works but it could be your way out of prison if you do it with me for a short time. Its said to be reversible so we'd swap back after that session of ours.", I said.

He thought about it for a moment.

"Sure, why not. I always wondered how it felt to have a body as incredible as yours."

"Then its a deal.", I started the engine and drove us to an even more remote area of the city.

When we arrived I turned off the cruiser and got out. I opened the trunk of the cruiser and took a strange needle out of it. I closed it and opened Jordan's door. I pulled him out and pushed him into an abandoned alleyway.

I unlocked his handcuffs and he rubbed his wrists.

"So how does this work?", Jordan asked.

"We have to prick a finger each with this.", I held the needle in front of him. "Then the pricked tips have to touch and then we swap or transform into each other. That wasnt fully clear."

"Then lets do it.", he answered.

I took one of his fingers and pricked the tip. He let out a slight gasp. Then I pricked my finger and held it up. He pressed his finger against mine and I immediately felt a weird sensation, as if a force was pulling my whole body from my finger.

Jordan musst have felt it himself as he pulled his hand away. I looked at him and noticed that he started to grow, not just in height but also in terms of muscles. His latex suit got pulled thinner and thinner before it finally ripped in multiple places. The scraps of latex fell to the ground, revealing Jordans new muscular body that was still growing. I could immediately see that his muscles looked like mine. Jordan marveled at his new body, already smelling his armpits or feeling his abs. I looked down at his dick to see if it was growing too and it did. It was already straining against the cage before the cage sprung open and fell to the ground. Jordan's dick was the spitting image of mine and it was rock hard.

Jordan was almost the same height as me now and only his face looked different. A beard stubble was starting to grow on his cheeks as his bone structure started to morph into mine. His hair grew shorter and his eye color changed. It took only a few seconds and it was as if I was looking into a mirror. A naked mirror.

"This is incredible!", Jordan said feeling his biceps. "We could be twins right now! But shouldnt you look like me?"

"Yeah, I thought I would transform too but until now I only have this strange feeling.", right then the feeling changed and I started to shrink. While shrinking my uniform felt heavier and the gun holster looser every second and suddenly my pants, including my boxers, fell to the ground. My jacket and vest were huge on me, my hands didnt even stick out of the sleeve anymore and my dick was hidden behind the vest but I could feel how hard it was. It was almost painful.

I looked at Jordan and he had a huge grin on his face.

"Your manly face on my body wearing a uniform thats to big for you is just a funny sight to behold.", he said not letting go of his new muscles.

I started to feel my face change. The receding beard as well as the quickly growing hair tickled. With a faint plop I could hear my bones change and then the feeling vanished.

"Looks like I'm the officer now.", Jordan said.

He grabbed me by the throat and lifted me up. I could feel my socks and boots slip off my feet before I felt the cold ground beneath my butt. Jordan had dropped me.

"Man this strength is crazy!", he exclaimed.

I coughed a few times, trying to get my throat to feel normal again.

Jordan grabbed my arms and quickly pulled the rest of the uniform off of my body. I was now sitting on the cold floor completely naked.

Jordan dropped the vest, jacket and undershirt. I could hear him breathing heavily.

"I havent worn real clothes for months.", I could hear him say to himself.

He picked up my boxers from my pants and looked at them in his hands. He quickly smelled them and let out a quiet moan before carefully slipping his legs through them. He pulled them up to his hips and took his time to position his new big dick in a comfortable place.

It looked like Jordan quickly forgot about me because of the uniform.

He continued by pulling my socks out of my boots before pulling them over his feet and muscular calves. He wiggled his toes and giggled.

He grabbed the undershirt and pulled it over his broad chest. I marveled at how great it fit him. I now saw that I truly knew how to show off my body.

He removed the gun holster from the belt before stepping into the pants. He closed the belt and added the holster back.

He grabbed the jacket and quickly put it on before adding the vest onto his torso.

The last thing left were the boots. He seemed to almost celebrate this. He grabbed them and slowly unlaced them. He relished stepping into them, I could see it. He tied them again and took a few steps.

"This feels so good. Wearing real clothes, a uniform even. And then wearing shoes again. No more barefoot in latex.", he said.

Standing before me really was the spitting image of me, officer Stephen Benson. An officer with a bright future, thinking about how he could do anything as me now made my dick even harder.

"What are you going to do with me, officer?", I asked trying to get his attention.

He helped me up before pushing me face first against the wall.

"You can be more than lucky I got my uniform back. Impersonating an officer is a serious crime!", he said.

I felt him rubbing his crotch against my back.

"That was all just a big misunderstanding sir!", I answered.

I suddenly felt how he put the handcuffs around my wrists on my back.

"Misunderstanding or not, you're going to jail.", he said.

I got nervous, was he just roleplaying or taking over my life. I wanted to be submissive but I didnt want to go to jail. The thought of him taking over made me even harder. My dick was pressing so hard against the dirty brick wall.

"You're lucky as I'm in need of sexual relief.", he turned me around to face him. "And you may not go to jail if you go down and do a thing for me."

Jordan had a devilish grin on my old face. I went down and he immediately pushed my face into my old crotch. I could smell the fabric as well as the stench of my old sweat. But most of all I could feel the outline of the beast inside the pants that was once mine.

He continued pressing my face into his crotch.

"Worship me. Worship my muscles and uniform!", he said.

I couldnt answer because my face was pushed so hard against his crotch but I managed to move my hands behind my back to get his attention there.

He bent himself over me to unlock one side of the handcuffs again.

I immediately moved my hands to his firm butt and squeezed it. My hands slowly ran down his legs, feeling the muscles beneath the fabric every time he flexed his legs. I knew that it should be wrong, worshipping your real body but it just felt so good.

My hands went down further, now slightly massaging his calves before I ran my hands over my combat boots he now wore. Touching the leather felt surprisingly good so I kept working on his feet. That combined with inhaling the musk of my old crotch and uniform felt intoxicating.

"Take it out and suck it!", I heard Jordan order with my old deep voice.

It sent chills down my spine knowing that I sounded like that before but now I wasnt in control of it or any other part of that body.

I opened the belt and pants and pulled out his dick. It was more than massive from my point of view and it was already throbbing and leaking pre-cum.

I opened my mouth and Jordan saw that as his opportunity to push the full 8 inches down my throat. I thought that I would have to throw up but this body had like no gag reflex anymore. I continued sucking on my old dick while Jordan controlled my speed by having his hands behind my head.

It felt weird and at first I didnt knew what to do but it only took a few seconds before the muscle memory kicked in and I started sucking like a pro. I could feel the veins pulsate in sync with Jordan's heartbeat. I used my tongue to play with it and I heard Jordan moan every now and then.

He suddenly grabbed my head more tightly before I felt his dick erupting in my mouth. I immediately started to swallow and tasted cum for the first time. The salty but still somewhat sweet taste was weird at first but it felt more normal with every string Jordan shot into my mouth.

"Dont spill.", he said panting.

I swallowed everything before he pulled me to my feet again. He turned me around again and I could immediately feel him running his dick along my ass. He pushed it in without warning but it didnt hurt at all.

"Damn, my hole was loose.", Jordan said. "I have more to give to you."

He pounded me hard but it still turned me on more. Knowing that the roles would be reversed in reality. I should be the muscular officer and Jordan should be this twink but right now I was living my phantasy.

His thrusts changed pace and I could feel how he prepared to unleash another load into me. He pushed me tight against the wall, his hands on my hips as I felt him shooting his warm and slimy masculine seed up my ass.

He pulled out and I felt him wiping off his dick on my butt cheeks.

I was covered in sweat but it felt great to have been used like this and I bet Jordan loved being a muscular officer too.

I was awaiting that he would unlock the handcuffs again so that we could swap back but he suddenly grabbed me with full force by my neck and threw me to the ground.

"You let something drip out of your ass!", he said firmly pointing at his feet. "Go on and clean my awesome combat boots."

I got on my knees and licked the cum off of my old boot. It tasted just like before, only that it had now dirt mixed into it. I was almost done licking as I felt a few finger intrude my butt. Jordan pulled them out again and tasted it.

"Damn man, this body tastes good.", he said.

Suddenly we both looked intensely at each other knowing exactly what caused it. It felt like a damn broke in our minds. My mind got flooded with the memories of Jordan and he probably got access to my memories.

"This- this changes everything!", he said.

He pulled me up.

I cleared my throat to sound manlier.

"Are you ready to change back? There are spare clothes in the trunk of the cruiser you can wear after that.", I said.

"No man.", he said.

"What do you mean, no?"

He pushed me against the wall again.

"You wanted to be me. You wanted to be humiliated and I agreed to escape prison.", he flashed me a quick smile. "But I'm the man now. I have the muscles. I wear the uniform. We'll do this my way now."

"But- but you cant just be a cop and do my job. I cant stay like this."

"You enjoyed being like this."

He gestured to my small, hard and slightly leaking dick.

"And I more than enjoyed being you.", he continued. "You have two options now, 'Jordan'. Keep complaining about swapping back and I'll send you to prison. Or get into the car and be me."

I stared at him in shock.

"It's Thursday, right?", he asked.

"Yes."

"Then lets make a deal. We stay like this till Sunday. If you then still want to swap back we'll do it. If you want us to stay like this we'll stay."

"Deal!"

He grabbed my balls tightly and I let out a loud, uncontrolled moan. He laughed.

"Good. I still have to be on my patrol for 2 more hours. So I'll leave you here. You wanted to be humiliated so you have to make a choice. Stay here until I come back to get you or look around searching for clothes. But if you do, time is running. I wont wait here for you when I'm finshed.", he said.

He laughed again and walked to the cruiser. He stepped into the driver seat, started the engine and left.

Only then I noticed that Jordan managed to place his old chastity cage on my dick.

I didnt fully understand how it got this far but I felt good. The humiliation was everything I always wanted but I still felt the urge to get my body back. I was excited to see what the last few days would bring.

#body switch #male body switch #body swap #male body swap #male body transformation #male transformation

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 2 months

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Never Say Never

Chapter 18

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 7K

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Steve stood frozen as he took in the tears running down your cheeks, your knees sunk into the grass, your hand pressed next to the name carved into the stone.

Justin Keith Randall

Beloved Son, Husband, and Father

1963-1994

What in the hell was he doing? He’d intruded on your conversation with your dead husband. He’d cut right into what was obviously an emotional moment for you. He’d shattered this very private heartbreak for you, coming in like a baseball bat colliding with a window. Had he really thought that following you to the cemetery was a good idea?

“Steve? What…what are you doing here?” you asked, your brows meeting in the middle in confusion.

Good question. What was he doing here? After his chat with Nancy, he’d been so desperate to talk to you, to make things right, to apologize for being the jerk who’d walked away from you at the hospital and then hadn’t even bothered to check on you. When you weren't home and Lucas told him where you'd gone, he hadn’t even stopped to think through what he was about to do. Hadn’t even considered why following you there was a bad idea. He hadn’t even contemplated why you might be in a cemetery, whose grave you might be visiting. He’d just gotten in his car.

“I wanted to talk to you. I mean…” He gritted his teeth, hands coming to his hips, wincing at his own stupidity. Now he had to backpedal, get himself out of this, not appear to be the heartless jerk who hadn’t considered your feelings again. “I showed up at your house first but you weren’t there. Max was out with Eli practicing the skateboard and Lucas told me they were watching him because you’d gone to the cemetery. And so I came here…to talk to you…but now I’m thinking that was a really stupid idea. Obviously, this is not the place or the time. Clearly you wouldn’t want me to be here. I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry. Jesus, I’ll just…”

He turned to go but your voice, quavering and soft, saying his name, stopped him. You rose to your feet as he turned back to you, brushing your knees off of the dirt and grass that was clinging to your jeans.

Pushing your hair back off your shoulders, you faced him, and even in this state, broken and grieving, you were beautiful. The red, swollen eyes, the grass stained knees, the sadness etched into every facet of your face did not take away from how absolutely stunning this woman was. It took every ounce of self control he had not to pull you into his arms, to hold you until he could take all of that hurt away.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. I should have known…when Lucas said you were at the cemetery…obviously you were here to see your husband. I feel like such a dick right now. I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.”

“No. No. It’s okay,” you insisted, shaking your head.

Your arms wrapped around your stomach, that familiar gesture he’d seen both you and Eli use, as if you could hold all your broken parts in, as if you could keep them from spilling out into a messy pile on the floor. It gutted him to know you'd both known such devastation that you'd had to learn to compartmentalize it. You looked so fragile, as if the smallest pressure would shatter you, and he couldn’t stop himself this time. Steve stepped into you, not touching, terrified you would rebuff him, but feeling the ache in his chest ease a bit at just being close enough to do so if you wanted that.

“Are you alright?” he asked, worried that he was the cause of your tears and sadness. Had he ruined any shot he had with you? What kind of guy just disappeared on the girl he loved for four days after she’d been in the hospital? What kind of guy disappeared on the girl he loved for four days, period? What kind of guy didn’t even call to check in on you, knowing the struggles you dealt with on a daily basis?

Those pretty pink lips pressed together as you nodded, “Yeah. I’m alright. I was actually going to try to come talk to you when I was done here so I guess you saved me the ride.”

“Oh. You were?” Did that mean you'd been planning to come to fix things or end things? He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer but it was too late now. He would find out where he stood one way or the other.

“Yeah. Steve, I’m so sorry,” you cried, the tears falling from your eyes once again and all he wanted to do was stop them. He couldn’t bear to watch you shed another tear because of him.

“No, no…I’m the one who should be sorry.” His hands wrapped around your arms, giving in to the gnawing need to feel you, leaning down to catch your gaze. “I was such a jerk, honey, and I am so sorry. I just…I got scared. I got scared because I thought you didn’t want me. I thought you didn’t see a future with me.”

That little furrow appeared between your eyebrows again. “But I told you I did. I said forever. I used those exact words.”

“I know you did but when you had an attack after I talked about moving in together…well, I thought maybe you were rethinking everything. Maybe you weren’t seeing a future with me. Maybe being slapped in the face with the reality of what that meant, you didn’t want it anymore. I thought maybe you were going to end things and I…I was a coward. I didn’t want to give you the chance to do it so I didn’t give it to you. And I felt like I was the reason you wound up in the hospital in the first place. I swore I wouldn’t push you to do anything you weren’t ready for but there I was, pushing, just like I always do, and I didn’t want to cause you to have another attack. I don’t know. My brain was in a million places at once and I just took the coward’s way out and avoided you. Hell, I even sent Nancy to pick up Jeremiah so I wouldn’t run into you at the school.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

Steve’s arms pulled back, fingers running through his hair in agitation. This conversation was not going at all the way he’d planned. He’d thought it all out in the car, all the things he wanted to say to you, how to get you to understand. But now, standing in front of you, none of it was going the way he’d planned. His words were coming out a jumbled mess as his nerves took over, his fear that this wouldn’t work and you would simply walk away from him.

“Look…I have never felt like this before, okay? I’m thirty-two years old. I’ve dated a lot of women in my life.”

“Thanks for that reminder,” you muttered, crossing your arms, kicking the grass with the toe of your shoe, your eyes downward.

“No. That’s not…my point is, I’ve never had a woman make me feel the way I do when I’m with you. I wish I could explain it but I don’t even have words for it. You make me crazy, but like, in the best way possible. You make me want to be the best version of myself. It’s something I’ve been working on for a long time but I’ve never wanted to work harder than I do for you. You’re everything and when you…when the thought of us living together caused you to have anxiety, I was afraid that I was about to lose everything I’ve wanted my whole life. And I was afraid because I thought I had caused it. King Steve royally fucking everything up again because I got too attached too fast. And I know I do that. I know I do but this isn’t like that. I’m not too attached or pushing or wanting to be close to you because of my fucked up childhood. It’s because with you I see everything I want. With you I see the future I want and I just want to start it as soon as possible. I don’t want to miss out on any time with you because I love you. I am completely in love with you and it scares the shit out of me because I don’t really think I’ve ever really been in love before you.”

Your eyes were wide, soaking him in, your mouth parted as if the words were there but just not coming out. You looked back at the headstone behind you and then at him, a subtle reminder that you had been in love before. You had your great love and his hands trembled at the thought that you might not have any more room for another one.

“Steve, you didn’t cause anything. None of it was your fault. I wasn’t…my anxiety sometimes has no rhyme or reason. I hate it. I hate that even a serious conversation could mean me having a complete meltdown. I don’t want you to be scared to talk to me about stuff. I hate that when you mentioned us moving in together it sent me to the hospital. I hate that it caused you to avoid me. It’s so damn frustrating and I wish I could handle things like other people do.”

“No. It’s okay. You just said that you hadn’t had attacks that bad for a long time. Well, until you met me. And I assumed that maybe I was doing something wrong. Maybe I was causing you stress.”

“You do but not like you think you do,” you groaned, your hands flying through the air before covering your face. “I wish I could give you one solid reason for why it happens but I can’t. The oddest things can bring it on. And it’s not everything. Sometimes I’m fine but sometimes I’m not and I don’t know. You asked about staying over and all your reasons made sense but it’s something that worries me because of Eli…”

“Hey, hey.” Steve stepped into you, his hands cradling your face. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. I won’t bring any of it up again. I won’t push. You tell me when you’re ready. You can make all of the decisions going forward.”

“No Steve,” you sighed, your hands wrapping around his forearms and his heart sunk. Here it came. This was the moment where you told him no, you didn’t want this, didn’t want him. This was the moment you told him it was over, leaving him broken like the box of old toys in the garage. “I don’t want to make all of the decisions. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t share how you feel or ask me questions.” You gently pulled his hands away from your face, stepping to the side, pressing your fingers against your forehead.

“I just want to do what you need, honey. I don’t want to ever cause you anxiety.”

“But that’s just it. You will. You will cause me anxiety, Steve,” you huffed, tossing your hands in the air in frustration. “There’s no way of avoiding that in a relationship.”

“I can try. I mean, I know you probably came here to talk to Justin because I made you feel awful. You probably needed to feel close to the guy who didn’t do that to you and I get it. I just disappeared and I’m a shit for it. I should have talked to you, checked on you. I’m a shit for pushing you into something you’re not ready for. I’m a…”

“Steve! Stop,” you pleaded, your hands held in front of you before covering your eyes. Dropping them to your sides, you looked skyward and inhaled, releasing it slowly before looking at him. “Please. Just stop and listen. I didn’t come here to talk to Justin because you were a shit. I didn’t come here because he never made me awful. Christ, Steve, of course he did and I did it to him. We’re human. Humans tend to do that to each other from time to time. I didn’t come for any of those reasons. I came to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” he asked, wondering how you could say goodbye to someone who’d already been gone for two years. Hadn’t you already done that? But he didn’t voice it, not wanting to be insensitive to whatever reason had brought you to your husband’s grave.

“Yes. I had a long talk with Janice at the hospital while you were downstairs, before you even came up. She helped me realize some things, to see things that I was doing without even knowing I was doing them. And then I called my therapist on Monday and she squeezed me in because of the severity of my attack.”

“That’s…I mean, that’s good, right?”

“Yeah. It was. We talked about a lot of stuff, stuff I didn’t realize I was doing. Losing Justin was the worst thing that has ever happened to me. It completely destroyed me. It felt like the floor had been ripped out beneath me and I was just swallowed into this dark pit of anger and despair. I never thought I would claw my way out of it. The attacks started soon after that. They would come on for no reason…or at least that’s what it seemed like. My therapist helped me see that they came on when anything reminding me of Justin popped up. It would be the smallest things. The neighbors would have pizza delivered, his favorite food, and I would be curled into a ball on the floor. I would catch a whiff of the cologne he used and I would be hyperventilating in the middle of the store. Our song would play on the radio and I would have to pull over because I thought I was having a heart attack. Once we realized why it was happening, she started to give me tools to help in the moments when it did. She started me on meds. After a year, I thought I was doing okay. I thought I was letting it all go and moving forward with my life.”

