#harry styles demon

[cherryjuiceblues]

𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐄 | 𝟓

➯ Y/N ONLY WANTS ONE THING AND HARRY IS LEARNING TO RELAX ENOUGH TO GIVE IT TO HER. ✰ demon!harry resolved angst. sexual content. minors dni. 𝑤𝑐 16.6k ッ vanilla lime masterlist

Y/N is trying really hard not to cry.

Partly because once she does open the floodgates there is no going back in her admittance of how deeply she needs Harry and partly because if she starts she knows she won’t stop and he hasn’t even been gone a full minute.

ㅤㅤ

When she’d woken up, lax underneath his sweet smelling sheets, she knew—knew that if she didn’t go home that morning that she would never leave. And Harry’s lack of presence beside her was a blessing, otherwise she knows she would’ve been coaxed back to her fantasy land (that she’d tried so hard to distance herself from).

He hadn’t said much when she appeared meekly in front of him; had had a sliver of hope that the blissed out expression she had fallen asleep with might have stayed, but he could tell that she’d made her decision. And he hadn’t tried to change her mind, almost to Y/N’s disappointment—did he not want her as much as she thought he might? Was he fighting their connection and winning?

But Harry’s heart was heavy in his chest. Still is now, as he stands in front of her, back in her own living room.

“Thank you, Harry,” Y/N reluctantly starts, “for… for a lot of things.” She smiles sadly at the ground, willing herself not to tear up. She wonders how she would be feeling if their souls weren’t bound. Relief, perhaps. Or nothing at all.

He watches her. Notices the subtle clench of her eyelids to press the tears back in and the way her palms flatten against her thighs. He should say something but the words don’t form.

“I know this can’t have been the most exciting week of your life, but I definitely won’t forget it any time soon.” What are you saying? She swallows. “Will I see you again?” Y/N lifts her eyes up to meet his devastating green, brows furrowed in the slightest indication of his discontent.

“If you ever need the help of a demon,” Harry straightens his posture, “I’m sure I can find my way back.”

That’s not the circumstance she meant and they both know it. Y/N fails to hide the disappointment on her face but doesn’t voice it.

“Okay,” she whispers, voice intending to be louder but her throat clogs. Harry wants to swoop her up in his arms—but he doesn’t. He steps back.

“Bye, Bambi.” Y/N feels her lungs quiver under the weight of the sad gasp she nearly inhales, tears well on their way to clouding her vision. But she blinks them away quickly; refuses to miss the last sight of him as he looks at her. He’s doing a much better job of hiding his pain but Y/N can feel it, or at least she believes she can—if it makes her feel better about the way she’s ready to sob.

Harry gives her one final small smile, failing to reach his eyes, and then he’s gone. Completely and utterly absent, with the gentle breeze his leave creates whirling his usually soothing scent right into Y/N’s face. Only this time it smells bitter. And her waterline is so close to spilling over but she refuses to blink—instead knuckles at her eyes furiously and lets out some deep breaths. More open-mouthed forcings of air than controlled breathing but it works.

ㅤㅤ

She stands in her living room, head tilted back towards the ceiling, for longer than she’d like to admit until the jarring sound of her phone jolts her out of her maladaptive thinking. Another text from Sarah.

just making sure you’re alive…

haven’t heard from u in a couple days, u ok?

Y/N sighs as guilt rushes over her and temporarily replaces the despair. It’s not like she has intentionally been ignoring her friend but it was hard to reply to a ‘how are u?’ and a ‘u ok?’ text when there were no words to reply with. She already knows she won’t be telling Sarah anything, had known from the first day, and it eats away inside of her but she’s adamant it’s for the best.

hey, sorry i haven’t replied. been busy. i’m okay, how are you? x 

The telling bubbles that indicate Sarah is replying appear as soon as Y/N hits send and she deflates a little.

HELLO!

i’ve missed u

i’m good, slumped at work but you know how that is.

u free to meet up soon?

She’ll admit she does smile a little at her friend’s enthusiasm—nice to know that she’s cared about—and quickly types a response with the promise of being available at the weekend. Sarah seems satisfied with her answer and promises that they’ll have a good catch up. And whilst Y/N is relieved to not have to pretend that everything is okay anymore, as she tosses her phone towards her sofa, she’s once again left with her thoughts. The only thoughts her brain is capable of having; about Harry.

Imogen looks shocked to see Y/N sit down at her desk—the truth lingering between them as they exchange eye contact. She’d tried to stay at home, she really had, but nothing could grab her attention and nothing seemed important enough to warrant doing.

So she worked. For the rest of the week, she gets up and goes to work. But whilst she may be mimicking a normal life, hers is so very far from it. She allows herself to cry. Every night when she goes to bed—the distance from Harry hurts more and more with every sleep and the tears last longer each night. But Y/N likes to think she deserves a cry, as a treat from every day being the hardest day at work she’s ever had. She thinks Harry might come back if she cries hard enough but he never does.

Once it reaches Friday, Y/N finally acknowledges the situation to Imogen, who has been very patient all week. She doesn’t get teary eyed but something else catches her interest.

“I don’t understand,” Y/N says, wheeling over to Imogen on her squeaky office chair, “how you remembered.”

Imogen’s head tilts in confusion. “What do you mean?”

She leans in, quietening her voice. “Harry put a spell—a glamour—on the building. To make everyone forget about the whole incident… But you remembered that you prayed and that would’ve happened the day before. Harry even made you forget that he took me home.”

Imogen gasps. “I knew I recognised him, I do remember that now… in the bathroom.” Gently, she places a hand on Y/N’s knee. “We’re talking about Lucifer here, babe. He’s the most powerful being on the planet… I know I’m not very experienced in the matter but surely he overrides everything. At least, that’s what makes the most sense, considering Harry’s spell malarkey didn’t work on me. And you know, maybe my angel blood was finally doing me some good.”

Y/N sighs. “Yeah… I don’t know why I can’t stop analysing everything—nothing is going to change. I just—” she pauses, inhaling, “I miss him,” shuffling uncomfortably, clearing her throat, eyes darting anywhere but her friend’s face. “I think I’ll always miss him—I mean if our souls are bound,” she laughs humourlessly, “I think I’m fucked.”

“Oh, babe,” Imogen pulls Y/N in for a hug, knees bashing awkwardly as they both lean forward on their respective chairs. “I’ll give Harry a right piece of my mind the next time I see him. Using his fuckery to hypnotise me,” she tuts.

Y/N pulls away with a small smile. “It’s called mind compulsion, I think.”

“Well, my mind is feeling rather compulsed to punch him.”

“I don’t think that’s a word,” she laughs and Imogen smiles, not mentioning the glossy look in Y/N’s eyes.

ㅤㅤ

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?”

Y/N’s heart warms slightly, looking up from her desk as she gets ready to go home.

“That’s okay, Gen,” she smiles softly. Imogen doesn’t look convinced, worry plastered across her features. “I’m so tired I think I’ll pass straight out as soon as my head hits the pillow tonight.” She stands, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Thank you, though. Really.”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N does not, in fact, fall asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. Her head doesn’t even get close enough for that to happen. As soon as she hears the fateful click of her front door shutting, she’s letting her bag fall to the floor and her hands cover her face. The tears hold themselves back but her chest is rising and falling at a rapid pace—so painfully.

Every breath feels like another step taken away from Harry. He’s gone and she’s never going to see him again. She’s going to meet someone, force herself to fall in love and pretend that she is happy, have a beautiful family that fills the void but only for a little while—and still be longing for Harry until the day she dies.

It’s a hollow feeling, one of panic. The realisation that this could be her life now. That she will never be truly happy again because a part of her will always be missing. Y/N slaps her hands against the door behind her in an attempt to steady her fall as she sinks to the ground. Her head makes contact with the wood heavily as she stares up at the ceiling. Her breathing is uncontrollable now, so desperate to fill her lungs that her lungs refuse; they form an impenetrable wall and won’t let anything in. 

Y/N’s palms are sweaty on her knees, huddled to her chest. And then they’re wet on her eyes as her waterline starts to overflow, leaving hot salty trails down her cheeks and sobs that rip out of her chest. She’s never known crying to hurt like this. Even during the torturous week she’s had, when she buried her face into her pillow and cried herself to sleep each night, it hadn’t stung and torn through her like it is right now. Her head is pounding and foggy and she’s awfully congested, tears coating her face and pooling in her palms that are pressing numbingly into her sockets.

She doesn’t know anything. Other than that she needs Harry so much she thinks she might die from crying otherwise. Maybe her tears will start to fill her lungs and she’ll drown, or her ribs will crack from the force at which her shoulders are shaking and puncture her heart. The cause of death will be listed as the most pathetic of heartbreaks and she will be pitied by the masses.

His name is on a loop inside her head and he is all she can see behind her eyelids. She’s thinking of him so hard that she starts to smell him. And then hear his voice. And then feel his hands on her knees, trailing up to grasp at her wrists and pull them gently away from her face.

“Baby,” she hears Harry coo. Y/N gasps, revealing her sad, puffy face to him. She thinks she’s hallucinating but seeing him only makes her cry harder, eyes scrunching up and downturned lips letting out another sob. She’s pulled into Harry’s lap and he feels so real but Y/N can’t process what’s going on as she cries into his collarbone, soaking his shirt. Harry’s large palm is warm on her back, rubbing up and down in soothing motions as he mumbles things Y/N can’t hear into her hair. “I’m here, you’re okay. You’re okay.”

“Harry?” Y/N’s voice is thick; his name barely distinguishable but he knows. Squeezes her tighter against his body, arms wrapped around her back. She’s sat so close in his lap he thinks they might fuse together—he’d be okay with that.

It’s sudden—the way Y/N’s tears stop and her lungs break down their walls to let the much-needed air in. Her heart starts beating at a more steady rate as she inhales Harry—body relaxing into his—and her brain starts to calm down, fog shifting as it realises what’s going on. That nothing is missing anymore.

ㅤㅤ

Now, with a clearer head, Y/N starts to feel a little shy. She knows how rough she must look, water trails staining her skin, hands shaking, and limbs too heavy to hold up. Harry’s comforting hands hold her close to his chest as she breathes against his neck, but Y/N pushes against him to sit back and cover her face, desperate to wipe away some of her despair.

Harry cups her cheeks, nudging her hands out of the way and wiping the salty tracks from her skin. Her eyes flutter shut, furrowed brows relaxing somewhat. It’s a little humiliating when she feels him thumb underneath her nose, no doubt swiping away snot—she never thought she’d have anyone uncaringly clean her up like that and it causes an endeared warmth to blossom throughout her chest.

“You’re okay,” Harry says again, quiet enough that Y/N might think he fears the power of his own voice. His hands are so soft and warm as they hold her, mollifying her already leaden limbs as she melts even further into him, head leaning into his grasp. He drops a longing kiss to her forehead, pouring his every fibre into trying to soak up Y/N’s pain.

She brings her hands up to cover Harry’s, wishing she could breathe in better through her nose to unashamedly bask in his scent. “You heard me?” She asks.

“Every day.”

Y/N pulls back just enough so Harry’s lips leave her forehead, catching his gaze. His composure is commendable, and maybe if she wasn’t just about ready to dive into his eyes then it would be less obvious to her that he was hurting too.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, thinking of every tear she has shed over the last few nights and how loudly they must’ve echoed in Harry’s head.

“No.” He holds her face tighter, angling it up. He’s stern. “Don’t say that. I was trying to keep my distance. I thought— You have nothing to be sorry about, Bambi.” Harry strokes his thumbs across her cheeks, fingers gently buried in her hair. “I’m sorry. I could’ve come sooner—I let you cry,” he closes his eyes, brows kinked.

“Hey,” Y/N frowns. “If I can’t apologise, neither can you,” she shuffles even closer on Harry’s lap (not that she can get any closer but it feels necessary). She brings her own hands up to his face and delicately brushes his eyebrows—trails a finger down the bridge of his nose before using both her index fingers to pull at the corners of his mouth to twist them up into a smile. Harry relents, revealing his dimple in a smile he lets Y/N have. 

They sit there, with their faces in each other’s hands for longer than either of them know, only shifting into a more comfortable position when Harry hugs Y/N to his chest once more and rests his head atop hers. Both of their minds are running wild but neither of them want to be the one who disrupts the silence—bursts the bubble. Talking can wait a little while longer.

Harry takes her thighs and forces them even tighter around him, arms wrapping around her back securely. Even if Y/N wanted to move, their bodies wouldn’t allow it. He hugs her with so much force, Y/N’s breath hitches and Harry releases his grip slightly with a soft apology. She only nestles into his neck further, trapped hands resting happily on his chest. Their hearts beat together, steady and safe, and the places their skin touches liquify in bliss.

When Harry notices the shift in Y/N’s breathing he starts rubbing her back once more, whispering, “Don’t fall asleep on me now.” He can feel the flutter of her lashes against his neck and leans back just enough so she can’t bury in further. “Come on,” he tries again when she groans, “have you eaten?”

“No,” Y/N grumbles, wishing Harry would just let her nap on him. “Let me sleep.”

But Harry is already starting to get to his feet, hands securely under her thighs to keep her wrapped around him as he stands up with zero effort—Y/N nearly forgets his strength and agility surpasses that of an average person. She says nothing more, content with the lack of moving she has to do. He sets her down at her kitchen table—places her right on top of it. Y/N’s legs aren’t her own; they hang on tight when Harry tries to step back and she knows she should let go, that her moment of vulnerability has passed and she should act appropriately, but the possibility that he might disappear is knocking around invasively in her skull.

Harry treats her delicately—doesn’t tease. “I won’t be long.” He tucks her hair behind her ears. “You care what you have?” Y/N shakes her head, eyes failing to conceal her emotions. They’re wide, and overwhelmed, and tired. Harry smiles softly, holding her gaze for a second, his eyes flicking over her face; really there, really real. They get stuck in the moment again, taking one another in, before Harry forces himself to look away. He unlinks Y/N’s legs from around him and leaves her with an uncharacteristic tap to her nose with his forefinger that has her pulling away in faux annoyance, a small smile revealing her true feelings.

