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onlyangellucifer · 4 months

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This is so good im screaming !!!!

Better Not Pout*

Summary: The one where Harry isn't leaving until he gets what he really came for.

You.

Word Count: 10.6k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, violence, guns, gunplay, exhibitionism (This one-shot is a bit darker, so please only read if you feel comfortable! 💞)

December 24th, 1945.

The streets of Chicago are cold. Windy. Dark. Everyone is either at home, visiting loved ones, or spending their Christmas Eve at the one place they know they’ll be welcome.

The Bees Knees – the renowned, underground speakeasy – is rather sparkling tonight. The customers continue to bustle in, some here for the booze, some here for the atmosphere and warmth, and some for the entertainment.

You.

You’re one of the establishments best performers, three nights of the week. Employed by none other than Johnny Winters himself to sing for the lost souls of Chicago as they drown their worries in a bottle of whiskey.

You quite like your job, and the people you work with. Milton, who tends the bar, always has a compliment to lend, offering you engaging small talk between sets or any new mixes he might make.

And Johnny isn’t so bad. But perhaps you’re a bit biased, seeing as he is your fiancé. But more than that, he’s one of the most powerful men in all of town. And considerably wealthy, which you suppose doesn’t exactly hurt.

But he’s also kind. Giving. And so very attentive. He spends every second he’s not working with you. Doting on you, showing you off to all of his friends. And having such a handsome man on your arm is certainly not the worst thing.

Tonight, however, Johnny is nowhere to be found. Which you don’t consider to be too terribly odd, given how much work he mentioned he’d be catching up on.

Even still, he hates to miss your performances, and insisted that you keep a part of him with you as you take center stage tonight in the small bar.

That part happens to be in the form of a stunning red, silk dress that was gifted to you for this very occasion. It sits on your frame like it was always meant to be yours, hugging every desirable curve, and showcasing just enough skin to taunt the imagination of those in the audience.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so beautiful, and you walk up the steps tonight with pride. Shoulders back and painted lips poised with your first song.

The few gentlemen scattered across the main floor holler when the spotlight finds you, and you offer your signature smile.

“Evening, gentleman,” you call as the pianist begins behind you. “How are you all doing tonight?”

A few whistles are offered that make you laugh, and just like that…the show begins.

Santa Claus Came in the Spring is always a favorite, and you croon the festive lyrics while the live band follows your lead.

And even though the crowd is rather dull and distracted, you have a blast. You feel comfortable in this role and in the way their eyes drink you in. Even if their attention drifts between you, their drinks, and the cigars.

In fact, you get so swept up in your act that you hardly notice the door open or the tall, lanky stranger that slinks in from the cold.

But when his head lifts, and his eyes find yours, you feel a hitch in your throat.

Unfortunately, he looks away all too quickly, pulling off his trench coat before moving along the shadows toward the far end of the bar.

He goes unnoticed by those around him, yet your attention follows him all the way to the booth that he settles in. And it stays even after he’s leaned back, gotten comfortable, and pulled a cigarette from his rather expensive looking suit pocket.

But even though your focus has drifted, you don’t miss a single beat of the song. After all, you could sing it in your sleep, and this habit serves you well as the intriguing stranger finally shifts into the light and allows you a better look at his face.

He’s…stunning. Absolutely beautiful, with his slicked back curls, sharp jaw, and pointed nose. And he’s lighting the end of a cigarette with what you can only call practiced precision before perching it between his two, crimson-colored lips.

Rings adorn his fingers as he holds the nicotine to his mouth, inhaling a long drag before exhaling the dark smoke from his lungs.

Yet unlike the other patrons in the bar, this man seems to be rather put together. He’s not missing any teeth, his skin isn’t stained with dirt or grease, and his clothes appear to be rather new. It’s quite the upgrade from the usual appearance you’ve grown used to, and you can’t help but feel rather relaxed.

And it’s now that you realize that this striking stranger seems to be watching you much like you’re watching him. Studying your dress, your silhouette, the way you grip the microphone stand. He takes in each detail presented before him with what looks to be wonder, and your cheeks instantly grow warm.

Still, you carry on with the ballad, making your way through the final chorus and the last few notes as the band plays you out with a flourish.

The few men in front of the stage clap, and you smile gratefully as you nod your thanks and call out your appreciation.

Jingle Bells is next, and a few more people join in on the fun this time around. They clink their glasses together or belt out the lyrics a few seconds too late and wildly off-key.

Even still, it’s rather fun as you continue on with your set before finally wrapping it up with a high note that’s accompanied by a rather lively trumpet solo.

And once it’s all over, the room bursts into applause. You wave to the growing audience, taking a quick bow before gesturing toward the band. Offering them their due praise which the crowed quickly obliges.

But you notice the man in the booth keeps his expression indifferent as he continues to watch you exit the stage and make your way to the bar. He doesn’t applaud your performance or even offer a smile of encouragement. He merely takes another hit of his cigarette and throws his arm over the back of his seat. A position you imagine is intended to display dominance more than it is to find comfort.

Truth be told, you find it rather unnerving. He doesn’t seem to be here for the alcohol or the company. Perhaps he’s only here to get out of the cold or perhaps he’s avoiding his home.

Either way, his focus stays only with you, and you feel a sharp chill run down your spine as you turn to the counter and flag down Milton’s attention.

You ask for a drink and request that he tell Johnny that you’ll be waiting in his office until he arrives.

He quickly agrees, preparing the beverage for you before jutting his chin toward the silent stranger.

“Want me to have him escorted out?” he asks, but you only smile as you shake your head.

“No need, I’m sure he’s harmless.” You take the crystal glass and tip it toward him in thanks. “Besides, the attention is rather nice.”

Milton nods his understanding and you leave it at that, taking your drink toward the hallway just off the corner of the room.

You sip leisurely as you stroll to Johnny’s office, picking up the edge of your long gown so it doesn’t drag on the floor. The sounds of the crowd grow quieter and quieter with each step you take, and soon, it’s nothing but silence.

After retrieving the key Johnny insisted you keep on you at all times, you slip open the door, and make your way inside.

It’s quite dark, given the time of night and lack of lighting. He’s only got three lamps in the room, one by the window, one on the shelf, and one on his desk.

Right beside a photo of you.

Getting your photograph taken is quite the privilege, but Johnny insisted he have a vision of you in his office at all times. And you couldn’t help but indulge him, allowing him to dress you up and place you in front of the large contraption one Sunday afternoon in spring.

It’s his favorite thing in the entire world, and he mentions it constantly. Commenting on your beauty or your ethereal outfit. You know he’s only trying to embarrass you, but it’s still rather flattering to hear.

You grin to yourself as you take a seat in the large chair behind the wooden table. Downing the rest of the contents in your glass before setting it down and taking a glance around the large space.

Vaguely, you hear footsteps approaching just outside the door. Echoing through the hall as your grin grows a bit wider.

And as the knob turns, you expect to see the handsome face of your Johnny.

What you don’t expect, however, is the green-eyed devil and his quiet charm.

He’s followed you. You assume this immediately, and your heart leaps into your throat as he steps inside…and shuts the door behind him.

A tense silence settles between you as you slowly sit up and force in a quiet breath. “Hello,” you call quietly.

The sound of your unsteady voice seems to amuse him, the corner of his mouth curling up as the burning cigarette sits tucked between his lips. “Hello, mama.”

You feel your lashes flutter. “Can…can I help you?”

“I’m looking for your fiancé,” he says, and his voice is low. Deep. And you believe you catch just a hint of an English accent. “This is in fact his office, is it not?”

You hesitate, unsure whether or not to disclose such information to a stranger. “It…yes. Yes, but he’s not here right now. Perhaps you could come back later?”

“Later,” he repeats, almost thoughtfully as his head tilts. Then, he tsks. “See, I’m afraid later just doesn’t work for me. I need to speak with him right now. It’s quite urgent, and I’d like to finish this up and be home to my lover by midnight.”

“Oh…” You shift a bit in your seat and hope he doesn’t notice how nervous you’ve become. “Well, I would love to help, but I don’t believe I know when he’ll be in.”

He considers this for a moment before striding further into the room. Eyes tracking every tremble of your fingers and heave of your chest. “Can I tell you a secret, mama?” he murmurs, placing both hands on the desk and leaning closer.

You nod.

“Your boy Johnny owes me money,” he whispers. “And I’m here to collect.”

And now you understand. Now you know why he’s here. Because even though his tone is friendly, it can’t disguise the threat you know lingers underneath.

“Oh,” you whisper back, and he hums.

“Exactly. And I’m a pretty reasonable guy. Decent. So, I’ll make you a deal.” He begins to smirk behind the cigarette. “If he’s not here within the next five minutes…you and I will find another way.”

The truth is, you don’t really know too much about the financial side of Johnny’s affairs and business. You know he has plenty of money, but you don’t know what he does with it. Or where he keeps it.

And if this alluring stranger seems to think you’ll be his key…you’re afraid he’ll be mistaken.

“Problem, Doll?” He seems smug, and it makes your skin crawl. “M’not scaring you, am I?”

The answer is obvious to you both, but you force yourself straighter and attempt to appear calm. “Not at all, sir. I only want to help.”

"Mm? Good girl,” he mumbles, eyes flicking down to your painted red lips. “Knew you’d behave for me.”

Your heart is hammering inside of your chest. You’re unsure what to do now. Do you ask him to leave? Do you scream for help? Do you call the police?

And where the hell is Johnny?

He should be here by now, especially after promising to wrap up his meeting early in order to catch your last performance before Christmas. He’s always here. One of your biggest fans and greatest protectors.

The only thing you can truly think to do now is attempt to call him. You figure the police won’t get here in time, but at least if this gentleman can be assured that Johnny is on his way, he won’t be as inclined to act rashly.

However, the moment your fingers lift from the desk in order to reach for the phone, the stranger reaches for something, too.

In a matter of seconds, he’s wrapping his hand around the barrel of a gun, pulling it from his back pocket, and aiming it straight at your head. Cocking it loudly as you gasp and withdraw your arm as quickly as possible.

“What are you doin’, hm, mama?” There’s a haughty condescension in his sneer, laced with just the faintest disappointment. “Thought you were gonna be good.”

“I…I was just going to call him,” you stammer. “I know you’re in a hurry.”

The stranger studies you now, that familiar smirk beginning to fade as his attention flicks across your face. Perhaps he suspects a lie or perhaps he merely doesn’t trust you, but truth be told, you know better than to try and pull a fast one on him.

Finally, he plucks his cigarette from between his lips before tossing it to the floor and nodding at you. “Yeah? Go on, then,” he instructs, reposition the barrel at your chest. “Call your little pretty boy. Tell him he’s got a visitor.”

With a racing pulse, you once again slowly reach for the telephone, eyeing the gun carefully as you scoot closer.

You’re careful not to make any sudden moments. Hesitant to even look at him for fear of upsetting him, but your timid demeanor only entertains him further.

He simply chuckles as he slowly makes his way over to your side of the desk. Snatching up the phone just before you can reach for it and handing it to you almost cockily.

Curious, you glance up. That soft green in his eye is almost alluring, even despite the circumstance. Still, he reeks of nicotine and expensive cologne, and you lean back in an attempt to put as much space between you as you can.

He smiles. “I’m gonna watch you dial,” he tells you calmly. “Make sure you keep your word. Okay, Doll?”

Posed like a question, although you both know you don’t exactly have a choice. And you'd likely point this out if you were just a touch braver, but nevertheless, you nod. Agreeing to his terms as you take the phone and begin to dial.

As the seconds go by, you feel him watching you closely while the line rings. Leaving you to desperately await the sound of your sweet Johnny’s voice. A sound you’ve never needed more than in this moment.

Yet his voice never comes, and your heart sinks to the cold floor blow as you return the phone to the desk.

“He…he must already be on his way,” you murmur, and the man hums.

“You think so?”

You nod weakly.

He takes a seat on the edge of the desk, just inches from your arm before leaning closer. “How much are you willing to bet, hm?” His brow raises. “How sure are you that your precious fiancé will actually save you tonight?”

You feel trapped by him now. The closer he moves, the faster your heart pounds. You have nowhere to run, no personal space to disappear into.

But you only have to hold on for just a little longer. Johnny will come for you. He always does.

“Incredibly sure,” you respond, ignoring the slight waver in your voice. “He said he would be, so he will.”

The man considers this before clicking his tongue. “All right. Then how about I make you another deal, yeah? For every minute he’s late, and for every minute he leaves you here unattended…I’ll put an extra bullet through his head.”

A sharp chill runs down your spine, skin growing hot and prickly, but you force your expression to remain unfazed. “And why would you do that if you need him so badly?”

The gentleman laughs now. A sound that would almost be charming if he weren’t so vile. “Because I don’t need your precious Johnny,” he answers calmly. “I just need what’s in his safe.”

And despite the danger you’re in and despite your better judgment, your features scrunch into a grimace as you scoff, “Oh, how pathetic.”

Your reaction loosens his smile.

“Truly, how incredibly pathetic to come all the way down here at this time of night – and on Christmas Eve – just to break into his safe,” you huff. “Honestly. He won’t give you a damn thing. And you have absolutely no business to come storming in here and—”

You don’t get the chance to finish the rest of your furious scolding before he’s suddenly standing to his feet and wrapping his fingers around your arm.

Instantly, you’re yanked from your chair and shoved against the bookcase just behind you. Hard enough to knock the wind from your lungs as he traps you there, leaning in so close, his nose nearly brushes your own.

“I’d be careful how you fucking speak to me, mama,” he seethes quietly, yet even still, there’s just an air of pleasure. “Because you might not get the chance to do it again.”

He’s desperate to scare you. Desperate to see you cry, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, you suck in a sharp breath, and do the one thing you can think to do:

You spit.

The collection of saliva just misses his eye, landing on his cheek with a rather wet splat until the amusement fades and fury takes its place.

His fingers leave your arm and find your throat, curling around the delicate skin and forcing your head up as he begins to chuckle darkly.

“So, that’s how you wanna play, hm, Doll?” Another tsk. “You wanna be bad? Wanna test my fucking patience?”

You squirm a bit in his hold, yet for some reason, you don’t feel as frightened as you did before. Because there’s this look in his eye – this hunger. And even though his grip is tight…you feel oddly safe.

“Better find a way to keep this pretty little mouth shut,” he says next, head cocking to the left almost curiously. “Or I’ll have to shut it for you.”

His attention returns to your mouth, fingers slowly slipping up toward your chin until he can brush is thumb over the painted fibers of your lips.

Just enough to taunt you yet startle you all in the same second.

“Maybe,” you finally breathe before jerking your head away from his cruel touch. “If you knew how.”

The cocky grin widens as his hand immediately returns to your neck. “Still disobeying me, hm?” he nearly purrs. “Guess I could always just squeeze this sweet, little throat to keep you quiet, yeah? Feel your pretty pulse beneath my fingertips. Feel the life drain from your body…watch the light go out in your eyes.”

You take in a strained inhale, and he makes a sound that almost sounds like a groan.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, moving in just a bit closer until his lips are ghosting across yours. “Or maybe…I could put my gun in your mouth. See how chatty you are then, yeah, mama?”

Your chest heaves anxiously, but you find just enough confidence to whisper, “But without your gun, how will everyone know what a tiny cock you have?”

And you’re so proud of yourself. So endlessly pleased with the way you’ve managed to make his smug expression waver, even if he keeps his smirk in place.

“Oh, you think that’s funny,” he snorts as you attempt to bite back a laugh. “Well, you wanna know what I think is funny? I think it’s funny that you said Johnny would be here…and he’s not.”

“He will be,” you retort, a bit firmer. “He will.”

“See…you keep saying that,” he muses, placing one hand on the bookshelf beside your head. Truly trapping you beneath him. “And yet…your noble fiancé still isn’t here to save you.”

You tilt your head back in an attempt to appear stronger, but it doesn’t seem to fool him.

“Are you afraid?” he whispers, chest brushing against yours. “Are you afraid your Johnny won’t be able to keep you safe from the bad man?”

It’s almost hostile, the way he goads you. And yet you can hear just the slightest concern beneath his question.

“Or maybe you’re afraid he can’t pay up,” he continues. “Maybe you’re afraid he’ll have to find another way.”

Suddenly, the grip on your throat constricts. Recapturing your attention.