“You are doing okay,” Steve assured you. “You’re doing amazing. I am in constant awe of your strength and perseverance. You went through something devastating, something that would have shattered someone else, and you’re still standing.”

“I am. And I am not going to dismiss that fact. I’m really proud of how far I’ve come. Eli is the one thing that really kept me upright because I knew I had to be his mom. I had to be there for him even when I couldn’t be there for myself. But what I didn’t realize was that I hadn’t really let go. I was still holding onto Justin because…because I was scared that if I didn’t, that I was saying that what we had meant nothing. And it meant something. It meant everything. I didn’t want to just forget him. I didn’t want to just move on. I felt like he deserved so much more than that but in doing that, I wasn’t allowing myself to live.”

You lifted your left hand, turning it to face him, a pale line where your wedding ring used to be. Steve had noticed that you still wore it. Of course he had. How wouldn’t he notice that the woman he was falling for was wearing another guy’s ring? But the circumstances were complicated. You weren't wearing some guy’s ring that you'd left, that was still out there on the fringes, a threat looming that he could just swoop back in and you'd be gone. You were wearing a ring of a man you'd loved and had taken from you, a man who wouldn’t have left, wouldn’t have walked away. How could he say anything? So he hadn’t. He’d never shared that it bothered him a bit every time that glint of gold and gems caught his eye.

“I was still wearing my ring. It never even occurred to me to take it off, not even after we started dating and I knew it was something serious. I think because I still felt like I was married. I didn’t choose this. He didn’t choose this. We didn’t sign papers and hire lawyers and decide to part ways. It was forced upon us. I think the anxiety attack came on because next week is going to be the two year anniversary of when we lost him. And I…I don’t know if forgot is the right word but it wasn’t in the forefront of my mind like it was last year. My therapist…well, and Janice,” you snorted, rolling your eyes, “think my subconscious, that guilt I’ve never really let go of, took over in that moment because you make me so happy. And you making me happy makes me feel guilty because I feel like I am somehow betraying him. And I know that’s silly. He’s not here. I’m not cheating. I’m not doing anything wrong. But there’s also Eli and I am so scared for him to get his little heart broken again. He already loves you so much and he wants you to be his dad so much and I don’t think he could handle losing another one.”

Steve’s synapses were firing with your confession of everything that had been tormenting you since all of this began. It was a lot to take in and he was struggling to focus on more than just the part where you said you were happy, the part where you were considering him to be a potential father figure to your son. Because that part let him know that you weren't walking away, that you were as deeply entrenched in this as he was. He searched for the right words, feeling like it had never been more important to get this right, to say the right thing.

“Honey, I understand all of that. But I have to believe that your husband, knowing you and how amazing you are, and knowing the little bit that you’ve told me about him, would want you to be happy. And as for Eli, I have no intentions of going anywhere. I want this. I’ve told you. I am completely in.”

“I know that. I know you are. And so am I. I wanted to stay the night with you, Steve. I want to spend every night with you. I wasn’t even looking for anything when you came along. I’d gone on a few bad dates with guys from a dating site only because Janice pushed me to, and I wanted to get her off my back, but I wasn’t really looking. I’d resigned myself to being alone because I never thought I would find something like I had with Justin again. But then here you came and you made me question everything. You made me question if I was ready. You made me question my belief that no person can get lucky enough to find happily ever after twice. You made my son so happy. You made me so happy. You made me smile again. You made me laugh again. You made me feel alive again and I mean…how is that not worth the risk? I want to be with you, Steve. I want it all with you. I want to spend my nights and my mornings with you. I want to move in together someday. I want to be a family with our boys together. And yeah, you’re right. It is soon but we’re not fifteen year old kids who are blinded by our hormones. I know it’s you that I want in my life. In such a short time, it just feels right. It just feels like it’s the way it’s supposed to be. You make so much sense. You just fit in my life. But if that’s all too much for you right now, I understand. I know you don’t want your space invaded. I understand if you need some distance to breathe in this relationship but I just needed you to know how I feel. Because I don’t want you to ever have to doubt it again.”

“But…I didn’t mean any of that shit.”

“What?”

“Honey, I want you to invade my space, all of my space. Go ahead and take it all up. I only said that because I thought it’s what you wanted. I thought you were freaking out that I’d even mentioned you spending the night with me, let alone moving in together. I panicked and I said it and it was stupid but I never meant it.”

“You…you didn’t?”

You sounded so hopeful and it just made him want to flog himself. These last four days could have been avoided if he hadn’t been such a dingus, as Robin liked to call him. If he’d hung around just long enough for you to explain then neither of you would have had to go through all this uncertainty. What was Nancy always telling him? Communication was key. Obviously, because this miscommunication had almost cost him the best thing that had come into his life since Jeremiah.

“No. God no. I would lock you in my house and never let you go if I could.” He stepped into you, his arms wrapping around you, folding you against him, relishing the way you just melted into his embrace. His lips brushed against your forehead. “Honey, I love you. I don’t want distance. I don’t need to breathe.”

You laughed, “Actually, you kind of do.”

“Okay, yeah, I do, but being with you makes me feel like I can breathe. I want this too. I want it all. And we don’t have to rush anything. But maybe we could start with staying together tonight? Jeremiah’s already at your place. I left him with Lucas and Max so I could talk to you alone. We can talk to the boys first and see how they feel about it.”

You tilted your head back, smiling up at him, “Yeah. I think that sounds like a great idea.”

“Good.” His lips found yours, the moment they touched was a sigh of relief, his body relaxing into the kiss, having you right back where you belonged.

____________________________________________________________

Four weeks came and went in what felt like the blink of an eye. May had been there and gone, with so many activities to fill up the spaces on your calendar in the kitchen. From baseball games to the end of year picnic to field day, you felt like you'd barely turned the page on your calendar and you were already turning it again. Already you were in the middle of June and the boys were taking advantage of every moment of their summer break.

You and Steve had settled into a pleasant rhythm. The boys had been more than okay with the idea of sleeping at each other’s houses. They had been more than okay, giddy even, at the idea of you and Steve sleeping in the same bed. Those devious little grins shared between the two of them, marking their pride in their own role in the current situation. You were sure they were already plotting the next step, feeling this was just the beginning of everything they’d been working toward since that night at the ice rink.

On nights when Steve had Jeremiah, you stayed over at Steve’s house so Jere could have all of his things. On nights that he didn’t, Steve had been staying over at your place. You'd thought Eli may find it strange to have Steve there without Jeremiah but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He still had a playmate, just in adult form, as Steve would challenge him to video games and endless rounds of Uno, hours playing catch in the yard, and he loved helping Steve with anything around the house.

Every fear and uncertainty you'd had about moving forward, about getting your son’s hopes up, your own hopes up, had been completely unfounded. Because taking the next step, being a part of each other’s days and nights, had only made everything infinitely better. On the rare nights you didn’t spend together, you found yourself tossing and turning, reaching for the warmth of a body that wasn’t there.

It didn’t happen often but Steve had to travel a couple times for work. This new development was taking up a lot of his time and he’d had meetings with companies for supplies they needed that took him out of town. Last week he’d been gone for three days and you had been pacing the floor, anxious for him to appear on the doorstep, missing him more than you’d miss your own arm if it went missing. You pounced, almost knocking him to the ground as you leapt into his arms, the moment the front door opened, that familiar shape appearing in the doorway.

Now you were pacing around the house, anxious for an entirely different reason. You'd already cleaned the house from top to bottom, weeded the garden, done laundry, and no longer had anything to keep your nervous hands busy. Fluffing the pillow you’d already fluffed four times, your eyes looked up at the clock. Your parents were going to be arriving at any moment and they were going to be meeting Steve for the first time.

It really shouldn’t make you anxious. Your parents loved everybody. Justin had a far easier time with his in-laws than you’d had with yours. They’d adored him from the minute they’d laid eyes on him, probably before, because their version had always been as long as you were happy, they were happy. But your mom and dad, while they were two of the best parents anyone could ask for, could be a bit overwhelming when you didn’t know them. You just hoped Steve knew what he was in for.

A hand came up, wrapping around your arm gently, “Put the pillow down.”

You sighed, dropping it to the couch. That hand spun you, strong arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into a firm chest. All the tension oozed right out of you now that you were in your favorite place, your safe space. Steve pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, those hazel eyes twinkling amusedly.

“You have got to relax. This is going to be fine. I told you. Parents absolutely love me. I’m not worried so you shouldn’t be worried, okay?” His hands locked at the small of your back, a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. “The house looks great. I’ve got the spare ribs marinating in the fridge. The potatoes are baking in the oven. The boys are all showered and primped with strict instructions to stay inside until after the grandparents have seen how nice they look. You look amazing…” He growled playfully, head dipping into the curve of your neck, inhaling deeply. “You smell amazing.” A playful nip to your ear that had you squealing. “We’re totally ready.”

“I know. I know.” Your head fell back, a soft gasp escaping your lips as his mouth explored the column of your throat. “I just hope you’re ready for this. My parents…” Your fingers speared past the nape of his neck into his hair as those lips found their way between your breasts, exploring the skin your top didn’t conceal. “My parents will love you. They just love a little…aggressively.”

“Mmm…aggressive love can be fun, you know,” he murmured. You could feel the smile against your skin before his fingers pulled the v-neck of your top to the side and his teeth sunk into the curve of your breast that spilled out from the cup of your bra. His other hand cupped your ass, pressing you against his very obvious erection.

“Jesus Steve.” His tongue traced your bottom lip, heat pooling between your thighs, leaving you to wonder if you had time, if you could manage to hide from the boys. You could be quick. You could…the sound of the doorbell quickly dashed any hopes of that plan. “Shit. They’re here.”

Steve moved to the bottom of the stairs to call the boys down while you made your way to the door, adjusting your top. You opened it to instantly be swept up in a group hug, your dad on one side and your mom on the other, your head smashed between theirs. The sound of footsteps barreling down the stairs let you know the boys had arrived.

Your mom pulled back, eyes wide, grinning at the sight of the two kids standing in front of her. Opening her arms wide, she rushed at them both, pulling them into her sides as she exclaimed, “Oh, look at my beautiful boys!”

Steve’s eyebrows lifted toward you and you just shrugged back. But he didn’t have long to ponder your mother referring to his son as one of her boys before she was on him as well, enveloping him in a hug before taking his face in her hands.

“Oh my goodness. You are quite beautiful yourself, aren’t you? No wonder my girl is so smitten. Who wouldn’t be with that hair and those eyes and…would you look at those eyelashes! Frank, have you ever seen such long eyelashes before? Good lord. What I wouldn’t give for a set of eyelashes like that. You must have had all the girls swaying on their feet in high school. Bet you still do.”

“Now Sally, give the boy some space to breathe,” Frank grumbled, dropping their bags onto the floor. “You haven’t even introduced yourself and you’re already fawning over his eyelashes.”

He shared a knowing smile with you, neither of you surprised. Your mom had absolutely zero filter and no sense of personal space. The moment she met you, you were her best friend in the world. Your friends had all adored your mom when you were younger. Sally always felt like a friend instead of a parent, joining in the gossip, painting nails, taking you all shopping and to the movies.

“It…it’s nice to meet you Mrs. Madden,” Steve stammered and you couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. You had tried to warn him and he’d insisted it was fine. But your mom could be suffocating, a blanket of warmth and love that would smother you until you couldn’t find any air.

“Oh, none of that Mrs. nonsense,” she insisted, swatting at his arm. “You just call me mom. I mean…” She turned to you. “You are all a family now, aren’t you? So that makes you my family too. Oh, this is so exciting. I got another grandson and a son in one go.”

“I’m not your grandson, though.” Jeremiah’s statement wasn’t rude, just confused, wondering how this was all working.

“Well, you are now.” Sally walked over, dropping down to her knees in front of the boys. “I’m Eli’s grandma so now I’m your grandma too. I mean, if you’re okay with that, of course. You don’t have to call me grandma if you don’t want to. I know you already have a couple of those. You can just call me Sally if you’d prefer.”

Jeremiah looked at her and then at his dad. Steve smiled and that seemed to be the only confirmation he needed. With a shrug he said, “You can be my grandma too. I mean, most kids only get two but now I have three!”

Steve leaned down, his mouth at your ear as he whispered, “He means Joyce and Karen. He doesn’t really know my mom and honestly, that’s for the best.”

“Well, then I guess that makes me your Grandpa Frank,” your dad said, stepping forward, offering his hand to Jeremiah. The boy took it, shaking. “Wow. Strong grip there, kid, but that’s no surprise since my daughter’s told me what an amazing baseball player you are.”

Jeremiah beamed at you, “You told them I’m amazing?”

“Of course I did,” you replied with a smile. “Because you are. You and Eli both have done so well this season.”

“Yeah. We can’t wait to see you play on Saturday. Specially planned this trip just so we could catch a game,” Frank said.

“Well, why don’t you all head into the living room and relax? I’m gonna grab the ribs from the fridge and get them on the grill,” Steve announced.

“Well, I can help you out with that,” Frank offered, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know if my daughter told you, but I’m a master griller. Won the rib-off three years in a row.”

Steve’s eyes widened, “Really? She failed to mention that. I guess the pressure’s on then for my ribs to be good enough.”

“Oh, no pressure son. I just like grilling.”

“I’ll get the salad going and pop the macaroni and cheese into the oven,” you told them.

“Well, looks like we are not needed,” Sally smirked, one arm coming around each boy. “Now, tell me everything. I want to hear about school, baseball, girls.” When both boys ewwed, she laughed. “Oh, we’re not there yet, I see. Just give it some time.”

____________________________________________________________

Will and Nolan had not been exaggerating when they said they would pull out all the stops for your parents. Your pants were digging into your stomach uncomfortably after enjoying course after course of delicious dishes. They were all Nolan’s specialties but someone else was preparing them tonight as he and Will were sitting at the long table with everyone else.

This was your parent’s third night staying with you and it was not the first time they had met everyone that was currently sitting at this table. That had been yesterday at the baseball game when they’d been inundated with new faces. Luckily you had the kind of parents who were absolutely delighted, hugging every single person, excited to meet new people, wanting to know absolutely everything about their lives.

Janice had even taken the opportunity after the game, while they were all enjoying ice cream cones at the park, to announce her pregnancy to the whole clan. Nancy had squealed as if her own sister had just shared the good news. Robin had hopped on her feet while El beamed, exclaiming how she loved babies, much to Mike’s apparent unease and everyone else’s amusement.

“Oh Janice, we’re going to have to throw you the biggest shower,” Sally gushed and then winced. “Sorry. I’m probably overstepping. I am sure your own mom is handling everything, right?”

Your friend laughed, “Yeah. But she would love the help. My sister is driving her insane with all the phone calls and ideas. You know Krista, she just can’t help trying to run the show.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” snorted Steve, his eyes rolling pointedly toward Nancy.

“Oh, haha,” she snorted, rolling up her straw wrapper and tossing it at him. “There’s nothing wrong with being organized. Someone in this group has to be responsible.”

“I’m responsible!” Lucas protested. “I’m an accountant. I mean, how much more responsible can you get?”

“You still think it’s funny to make fart noises with your armpit,” Max pointed out, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “You’re basically a man-shaped child.”

“Oh, because it’s so adult to skateboard,” Lucas snapped back.

Eli straightened up in his chair, “I think skateboarding is cool.”

“That’s right.” Max nodded, putting out her fist for the kid to bump. “You tell him, Eli.”

Sally looked absolutely delighted at the chaos around her, grinning as her head turned this way and that, following each conversation as it happened. You knew your mom had always wanted a big family but that had been dashed when she suffered complications after having you. Complications that wouldn’t allow her to have anymore kids.

“And how long have you two been seeing each other?” your mom asked, turning to Robin and June, her chin resting in her palm, eyebrows bouncing with interest.

“Oh…us…it’s really new. Only forty-three days.”

Your lips pressed together, your hand grabbing onto your glass of wine and taking a drink so you didn’t comment on Robin knowing the exact number of days. You didn’t want to embarrass your friend but damn, girl must be really far gone if she was counting out exactly how many days. You were far gone too but you couldn’t have told them days. Weeks? Yes but not down to the days.

June smiled at Robin, a look full of so much adoration that it even warmed your heart watching it. Maybe they were both in deep. That thought made you happy because Robin deserved this and so did June. June’s hand covered Robin’s on top of the table.

“Aww, babe, you know how many days?” Robin flushed. “Best forty-three days of my life.” With a small laugh, she turned back to Sally. “Of course it took her friends asking me out for her. I was waiting, hoping that I wasn’t reading into things. I thought she might be interested but it was hard to tell when she wouldn’t even speak to me.”

“It was hard to speak to you! You’re so pretty,” Robin gushed. “You intimidated me. And to be fair, I didn’t know if you were into women. I mean, imagine if I would have asked you out and you wouldn’t have been. You would have been disgusted by me.”

“Oh please!” Sally exclaimed, her hands coming to her chest. “Do you know how flattered I would be if a woman hit on me? I mean, come on. Men will hit on anything with boobs. But if a woman hits on you, she genuinely thinks you’re attractive.”

“Do I need to be worried here, dear?” Frank teased, leaning in. Sally swatted him with her napkin, laughing.

“So, now I have three grandmas!” Jeremiah exclaimed from where he sat down the table between Eli and Dustin. “I mean, how cool is that? How many kids can say they have three grandmas?”

“That is pretty cool,” Dustin agreed. “I only have one.” He shrugged. “I mean, I have two but since I don’t know my dad, I don’t know that grandma. So she had to exist for me to be sitting here but…”

“Does that mean I have three grandmas, too?” interrupted Eli, his face turning to you.

Before you could answer, Karen leaned over the table, winking at him, “You are even luckier because you have four grandmas, kiddo. You have your Grandma Judith and your Grandma Sally. And now you have Grandma Karen and Grandma Joyce.”

“That’s right, kid,” Joyce agreed, tossing him a wink. “I’m afraid if you’re going to have Steve around, then we all come along with the package.”

“I hope you’re okay with having a Grandpa Hop, too,” Hopper added, raising his beer.

“So…so I have four grandmas and three grandpas!” Eli’s eyes were wide, a smile stretching from ear to ear. “That’s more than like any kid has ever had, ever!”

“Not to mention a bunch of aunts and uncles,” Lucas told him.

“Yeah, Eli. You just inherited a whole family,” Dustin said, gesturing around the very full table.

“Wow! That’s a lot of birthday presents!” Eli declared, causing a round of laughter from the table.

“Yeah, and we don’t play when it comes to presents,” Will stated.

Nolan snorted, “Seriously. Your Uncle Will has no self control when it comes to shopping. He would bankrupt us if I didn’t control him.”

Jeremiah’s face crinkled, his brow furrowing as he considered all the words being spoken at the table. He appeared to be in serious thought and then he looked down at you.

“So…so are you like my mom now, too? Do I have two moms?”

Your stomach clenched, your hand gripping the edge of the table as your eyes darted over to Nancy, hoping the woman was not offended by his question. You had never been trying to replace her, ever. Jeremiah had a mom and you were fine just being you to him. Besides, you and Steve weren’t even living together. You weren’t married. This was all just…you didn’t know what this was but it seemed a bit soon for this discussion. Even though the boys had talked about marriage, it felt different doing it in front of everyone.