ㅤㅤ

They don’t talk whilst she eats. Harry comes back with a small bowl of leftover stir fry and helps her down from the table wordlessly, pulling out her chair and placing the food in front of her. He sits opposite and watches thoughtfully. Y/N doesn’t necessarily jump with joy at the idea of someone watching her eat usually, but none of the discomfort arises, gratefully filling her stomach and returning the eye contact whenever her mouth isn’t wide open mid-bite.

Before Y/N has even swallowed her last mouthful, she’s eager to push away from the table, sure she can hear the sweet siren song of her bed calling out to her. Harry follows her movements near weightlessly, every motion graceful. There was never anything clunky or awkward about him. Y/N pauses as she places her bowl in the sink, turning around hesitantly. “You’ll stay, won’t you?” Harry nearly rolls his eyes at the silly question—and maybe bites back a derisive remark—instead nodding assertively, calming her as much as possible without using his perfumed magic. (He decided a while ago he wouldn’t unless she asked—and even when she had asked, on the night that he’d stayed in her room to make sure she was okay, there was still a lingering guilt churning around inside him at the knowledge of his manipulation.)

“Of course I will,” he verbally confirms, following Y/N once again when she meekly walks past him through the doorway and heads towards her bedroom. Harry assumes she must be feeling a little embarrassed, always so determined to minimise her behaviour before tonight. The obvious display she’s presented has broken down a barrier; new for him but drastic for her. She may as well have removed her heart from her chest and spread it out for him, or delivered it into his palms with a note that read:

this is yours now.

Harry would be sure to take care of it, but he’s unconvinced Y/N knows that.

ㅤㅤ

She busies herself in the bathroom, mind running as she tries to plan some semblance of what she wishes to say in her head. When she pushes the door open however, and sees Harry sitting on the edge of her bed, her mouth starts running before her brain does.

“I don’t want you to go—” her skin warms and her eyes scrunch when she realises she’s blurted out the words that should’ve been hinted at much more gracefully. But she continues. “I mean— after tonight—” she rushes, “not because of the soul thing…or maybe it is but I don’t care.” Harry listens with a soft and watchful gaze. “It doesn’t bother me… and I want you to stay in my life and I know our souls being connected makes it complicated but I’m not just saying this. And it’s not just because of my unhinged crying, although it did suck…” Y/N lowers her voice, almost scared to admit it, “I think I would’ve cried anyway, tethered or not.”

Harry is processing her words for no longer than three seconds before Y/N starts up again, his miniscule silence as he carefully chooses his reply stirring a panic up inside her. “I know you probably don’t feel the same… or you don’t want to.” Harry sits up, mouth opening to correct her but she keeps talking. “I’m sorry you got stuck with me…”

“Y/N—”

“—But I thought you might be okay with becoming friends?”

“Y/N—”

“—Or if not I could just push someone else down the stairs and—”

“Y/N!” Harry finally cuts through her. His voice is powerful, commanding, but still so delicate it barely disturbs the particles around them. She looks at him properly, pulling herself out of her head, with wide eyes. “You’re working yourself into a tizzy, hm? Come here, silly girl.” He opens his arms and widens his legs so Y/N can step between them. Warm palms rest against her hips.

“I feel the same way. And I want to.”

His words light up inside of Y/N; they trail into her ears and slick down her neck. Seep into her skin and vibrate through her bones.

“Does that make you happy?” He strokes his thumbs against her hip bones, honey-dripping tone placing a coy smile onto Y/N’s face as she bites her lip in an attempt to hide it. 

She nods. “Yes.”

And she nearly stays happy too. Nearly lets her shoulders relax and her protective layer fall away. Until Harry continues speaking.

“But—”

“No,” Y/N’s smile drops. “No, there’s no but. Harry, please.” She tries to step back but Harry slides his hands around her body. 

“When we were at the cottage,” he starts, “I was ready to keep you forever. I would’ve done it in a heartbeat.” His eyes round out as they look up at her. “But how could that have been fair? I’m no good, Y/N, really—”

“—Don’t say that.” She grabs his shoulders.

“Please, Y/N. I’m old, and I do bad things, and whenever I am with you I am terrified you might suddenly realise what I am. You deserve a nice, human boy much better than me, who doesn’t put you in danger and can give you a normal life. I’d never forgive myself if I took that away from you.”

A million things rush through Y/N’s head. Sadness and sympathy for the way Harry talks of himself, and then frustration and denial that he could truly believe that. “Harry,” she starts, frowning face mirroring his own, “You are better.”

His expression stays the same, large eyes hesitant and unconvinced, not quite understanding what she is saying.

“You have been kinder to me than any human girl or boy—well, except for my friends but I don’t mean like that,” she pauses. “To say you are not good enough isn’t fair, especially when I’ll be comparing everyone I ever meet to you. And you will always come out on top.” Harry’s face softens and his hands pull Y/N in closer. “I know what you are, Harry. It doesn’t scare me,” she whispers, cupping his face tenderly. “I like liking you. It feels good.” She lets her eyes close, forehead tipping down to rest against his and he angles his head up. She listens to the way he breathes, slow and deep, and his silence unnerves her once more. “Say something,” she exhales.

“It’s too dangerous, I— Lucifer mentioned a demon named Zennith, that apparently I used to know but I don’t remember. He sent the demon after you and I don’t know what he wants or where he is. I could find him but I was half-hoping that if I ignored it, he would give up. I don’t even know if Lucifer was telling the truth. But nothing threatening has happened to you since Niall took care of the demon and I like things that way.”

Y/N doesn’t care. “I don’t care,” she tells him so, “you protect me.” And he does, better than anyone else could possibly attempt to.

Harry’s holding himself back; they both know it. Both know that he’s letting his worries get the better of him when nothing like this has affected him before. He’s usually so confident in his abilities to keep her safe, so what’s changed? He considers the possibility of a more permanent method of concealing her scent—one that might involve teeth, or words, or something so intimately internal that Harry has to redirect his thoughts before they get too muddy.

“Let me sit on it, yeah Bambi?” He eventually utters. It’s not a no, Y/N thinks. “I would rather never see you again in my long, immortal life than know that your pain was caused by me.” This has her eyes welling up as she clumsily lowers down onto his lap, arms thrown tight around his middle.

“Don’t say that,” Y/N speaks into his neck. “Don’t even think about it.” Her words are wet against his skin.

Harry sighs, his own face buried into the side of her head. “Always making you cry, sweet girl,” but Y/N shakes her head fervently until he smooths her hair down and holds her just as tight. “Been crying since the day we met.”

“No. M’tummy hurts, s’all.” Y/N is unconvincing but Harry smiles against her hair, mumbling a soft okay as they sit in each other’s arms once again.

ㅤ

Y/N is unsure at what point she was moved into her bed instead of on Harry’s lap on top of it, but when she wakes up in the morning and the first thing she sees is his sleeping face, logistics don’t seem important. Nothing seems important, apart from him being in front of her.

His face is serene, not a furrow or worry in sight, and his breathing is peaceful and deep. She wants to touch every inch of him—commit him to memory—but she doesn't want him to wake up. This could be it—the day he decides to never see her again, and the mere thought has Y/N closing her eyes in an attempt to will it away. Her body doesn’t function properly without him anymore. How would she possibly survive on her own?

“Y’thinking too loud,” the grumble jolts Y/N out of her depressing reverie, eyes opening to see Harry sleepily blinking at her. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles back, eyes flitting around the slivers of shirtless skin she can see. Harry reaches for her under the covers, fingers trailing up her arm. Her eyes meet his and he has a soft smile on his face, mussed hair curling around his temples. When his palm smooths up her neck and into her hair, there’s nothing more she wishes to do than sink into his touch. But she feels the need to protect herself and Harry notices the way she holds her breath.

“Don’t,” he whispers. “Don’t pull away from me.” He pushes himself up and drops down closer to her.

“But you get to?” Y/N says, slightly affronted.

Harry sighs, “No, baby—” he rubs hand down his face before running it through his hair. “I’m here right now. I won’t disappear, I promise you.”

Right now. Y/N repeats it in her head. Not forever—right now. Is that enough?

“But if anything becomes dangerous you’ll leave?”

“If anything becomes dangerous I will protect you entirely. And then I will make sure you stay safe. And if that means keeping away from you then that’s what I’ll do.” He traces the shell of her ear with his finger. “Don’t be so sad, little thing.”

“Why aren’t you sad?” Y/N huffs.

“How can I be, when I am with you?”

He has to go and be so irresistibly mawkish. Y/N can’t help the way her heart swells and her pupils expand. To be so unashamedly wanted is all she has ever wished for. She reaches her own hand up, landing on his that has weaved into her hair and bringing it down to hold her face. Her lips pucker against the spongy part of his palm, and then the pad of his thumb, and each of his fingers. Harry watches her with a small smile, eyes velvety.

He can’t stop himself from surging forward to press their mouths together, liquid insides begging him to do something. Y/N sighs into Harry’s mouth, easily following his movements. It feels as though they’ve been doing this forever—waking up next to one another. He keeps a firm grasp on her hand, manoeuvring their fingers so they interlock and pushing forward so Y/N lays on her back. Harry settles between her legs, lips never straying as their mouths open wider and wider with each kiss. With his free hand, Harry dances it down Y/N’s front, the other that’s firmly squeezing hers, still holding him up. Her nipples peak underneath her shirt and Harry elicits a gasp from Y/N as he thumbs over one, not stopping for long enough to tease as he gets further and further down her body.

Y/N opens her mouth for Harry eagerly, accepting his tongue with a grateful whine. Their noses bump and their breathing is laboured but it’s flawless. And when she feels Harry trail along the waistband of her shorts she pushes her hips up into him, only to have him send her back down and smooth his big hand underneath her shirt and press into her tummy. It’s a nice force, a warm and fuzzy feeling. One that has her sinking deeper into the space Harry gets her to when they do these things.

“What am I g’na do with you?” Their lips part and his eyes are seductive, stripping her bare. 

Y/N inhales shakily before whispering, “Whatever you want.” She tries to push into his hand but his strength is vast and he drags his nails up to her sternum before returning to her stomach and reapplying pressure.

Harry hums, slanting his lips against hers again, nibbling and sucking on her bottom lip until he can almost feel her skin tingling with impatience. “You want me to make all the decisions, hm?” He mumbles against her mouth. When she whines in affirmation, he says, “You like having no power, don’t you? Like just lying there and taking what I give you?” Harry’s words stoke the fire in her belly, thighs twitching. Y/N’s skin grows hot as she nods, embarrassed. “You gone all quiet on me, baby?”

“I like it,” she breathes, eyes closed.

“Like what? Look at me,” Harry squeezes her hand. “Like what?”

Y/N blinks up at him, takes in the flush of his cheeks and the glint in his eyes. She wants to kiss him until all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. “I like…when you decide. Want you to do whatever you want to me…please?”

“Love how politely you beg,” Harry kisses her again, sighing into her mouth. His tongue strokes hers and makes her squirm underneath him, tentatively hooking her legs around his hips. Harry moves his hand from her tummy around to the back of her thigh, and then her ass, pushing her into him as far as she can go.

Hard meets soft and their mouths open against one another. Harry pulls away, sponging kisses down Y/N’s neck. He trails further, licking her nipples through her shirt and taking a moment to admire the wet patches. Then he pushes the fabric up just enough to kiss at her stomach, nibbling until he hears giggles mixed in with Y/N’s moans. Harry smiles against her skin, peeking up at her from underneath his lashes. She looks so beautiful, all bated breaths and glowing skin.

“Tickles,” she exhales.

Harry can’t help himself. “Oh? When I do this?” he asks, before biting into her flesh again, dotting kisses for each tooth mark he leaves. And then he blows a wet raspberry underneath her belly button, eliciting the most adorable string of shrieks and giggles he’s sure he’s ever heard. Harry shakes his head back and forth, face snug to her skin, and his hair sweeps against her. Soft as Y/N’s hand falls into it, trying to tug him away.

He unlinks their hands and brings both of his palms to her hips, holding her to him. And as he subtly slips down, his mouth starts leaving kisses again and Y/N’s laughs get caught in her throat. Harry looks up at her with a smirk, mouth hovering above her mound. Her eyes are wide and her chest is heaving. But he’s barely even begun to tease yet. 

Slowly, Harry kisses over Y/N’s shorts, down, down, until his nose is level with her clit. And Y/N’s breath turns into a whine, and then a squeal when Harry nudges it, shaking his head from side to side again. Her hips buck into his face and he lets her, holds her closer to him as he inhales and breathes hot air onto her.

“Should I take these off or should I ruin you through your shorts, hm?” Harry gives a particularly pointed prod with his nose and Y/N gasps. “Think I could soak you through two layers?” Y/N doesn’t know anything, can only feel the immense throbbing between her legs. But Harry does all the thinking for her. “I think I could. But I won’t today,” as he tugs on the waistband of her shorts and pulls them down her legs, presenting her already wet underwear, “wanna taste you proper.”

The promise has Y/N’s stomach contracting and her hands fisting the sheets as Harry drags the flat of his tongue over her, causing her panties to stick to her as he plays and increasing the thrumming in Y/N’s body. Harry groans into her, the vibrations pulling a whimper from Y/N’s open mouth.

“You’re so responsive, Bambi,” Harry smiles against her. “I barely have to do a thing and you’re squirming underneath me.”

“Only you,” she whines, eyes finding his as he soaks his saliva over her clit, drenching her underwear further.

Harry hums, “That’s right. Just f’me, no one else.” She nods desperately. “You’re a good girl.” Y/N shivers, body begging him. “Should I make my good girl come, do you think?”

“Yes, please,” her bottom lip juts out, wet and puffy. “Need you.”

“M’needy girl needs me,” Harry pouts right back, and Y/N nearly begs again but her breath gets caught in her throat as Harry plucks her underwear to the side and licks through her folds, bottom to top. Her hips shudder and Harry forces her thighs around his head, doesn’t let an inch of space get between them. He laps at her like he may die without it, hums and groans into her, buries his nose so tightly against her clit and massages his tongue inside of her. Y/N swear she loses consciousness, head thrown back and eyes rolling—every sense overwhelmed. No one had ever made her feel like this before.