“Are you gonna be my other way, mama?” he exhales. “You gonna be my consolation prize?”

You feel dizzy. The room is spinning. And you aren’t sure if that’s because of the hold on your neck or the way he’s speaking to you.

However, before you can decide if you’re actually intrigued by his intimidation tactics…the sound of footsteps echo outside through the hall.

Johnny.

It has to be him. You almost need it to be him, and your shoulders unwind as the man glances toward the closed door curiously before finally leaning back.

Then, he grabs onto your arm for a second time, and flings you back toward the chair. Shoving you down and keeping you still.

“You’re gonna sit here and you’re gonna keep your fucking mouth shut,” he hisses softly right as the door swings open. “And then maybe…I just might reward you.”

But you don’t even mind this malicious threat because then you see him. Your fiancé, smiling brightly as his eyes find you before they flick to the man to your right.

For a moment, he seems surprised, seemingly assessing your position and the situation before his grin widens.

“Ah, Mr. Styles,” he calls as he strides into the room, quickly removing his hat and coat. “What a pleasant surprise. Did we have a meeting tonight?”

He seems relaxed. Almost too relaxed, as though he doesn’t view this man as a threat, and you aren’t sure whether to feel relieved or wildly confused. You hadn’t exactly expected him to grab the mysterious guest by the collar and throw him out the window, but you also didn’t expect him to welcome him with open arms.

A strange man is alone with his future wife, in his office, in the middle of the night, and that doesn’t seem to concern him even a little?

Perhaps Johnny is far too friendly for his own good.

The gentleman, in turn, straightens up while subtly slipping the gun behind his back. Tucking it into his belt just out of view before Johnny can catch it. “Not quite,” he says coolly. “I’m here to discuss a bit of unfinished business.”

Your heart sinks, yet Johnny merely nods. “Ah, I see. Well, is there any way this can wait until after Christmas? It’s been a long night, and I’d like to be getting the lovely lady home.”

Now, both of their stares turn to you, and eagerly, you begin to rise from the chair. Grateful for the opportunity to leave this unsettling stranger behind.

Yet before you can even find your footing, the man’s hand is coming down in a firm smack on your shoulder to force you back down.

“I’m afraid the lovely lady isn’t going anywhere,” he replies, and you catch Johnny’s expression fall. “And neither are you. Have a seat.”

Johnny begins to frown. “Look, Harry, whatever business we might have, I’m sure it can—”

“I said, have…a seat,” the man – Harry – repeats a bit brasher. “Yeah? Or things will get a lot worse for your darling fiancé.”

Johnny hesitates, eyes flicking to yours. But he must notice the panicked look you wear because he finally sighs and does as instructed. Taking a seat in the chair just in front of the desk before glancing toward Harry.

Harry nods, almost proudly. “There you go. S’not so hard, is it?”

Johnny’s figure slumps but his lips purse together. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I just want to talk,” Harry says, his smirk returning. “And lucky for you, your schedule just cleared up.”

“Harry—” Johnny begins, leaning closer as though getting ready to stand.

But instantly, Harry is reaching back behind him for the gun, pulling it free, and aiming the barrel straight at his head.

Johnny quickly leans back, eyeing the weapon hesitantly while you gasp and glance up at the stranger pleadingly.

Harry only looks at Johnny. “See, I’m running out of fucking patience. Eight goddamn months I’ve had to listen to you go on and on about this special fucking shipment you got. And now…it’s time to collect.”

Your sweet fiancé understands now. Realizes why this man is here and how real the threat is, and glances back at you almost apologetically.

You merely mouth, “It’s okay.”

Johnny’s eyes flick back to the gun. “I’d be careful waving that thing around. Somebody might get hurt.”

The man merely hums. “Oh, I’m fucking counting on it.”

Now, the office grows quiet. A tense, charged sort of energy that filters between the three of you as Harry begins to walk around the desk.

“So,” he continues, grabbing onto the other free chair in order to spin it around and sit in a straddle, “where’s the safe, Johnny?”

Johnny’s brow raises, but his Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. Down at the club, you said you just got a brand new, fancy safe to hold everything from your latest shipment. Practically bragged about it to the whole goddamn bar, yeah? So…where is it?”

With piqued interest, you look between the two men curiously as you await Johnny’s answer. You’ve never really been sure where he gets all his money. You assumed most of it came from the bar and alcohol sales, so you’re rather stumped by what sort of shipment they might be referring to.

However, Johnny isn’t so quick to divulge all his secrets. “And what is it you’re expecting to get out of my safe, Mr. Styles?”

There’s another heavy pause as Harry rests his arms over the back of the seat and whispers, “Everything.”

Instantly, Johnny scoffs. “You think you can storm into my office on Christmas Eve and threaten my fiancé? Threaten me? That you’re entitled to anything you damn well please?” A bitter scoff as he leans back. “You’ll be arrested before morning, and you’ll never see a red fucking cent.”

His retort dangles between them for only a moment as a breath catches in your throat. Pulse racing as you watch the stranger’s reaction closely.

Yet the mystery man doesn’t so much as flinch as he suddenly repositions the gun into the air, aims it just to the left of Johnny’s head, and fires.

The sound is deafening, much like your sharp, shrill shriek as the bullet flies through the air – just missing Johnny’s ear – and lodges into the wall behind him.

Johnny immediately flinches, eyes screwing shut and muscles recoiling before he seems to realize that he remains unharmed.

And once he does, he takes a deep breath, and begins to smirk. “You missed.”

“Did I?” Harry runs his tongue over his bottom lip before re-cocking the gun. “No, see…I never fucking miss. That was your first warning.”

Johnny simply snorts. “Yeah? Well, eat my shit.”

Things move quickly from there.

Harry is instantly on his feet, tossing the chair aside rather angrily before he’s turning to you once more. And you don’t even have a moment to think before you’re being yanked from the seat for a second time and immediately tugged to his chest as he presses the barrel of the gun into the side of your temple.

“Where’s the fucking safe, Johnny?” he says again, and you notice Johnny’s face pale.

“Styles,” Johnny murmurs, “you don’t have to do this—”

“The safe,” he seethes. “Where is it? Or do you need a little incentive, huh? Need to see her pretty little brains all over your goddamn floor? Is that what it’s gonna take?”

Poor Johnny doesn’t know what to do. He looks from the gun, to your face, to the arm keeping you hostage.

And you almost feel bad for him, yet you aren’t even afforded the chance for empathy before Harry furiously growls and shoves you in Johnny’s direction.

You stumble across the wooden floor until Johnny can quickly take you into his embrace, keeping you safe from the bad man as you begin to sniffle.

“My love,” he whispers, tightening his hold on your trembling frame while turning you away as if to protect you. “It’s gonna be all right, I promise.”

With a quick nod and a hiccup, you look up and slip your hands around his neck for comfort. “I know.”

He smiles.

It’s Harry’s disgusted sneer that brings you attention back. “Fucking pathetic. Really, mama? This is who you choose to save you?”

Your features fall ever-so-slightly while Johnny begins to pull you behind him, shielding you from the aggravated aggressor. “If you need money so badly, there are plenty of other ways.”

“It’s not just about money,” Harry retorts calmly. “It’s about your money. Yeah? So where’s the fucking safe.”

“None of your goddamn business—”

The reply no sooner leaves his mouth before there’s another gunshot fired into the air.

One of the paintings on the wall falls with a crack and you jump almost two feet into the air, nails scratching down Johnny’s nice shirt.

“Johnny,” you whisper faintly, refusing to let this go on any longer. “Johnny, tell him. Tell him, please. I don’t care about the money; I don’t care about any of it. I just want you. I love you, and I can’t lose you.”

The office falls silent as you request hangs in the air, and you feel Johnny take in a deep breath.

“Yeah, Johnny,” Harry adds in a condescending murmur. “She loves you. Don’t make her watch you die. It’d be such a shameful waste of her tears.”

Johnny looks to you, and your expression softens. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “It’s okay, I promise.”

Finally, he sighs. “Under the desk.”

Harry’s head whips toward the large table curiously before he frowns. “Where?” he murmurs before repositioning the gun at Johnny’s chest. “I promise you don’t wanna lie to me.”

However, Johnny’s indifferent expression remains. “Under the desk,” he repeats while thrusting his chin toward the massive piece of furniture.

And now Harry seems to understand, although it does little to relax him as he suddenly reaches for you again and yanks you from your lovers’ arms.

“Show me,” he hisses, keeping you hostage again while ushering Johnny forward with the barrel of the weapon. “And don’t be dense.”

And Johnny can do nothing but obey, seemingly defeated while sending you one last remorseful look. Finally moving to lift the desk and pull it back.

The sound of wood scraping against wood is heavy, and it takes him quite a while to relocate the table beneath the window by himself.

But once it’s out of the way, you notice a particular part of the flooring juts out. The rotten board almost askew.

You and Harry lean closer, both magnetized by intrigue as he bends down in order to wrench the board up, revealing the hollow hiding place underneath.

And there you find it. The large, black box with a gold dial in the middle.

He glances up toward Harry, perhaps looking for permission – which Harry quickly gives him – before reaching down to put in the correct combination.

And after a couple seconds of clicking and turning…the door swings open.

Truth be told, you were hoping to find a secret gun that might help you out of this situation, but it seems there are no weapons to be found as Harry shoves you back in order to get a better look.

He no longer seems concerned about Johnny or the possibility that he might attempt to attack because Johnny seems to have given up.

All your dejected fiancé does is straighten up and motion you back to him, watching Harry bend over and reach inside the safe almost uninterestedly.

Your heart aches for him, yet you can’t help feeling relieved. You’re a few steps closer to this wretched night being over, and perhaps once Harry has what he came for, you’ll be able to leave.

“Are you all right?” Johnny whispers to you now as Harry begins to unload the contents in the floor.

You nod quickly, clinging to his strong frame as though you’re scared you might be taken again. “Yes, I’m all right. Are you?”

“I will be once I know you’re safe,” he says, and your heart sinks.

Once everything inside the safe has been shoved into a bag, Harry turns to the two of you. “That was a good start, Winters. Now where’s the rest of it?”

Johnny frowns. “I don’t know what you mean. Everything I have is in there.”

But Harry only tsks as he sets the items down and begins to stride closer, making you curl even further into Johnny’s embrace. “Come on, now,” he mumbles almost tauntingly. “You know what I really want. And you know that you’re gonna fucking tell me. Isn’t that right, mama?”

He looks to you for only a moment as you swallow.

Johnny begins to seethe. “No. No, you can have everything else, but you won’t touch that.”

“Johnny,” you try, unnerved by the sudden look of warning in Harry’s eye. “Johnny, please…just give it to him. Whatever it is, I don’t care, just…just make him leave.”

“Smart girl,” Harry adds. “Come on, Johnny boy, your darling fiancé is scared. Don’t you wanna save her?”

Your lover simply grows stiff, eyes narrowing at the faux sincerity in the stranger’s voice.

“Johnny,” you mumble again. “Johnny, please, he’s right. I’m scared and I don’t care about what you have or what you don’t have. I just want you. And I want him to go away.”

Still, Johnny wrestles with his decision. With the choice he’s being forced to make, and as the seconds go by, Harry’s patience reaches its limit.

He grabs for you – again. Forcing the weapon under your jaw this time around as Johnny’s muscles tense and his fingers curl into his fist.

“God, look at him,” Harry whispers to you now, lips ghosting up the shell of your ear while forcing your eyes on your fiancé. “Fucking look at your pathetic excuse for a man.”

You attempt to remain indifferent – appear unafraid – but he sees right through you.

“D’you really think he cares about you, Doll?” he murmurs. “Do you really think he’ll choose your life over his own?”

“Let her go,” Johnny barks, yet it only forces the barrel even further into your skin.

Your chin is tilted up, a sharp inhale getting caught in your throat until Harry begins to chuckle.

“How about this,” he says. “I’ll let you choose, mama. I’ll let you decide if he gets to watch me kill you…or if he gets to watch me take you. All for myself.”

“Fucking piece of shit—” Johnny hisses, but Harry simply tsks.

“So, what do you say? What’ll it be? Either way, I’ll have him on his goddamn knees by the end of the night. And then we all win, yeah?”

“Enough,” Johnny yells, and a strangled silence splits the air. “Fine. Fine, I’ll tell you. Just let her go.”

Harry’s arm begins to lower but not very far. “Once it’s in my hand, she’s all yours.”

And you want to resent these men for treating you like you’re some sort of object to be traded, yet you’d happily be given back to your lover if it meant you could leave this nightmare behind.

No matter the cost.

Johnny rolls his shoulders back and flicks his unrelenting stare back to his desk. “There. The picture.”

You feel your eyebrows raise while Harry slowly begins to loosen his hold on you.

“Get it,” he instructs, and with an aggravated sigh, Johnny obliges.

He retrieves the golden frame from the table before pulling open the back and removing the picture inside.

The picture of you.

It almost breaks your heart, the look on his face. Like he’s absolutely gutted to be defiling this memory of you both, and you ache to comfort him.

Once the photo has been plucked from the glass, you catch the faintest sparkle in the soft light of the moon, and hear yourself gasp.

There, sitting snug inside the small frame, is the biggest fucking diamond you’ve ever seen.

It’s…stunning. The most gorgeous jewel you’ve ever been privileged to lay eyes on, surrounded by what you can only assume to be hundreds of tinier diamonds and rubies arranged in a delicate but intricate pattern.

Altogether creating the most breathtaking necklace you’ve ever seen.

It has to be worth hundreds of dollars – thousands, in fact – and Harry reaches over to take it from the frame with the biggest Cheshire-like grin you’ve ever seen.

This is what he came for.

“You have it, all right? You have it, now go,” Johnny calls, already attempting to reach for you. “You got what you want.”

With an agreeable hum, Harry studies the necklace a moment longer before finally looking to you. “You’re right. We did, didn’t we?”

You both smile.

Instantly, you raise the gun that Harry had discreetly and secretly slipped into your hand only moments ago and aim it at Johnny’s chest.

Three.

Johnny’s expression shifts, eyes widening as he begins to piece together what’s really going on. Why Harry looks so proud and why you look so relieved.

Two.

His lips part. Ready to speak to you, whisper your name, ask for an explanation. And a part of you can’t help but wonder if you’ll feel any remorse for the deception you’ve put him through these past few months.

But as you stare at him now…you feel nothing but liberation.

One.

The third and final gunshot echoes through the air. Louder and far more permanent. Resolute.

Johnny stumbles back, unable to catch himself before he goes tumbling to the ground. A dark red stain expanding like watercolor across his chest, ruining the clean white shirt underneath.

You’d bought him that shirt.

And as the look of life slowly leaves his eye, you feel your muscles unwind, and your shoulders droop.

It’s over.

Harry’s got his arms around you before you can even release the deep breath you’ve been holding onto for so long.

“Oh, good fucking girl,” he nearly groans, pressing his lips to yours for the first time in months as you sling your arms around his neck. “Fucking hell, I missed you, mama.”

If Harry had had it his way, Johnny would have been dead months ago. He never liked this plan – not because he thought you couldn’t handle it, but because the idea of going without you for so long nearly killed him.

But it was the only way to gain Johnny’s trust. And to find his true weakness. He never would have given you the location of the safe or the necklace if you’d simply held him at gunpoint from the get-go.

No, he needed a reason to cave, a reason to put his possessions on the line in order to save something else he truly cared about.

And that’s where you came in.

Sure, it was hard to be without Harry, but you knew it had to be done. Getting these items would set you up for years. You’d never have to work in sleazy bars again. You could simply be with him…forever.

And perhaps pretending to be a stranger to him and appear frightened of his intentions wasn’t quite necessary, but you happen to like the roleplaying aspect.

The way he threatened your life as though he wouldn’t do everything in his power to protect it. The way he taunted you, teased you, scared you…when he knew deep down how much you fucking loved it.

You can still feel his fingers around your neck. The pressure of his hand against your throat, holding you still, keeping you close. You hadn’t felt it in months and a part of you wanted to keep the game going for just a bit longer if it meant you could have him.

You weren’t able to run into his arms and kiss him the way you can now and it’s…perfect. Absolutely perfect.

“Did he hurt you?” he whispers, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw. “Did he fucking touch you—”

“No,” you’re quick to assure him. “No, never. He wanted to, but I never let him.”