Nancy smiled at her son, “If someday you would like to call her mom too, that’s okay with me. She’s going to be a big part of your life now.”

“But you don’t have to,” you assured him. “I can just be Y/N.”

“Yeah, like I’m just Jonathan,” his stepdad told him. “You don’t call me dad because Steve is your dad and that’s okay. You still love me, right?”

“Yeah. I do, a lot.”

“So…I just call you Steve?” asked Eli.

Steve looked at you for help but you had none to give. You weren't sure what to say or where this was going. This was really up to Steve and without you even living together, it seemed an insane question. But Eli was seven and he’d been wanting this for a while. It didn’t surprise you that he was asking. He’d been trying really hard to make Steve his dad for months.

“Well, you also have a dad,” Steve finally answered. “But if someday, you think you would like to call me dad, I would be honored, kid. Really, I would. Nothing would make me happier, Eli. But I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to. I can just be Steve too. It can be whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Damn honey, you snagged yourself a good one,” your mom whispered in your ear. “Don’t let that one go.”

“I don’t plan on it.”

Steve’s hand found your knee, squeezing gently and you laid your head on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you sat, content and happy, watching everyone you loved laugh and talk and eat together.

“I love you.” It was the softest whisper, caressing the shell of your ear.

A soft smile tilted the corners of your mouth, “I love you too.”

Yeah. This was happiness. This was love. This was your second chance at happily ever after, not just with Steve, but with every single person sitting around this table. They’d given you and your son a sense of belonging, a sense of peace, and a sense of safety. You were absolutely at peace with the idea of this being her forever.

Chapter 19

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gurugirl · 1 year

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The Con Artist | Part 4*

Summary: You're still stuck at the motel but things are getting very spicy between you and the detective. Maybe some feelings pop up.

A/n: detective!harry x criminal!reader I don't know if I'd call this a filler chapter but it's mostly just smut - however, some important things come up that are vital to moving their story along, I just didn't realize before writing it that it would take so many words to do it (I had planned this chapter differently than it came out, which was originally going to combine parts of what's coming in the next chapter, but this is the result and I hope you guys like it, sorry for the stall). This is part 4 of a series. The Con Artist Masterlist

13.3k words

Warning: Smut, some spanking (what? she's been naughty), unprotected sex (oops), the very tiniest bit of angst, admissions of things

◈ ◈ ◈

Harry kept his arms around you and his face in your neck for a bit as his breathing slowed and your body began to settle. It felt intimate. But Harry was trying to think of what he should do now that he’d just had sex with you. It had never been a good idea but he couldn’t help himself. And now that he’d had you, he didn’t feel as much regret as he thought he would, even with his mind starting to clear of the fog of lust. With your hands gently rubbing over his back he felt content and happy. Sometimes post-nut clarity came in hard but this time, it just felt natural.

But you were still wondering what was coming. The sex had been great and Harry was something else. He had you confused but in any other circumstance, he’d be a man you’d want to keep around. Someone to pursue something with. But that wasn’t what this was. It had only been sex because he was on the job and you were the criminal in his custody.

When Harry finally pushed himself up he looked down at you under him with a smile, “Stay here.”

He was quick to run to the bathroom and bring back a washcloth. He’d removed his condom already you noted as he climbed back toward you on the bed, “Uh… do you want me to, or…?” Harry wasn’t sure you wanted him to clean you up. He was about to. He was going to do it for you, wipe you up because he wanted to keep looking at you but then he realized perhaps you didn’t want that. Maybe it was weird. Maybe you didn’t want him touching you after everything.

You sat up and took the damp cloth, “It’s fine. I’ll do it. Thanks, Harry,” you said as you slid off the bed with the washcloth and headed to the bathroom. You stood for a moment in silence looking at yourself in the mirror and it was awkward suddenly. It felt strange. He was so good in bed and then after he was so sweet and it was pretty much like anything you’d ever imagined as how you’d want sex to go down with any man. But now what? He was still the cop on the case supposedly. But wouldn’t this be a conflict of interest? You really didn’t know how it worked but your gut told you Harry wasn’t going by the book here (not even counting the fact that he’d just had his penis inside of you).

After you took care of yourself you went back into the room and Harry had his sweatpants on. He was standing by the window. You could see that he was feeling the awkwardness too. It made you sad a little. You wished that it wasn’t this way but sex made things awkward sometimes. Especially in this case. Especially when the man you just let fuck you was supposed to be holding you for crimes you’d committed.

You slid your shorts on and found your t-shirt and pulled it over your head. You noticed that Harry had been watching you but he turned away just before you could plant your eyes on him to verify with certainty.

You sat on the bed and looked at your nails. You painted them before you went to the Warwick and they still looked pretty good. A couple of small chips.

“So… are you hungry? You haven’t eaten anything today,” Harry finally spoke. You turned and he was standing on the opposite side of the bed looking at you. He still hadn’t put a shirt on and that was quite distracting. You’d just had two orgasms but the man was beautiful.

“Yeah. I am actually,” you gave him a small smile.

Harry nodded and looked around the room and you saw him duck down and pick up his t-shirt, finally covering his supple, broad, inked chest. You still hadn’t had the chance to suck on his nipples. Maybe give them a bite. You shook the thought from your head.

“All right. Then let’s walk up the road and see what we can find at that convenience store. Should be maybe a twenty-minute walk from here.”

It was a 45-minute walk.

And when you got there you realized the only kind of food available was packaged sweets and salty crackers and chips. Junk food. Which was better than nothing. You were quite hungry.

“Sorry, Y/n,” Harry spoke when he realized the food options were trash. You picked a few things you knew you could stomach and Harry did the same, grabbing everything from your arms that you picked up and dumping them onto the counter to buy.

Harry handed you a bag of gummy bears and he picked a bag of salty potato chips as you both trucked it on the road back to the motel with the plastic bag of the other junky foods in tow. There was no sidewalk so you walked through the gravel on the shoulder of the road the whole way but the gummy bears were tasty. Harry shared his chips with you and so you shared your gummy bears with him.

“My favorite is Haribo. These kind of suck,” Harry said as he lodged three in his mouth at once.

You laugh, “I agree actually. Haribo sort of has the corner on the gummy bear market. But have you ever tried the strawberry gummies? The ones shaped like a strawberry? They’re like this size,” you held your fingers up and demonstrated the size as you looked toward Harry.

He shook his head, “No. Haven’t. I love strawberries, though. Sounds good. Haven’t ever seen anything like that before,” Harry shoveled a handful of chips into his mouth and crunched them.

The sun was beginning to set in the sky as you neared the Arbuckle Inn. The pineapple gummy bear in your mouth was melting a little and you felt your nerves start to take over a bit. You didn’t know what to expect. But you liked that kind of. The thrill of not knowing how shit was going to go down made you feel alive. It’s why you liked what you did for a living. You never knew what you’d encounter. Nothing was dull in life and that’s how you liked it.

“Uh, how are you feeling?” Harry asked as your foot hit Arbuckle Inn’s parking lot.

He wasn’t sure where you were in your head. You seemed okay. He wanted you to be okay. He was stressed though because he had definitely blown everything. He had nothing. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to turn you in even if he did find evidence of your wrongdoings. His boss was onto him as well. She’d been calling all morning and Harry had been avoiding the calls.

“I’m better now that I’ve got something in my stomach,” you followed behind Harry as he unlocked the door to your room.

The air conditioner was rattling and working as hard as it could but you could tell it was on its last leg. The room was only slightly cooler than it was outside. But now that the sun was going down, things would cool down fast.

You and Harry laid out the junk food on the bed and snacked and watched some judge show. He told you how he came to live in the US and become a cop. His jurisdiction was in Los Angeles but he lived South of Long Beach. In your case, he was cross commissioned to work as lead detective on the case.

“So, the room at the Ritz was just for show. You didn’t really need a room,” you said. You were sitting on one side of the bed with your legs crossed facing toward Harry.

“Sort of. My house is a bit far from central LA so the hotel room was necessary to some degree. I could have driven back and forth every day but it would have been harder to keep my site on you that way,” Harry decided it didn’t matter what details he spilled to you anymore. He would be moved off the case. He was certain of it. Probably demoted. Moved to a different jurisdiction completely.

Harry’s phone began to buzz with an incoming call. You looked toward it and the name on the screen Rebecca V piqued your interest. Harry clicked the dismiss button and then flipped the phone screen to face down. He continued to snack and act like the call hadn’t happened. You didn’t ask him about it because it wasn’t your business.

You and Harry cleared the bed of the snacks and put them away into the plastic bag you got from the store. Conversation was limited once you both had your bellies full of junk. You wanted to ask him a million questions but you didn’t know where to start or how to bring them up. Did you just straight up ask him what was going on again? Would he be forthright with you this time? Would he still attempt to get a confession from you?

When you stepped out of the bathroom after brushing your teeth, Harry was taking the pillows from his side of the bed and putting them on the floor.

“What are you doing?” You leaned over to see blankets and a pillow on the floor. He was clearly making himself a pallet to sleep.

“I figured I’d sleep on the floor to give you some space…” Harry looked up at you from his spot on the floor where he was kneeling, “… didn’t want it to be weird or anything, or make you feel uncomfortable.”

For some reason, this pissed you off. You’d just had his penis in your mouth and in your vagina and now he was trying to make you feel comfortable by not sleeping next to you? You understood it was just sex, sure. But you sort of hoped he’d want to do it again. And this just felt like an excuse on his part. You were probably overthinking it but it hurt your feelings a little.

“Don’t pretend you’re trying to make me feel comfortable. If you’re uncomfortable just say it. You’re not looking for anything more, I get it, Harry. But god…” you turned away and walked back toward your side of the room where your bag was to put your toothbrush away.

“Hey,” Harry stood up and faced you from his side of the room, “I’m just trying to be nice here. Didn’t think you’d want me next to you in the bed.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes before turning around to look at Harry, “Don’t put this on me. I didn’t ask you to sleep on the floor. We just had sex, Harry. The fact that you don’t want to sleep next to me on the bed is a bit of an insult along with your cop-out of an excuse. It’s fine to sleep on the floor if that’s what you want but don’t act like it’s for my benefit.”

Harry was confused. He really was trying to be respectful of you and he hadn’t realized this would get you upset. He scratched the back of his neck and shook his head in puzzlement.

Then his phone rang again. Harry lifted it up and looked to see it was his boss, Rebecca, again. He hit the dismiss button and sat the phone back down and sighed.

“Rebecca again?” You looked at Harry as you sat down on the bed with your arms crossed. He probably had a girlfriend or something.

Harry laughed and shook his head as he lifted a bottle of water to his lips. He didn’t want to answer that. He didn’t have a girlfriend but he wasn’t ready to admit that his boss was on to him and that what he was doing was all for nothing. He knew he needed to. He should tell you that you were free to go. He wasn’t sure why he was even keeping you anymore.

Instead of answering your question, Harry continued to make his floor pallet and you were fuming.

“So that’s why you want to sleep on the floor. You feel bad for cheating on your girlfriend with me. Is that it? Typical,” you huffed as you moved the blankets over your legs and stretched. The whole thing hurt your feelings but you weren’t surprised. Now you were back to being angry at him and just wanted this day to be over.

You settled into the bed and laid your head on your pillow and faced away from Harry.

Harry didn’t want you mad at him. But it didn’t matter. It was probably better this way. But why was it better? It wasn’t like he had anything to go on and what he was doing was insane. Holding you and hoping for some break in the case? The moment he told his boss about what happened and explained everything he knew he’d be removed from the case. Then he might not see you again. Perhaps that was where his hesitance lay. The thought that after this, that would be it. He wouldn’t see you again. His inner turmoil was heavy. He didn’t know what he wanted. In another world, he’d be all over you and try to get on your good side. He’d want to see you as often as you’d let him and he’d take you out and get to know more of you and then maybe even start something serious with you. But in this world, he was a cop and you were a criminal.

Harry walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth. The flickering light was annoying and he felt exhausted. He really hadn’t had the best sleep the night before, if any. And then of course he was more confused than he’d ever been. About you. About the case. You were still lying on your side on the bed when he came out of the bathroom and he looked over your face smushed into the pillow. You weren’t sleeping but your eyes were closed.

Harry lifted his phone up and saw all the missed calls from Rebecca and he didn’t know if he should just get it over with. Call her back and tell her everything. Maybe tomorrow. He looked over at you again, “I don’t have a girlfriend, Y/n.”

You opened your eyes and stayed silent. You imagined that if Rebecca wasn’t his girlfriend then she was probably some chick he hooked up with who had his number or something. There was just no way Harry wasn’t getting it regularly. Or maybe she was his friend? You knew his sister’s name because he’d told you.

You heard Harry sigh and then felt the bed dip when he sat down but you didn’t bother to move to look at him or rollover.

“I wouldn’t have done anything if I had a girlfriend. I just… Look, sleeping on the floor was just meant to be polite, nothing else. I didn’t want to cross any more boundaries than I’ve already crossed with you,” Harry paused, and when you still didn’t move to look at him he put his hand on your arm to get your attention. You didn’t move when you felt him touch you.

“Would you look at me? Come on. I’m trying to be a nice guy here, Y/n.”

That got you to laugh. How ridiculous was he? A nice guy. Harry’d been nice, sure, but most of all he was confusing and infuriating.

You finally rolled to your back and turned your head toward him. Harry removed his hand from your arm.

“It feels very much like a power play, Harry. You fuck me but you don’t want to sleep next to me. At least having a girlfriend would explain it, but you say you don’t have a girlfriend. So then we’re back to it being a bit of an insult. So, it’s not actually a nice thing. If you don’t want to be next to me even after we had sex, that’s fine. But don’t pretend it’s not insulting to me,” you sit up so you can see his face better.

Harry frowned and looked down to his lap, “Sorry. I didn’t know,” he looked back up at you, “Did you want me to sleep next to you?”

You laughed again and rubbed your hands over your face and then ran your fingers through your hair in frustration, “Ya know what, Harry? Don’t worry about it. Just do what think is good for you. You’re taking me to jail anyway, right? So you sleeping next to me just complicates things. Now that you’ve had sex with me that’s all you need. I’m good with that if you are.”

You began to lay back down but Harry grabbed your arm, “Don’t do that. We were getting along finally. Don’t get all pissy. I’m trying to talk about this. Do you want me to sleep here next to you? Is that what you were expecting?”

You let out a laugh in disbelief as you shook your head. This man was crazy if he thought he was going to get you to spill your inner thoughts.

You didn’t answer as you tried to pull your arm away from him but Harry leaned in and tightened his hand around your arm, “Why are you so difficult? You’re like a child sometimes, Y/n.”

You dropped your mouth open in shock at his words. A child?

“Fuck you, Harry. You’re just really good at making a girl feel like shit. That’s all. Let me go,” you pulled your arm and Harry released you but he stayed in his spot, his face in a frown, brows scrunched.

“No. Fuck you. I’m tired of your mouth, you know that? I try to be nice and do the right thing but you give me these cryptic questions and answers. It’s bullshit. If you want something all you have to do is say it.”

You leaned your head back to the headboard and looked upward with a grin, “Oh, you’re tired of my mouth? Really? You seemed to like my mouth not that long ago and I think that’s where the problem lies,” you turned to look at him, “You feel like sex is okay but when it comes to sleeping next to me, that’s where you draw the line? What’s going on here, Harry? Really. Tell me the truth.”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and squinted as he looked at you. He wasn’t going to tell you just yet. But he did understand your upset a little better now.

“Okay. I see… so you felt used? Is that it? Look, Y/n… I don’t know what you want from this. I’m a cop,”

You scoffed and cut him off, “And I’m the criminal. I fucking know, Harry. You’re sure to remind me every fucking chance you get. So what’s the difference? You fuck me and somehow your morals kick in when it comes time to sleep? Were you planning to cuff me to the bed too so I don’t run away?”

Harry turned his head to look at the wall and shake his head before looking back at you, “What the fuck do you want, Y/n? Tell me.”

“I want you to tell me what’s going on. Is any of this allowed? Start there,” you raised your brows at him and cocked your head to the side.

Harry cleared his throat and his phone started to buzz again. You both looked over at the phone lit up on the night table and then back at one another. You kept your brows raised at him.

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. He was in such deep shit.

“Is it Rebecca? Who is she? And I’m not asking because I’m jealous before your ego starts getting any ideas.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at you. You were sitting upright now with your arms crossed over your chest and your thigh and knee were poking out from under the blanket. You saw how Harry moved his eyes down to your leg and over your frame.

“She’s… look, I’m trying to figure everything out here. Okay? I just need time to think,” Harry stood from the bed and you watched him turn his phone off completely. He was flustered. He walked to the window and pulled the curtain back a bit and looked out and then turned back to you. He clicked the lamp off and pulled his t-shirt off over his head and draped it on the back of the chair.

“Nuh uh…” you pointed at him and stood from the bed, putting your feet on the carpet floor, “Nope. You put your clothes back on. You can’t just fucking walk around here with your shirt off. That’s not fair.”

Harry scoffed and got down onto his knees on the pallet he made, ignoring you. You put your hands on your hips and walked to the end of the bed and watched him.

“Put your shirt on Harry or my clothes are all coming off because I normally sleep naked. So if you get to be comfortable while you sleep, then so do I,” you didn’t move from your spot as you watched Harry ignore you and pull the sheet over his body. So you put your fingers into the band of your shorts and began pulling them down your legs.

Harry wasn’t going to look. He thought you were bluffing at first but then when he saw you moving from his peripheral he realized you weren’t bluffing. You’d slid your shorts down your legs and he knew you didn’t have panties on because he watched you put your shorts on earlier after you two had sex.

Harry huffed out a laugh and sat up, “Fine. I usually sleep naked too,” he pulled his sweatpants down his legs and acted as if he wasn’t bothered in the least by your bare legs and the fact that you only had a t-shirt on with nothing under it. But he was bothered. His thoughts were racing. He felt his heart rate pick up and he tried to ignore how his cock started to plump, but he covered himself in time. Still not looking at you.

“Okay. Have it your way,” you said as you pulled your t-shirt off over your head and walked right in front of him, dropping the material on the floor. He wasn’t looking at you, and you knew it was on purpose. You knew if he looked it’d be game over for him. You were holding all the cards and he thought he could call your bluff but you weren’t shy and plus he’d seen you naked already. You kind of hoped he’d look at you and eat his words and you’d just saunter off to the bed and fall asleep happily.

You grabbed your water bottle off the nightstand right behind Harry and leaned over, purposely keeping yourself in his view. You uncapped the top of the bottle and took a drink and then sat it back down on the table and turned to walk toward the bed.

Harry couldn’t help himself. He watched you walk off and saw the curve of your bottom and then closed his eyes. You were baiting him. He laid back on his pallet and looked up at the ceiling. His cock was slowly thickening under the blanket and he was trying to will it away. Deep breaths Harry he said to himself.

But you were fine. You hummed and climbed into the sheets and pulled the blankets up over yourself and smiled. You knew what you were doing, and even if nothing came from it you still found it amusing. Harry didn’t seem to care but he was a man. You knew he was bothered by it because he wouldn’t even look in your direction.

“So much better now that I’m all bare under the sheets. Thanks for the idea, Harry,” you spoke as you stretched and rolled to face toward the direction where Harry was lying, even though you couldn’t see him on his pallet.

He grunted and you could hear him shift on his pallet. Harry was just trying to keep himself in line. His cock had a mind of its own at that moment. He pressed himself down and sighed as he closed his eyes. He’d just try to sleep and get through the night.