And the coil in her belly is already tightening, and Y/N knows she could let go so easily, she’s already so nearly there. But then a harsh blaring coming from her bedside table has her jumping from her skin. Harry doesn’t flinch, carries on practically devouring her. “What is that?” he speaks into her, arm thrown over her waist holding her down.

Y/N can’t talk, just blindly slaps for her phone to turn her alarm off. “I’m—” she tries, “seeing—Sarah—” her words come out broken and Harry hums against her, speeding up his movements. Y/N cries out, hands landing in his hair.

“Better come then,” Harry mumbles, sucking her clit into his mouth hard and then laving his tongue over her in tight circles. “Be a good girl and come for me, Bambi.” She whimpers as his tongue speeds up and one of his hands trails up her chest, pushing her shirt out of the way to reveal her breasts. He flicks at her nipple, pinches and squeezes and feels her pulsate against his chin.

She’s garbling his name, body wound up tight and he’s whispering into her, “I know, I know, just come for me.” Her orgasm is right there, she’s so close, and all it takes is for Harry to take his other hand and sink a single finger into her drippy hole and she’s clenching down around him, crying out as she comes. Her eyes squeeze shut and tears slide down her temples as Harry licks her through it, humming. He can’t take his eyes off of her, splayed out so pretty for him, contracting around his finger and pulling on his hair.

“Good girl,” he whispers against her, parting from her for a moment to give her a little respite, resting his cheek against the inside of her thigh. Y/N blinks, looking down at him with a spacey expression and a wet face. She opens her mouth to speak but the noise gets lodged in her throat.

“That was—really nice,” a tear rolls down her cheek.

Harry smiles and presses a longing kiss to the crease of her thigh, “Yeah? Those good tears?” Y/N nods fervently. He kisses her again, and again, slowly moving back to her centre where he sponges his lips over her clit.

Y/N jumps and gasps. “Too sensitive!” But Harry strokes her hip bones gently and slicks his tongue through her folds, avoiding her pearl.

“I know, just le’ me clean you up.”

“Harry… I need to get dressed,” Y/N sighs, without attempting to move. Her head just sinks further into the pillow as her rapid heartbeat starts to calm down whilst Harry sweetly tends to her. She runs her hands through his hair and then lets it brush against her tummy, sighing as she watches the way his eyes flutter.

Just as her body hints at the idea of building back up, Harry reluctantly pulls away with glistening lips. He peels her legs from around his shoulders and climbs up to lean over her, stroking her hair from her face. Y/N nearly melts under his gaze but then she forces a frown onto her face.

Harry pinches her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Oi. What’re you grumpy about now?”

“If you’re not here when I get back, I am going to murder you, Harry.”

He laughs, dropping a wet kiss to her cheek. “That’s okay, sweetheart.”

Harry teleports to Niall’s house and quickly ushers him to follow, settling when they’re both in Y/N’s living room.

“Could’ve been preoccupied, you know?” Niall glowers. 

“Well, you weren’t.”

“I could’ve been—”

“—Did you find anything?”

Niall stares at Harry for a moment, opening his mouth and then shutting it again. For once, Harry doesn’t roll his eyes or tell him to just spit it out, instead taking a seat on Y/N’s armchair and gesturing to the sofa for Niall.

“Nothing helpful, I’m afraid, Harry. Just more of what you already know—that the unbinding incantation is lethal to humans. I’m sorry.”

Harry feels rather unaffected and Niall notices but says nothing. He’s not sure he wants to untether their souls now even if they could. He’s in too deep.

“But,” Niall continues, “I did read that as long as you don’t kiss her, your feelings should remain more manageable. Something about giving in to your souls.”

Harry looks at Niall. Niall blinks. “Harry,” he deadpans. “You haven’t.”

“Have you ever tried not wanting to kiss your fucking soulmate, Niall?”

His friend lets out a breath, leaning further back into the sofa. “Well, you’re fucked then, mate.”

Harry doesn’t necessarily agree. He might have a week ago but his priorities have changed in that short span of time. 

“Thanks for looking,” Harry finally says.

Niall looks solemn. “What are you going to do now?”

Harry smiles, “Y/N threatened murder if she came back and I wasn’t here, so…”

“Man, you are down bad.”

“Perhaps,” he shrugs.

ㅤㅤ

Meanwhile, Y/N is being grilled by Sarah for seeming different lately.

“I can’t tell if you’re on cloud nine or on tenterhooks expecting to hear bad news.”

“Maybe I’m both. Happier than I’ve ever been but waiting for it to go up in flames.”

Harry wakes up before Y/N the next morning.

(She had arrived home the day previous with bated breaths, assuring Harry and his smug face that she was serious about the murder if he hadn't been there. But he just looked at her with his teasing green eyes and coaxed her into his lap where he mocked until she squirmed.)

He wakes up with a renewed vigour, feeling his irises practically disappear as he takes in Y/N’s sleeping form. Hair a mess, face soft and unburdened of anxiety, and limbs relaxed right on top of Harry. He feels a sense of self-accomplishment that in her unconsciousness she gravitated towards him, and the longer he looks at her beautiful face, the more sure he is that he’s going to promise her longer than just right now.

In fact, however hard it is to sneak out from underneath her, he decides he’ll surprise her with breakfast too and his heart swells at the picture of her waking up in his head. She’d probably half-heartedly grumble at him for waking her up and then pretend not to be grateful for the food he presents.

Harry is busy for a little while, taking things slower than he usually would to try and stay as silent as possible. He’s just taking soft-boiled eggs off the hob when he hears it—Y/N’s cry. Everything is turned off and Harry is hurrying into her bedroom immediately, seeing her start to thrash about under the covers.

“Hey, hey,” he tries, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing a soft hand on her shoulder. “Wake up, Y/N.” A tear rolls down her nose and Harry is quick to brush it away, gently manoeuvring her so she’s laying on her back and not her side. “It’s okay, baby, wake up,” he strokes her face, tucking her hair behind her ears and smoothing out the furrow in her brows. Nothing works. Not even as he starts to shake her shoulders—Y/N only cries harder and flails more. “Come on, Bambi,” Harry starts to panic; he tries to keep it quelled but the churning in his gut is getting stronger and stronger.

It’s when Harry jostles her particularly powerfully that her eyes shoot open and his heart nearly drops out of his body when he is greeted with complete darkness. His eyes looking back at him—gone are her beautiful irises, replaced by black, soulless, foreboding ovals.

He’s seen this before, knows what’s happening, but never has he dealt with it affecting someone he cares about more than life itself. Any part of trying to help her could actually harm her.

Harry doesn’t have to guess very hard as to who it is that’s controlling her dream, and he berates himself for trying to pretend that someone didn’t exist instead of killing him days ago. How could he let this happen to her? If Harry weren’t here right now, she could be stuck in this state for however long Zennith decided. Hours, days, or even weeks.

Usually Harry would be preparing to perform a ritual to wake up whoever was inflicted, but he doesn’t have anything and his hands are shaking like leaves. He needs to pull himself together. Y/N’s eyes are still open and it’s upsetting Harry to a fault; he’ll never be useful if he falls apart. 

Gently, he brushes her eyelids closed, unnerved at how inhuman she looks. An idea plants its roots in Harry’s head as he swipes away more of Y/N’s tears, delicately holding her arms down so she doesn’t writhe. He’d never attempted it in this context before, but maybe…

ㅤㅤ

Y/N will never sleep again. She’s sure of it. The image before her is undoubtedly one that will stick with her for the rest of her measly life.

She doesn’t even remember waking up—although she’s pretty sure she isn’t fully awake because the room she is in isn't a room. It’s a lack of space, a vast darkness, with her sat in the middle and an unsettling looking man standing two feet away. She can’t move, she can’t speak, she can only blink, and feel hot streams running down her face.

“Hello, Y/N. It seems I finally entered the right person’s dreams.” His voice is slimy. Was this the demon Harry had mentioned? What was his name? “You are very pretty,” the man says, and a shiver runs down Y/N’s spine. “What’s a little human like you doing with a demon like Harry?”

Having more fun than I am with you, she thinks.

“He’s a bad man, Y/N. I’m sure he’s mentioned me, filled your head with lies.”

He doesn’t even remember you.

“He might be nice to you now, but one day he will only succumb to his true nature and kill you. He tried to kill me once.”

You probably deserved it, Y/N thinks, but the demon’s face contorts and then she realises she said it out loud. She goes to speak again but she can’t; he’s controlling her.

“Ah, yes, I see he has already tainted you.” He steps closer. Y/N desperately wishes to move backwards but none of her body responds. “That’s okay. A shame but nothing I can’t change. What is necessary will be done.”

Y/N doesn’t understand what he’s talking about, sure he must be mentally unhinged, but it doesn’t unsettle her any less as he gets closer and closer. The uncontrollable tears feel nearly scalding on her skin and she won’t blink in fear of her own safety.

“When you wake, I want you to come and find me.” His eyes darken like Harry’s, but Y/N can’t help but think that they suit Harry far better and are much less disturbing on him. “I think you’ll be much happier with me, as my little pet.” He reaches his hand out towards her face and Y/N wills every part of her being to flinch away, despite no movement happening. She feels no touch however, and notices his fingers trace the air around her cheek. He can’t, perhaps.

There’s no doubt in Y/N’s mind that whatever words the demon is speaking are supposed to have some hypnotic effect on her—but nothing in her mind changes. Nothing comes over her in a strung-out realisation, her eyes don’t round out in newfound adoration and her heart doesn’t start to speed up.

Well, it does, but not out of endearment. She can only hope her connection with Harry’s soul is what's keeping her unscathed.

The demon keeps speaking and Y/N still can’t remember his name, but her neck suddenly starts to sting and she flinches. She actually, physically moves. He looks at her, puzzled, before letting out a quiet curse.

“You come and find me,” is that last thing she hears, each word more muffled than the last as her eyes droop closed and the pain in her neck is the last thing she feels.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N wakes up with a cry, body surging forward and immediately crashing into a hard chest. Harry. It takes her a second to realise that the pain from her dream is real, and that Harry is the cause of it, as she feels his teeth pull away from her neck and watches as he leans back to see her face. She swears his eyes are glassy.

“I’m sorry, are you okay? I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t know what else to do,” Harry exhales, words jumbled. She’s never seen him lack composure—it’s disconcerting. He cups her face and wipes her tears away, pulling her up and into his chest with his arms wrapped securely around her.

“Harry?” Y/N croaks, “My neck,” she lifts a heavy hand up to touch but Harry takes it delicately.

“I know, sweetheart, m’sorry,” he lays her back down against the pillows and lightly laps at her neck, cleaning up the blood and laving over the bite. His saliva feels healing, as the pain trails away and all she can feel are Harry’s soft lips leaving tender kisses over the mark. Her eyes well up—feeling vastly overwhelmed as her dream plays back in her head. Visuals of the darkness, and the maniacal demon with the wish to own her.

“Am I definitely awake?” Y/N’s lip quivers, vision blurry with tears.

Harry’s heart sinks in his chest, taking in her crestfallen and frightened expression. “You’re awake. I promise, my sweet girl.” He places a longing kiss to her forehead, thumbs determined in the cleaning of her tears. “I promise.” He kisses her nose, and then her cheek, and Y/N is turning to catch his lips—uncaring as the blood from his mouth and the salt from hers mingle together in an seismic kiss.

Y/N grips his hands desperately, tightly—as if they ground her—and Harry’s mouth presses harder to hers in return. Harder yet still tender, treating her with such fragility that only he can deliver. Her whole body feels weak and her eyelids are so heavy.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry whispers against her lips as they part. “This is my fault. I should’ve taken care of Zennith a long time ago.” He plants a little peck.

“Are you—going to—leave me—now?” Y/N blubs, fat drops sliding onto the pillow.

“Never,” Harry swears. “Never, Y/N, I promise.” His hands frame her entire face, as she blinks sadly up at him. Tears cloud her vision. “Was g’na tell you this morning. Was making y’brekkie ‘n’ everything.” She sniffles loudly. “I don’t want to ever be away from you again, my little Bambi.” Y/N’s face screws up as more tears fall, but these ones are less forlorn, as she tugs Harry down on top of her. He tucks his face into her neck, kissing over his bite mark once again.

When her sniffles have lessened, Harry pushes his arms underneath Y/N’s body and rolls them over so she’s resting on top of him. She sinks into him easily, limbs too heavy to hold up, and Harry’s insides roil at how weak she seems.

“Why did you bite me?” Y/N mumbles into his chest. “Like some sort of dog.”

Harry exhales a laugh and rubs a soothing palm along her back. “It’s a temporary scenting bite—they have protective qualities… among other things… I didn’t know if it would work.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment. And then, “What else will it do to me?”

“You’ll probably be a little needier for a couple days. I might be too. Would be stiff right now if the circumstances were any different.”

“Oh,” she breathes, “do you want…” her hand tries to move downwards but Harry’s gathering it up immediately.

“No, baby. I was far too worried about you to be thinking with my dick. And you need rest.”

“I’mfine,” Y/N says but the words slur together and Harry has been watching her very, definitely closed eyes for the past two minutes.

“I won’t move an inch,” he promises. “Dream of me this time, Bambi.”

ㅤㅤ

Sure enough, it’s as if Harry hadn’t even been breathing when Y/N reawakens after her second, much more pleasant sleep. But she stirs to the comforting feeling of his warm chest rising and falling and nuzzles her face further into his body, tucking underneath his chin like a little puppy.

He carries her (despite Y/N’s adamance that she can walk just fine), and feeds her, and even offers to dress her but Y/N insists she has full control over her body. Harry is serious though, in his worry for her—doesn’t find any part of it humorous and she has to try hard not to tease him for it.

ㅤㅤ

“I have to kill him,” Harry states from next to her. Y/N has just finished explaining the details of her dream and it jostles her a little but she surprises herself by not minding one bit.

“Okay,” she says. “What if you get hurt?”

And Harry doesn’t mean to be patronising but he laughs, “I’ll be just fine, Y/N.” 

She frowns, “I’m serious. I’m allowed to worry about you too. I don’t even know what this guy is so het up about.”