“Good.” He takes hold of your hip and gives it a firm squeeze. “Good girl, knew you’d be on your best behavior, yeah?”

You grin. “Of course. Only ever thought about you.”

“Is that right, doll?”

“Mhm.” You tuck your lip between your teeth and nuzzle your nose to his. “How could it ever be him?”

His lashes flutter, and you can see the edges of his frayed sanity coming loose. He’s had to pretend for far too long, and you don’t imagine he can do it much longer.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, nearly clawing at your dress. “Then, maybe I’ll—”

“What…did you do?”

The sound of Milton’s confusion pulls you apart instantly. He’s standing in the doorway, eyes wide, expression horrified. Looking from his boss, to you, to Harry, and back.

He sees the necklace on the desk, sees the gun in your hand, sees the bag of gold and cash lying at Harry’s feet.

He understands, and your heart almost sinks. Milton was one of the good ones.

Quickly, Harry takes the weapon from you and points it in Milton’s direction.

Milton only leans back with a soft inhale while you turn to your lover and whisper, “No. No, not him.”

Harry’s pursed lips and furrowed brows never waver. “What?”

“Not him,” you repeat, as firmly as you can.

And he hesitates for only a moment before dropping the weapon and nodding his chin at you. “Grab the bag and go out the window.”

You nod your understanding before stealing one last glance at the bartender by the door.

He’s heartbroken and terrified…but his features grow softer as he finally mumbles, “…five minutes. I’ll give you five minutes.”

And you can’t help but smile.

You rush to grab what you came for and hurry to the window, with Harry right behind you. You don’t have a lot of time. Once Milton makes the call to the police, you’ll need to be far enough away that they can’t find you.

You know they’ll be looking. Know they won’t stop until they find you both – after all, they’ve been searching for you for years.

But you don’t mind a life that’s on the run, as long as it’s with him.

And the pleased smile he offers you now only confirms this.

You quickly lift the hem of your dress and begin over the ledge, with Harry right beside you to help. He takes your hand for support, keeping you steady until you can safely drop to the ground outside before he’s following suit.

The moment his feet hit the ground, you both run. The Chicago air is cold – frigid. You don’t have enough clothes to truly cover you and your feet are sore from having to wear these outrageous shoes all night.

But you somehow feel…alive. Invigorated and so very free. You have everything you’ve ever wanted.

You have him.

You both slip along the shadows as you make your way through town, leaving the speakeasy and Johnny Winters behind. After a minute or two, you hear the sirens in the distance, and the stakes are raised. They grow louder and louder the closer they get, and it’s then that Harry recaptures your hand and tugs you into a dark alleyway for cover.

This is where you stay until the cars have zipped down the street and proceeded without you. They don’t even think to look for you here and you’re rather impressed with your lover’s quick thinking.

Harry, however, isn’t as quick to revel in the success. Continuingly peeking around the corner in order to watch for anything unusual. Ignoring your amused laughter and giddy grin of accomplishment.

He’s on edge. Alert. Ready to run again if need be, and while you rather admire his practiced precision, you hope to put it to better use.

You drop the bag near the wall and make your way for him, palms quickly finding his cheeks in order to pull his attention to you.

He grunts. “What?”

But you don’t answer with words. You answer with a kiss. A kiss that makes your stomach flip and your mind grow fuzzy.

And this seems to be explanation enough as he groans with approval and wraps his arms around your middle to keep you against his chest. Nipping and licking at you as though his life depends on it.

Perhaps it does.

He shoves you back against the brick after only a few seconds, finding the leverage he needs in order to deepen the kiss and truly claim you. In a way he’d been desperate to the moment he saw you sitting in that office in such a beautiful dress.

“Trying to distract me, hm?” he murmurs, and you can’t help but smile. “Yeah? Or did you just need me that badly?”

He spins you around, pressing your cheek to the cold blocks of clay before dancing his fingers down your spine. Indulging in you.

It makes your insides twist.

You feel the hem of your dress gather in his fist as he finally gets a proper look at what he’s been missing for months. And the sound he makes goes straight to your cunt.

“You filthy fucking thing,” he whispers, rather delightedly while moving in to trail his mouth along your neck. “Look at you. Look at how perfect you are.”

His fingers find your pussy, stroking over your covered slit once or twice before plucking the covering from your hips and dragging it down your thighs.

“Just dripping for me, yeah? All fucking night.” He drags his palm up the inside of your leg. “Power makes you weak, doesn’t it, mama?”

You nod desperately, unable to answer with words.

But he understands, smirking to himself rather deviously before his hands are tangling in your hair in order to yank your head back. Just to hear you choke on a whine. “I’ve waited months for this. Yeah? M’gonna take my time with you…gonna make it worth it.”

And you don’t doubt that you will.

You nod again as the sound of his leather belt coming undone echoes between your ears. You’re trembling with anticipation, body aching for the feel of his cock. It’s been far too long, and you’ve nearly withered away without him.

You imagine he feels about the same, already fisting himself in one hand and readjusting your dress in the other. You hear him mumble something under his breath – you’re not quite sure what. But you suppose it doesn’t matter. He can say whatever he likes as long as he gives you what you need.

Normally, he’d take his time. He loves to make a show out of ruining you, but there’s no chance for that tonight. No patience. So, he kicks your feet apart, grabs your hip, and eases himself in all before you can take a breath.

And it’s perfect. Exactly the way you remember. The stretch, the scratch, the desperation. Nobody feels the way he does, and you both know it.

He’s still for a moment, merely pushing himself in and watching your pussy swallow him whole. As if so overcome by the sensation that he can’t do much else. As if losing control over his own body.

So, you push against his chest to remind him you’re here while your fingers reach back for his hair in order to tug it softly.

You feel him smile against your cheek. “All fucking night,” he whispers the moment he’s buried to the hilt. “Knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”

You grin as well. You’re rather happy he noticed.

“Spitting in my fucking face,” he continues. “Challenging me. Acting like a fucking brat. S’all cause you were so fucking needy for me, wasn’t it, mama?”

“Maybe,” you can’t help but retort. “Maybe I knew you’d like it.”

He laughs now. A low, deep, sadistic sound from the back of his throat. Using his hold on your scalp to force your head into his shoulder. “Is that right, hm?”

You only nod.”

“Yeah? Then say it,” he hisses. “Tell me you missed me. Tell me you missed my cock. That nobody fucks you like I do—”

He accompanies this request with his first, sharp thrust. Pulling back only to drive himself in so hard, the air is nearly knocked from your lungs.

“Because they can’t, can they?” he coos, yet it’s angry. Fingers moving from your hair to your neck. Squeezing until you gasp. “Nobody knows how to treat this little pussy like I do. Do they?”

You fall mute. Going limp in his hold as the pleasure begins to build.

“You love it when I fuck you like this.” His nose presses to your cheek as he breathes, your delicate throat a plaything in his touch. “Love it when I kill for you. Love it when I make you mine—”

You gasp at the ecstasy, hardly able to hear him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You love me,” he murmurs, and you just about disappear into his embrace.

“I do,” you gasp, almost too loudly. “I do, Harry, please—"

“Quiet,” he hisses, glancing now toward the street in order to make sure the police haven’t found their way to you. “You know better than that. You’ll take me and you’ll do it quietly. Understood?”

Your only response is to whimper pitifully while your nails scratch down the brick walls of the alley.

In turn, he grasps onto your jaw, forcing your head to the side until your eyes can meet. “I said, is that fucking understood?”

“I thought you said to be quiet,” you can’t help but retort, and he hums.

“Oh, is that how you wanna play it?” He releases your throat only to take hold of your hips once more and spin you around between thrusts. Quickly returning to his place between your thighs before lifting one of your legs and hiking it around his waist.

“What…” you begin, chest heaving as the tip of his cock drags down your clit. “What are you—”

“Had to see you,” is his gritted response. “Had to see this pretty, bratty face as I ruined you.”

You imagine you’d smile if you weren’t so close to coming apart, but he understands. Pressing his forehead to yours before reaching up toward the top of your dress and ripping the fabric down to reveal your chest.

You can tell he’s been wanting to do this all night. Know he’s been ogling your tits from behind the expensive fabric since the moment he walked in, and truth be told, that’s the real reason you wore it.

Not because Johnny loves you in red.

But because Harry deserved to look at something pretty.

The cold air meets your skin with an unforgiving fervor, and you squirm against the brick as Harry’s eyes fall to the tattered fabric lying so pathetically on your chest.

Instantly, his head dips, mouth leaving open and sloppy kisses to the beautiful pair before him. Tongue stroking the hardened nipples rather respectfully, all things considered.

In turn, you run a hand through his dark curls as he does this to you. As you watch him take whatever he wants. Feeling the way his hair moves like butter between your fingers. The way he hums against you. The way his lashes flutter.

You’ve missed this.

Then, your grip tightens, and you yank his head up until his lips can meet yours. And you take. Take the taste of him, the taste of you, and the taste of victory.

His palm comes up to rest against the wall beside your head. Steadying himself as he works to find that perfect rhythm again. Over and over and over.

And all you can do is move your anxious kisses to his throat as he fucks into you. Whispering, “Nobody, baby. Nobody feels like you do. Nobody.”

Your fingers trail down his strong back, feeling each muscle that dips and flexes as he moves. The way he grunts when you scratch your nails down his spine. The way he consumes you and succumbs to you all at once.

Johnny was beautiful, but Harry is a beast. You’ve never seen a man like this before – never felt a man like this before. Every curve of his body is ethereal. Every detail, every touch.

Your touch continues to move lower and lower down his strong frame until you find something at the base of his spine.

And it makes you grin.

You slip it from his belt with ease, feeling the way it sits firmly in your hand as though it were made for it.

Harry doesn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps he just doesn’t care with the way he’s so deep into you. Emotionally, physically.

But he’s quickly pulled from his pleasured trance the moment he feels the familiar, cool touch of his gun sweeping across his jaw.

He stills. Straightening up ever-so-slightly, eyes finding yours.

But you’re too busy gazing at the barrel that dances across that beautiful face.

After all, he got to have his fun this evening.

Now it’s your turn.

You bring it to a stop just under his chin, tilting his head up exactly the way he’d done to you earlier as he releases a deep breath.

“Mama…” he warns, but you only hum.

This isn’t the first time this deadly weapon has made this an unofficial threesome, but it is certainly the first time you’ve been the one to wield it.

You hate guns. You do. But you love Harry’s. The way he holds it. The way he handles it. The way he uses great care and great power.

Because there’s something about seeing him with it. Seeing the way he controls it, controls the room. The way he holds someone’s life in the palm of his hand…

Perhaps you should be concerned by how enamored you are by it. By him.

But not tonight. Tonight, you simply enjoy.

And from the look in his eye, he seems to be enjoying it, too.

After all, you know he loved watching you use it on Johnny. Know he almost had you right then and there, on Johnny’s desk, before the mission was even through.

He’s endlessly pleased with you, and you can’t help but use this to your advantage.

So, with the weapon still taut to his clenched jaw, you lean forward and ghost your lips over his. “What’s the matter, Daddy? Does power make you weak?”

The twitch of his cock is answer enough.

You go in for the kill. With your fingers dancing over the trigger button, you lean back and dip down before dragging your tongue up the length of the barrel.

His eyes nearly roll back, and the sound that leaves his chest is euphoric. You think you might just kill him.

Because you’re slow. Meticulous. Licking every inch of the weapon until you finally reach the tip still tucked just beneath his chin.

Then…you kiss him.

And he’s so overwhelmed that he growls into your mouth, no longer threatened by the gun at his throat. Instead grabbing onto the back of your neck in order to squeeze it tight and keep you close. Devour you the way he’s been so frantic to.

You don’t even realize that you’ve begun to lower the gun until you feel it snatched from your grasp.

And pressed tightly to your clit.

The cold surface of the weapon against the warmest part of your body has you arching your back with a whimper. He has the upper hand once more, and he’s certainly not about to waste it. Mouth curling up into a satisfied, smug grin at the way your expression has gone hazy.

You’ve never looked at another man the way you look at him and he knows it.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks softly, adding just enough pressure to make you whine. “All fucking night? The moment you saw me? Saw my gun? Wanted me to fuck you with it?”

Your nails meet your chest, scratching down the frigid skin in a desperate attempt to find something to ground you.

His only response is to drag the tip of the weapon down just a bit further. Until he can watch it glisten in you.

“Fucking looking at you,” he muses beneath a strained exhale, enamored by the way you subconsciously begin to grind on it. “So desperate to feel it. To be fucked by it. And what if I do, hm? What if I fuck you with my gun right here in this alleyway?”

You only whisper his name and an airy, “Please…”

“I thought about it,” he continues quietly, nose brushing yours as he slips the soaked barrel back up your cunt. “Thought about ripping off this pathetic little dress and fucking you right in front of your precious fiancé.”

You wish he had.

“You’d have liked that, wouldn’t you, mama?” His fingers drum against the handle. “Yeah? I know you would. Would have loved to watch him watch me.”

And he’s not wrong. He hardly ever is when it comes to your darkest fantasies, and it’s just one of the many reasons why you love him.

“But I had to wait,” he tells you now, finally pulling the gun away from your dripping clit until you nearly crumple to the cold concrete below. “Because after all this time…I’m the only thing that gets to fill you tonight, yeah?”

You simply nod again as he brings the gun back to your mouth with a proud grin.

And you know exactly what he wants, swiping your tongue all along the barrel and tasting every drop, every indication of your need for him. Swallowing it all as he watches proudly.

The moment you’re finished, he takes the gun and returns it to his pocket, tucking it away safely. Because he’s right again, and you need to feel him far more than you’ve ever needed anything else.

So, you grasp onto his face and bring his lips to yours, allowing him to pick up right where he left off.

Because as much as you love the power…you love being weak for him more.

At least in moments like this.

He fills you and fucks you until you’re dizzy. Until you can taste the pleasure and the unraveling.

You make a show of it. A way to apologize for all the time lost. Trailing the tips of your fingers along your own chest and down your sternum until you notice you have his attention.

He watches you take your tit into your palm before you’re tweaking the hardened nipple with a soft whine. Allowing your head to drop back into the wall while you do it again and again.

And he’s an angry sort of infatuated. Groaning almost pitifully before kissing you again and easily swatting your hand away in order to do it himself.

But that’s still not enough. So, you play your ace, and move your touch down to your clit in order to pinch it exactly the way he likes.

And it’s beautiful. The most exhilarating feeling, and this is what sends him over. The feel of your pussy clamping down on his cock, the sight of your fingers against your clit, the sound of your pathetic whimpers and pants as you cry out his name.

He fills you before he can stop himself, kissing you quickly as he releases into your aching, abused cunt.

Claiming you in more ways than one until you have no choice but to follow.

It rips you apart in the same way he ripped the dress. Until you see stars, and your back arches, and your toes curl. And everything makes sense.

He works to make it last for as long as he can, and once it’s all over, there’s a soft, tender moment of silence as you work to catch your breath.

You forget about everything else. The sirens, the lies, the deceit. Even Johnny. You forget about it all.

Because you got more than a diamond necklace tonight.

You got Harry back.

After a second or two more, you lazily reach up to sweep some of his rogue curls from his forehead. Wanting to really see his eyes as he holds you tonight.

“Harry?” you whisper into the cold, dark alley.

He hums. “Yes, mama?”

“I love you.”

And you’ve never seen him so happy. “I love you more,” he breathes, kiss you again as if to cement this vow.

Eventually, the moment comes to pass, and you have to drop your leg back down to the floor and part from him. You find that your muscles are sore, and just a touch achey, but you don’t even mind. Because it’s somehow just as deliciously pleasurable.

Harry works to readjust your dress and keep you covered; despite the way he’s ruin the expensive fabric. He offers you his jacket – insists on it. Wrapping it around your shoulders before you can even argue.

You smile as you snuggle into the warm material, feeling calmed by the familiar smell of him.

“There,” he says as he looks at you before his head tilts. “Just missing one thing.”

Curious, you watch as he slips his hand back into his pant pocket in order to fish something out.

The necklace.

He hadn’t told you about it before the mission. Only about the safe, and now you think you’re beginning to realize why.

He places it around your neck and readjusts the clasp until it can sit comfortably over your heart.

And you both look down as it sparkles from your chest, smiling together as though you truly can’t believe it’s real.

“You like it?” he whispers.