But after moments of silence, he heard you getting up. The bed squeaked when you got off it and he slowly lifted his head to see what you were doing. He hadn’t cuffed you to the bed this time. He figured you weren’t going to run, but he was also sleeping on the side close to the door so he’d see you if you tried to escape.

Suddenly you were walking around the bed and grabbing your bottle of water. You stood a foot from him and took a drink and then recapped it before placing it back on the table.

“Why don’t you bring it with you and put it on the nightstand? So you don’t need to keep getting up,” Harry spoke to you.

You smiled and began to walk away again but stopped so he could still see you, “Because it’s more fun this way.”

Harry sat up and even in the dark he could see your shape. Your breasts were pretty and round, your hips were perfect for grabbing and squeezing, and your bottom was soft. He wanted to touch you again.

But you wanted him to touch you. You were asking for it, practically. You wanted him in the bed with you at the very least. You couldn’t really make out his frame because he was in the shadow next to the bed but you could tell he was looking at you now. He was sitting up. His broad shoulders and the shape of his head were in the shadow but he was still handsome.

“What? Do I have something on my back?” You said in jest as you turned your bottom toward him and looked behind yourself and then back to Harry.

Harry let out a deep breath and moved up to his knees, but he held his blanket over his crotch you noted, which made you smile. You turned back to face him again, “Got something you need to hide there?” You teased.

Harry was at his wit's end. He knew what you were doing and he was going to go with it now. He had no reason not to anymore. Damn protocol. When you saw his large hand reach up and grab your thigh, he pulled you toward himself. As you were standing directly in front of him you smiled and felt your limbs zip with excitement. He was giving in.

He took a hold of your hips and stood up, his blanket falling to the floor and revealing what he tried to hide. He was hard. You’d gotten a rise out of him. Literally.

But in less than a second your back hit the bed and Harry was over you with his mouth at yours again. And just like the time before, the kiss had you on another planet. You grasped onto his back and opened your legs quickly for him to settle in between.

Harry brought a hand to your thigh and moved your leg to wrap around his waist and you moved your other leg up to match, so you had both your legs hooked at the ankle around his hips.

Harry’s heavy dick was lying over your stomach, warm and stiff. This was what you wanted. To have him again. To feel it again.

But Harry wanted it too. It wasn’t like he’d been talked into this or you made him cave. He wanted you under him, on him, around him.

Harry put his hands under your head as he slotted your lips together and breathed heavily from his nose. You felt so good in his arms. He liked this a lot. Too much.

You suddenly pushed at Harry and he gasped when he parted his lips from yours, “What is it?”

You sat up, and Harry moved back, keeping his hands on your thighs. You pushed him and made him lie on his back and you crawled over him, placing your pussy on his cock, your lips spreading for him as you slid up his shaft, “See how wet you make me, Harry? It needs to be taken care of,” you whispered before leaning down to kiss him. You kept your pussy on his prick, slipping yourself over him as he put his hands on your bottom and guided you up and down. His breathing was heavy, and the small moans falling from his lips made you smile.

“That’s why you wanted me on the bed with you,” Harry spoke against your lips, “you wanted my cock again. Isn’t that right?”

You moaned and nodded as you licked into his mouth, “Yes, Harry. Who cares? Right? It’s too late anyway. We’ve already fucked. Let’s do it again,” you spoke in breaths between kisses.

You weren’t really one to beg. And that wasn’t actually you begging. But you were horny and Harry was really good in bed. And you wanted his prick inside of you again, stretching you, poking deep into your tummy, slicking itself through your walls, and dragging against all the good spots inside that no other cock had ever touched.

Harry groaned and squeezed your bottom harshly, “Okay. You win. Fuck I want you,” Harry pulled you down to his mouth so he could kiss you again. You were both far too gone at this point. The sex was good and that’s all there was to it.

“Where are your condoms?” You sat up over him and smoothed your hands over his pecs and then dipped down and finally wrapped your lips around a nipple. You licked and sucked at it. He smelled good too and you could feel his heart pounding under your mouth. Harry moaned and rocked his hips upward, “In the nightstand,” he put an arm out and his knuckle hit the wood nightstand. You lifted up and crawled over him to open the drawer and felt for the box to pull it out.

Harry pulled you down over his mouth, his lips connecting to your tummy as you pulled a condom out of the box and then pushed away from his mouth, lowering yourself back down to put the condom over him.

Harry sat up and watched as you removed the rubber from the packaging and placed it over his tip. You slowly rolled it down over him and smiled, “Your cock is really pretty, Harry.”

Harry chuckled and grabbed your hips to bring you up to him, “Then put that pretty pussy on my pretty cock, Y/n. Stop playing.”

So you did. You placed him at your entrance and as you slid down over him you both moaned. Perfection.

You moved up and down over him slowly. This position made him feel so much deeper and you sucked in a sharp breath when the bottom of your thighs were sat over his fully, his cock deep in your guts. You closed your eyes and put your hands back to hold onto the top of his thighs and began moving him in and out. Harry gasped at the tightness and he held onto the bottom of your thighs as you fucked yourself on him.

“So deep like this, Harry. Oh my god…” you bit your lip and kept your hips moving up and down. The slick sounds were already obvious in the room. You’d been wet for a bit. Soaked in fact.

“Fuck…” Harry had his head on the pillow under him and dropped his mouth open. You felt so good. God was he glad you were not shy and that you were so forward.

You got into a rhythm, slipping up and down his long shaft. You worked your thighs to lift yourself and give Harry a bit of a view so he could watch his cock spreading you apart. He definitely liked what you were doing.

He moved the pillow under his neck so he could watch with more ease. He moved his hands back to underneath your thighs, “So fucking pretty on my cock like that, Y/n,” he groaned.

You licked your lips and smiled, “It is pretty isn’t it? Feels so good too,” you panted.

Your thighs began to get a little tired so you sat forward and brought your hands to his chest, knees down on the mattress to grind down over him. You moved yourself over his cock, your clit dragging over his pubic bone and you moaned. Harry reached up to squeeze your tits and he bent his knees slightly, his feet flat on the mattress and began rutting up into you slowly.

The new position was easier for you and it allowed Harry to fuck into you as well. When he started to rock upward the bed started to creak under his shifting weight. You braced yourself over him, your hands at his chest as he picked up the pace.

“Ugh!” You were knocked upward a bit when he went harder and his balls began to smack into your bottom on each thrust into you, “Fuck, Harry!”

The thudding of skin and the wet plunge of his cock into you was Harry’s favorite sound. It had been too long since he’d had regular sex. Your little gasps and whines were also egging him on. He could tell you liked what he was doing so he went harder and you closed your eyes, mouth dropped open.

From this angle, Harry had the best view of your tits softly bouncing and your neck stretched out and mouth open. Your whimpers and the way you were squeezing around him were good signs.

“Like that, Y/n? Like it when I fuck into you deep?” Harry’s hands were on your ass, guiding you up and down on his cock as he continued plunging into you from his position below.

“Uh huh…” you whined and nodded. You opened your eyes and looked down at him. You could fuck this man all day and all night. He was so hot and he was really good with his cock and his mouth. God, it was too good.

Your loud moans and gasps of Harry’s name were met with Harry’s own moans. You liked a man who was a little vocal. Harry didn’t give you too much but when he did, it sent your heart fluttering. You loved that your pussy was making him feel good the way his dick was making you feel good.

With the way your clit was being rubbed against on his pubes and Harry’s cock lodged deep in your guts you came suddenly. You whined Harry’s name and clenched over his cock. Harry gritted his teeth when he felt your little muscle squeezing him and he gasped when he came. He stilled his hips and grasped your ass, holding you down over him as he emptied into his condom and you panted in high-pitched breaths.

You had already been on edge before Harry even fucked you. You’d wanted him since you got back to the motel room with the snacks. And then after all the conversation and the subtle flirting, the looks he was giving you, then the teasing and the argument that led to where you were now… it was no wonder you’d come so fast.

You smoothed your hands over his pecs (really your favorite spot to put your palms) and Harry moved his hands from your bottom to your waist and pulled you down over him. He wrapped his arms around you and you put your cheek at his clavicle. With your eyes closed you moved your hands up into his hair and Harry kissed the top of your head, his hands brushing over your back.

“I’ll sleep in the bed with you tonight since you insisted,” Harry joked with a laugh.

You smiled and laughed and turned your head down and lightly bit at his skin, “Nah… you should sleep on the floor. I’ve gotten what I wanted from you, detective,” you chuckled and then you felt Harry’s hand land over your bottom and you jumped, pushing yourself up to look at him in shock.

“Did you just spank me?” You had a big grin on your face but so did Harry.

He raised a brow and brought his palm down on your soft, round bottom again with a smack, a little harder this time, and laughed, “OH. Was that what that was? Like this?” He did again and you laughed and tried to push off of him but his free arm wrapped tighter around your middle and held you securely in place.

“You’re a menace, Harry!” You giggled when you felt his fingers pinch your skin where the curve of your bottom met the back of your thigh. You smacked his chest and he laughed, a deep vibration coming from his chest and it felt like you’d known him forever. Like it should feel when you’re in bed with someone you’ve just had sex with.

“A menace?” Harry’s eyes were droopy as he smiled and shook his head, “No. I don’t think so. You deserve a good spanking I think. I bet you don’t get spanked often enough. It’s why you’re so mouthy.”

You both laughed and you wiggled to move off of him again but he continued to hold you still, “Don’t go. Just stay like this with me.” Harry squeezed you tighter.

You relented with a huff (a fake one because you were actually quite pleased that he didn’t want you to move) and laid your head back down on his chest, your fingernails lightly scraping over the hair on his chest.

Harry let out a deep hum, vibrating against your ear and you smiled. A sudden feeling of giddiness fell over you. It felt good like this. With Harry. You still didn’t know what tomorrow held but you knew that at that moment in his arms something had shifted. And when he kissed the top of your head again you felt your heart flutter in your chest. You turned your head and kissed the skin on his pec and then smushed your cheek back into his chest again and you could feel Harry’s heart pounding in his chest. You both felt it. The beginning of something.

◈ ◈ ◈

You woke up to Harry moving the slightest bit under you. You woke up still on top of him, just like you’d fallen asleep, but you could tell his penis was no longer inside of you. You lifted your head and looked up at his sleepy face and saw the light coming in from the sides of the window. It was morning.

“Morning,” Harry’s groggy morning voice was even sexy. His hair was a mess and his body was so warm and comfortable. You couldn’t believe you’d fallen asleep on top of him and stayed that way all night. You looked over at the clock on the nightstand.

“It’s 8:40. Should we call that place where your car is?” You looked down at Harry.

He took a deep breath, which made his chest expand. You put your hands on his pecs and smiled down at him. Harry moved his hands down to your bottom, gently brushing over it, and pulled you up a little so that your face was directly over his.

“They don’t open until 10,” his smile was a little cheeky as he squeezed at your bottom, and when you shifted you felt it. His hardon.

You squinted down at him and laughed, “See? You’re a menace,” you smiled.

Harry hummed and nodded, “Guess I am. What about you? Are you feeling like a menace too?” He licked his lips and there was nothing more to say so you lowered your mouth to his and softly kissed his lips.

The kiss was lazy and soft and a little sloppy. A perfect morning kiss but it wasn’t just any morning kiss. It led to you grinding over Harry’s cock and Harry slipping a new condom on and then fucking you tummy down into the bed. He slid his hand in between you and the mattress and rubbed your clit as he plunged into you from behind. Another record breaker. You came on his cock and he released into his condom in less than fifteen minutes total. Then he kissed your back and down your spine until he sat back and spanked your bottom a couple of times for good measure making you both laugh.

You took a much-needed shower that Harry interrupted. The man was either deprived or an addict because when he pulled the grimy shower curtain back and stepped in while you had soap in your hair he was already thick and hard between his legs. You lowered to your knees to suck him off. He wanted to fuck you again but he didn’t bring a condom into the shower with himself and you knew how difficult shower sex was. And the wall of the tub was not anything you wanted to touch.

Harry placed a palm on the wall while you gagged and worked your hardest on him but he kept pulling you off and saying sweet shit like, “Take it easy. No need to choke on it. You don’t have to prove anything to me.” Which is the kind of shit that makes a girl fall in love. The last guy you slept with wanted you to choke on it. Wanted you to gag and take him down your throat and so for Harry with his big dick and pretty eyes looking at you all soft, well, that made you want to choke on his cock, and maybe that’s why he said those things. Reverse psychology and all. So you went all in and Harry was moaning and gasping and begging you even. He was begging you.

“Oh, my god. Yes, please, baby. Fuck… please… please…” you smiled as you choked him down your throat. He was no longer trying to pull you off as his cock began throbbing and you tasted a steady drip of his pre-come. You couldn’t put him all in but you could get his tip to graze the back of his throat (which wasn’t hard because Harry’s cock was long). You felt Harry’s hand in your hair but he never pushed you down over him, which again, was sweet and romantic (it was rare that a man didn’t try to push you down on him once his hand was in your hair during head). Harry’s knees started to bend slightly and he put more weight onto his palm where he leaned against the shower wall.

“Fuck… like that, Y/n… oh my god…” Harry’s words were deep groans and he tried to keep his eyes on you as swallowed around him but every time you gulped around his tip when it hit the back of your throat Harry got a little weaker and his legs were fighting to keep him upright, “Holy shit… please don’t stop. Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he moaned as he threw his head back.

You had your hands on his muscular thighs to keep yourself steady as the water coming down from the showerhead was slippery under your knees. When you chanced to move a hand to his heavy balls, full of his come, you spread your thighs to maintain your balance. You watched his chest heave as you gently massaged his scrotum and whirled your tongue over his tip as you caught your breath before taking him down your throat again, gagging and choking.

And that did it. When Harry felt your small hands brushing and gently squeezing his balls and the way your throat gripped his bulbous head when you gagged he came with a deep, loud groan and quivering thighs. You drank him down and kept your eyes upward on him and the way he looked down at you as his cock pumped ropes of his come down your throat, it felt a lot sweeter than a blowjob should feel. Your reward was him lifting you up and kissing you so hard and so deeply that it felt like a dream. This man couldn’t be real. How could he be taking you to jail and kissing you like this too?

And those thoughts were already in Harry’s mind the moment he woke up with you in his arms. How was he going to give you up to the police and let them lock you away? How was he going to not keep you now that he’s had you? Really had you. He needed to find a way to keep you out of trouble and himself. He just didn’t know what he was going to do because he hadn’t really had any time to think. But he was sure he wouldn’t be able to just release you from his custody either. What if you didn’t want to stay? He’d be heartbroken. Well, maybe not heartbroken but he’d be hurt if you didn’t want to stay. But he couldn’t make you stay with him if you didn’t want to.

So he did what any man would do who wanted to make sure the girl was happy, he carried you to the bed and ate you out until you came on his face and gushed over his chin. He liked having his face in between your legs. Liked you noises and the way you wiggled. He really liked you in general. And he did not expect to like you as much as he did.

After you’d finally put some clothes on Harry turned his phone on. He sat down on the bed with his back to you and that’s when you remembered. Rebecca. You watched his body language from where you stood as you put your hair into a ponytail. You heard him sigh. He stared down at the phone in his hand silently.

You hesitated to ask but you were not one to hold back normally. Sometimes you spoke when you shouldn’t. Sometimes you put your foot into your mouth. Many times you didn’t think before you said something, “Did she call again?”

Harry’s back stiffened and he put the phone down on the bed. You saw him take in a deep breath and he turned, putting his knee up onto the bed, and looked at you standing on the opposite side.

“Rebecca is my boss. Yes. She called again. She’s not happy.”

His boss. Huh. Now you felt a number of things. The first was relief that it wasn’t some hookup or a girlfriend. Secondly, you felt a little bad for asking since it wasn’t a girlfriend or someone he might be interested in. You were also curious. What could his boss want? Should you ask? Was he in trouble? He was in trouble. The look on his face told you almost everything you wanted to know.

“You’re in trouble,” you said as you sat down on the bed.

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and nodded, “Yup.”

You decided that was enough to know for now. Unless he decided to share more with you willingly. But you’d take that little bit until he was ready for more. But that didn’t mean you weren’t very curious. You had your theories.

Harry knew that by turning on his phone he’d see all the missed calls and messages from Rebecca. He was in deep shit. He just needed to get his thoughts together. But first, he needed to call the shop and figure out what was going on with his car.

The man at the shop did not have news Harry wanted to hear. A part needed to be ordered and it was coming from a different city so the man couldn’t have the car done until the following afternoon. The good news was that he didn’t need payment upfront. Harry assumed he’d need to get a taxi to the shop, pay the man and then come back to the motel again. So that was the one bright thing in his day. And you too.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and watched you as you dug through your suitcase. You were pulling things out and folding clothes sitting on the floor. He sat down next to you, cross-legged and you turned to look at him, “What?”

Harry shrugged, “Just thought I’d join you down here. I was thinking of asking the person at the office if there was any place nearby to eat. Like real food. Maybe we can get a taxi or walk if it’s close enough. What do you think?”

You closed your suitcase and kept your eyes on Harry’s. His eyes were so beautiful. Not like any others you’d seen. Otherworldly almost. Light olive with whispers of blue and gold. And then the outer edges of his iris were a deeper shade of green as if to outline the fact that he was more beautiful than anyone else. Like he needed an outline in a darker green so you’d really pay attention to his gaze. Impossible to avert your eyes. And then that was all defined by his dark lashes to really draw you in.

“Uh…” you had to reign in your thoughts when you realized you’d been staring too long, “that actually sounds good. I’m hungry.”

Harry was smirking at you. He noticed your lingering look. He knew he was pretty and it pleased him that you noticed it too.

The closest restaurant was a diner but you’d need to take a taxi because it was a twenty-minute drive away. Harry called a taxi and to your shock, the same man that dropped you off the day before was there to pick you up. Bob. He was friendly and talkative, just like last time. But this time Harry sat in the back with you. He put an arm behind your back and pulled you into his side. You felt like you were in high school again. It was like basic touch had you spinning. Had you been that touch-starved? Maybe. But you really liked being tucked into his side and the way Harry kept his arm over your shoulder and softly brushed his thumb on your arm. Everything he did was a turn on and now you were reminded of his big prick and his big mouth and the bed waiting for you when you got back to the motel.

The diner was in a small town. The town was so small it consisted of one road with a grocery store, a gas station, a public building that might have been a library at one time but was now boarded up, a few houses, a bar, and the Belladonna Diner. Such a fancy name for a small-town diner.

Bob promised to be back in about an hour and you Harry settled into a booth to get something hot to eat. He showed you pictures of his sister and her kids. And then his mom. And then he gave you your phone, “You can have your phone. Shouldn’t have taken it from you in the first place,” he said as he slid it across the table to you.

You looked at him in question as you picked it up. You had a lot of missed calls and texts. Mostly from Raechel. You looked from your phone screen back up to Harry, “Thank you. Uh,” you lifted your phone up and showed Harry, “I’m just gonna text Raechel and let her know I’m okay.”

Harry was nervous to give you your phone but he had no reason to hold it. He had no reason to hold you. He needed to come clean to you about what was going on. About how you were free to go. How he’d drop the case and even tell his boss that he found nothing on you. He knew it was you. You still hadn’t admitted it to him but he knew it.

You quickly typed a text to Raechel and told her you were fine and that you’d call her later when you had a chance. You wanted to talk to her in private but you weren’t sure yet what you could tell her.

Your food was laid down on the table and you and Harry began to eat in silence. Having your phone back was nice but you didn’t know what it meant.