“I know,” Harry sighs, scratching at his jaw. “I wish I could remember him.” He places a hand on her knee. “But it doesn’t matter now, he’s given me more than enough reason to make sure he isn’t a problem anymore.”

Y/N nods silently.

“How’s your neck feeling?” Harry brushes his knuckle over the mark.

“Fine,” she hums. 

“Don’t feel needy or anything?”

“No.”

“No?” Harry smiles. “Then why are you gripping me so tight?”

Y/N looks down to see her fingers wrapped around his hand on her knee and she frowns. She doesn’t pull away though, she just glares at Harry who pinches her cheek in return.

“You’re cruel,” she grumbles.

Harry’s grin widens, “Yeah,” he leans in, “I’m mean,” closer, “really, so very mean,” he breathes against her mouth, eyes daring to flick to hers before they flutter closed and their lips meet. His hand takes her throat tenderly, not applying pressure, just holding as Y/N mollifies into his kiss. She turns his palm up and intertwines their fingers, squeezing subconsciously when Harry sucks on her top lip.

And he couldn’t find her any cuter, he’s sure, when she leans into him—unaware of her own movements. Harry tries moving back, just to tease, but Y/N follows him like a magnet; lips refusing to part. When he wants to actually speak, he squeezes her throat with the least amount of strength, not expecting her to melt even further into him. He shouldn’t have been surprised. But he doesn’t bring it up now.

“I’m going to have Niall come here for a bit,” he mumbles against her mouth. She’s trying her hardest to keep kissing him.

“Why?” Y/N whines, too enraptured to think about anything other than Harry and his lips.

“To keep you company.” To keep you safe.

She blinks up at him then, forcing her face to distance itself farther than two inches. “No,” she pouts, doing a wonderful job of proving she isn’t feeling needy. “Do you have to go now?”

“Yes, Y/N.” Harry squeezes her hand.

And he can tell that she wants to protest further, so he leans in once again and sponges his lips all over her face—doesn’t stop until she’s giggling and struggling, trying to move away from his unrelenting tickles. She falls back and Harry moves with her, hovering over her body on the sofa as he places sloppy kisses on her skin and trails his hands down her body to find the most reactive spots.

“Harry!” she squeals, wriggling underneath him. “S-Stop!” Her hands flap about, trying to cease his torture. Harry can’t help but smile down at her, eyes shining with fulfilment. “I’ll pee!” She panics and Harry slows down but doesn’t stop.

“How do you know I’m not into that?” He teases and Y/N gasps, determined to escape his grasp.

“Harry! Gross!” And he finally stops his ministrations, leaning back to give her some space as her chest heaves. His hands rest on her waist as he sits back, taking in her mussed hair and glowing face.

“I have to go now or I’ll never do it,” he whispers. Y/N feels her heart swell at the way he’s looking at her. She understands. But she still manages to keep him over her for another ten minutes.

Zennith is pitifully easy to find.

Harry almost feels humiliated at how much the demon has affected Y/N’s life when Harry could have tracked and located him in no longer than five minutes.

Using everything he knows about Zennith, Harry closes his eyes and searches—bounces from place to place with no resistance. Is unsurprised at the lack of concealment of scent or location Zennith has in situ. He retraces moments, smells, and faces that lead Harry in the right direction until he can see a clear outline of where he needs to go.

He also sees the clear outline of an additional presence that Harry hadn’t considered he might have to deal with.

Lucifer’s new abode is similar in size and shape, the only major difference Harry notices being the colour scheme. In his previous dwelling, the Devil had an ironically mild decor, however the deep red and black walls in this interior is the first thing Harry sees, and it unnerves him some.

The fact he’s managed to find Lucifer’s residence without asking and has ambled in with entitlement does cross his mind, but Harry thinks he might get away with it when the demon in question spots him from his gaudy throne and flashes a disturbing smile with open arms.

“Harry Styles. What a wonderful surprise.”

“Hello,” he says, hands making their way behind his back in a subconscious stance.

“I don’t believe you’re supposed to be here but you are a sight for sore eyes.” Lucifer smiles, unabashed.

Harry hesitates, “Sorry… I’m looking for someone. I was led here.”

Lucifer hums, “You’re a good tracker,” and then clicks his fingers a few times, eyes never leaving Harry.

A man steps into the room. A man that Harry recognises. A man that Harry’s fists recognise. Surely not. That was nearly eighty years ago… 

They lock eyes and the demon’s suddenly fill with black. Harry matches him in defence, hands clenching by his side.

“You’re still a bully then,” Harry grits. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucifer sits back to enjoy the scene before him.

Zennith steps further into the room. “Funny… I don’t recall you being the one beaten to within an inch of his life.”

Harry laughs, “You’ve been hanging onto this for eighty years, have you? I didn’t even fucking know your name back then.”

He sees the frown on the demon’s face, before it’s quickly concealed. “No.” He’s sharp. “I moved on. Was happy to forget about the cunt who fucked up my face for his own enjoyment.” Harry clenches his teeth. “And then Boss was telling me about his latest fun… and your name was mentioned. Took me back, didn’t it?” His eyes glower. 

Harry is still processing that the demon before him that’s been causing him trouble is the kid he knocked out when he was nineteen (because he was shouting abuse at Harry, he feels is necessary to add). How pathetic he is to hold a grudge for nearly eighty years (may as well be one hundred if you round it up) and how entitled he seems. 

“I think you’re forgetting some details,” Harry grunts.

“Silence,” Zennith snaps, composure cracking, dark eyes close to producing fog. “Thought I would see how you were doing. See if you were still a depressed little loser. It’s been disappointing to see your disgustingly soft mingling with the humans. Even more disappointing that my friend was unable to have any fun before you vanquished him… That girl really is very pretty.”

Harry’s body tightens up at the sound of Zennith’s sleazy voice mentioning Y/N. He tries to act unbothered but anyone could see his anger double at the perverted nature of his comment.

“It’s a shame she likes you,” he sighs. “You must have your claws in real fuckin’ deep for that dream to have not worked. I’m sure you were there, watching it all happen.”

For a moment, Harry feels undeservedly grateful to Lucifer for not saying anything about the real reason Zennith’s magic didn’t work. But then he decides it wouldn’t matter either way.

Harry stalks towards the demon that might as well still be a little brat of a teenager—he has the mental capacity, that’s for sure. “I don’t know what you think is going to happen now, but I’m sure you won’t enjoy it.”

Zennith backs up with a laugh, eyes momentarily clearing with surprise, “What?” He tries to pretend it’s a windup—a silly, harmless prank. “It’s not that serious, man. Hardly worth going to all the trouble of a fight.”

“Perhaps you’re right. Maybe if you’ll apologise for those things you said to me all that time ago, I’ll feel less murderous,” Harry goads.

“You fucking prissy, you want me to say sorry? You were a sad excuse for a demon then and you’re an even sadder one now.”

Harry hums, well and truly unaffected by the words of a demon who had to cower behind someone else as they did his dirty work, and traumatise a human girl through her dream, “No apology then?”

“Boss, are you gonna let him get away with this?” Zennith throws his hands up in the air, exasperatedly looking at Lucifer.

The Devil simply smiles—making no move to help at all—encouraging the chaos and showing no signs of concern for his employee. Zennith deflates then, with realisation that this could not go his way. The three of them all know that Harry overpowers, every day of the week. He did when he was nineteen, and he will at ninety-eight.

“What the fuck.” Zennith sighs, watching as Harry steps closer and closer. He’s lost his nerve.

ㅤㅤ

Harry thinks that maybe a torturous death is deserved, but all he really wants is to get it over and done with and return to Y/N—who is no doubt having her ear talked off by Niall.

So he makes it quick. Pins Zennith still with his monochromatic eyes—wonders what he’d been doing all this time to be so weak as his arms fall heavily by his sides—and feels as his skull splinters and shatters into pieces and pierces his brain. Watches as his body crumbles and turns to ash before it hits the ground; the pained sounds of the demon echoing throughout Lucifer’s lair before the deafening silence takes over.

Harry’s frowning, eyes closed to purge the image from his head and to try and remove himself from this mindset before he gets really dangerous.

“How debonair!” Lucifer claps. “I usually make so much mess but that… that was beautifully done.”

Harry doesn’t have the control to appease the Devil and his unreturned flirting right now. He hums.

“Shame though, I suppose. He was a good servant… someone will have to take his place.” Harry’s stomach drops and his eyes snap open. Shit. Lucifer is already smiling at him. No, no, no. “Come here.”

His footsteps are light as he makes his way over to Lucifer’s throne. Harry’s not sure he can feel his body at all. He stops in front of him, hands making their way behind his back once more.

“No. Right… here,” Lucifer points to his side. This is where I’ll be standing for the rest of my life, Harry thinks. One hundred, two hundred, three hundred years—

Lucifer presents his cheek, expectantly. Harry blanches. “Be a good demon and prove your loyalty,” he teases. Harry’s heart is beating rapidly, scared that at any moment he’ll be trapped, or killed, or that Y/N will become unsafe and Harry won’t be able to stop it. Hesitantly, he leans down, lips jutting out reluctantly as he forces himself to press a small and obviously uncomfortable kiss to the cheek of the ruler of Hell.

The demon looks accomplished when Harry steps back and clears his throat without saying a word, clearly basking in the glory of belittling and humiliating.

“Okay, off you go now.” Harry nearly chokes on his own saliva, the breath from his lungs forced out.

“I can leave?”

“Yes, yes, go on. I do hope I’ll see you again soon, Harry.”

Y/N likes Niall very much.

Understandably, at first she was unsure; their first meeting not ideal to say the least.. A stranger appears in your home whilst you’re not there and it unnerves you some, to say the least. But he’s kind—really kind. And he gets her hesitation; doesn’t try to force an overbearing friendship which ultimately has Y/N opening much quicker than she usually would.

Niall basks in the joy of getting to tell tales about Harry—things he’s never really been able to tell anyone before. And Y/N can see how much he loves having the upperhand between the two for once—revels in narrating sneaky embarrassing stories whilst Harry isn’t there to tell him off. Y/N finds herself giggling and gasping, leaning towards Niall and holding onto his every word. 

It feels good to know more about Harry. And his closest friend.

Niall doesn’t pry either, which is an instant relief to Y/N. He doesn’t prod, or poke, or demand answers—he just fills the silence with lighthearted conversation which is all Y/N could ask for right now.

There is a moment where quiet overtakes them and Y/N’s mind drifts, just a little.

“Hey,” Niall says gently, “don’t you worry about a thing,” he smiles softly. “Harry’s the toughest sod I know.”

Y/N smiles back, not quite reaching her eyes but she appreciates his words.

“You know, one time…” Niall starts off again, detailing a story involving Harry, three vampires, and a lot of bite wounds. (In hindsight, maybe that isn’t the best story to tell but Niall is only trying to demonstrate Harry’s toughness!)

“You gossiping about me?” A familiar drawl sounds from behind them. Y/N gasps and twists around on the sofa to see a very normal looking Harry standing in the doorway of her bedroom. She hesitates, aware of Niall’s presence, until Harry opens his arms out.

“Come ‘ere, Bambi,” he smiles with tired eyes.

Y/N scrambles over to him, content in his arms as they wrap around her and she buries her face into his chest, inhaling not-so-subtly. She misses the look Harry and Niall give one another, a clear understanding between the two. 

“You look… fine?” Y/N says when she pulls back.

Harry laughs easily, “Fine? You wanted me to come home bloody and bruised, did you?” His hands span across her waist.

“No!” She exclaims, “I was worried, is all. That you would be hurt.”

He smiles, brushing his thumbs against her. “Are you alright?”

Niall chirps up at the question, “Excuse me, we had a lovely time, didn’t we, Y/N?��� She nods. “Are you alright?” he mocks, “she’s bloody great.”

“Okay, Niall, I’m sorry for asking, I’ll never doubt you again.” Harry sighs but it’s playful.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Y/N asks, big eyes looking up at him. His heart softens and he’d kiss her if his friend wasn’t watching.

“I’m just fine, like you said.”

They must hold eye contact for longer than they realise, as Niall clears his throat.

“Are you two alright if I…”

“Yeah, o’course,” Harry says, briefly tearing his eyes away from Y/N. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. Niall nods, smiling back, and then he’s gone.

“So… Niall was telling me some interesting things about you.”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N watches as Harry gets on his knees, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms with no intention of being erotic as he starts to swill out the bathtub. 

But Y/N is a little overwhelmed. He’s here, and they’re together…she thinks. She’s not sure but she doesn’t want to ask—wonders if it’s a silly thing to ponder. For its blatancy or how preposterous it may be.

So she focuses on the one thing she does know—Harry’s ridiculous allure. She watches his back contract under his shirt, stretching the material when he leans over to turn the tap off and his biceps strain when he swishes the water around to clean the tub.

If Harry hears the steady increase of her heart rate then he doesn’t say anything. Only puts the plug in, turns on the hot tap, and generously pours her nicest bubble bath in. And when he stands up from the floor and turns to face her, his mouth is upturned at her swoony expression.

“Pupils a bit big, sweetheart,” he teases, fingers trailing up her arm.

Y/N scoffs, “No, they’re not,” but she has no other point to her argument and no willpower to try to find one. So instead she closes her eyes.

“Hey, don’t hide them from me.” Harry’s fingers digs into her waist and she squeals, eyes snapping back open. “Mine are bigger than yours anyway,” he smiles before he lets the whites and irises of his eyes disappear for just a second.

Y/N still finds herself to be fascinated by his ability to do that, among many other things. But she’s not scared—never scared. “Show off,” she whispers.

“Only because I’m trying to impress you,” Harry leans closer, a wry grin on his face. “Is it working?”

Y/N pushes against his chest, “You’re corny,” but she’s smiling too, and her palms don’t budge him one bit as he covers them with his own and pulls her in further. She’s elated to be here with him but she feels herself not quite knowing how to act.

Harry notices (of course he notices). “You’re on edge, huh?” He looks guilty as he strokes her arms. “Gonna let me take care of you now?” He nods towards the tub. Y/N’s eyes flutter closed as she agrees with a hum. “You’ve got nothing to worry about anymore, I promise, Bambi.”