You grin so wide, your cheeks hurt. “I love it.”

He kisses you again, and it’s perfect.

Everything. All of it.

Him.

Suddenly, a loud toll echoes through the small town. The sharp chime coming from the clocktower in the town square.

Once, twice, three times.

Midnight.

“It’s Christmas,” you realize aloud as you and Harry both glance toward the clock.

His expression softens, and it makes your heart soar. “I guess it is.”

And then…you feel it. The first drop of something cold on your cheek. And then another. And another. And another. Gathering in your hair, getting stuck on his lashes.

Snow.

With a gasp, you look up into the dark sky as it dances down onto the quiet Chicago streets.

A rather perfect ending to a perfectly imperfect day.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

With a soft giggle, you curl yourself under his arm and press your lips to his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

He laughs, and you’ve never been so happy.

“Merry Christmas, Mama.”

I'M SORRY THIS ONE GOT A BIT DARKER, IT WAS FUN BUT MOSTLY JUST FOR THE ERA ASPECT!! Thank you for reading if you did and letting me write something a little weirder 😭💞

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs

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onlyangellucifer · 4 months

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Finally writing again hehe

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles filth #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry smut #my writing

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onlyangellucifer · 6 months

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Guru what is that first one… i… HELLO???

what is the last line you wrote in one of your fics or one shots?

Okay not much context for these except which au they are coming from so you can guess what's coming! And I'll include a full thought instead of just a single line.

Last bit from bfd!harry for Tumblr: And it wasn’t just that. It was that you could tell Harry was tense too. He was quiet. It made you nervous. Made you wonder if he was regretting his decision. He was loving when you’d first boarded the plane. But once it landed, he hardly looked at you.

Last bit from neighbor!harry for Patreon: Lifting a hand up, he brushed over his lips with the finger she had in her mouth only a few days prior and nodded, “I’d like to try a cream soda. Never had one before. Sounds like it tastes sweet.”

xoxo

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onlyangellucifer · 6 months

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I've moved recently and am really struggling with my mental health. I promise updates will come, I'm just trying to navigate life at the moment.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #mywriting #my thoughts

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onlyangellucifer · 7 months

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This is such a good one. Combining bfd!harry with boxer!harry has me going.. well the gif explains it best

Crush | bfd!harry

Best friend’s dad!harry x reader | older!harry x reader

Summary: When your feelings for Mr. Styles morph from just finding him attractive to a full on crush you feel a little guilty. But then when he shows an interest back in you at Fae's 22nd birthday party you two become close and eventually ebb on inappropriate, but you can't seem to stop.

A/N: This is a flashback from Y/n's point of view starting with when she began crushing on Harry, to Fae's birthday, and beyond. A little more insight into why they were so comfortable with one another when they began their affair.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning: 18+ only, smut (masterbation), a touch of angst, emotional almost cheating, age gap

bfd!harry masterlist

You had always found Harry attractive. The first time you went with Fae to her house and met her mom and dad you could recognize that your friend’s dad was a good-looking man.

But it wasn’t until the day you and Fae decided to go to the gym with Harry that you suddenly began to crush on him The gym had a big pool and sauna, and hot guys, according to Fae so you figured you’d spend a Saturday afternoon there.

You and Fae swam in the pool and then sat in the steam room until you were bored and decided to change back into your clothes and go look for Harry.

And when you found him… You stopped in your tracks. You hadn’t expected Mr. Styles to look like that.

He was boxing. Wearing a white t-shirt and athletic shorts. His hair was pulled out of his face with a clip that must have belonged to Fae or Mrs. Styles. He had gloves on and he was dancing around the other guy in the gym’s ring.

Of course, they were just sparring, there wasn’t any violent punching happening, but the way Harry handled himself had you dropping your mouth open in awe.

Fae turned back to look at you, “Are you okay?”

You couldn’t find your voice. You were in shock. Nodding your head you kept your eyes on Harry. His dark tattoos stood out with the sweat on his skin. His shoulders were broad under his sweaty white shirt and his moves were quick. Harry was clearly well-built. In much better shape than the guy he was sparring with who appeared to be closer to your age.

“Hey, Dad!” Fae waved at Harry as you stood back to take it all in.

Harry put his hands up in a signal to his partner to pause as he pulled his gloves off and spit the mouthguard out. You noticed that he glanced toward you and then began to move his mouth to answer Fae. You could barely hear. Your ears were ringing.

And then it was like you were suddenly being drawn in by tractor beams and you were unable to stop it as you moved yourself forward to where he stood in the slightly elevated, padded gym ring. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him and you couldn’t look away even when he made eye contact with you again and you saw the edge of his lip quirked up in a grin before he licked his lips.

And that stuck with you. That little smirk. The sweat on his neck. The look he’d given you. Was he perhaps also attracted to you somehow? Even if he was… well nothing would ever come of it.

On Fae’s 22nd birthday, you selected your outfit based on what you thought Harry might like. You pushed down your guilt about the way you’d been crushing on him and how you were hoping to at least catch his eye. You still never imagined that there’d ever be anything to worry about. It was just an innocent crush, right?

And you were so hot and turned on just imagining seeing Mr. Styles at your best friend’s birthday party, which was ridiculous, that you had to pull your panties off and find a new pair. But first, you needed to calm yourself and the best way to do that was to take your dildo out and use it on yourself.

At the time you still lived with your parents as you were in your last year of college and without a proper job. So, you locked your door and pulled up a photo of the only man you’d been masturbating to since the gym incident. The photo was of him with Fae. He was holding up a peace sign and he had the most adorable smile, complete with dimples, curly hair, and bright eyes. The nice thing about this picture was that he was staring directly into the camera as if he was watching you and that’s exactly what you wanted. His eyes on yours as you came imagining the dildo you were slipping inside of yourself was his cock.

And you knew Mr. Styles was hung. Knew he had a big dick. You hadn’t seen it, of course, but you could just tell. The natural bulge he sported, the occasional swing of his cock under athletic shorts when it appeared he wasn’t wearing underwear, and just his natural confidence told you he was well endowed.

You thrusted the thick silicone toy in and out as you rubbed your clit and peered at the photo of Harry, looking into his eyes. You’d scrolled in so the photo only had him in it. You could never do what you were at that moment if you could see Fae to his right.

You panted and then bit your lip to keep your noises down. The only thing to be heard in your bedroom was the slick press of the toy into your pussy.

And because you wanted to get to the Styles’ house early you did all the little things you knew would have you coming in under five minutes. The slip of your fingers on your clit and quick long thrusts of the toy into yourself with your eyes planted on Harry’s photo did the trick.

You peeped out a moan and threw your head back into your feather pillow as you closed your legs around the dildo and shut your eyes. It was Harry’s cock you were coming on. His deep, masculine voice coaxed you through, telling you that you were such a good girl for him.

After cleaning up and putting on a fresh pair of panties you smiled to yourself. You felt naughty. You were a bad girl to be imagining the things you were about Mr. Styles. But you couldn’t help it. Everything about him was sex and allure. His confidence and his charm drew everyone in. But the most attractive thing about him was how genuinely kind he was. He was sweet to his core.

You arrived about thirty minutes before you knew anyone else would begin to. You didn’t know why you wanted to get there early but when you realized Mrs. Styles’ car wasn’t in their driveway you felt a gush of excitement at the idea you’d be alone with him. Alone with Mr. Styles.

You found your way into the house, knowing you were always given permission to just enter when they were expecting you.

And there he was. In their lovely backyard setting up. He looked handsome in navy slacks with a white button-up shirt.

“Mr. Styles!”

He jolted and turned quickly to see you. You had scared him apparently. But then you watched in satisfaction as he dragged his eyes down your frame to take in your outfit. It was a well-fitted soft yellow dress with white polka dots. Your tits looked fantastic in it and the middle hugged your waist delicately.

“Hi, Y/n. How are you dear?” He pulled you into his arms and gave you a hug that lingered for a moment longer than necessary. He smelled amazing and you hoped he’d gotten a whiff of you too. You’d put on your nicest perfume and lotion.

When you both had backed away from the hug you felt yourself grow warm when his eyes dropped to your lips and then took in your neck and your face before he looked back up at your eyes. He looked stunned. Was it because you’d startled him when you arrived? Or… was there something behind this look… something behind the reaction he was giving to your presence?

After finding out it was just the two of you your mind delved into darkness quickly as you imagined him taking you right then on the table he stood next to. He could just bend you forward and slip your thong to the side and stuff himself inside of you.

“Well, I can go back inside. Don’t want to bother you or–“

But suddenly Harry wrapped his hand around your wrist and spoke over you, “It’s okay, Y/n. You’re never a bother.”

You hadn’t expected him to reach out for you as you looked down at his hand on your wrist and then looked back into his eyes. There was something there. In the way he was looking at you, in the way he was standing so close. As if he were seeing you in the same way you saw him.

And through the rest of the party you couldn’t keep your eyes off him but nearly every time you looked his way he was already watching you. It was a clear message. Maybe it would never be acted on, but the sentiment was clear. He found you attractive now. And the longing gazes from across the yard or at the table had your skin prickling and panties wetting involuntarily.

Before you left for the night you found Harry when no one was around. You’d done it on purpose. Wanted to give him a nice hug, something subtle but something to take with you and think about when you fingered yourself that night.

He stood up from his crouched position over the box he was stuffing with string lights and kept his dark eyes on yours. It almost looked like his pupils were blown out. But perhaps it was just the lighting.

You reached out for his hand, brushing your fingertips against his as you stepped in close to hug him, “This was fun, Mr. Styles.”

You slid your arms over his shoulders so he wrapped his around your low back and held you close, bodies molded together tight. You had your breasts pressed into his chest and then he turned his face in toward you as he spoke quietly, his breath falling over your ear and your neck, “I’m glad you were here tonight.”

You both stood like that for longer than was appropriate but it felt good. It felt like a little secret. Just for the both of you.

And things didn’t end there. You often visited Fae’s and went at times when you knew she might not be home. You and Harry would sit in his office and chat for hours sometimes. Usually, nothing suggestive happened but it always ended with a sensual hug. And each hug became more inappropriate until you two were pressed together at the hip before parting. You loved the brush of his dick against your thigh, even if he wasn’t hard, just the gesture of it was erotic. You could feel him and you were sure he was aware of it.

You always left with a shy smile and Harry’s eyes were dark and he looked like he could devour you. But that’s exactly what you wanted.

But still, you never imagined things would escalate.

Harry had given you his number eventually. For emergencies or if you ever needed to talk. And once in a while, you’d text him out of the blue. A link to an article that made you think of him, a funny meme to brighten his day. Eventually, the texts were more personal in nature. A good morning text. A how was your day text. A I’m sitting in traffic and need to be entertained text. And then he began to text you first some days. The first time he texted you first was a day you decided not to text him at all. Just to see if you could do it. To see if you could go one day without contact. Because it was silly, the game you two were playing and you knew it.

Haven’t heard from you today. Just checking in.

That one had you simply squealing and acting like you’d just been asked out on a date.

And when you started dating Randy you noticed that Harry liked to change the subject any time you brought him up.

“What did you do this weekend?” He asked you as you sat across from him in the cushy chair in his study.

“I went out with Randy again. He stayed the night on Satur–“

“That’s great. How’s school?”

He’d changed the subject so fast you got whiplash. And that seemed to be the way it went every time you brought up your boyfriend.

But he never stopped texting you and you never stopped texting him. All throughout your relationship with Randy. The heated hugs with faces turned inward as if you both wanted to part with a kiss, hips pressed together, whispers of “be good this week” that turned into “be a good girl this week” into your ear.

And then one day Randy hurt your feelings. He had already graduated from college and had a full-time job so he typically paid for most of your outings. You tried to chip in when you could but you were a full-time student working part-time at a fabric shop downtown and barely made anything to have any fun with.

So he’d make comments from time to time about the fact that he was the one paying so he got to do what he wanted when he wanted.

And normally you didn’t care. But the time he hurt your feelings was while you and a few friends were at his house watching a football game. His team was losing and you’d never seen Randy act like such a toddler before. Your last straw was when he slammed his fist into his coffee table, shattering a pint glass you had been drinking from, and then throwing his remote control into the wall, smashing it into tiny pieces.

“Calm down! It’s just a game,” you hurriedly spoke as you scrambled to get paper towel and a broom to clean up the mess he’d made.

He followed behind you as you grabbed the broom and he stopped you by grasping your shoulders, “Do not talk to me like that in my own place. I pay the rent here. I pay for everything else too. Until you start chipping in, you do not get to tell me to calm down.”

Your eyes filled with tears. Not because you were sad, but because you were pissed. You dropped the broom and flipped him off before grabbing your purse and getting out of there. You drove directly to Harry’s house. Mrs. Styles answered the door and she made you a cup of coffee. You told her that you’d just had an argument with your boyfriend and just needed to get away so the first place you thought of was the Styles’ house. Harry was on a call when you arrived and Fae wasn’t home once again.

“Look. Stay as long as you’d like, Y/n. I’m gonna go and get a few things at the market and I’ll be back in like thirty minutes. Just… don’t worry about that guy. Okay? You are free to watch TV or hang out in Fae’s room if you want. Our home is your home.”

You plopped on the couch and looked at your cell phone to see a missed call and a few missed texts from Randy. You were so angry with the way he spoke to you that you didn’t even bother to read what he had to say.

“Hey. What are you doing here?” Harry’s kind smile covered his face as he walked out of his study toward you and sat down next to you on the couch.

You huffed and leaned back into the couch, “Just needed a place to go. It’s Randy. He was rude to me. And I don’t know if I can forgive him for it. Maybe he was just talking in the heat of the moment but… it just felt really mean and I have never had a guy speak to me like that before.”

Harry took your hand and the big smile on his face had fallen into a serious expression, “What did he say to you?”

You described to Harry what happened, as well as the past occurrences with him mentioning how he paid for things and how that was easy to overlook but this time it felt like a real dig at you. An insult.

“Fuck him. You need to break up with him. I’d never speak to anyone like that. He was pulling a power move on you which is manipulative. You did nothing wrong.”

Harry’s thumb slid against your knuckles and you’d all but forgotten about how mad you were at your boyfriend at his soft gesture.

“Yeah. I know. I just couldn’t believe him. I think I’ll break up with him Friday morning cause I have the day free and he works in the afternoon.”

You looked up at Harry and into his eyes. You wished you could read his thoughts but figured that might be dangerous based on the way he was looking at you at that moment. It felt dreamy and lusty and with his hand grasping yours and his thumb brushing over your skin it made you dizzy.

“Good. You don’t deserve that, Y/n. Feel like I should go over to his apartment and beat his ass for speaking to you like that,” he lifted his free hand up to your face and thumbed over your cheek.

Your lips parted at his gesture and your breath caught. You both knew you were playing with fire. You were sat too close and Harry was touching you in a way a lover would. Yes, you were still fully clothed and perhaps to the naked eye this could be shrugged off as innocent but there was nothing innocent between you two in that moment.

“Promise me you’ll break up with him?”

You nodded and leaned your cheek into his hand further, “I promise.”

“Good girl, Y/n. I need you to let me know after you do it. Okay? Because I need to make sure you’re okay. His outburst today doesn’t give me confidence that he’ll take the news well.”

You nodded again and spoke softly, “Yes, sir.”

You watched him flutter his eyes closed as his chest rose with a deep breath before he pulled you into his arms for a hug. A seated hug. It was different than all the other hugs because he had to slot his knee between yours, your legs being pushed apart and even though your hips weren’t pressed together your legs were slotted between his and his face brushed against yours, his lips at your ear, “I’ll call you if I don’t hear from you. Because I need to know you’re okay after. Understood?”

You nodded and felt his face move, against yours, his nose pressed into your cheek. It was one of those moments when the air felt choked from your lungs as you moved your face in toward his and paused. Only an inch further and you’d have his lips on yours. Only an inch further and you could feel what you’ve longed to feel for nearly two years. Only an inch further and there would be no turning back.

He pressed his warm pink lips into your cheek, so near to your mouth and you felt him exhale from his nose as he gripped your ribs tighter. Your hand moved down until you’d settled it on his pants-clad thigh and opened your mouth to ready yourself for what you thought might come next as he brushed his nose inward, inward, inward.