“Why? I mean…” you swallowed your bite, “why give me my phone back? Will you tell me what’s going to happen?” You just wanted answers. You wanted to understand what you could expect tomorrow.

Harry rolled his neck and looked out the window before sipping his coffee and placing it back on the table, “You’re free to go. I don’t have any reason to hold you. When my car gets fixed I can take you back to your mother’s. I’m sorry about everything,” Harry didn’t look you in the eyes when he spoke.

But you didn’t like his answer for some reason. Maybe yesterday before getting to the motel you would have been happy to hear the words you’re free to go. But now? You didn’t know if you liked that or not. It didn’t help you settle in your mind your feelings or straighten out what was to come next.

“So, you’re not taking me to jail?” You raised your brows and sat back in the seat as you watched Harry push his food around on his plate.

“No. I’ll tell my boss you’re not the one we’re looking for. I’m going to be removed from the case. I’ve ruined my hard work,” you saw his throat bob when he swallowed. He looked disappointed. Upset.

“Thank you,” your voice came out softer than you intended.

“I think I just wanted to see if I could get a confession but now,” Harry shook his head and clenched his jaw, still not looking at you, “I don’t want it. I don’t want you to go to prison,” he finally looked up at you, “I guess I just wanted you around. Didn’t want to let you go even after I knew it was no good and I’d get into trouble,” he licked his lips and looked back down.

You didn’t know what to say. You looked back down at your phone when Raechel texted you back but you were too focused on the man before you to lift the phone to read her reply.

“What about you? What will you do? You said you were in trouble. Would you be like… fired or something?” You were concerned.

Harry shook his head and sighed, “No. Maybe moved to a different case, suspended perhaps, I don’t know. I don’t think I’d be fired. Not for this. It was a fuck up but not something to lose my job over.”

You nodded, “Well… what about…” you frowned and looked down to build a bit of courage to say what you wanted, “us. What about us?”

Harry lifted his head up to look at you and scrunched his brows together, “What do you mean?”

You blinked and opened your mouth to speak but paused. How would you say it? The things you were feeling and what you really wanted. You didn’t want this to be over suddenly. You liked Harry. Was this it? You bit your lip and looked down to your lap and then took a deep breath, “I like you,” you brought your gaze back up to his, “I know this isn’t conventional but, I kind of hoped…” you shook your head and looked out the window. You didn’t know what you hoped. You didn’t know what you even wanted.

“You like me?” Harry said in a voice barely above a whisper and you turned to look at him, his grin was soft, genuine.

You laughed and nodded, “I mean… yeah. Thought you kind of liked me too,” you shrugged and gave him a sheepish smile.

Harry leaned back into his seat and his grin widened, dimples carving into his cheeks. You felt his foot nudge yours and you saw the cheeky sparkle in his eyes, that look again, the one that said he knew something you didn’t.

“What makes you think I like you?” His question was goading. He couldn’t stop his grin from taking over his features. He knew it was at least somewhat obvious to you by now the way he felt about you.

You squinted at him and pushed his foot away from yours and crossed your arms, “Oh, I don’t know. Let’s see… maybe it’s the way you can’t keep your hands to yourself around me,” you raised your brows at him, “the way you saved me from Oregano,” you both laughed, “how you begged me this morning in the shower…” you grinned and Harry’s eyes widened.

“Did not beg you. I don’t beg. You were the one on your knees with my,” he looked around the mostly empty diner and leaned in, both of his feet encasing yours now, holding your legs in place, “dick down your throat,” he chuckled and his grin turned into something more scandalous, his eyes getting a little darker.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes and put your middle finger up to his face, “You did beg. Multiple times. And then you spread me out on the bed and thanked me with your mouth on my kitty.” You smiled and Harry grabbed your middle finger and pulled your hand to his mouth, nipping the tip of your pad between his teeth before letting go, “Be careful giving me the finger like that young lady.”

You rolled your eyes again and Harry tilted his head down, keeping his eyes on you with a look of warning.

“Why? You worried I’ll stick it in your bum hole?” You sputtered out a laugh and Harry slid out of his spot in the booth and plopped down next to you, caging you in with his legs and his arms as he leaned close.

“No. There’s nothing you could do to me that I wouldn’t like. But that attitude is gonna get you in a lot of trouble,” his nearness was overwhelming, in the best way. He didn’t back down easily but neither did you. You liked the back-and-forth with him. The banter, the flirting, the fake annoyance, the combative arguments that got heated and turned to you being unable to resist him anymore.

“So you do want it up your bum hole. I can make that happen for you, Harry,” you spoke quietly and licked your lips.

Harry’s eyes were dark and when you slid your hand over his crotch you realized he was just as turned on as you were. You squeezed and Harry let out a quick puff of breath, parting his lips.

“See? This is just one of the many reasons I can tell you like me,” you pressed your palm down and Harry leaned down further toward your face, and suddenly his mouth was on yours.

You wrapped your hands around his back and brought them up to the back of his head and he pulled you into his body and it got hot a little too fast. You were in public and making out in a booth in a small-town diner. There weren’t many people in the diner but still. Your panties were wet and Harry’s prick was hard. You hadn’t had enough of him and you decided you didn’t want it to be over yet.

Harry kissed you hard and his shaky breath between kisses told you how turned on he was. He was more than turned on, though. He was relieved that you said you liked him. That you seemed to want more like he did. He didn’t think it was a good idea, but good ideas be damned at this point. He was already in too deep and why deny himself now? Why stop what he’d started when you didn’t seem to want it to stop either?

Harry laid cash down on the table and you both went outside for privacy. On the side of the building in view of the road so you could see Bob coming Harry had you against the brick and slid his hands under your shirt and cupped your breasts as he continued kissing you like you were the last woman on earth. You had your hands in the back of his shirt, smoothing your palms over his skin, your bodies pressed together hard when you heard the honking of a horn.

You both parted from the kiss with gasps and pink cheeks and turned to see Bob parked in the road at the curb waving at you both.

The ride back to the motel was mostly a series of small kisses and touches and attempts to keep it cool as Bob chatted and filled the silence, only making it more awkward when you’d catch him looking in the rearview mirror.

Harry practically dragged you into your room and slammed the door closed the moment you both were inside and clothes couldn’t come off fast enough. It’s like you hadn’t had enough yet. Like you couldn’t get enough. You knew you should probably talk about what might happen tomorrow but that could wait when Harry pushed you onto the bed and hooked his arms under your thighs and placed his whole mouth over your pussy and began licking you up and down.

You placed your hands in his hair and moved your hips up and down over his face. He didn’t even need to use his fingers to get you off this time. His tongue and lips worked you into a frenzy and you learned that when you had your clit sucked on and a tongue slipping up and down at the same time it was magic. That was his secret. The sucking and the licking all at once were sensational and it turned you into an agitated, bumbling, wet mess.

Harry had your legs locked down as he used his talented mouth on you and when you felt the nearness of your orgasm start to spike through your system you opened your eyes and looked down at him, a mess of curls from how your fingers had been pulling at his hair, his eyes closed like you were a delicacy to take his time eating. A flavor to savor.

“Harry!” you gasped his name in a breathy voice and felt his voice vibrate off of your clit and that was it for you. You came hard and tears rolled down your cheeks as you tried to inhale breaths of air. Harry’s mouth only dug in harder and he held you down with ease, your thighs trying to close around his head and your entire body trembling under him.

You’d lost yourself for a bit but when you felt soft licks and kisses on your cunt and your head began to piece itself together again you opened your eyes and looked down between your legs. Harry’s eyes were on you and he lifted his face. The insides of your thighs were red from the agitation of the overgrown scruff on his face, which now had your arousal all over. Harry kissed the inside of your left thigh and then climbed over you and planted a sloppy kiss on your mouth. You wrapped your arms around him and basked in his attention with a sigh, attempting to kiss him back before he pulled away to look down at you.

“You okay?” He looked at you, that cocky grin on his face again.

You nodded and smiled and then closed your eyes. You weren’t ready for real words just yet. Your brain was still working itself back into place.

You felt Harry move off of you and get off the bed so you watched him as he went somewhere in the room but you couldn’t move your head back far enough to keep your eyes on his naked frame.

He came back to the bed, the mattress dipping down next to you and he laid on his side, an arm smoothing over your middle and you were pulled into his chest. You liked all of the affection he was suddenly so freely giving you. The hugs, the sweet gestures, and longing looks, the gentle kisses…

Yeah. He definitely liked you. He just still hadn’t quite admitted it yet. He hadn’t told you what he wanted or what his plan was.

You leaned your head back to look up at him and his eyes were already on you. You smiled at him and the smell of yourself was distinct between you two.

And like he was reading your mind Harry finally spoke, “I like you a lot.”

Your smile widened and you slid your palms up from his pecs to his neck and then into his hair, “Yeah? I knew it.”

Harry laughed through his nose and smiled, “What gave it away?”

You touched his lip and then thumbed at his cheek and up toward the edge of his eye, “That. The way you look at me.”

Harry’s mouth was curved up in a closed-mouth smile as his eyes took in the whole of your face.

It was another one of those intimate moments that felt serious and too real. It felt like you were about to lose balance and tip over into dangerous territory. But you wanted to find out what the danger was. To look at it and experience it. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad. Maybe it was a mistake.

“I can’t help it. You’re so pretty,” he put his hand up to your face and grazed his fingers over your temple and down to your cheek, and then over your bottom lip. You closed your eyes. It was too intense. His gaze, his presence, the moment.

You felt his lips on your jaw, soft, and warm. You were both still naked and Harry’s erection was far from being tamed. He needed it taken care of.

You moved your hand down to press your palm over him and he brought his lips up to kiss your mouth. It happened without very much thought, your thigh getting hitched over his hip, your centers kissing like your mouths were and suddenly you opened your eyes and he opened his as he pushed into you, both laid on your sides facing one another.

You lost all sense when you threw caution to the wind and felt him bare inside of you. Harry felt your warmth and your softness around him and he gasped when he dipped into you with no barrier. You both breathed one another in deeply and watched each other as you slid together, a silent understanding of what you were doing. What you shouldn’t be doing. But the moment was too tender to break, to stop.

Harry’s shaky breath fell over your neck as his hands found your bottom and he moved into you. The slow and languid pushing and pulling, hearts pounding, and breaths deep and strained had your brain locked on him. Your hand in his hair and wet lips parted at the new connection between you.

Harry stopped moving his hips and closed his eyes before opening them again to set his beautiful gaze on yours, “Is this okay?”

You nodded and moved your hip down to push him deeper, “Please don’t stop,” you panted your words.

The look on Harry’s face was relief and appreciation, he breathed heavily through his nose when he pressed into you and pulled back to his tip and then plunged back in, “Never.”

The feeling of him entering you over and over again in such slow and steady strokes had you shaking in his arms. It was powerful and beautiful. It was better than any sex or intimacy you’d ever experienced and it was all in the way he was looking at you and touching you.

You both shifted together, in and out, and up and down, eyes taking one another in with such regard that it felt like the earth wouldn’t even get in the way of your mutual affection.

Finally, Harry dipped in and put his mouth on yours and it felt like fireworks throughout your body. You moaned into his mouth and you couldn’t stop your body from shaking, but you felt Harry shaking the same.

Harry’s whimpers and breaths into your mouth were easily interpreted by you as the seriousness of what was happening between you.

“Y/n… please…” his words were breaths against your mouth, “ahhh… fuck…” Harry didn’t even know what he was saying please for. He was out of his mind for you. Wanted to have you, keep you, make you his for good. Maybe that’s what he was asking, he couldn’t be sure. But not having a condom on was incredible, though he knew he’d regret it later. He felt every part of you as he pressed in and pulled back. Your muscles clenched and fluttered as he pushed through your walls.

“Yes, Harry… yess… oh god yes…” you felt your heart swell for the man who was fucking you. Your brain was on fire and your body was melted from the heat. You were his if he wanted you and there wasn’t any way to mistake the levity of what was happening.

Harry squeezed his eyes closed and grunted. He didn’t ever want to stop it. Didn’t want it to end. Wanted to keep going and going and be in that moment forever, but it was impossible. He was about to come. He clenched his jaw and held his breath as he tried to think of anything to distract his cock from the perfection of your pussy but it was too much.

“Fuck…” he opened his eyes and began to plunge into you faster, “M’gonna come… where do you want it?” His words came out in pants and whimpers as he felt his balls tighten up against his body.

“Harry… come inside of me, come on baby…” you tightened your leg over his hip and moved your hand down to his shoulder when you felt him pick up the cadence of how he was fucking into you. You weren’t ready to come yet, but he needed to and you wanted him to release inside of you. You also had the implant so it was unlikely you’d get pregnant. You wanted him to feel it, to pour into you as he came.

And he did. He moaned and cried out in a gasp when he released into you. You felt him throb and still inside of you and he held you close as his orgasm wiped him out. His face scrunched up like he was in pain and his mouth was wide open in lust as he pumped into you everything he had.

When you gently ran your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck you felt his sweat. He was breathing hard and had his eyes closed as you kissed his nose and then his cheek. He slowly blinked his eyes open, “I’m sorry I came so fast. It felt so good like that. I can…” you pressed your finger over his mouth and shook your head.

“No. Don’t be sorry. I loved that. You made me come already anyway,” you smiled at him. You did love it. It made you feel powerful having him come so fast like that. The power of the pussy and all.

Harry closed his eyes and breathed a laugh out of his nose and shook his head with a small smile on his face. You put your fingers back into his hair and then he opened his eyes again. His expression was more serious, more concerned.

“Don’t go, okay? Will you stay with me?”

You frowned and looked over his face and moved a hand down, brushing your knuckles on his cheek, “If you want me around I’ll stay. But does this mean I’m not in trouble anymore? For real?”

Harry shook his head, “You’re not in trouble. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll tell my boss I couldn’t find anything on you. I’ll think of something. I’m gonna be off the case anyway. I’ll ask to be moved.”

You shifted the smallest bit and moved your hand down over his chest with a big smile, “So you want me to stick around? You’re not worried I’m going to drug you and take all your money?”

Harry laughed, “I’ve got nothing for you to take really. Remember, you said it yourself, I’m not the type you go after,” Harry looked down at your mouth and back up to your eyes, “But did you think about it with me? Like even for a second? Think about stealing from me?”

You sighed and shook your head, “No. Not really because you don’t really have the kind of things that are easy to snag up. You had some cash sitting out and out of habit I ran through scenarios in my mind but I wouldn’t have gone through with it. I’m more about the risk and reward balance. What I do is high risk, so I need the reward to be higher than the risk. I like to minimize my risk as much as possible. With you, the risk is too high and the reward wouldn’t be worth it. Plus I actually like you. I don’t steal from men I sleep with as a rule.”

“Mmm… I see…” Harry squinted his eyes at you, “So you’re finally giving me a confession,” he moved his hand down to your hip and pinched the meat and you jumped.

“You said I wasn’t in trouble…” you warned him with a pinch to his chest.

“Maybe I was faking you out,” Harry grinned, but the smile was telling.

“Mhmm… okay. And you just came inside of me without a condom. Are you prepared to be a single dad while I’m in prison?” You laughed.

Harry sputtered out a chuckle and the crinkles at the sides of his eyes were so endearing. You thought he probably had the best smile you’d ever seen, “If that’s what it takes…” and then he cleared his throat, “you are on birth control, though, right?”

You rolled your eyes and tried to scoot back from him to sit up but as you’d become used to, he tightened his hold on you, not letting you move away, “What if I wasn’t? You didn’t even question me when I told you to come inside of me.”

Harry’s brows stitched together and his smile fell, “Tell me you’re on birth control.”

You raised a brow at him, “Tell me you’re ready to take on the responsibility of being a single father since you think it’s funny to joke that you were trapping me into a confession.”

Harry’s face remained stoic and serious.

You huffed a breath and set your face in a serious gaze back at him.

“You know I’m not really trying to trap you into a confession. Not anymore. You’re safe to tell me what you want. But you are on birth control. Right?”

“You weren’t concerned about this ten minutes ago. Are you saying you don’t want to bring a little Harry into this world with me?” You were teasing, obviously, but you kind of wanted to see how far you could take it.

Harry sighed and raised his brows, “You’re fucking with me.”

You smiled and nodded, “I’ve got the implant. But it was pretty dumb to forego a condom, don’t you think? What if I was trying to baby-trap you, Harry?”

Harry let out a breath through his nose and nodded, “Yeah. It was dumb. I’ve been kind of brain-dead around you if I’m honest. I’m actually a pretty good detective. Until I saw you in person.”

You grinned and smoothed your hand over his chest, feeling his hair under your palm, “I tend to make men brain-dead. It’s part of the job.”

Harry laughed and you felt his hand feather up your thigh toward the bend of your knee, “Am I a job to you?”

You shook your head, “Not at all.”

“Good. Because you’re not a job to me either. Not anymore.”

“I should probably tell you everything then, huh? Just so we have it all out on the table,” you kept your eyes on him and he nodded.

“Well, ever since I was little I liked taking things that didn’t belong to me and getting away with it…”

You began your story from the beginning and told him everything. Harry listened quietly as you both laid together naked on the bed. He knew most of what you’d told him but some of the details of how it all started were a surprise to him. And everything he learned just made him like you more.

“So,” you said to him when you’d told him your story, “still like me enough to keep around?”

Harry’s bright eyes stayed on yours the whole time and you were aware of the way he was taking you in as you spoke. You had no doubt that he still liked you. That he still wanted you around. If it wasn’t the way he was looking at you it was the way he wouldn’t let you go, how he kept you in his arms and let his palms brush over your skin as you spoke.

A goofy smile broke out on his face, “I do still like you, yes. Probably insane for it, but I want you around. If that’s okay with you.”

You pursed your lips to the side and stared into the corner of the room with a pensive look on your face, “Hmmm… let me think…”

Harry brought his fingers over your ribs and started to poke into your skin, tickling you. You both laughed as Harry continued tickling your ribs, “Tell me you want me still, Y/n, or I’m not going to stop,” he warned as he continued his tickle assault.

You guffawed loudly, trying to reign it in but your ribs were ticklish and Harry was strong and determined. You wiggled in his arms but he only dug in more and then he rolled you to your back, trapping your legs down under his thighs so you couldn’t kick at him.

“Okay!” You shouted and gasped, “Okay!! Mercy!”

Harry shook his head as his finger grazed over your sides and up under your armpits, “Nuh-uh. Tell me you want me and I’ll stop.”

You couldn’t stop your high-pitched squeal and laughter but you finally collected yourself, “Yes! I like you! Please stop!”

Harry stopped his fingers from moving over your skin but kept you held down, “Yeah? And you want to stick around with me?”

You nodded, “Yes. I do, Harry,” you smiled at him and held your hands up, ready to stop him from more tickles if necessary.

Harry’s wide grin reminded you of a kid who just learned they were going to get the Christmas present they’d been begging for, “Why are you so difficult? Why can’t you just be nice to me and answer my questions the first time? You always have to make a scene,” he laughed.

You wrapped your hands around his forearms, still not sure whether or not he was going to start tickling you again, “I am difficult. I’m never going to be easy. But you’re difficult too, Harry. You act like I’m the only one here who’s an asshole but you are too. And who wants easy anyway? Isn’t it more fun like this?”

Harry grinned down at you and cocked his head to the side, “Who wants easy anyway?”