“Will—” she hesitates, talking once Harry turns his back to make sure the water temperature is okay. He looks over his shoulder. “Will you get in with me?” She supposes there’s no reason to be bashful but a bath is intimate—would Harry want that?

He just smiles and bites back a mocking comment. “I was planning on it,” and Y/N really doesn’t know what’s come over her to feel so shy all of a sudden, because she’d wanted him to get in with her but now she feels silly for even asking! You’ve already seen each other naked! She thinks, desperate to pull herself together.

“You’re overthinking, hm? Working yourself up,” Harry gently prompts, suddenly looming over her, focusing all of her senses.

“Sorry,” Y/N frowns, looking at the floor. Harry doesn’t chastise her, just cups her face softly and angles her head up before pressing his lips to hers. It’s not tactical; not intended to go anywhere, which he makes obvious by keeping his mouth closed. He kisses slowly, leaves her with a soft noise as they part, and then does it again. And again. Until Y/N is sighing—much more relaxed.

Harry pushes his hand under her shirt to rest on her tummy that he’s found himself growing somewhat obsessed with. He leans away from her to pull the fabric up her body and Y/N lifts her arms to make it easier. As soon as it lands in the corner of the room, Harry is back to doting, warm hands sliding up and down Y/N’s arms, along her shoulders to cup her face, down her back, along her waist.

Y/N would say she feels sufficiently warmed up already but Harry continues, kissing her innocently again as his hands move to push down her trousers, fiddling with the button. Y/N feels around for his own shirt, timidly pulling it up to reveal his broad back. Harry peels it over his head and in turn she steps out of her trousers.

“You’re so soft,” Harry whispers against her mouth, lips pouting to press another mindless kiss. His hands are eager to touch every inch of her skin. And soon enough they’re both clad in only underwear, Y/N huddling closer to Harry’s chest when he unclips her bra. “Ready to get in?” He asks, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N can feel every part of Harry against her back as she relaxes into his hold and it’s perhaps the most intimate moment of her life. She’s had sex less close than this. The thick of his thighs encasing her own, the span of his hands wandering her body—lathering her in soap—the feel of his hard chest and the softer parts of his tummy and hips, and the sure hardening of him against her.

Her head was surely muddled before they’d undressed, but now Y/N is confident she is a touch away from just floating off like a feather in the wind. Harry coats her skin in bubbles, encouraging in the way he coaxes her head onto his shoulder. When he dunks the sponge in the water and brings it back up to wash the foam away, Y/N’s breath hitches as the droplets hit her nipples and she feels Harry’s cheek squish up into a small smile.

“Breathe,” he speaks, turning his face into her temple. Y/N exhales shakily, nuzzling into him and Harry lays a delicate press of his lips between her brows before continuing his ministrations. “Are you feeling relaxed?” He asks, already aware of the answer. When Y/N nods hastily, Harry hums, “Not relaxed enough…” the words brushing against her skin, “I think I can do better.”

Gently, he lets the sponge float on the surface, replacing it with his hands as he runs his nails down her arms. Y/N’s chest is rising and falling at an obvious speed and her eyes are struggling to stay open; the anticipation affecting her considerably. “Would you feel better if I touched you…” his hands hover over her breasts, “...here?” He squeezes them far too softly but Y/N still lets out a noise—one that intensifies when Harry tugs and rolls her nipples between his fingers. “Is that nice, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Y/N exhales, unable to concentrate on anything other than the thrumming of her body.

“Are you g’na watch how good I make you feel?” He prompts, nudging her with his nose. Y/N feels like her eyes are glued shut but she makes the effort to peel them open, tilting her chin down to see Harry’s big hands cupping her. She feels a wave roll inside of her. “There’s a good girl,” he praises, and the wave gets bigger. She never tries harder than when he says those words. “You tell me, baby, what do you want me to do?”

Y/N’s never been asked that before. “Whatever you want,” she says to him; not for the first time.

“No,” Harry asserts, “what do you do when you’re alone, hm? How many fingers do you squeeze inside yourself?”

And Y/N would be scorching with embarrassment usually but the arousal she feels overpowers it. Though it’s still hard to speak, “I don’t— m’fingers aren’t long enough—o-or I’m just not good. Doesn’t do anything.”

She may as well have shot Niall right in front of Harry, the way he gasps. It’s mocking, of course, but he sounds genuinely dissatisfied with her answer. “That’s so sad, Bambi. Pretty pussy like yours should be getting stuffed full and satisfied.” His hands are still playing with her tits, running back and forth over the pebbled peaks, and squeezing the flesh which aids the pant she lets out from his erotic words. “You want me to teach you?” Y/N shakes her head no, too desperate for Harry’s touch. “No? You want my fingers?” She’s quick to agree as he trails a hand down her body, over her ribs, and her tummy, and her mound—daring to dip lower.

“Please?”

“Mm, mine are much longer and thicker than yours, aren’t they?” His other hand pinches her nipple and Y/N arches her back as her hips struggle to coax Harry lower. “Nothing in comparison to my cock though, Bambi. How are you g’na take me if you don’t even fuck yourself with your fingers, hm?”

“I will, I will!” She rushes out. “I can take you. Please touch me, Harry.” Y/N turns her face into his jaw and sponges open-mouthed kisses wherever she can reach.

“We’ll make it fit, won’t we?” Harry presses down on her clit and Y/N moans into his skin, nodding unabashedly. He travels lower to gather the wetness between her thighs. And Harry knows they’re submerged in water but the thick substance that coats his fingers is unmistakable—he wishes he could lap it up.

Harry’s cock is stiff against Y/N’s back and each time she arches and rests back against it, he sighs into her ear; pretty and provoked. She is thrumming—vibrating with want—never had anyone edge her so close to orgasming by hardly touching her. Her hands lay useless on Harry’s knees, subconsciously gripping him when he starts circling her clit with intent.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he orders, overly aware of her every move. It’s hard, not to just lay back and feel but Y/N keeps her eyes as open as possible, watching the flex of Harry’s wrist and the movement of his fingers over her. Her abdomen starts to flutter as he builds her up but Harry takes his hand away before she can start to give into it.

Y/N wants to whine and whinge but then his hand returns lower, fingers circling her entrance before he dips a single one inside. And his really are much longer and thicker than hers because it already feels better than when she tries and he’s only got one finger in.

Slowly, does Harry enter her, allowing for the adjust before deliciously curling and hitting the spongy place inside that has Y/N gasping and tightening her grip on Harry’s knees. She instinctively clenches around him; Harry has to bite back a tease about how desperate her body is and draws his finger back and forth inside of her warmth. Her eyes close for less than a second but in that time he pulls out of her and she snaps them back open, a plea on the tip of her tongue but it’s not necessary, as Harry sinks in a second finger beside the first and stretches her out some. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling, but one of immense fullness and warm buzzing throughout her tummy as he perfectly stimulates her with every curl and drive.

“Y’squeezing me so tight,” Harry says, voice gravelly—turned on—as the hand holding Y/N’s breast moves down to her stomach to readjust and pull her tighter against him. She gazes at the vastness of his hand on her body and then to the one moving inside of her and another wave passes and pulsates between her legs and around Harry’s fingers as he speeds up, thumb stretching to pass over her clit in focused circles. “You’re g’na feel so good around my cock, Bambi,” he twitches against her back. “I can’t wait to fuck you.” Y/N mewls, body pushing into Harry’s hands. “You’ll let me, won’t you?” His breath is warm against her neck.

“Yes, anything,” she sighs, hand finding his and desperately gripping. He interlocks their fingers against her tummy as he starts to press contrastingly precious kisses to her jaw and neck. Y/N’s so close her body is tensing up in anticipation. “Please, please, please.”

“I’ve got you, come on, baby. Come f’me,” he litters kisses between breaths and Y/N is so close, so close. Throws her head back and lets her eyes shut—and Harry allows it, occupied by the stretch of her neck as he licks and sucks and rubs and fucks her until his fingers are being squeezed impossibly tight and she’s coming around him. She lets out the prettiest of noises, writhing in his grip as he guides her through her orgasm and his dick starts to become demanding the more she moves and moans, her body against him feeling like the softest of velvets or silks. 

But he ignores it; ignores everything but Y/N.

She blindly searches for his kiss, body melting in bliss as she comes down from the intense heights of pleasure. Mewling and sighing into him with each press of their open mouths. His fingers stay inside of her, reveling in the subtle but sure pulses she gives, unable to resist the urge of curling them a little to make her jump in his arms.

“You’ll become greedy for that,” he mutters against her lips before nibbling her bottom one and pulling back to look into her satisfied eyes—big and moony, just for him.

She hums, unashamed in her post-orgasmic haze. “Is it your turn now?”

ㅤㅤ

Harry wanted to devour her whole as soon as those words left her mouth—wanted to push her back and have his way with her. But the bath water was cooling, and their skin was getting all pruned, and realistically Harry knew that fucking her for the first time would not be happening in the tub. She deserved better than to be pounced upon in a claustrophobic box.

And Harry was already good at ignoring his needs so what difference would five minutes make?

He kisses her with a smile on his face, slowly pushing upwards to get out of the tub. Her gaze follows him hungrily, lips threatening to pout if he doesn’t start paying attention to her again immediately. But he gathers a towel and helps her out, wrapping her up—delicately and thoroughly drying her body. It’s hard for Harry not to swaddle her completely and smother her face in kisses but he resists.

Teasingly, he wanders her backwards towards her bedroom, towel still pressed to her body; watching how hard Y/N is trying not to make a fuss. He thinks she’s doing a pretty good job until he realises her true intentions, seemingly forgetting the speed of Harry’s reflexes. When the edge of Y/N’s bed touches her calf, she attempts to spin around—the motivation of pushing him down irresistible in her head. She barely turns a fraction, however, before Harry’s hand is clamping around her bicep and squashing their fronts together.

“No,” Y/N whines, “I was trying to be sexy.”

“You’re very sexy,” Harry smiles, nose dropping to rub against hers.

“But—” 

Harry knows what she wants. He also knows how prettily she begs for him, and how easily too. Thinks he wants to push that button a little.

“What does my needy baby want?”

Though it seems he’s underestimated her on this occasion, as she tries very hard to display bratty behaviour and stand her ground. Y/N crosses her arms across her chest, ripping the towel from Harry’s grasp to cover up by herself.

“You don’t wanna tell me?” He tries, wondering how quickly he’ll be able to dismantle her walls. When Y/N shakes her head, he ups his game. “S’not very nice, is it? Made you come on my fingers but you won’t be good f’me?” Her heart drops a little, guilt seeping in. But she won’t beg. She won’t.

“I—”

“I was gonna be so nice to you, little thing. Make you come around my cock until you couldn’t think straight… but if you can’t even tell me what you want then I guess you won’t get anything, huh.”

She’s gripping the towel so tightly, knuckles bulging. “I am… good,” she tries, eyes falling down to his nakedness. It looks near painful. All she wants is to taste him.

Harry hums, “You usually are. Where’s she gone? My good girl.” He covers her hands, removing them from the towel so he can tug her closer. “Just tell me what you want, baby. Always so pretty when you beg.” Harry dips down, pushing the towel to the floor as his lips meet her neck and his hands slide across her ribs, thumbs brushing over her nipples.

She’s done for; never stood a chance. Not really. She squeaks as he grazes his teeth along her skin. “I want you… in my mouth… please.” The words come out breathy, shallow. But they’re hardly desperate.

“You can do better than that,” Harry says, pulling back to look into her eyes. “Prove that you want it.”

And her shyness has returned some—so it’s harder for her—but she shuffles closer, palms gliding up his biceps. “I wanna… make you feel good. The way you do for me,” she whispers. And it’s so soft, Harry can’t help but be taken aback. It wasn’t begging in the way he was used to but his heart swells. “You deserve it all the time. Please let me.”

“All the time?” Harry smiles. “You want my cock in your mouth all the time?”

“Yes,” Y/N breathes, looser now. “Please?”

And who was he to say no? When she thought he deserved it so much.

Harry moves to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching behind him to grab one of her pillows to stuff under her knees as she kneels down. He strokes her hair, tucking it behind her ears and gathering it in his hands before it can fall around her face. Y/N rests her cheek on his knee, eyes glued to his shiny, red tip as it stands against his stomach.

“You trying to tease me, Bambi?” He tugs her hair a little.

“No…” she bites her lip to hide the smile, coyly looking up at him.

He doesn’t have to reply because Y/N’s leaning forward and licking a broad stripe along the entirety of him, eliciting a sigh from Harry as he watches her intently. She brings a hand up, angling him towards her mouth so she can kiss at his head, tongue darting out to taste the salty precome that’s spilling out of his slit. The grip in her hair tightens when she starts to suckle at him—she goes crazy for it, humming around his cock as she starts to move her hand up and down around him.

His noises have her thighs squeezing together; low and rumbling. Y/N knows they get higher in pitch the closer he is to coming and she is determined to get him there.

“Take me deeper,” Harry demands, hand wrapping around his base to encourage her. “Know you can.”

“Mhm,” Y/N hums around him, letting her jaw drop for Harry to feed his cock into her mouth. She can’t take all of him, but she tries all the same. Flutters her eyes shut and focuses on breathing through her nose as she drags her tongue along the underside of him and works whatever she can’t fit with her hand. When she starts to bob her head in coordinated movements and sucks her cheeks in, Harry’s abs tense and his head falls back on his shoulders.

“Hot little mouth,” he manages to say through a moan. “Made for me… made for my cock, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” When she hums again and the vibrations shoot through him, he bucks slightly, gagging her on him. Y/N retracts sharply but her insides still flip-flop about. “Fuck,” Harry groans, pulling her off him by her hair. Her hand doesn’t stop as she catches her breath. “Sorry, baby, feels so good.”

Her rounded out eyes look at him like he’d carved the Earth for her personally. She really would let him do anything.

“You wanna make me come?” He strokes her cheek as she nods. “Go on then. Make me come and then I’ll put my cock in you.” Harry relishes in the way Y/N’s eyebrows cinch together at the excitement and desperation, and her thighs squeeze impossibly tight as she takes him back into her mouth. She has a newfound determination, taking him as far down her throat as she can go before withdrawing to take a deep breath and then continuing. Her hand twists and squeezes, moving up to thumb at his drippy head when she leans back to breathe—and Harry’s chest is heaving more and more, eyes slipping in and out of their demonic state as she works him.