But you were both stopped short and jumping apart the moment a car door closed. Harry stood up quickly and plucked at the front of his pants as he looked at you with wide eyes like he was suddenly broken from some magic spell he was under.

Mrs. Styles came in with two bags full of things she’d gotten at the market, “Har, will you help me put this away?”

Harry kept his eyes on you as he responded, “Yeah. Of course. Just sit it on the counter. I’ll be right in. Need to use the restroom first.”

And you figured you knew what he was doing behind those doors. Either he was cooling off or he was fucking his fist to calm himself because you did not miss the way his usual bulge was quite a lot thicker and more prominent in his pants as he walked toward the bathroom.

You had done that to him. You’d given him an erection and he nearly kissed you after telling you to break up with your loser boyfriend. And you couldn’t deny that it all had you riled up. Your heart was pounding as you stood wobbly to your feet and found Mrs. Styles in the kitchen.

“Uh… I’m gonna go home now. Thank you so much for letting me hang out here a bit and vent to you.”

She smiled at you and gave you a gentle hug, “Of course, Y/n. Anytime you need. I’m sorry Fae wasn’t here but we’ll always be here for you too you know.”

You nodded, “Yeah. Thank you. And… tell Mr. Styles I said goodbye too.”

If there was any doubt in your mind about breaking up with Randy before you spoke to Harry, well there certainly wasn’t any after. You sat in your car and touched the spot on your face where he had his lips pressed.

You had never intended for anything to go that far. And still, you couldn’t imagine the kind of mess that was just to come.

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onlyangellucifer · 7 months

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It's my 10 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

#10 year tumblrversary #tumblr milestone

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onlyangellucifer · 7 months

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MIA!?! Omg I can’t wait for the second part! Also vampy is a mechanic that’s so hot lol

Mia is an important person in this hehe & yes!! Mechanic!Harry meets Vampy!Harry

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #my writing #asks #vamp!harry

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onlyangellucifer · 7 months

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Dont worry fic me! I wouldve left the other guy for harry too. 😵‍💫

Just For Tonight | Ch. 3

This is the last part of this mini series! We might have some more coming for you - stay tuned!

Series Summary: Harry spots an angel in the crowd and he can't keep his eyes off of her. And, as if by some cosmic pull, he can't help but ask her backstage. But it's only going to be just for tonight. Or is it?

Chapter Summary: Is it true what they say? Does distance really make the heart grow fonder? Y/n isn't so sure so she tries to move on. But Harry has other plans.

A/N: In this chapter I mention a particular ex (without naming her) as part of the plot. This does not mean I feel one way or another about her, nor do I think this is an accurate representation of how she's acted after their split. This was requested for the story. This is a work of fiction.

Warning: 18+ only, smut, mentions of an ex, angst

Word Count: 11.8k

Commissioned by anon (thank you!! xoxo)

Just For Tonight Masterlist

It had been difficult for Y/n to stop thinking about Harry. They connected so well and she loved the way he was with her and how he carried himself. Loved the way they could talk about nothing and have it feel like the most interesting thing.

They had a few calls after he left LA for his tour. But that quickly became hard to navigate with the different time zones. He said he liked her and wanted to see her again. And she was sure that when he said that he meant it. The distance won, however.

But with his absence, with him being in another country on tour, and hundreds of people begging for a chance of what she got lucky enough to experience, she figured that what she’d gotten was probably all she’d ever get.

And that was okay. It wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted more of him. Would have loved to have seen him but she knew he was too famous and too amazing to settle for someone like her. She knew better than to ever get her hopes up. He’d done nothing wrong.

Instagram showed pictures of him with his friends and a mystery woman. A woman who was with him at one of his concerts. And then another one. Photos of them walking along the streets together. A fuzzy snap of them at a small café huddled closely. That was also okay. There had been no promises or commitments made.

Y/n hated to do it, hated to open up Instagram but her curiosity about Harry and if he’d been spotted by fans was eating at her. A DuexMoi post with a screenshot from his recent long-term ex’s Instagram account had her feeling nauseated. It was a subtle thing. Nothing specific but everyone picked up on the meaning. The text was a quote from a book she’d been reading over a picture of a close-up of her wearing a cross necklace.

The comments on what it meant were all over the place. And Y/n knew better than to read into anything too deeply or to fixate on something like this. Harry had brought up his ex once when their conversation was relevant to it. Said that she continued reaching out to him and that even when it was clear they were over the woman still called him and sent him messages on the regular.

And as much as she knew that it was probably nothing she couldn’t shake the way it felt to think of Harry and his ex getting back together somehow. She didn’t know anything about what he was doing at that moment because their calls had all but stopped by then. But the post from his ex was a signal. Did it mean anything? Maybe. But maybe it only meant something to his ex. Perhaps Harry hadn’t even seen it.

However, the comments on the post suggested they were talking again and reports of them trying to “work it out” were numerous.

And with that idea, she decided to log back into her stupid dating app. Try and get over the pop star once and for all. Move on if she could.

She’d had one good date from the app ages ago. The rest of the men who contacted her were absolute wastes but perhaps she’d find someone once again who she could tolerate for longer than a chat session. She’d give it a shot.

. . .

“But you did take her call?” Jeff spoke over the phone as Harry walked back to the hotel after a training session with Brad.

“Well, yeah. We have history. I didn’t want to be rude. Haven’t talked to her in a while. Thought maybe it could be important.”

“And was it?” Jeff sounded exasperated.

“No. She just said she missed me. Wants to see me when I get back to the States.”

Harry knew when he saw the incoming call from his ex that he probably shouldn’t pick up. But that was the thing about him. He was a people pleaser. He didn’t like when anyone was upset with him and he liked being on everyone’s good side. Even if it meant answering a call he didn’t want to take.

And part of him missed her. Missed what they had at the very beginning but he’d truly moved on. Especially with the idea that he’d be getting back to LA soon and seeing Y/n again. He hoped he hadn’t ruined it with her. It was hard to keep in contact with her. Too many missed calls and back-and-forth voicemails. Even the texts with Y/n had dwindled slowly. He understood that the distance was hard to overcome but that didn’t mean he wasn’t looking forward to hopefully seeing her again.

He knew if he had the chance to see her again and she still wanted to give it a shot with him he wouldn’t be letting go next time. He’d make it official. He’d want to really do it right with her. And he’d have a little time off from the tour to dote on her and give her lots of attention. Maybe even convince her that she should just travel with him wherever he went off to. Convince her that she should be his and that he would do everything he could to make her happy like she deserved.

He hoped it wasn’t too late.

And now with the new Instagram post from his ex the gossip had begun. Full articles written about how he and his ex were getting back together again, how it was true love, and a bunch of other nonsense that her story caused. And Jeff was pissed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t have taken her call. That’s sending her mixed signals and now with that godforsaken post she put up you’re already getting hate messages about taking her back. Calling you complicit. It’s a nightmare.”

Sometimes Harry really hated being famous. He didn’t even have to do much to get scrutiny. Sometimes one small little blunder, like answering a call could set off a chain of events that led him to where he was now, getting his ear chewed off by Jeff and having his fans upset with him.

But his main concern was if Y/n had seen it or not. He wondered what she thought about it. If she cared. He wondered how she was. If she’d seen anyone while he was gone. He missed her.

. . .

The job at The Dulcería had turned out to be one of the best things ever, income-wise anyway. She was exhausted and had little free time but she was pulling in pretty healthy tips and when it came time to pay her rent she had plenty left over to pay on time and stick the rest in savings.

Vyra steered clear for the most part but she did hover a bit any time Y/n had a table with a high roller or celebrity. Which, Y/n came to learn that not all celebrities tipped like Harry Styles. In fact, some tipped worse than normies to her shock.

One particularly demanding uber-famous model with her model friends was nice at first. Needed things brought out in a certain order, the wine had to be perfectly chilled or she wouldn’t drink from her glass, and then there was the lighting issue. She and her friends were snapping photos of themselves “eating” and the lights weren’t right.

Their table was full of The Dulcería’s most exclusive and expensive desserts (which the restaurant was famous for) and yet only a few bites were taken after uploading all their photos to Instagram. It was a shame that all of it had to be tossed when their table was cleared. It felt like it should be illegal. Belgian fine chocolate ganache, freshly made lemon curd, berries from the local market selected that very morning, handpicked herbs, candied pistachios, and fresh lavender cream. All that waste for nothing.

The tip that was left after that three-hour debacle was less than 5% of the bill. She assumed the woman who supposedly had many millions of dollars to her name would have given a better tip on a nearly $3,000 tab. Just imagine watching a rich woman clad in designer carrying a purse most people had to get on a waitlist for leaving a $145 tip on a $3,000 tab.

Still, even then, she was bringing in good tips and couldn’t complain often.

Her feet hurt and she smelled like the restaurant through and through at the end of her shifts. If she could have just collapsed into her bed and gone to sleep she would have. But the thought of not showering off first made her skin crawl. She needed the scent of food and spilled wine scrubbed from her pores.

And like she did nearly every night before falling asleep, she checked social media and then checked her dating app to see if there were any hits. Any worthy of a response from her.

One evening she did hear from a man who seemed intriguing. He appeared to be normal and handsome. So she sent him a response and opened up the chat option if he wanted to pursue something.

And the following day at the office she and Jimmy had chatted intermittently. She felt that sweet little familiar bubble of excitement in her tummy when her phone gave her a notification that he’d messaged her.

They made plans to meet up in person on a Wednesday after work at a bar near to her house.

It had been almost two months since she’d seen Harry. He did message her a few weeks prior but there was no call and when she responded he didn’t respond back. She figured it was time to look for something a little more serious. She knew better than to assume she and Harry were endgame. No matter how good the sex and connection were.

She stopped stalking Instagram and googling to find out where he was in the world. It was better for her own mental health to try and move on from him. He had been a fun fling. A great guy. Maybe one of the best “hookups” she’d ever had. Not maybe. He definitely was. He had been kind and thoughtful and fun. And he was great in bed.

But it was time to put that behind her now. A date with a nice, normal guy was in order. She just hoped she could erase the way Harry made her feel and that she wouldn’t compare every guy she tried dating to the pop star.

Jimmy was attractive in person to her delight. He worked downtown not far from where she did and they talked about mundane things like their commute (anyone living in or around LA will understand this is a hot topic), the buildings they worked in, and their jobs. When Y/n revealed she worked as a waitress on the side Jimmy seemed impressed by her even more.

After a few glasses of wine and for Jimmy, beer, they decided to part ways. It had been a good first meetup. Y/n was feeling buzzy and excited. Hopeful.

The chats with Jimmy continued but moved from the app to texts. They had plans to meet up again Monday evening.

Her weekend shift at The Dulcería was like any other. Tips were good. Some of the patrons were just so-so. Vyra was annoying but gave her space. But she was exhausted. She only worked an extra 18 hours a week as a waitress but after a few months, it began to wear on her.

So when Monday came around and she walked to the same bar to meet up with Jimmy she didn’t expect that the text she’d be getting wouldn’t be from her date.

Just as she was pushing through the doors to the bar she looked at her notification screen and nearly dropped her phone.

It was Harry.

She paused by the door for a moment, contemplating whether or not to read the text to see what he wanted or to wait until after her date. She decided on the latter out of respect for Jimmy.

The problem was, though, that Y/n couldn’t get it out of her mind what it was that Harry had texted her. It had been long enough that she figured he’d completely moved on. And was it fair of him to reach out again after all that time?

So, instead of feeling flattered, she started to feel the tiny crawling of annoyance and frustration dragging up her spine.

“I’d like to see you again soon. Maybe we can get dinner next time. Take a walk afterward along the boardwalk or something?” Jimmy said as he hugged Y/n goodbye before they went their separate ways.

“That sounds great. I’m free Sunday night if you want to do it then. Kind of hard most Fridays and Saturdays,” she shrugged as she felt Jimmy squeeze her hand.

“Sunday night sounds perfect. Can I pick you up?”

. . .

Hey, how are you? Miss you.

She read the text over and over again. That was all it said but why? Why send it? It wasn’t as if he couldn’t be allowed to text her. He had her number. They’d slept together a couple of times and had gotten to know one another beyond just surfacey stuff. But still.

Instead of texting him back, she decided to leave him on read. She needed time to figure out how to respond. What to say, or if she should say anything. Maybe she should just leave it so he got the hint about what was going on. That she didn’t want to open up that chapter again and get herself hurt. Because she would get her heart broken by Harry if she let herself get lost in it.

And it wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong at all. It was clear that what had happened between them had just been casual. Good, fun sex. So responding to him wouldn’t have been weird but there was a part of her that felt like maybe he’d dug his way into her heart a little more than she was ready to admit. If she was taking his innocent text so seriously and pondering it so deeply, perhaps there was more to it. Which meant she needed to let it go for her own good.

So she did leave him on read. But more for her sake than his she figured.

. . .

Harry couldn’t understand why she hadn’t responded. He could see that she’d read the text. But why not respond? He wondered if this meant she’d moved on. Maybe she’d seen that post from his ex and figured he was on his way to getting back with her somehow amidst all the rumors.

He was aware of how things were between himself and Y/n. He’d given in and fucked his own rule to not sleep with someone who was supposed to be a one-time thing more than once. To go back for more. But when he saw her that night at the restaurant he felt like somehow it was fate. Not like a deep sort of forever kind of fate, but more like a this is okay to indulge in more than once kind of fate. He usually didn’t like doing that but with Y/n it felt different. And she was hot. And funny. And the way she handled him in bed had definitely left a mark on him. She wasn’t just a fan or a casual sex partner. She wasn’t just some girl.

So that’s why he texted her. He was coming back to LA in a couple of weeks. Figured they could see one another again and have some fun. But maybe that was the problem. She was more than just fun for a night. He liked her a lot. And perhaps she was feeling something similar and needed to put that distance there so she didn’t get hurt. Harry could understand that.

While he was away he had one of his good friends along with him. He liked to have someone he trusted, which was rare in his world. He had a hard time trusting most people. She was easygoing and didn’t want anything from him sexually so she was a perfect confidant and companion to have traveling with him. It was nice to have friends like her. Something that didn’t need to be anything but friendly. Someone that he could joke around with and not worry much about being on his best behavior with.

She even gave him great advice about Y/n and then his ex after the disaster of her Instagram post. He knew he’d been snapped with her as he was out and about. On walks, in restaurants, in group settings. There were of course the usual rumors that they were dating but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

He imagined that Y/n had seen the photos of him walking with the girl next to him. Plus the post from his ex wasn’t helping matters. Maybe it had all been too much for Y/n? Or maybe he was overthinking it all. He wasn’t quite ready to give up but he’d let her be until he returned.

. . .

Jimmy took Y/n to a cute little Mexican spot Sunday night and they ordered margaritas and Baja tacos with guacamole and cactus salad.

And Jimmy looked extra attractive that evening. She hadn’t noticed before then that his forearms were so thick. He had a sweater on that he’d pushed up to his elbows baring his arms. A bit of scruff on his face. And he smelled nice.

She felt like maybe they’d had enough dates and had gotten to know one another well enough that going back to his place might be fun. She wouldn’t mind a fun romp in the sack with him.

So when they walked back to Jimmy’s car she decided to go out on a limb, “Would you… what do you think about maybe going back to your place together? Or mine? I was thinking we could kind of relax and continue our conversation a bit?”

Jimmy opened the passenger door for her to let her into his car, “Oh. Yeah! Absolutely. Whichever place is better for you. It’s up to you. Mine or yours.”

And because Y/n wanted to do more than just “continue their conversation” she figured his place was best since Brad was probably home. The last time she had a man in her bed was Harry and Brad hinted at having heard them the next day. Not something she wanted to repeat nor subject poor Brad to again.

Jimmy lived in a one-bedroom apartment. He had no roommates which was ideal.

“So, I just want to tell you that right now I’m not looking for a serious relationship. I still have my profile up and kind of chatting with another girl but it hasn’t gone anywhere. I think once we get to know one another a little more maybe we can talk about being exclusive. Does that sound okay?”

She appreciated Jimmy’s honesty. And she was glad that he told her before they’d gotten any further. Because they were both sitting on his couch and making out heavily. In fact, her hand was already slowly making its way up his thigh when he stopped her to come clean.