Part 5*

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*if your tag is orange it doesn't work

#harry styles smut #harry x reader #criminal!reader #detective!harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry fanfic #firstpost

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racinggirl · 17 days

Note

You can tell that English isn’t your first language, it’s more to do with word choice and phrases used than anything grammar wise, it reads more formal than conversational. Similar to what would be expected in school/professional setting. You’ll get there, it’ll just take time.

But yeah the medical timeline was the major criticism for me, and the reason for my DNF. It made very little sense, I wasn’t sure if they had been in a coma for 4 years and then just suddenly died together or if they had been recovering and then just died. I felt like clarifications were needed, and maybe a little research if you’re going to be using something like this as a plot device. Being as polite as possible, while the idea was good, the execution was fanfiction in all the worst ways.

Look, ‘anon’. I can see where you’re coming from. As I said, it’s not my best work, I admit that. My writing has been on hold for a while due to some personal reasons.

However. That does not give you the right to be rude. You may not have wanted it to come across as rude. But the things you said were everything but nice, nor were they seen as a ‘tip’. It was straight up bullying what you did. I understand people have opinions, and you’re entitled to give your opinion, honestly, I get it. But you are not entitled to be rude about it to someone you don’t even know.

You have no idea how much I struggle with ‘hate’ because yeah, that’s what it was. You may like more ‘conversational’ fanfics, others don’t. That’s personal and that’s okay. But the hate you spit out on me is just not okay. I’ve always said my biggest fear is people not liking me, and that includes my work or the things I do.

Yes, I should have possibly put more thought into it, which is why I already mentioned the warnings and the fact I wasn’t sure if this was something I’d be proud of. But straight up saying it’s ‘poorly google translated’ or that it’s the worst fic you’ve read? That’s not okay. I’m trying. I really am, and next time, think before you slide into someone’s inbox and spit stuff like this out.

There’s so many people supporting me, which I highly appreciate. I needed that. Because even though I know I shouldn’t let some random anon determine how I’m feeling. I do. And it sucks. You don’t know my story, so stop being rude about it.

I absolutely have no intention to be rude, and this isn’t who I normally am. But honestly, if you have the guts, stop being an anon. It’s pathetic. If you hate on someone’s work, be clean about it and don’t hide behind that ‘anon’ button. If you really mean good, and you were just trying to give me tips (which I’d appreciate if you had done it in a more polite way, even if you came in as an ‘anon’), that’s more genuine doing so in replies, sending me a dm so nobody can hate on you for your tips if that’s what you’re scared of.

Just. Don’t. Do. This.

It happened now, you can’t take it back. I’m not expecting you to apologize, because I don’t need it. I’m just hoping you learn from this, because so have I. I will try to not let some anon come at me, calling my stories shitty, when all the haters can do is hide behind that anon button and name out the things that could hurt someone’s feelings. It’s. Rude.

As for this, I hope your day will be better than it was when you woke up or when you wrote that shitty ‘tip’, because I feel sorry for you.

Thank you.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #anon reply #rude anon #f1 imagines #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris

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asordinaryppl · 1 month

Text

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 13: Budding Spring - Episode 16: My Allies

Izumi: That should be all the groceries.

Tsumugi: Ah, right… I ran out of fertilizer…

Izumi: Should we go to the florist?

Tsumugi: No, they’re kinda heavy. I’ll ask someone for help and go with them.

Izumi: Oh, speaking of florists, I often pass by a shop where a fan of ours lives—

Towa: …

Izumi: Hm? Towa-kun?

Towa: Ah…

Izumi: Are you okay? Do you feel bad?

[Towa’s stomach growls]

Towa: I wanna eat… rice…

[Towa collapses]

Izumi: Eh?

Tsumugi: … Did he just collapse?

Towa: Thank you for the meal!

Tsumugi: Looks like you were starving.

Izumi: But your aunt is that florist nearby, right? How did this happen…?

Towa: To be honest… I ran away from home.

Sakuya: You ran away!?

Sakyo: Reminds me of a certain someone.

Azami: There’s a bunch of guys like that here.

Kumon: Ahaha, that’s true~

Tenma: You’re one of them.

Izumi: Did something happen at home?

Towa: …

Masumi: If nothing happened, then go back home.

Sakuya: Now, now. The situation might be complicated.

Towa: … I’m sorry for all the fuss.

Towa: … I’ve always admired you all. I’ve always wanted to be someone who’s passionate about something.

Towa: I’ve done everything half-heartedly and without pushing myself all my life.

Sakuya: … Why?

Towa: … Because I didn’t want to disappoint myself.

Towa: I think I don’t want to try hard, fail and realize I’m useless.

Towa: I’ll feel embarrassed. It scares me. I think it'll kill me.

Towa: But when I saw the Spring Troupe’s, MANKAI Company’s performance, entirely by chance, I became obsessed with how bright everyone sparkles.

Towa: I thought to myself that I want to try hard like this, I want to sparkle and accomplish something.

Towa: But I just don’t know what that something is…

Towa: Anyway, I wanted to be close to where everyone is, so I changed schools and applied to Hanagaku last minute and came to Veludo Way.

Izumi: That’s why you’re here…!?

Banri: That’s pretty impressive. The standard deviation there’s pretty high.

Towa: I studied more than I had my entire life before that!

Sakuya: You’re really good at taking the initiative.

Masumi: You’re reckless.

Towa: Although I really wanted to be close to everyone here, there’s one more reason…

Towa: Everyone in my family spoils me, and they’re always ready to help me with anything and everything.

Towa: They always listen to my selfish requests, and my friends get jealous when I tell them, so I wondered if it was okay for me to stay that way…

Towa: No one argued when I changed schools.

Towa: They just told me to do what I wanted to do, and even found me a private tutor and a cram school.

Towa: They also asked my aunt to let me live with her.

Towa: My family is kind, and I love them, but I hate how spoiled I become when I’m with them. So I decided to leave.

Yuki: You’ve got guts.

Tsumugi: So they support your choices. That’s a good family you have.

Towa: But… It seems they thought I’d immediately go back home.

Towa: “It’s not like he has anything he really wants to do.”, “It’s unlikely he can make it on his own.”

Towa: When I heard my aunt and my mom have a conversation like that over the phone, I got mad and ran out.

Towa: … Everything they said was right, though. All I’ve got is my fixation, and I don’t have anything I actually want to do.

Towa: I can’t do anything by myself…

Sakuya: I don’t think that’s true.

Citron: You have already made it this far.

Chikage: You’ve even gotten into your beloved company’s kitchen.

Towa: Ah…

Itaru: You studied hard, got into Hanagaku, and stepped into your sacred place. Isn’t that proof enough?

Sakuya: I think it’s amazing that you’ve stepped into a whole new world all by yourself.

Itaru: There’s no need to rush. Everyone eventually finds what they want to do.

Tsumugi: I think Banri-kun knows that better than anyone.

Banri: This kinda thing’s got to do with your timing and, well, your connections. No point in rushin’ it.

Juza: Though, you were just tryin’ shit out on a whim. (1)

Banri: Ahh?

Izumi: It’s not like you can’t do anything.

Izumi: If we hadn’t met you, we would’ve never thought of the workshop.

Towa: … Thank you very much. I’m sorry for troubling you.

Izumi: Your aunt is probably worried too, so contact her. Can you do it yourself?

Towa: Yes.

Towa: — Ah, I’m getting notifications from my chat.

shiki: contact us

Kar: don’t die

Iv: wanna come @ my place?

shiki: stay calm and don’t rush things!

Izumi: Chat?

Towa: A group chat I have with friends I met from a game called “Bloom Game”.

Towa: We talk about all sorts of things in BlooCha– the in-game chat.

Towa: We’ve never met, and we don’t know what each other looks like, but because of that we can talk about anything, and I feel like we’re always connected.

Towa: To me, that’s my home away from home.

Izumi: I see. Make sure you contact them too.

Towa: Okay.

Sakuya: Should I take you back home?

Towa: It’s okay. It’s pretty close, and my aunt said she’ll pick me up on the way.

Sakuya: I see. Be careful on your way home.

Citron: If you run away from home again, come here again!

Masumi: You don’t have to do that.

Tsuzuru: We have got to be the only place that welcomes runaways like it’s nothing. But I guess a place like that is good too.

Izumi: See you.

Towa: Thank you for everything! Good luck on your next performance! I’m looking forward to it!

[Towa walks away]

Tsuzuru: Our next performance, huh…

Itaru: We gotta face our problems head-on too, eventually.

Chikage: … That we do.

[Phone blips]

Sakuya: Ah… I have to cut this out and reply…

Sakuya: *sigh* Something that’s like us, huh…

Tenma: Does the next Romeo say lines like that?

Sakuya: Eh? Ah, no, he doesn’t.

Tenma: Seems like rehearsals aren’t going so smoothly.

Sakuya: … Yuzo-san watched our practice today.

Sakuya: He told us to think again what kind of plays the Spring Troupe does, and what the debut performance means to us.

Sakuya: We’ve gained lots of experience, but there’s something we lack compared to back then…

Sakuya: Even though, even our feelings are stronger than they were back then.

Tenma: So something’s missing, huh? There were a lot of those things in the original RomiJuli

Tenma: The acting was rough at best, and lots of parts would make you cringe, but still… I wonder what it was that made it so sparkling.

Tenma: All of you seemed to be enjoying the new world of theater you had just discovered with all your heart.

Sakuya: The new world…

Tenma: When I saw that, I was also drawn to it– it made me think it was time for me to leap into the world of theater, too.

Sakuya: When you praised RomiJuli after you joined, I was really happy.

Tenma: Come to think of it, you had to overcome lots of hurdles during the rehearsals for your debut, right?

Tenma: I had asked you how you did that during the Summer Troupe’s rehearsals.

Sakuya: I remember…

Sakuya: Back then, Yuzo-san had told us we don’t understand the first thing about theater—...

Sakuya: That’s it! Thank you, Tenma-kun! I’m going to get to know the stage one more time!

Tenma: — Sure.

previous episode | masterpost | next episode

NOTES:

(1) i wasn't sure what juza's original line (こっちにとっては当たり屋の交通事故みたいなやつだったけどな) meant exactly, i assumed he's talking about banri's journey of self-discovery in act 11, and made it something with that in mind

#a3!#translation #a3! translation #sakuya sakuma #tenma sumeragi #tsumugi tsukioka #izumi tachibana #towa ichinoe #+ more

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khazadspoon · 2 months

Text

Day 4 entry two days late because I’m a nervous Nelly but now I’m brave enough to post. Jonah kisses Mr Favor because he is dealing with some internal stuff.

———

Jonah was drunk, or at least well on his way to being drunk. That was the only explanation really. Or at least that’s what Gil told himself in the days after.

He helped the man back to his room with an arm around his waist, smiling softly at the quiet and tuneless humming. Jonah was an odd fellow, keeping to himself for the most part but coming out of his shell when you caught him alone. Gil liked him. He was good at following orders, yes, but he was also sharp eyed and keenly intelligent. But there was something about him that was… different.

Rowdy knew, or he had implied as such, but whatever it was had remained a secret. In time, if the man wanted to tell him, Gil would listen. For now he let it be. Men’s secrets were their own, after all.

He nudged the hotel room door open with his hip and guided Jonah through, smiling a little more at the muttered curse as Jonah stumbled to take off his boots. They were scuffed and well worn. Gil thought they must be very comfortable, soft as butter perhaps. He reached down and helped the man stand up straight.

“Here, let me-”

He stopped mid sentence, his attention caught by Jonah staring up at him with wide, almost grey-blue eyes.

“I think,” Jonah started, his voice breathy, “if it had been you, I might’ve been happy to be a bride, for a while at least.”

Gil blinked at the words. They burrowed into his mind and settled there like dormice.

Then Jonah kissed him.

His lips were soft, softer than they had any right to be. His hip and shoulder were warm under Gil’s hands, his breath a gentle sigh as he stretched up to reach Gil’s lips.

Despite himself, despite how he knew it was a bad idea (a terrible idea, a dangerous idea, liable to get one or both of them badly beaten at least should anyone find out) he found himself kissing back. His hands moved, arms wrapping around the shorter man until they were pressed together, his neck bent so he could kiss him easier, and the shaky moan that came from Jonah’s chest made his gut twist pleasantly. He felt Jonah’s hands on his shoulders, felt the warmth of a tongue against his lips and made a soft sound in his throat. He parted his lips, let Jonah in and tasted the rum they had been drinking, heat blooming somewhere in his stomach.

It had been so long since he had-

And then it was over. Jonah tore himself away and turned to face the bed, his back to Gil and the door. It looked like he was shaking.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I… just go.”

Gil stood for a moment, lips tingling, his hands still halfway raised where he had been holding on to the man. He could see the tremor in Jonah’s hands as he folded his jacket. The urge to step forward, to reach out and take Jonah in his arms again struck him like a mule kick to the stomach.

Jonah whirled, something cold and broken in his eyes. “Please, Mister Favor, go! Leave me!”

Gil shut his mouth, swallowed, and turned away. The door shut behind him with a click that was almost deafening in the quiet hallway. He went back down the stairs and to the saloon across the street, eyes glancing up to the dark window where Jonah’s room was. The lamp was doused. The curtains were shut.

“Everything alright, boss?” Rowdy asked when he walked in and sat down.

“Mm.”

Rowdy didn’t look convinced. Gil didn’t blame him.

“Well if you change your mind, I’m all ears.”

He took the beer from in front of his ramrod and drank deeply, hoping that if he could wash the taste of Jonah from his mouth he could somehow get rid of the warmth of him too, and forget the broken pain in his eyes.

Rowdy didn’t complain as the drink was taken. He waved the bartender over and ordered another, rubbed his cheek with one hand and drummed his fingers on the wooden bar top.

“Somethin’ just happened. I don’t know… it probably ain’t gonna mean anything but-” Gil shook his head and felt a sigh work it’s way up his throat. He felt dazed. “I don’t know.”

Rowdy frowned, his eyes far too keen for a man who had spent the better half of the day in the saloon. “What do you mean?”

“Not here.”

He followed Gil from the saloon, the questions he was obviously holding in clear on his face.

When Gil explained what had happened, the surprise Gil had expected didn’t come.

“I mean, he didn’t exactly hide it, boss.”

Gil stared at his ramrod. “Uhh…”

“You mean, you really didn’t notice?” Rowdy raised an eyebrow. “Come on, boss, you can’t be that dense.”

Had it been any other moment, Gil would have considered smacking Rowdy on the back of the head for the comment. As it was, he just stared down at his boots. “I… I really didn’t notice. But now I know, it’s hard not to.”

They walked through the darkened town and stopped by the stable. Rowdy glanced at him a little nervously, the expression strange on his usually cute face. “I know it ain’t my place, but I feel I gotta say something. You be careful with him. He’s-”

“Older than you,” Gil interrupted with a small smile. “Than me, too, by a few years.”

“Let me finish!”

Gil raised his hands, suitably admonished.

“He ain’t like us. This,” Rowdy gestured to the town around them, “this ain’t his life! He should be in some city sippin’ fancy tea with his pinky- well, his left pinky sticking up.”

“I know, Rowdy. I know.” He rubbed his face, fingers lingering on his lips for a moment. “You coming back to camp?”

Rowdy nodded.

Gil glanced back over his shoulder as the rode away, eyes finding the little hotel room. Hopefully Jonah would sleep the memory away. He wouldn’t, he was sure he’d spend most of the night thinking about it, but… maybe Jonah would.

#rawhide #rawhidefanevent #rawhidefanweek #gil favor #Jonah oc

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phoenix-downer · 6 months

Text

I Really Could Stay Chapter 2

I Really Could Stay: ~1250 words. Kairi finds out Sora won't be home in time for Christmas and wonders about their future together.

Story Info: Sora/Kairi. Set Post-Canon. Alternating POVs. Established Relationship. Light Angst, Romance, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Christmas.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

No matter the time of year, the Mysterious Tower always felt eerie and spooky. The sky was a miasma of multicolored gasses and the grass outside was unnaturally vibrant. It never withered and wasn’t covered in a blanket of snow the way Twilight Town currently was. If Kairi didn’t know today’s date, she would’ve thought it was the middle of summer. This place never changed.

After hitting her pauldron to make her Keyblade armor disappear, she dutifully climbed up the winding spiral staircase of the tower. The halls were empty except for Donald and Goofy, but she knew Master Yen Sid was well aware of her arrival. Time to report to him that her latest mission had been a success.

She found him seated at his desk at the top of the tower as per usual. He was very pleased by her news, but his news for her was not so pleasing.

“Sora isn’t back yet?” She couldn’t help the disappointment in her voice. It was December 23rd already, and she’d rushed back from her mission in the hopes of surprising him and going home together. He was supposed to be finished. Had something happened?

“My apologies, Kairi,” Master Yen Sid said, and to his credit, he did sound sorry. “Something of the utmost importance came up, and I had to send him and Riku on another mission. I don’t expect them back until the day after Christmas.”

“I see.” Well, there was no point waiting around the Mysterious Tower for them then. Donald and Goofy were still here, so she’d ask them to give her a ride home. That seemed less lonely than taking the Lanes Between by herself. And at least she could spend Christmas with her parents if not her boyfriend.

As she walked down the stairs, she pulled out her Gummiphone and sent Sora a quick text.

Hey, sorry you got sent on another mission 🙁

His response was fast. You’re sorry? I should be the one apologizing. Sorry I hadn’t yet, Riku and I just landed a little while ago

Not your fault this happened 😔

What if I told Master Yen Sid no one of these days?

I know you wouldn’t. You have too big of a heart for helping people

There was a long pause, and then the … typing symbol popped up. I know. That’s why we’re in this mess

Hey, don’t you ever apologize for your big heart 😤

Sorry, gotta go. We’ll talk about this more later, I promise

Kairi sighed and slipped her phone into her pocket. Not even their text conversations were safe from interruptions. She found Donald and Goofy and joined them on the Gummi Ship. They were happy to give her a ride home, but now she was wondering if it would’ve been better to be alone with her thoughts.

“Gawrsh, Kairi, I’m sorry Sora ain’t back yet,” Goofy said, eyeing her sympathetically as Donald steered the ship through the stars.

“It’s okay,” she said as she worked on her latest project, a knitted red scarf for Sora. He complained about the cold when he was sent to wintry worlds, and she wanted to give him something that would help. The matching cap was already finished.

“Master Yen Sid is working him to the bone,” Donald muttered. “Sora’s gonna burn out at this rate.”

“Him and Riku both. Gawrsh, they’ve been on a whole lotta missions lately for a feller.”

“How do you guys balance personal time with work?” Kairi asked sadly. Sora was definitely struggling with it, and so was she. Each time they said goodbye was harder than the last. Her gut instinct was that this life just wasn’t sustainable long term. Something would have to change.

Goofy scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Well, it helps a lot that my son Maxie is grown. It was a lot harder when he was just a kid. His mom died when he was pretty young, so there was a lot of me stayin’ at home with him ‘til he was older.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Kairi said. No words could ever make up for a loss like that, but she still wanted to express her condolences.

Goofy smiled sadly. “Thank you, Kairi. My wife was a special lady, and I miss her a whole lot. But it doesn’t hurt so bad anymore, and Maxie and I still have each other.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Donald, what about you? How do you manage?”

“Daisy and I have a very clear arrangement,” Donald said.

Goofy put his hands over his mouth, but he couldn’t contain his chuckles. “Only after you missed one too many dates.”

Donald shot Goofy a glare. “When I’m home, we go on dates every day. When I’m gone, I send her letters at least once a week. And it helps that she’s got lots of stuff to do around the castle to help Queen Minnie.”

“I’m glad that works for you,” Kairi said. She and Sora texted each other all the time via Gummiphone and tried to talk on the phone every day. But it just wasn’t the same as being with him.