It’s when she leans back down as start tonguing at his frenulum that Harry moans and twitches, leaking out and into her mouth. “Yeah—yes, fuck. Keep going.” A whine gets caught in his throat as his head falls forward, chin touching his chest and his jaw loose. They make eye contact as she stretches her lips back around his tip, sucking and licking—so desperate to taste his come. And he’s close, moans after every breath and struggles keeping his hips down.

“G’na come,” Harry whines. “G’na come down your throat.” Y/N mewls around him, sinking further down and speeding up her hand until she starts to feel the warm spurts filling her mouth. Harry’s noises make her spine tingle as he praises her, “Good girl— swallow it all—so good. Fuck,” hands threading gently through her hair as he comes down.

ㅤㅤ

He barely softens, grateful for his demon stamina because he thinks he might drop dead if he doesn’t get inside Y/N in an instant. “Come ‘ere,” he says with a rumble, pulling her up by her underarms until she’s straddling Harry’s hips. His cock rubs against the both of them, spreading saliva and precome across their stomachs. Y/N surges forward, catching his mouth in desperation as she grinds down, angling herself to rub her wetness against his dick.

“In,” she whines against his lips, clit perfectly stimulated as she humps him. “Want it in now, please.”

Harry strokes his tongue against hers, licking into her like she’s made of honey whilst he takes a hold of himself, smearing her arousal as he paints his head through her folds. Y/N gasps, hips stuttering when she feels his thick mushroom tip prod against her entrance.

“Relax f’me, baby. Breathe nice and slow.” She listens, inhaling as deep as she can as she slowly lowers down. The stretch of him is nearly overwhelming but it’s delicious and her hands have to shoot out for grounding, one landing on Harry’s shoulder and the other cupping his cheek. He tilts his face into it, pressing a soft kiss to the spongy part of her palm. “That’s good,” he whispers as he gets deeper and deeper inside of her, “you’re so beautiful.” Y/N’s eyes squeeze shut with emotion, forehead dropping against Harry’s.

He’s fully inside her now and Y/N is sitting on him, adjusting to the feel and trying not to squirm. Harry starts teasing again once he feels her begin to grind her clit against his pelvis. “You gonna ride me?” Y/N nods, lifting up slightly before dropping back down. “You think your wobbly little legs will be able to cope with that, Bambi?” Harry grins, pushing forward to kiss her open mouth.

“I can do it,” Y/N whimpers, lifting up further. “I can.” She drops back down harder, moaning at the feeling of Harry hitting that spot inside of her. He maintains much more composure than she does, looking at her through his lashes as she starts to bounce up and down, and sliding his palms across her back.

“Am I filling you up good?” Y/N whines, nodding. “Told you we’d make it fit, didn’t I? Taking me so well, baby.” And he places a hand on her lower stomach, pressing in slightly with a smirk on his face. “Can you feel me here?”

“Uh-huh, so big,” Y/N moans, looking down to see his large hand span across her.

“G’na make you feel empty without me,” Harry promises, leaning down to take one of Y/N’s breasts into his mouth, sucking a mark into her skin. Her thighs are already starting to burn—each movement harder than the last as their bodies slap against one another.

“Harry,” Y/N mewls, hands threading through his hair. He hums into her chest, moving to her other breast and giving it the same treatment. His hands hold tightly onto her waist, assisting her movements up and down on his cock more and more until he finally leans back.

“You need my help now, don’t you? Told you you couldn’t do it, little thing.” Y/N frowns, grip tightening in Harry’s hair. “Just need me to take care of you.”

“Please,” she begs—for what exactly she’s not sure but Harry knows what she needs.

Confidently, Harry grips the underside of Y/N’s thighs, shuffling back on the bed so he can pull his knees up. She doesn’t get long enough to prepare before Harry starts fucking up into her with no warning. Y/N struggles, but she manages to throw her arms around his neck, hiding her face into the side of his as he pounds into her—the harsh clapping sounds of their bodies hitting each other echoing throughout the room.

She’s so wet, it’s surprising that there isn’t a puddle on Harry’s abdomen as he holds her up and drives his cock into her again, and again. Y/N is a mess of noise, mouth stuck open and whimpering into Harry’s skin as he fucks her until she can’t think of anything else.

“My little human just takes whatever I give her, huh?” His deep, punctuated voice mixed with mocking words sends her already muddled brain into even more of a tizzy.

“Only you—feels so good,” Y/N manages to cry. “I’m g’na—”

“—Look at me,” Harry weaves a hand through her hair and pulls her out of his neck. “Look at me when I make you come. All over my cock, yeah?”

“Yes—yes, all over,” Y/N keeps her half-lidded eyes on him; a monumental struggle when Harry moves his hand from her hair to her clit, rubbing messily over her. His pounding subsides none, getting harder if anything—going balls deep with every thrust—and all she wants is to collapse into him but she doesn’t look away, despite how kinked her brows become and how much her body screams at her to throw her head back.

It hits her staggeringly, eyes fighting to roll into the back of her head as she cries out and squeezes Harry’s cock, orgasm stifling her. He slows down his thrusts, hands rubbing soothingly into her back as she mindlessly whimpers his name.

“I know, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” he tenderly adjusts them, flipping her onto her back so she can melt into the mattress. “Have you got one more? Can you give me one more, baby?” He asks, her cunt still pulsating around him.

“Slow,” Y/N whispers, eyes blurry, “please.”

Harry leans down, pressing sweet kisses to her forehead, eyebrows, nose, cheeks, hips pushing into her breathtakingly slowly. A lazy smile overtakes her features as Harry dotes on her, pouting up at him with a spacey expression. He complies easily, moulding his lips to hers. It’s gentle, the sound their mouths make as they part—Harry traces his thumb across her bottom lip, pulling it down and watching it snap back up before licking her open and feeding her his tongue.

It’s hard for Y/N to muster up the strength enough to kiss him back, and her reactions are delayed, but Harry doesn’t mind; happy to be so close. 

And in a moment of vulnerability he quietly asks, “You really want me?”

Y/N knows he’s not talking about sex, bringing a leaden hand up to his face and stroking his cheek. “More than anything, Harry.”

His heart inflates ten times the size of his chest, he’s sure—he’s never known anything to feel so good, but Y/N was his person, and she wanted him.

Harry’s orgasm approaches rapidly at her words, and he’s desperate to get Y/N there again, hand trailing down her body to find her puffy clit. She jumps at the feeling.

“Shh, I know you’re sensitive, baby. Just need one more,” he kisses her again. “Be good f’me and then I’ll give you my come.” Y/N whines, trying to turn her head into the mattress. “Where would you like it? On your tits? Your ass?” He thrusts in harder. “I think I’d like it on your tummy, what d’you think?”

“Yes,” Y/N moans, unspecific in her agreement.

Harry laughs. “You don’t think anything, do you? Just lay there all pretty and let me do all the hard work.” His hips snap against her harder and harder—pace still slow but he’s hitting her spongy spot unquestionably as Y/N grips onto his biceps that bulge underneath her palms.

“Harry,” she cries, pussy starting to flutter around him.

He groans, “Fuck, squeeze my cock like that. You feel so good.”

He stretches down, taking her nipple into his mouth and tonguing over the pebbled peak. The sound of his balls thwacking against her ass reverberates, and Y/N’s moans compete for volume as she contracts tighter, and tighter around him. 

“Y’my person, en’t that right?” He circles her clit faster.

Y/N nods, neck stretching as she turns her head about against the sheets. Desperately, she grasps at his back, silently begging for his closeness. Harry drops down, hand trapped between them awkwardly but the weight of him delights her considerably as he hits deeper inside of her.

“Yours,” she exhales. “Please come, Harry.”

His hips stutter, nearly shooting right inside of her. “You first, baby.” Harry speeds up his hand and rolls her other nipple between his teeth. “Soak me.”

Y/N clamps down around him, tightness hurling Harry closer, as she comes for the third time that night. Her mouth opens in a silent cry, so exhausted but so blissful. Her nails dig into his skin and he relishes in the sharp pain, pulling his hand away to coax his wet fingers into her mouth. 

Watching Y/N’s satisfied expression as she cleans his fingers is enough to make Harry come, pulling out of her quickly and fisting his hand over his cock a couple of times before he’s painting her stomach white. He groans, head hanging low with his eyes fighting to stay locked with Y/N’s.

And then he’s flopping down on top of her, uncaring of the come he’s lying on. He’ll get up in a minute, find a washcloth and clean them both up, before gathering her up in his arms and praying to God (if he has to) that this isn’t a dream.

He thinks that after eighty years of killing and feeling like he’d found his purpose, that his life has new meaning now. That this is what he was meant to do. That Y/N is his purpose.

ㅤㅤ

“Harry?” Her soft voice pulls him from his head and he pushes back just enough to look down at her sleepy face. “I’m so happy,” she smiles, “and I’m so glad Imogen is a useless angel.”

He laughs, from deep within his chest, and leans down to smear their lips together—unable to kiss her for long without breaking into a smile—before pulling back and whispering against her forehead.

“Me too, Bambi, me too.”

[moonchildstyles]

sin

y/n is an angel and harry is a demon whos taught her how much fun it can be to sin

wordcount: 7.8k+

—————

The first time (Y/N) floated down from the clouds, she had no idea what a Pocket was, let alone where to find one. That time felt so long ago with the way she could now navigate herself to her favorite Pocket without a second thought. The route had become one of familiarity, guiding butterflies flitting through her stomach the closer she made it with every step. 

Slipping out of sight of the main street, she counted thirteen paces down the quiet alleyway before finding the brick that needed just the right touch before it would show off the hidden doorway she needed. The brick was grainy and rough under her palm, her skin catching on the mortar as she pushed against it until it finally gave away underneath. Just like that, the seemingly solid wall opened up, revealing an entryway for her eyes only. 

(Y/N) felt giddy as she stepped inside, the doorway vanishing behind her when she crossed the threshold. She knew it was secure once more when there was a breeze that skated over her skin and fluffed through her wings, seemingly sealing her away from the rest of the world. In a way, it was, but there was still a waiting invitation to the one other person who knew about this Pocket—the one that had shown her the way in the first place.

Getting comfortable while she waited, (Y/N) was happy to see the place was untouched from her last visit. When she had first seen this Pocket, it was the closest thing she had ever seen to an interdimensional "bachelor pad". There hadn't been much of anything to see that first time, only the bones of someone’s presence though they were too busy to return much. She remembered it had felt stale as if it had been abandoned for years despite the unmade bed in the corner with messy sheets and tufted comforter. 

Harry had told her it was a place he barely used—it was one of the first Pockets he conjured on his own, and he'd since honed the craft into bringing something more extravagant to life. He still visited just to keep the curse fresh, but he otherwise only stayed there if it was necessary and no other options were available. 

His last resort had since become their hideaway. Special for just the two of them; another secret for them to share with one another. 

It had come a long way from when she had first visited with Harry on her tail, leaving behind the less than ideal bed set up, and vacant walls. (Y/N) had used all of her inspiration from seeing countless humans decorate their homes, turning the dreary Pocket into a cozy getaway. Heaven didn't necessarily allow for a lot of individualism when it came to living spaces, seeing as how everything was ordained to be pristine and creamy. Here, (Y/N) got to use as much color as she wanted—as long as it didn't spur any headaches for Harry, anyway. 

Now, there was an actual bed frame holding up a cushy mattress, the pillows feather soft and always cool to the touch. The bedding was a warm orangey color, playing off of the greens and pinks throughout the space. There were pictures—canvases full of paint Harry said he "found" through his travels—pinned to the walls, playing into the bright hues (Y/N) was toying with. A rug now sat in the middle of the room in the shape of a paint blob in a creamy green shade that made her think of Harry's eyes. The kitchen—though near unnecessary given their statuses—was given the same treatment as the rest of the studio-sized space. There were magnets covering the unused fridge, appliances and bowls of always fresh fruit sitting on the counter. A bouquet of flowers that never died were sitting on the bedside table, perfuming the air with a light fragrance that drew her in. Her favorite part was the mirror by the bed, ornate and carved with cherubs. 

Walking in felt like a breath of fresh air. As much as she loved being an angel—guiding humans in need, taking care of those who needed her touch, changing lives for the better—being here in this Pocket was the one thing she could see herself loving more.

It would be a little bit better if she wasn't alone, though. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, fluffy wings tucked against her back, she fixed her eyes on the doorless portal, waiting for the telltale creek and scrape of concrete that would signal Harry's arrival. This was the bad part of being chronically early, she thought, never being sure when the other would show up and keep her from being lonely. 

Lucky for her, it was only another handful of minutes before her ears picked up on the familiar sound of footsteps trailing over the pavement. Her breath caught when they stopped just outside where the Pocket's door was, a smile unfurling on her features when that first creek sounded through the room. She rose to her feet just in time to see the first uniform crack in the wall before the rest of the doorway came to be. 

Slipping inside, Harry didn't wait for the portal to shut behind him before he was crossing the room to meet her. 

"(Y/N)," he sighed, his grin toothy and completely with dimples, "Sorry I took so long." 

Wrapping his arms around her, (Y/N) melted into his embrace. His hands settled just below her fluffy wings, holding her close while she rested her cheek on his chest. 

"It's okay," she murmured, eyes fluttering to a close as she soaked in his warmth, "I'm happy you're here." 

Harry's response came in the form of a small kiss being dropped on the top of her head, the contact decidedly delicate as opposed to his nature. He'd told her before that she was the only one that could draw that side of him out—the docile side that had no alignment with chaos or sabotage. This side of him was just for her, he'd shared. 

Shifting his hands on her, his fingertips brushing her wings with a shudder shooting down (Y/N)'s spine, Harry repositioned until he had his hands cradling her cheeks as he tipped her head up to face him. His dark eyes shimmered green, taking in each of her features as if it were the first time again. 

"I've missed you," he crooned, "So much, darling. What have you been up to since the last time I saw you?" 