She paused and thought for a moment. Was that okay? She began to nod and turned her gaze back to her date, “Thank you for telling me. And yeah… I think I can agree to that. Let’s just keep being honest with one another like this and I think it’ll be really good,” she leaned in when Jimmy grinned at her answer and she climbed over his lap, not ready to stop the direction they were already headed.

And just as she’d intended when she left the restaurant with Jimmy they had sex after clearing the air about their status.

It was good. She liked having sex. She didn’t do it a lot. Maybe she’d have one or two a year at most. Hopefully, Jimmy would be someone she could keep around. She hated dating and finding someone she could trust.

Jimmy didn’t get her off, though. He tried. He ate her out, which she was already very pleased with. Not all men would go down on a woman without having to be prompted. Jimmy was eager.

But when that didn’t get her off she told him to get a condom so they could have sex.

Again, he was eager. Quite good really. But as was typical for having sex with anyone for the first time, she didn’t come. She was nice and wet and super turned on but it just didn’t happen.

She didn’t mind much. He did hit some really good spots that made her moan and got her close a few times. He tried rubbing her clit to get her off before he could come but it didn’t do it for her. She guided his fingers over her the way she liked but he needed time to figure out her body a little. Nothing wrong with that at all.

And he knew she didn’t come. He was disappointed in himself when he pumped into his condom and groaned in his orgasm. He apologized profusely and tried to eat her out again but she was tired. They’d been going at it for a while because his goal was to make her come.

“It’s okay. Really. Jimmy, you’re so good. It’s always like this the first time for me. I had so much fun with you.” She cupped his jaw.

While what she was saying was mostly true, she couldn’t stop imagining how Harry had gotten her off his first time. And the second time and the following morning before he left. She tried to swallow down those thoughts and not let that interrupt her moment with Jimmy but she couldn’t help it. Harry’s moves were just better and his dirty talk and his body. And his cock. And him.

She closed her eyes to squeeze out that image from her mind. There was nothing wrong with Jimmy’s body or his dick. He was fine. She was sure that after some work he’d be getting her off soon enough. They’d eventually get very comfortable with one another and sex would be better and she’d orgasm easier.

Really at the end of the day she wanted to feel close with someone. And she got exactly that with Jimmy. He pulled her into his chest and they fell asleep in his bed. She might have not gotten her orgasm but she got the connection and closeness she’d been craving and missing.

. . .

The following week they skipped going out for a date altogether and Jimmy cooked for her at his place. He was a pretty romantic person. A genuinely nice guy. Handsome, funny, smart. But their second time having sex was not different from the first. Y/n was sure she’d come and had gotten close a few times but it still just didn’t happen.

And for the first time in her life ever, she faked it. She felt she had to. The poor guy was suffering. He was hammering into her and grunting and shaking, continually pulling out before he could release. For nearly half an hour that was the scene.

He tried holding her legs to the side and thrusting into her as he hovered over her but she needed something more, she was sure. Her own fingers at her clit and his cock slipping in and out just didn’t do the job. So she got on all fours and Jimmy’s bed creaked and bounced and it felt really good. Just not good enough.

Finally, when she rode him she felt that yummy gooey thing she always got just before coming but the moment she began to quiver and just before she could come Jimmy’s words halted any further gooeyness, “Finally, fuck!”

That had done it. She wasn’t going to come. He didn’t mean it to be rude, she was sure. Jimmy was the sweetest guy, truly. But that little bit was all she needed and her orgasm was ruined. So when she felt him throbbing in his condom she moaned and clenched and did all the stupid acting a porn star would to fake her orgasm.

For him to say finally in response to thinking she was coming. Really? That had irked her. She wished he hadn’t said that.

But it didn’t deter her. She really did like the guy. And surely the third time would be the charm. Except it wasn’t. The following morning he ate her out and then they had sex and he got off while she faked it again. She had to get going anyway because it was Monday morning and she had to be at the office.

It felt good to be dating someone. Even if it was casual. Jimmy had mentioned he hadn’t seen anyone else, but she didn’t miss it when he said “yet”. And part of her preferred it casual with Jimmy. Liked that her options were still open for the time being. But it did feel good to be in a relationship of sorts. Felt nice to know that someone liked her enough to keep texting her and seeing her and wanted to sleep with her. It felt grownup. That’s what she wanted. Connection. Relationship. And that’s what Jimmy gave her. In due time they would be more sexually compatible. She was sure.

On Friday night at the restaurant, she was given a couple of large groups. They were relatively nice. Perfectly well-behaved groups. Jimmy had been texting her all night. He was hoping to see her and have her stay over until the following morning before she had to be at work.

She hadn’t decided if she would or not. She sort of wanted to sleep her morning away before needing to be on her feet all night again. And she figured she could use her dildo and make herself come because she was sure Jimmy couldn’t. She knew that he wanted to have sex with her and at that point it just sounded exhausting. Now every time they got together the night ended with sex and a failed orgasm on her part. She didn’t know if something was wrong with her or if maybe she wasn’t as compatible with Jimmy as she thought. But she knew one thing. He wasn’t getting her off like she needed. And her feelings about that were giving her pause. She wondered if she was just settling for casual dates with Jimmy. Wondering if Harry had ruined her for anyone else.

So when she was suddenly interrupted coming out of the kitchen to check on one of her tables she jumped at his voice. It had been unexpected.

“Harry? What are you doing here?” She looked around and the bustling restaurant and then back up at the handsome man. Her body tingled at his presence and she got that lightheaded excitedness that she felt every time she saw him. And she realized that that was something she never experienced with Jimmy.

“I just wanted to say hi. You hadn’t texted me back the last time I reached out and I’m here for dinner right now and saw you walking back and forth. Just wanted to see how you are.”

She didn’t realize Harry had been there. Usually, the servers would mention any time anyone famous came in.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m well. Just… gosh I’ve been really busy. How have you been? I didn’t know you were back.” She decided not to address the fact that she hadn’t responded to his text nearly a month ago.

“I’m great. Been back in LA for almost a week. Missed you.”

Missed you. Yeah, she missed him too if she were honest. But she’d been pushing it all down. Covering up her feelings with Jimmy.

“That’s… I uh… missed you too.” She didn’t know what else to say. Out loud anyway. Internally she was telling him all about how the guy she’d been dating was super sweet but terrible in bed. Well, not terrible. But not Harry. And he didn’t make her feel all floaty and full of syrup and butterflies and anticipation the way Harry did. How she was having trouble connecting with Jimmy the way she could with Harry. God, how she’d love to have another round with him again. Feel that yummy stretch he gave her, that sharp deep poke, listen to his deep voice in her ear as he coaxed her through an orgasm that had her shaking and slobbering into the sheets.

“Yeah? Maybe I can see you after? I’ll stick around til you get off.”

Her mind was playing tricks on her. Til you get off. Yeah, she knew that would happen if she allowed him to stick around. She’d get off all right. He’d see to it. She should say no. Should tell him she’s seeing someone. It’s not serious but she shouldn’t do that to Jimmy. But then again…

“Okay. Yeah. I’d like that. Should be done here in an hour and a half. Is that okay?”

“F’course. I’ll be here.”

She felt immediate guilt. Jimmy didn’t deserve to be put on the back burner. He was too sweet. And there was nothing wrong with him. Sex wasn’t amazing but it wasn’t bad and eventually, she’d get used to him and she’d orgasm with him. Surely. Right? But the biggest thing that nagged at her was the way she felt around Harry. Just having him standing before her and speaking to her had her feeling things she realized she never felt with Jimmy. Maybe Jimmy wasn’t a good match for her.

And she and Jimmy weren’t exclusive. That had been made clear at the beginning. Jimmy did say that he wasn’t ready to be serious with anyone and that he wanted to get to know her for a while before any commitments were made. So it wasn’t like she was actually doing anything wrong. And it wasn’t as if Harry was asking her to have sex with him. Not by any means. Perhaps it was just to chat. To just catch up.

. . .

It was most definitely not just to chat. But of course, she knew that. Harry had her in his bed nearly the minute they walked into his huge mansion. It was the first time she’d been to his place and she barely had a moment to look around before he was dragging her to his master suite. They’d made out the entire way from the restaurant to his place in the back of the car. She couldn’t help it. It was like magic between them. Like fate. Like they were meant to be. She felt powerless to it.

“God I missed you,” he whispered into her neck as he gripped the back of her head, “Have never kissed anyone with softer lips.”

She was wet nearly instantly. Jimmy had to work hard to get her in the state she was with Harry after only five minutes of a hot, backseat makeout session.

In his room, she pulled his pants down and dropped to her knees. She needed to see him. Needed to dig her nails into his thick, masculine thighs. She panted as she leaned in and pressed her lips over his tiger tattoo and ran her hands upward to cup his bulge.

Harry watched her from her position on her knees before him and finally felt like he was home. There was something about this girl that he couldn’t shake. He had missed her. And the whole reason he had gone to The Dulcería that night was to see her.

So he was surprised when she so easily said yes to seeing him after work. Surprised when she flirted with him and responded to his touch with touches of her own. Surprised when she kissed him in the back seat of the cab and now more than anything, was pleased by the direction the night was going.

He decided before he even saw her that night that he wanted to make her his. Wanted it to be official. He could see himself getting serious with her. Saw himself bringing her with him everywhere. Falling in love. The whole nine.

Her lips sucked and pulled at his cock and it was better than he remembered. There was certainly nothing like the real thing when it came to getting head and Harry had been doing a lot of imagining over the months. He’d missed her warmth and her eyes. Her wet lips slipping over his shaft.

She coughed and gurgled around him as she sat back for a breath and stroked him in her hand. He brushed his fingers along her temple to move her hair from her face and she was already looking up at him. Her top had been unbuttoned and he had a view of her big tits held in by her bra and her soft eyes looking up at him with his cock in her hand.

“Fuck, angel. Missed you so much.”

She smiled and leaned in with her pink tongue sticking out before licking over his balls, gently kissing and sucking at the skin. He moaned as she moved upward over his shaft and to his crown before popping him back into her mouth.

Another good gag had Harry pulling her up, “Darling, take your clothes off,” he said through soft breaths as he pulled his shirt off and kicked his pants down the rest of the way off his legs.

She removed her work outfit and could smell the restaurant on herself, “I should like, shower or something. I smell like kitchen and food…”

Harry dragged her into his arms and stepped her back toward the bed, “Just like you are. I need you now.” He spoke against her lips.

She was pushed into his bed, her naked body under his with his soft mouth drinking her in. His lips moved from her jaw to her neck and suckled at her tits for a while before he got down to business slurping away at her cunt.

Yes. Okay. That was good. Harry was good. And she knew it wasn’t just because he was so skilled. No. She realized that it was because of the way she felt for Harry. Her heart thundered in her chest wildly as she yanked his hair and ground her pussy into his face. Harry sucked and kissed and fingered wetly as he moaned into flesh. It was everything. Harry was everything.

When she splashed a bit on his face from her orgasm Harry sat back with a laugh as he massaged the inside of her thighs. She forced herself to open her eyes to look at him. He was breathing heavily, his chest flushed pink, his cock thickened and erect. Ready to be pressed right into her sloppy pussy.

He had a hand at his base as he smoothed his weepy tip through her hot and sticky crease. He small whine fell from his lips before he got up to grab a condom. He would have loved to have just fucked her raw but they’d need to talk about all that first. And they’d barely done any talking that evening.

She pushed herself up to her elbows to watch Harry as he stood next to the bed and looked down at his girthy cock, sliding the condom over himself. She couldn’t wait to feel him inside of her again. At long last.

His strong body was insane. She’d never get over it. Wanted to drag her tongue over every inch and drink up his sweat and taste the salt in her mouth. God, he made her insatiable.

Harry kneed up to her on the bed, his heavy condom-covered dick swaying until he pulled her toward him and planted his lips onto hers. Soft and sensuous. The way he kissed her was enough to call it all off Jimmy. It had her head spinning and her tummy doing somersaults. Never something Jimmy had accomplished in their couple of months of dating.

He was breathing hard as he backed from the kiss and looked over her bare body, “I needed this so bad. God… You have no idea how much I missed you, Y/n.”

She really didn’t know. Because she imagined he was getting plenty of ass while he’d been away.

Harry laid her down on the bed, her back flat on the mattress as he leaned over her frame and attached his lips to her breasts one at a time. She could feel his cock dragging over her as he moved from one nipple to the other.

He felt her buck upward under him and he smiled as he popped off her nipple and looked down at her, “Need something, angel?”

She nodded with a grin, “Your cock. Please.”

Harry groaned and thumbed over moistened nipples before grasping his shaft with one hand and planting his palm down onto the mattress to hold himself up over her.

“Yeah? Please? You missed me, angel?”

“Oh my god…” she moaned as she felt his tip press against her entrance, “Yes. Oh my god, I missed you.”

Harry sat back onto his haunches so he could watch as he entered her. It was his favorite view. The way she spread open, the tight little snap of him entering her clenching muscle, how nicely she took all of him. He pushed in and pulled back, wetting himself as he inched in further and further. She was sopping and had coated his condom in her drippy juices. He moaned as he dipped in deeper and watched her mouth drop open in relief at the feel of him stuffing her pussy.

When he’d gotten in balls deep he sighed, “Oh fuck, angel. I’m gonna treat you so good.” And he didn’t just mean while he was fucking her. He meant it in every way one could. He was going to treat her exactly as she deserved.

When he began to thrust in and out with long and languid strokes, the poke into her belly was toe-curling. She’d missed the way his cock felt and missed him. Missed him more than anything.

The patting of their skin slapping together wetly sounded as good as it felt. Harry moaned and Y/n gasped. He was deep. It was as if he’d somehow grown in size since he’d been away but she was sure it was just because Harry was Harry. She liked his dick but she just really liked him.

Harry had a nice grip on her thighs to keep them spread so he could have an unobstructed image of what he was doing to her, “God your little hole is just taking me, baby…” he groaned.

She peered up at him, his abs and his thighs flexing as he worked himself into her steadily. Every time he plunged in he nudged himself into her with a quick buck at the end to push himself as far in as he could get, causing her to jolt upward and whimper at the ache.

“Your cock… oh god Harry…” she didn’t know what she was trying to say. Except maybe just that she was really enjoying him. A compliment to how good he felt. How good he was.

Harry rhythmically rocked into her and released one of her thighs to use his thumb on her clit. He softly smoothed his pad over her sticky and aroused nub and she gasped. Harry grinned at her as she reached down to feel the mess they were making, her fingers slipping next to his and then lower, to feel where his cock was sliding in and out, spreading her pussy apart, the wet hair at his base, his balls as they nudged into her when he buried himself in.

“My cock? Yeah? That feel good inside you?”

“Yes, fuck… your gonna make me come so hard,” she moaned her words as she kept her fingers held against the spot where he was pushing into her, slick and creamy.

“Feel that? Feel how wet you get for me? How hard you make me?” He sucked in a sharp breath when her fingers glided along his balls and he stilled his hips, grinding himself into her. She was forced to move her fingers back up to her clit as Harry grasped her hips and pulled her over him so she could feel just how deep he was.

“God I wish I could fuck you without a condom. Come inside of your sweet cunt and fill you up like you deserve.”

She moaned at his words and the way he was buried inside of her guts. Her eyes fluttered closed as she continued to finger over her clit. That sounded exactly like what she wanted too. Wanted to feel him pouring into her and then watch it leak out slowly as he stuffed it back in with his tip.

“Oh my god, Harry. That sounds good…” She looked down at where his pelvis was pasted to hers as he circled his hips into her.

“Yeah? Gonna make you mine, baby and then I’m gonna fuck you raw and come inside of you over and over again. You want that?”

Nodding her head, she had a pained, fucked-out expression on her face, “Yess…” she panted.

Harry leaned over her body, not able to resist kissing her any longer. He needed his mouth on hers immediately.

The quick change of position had Y/n gasping as Harry shifted over her and pressed his lips to hers. The smooth strokes of his cock started up again as he planted his mouth over hers and licked against her tongue.

Intimate. That’s what it was. Harry was intimate but it felt especially real. Especially meaningful. She tried not to think about how soft and loving he was being with her because it felt so much like what someone would do if he was in love.

But then suddenly he took her hand and wound his fingers into hers, pressing their joined hands into the bed next to the pillow her head was on, as he continued thrusting and kissing. That gesture totally tipped her mind into that place she didn’t want to go. That place that told her he was just as into her as she was into him. That he wanted her and only her.