And now that they were older, she wondered what their future would be. They wanted to get married, but when? And if they had kids, she would be out of commission for at least a year per kid from the pregnancy, childbirth, and postpartum recovery alone. That meant she wouldn’t be able to go on any missions during that time. If Sora wasn’t around, she’d be like a sitting duck for any kidnapping attempts in the later stages of any pregnancies, too. And once the kids were born, it wasn’t like she could just dump them on her parents or Sora’s parents and go running off whenever she felt like it. Kids needed their mothers around.

There was no getting around it. Kids meant she’d be giving up her life of adventuring and Keyblade combat and all that entailed for good.

Was she ready for that? Would she ever be? She sure wasn’t right now, but she couldn’t help but worry about the future.

Say she was ready several years from now. A bleak future appeared in her mind, one where she was home alone with the kids, for months and years on end, because Sora had to constantly keep leaving to fight. What kind of life would that be? He’d have to give up everything too if he wanted to be a good dad.

What if he didn’t want that?

“What’s on your mind?” Goofy asked. “I can practically hear the wheels turnin’ from here.”

The knitting needles clacked together as she started a new row. “The future.”

Donald chuckled. “Now that’s a scary topic.”

“You’re thinkin’ about Sora, aren’t you?” Goofy said.

“Yeah. I miss him a lot when we’re separated like this. Especially over the holidays.”

“Well, maybe you can do somethin’ special together when he gets back. I know it doesn’t compare to him bein’ here on Christmas, but it’s the time you spend together that counts.”

“Yeah! This one time I was a day late for Daisy’s birthday. She wasn’t happy with me, but I made up for it with an extra special date.”

“An extra special date, huh?” Kairi set the knitting needles and partially-formed scarf down on her lap. “I could do that.”

The conversation turned to fun date ideas after that, and by the time they dropped her off, she was feeling slightly better. Still, what she wouldn’t give to have Sora home for good, safe and sound.

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yakumtsaki · 2 years

Photo

Oh fuck, I forgot we had Headmaster B.J coming today. You’re gonna love our new zombie!

-Right this way, sir. -You people have a butler now? I remember when you were eating out of the litterboxes.

Well, some of us still do!

Case in point.

-Hiiiiii!

Sugar, please remove yourself from B.J’s sight, I don’t want you two interacting until after we’ve been accepted and he can’t take it back.

We instruct Glitchy Butler #4 to make lobster-

-and I send Sophie to greet B.J, as we’ve unironically reached the point where SOPHIE MIGUEL is the most stable and likable person in this family.

-Aw if it isn’t headmaster B.J! Do you remember me? -Oh I’m sorry, I don’t. -You expelled me for ‘sociopathic behavior’! -We pride ourselves on having so many sociopathic students that I still can’t quite place you. -I made you eat you bowtie! -Sophie Miguel??? Wow, you’re all grown up!

GB4 (Glitchy Butler #4) burnt the goddamn lobster, USELESS-

-so we’ll have to stall with the tour until Jojo can make a replacement!

-This is our living room, complete with the kids untouched homeworks in the background. -Amazing!

Jojo will you pick up the pace on this turkey please??

-It’s hard to concentrate with Sandy Fairchild wailing zombieshly in the mausoleum.

Oh God, she’s still not over that crap? It’s been 3 hours.

-This is my father-in-law ripping out an animal’s guts. Unusually, this one is already dead. -Incredible!

-And this is my other father-in-law, who is currently on the 4th day of a sleep binge. -I’ve never been this impressed!

Ok B.J you can tone it down, Victoria is dead she can’t hurt you. -Not taking any chances!

-Ah, Headmaster B.J, how are you? -Little Jojo Union.. my star student. I had such high hopes for you, and then you stabbed me in the back. -I’m sorry sir, but to be fair, I didn’t hit anything vital.

-How’s the turkey, Headmaster? Feel free to express your opinion in the form of score points. -I have to be honest, Sophie, I don’t feel so well.. I’m hearing a strange sound..

-..Some sort of ghostly meowing but coming from a human?? As if someone has fallen down a well and is calling for help in meows???

-Headmaster B.J, that’s very weird and specific, maybe we should postpone until you’ve seen a doctor!💗 -Meow.. meow meowwww~

-Meow meow... meooooowwww~ -Grandpa will you cut it the fuck out, huhu?🌸

-Cyn, why don’t you tell Headmaster B.J about how you all you wish for in this life is an elderly gentleman?

-Oh it’s true, Headmaster, there’s just something so magical about grey hair, loose skin, and enlarged prostates!💗

-Ok, I’ve heard enough.. -Fuck, we went too far, Jojo! -We’re gonna be fine!

-You’re in! -I knew a little stabbing wouldn’t come between BFFs like us! -Yes, that’s exactly the reason I’m accepting your grandchildren, Jojo.

-Call me, Cyn! -I will, handsome, huhu! Now where was I? Right🌸..

-Donnie, I’m so sorry for cheating on you!💗 -You seriously stopped to cheat on me in the middle of your cheating apology? -And I will apologize for that immediately!🌸

-Je suis àwakêoix!!!

Oh Wyatt good, I have a humiliating and undignified task for you.

-Grôssòix!!!

I know, I know, I’m sorry, but your creativity points doomed you into being the one to immortalize Don’s mug.

Speaking of immortality, I forgot to explain to you guys how the Sandy zombie shit came to be. So I had been wanting to resurrect Sandy and send her back to towniehood for a while now because a) I felt bad for her b) her evil ghost was driving me crazy. However we’re still kinda broke post-renovation and I was very resistant to spending our hard earned cash on the reaper phone for her.

But then we get the genie lamp and I see the free-of-charge resurrect option and I’m like oh wow what a loophole!!! Little did I know genie resurrections only make zombies, so clearly we got what we paid for. Let me also tell you, the main reason I felt bad for her as a ghost was she kept throwing a family aspiration bubble thought and I was like man, Jojo murdered this poor family townie and then she’s damned to watching our terrible children and never having any of her own. But now that she’s ‘alive’, it turns out that Sandy is ROMANCE and was deceiving me the whole time.

- T̾H̾A̾T̾’̾S̾ ̾R̾I̾G̾H̾T̾,̾ ̾I̾ ̾K̾N̾E̾W̾ ̾I̾N̾ ̾T̾H̾I̾S̾ ̾M̾I̾S̾O̾G̾Y̾N̾I̾S̾T̾I̾C̾ ̾S̾O̾C̾I̾E̾T̾Y̾ ̾Y̾O̾U̾’̾D̾ ̾F̾E̾E̾L̾ ̾M̾O̾R̾E̾ ̾I̾N̾C̾L̾I̾N̾E̾D̾ ̾T̾O̾ ̾R̾E̾S̾U̾R̾R̾E̾C̾T̾ ̾M̾E̾ ̾I̾F̾ ̾I̾ ̾W̾A̾N̾T̾E̾D̾ ̾T̾O̾ ̾B̾E̾ ̾A̾ ̾M̾O̾T̾H̾E̾R̾,̾ ̾B̾E̾C̾A̾U̾S̾E̾ ̾I̾T̾’̾S̾ ̾C̾O̾N̾S̾I̾D̾E̾R̾E̾D̾ ̾W̾O̾R̾T̾H̾I̾E̾R̾ ̾T̾H̾A̾N̾ ̾M̾E̾ ̾W̾A̾N̾T̾I̾N̾G̾ ̾T̾O̾ ̾B̾E̾ ̾A̾ ̾B̾I̾M̾B̾O̾ 🧟

Lies, I’d feel also bad if you were romance watching Cyn whore around! Plus you don’t even wanna be a bimbo, you wanna be a celebrity chef, which. lmao. Sandy the Celebrity Chef Zombie.

-T̷H̷E̷R̷E̷’̷S̷ ̷A̷ ̷B̷I̷G̷ ̷M̷A̷R̷K̷E̷T̷ ̷F̷O̷R̷ ̷I̷T̷🧟

A big market for what? Worms and rotting body parts in people’s food?? Maybe if you market exclusively to Jojo.

-O͎H͎ ͎A͎L͎L͎-͎P͎O͎W͎E͎R͎F͎U͎L͎ ͎G͎E͎N͎I͎E͎,͎ ͎H͎E͎A͎R͎ ͎M͎Y͎ ͎P͎L͎E͎A͎.͎ ͎I͎ ͎W͎I͎S͎H͎ ͎T͎O͎ ͎N͎O͎T͎ ͎B͎E͎ ͎A͎ ͎Z͎O͎M͎B͎I͎E͎ ͎A͎N͎Y͎M͎O͎R͎E͎,͎ ͎C͎A͎U͎G͎H͎T͎ ͎B͎E͎T͎W͎E͎E͎N͎ ͎L͎I͎F͎E͎ ͎A͎N͎D͎ ͎D͎E͎A͎T͎H͎.͎ ͎E͎I͎T͎H͎E͎R͎ ͎R͎E͎T͎U͎R͎N͎ ͎M͎E͎ ͎T͎O͎ ͎D͎U͎S͎T͎ ͎O͎R͎ ͎L͎E͎T͎ ͎M͎E͎ ͎T͎A͎S͎T͎E͎ ͎L͎I͎F͎E͎’͎S͎ ͎G͎L͎O͎R͎Y͎🧟 -CAN’T DO IT SIS🧞 -₣Ʉ₵₭ ɎØɄ🧟

-OK HERE, I’LL BLESS YOU WITH BEAUTY INSTEAD. YOU COULD ALSO BLESS YOURSELF WITH IT BY SHOWERING🧞

Sophito is such a goddamn knowledge sim even though he hasn’t rolled for an aspiration yet, he’s OBSESSED with Sandy and all he wants to do is interact with her.

-Hi Sandy, my monthly physics scholarship check came, I want you to have it! -W̴H̴Y̴?̴🧟 -Buy something nice for your mausoleum room! I want you to feel at home! Please don’t leave us!

Sophito she’s a dishwasher zombie, not a lot of places she can go.

-She’s the coolest thing that’s even happened to me!!!

-Wow Sandy, those brain sandwiches are fantastic! I’m sure great success awaits you in the culinary world!

-Hi Sandy, I know it’s 2 a.m but here are some facts about elephants that just can’t wait until morning!

-Sandy, Sandy, I got an A++! They invented it for me! -G͎O͎O͎D͎ ͎J͎O͎B͎,͎ ͎K͎I͎D͎D͎O͎🧟

Why so glum, Soph?

-I’m worried about Sophito. He was born the problem child-

He was what.

-7 nice points??

Oh brother.

-And now all this Zombie Fairchild crap is making him even kinder and more open-minded. This ends now!

-Alright, let me adjust the mic here.. stupid childphobic standards..

-So I say to you, fellow students, that we should abandon competing for grades, and instead focus on those among us who are struggling academically! I will personally lead a workshop-

-Sophito, what the hell is this? -Oh hi mom! It’s my assembly speech, I’m going to start a workshop for studying tips! -Fuck my life. Sophito, I will only ask you this once, and I want the absolute truth. Have you been using your powers for good? -What powers?? -The brainchad powers you inherited from me! -Well, that’s a very arrogant way of putting it! Everyone is special- -OH GOD.

-Now listen here son, with great power comes great responsibility.. towards YOURSELF. -That doesn’t sound right. -WELL IT IS. Now, I love you, and you could never make me ashamed of you, but those 7 nice points of yours are just about to do the trick. -I’m sorry about our philosophical differences, mom, but I believe kindness is its own reward! -Ok Sophito, I didn’t wanna do this, I thought you were too young to hear it, but I see there is no other way to change your mind.. The only other person in this family with nice points..

-..is grandpa Wyatt. -WHAT. NO. -Yes, son. Those are the genes we’re up against. Do you want to be like him? -What must I do? -Go forth and lose those nice points, my son. It is the only way. -How? How do I do that?? -The power of turbochaddery flows in your veins, no thanks to your mother. When the time comes, listen to your true, empty heart!

-I will do it, mom! I’ll do whatever it takes to avoid grandpa Wyatt’s fate!! -I believe in you, my child. -My quest begins!

As Sophito embarks on the journey of a lifetime, Sandy returns from her job and we face some routing issues with her carpool and Jojo’s wolf simping tent.

-Move it, old man! -Go around, you stupid moron! -I CAN’T go around, it’s hardcoded in the game, move your tent! -NO

-I can stay here honking all night, crazy geezer! -Do your worst! I’ll freeze to death before I move!

-Man, Sandy sure has it made living in the mausoleum! It’s the only place I can escape this infernal honking, and it reminds me of my childhood, AND, free catghost fighting entertainment!

-FUCK YOU, VICTOR -NO, FUCK YOU, ALEGRA

So nice of Sandy to offer her bed to you!

#gen 3 #ts2

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patiencetakestyme · 1 year

Text

A Fair Price to Pay, Chapter 4

Dinner was a relatively silent affair. They ate in silence. They drank their drinks in silence. They paid their tab in silence.

Lucy kept glancing at the proprietors populating the establishment. Lockwood found himself wondering if she recognized them—if she felt she could not speak freely as a result of knowing them. Regardless, whether she was worried about feeding the gossip mill or she simply needed time to reflect, he refused to push her; she would come to him, when she was ready.

After dinner, they climbed the stairs to seek out their room. Their bags were strewn about on the bed, just where they had left them when they had dropped them off earlier. Lucy, seemingly finally free to express herself, picked up her bag by the handle and tossed it across the room. She took a seat on the edge of the bed, occupying the space physically vacated by her bag moments prior. She brought her hands to her forehead and weaved them through the hair at the crown of her head.

Lockwood drifted to claim a seat next to her. In stark contrast to the actions she had taken, he gently placed his bag upon the floor. Lucy was lost right now, and he wanted nothing more than to be the calming force that could, hopefully, help her.

Acutely, Lockwood recalled the concerns Lucy had expressed about seeing her mother before they had traveled to Cheviot Hills. She had told him that nothing could make this conversation tolerable—not even him.

He could admit it—privately, at least: his ego had been hurt, hearing that. He didn’t like the idea of something he couldn’t do, especially when it came to helping her. It had made him feel a bit stubborn, he could admit it. He had become resolute in his goal: he was going to give her a platform on which to speak, and he would be the one to make it tolerable; he would help her pick up the pieces when it was done.

Well, here they were. The confrontation had come and gone. They hadn’t even gotten past the entryway. He hadn’t even gotten to see if any of the sisters were in, and dinner had become a relic, a ridiculous idea of a long-forgotten plan for the night.

He would help her; he knew he would do it. But he could admit that he had underestimated—not only the situation, but just how mean Lucy’s mother could be, and just how impactful that could be on Lucy.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he turned his focus where it should be: Lucy. He placed a hand on her back, rubbing comfortingly in slow, even strokes, up and down her spine. He half expected her to reject him: to push him away in a method of rejecting any form of sensitivity. That was what combat-Lucy would’ve done.

But quickly, he realized he didn’t have combat-Lucy sitting in front of him. No, this was the Lucy that wore her heart on her sleeve; this was the Lucy that was easily stirred to be competitive, the Lucy that was easily stirred to be unpredictable, the Lucy that was easily stirred to lose her self-esteem.

This was the Lucy that showed him how much she needed him. She fell into him, her head coming to rest upon his shoulder. His eyes drifted shut as, for perhaps the first time, he realized she needed him just as much as he needed her.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I never should’ve brought you here.”

“No,” she started, and he was shocked to hear some sniffling. Was she crying? That was even more of a rarity when it came to Lucy. “You were right to do it. I’m going to be messed up from this for weeks,” she conceded, and it hit him like a bullet to the gut. “But it needed to happen. I have a lot to…process with her, obviously,” she hesitated, before settling on her choice in words.

“I don’t suppose you’re feeling like sharing what some of that material is?” he asked, and even he could hear the charming smile in his voice. It worked, albeit only partially; she scoffed slightly against his shoulder.

“Not tonight. Tonight, I just want to sleep.”

They went about their usual routine: changing of clothes, brushing of teeth, entering of bed. Within twenty minutes, Lucy was asleep and snoring. But there was very little sleep to be had for Lockwood.

He laid awake for hours, his eyes glued to the shitty ceiling of the Swan Hotel. Flashes of the conversations with Jacobs and Lucy’s mother haunted him. He had been the one to suggest they come here, and he knew how persuasive he could be: it might’ve appeared to be a suggestion on the surface, but, ultimately, it was not; Lucy had inevitably felt as though she had no other choice than to bend to his will and come here.

And here they had come, and here he had paid the price for his arrogance. He had thought talking to these people would help her: would help her see the deeper meanings behind her struggles.

Lockwood had a theory. Lucy struggled with communicating with women. He was almost certain that this was due to how her mother had treated her. She had an inherent, intrinsic bias against women: a preconceived notion that they would treat her poorly, just as her mother always had.

Lockwood had thought that, perhaps, talking to her mother would help reveal this bias and its origins to Lucy. Now, though, he feared he had played a hand that, ultimately, had resulted in simply cementing those views.

As for her relationship with Jacobs… It was interesting, Lockwood could admit it. He had treated her just as poorly if not worse than her mother had, but yet, Lucy’s ability to form relationships with men had not faltered. Sure, she was never one to trust an adult—something she had both her mother and Jacobs to thank for—but she could still build trust and communicate well with men.

Why was that? What was different between the two in her mind? Lockwood spent the night using his considerate powers of perception to not only riddle out the answer to this question—that was the easy part—but to also find a way to help Lucy reach the conclusion as well. By the first light of the morning, he thought he just might have an answer. Now, the question that remained was merely how to bring Lucy to that same realization.

They had one more stop to make this morning, and Lockwood believed that it was perhaps the most important one of all: the memorial in the town square to all fallen agents that had hailed from Cheviot Hills. Norrie’s name was listed there, as well as all the other agents that had died due to Jacobs’s negligence at Wythburn Mill.

This was where he’d make his final play. This was where he’d talk to her: where he’d try to help her see the deeper meaning to everything she struggled with.

When it was all said and done, Lockwood got perhaps an hour or two of sleep. He was awoken by the sounds and sensations of Lucy stirring in bed next to him. He should’ve been tired, given that he had only fallen asleep just as dawn had broken a meager few hours prior, but he was anything but: he was driven by purpose, and he found that he was eager to get up, even as he felt the scratch of fatigue itching at the back of his eyes.

“Good morning,” he said on a yawn as he turned to face an already awake Lucy.

“Should we get up? Try to catch the earlier train? Get out of this hellhole?” she asked. Her enthusiasm to leave on the first available train was abundantly clear, even in his fatigued state.

Lockwood shook his head. “We have one more stop to make, remember?”

She was silent. To Lockwood, it seemed she had most certainly remembered; she had merely been hoping he had forgotten.

In an hour, they had packed up the meager few possessions that they had brought with them, checked out of the Swan Hotel—hopefully to never return again—grabbed a breakfast sandwich and a cup of tea, and were on their way.

They had plenty of time. While they may have missed the earliest train of the day, the one they had originally planned to take, the nine o’clock back to London, would not board for another hour. As the memorial was mere steps away from the Swan Hotel, Lockwood, satirically, anticipated no problems with travel.

As they approached the memorial, Lockwood found that he could literally feel yet another change in demeanor overcoming Lucy. She was typically quite quiet, except when she was feeling indignant at one—undeniably justified—slight or another, but her silence had hit new peaks here, as they came to a stop in front of the memorial. It almost felt…reverent, he settled on, and as he watched her approach the engraving of Norrie’s name and run her fingers gingerly over the lettering, he knew he had chosen just the right word.