Despite there being no way for anyone, mortal or otherwise to overhear them, every word he spoke to her was uttered like a secret. Just for her. 

"I missed you," she smiled, unlooping her own arms to settle with her hands on his chest, "But, I've been okay. Just doing angel stuff." 

His lips quirked into a lopsided curve, his thumb brushing along the height of her cheekbone. "Always angel stuff with you. No breaks." 

"No breaks," she played along as if she wasn't currently in the middle of a break with him right now, where not even her creator could spot her if she tried, "What about you?" 

"Just the opposite of angel stuff," he teased, managing to bring a smile to her face despite knowing the reality of his joke. He had a certain way of putting it, describing his job, that made it not sound so bad when it came to (Y/N)'s sensibilities. (Truthfully, it could be because she just liked his voice. He could make anything sound heavenly). 

"Fun?" she smiled, letting him walk her back towards the bed. 

"Always," he hummed, escorting her backwards until her legs hit the edge. 

Tumbling back, a bubbling laugh left (Y/N)'s lips as she clung to Harry. He fell atop her, her thighs splitting to settle him between. Underneath, the mattress conformed to the shape of her wings, Harry's hands pressing into the planes of her back as if she wasn't close enough as is. 

Before the world had a chance to settle around her, Harry tipped his chin and pressed his lips to hers. Though she didn't have much to compare it to, (Y/N) had little doubt that there could ever be a better kisser out there than Harry. Her point was proven every time he sealed his mouth to hers, her top lip cradled between his two. 

This was never going to get old, she knew. Not with the bubbling that ignited under her skin at the contact, the way there was nothing more she wanted than to cling to him and bask in his warmth. With every angling and tipping of their heads, movements made in tandem, she was drawn deeper and deeper in everything that was him. Tucked underneath him like this, mouth coming together and parting with soft breaths between, it was hard to think that the universe had crafted them to be enemies. 

Tracing his mouth down from hers, dotting a line over her jaw, Harry murmured in her ear, "I don't have much time, darling." 

"No?" she asked, a pout evident in just the single syllable, "Why not?" 

Harry drew back only to give her an apologetic smile. "Opposite of angel stuff, remember?" 

"Since when does that have a schedule?" She sounded petulant even to her own ears, but if there was one sin she was willing to commit, it was greed when it came to Harry. 

"Since I told Sarah I would meet up with her soon," Harry offered the challenge with a raised brow. Sarah wasn't like the others of his kind, she was more stubborn and would actually go looking for him if he stood her up, if only to wreak havoc for him personally as revenge. 

"To do not-angel stuff that I'll have to clean up later?" she pressed, feeling her attitude leak away now that she knew her time was limited with him. 

His smile was brilliant at her words, wide with bracketing dimples. "Of course. That's why we work so well, darling." 

It was that kind of language, the sweet one that made even demon activities sound silly, that had her splitting into a smile before tipping her chin in hopes of coaxing him into a kiss. It didn't take much convincing for Harry's lips to press into hers, resuming the lingering kissing he'd interrupted before. 

On her back, Harry shifted his hands until he grazed the stem of her wings. The second his fingertips glanced against the base of one fluffy, tightly packed feather, a shudder wormed down her spine. Her breathing stuttered in her chest, a furrow pinching at her brow. From the way he had to keep from smiling against her mouth, she knew he was aware of the effect of his touch—undoubtedly intentional. 

It was the easiest way to get her riled up, and that was exactly what he needed for their time limit. 

Just as he'd surely hoped, there was a change in the pacing of their kissing. (Y/N) leaned into his touch, anticipating another lingering touch against her wings. Her hands slid over his chest, fingers denting the blocky muscles that made up his body, landing on the shelf of his shoulders. Her fingertips hooked into the solid muscle, clinging to him. 

Her heartbeat stutters behind her ribs when she felt his hands shifting on her back. This time, he dared to run his fingers through the feathers, the structure underneath down was grazed by his warm touch. An involuntary moan slipped from her mouth and into his.

Instead of something smug crossing his features, Harry only kissed her harder. His mouth was hot, taking in her sudden pants from his touch. 

"Harry?" she murmured, breathless against his mouth. He didn't bother drawing away from her as he hummed, the pillows of his lips dragging over hers. "Do we have enough time?" 

This finally had his lips quirking. He nodded his head gently, the tip of his nose grazing her own. "I'll make time."

When she felt his hands drift away from her wings, she wanted to complain. She wanted to whine enough for him to know she didn't like that he was moving on, but that need was quieted when she felt his palm settle on the plush of her thigh. His touch was heavy and warm, denting into the soft skin while the other hooked around her waist in a cradle. 

In one fluid motion, he had her on her back with her mouth dropped open in a gasp. Instinctively, she had tightened her grip on him, her legs wrapping around his waist during the roll. By the time Harry was underneath her, her surprise had morphed into laughter, her chest pressed to his as she slumped into him. 

"You scared me," she bubbled, shifting in his lap with her knees bracketing his hips. 

"Sorry, darling," he murmured with a soft smile, the pitch of his pupils blown wide as he took her in. 

Steadying her, he settled his hand on her hips as she planted her hands on his chest to prop herself up above him. She could feel her wings fluff out behind her, no longer confined against the mattress. Harry's eyes followed the span of her feathers, the stretch reaching just slightly wider than her shoulders. He'd told her more than once how cute he thought her wings were—he'd never seen any quite as fluffy as hers, especially compared to his own. 

He looked up at her with reverence in his gaze, something adoring and smothering dancing in his irises as he watched her from below. She felt warm under his eyes, her fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt to keep herself from preening like a dove under his attention.

His adoring gaze translated into his soft hands trailing over the curve of her form, his palms warming the ladder of his ribs with his thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts. Even through her dress, his touch elicited a round of gooseflesh to prickle her skin. Her breath lagged in her lungs. 

Though time hadn't ever felt like much for (Y/N), seeing as she was immortal, Harry had made her impatient. It'd been a handful of days since the last time they had snuck off to their Pocket, but those days had felt like years to her body without his touch. 

The trail of his gaze almost felt tangible, warm and heavy, the longer he watched her. 

"What?" she asked, feeling breathless when he ran his thumbs against the swells of her chest. 

He didn't bother to pull his eyes from where they lingered on her body, especially liking the way her thighs were split around his hips under the hem of her dress. "Nothing," he mumbled, shaking his head against the pillows cushioned underneath, "Jus' haven't had y'on top in a while. I like it." 

She had thought before that greed was the only sin he could inspire in her, but lust was quickly overtaking the top spot. He was right; she didn't usually get a chance to look at him like this. While she loved lying underneath him, at his mercy while he drove himself home between her legs, there was something to be said about the perspective she gained while sitting astride his lap like this. 

His hair laid in soft waves against the linen of this pillows, curling towards his face as if a frame for a portrait. His lashes were long and dark, framing his eyes and drawing his prey in at a glance. There was a spray of freckles glancing off the bridge of his nose, faint against the cream of his skin. Though his eyes were dark, there were shatters of green that could be seen if one were close enough to spot the hues. His body was made of strong lines and angles, his jaw, much of the same despite the soft skin of his lips and the gentle way he admired her. 

He was the perfect demon—the perfect temptation. If not for the fact she knew what was hidden away, she would have argued he was an angel like her. 

"I like it, too," she told him, breathless, "I like it when you look at me like that." 

"Yeah?" he prodded, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth when he finally matched her gaze. His hands on her sides drifted down until he met the hem of her dress, taking the delicate material between his fingers. "Can I see more of you then, darling? Promise I'll keep looking at you like this."

Biting back her smile, she drew her hands away from his chest to grab for the hem of her dress. Moving his own hands back, he watched as she pulled her dress over her head, wings tucked against her back with the material drifting over her feathers. The familiar butterflies that came with revealing her body in a way she had never anticipated she would in her angel life flittered through her stomach. Their fluorescent wings flew high enough to glance over the chambers of her heart, feeling just as real as the warmth of his eyes draping over her newly exposed skin. Between Harry's legs, she felt a ridge thicken, pressing into her core with every drawing breath she pulled into her lungs. 

Throwing her dress to the floor, her form was left with only a dainty pair of underwear sitting on her hips and a matching bra barely covering her breasts. 

Harry's dark eyes seemingly left behind the slight hue of green, instead revealing only pitch black irises that blended seamlessly into his pupils. If any more of his control slipped, the whole of his eyes would match the inky darkness—a sight (Y/N) used to fear that now had her blood pumping. 

He couldn't help himself before he had his hands on her once more. His touch was adoring, lingering and warm. 

"Y'planned for this didn't you?" he mused, raising a brow when he met her eyes. 

"What do you mean?" she asked, canting her head with her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

"You know," he drawled, his hips shifting underneath her own with a cursory roll, "I thought y'were an angel, and here y'are dressing in lingerie to seduce a demon. How'd y'even get into heaven, hm?" 

The way he spoke to her was thrilling in a way that could rival his touch; he made her feel dirty, questioning how someone like the girl in his lap could have snuck into heaven, while touching and looking at her with reverence she could only keen under. 

"I thought you liked it when I did this," she countered, her lips tugging into a faux-frown. 

"Oh, I do, darling. Can't you tell?" 

With that, the slow roll he'd given with his hips morphed into a strong buck against her hips. The ridge she'd felt before was now a bulge, heavy and pushing. Her wings fluttered recalling the last time he had stuffed himself inside her, her legs thrown over his shoulders and tears in her eyes. 

The memory had her shifting her hips against his, rolling her core over the bulge she felt in his lap. Harry's breath hitched just as a petite moan hummed from her chest. His hands on her waist tightened, fingertips denting the soft flesh. 

"Do that again for me, darling," Harry murmured, his voice a low rumble as if it were a secret only to be shared with her, "Put on a pretty show for me." 

Planting her hands on his abdomen, feeling the blocks of muscle underneath his shirt, she steadied herself on him as she began rolling her hips against his once more. The rough texture of his jeans could be felt through her thin panties, both his thickening cock and the seaming of his pants pressing into her clit. Her knees planted on either side of his hips were digging into the mattress, spreading that much wider the more she rocked against him to sink herself onto him that much more. Her wings fluttered behind her, her feathers fanning in a short fluff at her back. 

Under her hands, Harry's stomach was tense, muscles densely bunched together. She glanced up at him to find him watching her with hooded eyes, his gaze feeling just as heavy and tangible as his hands on her waist. The sight had her grinding her hips that much harder against his cock, a shiver thrilling up her spine until a breathless moan fell from her lips. 

"I could watch you all day, darling," Harry mused, his voice rumbling under her hands as much as it reached her ears, "But, we don't have that kind of time, do we?" 

"No," she answered automatically, a whine to her voice as she shook her head. She didn't really feel like thinking about how quickly their time would be cut short. 

His hands on her waist slid down until he reached her hips, his grip solidifying until he had her stopped in her tracks. Her fingers curled in the material of his shirt, her bottom lip sinking under the weight of her teeth. 

"Get me out, darling."

Maybe it was the deep rumble of his voice, or the steadfast contact of his eyes with hers, but (Y/N) could have melted in that moment. Her lungs squeezed with her heart rattling behind her ribs. It was only when a smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth that she realized she had lingered too long admiring him. 

Unfurling her hands from his top, she fumbled at the waist of his pants. Every shifting of her hips against his lap had her in a daze, making it that much harder to concentrate on following his instructions—something he was well aware of with the way he had his own pelvis rocking upwards as if he didn't know what he was doing. 

Pulling down his jeans enough to expose his black briefs, (Y/N) could have breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to hook her fingers in the waist of his underwear. A spray of goosebumps touched at his skin, his cock visibly jumping when she reached for his cock. 

His skin was heated, shaft thick with his head leaking by the time she had her fist wrapped around him. Shoving his briefs down enough to pull him out, (Y/N) had her attention stolen and pinned to his cock. The head was leaking and red, a pearl of precum glossing from his slit. She instinctively wrapped her hadn't around his shaft, feeling the ridge of his head under her palm and the pumping of the vining vein wrapped around. A heavy breath shuddered through his chest at the touch. (Y/N) couldn't keep her eyes off of him, lusty adrenaline sparking through her system at the thought that he was in this state because of her. 

"You're so cute, darling," Harry said, breathless as he drew her out of her head. 

"Huh?" she murmured, tearing her eyes away from his ruddy cock and the shallow pumps she made around his shaft. 

If he'd had an answer at the ready, he'd cut himself off as he sank into the mattress with a sigh. The pristine pillow compressed under his head when he threw it back in the preludes of ecstasy. 

"Jus' you," he murmured, recovering with his eyes only opening to a slit, "'S always like the first time with, isn't it? Y'always look at me like you've never seen me before—'s cute."

She felt shy all of a sudden, as if she didn't have his cock in her hand. Her wings tucked to her shoulder blades, cocooning her together as if they could shrink and hide her. 

"I like you," she told him, "That's all." 

"Yeah?" he pressed smugly, his cheeks beginning to flush as (Y/N) just laid her hand on him without offering the relief of her fist, "Jus' like me?" 

A bashful tug had her lips curling into a small smile. "I love you." 

"That's what I thought." 

With that, one of his hands on her waist abandoned post only to land on the back of her neck. His palm was a cuff around the warm skin as he curled upwards and tugged her down in the same sweep. His lips met hers in a warm press, his tongue snaking out with the tip dragging along the full of her bottom lip. She didn't have to think before she was opening up for him, running her own tongue across his to get a taste. 

It was (Y/N)'s turn then to get a taste of his pleasure, a moan spilling from his throat and settling on her tongue. Her hand around his cock tightened, the grip snug and clinging. The longer he played with her, his hand tight on the back of her neck as if in fear she would pull away before he was ready, the seat of her panties grew that much more wet. Her toes curled in the bedding at his sides, her free hand pawing at his chest in the lone need to feel him. 

Drawing away just enough to speak, (Y/N)'s lips brushed against his own as she whispered, "I-I want to see you, Harry." 

"'M here, darling," he answered her simply before attempting to dive back in for more. 

"No," she practically pouted, puckering her lips for one more kiss before pleading again, "No, I want more—it's not fair if I'm the only one without my clothes on" 

She could feel him smile into her mouth, his hand offering an affectionate squeeze to the back of her neck before he pulled away. 