She bent her knees and planted her feet flat, lifting her hips upward each time he pushed in. It was wet and hot between them. Harry’s body over hers was solid and strong as he fucked into her with everything he had. She felt it too. Felt him put his whole body into each thrust.

Their hands stayed wound together tightly as Harry licked into her mouth. They parted only for gasps of air and to let out whimpers and moans.

“Please, Y/n…” Harry whispers against her lips before opening his mouth over hers and smoothing them together, closing his mouth around her tongue and then pressing his tongue passed her lips. She wanted to ask him why he said please but her brain was scrambled and focused on the way their bodies moved together. How good he felt. How good she felt.

Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it. She was certain Harry could hear it too. His pelvis stayed pressed into her clit and each time he stuffed himself into the hilt he undulated his hips as she tilted her own pelvis into him.

“Oh fuck!” She cried when Harry hit something inside of her that made her body tingle. She’d felt nothing like it before but she was sure it wasn’t just something physical he was nudging into. It was something emotional. She was doomed to his charm. Doomed to fall for him whether she wanted to or not. But how could she not?

Harry pushed himself up, his hands still wrapped around hers, “Okay, angel?” His soft, beautiful eyes would haunt her. Dark lashes and a dark limbal ring that lined his already perfect shade of green…

“It just… it feels so good, Harry. You’re making me feel so good,” she panted her words.

Harry dragged his gaze from her eyes down to her tits, “Want you to ride me, okay? Want to see how you fuck yourself on me.”

Nodding her head Harry slid himself out with a soft hiss as he grasped his cock and watched the tiniest bit of liquid gush from her pussy. She’d only gotten wetter as he fucked her.

Harry took her hand and brought it to his lips, “What are you doing to me, Y/n?”

She sat up as they kept their eyes locked and Harry grasped the back of her neck and kissed her again. They sat in the middle of his massive bed, both on their knees, naked and kissing urgently until Harry sat back and pulled Y/n with him, dragging her body over his, never letting their lips part.

She straddled his lap as he grasped her hips and pressed her wet cunt to his impossibly hard erection. When he’d finally laid his back into the mattress she placed her palms over his pecs and felt his hands at her ass, guiding her up so she could put him back in as quickly as possible.

Letting her fingertips travel over his chest, feeling the hair on her palm, the sturdy muscle under his soft skin, she scraped lightly and leaned down to lick his nipple. She smiled when he moaned and as badly as she wanted to have his cock back inside of her she needed to show her affection to his gorgeous body. At least a little.

Moving her lips to his other side she licked over his pebbled nippled and looked up at his face. His eyes were closed and his mouth was dropped open. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as she nipped with her teeth gently.

Harry groaned and opened his eyes, lifting his head to watch her work over him with her teeth and her tongue, “Fuck, baby.”

Y/n grinned and lifted her mouth from his skin, “Harry, your body is fucking incredible. I could lick and kiss it all day long.”

With her eyes on his she leaned down and stuck out her pink tongue to drag up from the underside of his peck up to his other nipple. She pulled it into her mouth and scraped her teeth over it before kissing it. She dotted warm pecks upward to his clavicle and licked as she went.

Harry’s whimpers grew desperate as he watched her lick and kiss his skin. But he needed to have her on him. His cock was aching and with the sweet and adoring attention she was giving him with her tongue and her lips he was going mad.

Harry grasped her hips and the pathetic whine that fell from his throat had her peeking up at him again, “Please, angel. I need you to fuck me.”

And well, that was all it took. He had said please after all. She lined up herself over his tip and began to sink over him, her pelvis tilted into him, “Okay, baby. I’ll fuck you now. God I need you too…” they moaned loudly as she slid over him until her pussy lips were kissing the very base of his cock.

She kept her hands pressed to his chest as she gently rocked herself over him. Harry moved her up and down slowly, keeping his hands on her bottom, and watched her pretty face contort at the feel of him splitting her pussy apart on his big cock.

“God you’re already creaming all over baby. So fucking wet I can hear it.” Harry spoke through gritted teeth. He loved the way she looked on top, her tits gently jiggling at each roll of her hips, her wet mouth dropped open, her eyes fluttering open and closed in ecstasy.

“You make me so wet, Harry. No one gets me wet like you. I need you…” she groaned as she bucked her hips down over him.

“Yeah? Need me, baby? I can tell…” he gasped when she clenched over him, “Can tell by the way you’re fucking yourself on me. Gonna get yourself off on my cock, angel?”

Y/n keened when Harry lifted his hips up the tiniest bit, forcing his cock deeper yet. A delicious sting.

“Harry… fuck!”

Harry breathed in a shaky breath and pulled at her elbow to bring her body down toward his. He wanted more contact. Wanted her closer. Wanted to kiss her as they both released together because he could tell she was nearly there.

The moment her lips were pressed to his he bent his knees slightly and tilted his pelvis upward so he could thrust into her as she fucked herself down onto him. Wet squelches and soft gasps surrounded them as they kept their bodies connected, on edge, trembling.

One of Harry’s hands smoothed down to her bottom while he took his other to bring her fingers into his. He wanted it sensual, erotic, soft, lusty. There was something about fucking Y/n and having his lips on hers and her hand in his that was making his heart swell with affection. He’d never have enough of her.

She shivered over him and he knew it wasn’t because she was cold. There was no way her body was cold with the way they had been going at it. No. He knew her shiver was because she felt it. Felt what he was. Knew this was it for them.

Her breasts were smushed into Harry’s chest and her thighs were squeezing around him as she continued pushing herself down over him. Her small hand in his with her fingers threaded between his was warm.

“Shit… you coming baby?” Harry felt her limbs tense and the tight muscle at her entrance grip around his cock in pulses.

“Fuck… yess! Fuck!” She couldn’t stop her orgasm from finding its way to the surface. She hadn’t expected it to burst out of her so quickly but having her hand surrounded by his while his cock was buried inside of her was not a casual sex move and that notion alone had her spinning out of control.

He was holding her hand and kissing the edge of her mouth through it all and now that she was coming around him, he squeezed her hand tighter and whispered to her through her orgasm, “There you go, angel. Made for me, aren’t you? My good girl…” she writhed and whimpered in her climax and he could tell it felt good. Could tell she was getting what she deserved.

Harry let her spasm around him for a moment longer until he couldn’t hold on for another second. He lifted his hips and gasped as he spurt into his condom. Gushes of hot come filling the rubber tip as he throbbed inside of her.

She felt his prick pump against her slick walls as he came. His breath was caught in his throat as he released into his condom. The grasp he had on her hand was locked down hard. She would have complained that it hurt but the last thing she wanted to do was have him release her in any way. She always wanted this with him. The closeness, the intimacy. The insane connection they had.

When Harry finally filled his lungs with air and his face relaxed her felt her slumped into his chest. He loosened his grip on her hand but didn’t let go. He wouldn’t let go. Never.

She’d passed out. Simply exhausted after Harry had handled her body like he owned it. Exhausted after giving every inch of his body her attention and love because damn did he deserve it. He was breathtaking. The man deserved to be worshipped. He was stunning and the way he gave himself to her was mind-blowing.

. . .

Blinking her eyes open the morning light was barely peeking through the window. It must have been super early. He was still asleep next to her. Hair a mess, cheeks smushed, small breaths puffed out from his mouth (he slept with his mouth opened she learned after the few times they’d slept together).

She was feeling something deeper for Harry than she wanted. The guilt about ignoring Jimmy and going home with another man was eating at her. Jimmy didn’t deserve that. He was a nice guy. A normal guy. But Harry was different. And it wasn’t just because he was hot and famous. It was because they understood one another in a way that she didn’t know if she’d ever get to with Jimmy. And that didn’t feel great.

Especially because Harry was… well he was Harry Styles. Falling for him would be dangerous and she’d have her heart broken. She could fall for him too. Another round of sex like they’d had the night before and it would be over for her. She’d tip over the edge of no return and need him in a way he’d never need her. She might just have to settle for Jimmy in that case. Perhaps that would really be as good as it could get for her.

Slowly slipping out of his bed she went to the bathroom with her phone.

She powered it back on and cringed when she had a couple of missed notifications from Jimmy. Not only had she kind of betrayed his trust and slept with someone else after he asked her to come over, but she wasn’t totally honest with Harry either. Hadn’t told him about the guy she’d been dating. A guy she was working on getting to know and could see herself dating long-term. Well, she could have seen Jimmy as someone long-term had it not been for Harry being so goddamn perfect.

Could she see herself with Harry long-term? She could actually but the reality was he probably didn’t see her in the same way. She chalked up his words and the intimacy with him just being a very sensual and sexual and vulnerable man. He was probably that way with everyone he slept with. She didn’t want to assume it was because he liked her just as much as she liked him.

Splashing her face with water she sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. She knew what she needed to do. To protect herself. To make things right.

She needed to go home and tell Jimmy everything. And then she needed to decide if she could see herself being exclusive with Jimmy or not. Could she settle? She’d let Harry get under her skin. She didn’t know how he’d done it so fast but maybe it was just his natural charm. Whatever it was, she knew Harry would be okay. Knew it was unlikely that he felt anything close to how she was feeling.

Her Uber driver arrived faster than she thought. She rushed out of Harry’s bedroom, down the stairs, and out the door, before she even had time to write a little note. She fully intended on doing that but it was too late. It was time to put it all behind her. Maybe this was going to get Harry out of her system once and for all.

But she could be dumb at times.

. . .

Instead of coming clean to Jimmy right away, she broke down the moment she got into her bedroom. She regretted everything. The way she handled Jimmy. The way she gave in to Harry. The way she left Harry without saying goodbye.

What was she thinking? She was too young to be going through a midlife crisis but she was at an age where she needed to grow up and start making big girl decisions. Settle down with a good man. Jimmy was surely that man. A normal guy. Someone in her league. But maybe she so easily gave in to Harry because Jimmy still had his dating profile active and that stayed with her in the back of her mind. Their casual dating relationship meant they were allowed to see who they wanted.

But Harry was… There was something there. Something else that she didn’t have with Jimmy. That she wasn’t sure she’d ever have. But that was why she needed to cut it out with the famous man. He was famous. He was exceptional in so many ways and there was simply no way he’d feel for her what she felt for him. He was too good to be true.

The messages from both men continued through the day. She shut her phone off when she got to work. She just couldn't face it. Couldn’t deal with it. Tomorrow. She’d figure it out tomorrow. Explain everything to Jimmy and to Harry. Harry would be okay. She knew he would be. He’d probably felt relief that she didn’t stay in fact. Made it easier for him so he didn’t have to break it to her that that should be their last time together. Though, she hadn’t read any of the messages he sent (she simply couldn’t bring herself to) she was sure he would be the easy one to deal with. Jimmy, though… She hoped he’d forgive her. But she knew she needed to call it off with Jimmy as well. Nice enough, a great guy for just about anyone. But maybe not for her. Especially not when she couldn’t stop comparing him to Harry. So she’d made up her mind. She’d call Jimmy the following day and sort things out with him. Tell him they had a good run and then that would be that.

But sometimes things in life don’t always go as one imagines. Do they?

With her phone shut off, she had missed the calls and the subsequent texts from both men. She had not realized that they’d both texted her that they were going to be waiting for her at her house when she got home because they needed to talk. She had not imagined pulling up to her little rented bungalow to see three men standing in her front yard.

There was Brad, mediating the whole scene, standing between the two men she’d been ignoring for the entirety of the day.

Then there was Jimmy with a red face and posture that told her he was feeling quite insecure about something. Of which she was sure she had a good idea.

And there was Harry. Pacing. With his hands in his hair and his mouth moving as he said something that had him excited.

The three men suddenly stopped as she pulled in front of the house. All three sets of eyes on her. She had been avoiding simply responding to them. Assuming she’d have time to get her thoughts together. But now she had no choice. She was being forced to confront them.

Harry began to walk toward her car first. But then Jimmy followed too. Both men spoke to one another animatedly as she opened the door.

“Nahh… back off man,” Harry spoke to Jimmy but kept his eyes toward Y/n.

“No. I’m not going to back off…” Jimmy quickened his pace when he noticed she’d gotten out of her car.

“Y/n…” Brad spoke over the two bickering adults, “You probably have some explaining to do to these two. Do you mind taking over here?”

“I… yeah. Of course. I’m so sorry, Brad.” She looked between the three men as Brad waved and walked back into the house.

Jimmy’s face was bright red, “Y/n, tell him we’ve been dating. He seems to think you are his girlfriend.”

Looking at Harry she opened her mouth to respond but stopped at the insinuation that Harry implied she was his girlfriend.

Girlfriend?

Stepping into her yard Harry stood in front of her and then Jimmy next to him both men looking at her in question.

“Uh… I’m… I don’t know what to say. I’ve been dating Jimmy,” she gestured at the man and looked at Harry, “but we’re not exclusive, and then… Well, I saw Harry last night,” she stuttered her words. Her heart was pounding. She was not looking like a good person in this situation. But it was too late now.

“I don’t care that you were dating someone. What happened between us last night… that meant something to you. Didn’t it?” Harry spoke as he gently brushed his fingers against hers, a little spark of life, a signal that he was there and she was safe with him.

She was a bit stunned by all this. Hadn’t expected Harry to say that. Hadn’t expected to see both men in her yard, apparently arguing over her.

“But we’ve been dating for almost 2 months. I think she and I have something special. And I know we haven’t specifically said we were exclusive but–“

“Well, I’ve known her for nearly… what 5, 6 months now?” Harry looked at her as he spoke.

Y/n stood still looking from Harry to Jimmy who continued, “So what is it? Are you with me or are you with him? I didn’t know you were dating someone else.” He was flustered. In comparison to Harry, he was not calm nor gentle.

“I… I’m sorry,” She shook her head and felt her face grow hot and her head dizzy. She was embarrassed.

There wasn’t anything else to say. Except that she was sorry. She really had liked Jimmy. But with the way she folded so fast with Harry, she knew she didn’t like Jimmy as much as she assumed. Because all Harry had to do was say a few nice things to her to get her back to his place and in his bed. She was a weak bitch. What could she say except sorry?

“Look. I’m sorry. Both of you. I have some explaining to do and I was going to… but why are you both here?”

“I came here to talk about this morning with you, Y/n. You left without goodbye and didn’t respond to my texts,” Harry spoke first.

“And you didn’t text me back last night when I thought we were making plans. I was worried about you.”

Blinking her eyes she realized without a doubt, that she was the heavy here. The rotten one. This was all her fuckup. Both men came to find her because she’d blown them both off. Ran away from her problems.

But she fully intended on being truthful. She just needed a minute.

“Fuck.” She cursed and ran a hand through her hair. “I was going to talk to you both. I just… I don’t know. I felt bad that I flaked out on you, Jimmy. I was never going to meet up with you last night after work and I should have told you that off the bat. And I was going to tell you but then I saw Harry and… I just felt guilty so I figured I’d apologize later.”

“That’s… kind of fucked up, Y/n,” Jimmy said as he put his hands on his hips.

She nodded and looked at him. He was upset, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“And so you didn’t want to come see me last night because of him?” He gestured toward the man standing to his left.

Shaking her head she looked from Jimmy to Harry, “No. Before I even realized Harry was at the restaurant for dinner I planned on just going back home after my shift. I just never got around to telling you that. I didn’t want to see you last night.”

“But you went back to Harry’s house?” Jimmy asked.

She sighed, nodding, “Yes. I didn’t plan on it. It just happened.”

The silence was all-consuming. Y/n didn’t want to look at Jimmy’s disappointed face any longer so she glanced at Harry whose energy was opposite of Jimmy's. He was all soft eyes with a gentle expression. Comforting. She smiled at him. He felt safe.

“Okay. Fair enough,” Jimmy spoke suddenly, “So that’s it? Should I expect to hear from you again or…” he shrugged and looked at her hoping to hear something that gave him anything to hang on to.

Should he expect to hear from her? She liked him. She really did. But she could see it now that she didn’t like him enough. Even if perhaps she and Harry didn’t wind up together, the way she fell into Harry’s bed so easily and the way she lit up at Harry’s smile in that moment. The way he made her feel… it was over with Jimmy. She’d never feel that way with him.