Norrie White.

There were no further details: no date of birth or date of death, no declaration of cause—even if it would’ve been heinously inaccurate, thanks to Jacobs—no individualized statement representing her years and dedication of service. It was so cold, so detached: she was but one name amongst many.

Lockwood had never known her, obviously, but even he could admit that he pitied her, seeing the lack of elegance and flair to the memorial.

Lucy lingered, her fingers locked in place on Norrie’s name for several minutes. Her head and shoulders were slumped. He suspected she was crying, but she seemed to wish to do so privately; she issued no invitation for him to converse with her, so he merely stood by her side as she grieved privately, choosing to wait until she was ready for them to grieve together.

The sign he had been waiting for happened; her body language changed: she took a step back and angled her body to face him. But her eyes—her eyes still evaded him, were still locked on Norrie’s name. There were no tears, but he could see that she was visibly upset.

“She was…” Lucy trailed off, and he suspected there was something she wanted to tell him, but she was struggling to find the strength to share it. With another shift, she sniffed, shook her head, and released a deep breath. “She was my first crush, my first relationship—my only relationship, prior to you, come to think of it. I trusted her with my life, and that was…” she trailed off, with another shake of her head. “A big step for me.”

He had always suspected what she had just told him, so he was, at least, on some level, prepared for it. Still, though, the strength it had taken for her to be open and raw in such a way… He envied her strength; it had taken him far longer to find the strength to share something that had rendered him far less vulnerable.

But, still, he didn’t want her to feel isolated after sharing such a raw confession; he moved quickly, working hard to make sure she knew he appreciated what she had just shared. “I can understand why,” he started, with a reassuring nod. “Given what we experienced with your mother yesterday.”

“I hate her,” she scoffed, with a roll of her eyes. One small tear escaped the corner of one of her eyes. “Norrie and Mary, my sister,” she specified, but he didn’t need it; he had already known her name. “They taught me I could trust some women, but my other sisters and my mother taught me that most of them can’t be trusted.”

Lockwood hesitated, quirking his eyebrow in question. Before he could actually issue the question on his mind, she turned to him, a small smirk on her face, even as more tears escaped her eyes. “What? Wasn’t that what you came here to discuss: How much my mother has destroyed me?”

He shook his head, hoping to immediately dispel that notion. “I do not believe she has destroyed you. On some level, you’d have to give her permission to do that—to enter your mind in such a way—and you don’t concede permissions such as that easily.”

“But your argument is that she has done something to me?”

“Oh, of course,” he answered, attempting to keep his tone casual. “And you’ve already started alluding to it. Tell me, why do you have a harder time forming relationships with women than with men?” he asked.

She scoffed, and he could already anticipate what she was about to say. “I just told you that my first relationship was with a woman, Lockwood. I think you need to check your facts,” she argued indignantly, as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Yes, but you said it yourself: Norrie and Mary were the exceptions, not the rule. Flo and Holly—”

“I know, I know,” she interrupted. With a shake of her head, she seemed to reset; it was almost as if she were not ready to discuss those two just quite yet, but Lockwood was persistent: he’d get them there, he was sure of it.

“You have no trouble bonding with me and George,” Lockwood started, his tone quieting. His eyes locked on hers, even if she resisted meeting his. “Despite the fact that Jacobs was an asshole to you—literally used you as a scapegoat for his own cowardice—you don’t have any issues with imprinting your hatred for him on me or George—”

“I don’t know,” she interrupted. “It was pretty rocky for me and George those first few months.” She scoffed again, this time with a roll of her eyes.

“Did you ever hate him?” Lockwood asked, the question nothing but genuine.

She paused. It took her a long time, but eventually—begrudgingly—she did find her answer. “No,” she conceded. “I wanted to, but I never did.”

“Did you ever hate Flo or Holly?”

Another pause, another weighted silence, another answer sought and found. “Yeah, I think I might’ve—if only for a little bit.”

“Holly?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

She did nothing but nod, her eyes still locked on Norrie’s name.

There was a long, silent lull upon the conversation. Lockwood could tell that she was gathering her thoughts. He found himself hoping that it was only a matter of time until she could not contain them anymore and that she actually pushed herself forward—actually pushed herself to share those thoughts with him.

He waited her out, and sure enough, she found her courage and her conviction.

“Jacobs hurt me,” she started, with a concession. “He was an asshole and a coward and everything else you’ve called him,” she continued. Turning to face him, she was suddenly all-business; currently, he had combat-Lucy standing in front of him, but he knew it was all for show: heart-on-her-sleeve-Lucy was lingering, just below the surface. “But he was an adult supervisor. Did I expect more of him? Yes. Should I have expected more of him?” she paused, immediately shaking her head. “No. From Jacobs, I learned…not to distrust men, but to distrust adults.

“From my mother,” she continued, with a sigh. Just as quick as she had turned to face him, she turned away once more. There it was: the evidence of her tears, reappearing in the corners of her eyes. “It’s exactly like you said, even if I’m not happy about it. I hate her—I’ve always hated her.

“I hate that she did nothing but use me. I hate that I was nothing but a source of income to her. I hate that she led me into thinking that she didn’t believe me about Norrie and the others. I hate that she actually maybe did believe me, and yet she still insisted that I go and grovel to that piece of shit.” She shrugged. “She would’ve done whatever was necessary to get her money back. It was the price she was willing to pay.

“I hate that she clearly never really cared about me,” she continued, a tear finally escaping and falling down her cheek. It was then that he knew; he may not know the details of what was coming, but he knew it had to be big. “I hate that my father, even drunk and actively drinking himself to death, actually seemed to care more about me than she ever did stone-cold sober. I hate—I hate—” she paused, rolled her eyes, and shook her head in frustration, as she wiped away her tears with a bat of a hand. “I hate that she's never told me she loves me.”

He didn’t dare to interrupt her, so when she paused here, after releasing such a raw revelation, he waited her out. She had mentioned this the day before, obviously, but to hear her actually explore it with him, privately—so openly, so nakedly—it was enough to nearly bring him to his knees.

Clearly frustrated with herself, she reached up, brushing another batch of tears away. “She’s family. That alone means that her betrayal will always cost more than anything Jacobs did to me.”

He settled for nodding, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to reach out to her, but as he wasn’t absolutely certain which Lucy was standing in front of him, he felt highly concerned about making the wrong move. Finally, unable to resist, he reached a hand out for one of her own. When she didn’t push him away, he settled in, giving her hand a hearty squeeze.

“Flo?” he asked, knowing very well that he may be pressing his luck.

“I never hated her,” Lucy stated, as if it were a fact that anyone should’ve been able to observe. “I have no respect for what she does for a living—at least, I didn’t, not for a long time.

“What Flo does…” Lucy trailed off, squinting as she got lost in thought. “I know we bend the rules, but not like her. Relic men—and women, for that matter—are insulting to me. What she does is too similar, to me, to what Jacobs did: lying in that courtroom and pinning his crime on me.

“I’m all fine and dandy with lying to Barnes for the sake of a case, or with stealing a piece of evidence so that we can poke at it and discover something for the greater good, but choosing the life of a relic man…” she trailed off again, with a shake of her head. “It just took me a while to get over that and trust her. I kept thinking she was going to betray us. Jacobs picked his own sense of self-preservation over his agents. I kept waiting for Flo to pick some stupid relic to salvage and sell, over saving us.”

“Fair,” Lockwood conceded. He had suspected this, but it was interesting to hear the full scope of it. “And…” he trailed off, knowing he was approaching the grand meteor hurtling towards this conversation. “Holly?”

With a sigh, she started. Finally, she turned to face him, her eyes locking on to meet his, although her arms found their way to cross indignantly, once more, over her chest. “I’ll be honest, Lockwood,” she promised, and internally, he made a promise in return: he would not interrupt her; he would let her get everything out, even if biting his tongue led to him literally biting his tongue.

“I was jealous,” she paused, looking almost as if she were revolted by her own admission. “She's gorgeous—has curves in all the places girls are supposed to, has pretty hair, and pretty features. She knows how to dress, and she puts value in appearances, just like you do.

“Me?” she asked, with a scoff. “I look like a slob, pretty much daily. My hips are too big, and my boobs are too small. I can’t compete with her.” He felt his head shaking in disagreement, long before she stopped to pause here, but he didn’t dare interrupt her; he kept his promise.

“She tidies. She organizes. She eats healthy foods—like, she actually prefers healthy food over the shit that I eat that tastes good,” she continued, with a roll of her eyes. “She cleans up after us. She's basically a mom in really attractive, form-fitting clothing,” she carried on, pointing fingers and tallying up all of Holly’s merits, before rolling her eyes yet again and tucking her hand back in the pit created by her crossed arms. Lockwood had wanted to reach out and grab her hand to cut the tallying off at its knees—as a method of dispelling the notion that Holly was in any way superior to Lucy—but she had moved too fast for him; he had missed his window of opportunity.

“I met her—after coming back from visiting here, mind you: a visit I returned from early because it was going oh-so well—and I just had a feeling that you had hired her because you liked her. Of course you liked her!” she exclaimed, with a shake of her head. He wanted to shake his own in disagreement, but he found that the shaking of her head left him believing that mirroring the action would feel nothing but hollow. “She cooks for you, she cleans you, and she looks and acts like a hot mom from the ’50s while doing it. What boy wouldn’t love that?

“Or, worse yet,” she continued. He wasn’t supposed to interrupt, but he could admit that, had she hesitated long enough for him to interject after her last comment, he would’ve. But she had moved too fast—had left him no room. “Maybe you were looking for a friend for me—like you wanted me to take her in and form a bond, like the one you and George have. Maybe you were trying to intervene in some other way, or…” she trailed off, but only for a moment. “I don’t know, but I didn’t like it,” she conceded, with another shake of her head.

“I got territorial. You and George—you're my guys. I didn’t like the idea of someone intruding, especially someone that could emerge from a full-fledged battlefield and still manage to look perfect. And even post-battle, she’d manage to pull out a healthy sandwich—of her own making, mind you—and have that to offer to you, too.” Another roll of the eyes. “She was everything you wanted—everything I perceived as what you probably wanted. Even if she didn’t want you—although, stupidly, I took absolutely zero minutes to even consider that possibility—it didn’t matter: I had it in my head that you wanted her, and even if she didn’t want you, it meant you didn’t want me.

“And with her being so perfect at everything I was bad at…” she trailed off, with another shake of her head. Biting his tongue was becoming quite the daunting task now, he could admit it, but she was so close—he could feel it; if he could just hold out for a few more seconds, she’d be done and he’d have his chance to tell her everything he wanted her to hear—needed her to hear.

“It brought out all the insecurities in me. You’ve met my mother,” she continued with another roll of her eyes. “You can probably guess that she never taught me how to do anything I might need to know as a girl. I don't know how to do my makeup. I don’t know what to wear or how to act in front of people.

“So, every day, I look disheveled, armed with no makeup, messy hair, practical clothing, and a bad attitude.” She started another tally with her fingers, but this time, Lockwood was quicker on the draw; he reached out, grasping her hand in his own. Still wishing to abstain from interrupting her, he merely shook his head and strengthened his hold on her hand.

When she continued to hesitate, he gave a small nod of encouragement; eventually, it was enough: she resumed course. “She pulled on other insecurities I had, too—not just about my appearance, but as a result of the fact that my mother didn’t teach me those things. It made me hate her, and it made me keenly aware of just how much I still hate my mother—of how much I still blame her for.

“It’s all a price: I hate people like Holly because of how my mom treated me. It isn’t a fair price, but…” she trailed off, with a shake of her head. “It’s the price I’ve paid.”

Lucy paused, but he continued to wait her out. He refused to interrupt her; that was his biggest fear. He had made it this far, and he didn’t dare to risk ruining all his hard work by interrupting her here, at the eleventh hour. But as the seconds continued to tick on, and his confidence that she had reached the end of her reveals increased, he settled in, easing his charming smile back into place.

“Are you quite done composing the love ballad of Holly Munro?” he asked, sardonically. “I don’t wish to interrupt the symphony you are creating.”

With a scoff and yet another roll of her eyes, she nodded.

“My turn, then?” he asked one more time—just to be sure.

But she had seemingly felt it: the change in his tone and demeanor. While the first comment had been all charm, this one was all concern. Her smile dropped, and her nod felt, somehow, more genuine.

His first step was a somewhat unfamiliar one: he swooped in, dropping his hands to encircle her waist. He had to check the impulse to run his hands up to cup her neck and weave his fingers through the hair to be found there, at the base of the neck—a physical position he often favored when he drew her in—but given one specific comment that she had made that he wished to address at some point during the duration of this conversation, it was imperatively important to him that he, instead, be within crawling distance of her hips.

“I love you,” he stated. “Just as you are, and I will always love you unconditionally. It isn’t about the money you can make for the agency. It isn’t about the fact that you are the best Listener in the country—though you are; I want to be clear about that,” he paused to smirk before regaining the severity required of the situation. “It is about the fact that you are Lucy Carlyle. You’re stubborn and resilient and powerful and strong and funny and about a million other things, all of which I love equally, and which make you the best partner I could ever consider having at my side.

“I want that to be clear, because it seems that your mother never made that clear. If your mother loves you—I can’t speak for her, obviously, but given the display we experienced yesterday, I’m compelled to follow the conclusions you have drawn on the matter—she should’ve told you. She should’ve told you every single day. She’ll regret that someday,” he stated, feeling the pricking of tears at the back of his own eyes. “I wish I could still tell my sister, my parents, that I love them. I regret not telling them more,” he carried on, with a resolved nod. “And if she loves you, she’ll regret it one day too.

“But that’s not our concern, is it? She’ll have to live with that forever, and I know you will, too: there’s no escaping the feeling that you wish she would do more. But know that, for what it’s worth, I will do everything in my power to never leave you feeling that way. You will know that I love you, and I will make it my goal every single day to make sure you know that.

“Along with this,” he continued, releasing a somewhat admittedly nervous chuckle. “Is to state the fact that at no time did I desire a romantic relationship with Holly. It wouldn’t have mattered to me if she had wanted a relationship with me—which, of course, we now know was not the case—but even if she had, I never viewed her that way: never thought of her that way, never even considered viewing her that way—”

“How?” Lucy interrupted, with a disbelieving look.

Lockwood noticed that her arms were still crossed stubbornly across her chest. He tried to resist taking it personally; she had admitted to a lot in this conversation, and if she wasn’t ready to return his physical sentiments, he’d respect that.

Still, in his distraction at this observation, he was not as careful in his response as he should’ve been. He released a humorless laugh; he couldn’t help it: perhaps it was not the right move, given the current tone of the conversation, but it had emerged from him before he could even consider checking it. “Because by the time I hired Holly, I was already well on my way to falling in love with you.”

That caught her attention. Her mouth popped open, but she made no room to respond; he took it as a sign that he was okay to proceed.

“Why do you think I hired her? We had gotten so busy—taken on so many new clients—that I wasn’t getting to work jobs with you and George anymore. I…” he trailed off, looking for the perfect word. “I missed you.” He shrugged. “Hiring her to organize the cases would allow us to actually resume working together again, and there’s no one I want by my side when I’m walking into a haunted house more than you.

“Holly is not who I want,” he stated. “Cooks, cleans, ’50’s aesthetic…” he drawled, making a point to play off of the ridiculousness of her previous statement, before shaking his head, locking eyes with her, and drawing her in even closer. As a result of him pulling her in, she finally dropped her arms to her side, though he noted that she did not yet move to return his embrace.

“She may be attractive to some men,” he conceded. “But she isn’t attractive to me—she never was. It’s not about how she looks or what she does, it's about you. It’s always been about you. That’s what your argument neglects, Lucy,” he continued, easing his charming smile back into place. “Men are allowed to have preferences, too.

“I happen to like your disheveled hair, and your clean face, and your very utilitarian clothing,” he said, running his fingers from her waist, down along the line created by the slope of her hips. He leaned in, dropping his forehead to rest upon hers. “As for your hips, they are one of my favorite things about you, outside of your personality, of course.”

“You’ve made cracks about them in the past,” Lucy defended. She held strong, still holding the line; she had not yet embraced him. “You’re always going on about the part around my hips—”

Unable to check his reaction yet again, a small, humorless laugh escaped him. He could feel her instant indignation, but he held strong, pulling her in even closer. “I was going on about the part around your hips because I find them to be one of the sexiest things about you, Luce. They’re driving me nuts, even standing right here, right now. Sorry,” he acknowledged, his eyes moving discreetly to cast a small glance to Norrie’s memorial. “That’s inappropriate, given where we are and why we’re here, but it’s important to me that you know it.”

She continued to glare at him, but he could see it: the faintest hints of a blush building at her cheeks. “You’re right,” she stated, with a shake of her head. But he felt it; she was leaning in, even if it was only ever-so-slightly. “It’s insanely inappropriate to say that here, but I can appreciate the sentiment.”

“It’s more than just that,” he started again, bringing his hands up to the familiar territory of cradling her neck; he wanted to make sure he had her full and undivided attention. “You believe Holly’s… What is it you said? Well-proportioned?” he asked, with a charming smile; he didn’t want to trigger her insecurities again.

He saw anger flare on her face, and he decided to take that as sufficient confirmation.

“Well, she doesn’t have your fighting-fit stature, either. You can hold your own in a fight, Lucy, in a way she’ll never be able to, and you know it, and she knows it.” He hesitated, his eyes wandering over to the memorial once more. “And I feel pretty confident that Norrie knew it and loved it about you too.”

Lucy’s eyes also ran to take in the sight of Norrie’s name once more. Slowly, almost as if she were moving in slow motion, she reached out, running her fingers once more over the lettering. “I loved her, Lockwood. It’s important to me that you know that. She was my first crush, my first relationship, and my first kiss. I hope you can accept that.”

He was nodding before she had even finished her statement. “Just as I hope you can accept that you are my first crush, my first relationship, and my first kiss.”

She looked mildly surprised, and he could admit that he rejoiced in it; he liked being able to keep her on her toes, especially after all the years they had spent working together. He strove to keep their relationship fresh, and he was seemingly succeeding.

“You’re it for me, Luce,” he said, repeating words he had said, in one variation or another, to her on several occasions. “You’re my first, my last—if you’ll have me, that is—and everything in the middle.”

He knew she needed to hear it—that she deserved to hear it—and, fortunately, she reciprocated in kind. Finally, she reached in, looping her arms around the waist of his still-far-too-new coat. “Let’s go home, shall we?”

“Yes, please,” he started, with a scrunching of his nose in distaste. “I’ve had quite enough of…” he trailed off, irony dripping from his expression and his words. “What’s it called? Chevet? Chevon? Something with hills because, well,” he paused, with a deadpanned point off to the hills in the distance that served as the backdrop to the town. “Much like every town in Northern England, shockingly, there’s hills.” She laughed, and he rejoiced in it.

Despite the fact that he didn’t want to rescind her offer of affection so soon after only just receiving it, he pulled back, detaching himself from the embrace. He was quick to make up for it, though, as he moved to clutch her hand in his as quickly as was humanly possible.

Still, though, he’d pay the price; letting go of this embrace meant reaching the safety of the train, boarding the secure confines of the cabin: it meant getting Lucy the hell out of here. It was the loss of one embrace in trade for countless others. And that, he could admit, was a fair price to pay.

A/N: Thank you for reading this story! I have a sequel to it—a final story in this trilogy, of sorts. I’ll be posting that as soon as possible. In addition, if you enjoyed my writing style and are willing and able, check out my book! It can be found here!

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