“I think that’s it. Yeah. I’m sorry, Jimmy. I’m not sure what I was thinking but… I think this has run its course. I’m sorry,” she shook her head at the whole situation. She felt awful. Jimmy had been nothing but kind. But she just wasn’t feeling it she guessed. Not when she was feeling so much more with Harry.

She watched Jimmy walk away to his car and felt Harry’s hands pull at hers, “It meant something. Didn’t it?”

Looking up at the tall man in confusion she responded, “What?”

“Last night. I know you left without saying anything but now I get it. You were feeling guilty about that bloke. Right?”

Swallowing thickly she nodded, “Yeah… I just… I don’t know why I went back with you but it felt natural and this morning I was overwhelmed with guilt and didn’t really know what you wanted. You know?” She raised her brows and continued, “You’re… you. You’re Harry Styles. I’m just… me. Felt like I was playing some silly game with myself that was just gonna get me hurt.”

Harry’s hands cupped her face softly, “No games. I like you a lot. Couldn’t stay away from you. Last night felt like the beginning of something really special and I hoped you felt it too.”

She stayed silent as she looked into his eyes. His warm hands on her skin felt soft and tender. His thumbs grazed her cheekbones and she felt it. She did. She knew exactly what he meant. To hear him say it, though…

“I need to know what that means for you. Because, yeah. I felt it. I just don’t want to get hurt, Harry. You’re gonna go back on tour and you’ll see your ex and some other woman and I’m gonna get left behind again–“

“My ex? I didn’t see my ex. Nor do I have plans for that,” he laughed softly as he spoke.

“Well, I mean… I did see her post about crossing paths with someone and that cross necklace,” she shook her head and felt silly for even bringing it up as she looked at the expression on Harry’s face.

“She called me and I answered. She thought that meant something but really it was just me being nice. I don’t miss her at all. Have no intention of seeing her again on any level.”

She nodded at his words, “And the pretty woman that was with you on tour. Lots of rumors there too. Which is fine! You’re totally allowed to see other–“

Harry pulled her in close, stopping her mid-sentence, “She’s a friend. Someone I trust who I can vent to and confide in. She gave me lots of advice about you, angel. Told me to go after you. Told me she hadn’t seen me so excited about anyone ever before. I couldn’t stop talking about you.”

“So, you never slept with her?”

Harry shook his head and fit his fingers between hers, blinking softly, “Never. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Now she felt really bad. He’d been missing her and thinking of her all the while she was off with Jimmy trying to erase Harry from her mind, “I had no idea. I’m sorry that I didn’t… I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I admit, I didn’t try hard enough to stay in touch. That’s on me. But I don’t want that to ever happen again.”

“But now you must really think I’m trash. After all that?”

Harry shook his head, squeezing her hand, “Not at all, angel. I want to be with you. Don’t want you with anyone else, though,” he laughed, “And I’m not gonna think about whatever you had going on with that guy because you were just trying to get to know someone else. You thought it was over with us. But I don’t want it to be over. I want it to be me and you.”

She stood stunned. She just hadn’t expected any of this but it was more than she could have hoped for. She genuinely thought she’d misread all the signs. Yes, last night it felt like intimacy and deep connection but figured that was all coming from her end. She had tricked herself into believing he didn’t feel the same.

“Well? What do you think? Would you want to be my girlfriend? Make it official?”

She swallowed the grit down her throat and blinked her eyes at Harry. It all felt like a dream. Surely it was a dream.

“I do want that. So much, but…” she shook her head just as Harry grinned wide.

“So you’re my girlfriend now?”

Y/n puffed out a laugh and nodded, “I guess so. Yeah.” She couldn’t tamper her smile.

Harry released one of her hands and gently held the back of her neck as he leaned down to kiss her. And just like every other time her lips connected with his, she felt flushed and buzzy. Her skin prickled with excitement. Her sinuses burned as she held back stupid tears.

But she needed to say something else. And if this fiasco had taught her anything it was that she needed to be better at communicating.

Parting from the kiss, Harry kept her in his arms as she tilted her head to look up at him, “But what happens when you leave again, Harry? To another city? Another country? What does that mean for us?”

He brought his lips to her forehead before looking down at her again, his crystalline green eyes taking her in. He inhaled a deep breath, a serious expression on his face suddenly that had Y/n worried about the next words he was going to speak, “Come with me.”

He squeezed her closer if that were possible and she opened and closed her mouth a few times, shocked at his words and at what was happening. It was crazy, wasn’t it? To just leave everything behind and travel with Harry wherever he went? Surely this was just a beautiful dream she’d be waking from at any minute.

Harry shook his head and the edge of his pink lips quirked up on one side, “I won’t take no for an answer.”

A/N: This is the last part of this series! What did you guys think? Would you like to see some more of these two? Thank you so much for reading!

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onlyangellucifer · 7 months

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Tag list:

@vamprry, @indierockgirrl

The Poisonous Fangs | Part 1

Summary: A vampire cradles their dying human friend in their arms. They have a limited time to convince them to let them turn them into a vampire Pairing: Vamp!Harry x Y/N (reader)

Warnings: Vampire stuff (blood, drinking blood, etc.), violence (not till part 4 or 5), smut (will be indicated with a *)

Authors note: Hello all! Sorry for the delay! Here's part 1 of this 10 part series. I've been creating some custom photos, let me know if you like them please and thank you!! I hope you enjoy reading. Again, rusty on the writing! Please be kind, but constructive criticism is welcome and feedback as well!

Word Count: 2300

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[Y/N] hates parties and has never been a partier. However, she loves her boyfriend of 4 years Drew, so she allowed him to drag her to the club. It was October and thus all the bars and clubs had themed party nights, in hopes of throwing their sales through the roof. Tonight's theme was Dracula, so she stood in her cropped white shirt matched with her cherry-printed shirt and a cream-colored cardigan to cover her arms, but a few small tattoos were peeking through the material. Harry clocked [Y/N] the moment she stepped in the door, sensing her discomfort and her awkwardness. Her boyfriend had ditched her a few hours ago now, running off with some brunette to the bathrooms and then slipping out when [Y/N] was at the bar. Harry didn’t take his eyes off the pretty girl as he watched her get slightly sloshed, stumbling around the bar looking for her partner. His disgust for a man he’d never met grew as it dawned on her that she had been left alone, he could sense her discomfort as she approached the bar again. He decided this was his chance, if he had one at all, to introduce himself to the pretty girl and hopefully get her home safely because he had this feeling that he just couldn’t shake. He was sure she probably wasn't in danger, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. He felt this magnetic pull towards the other, which was a big deal considering he’d rather be caught dead than hang around with another girl after what happened with the other one. She looked scared and fragile. He had to swoop in before some creep did.

“Can I get another whiskey neat, and whatever this beauty is having?” Harry called out to the bartender. He noticed that [Y/N] stood there for nearly five minutes, not even bothering to call out to the busy bartender, probably hoping he’d come over on his own accord. Harry’s assumption was correct, she was waiting for the bartender to recognize that she was there and that her drink was empty. She noticed around an hour ago that she had been ditched, making a mental note to break up with Drew the next day. This wasn't the first time she had been ditched, nor the first time she witnessed him leave the bar with another woman, she was just non-confrontational and rather soft-spoken, so she often walked all over. She smelled him before she could even hear the British-laced voice call out and instantly grabbed the bartender's attention, who came rushing over with a scared look on his face. The smell of vanilla and lavender invaded her senses, and she could feel his warmth radiating off him. “Uh.. Vodka Redbull with Cherry Grenadine please.” She spoke loud enough to be heard, but not outside her little bubble of, the bartender and the mystery man who seemed to pique her interest right away. Still, she was wrestling in her head on whether she should break it off. Drew was always a safe option to her, her parents loved him, and honestly? He kept the weirdos at bay. She looked over at the mystery man next to her, taking in the way his messy curls were perfectly swept and styled, the tattoos littering his skin and how his jawline was sharp honestly could probably cut something with how intense it looked. Her eyes trailed up and was met with his piercing green eyes and a small smirk plastered on his face. He let her ogle, not wanting to disturb her as she eye fucked him in the bar, hearing her breath hitch at the tattoos and hearing her heartbeat pick up while she took him in. He felt the need to protect her while she felt safe and intimidated but with that look on his face, how could you not? Harry didn’t want to overwhelm her, letting her do her own thing until he watched her as she watched her boyfriend leave the club with someone else. He was upset with him as he realized that this pretty thing was left alone in a dingy club, where people wore their best vampire outfits and preyed on naive people. It disgusted him really, and he was only there because his friend Niall insisted he get back out there and that he couldn’t mourn Mia forever. Harry disagreed, he had nothing but time and could mourn Mia forever. Yet, here he was, Mia long forgotten in his mind as his eyes swept over [Y/N]’s features. “My name’s Harry, what's yours?” He spoke first, wanting the awkward tension to disappear as quickly as possible.

“[Y/N]..” She replied softly.

She wasn’t sure if he could hear her and was surprised when Harry responded, he must’ve had really good hearing because the music was blasting and she was never able to be heard, which is why she stayed silent during these nights. Harry kept the conversation flowing, which [Y/N] was thankful for. She wasn’t great at small talk and often avoided it. He learned a lot about her, they talked for an hour and [Y/N] forgot how Drew left with someone else. Her mind was just focused on Harry and the way his tattooed hand curled around his whiskey neat. She was starting to wonder what it’d look like wrapped around her throat. Though, she’d keep those thoughts to herself. She was still a taken woman. Harry offered to pay and did pay, as she was fumbling through her bag for her wallet and she couldn’t. She offered to pay him back via Venmo or Cashapp but Harry declined, not caring about the money aspect. She had mentioned taking an Uber home, and Harry thought this was his opportunity. “Uh, I can always take you home. I’ve only had a few drinks and it’s worn off now.” Harry wanted her to get home safely because he had this feeling creeping up on him that something was watching them and he wanted to make sure she wasn’t harmed. She did stop drinking around 30 minutes ago, only drinking water because Uber’s always freaked her out and she wanted to be somewhat aware of her surroundings, yet here was this handsome man offering her a ride. She accepted the ride and that’s how she ended up in his blacked-out SUV, light music playing in the background at a tolerable volume. Her strawberry-scented perfume filled the car and was soaked into his seats, he could hear her blood pumping through her veins and every bone in his body wanted to take her back to his place and worship her. He had been so filled with rage still that Drew left her alone. Thankfully, she had given him her number shortly into the conversation. Which was a shock to both of them, because she didn’t seem like the type to do that. However, [Y/N], was just taken by this fascinating human being and how his attention was solely on her. She felt this guy wasn’t a weirdo, giving her address and number over with ease and Harry felt honored that [Y/N] seemed to trust him.

He walked her to her door, kissing her cheek, slightly terrified that it was too much but a blush rose to her lips and he knew deep down it was okay.

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The next morning, [Y/N] woke with a pounding in her head and her memory wasn’t all there, but it was still there. She checked her phone, disappointed that Drew hadn’t even bothered to text or call her, which she half expected. She wanted to end it, but she didn’t want to be a bother. She’d wait until he texted her, her mind was drifting to Harry and she didn’t feel guilty one bit.

After breakfast, a massive bottle of water, and some painkillers, the dull ache in her head had slowed to a halt, and she felt oddly confident. The kiss on her cheek still lingered and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t touch herself last night and wished it was him instead. She was thankful he didn’t come on too strong and genuinely seemed interested in her. If you could gather that from a couple-hour conversation in a dingy nightclub over a few drinks. Over her being ditched which was embarrassing, to say the least. Her phone pinged and she hoped it was Harry, only to be met with Drew asking to meet and talk, she declined and instead texted Harry. She didn’t want to hear any more excuses from Drew, she knew he cheated and that was enough to make up her mind. Sure, there had been rumors but she never believed something without seeing it with her own eyes first. To: Harry

Hey! Thank you again for the drink and for driving me home. I appreciate it, you’re right Ubers are weird. Are you busy later today?”

She wasn’t sure what took over her, never would she be the one to ask someone else out, yet here she is. Asking a random stranger out over text, while deciding how to break up with her boyfriend of four years. From: Harry Hey, I made it home thank you. I hope you dumped that loser, by the way, I hope your hangover isn’t too bad. I’m actually at the shop today, I own a mechanic shop. Did you want to stop by? He was surprised by her boldness but rather excited at the same time. She wanted to see him, on her own accord. To: Harry Getting ready to break up with him now, and then I can swing by if you have an address. She couldn’t help but smile as she texted Drew back, asking him to meet up at their favorite cafe. She didn’t tell Drew that she was going to be breaking it off, because what he had done and had been doing was unacceptable.

Breaking it off with Drew took an hour too long. She listened as he pleaded with her and swore they didn’t do anything, but she knew better. After Drew failed to convince [Y/N], he quickly left the cafe, with tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Which she knew he would use to make her the villain, despite the fact that he was the one who cheated. She checked her phone, a smile spreading on her cheeks when she noticed Harry sent over the address. When she stood, she went to get herself a Matcha for the go, remembering that Harry said he loved Matcha too. She noticed his chocolate brown curls standing in line, raising a brow she approached him and softly called out to him, “Harry?” She didn’t know where the confidence she had this morning went, but she envied him when he turned and looked revived, with a matcha in hand and cherry-stained lips. He looked like he had never even taken a sip of alcohol the day before.

“[Y/N]! Hey, fancy seeing you here. This cafe is just down the road from the shop. Come here often?” Harry took this opportunity to look over her. She was wearing a sage green cardigan, a black crop-top, and adorable cherry-printed jeans.

“Yeah.. I actually just got done uh breaking it off. I come here to study with friends and just relax.” Harry remembered that she was a college senior, already accepted into a master’s program. She was smart and he was enamored by her. He wanted to know all there was to know about this girl whom he only met a mere 13 hours before.

“Oh.. how did that go? The breakup?” He noticed her searching through her bag again for her card, noticing she ordered a matcha as well. He slipped his card into the machine instead, wanting to do something nice for her. “I’ll pay you back for that if you ever send me your Venmo.” She mumbled. Instead, he declined and offered to walk her back to her apartment. The shop wasn’t busy, and he was on lunch, so he could spare a few hours to spend with her. He had that gut feeling that she wasn’t safe again and he noticed the shift in the air when someone who looked familiar walked in, but he couldn’t place him.

It was a short walk, maybe 5 minutes, and the whole 5 minutes Y/N opened up about how the break up went. Before she knew it they were at her door and she was saying inviting him in. They talked for around an hour before Harry got a text from one of the mechanics saying he needed help. Harry didn’t want to leave and [Y/N] didn’t want him to. Reluctantly, he stood and walked to the door. She leaned up and kissed his cheek, wanting to give Harry something for what she deemed his troubles, despite Harry being more than willing to listen to her ramble all day if she gave him the chance. Harry promised to text her when he made it home, as she watched him walk back down the stairs and seemingly disappear from view. That’s when Harry’s phone pinged, his eyebrows stitching together in confusion. He just left Y/N, it couldn’t be her. He didn’t really give his number out to others. Only his close friends, all 3 of them, and his family. His face went stone cold as the hair on the back of his neck stood up, reading the sentence on the screen,

“This will end in blood, Styles. You better watch out for who you fuck around with. Would hate for something to happen.”

Harry looked around, he didn’t notice anything out of place. He didn’t recognize the number, but he got that gut feeling again, one he didn’t want to ignore.

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onlyangellucifer · 7 months

Text

woohoo!! It's been revamped :)

Part 2 coming soon.

The Poisonous Fangs | Part 1

Summary: A vampire cradles their dying human friend in their arms. They have a limited time to convince them to let them turn them into a vampire Pairing: Vamp!Harry x Y/N (reader)

Warnings: Vampire stuff (blood, drinking blood, etc.), violence (not till part 4 or 5), smut (will be indicated with a *)

Word Count: 2300

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“[Y/N]..” She replied softly.

He walked her to her door, kissing her cheek, slightly terrified that it was too much but a blush rose to her lips and he knew deep down it was okay.

══════•°•♡•°•══════

Hey! Thank you again for the drink and for driving me home. I appreciate it, you’re right Ubers are weird. Are you busy later today?”

“This will end in blood, Styles. You better watch out for who you fuck around with. Would hate for something to happen.”

Harry looked around, he didn’t notice anything out of place. He didn’t recognize the number, but he got that gut feeling again, one he didn’t want to ignore.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles filth #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles x reader #vampire!harry #my writing

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