"When have I ever been fair, darling?" he prodded, giving her a raised brow as if he wasn't going to give into each and every single one of her demands. 

"You are with me," she countered with a cant to her head.

Something softened in his expression then, as if she didn't have her hand wrapped around his cock. "I suppose I am, aren't I?" 

Peeling his shirt off, the material becoming a black puddle on the bed behind her to reveal the tan skin and inked marks covering his musculature. 

(Y/N) had heard time and time again throughout her existence how demons could never be trusted, that they were a creation that an angel like her shouldn't taint themselves by even breathing next to. She had been told they were slimy skinned, rows of teeth stuffed in their mouths, with eyes that could pull you straight to hell if you looked into them long enough. 

Looking at Harry the way he was now beneath her, she could see why her ancestors would craft such tales; if she had known there were creatures out there that looked the way Harry did, she would have tried to find him the first time she floated from the clouds. 

She couldn't help the way her hands drifted up his chest. Her fingers skimmed over his chest, dancing over the butterfly inked on his stomach and he birds up high by his collarbones. There was a flight layer of goosebumps that rose in her wake. 

A breathy laugh that fell from his lips brought her attention back to the surface, pulling her gaze to flick up and match his. Amusement floated in his irises, a slight smile on his raspberry lips. 

"You're cute," he told her simply. 

"I'm not trying to be cute," she answered, a stubborn set to her jaw. 

That only seemed to amuse him more, a dimple now denting his cheek as his smile grew. "Right," he drawled, "As much as I love letting y'touch all over me, I don't think we have enough time left for y'to have too much fun." 

The reminder was enough to have her mouth fixing into a pout. That wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"Oh, yeah," she answered sullenly, stilling her hands on his shoulders with her body leant over his. 

"I know," he said, craning his neck to press a small kiss to the corner of her mouth in a lingerie draw, "Next time we're here, we'll spend all night together. I promise."

A dreamy sigh fanned from her lungs at the thought, her eyes falling closed. It'd been a while since they had been able to spend a whole night in the Pocket together—the last time had left her in love and flying wonky the next day. 

She could hear the smile in his voice when he pressed, "Sound good, darling?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, "I want that now." 

"I know y'do," he murmured, "You'll jus' have to settle for me fucking y'fast, then." 

He said it like it was a punishment, as if her heart wasn't in her throat with adrenaline when he flipped her over once more. She was flat on her back, wings cushioned against the mattress when he sunk in between her spread thighs once more. Now, she could feel the weight of the muscles she had grazed her hands over, the width of his form she had been grinding against. 

The movement had stolen her breath, leaving her chest heaving as he looked down at her. The intensity was back once more, keeping his irises dark as he glazed his eyes over each and every line of her body. He lingered on the line of her bra, surely pinpointing where her rattling heart was scheduled by her ribs. 

"What do y'need from me, darling?" Harry mumbled, the blunt of his nails grazing the soft skin of her stomach as he dragged his hands towards the waist of her panties. 

Speaking through her shudder, she shook her head, "No-Nothing—I want you." 

Harry looked entirely too smug, the curl on his lips one she recognized even as far back as the first time they met. Back then, she couldn't stand the sight—unsure of how a demon could be proud of anything they did. Now, it was one of her favorite things, knowing she had made him feel proud of himself (at least she liked to think of it that way). 

"Y'can have me, darling," he assured her, one of his hands dripping from the waist of her underwear and down between her legs, "But, are y'wet enough for me, or do y'need some help?" 

His thumb grazed her clit, her body jumping at the slight touch. She could feel her insides pulsing, grasping for something that wasn't there yet. 

"I-I don't need help," she stuttered, pushing her hips against his hand in impatience, "Harry, please. I don't want you to leave before we're done." 

A pinch appeared between his brows then as he hooked his fingers into the gusset of her underwear, pulling the material to the side. "I would never leave y'like that, you know that. I'll always take care of m'angel."

As if to prove his point, she watched as he fisted his cock and ran the head along her folds. The air had been seemingly sucked out of the room at that moment, leaving her with a shuddering breath leaving her lungs and eyes fighting to close. She could feel his heavy gaze watching her as he nudged his cock against her pulsing opening, a small tease before he pulled back to slide through her folds once more. 

"Y'sure you're ready for me?" he teased, drawing out his words for just a second longer of the torture. 

"Harry, please," she told him, sounding a bit pathetic to her own ears though there was no guilt in the act. "I need you." 

He loved it when she pleaded with him like that. On longer nights, he would have pressed for more, taken any and every bit of begging she could offer, but she was sure the time limit was in the back of his mind when he didn't continue teasing. 

With a fluid push of his hips, he sunk in between her hips. (Y/N)'s lips fell open at the stretch, a moan getting stuck in her throat to leave nothing more than a heavy puff of air falling from her mouth. Harry's gaze was concentrated on where they were connected, his length disappearing inside her. His hand stretching back her panties let go when he bottomed out, his base pressing into her budding clit. 

His chest was heaving when he finally looked up at her once more. She could see the boundary of his irises beginning to waver, the black bleeding into the sclera. He was losing control in the most thrilling sense, the idea causing her walls to pulse around his splitting length. 

"'S been too long, darling," he told her, voice a low rumble. 

"Uh-huh," she sounded, giving a pathetic nod of her head with her hands fisting the bedding at her sides. She wanted so badly to reach for him, feel his skin under her palms, but feared flying away if she let go before she had her head on straight. 

"Never gonna wait this long again, 'kay?" Rearing back his hips, he grunted when he pushed through her channel once more. 

A puff of air left (Y/N)'s lungs once his hips pressed against hers in a slap, as if he had knocked it right out of her. Settling his hands on the bones of her hips, his thumbs stretched up towards the curve of her waist in a gentle sweeping that opposed the strength of his grip. He held her steady as he curated a fluid pace, knocking the breath out of her each time he sank inside her. 

(Y/N)'s breathing came in puffs every time she felt his tip nudge deep inside her, her body being pushed further and further into the mattress. Without his hands on her body keeping her place, she would have hit her head on the headboard by now, she figured, the thought being one that would have made her laugh if not for the fact that she was in the middle of something. 

"You're so tight," he gritted out, his voice deep and rumbling through his chest, "Thought y'said y'were ready for me." 

"I am, I am," she rushed out, pausing when he gave her a particularly punishing thrust, "I-Its been too long, re-rememeber?" 

His hands squeezed her hips that much more at her words. "I know, darling. Gonna have to make this one last then. Can't stretch y'out every time we fuck, can we?" 

Mindlessly, she shook her head, willing to agree with any and everything he was saying at the moment. She wouldn't mind him taking the time to stretch her out every time he pulled her to bed, but now wasn't the time to get greedy—she already had his cock rearranging her organs, there wasn't much more she could pine for, was there?

Except for maybe touching him herself. 

Not wanting to distract him from his job, (Y/N) unfurled her fingers from the sheets at her sides, reaching towards the thick of his arms. Her fingernails sunk into the skin, leaving small moon shapes that would no doubt still be pink by the time he was having to slip out and meet his friend. She liked the idea, her fingers clenching that much more, that a part of her would remain with him even when they couldn't be together. 

Harry was seemingly spurred on by the touch, hips knocking into hers in heady strokes. She was going to have bruises tomorrow, but she didn't care. Her mouth dropped open, small uh's leaving her parted lips in time with every push of his hips. 

"Harry, I-I," she started, her voice catching in her throat before she could say much more. 

"'M right here, darling, 's alright," he attempted to soothe her though his voice was strained and breathy with every thrust he sunk inside her. 

Her mouth was dry by the time she found her voice again, her eyes fluttering to a close. "I—Can—I want to touch—" 

That was all she managed to get out before a bubbling moan fell from her lips when he dared to grind against her once bottoming out. Through her taut underwear, he pressed against her clit, her body jumping at the touch.

"But you are touching me," he drawled, bringing her back down as he pulled his hips back. 

She knew he was only trying to goad her, get her stubborn and petulant in the way that always made him laugh, but she didn't care. It was going to work, but she would leave her scolding for later. 

"You know what I mean, Harry" she argued, peeling her eyes open to find him looking at her with that smug smile as if he wasn't exerting all of his energy into stealing her breath away. "You're being so mean to me!" 

"I'm being mean to you?" he repeated, the rhythm of his hips slowing just a hair when he brought the intensity of his gaze to match hers. "You really think that right now, darling?" 

"Yes, I do," she whined, now upset by the fact he was slowing down and not letting her touch him. She wrapped her legs around his hips from where he was knelt between her thighs in hopes of spurring him on, feeling the ridge of his length pressing through. 

One of his hands on her hips slid up her body, skating over her tummy and between her breasts until he landed on her neck. His palm laid flat on her collarbones with his fingers wrapping around her throat, a slight pressure. His hips worked in shallow thrusts, barely pulling his length out before he was pushing in once more. 

"Are you sure?" he pressed, a slight pressure closing in on the side of her throat as he squeezed that much more, "If this isn't enough for you, I can show y'how mean I can really be." 

(Y/N) felt her eyes round out as she gazed up at him, her heart stuttering in her chest. Time seemingly stood still in that moment, every detail melting away to leave only Harry in focus. 

"Oh my god," she murmured, her voice squeaking through her throat.

A slow smile tugged up the corner of Harry's lips. "No god, darling. Jus' me." 

(Y/N) couldn't help but to buck her hips against his, urging him for more. She could feel her walls fluttering around him, her wings at her back struggling against the mattress with their own restless energy begging to fluff out. 

Harry kept his hand as an anchoring weight on her throat as he dropped back into the rhythm of his hips, tightening in pulsing squeezes just long enough to have her eyes rolling to the back of her head before lightening up once more. His own control—despite the facade he was offering to (Y/N)—began to waver that much more. His eyes were almost completely black, the inky veins snaking out to envelope the sclera with every punishing thrust. The moment (Y/N) was back on Earth, peeling her eyes open enough, she swore she saw glimpses of his glamor fading, revealing the large black wings shrouding his back. 

He was close, that much she was sure of. 

"A-are you going to cum?" she asked, voice rumbling under his hand.

Shaking his head, he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. "Not until you, darling. Angels first." 

"But, I can see your wings." 

His breathing came in pants. "I know, but you're still finishing first, darling." 

Taking his hand off her neck, the ghost of his warmth left behind, Harry wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her off the bed. Repositioning himself, he knelt on the mattress as he dragged her into his lap. His cock was snug inside her when she settled over his thighs, feeling just that much deeper with the new angle. 

Wasting no time, he had his hands stationed on her hips once more, setting a pace for her to bounce on his cock. 

"Think y'can fuck yourself like this, darling? Do all the hard work for me?" he murmured, dragging his lips over the same parts of her neck where he had choked her moments before.

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she answered, a mindless reflex as he concentrated on matching his grip. 

Using the leverage of her knees on either side of him, she lifted herself off his cock, allowing his head to stretch through her pulsing walls, before sitting herself back down in a smack of her skin against his. It was a relief to put her hands on him, feeling every inch she could reach. Her palms skimmed over the broad of his shoulders, planes of his back, and the thick of his arms all with her nails following closely behind.

Harry did much of the same, trailing up the curve of her spine until he found the base of her wings. (Y/N) couldn't help but to keen into his touch, back arching through it took everything in her to keep from getting distracted and keep riding him like he had asked. 

The first graze of his fingers over her feathers was enough to get her stomach tightening, and mouth dropping into a moan. She could feel him smiling against her neck, too proud over her reaction. 

"Always so cute, even when y'don't mean to be, you know that?" he murmured, dotting a kiss just below her ear, "All I've got to do is touch your feathers, and you're done for." 

She wanted to say something, tell him that it wasn't that easy, but there was nothing that would escape her lips other than puffs of heavy breath and whining moans.  

Rocking his hips up to meet hers, that much more pleasure settled in her stomach. As much as she wanted to argue with him that she wasn't that easy to make cum, there was some truth behind the fact that she was flying towards the finish line with every brush of his fingers and rock of his hips. 

"I can feel y'squeezing me, darling," he murmured, dragging his mouth over the line of her jaw in a lingering kiss, "Y'gonna cum for me? Did I finally work hard enough for you?" 

Despite the fact he'd asked her a question, there was no way he had been expecting an answer with the way he wiggled his fingertips through the brush of her feathers and coasted along the bony structure underneath. He knew she wouldn't be able to survive that, a long moan choking out from her throat with her stomach too tight to bear. 

(Y/N) tried to keep her pacing as best she could—something she couldn't believe Harry was able to do all the time—, but the rhythm was undoubtedly interrupted as she came around him. She could feel every inch of him as her insides pulsed around him, taking in the ridge of his head and the length that had split her open in the first place. His base was pressed heavily against her clit, rivaling the pressure of his fingers dancing through her feathers. 

She wanted to be present but the heavens called to her then, the Pocket left behind for a few lingering moments. By the time she was floating back down to Earth, Harry's hands settling on her hips as he lifted her off his cock, the sight before her was enough to get her back to square one, wishing they more time. 

Harry's eyes were now completely pitch black, no more white sclera or shatters of green to be seen. His glamour had faded away, leaving the leather stretch of his wings visible, the span much larger than her own as they fanned out around them. The webbing cocooned around them, creating a curtain around her body as if there wasn't enough of him touching her already. 

His cock shone in the low light between them, her slick coating him as he fisted the length. It only took a few passes of his hand before his cum blurted out in thick ropes across her stomach. 

"Fuck—(Y/N)—I—" Nothing of coherence fell from his lips then, every bit of concentration laid to rest as he watched himself cum on an angel. 

A furrow had his brows pinched together, his eyes hooded and dark. His mouth was stagnant in a gape once he stopped trying to speak. 

It wasn't until the remaining spurts of his cum rolled down his shaft and his ruddy head was seemingly beginning to stain purple that he pulled his shaky hands away. Using his wings as well as his hands, he hugged (Y/N) to his chest with his softening cock between them. Even with the mess that was beginning to dry on her stomach, he held her tight, pressing hard kisses to her temple and side of her face until he met her lips. 

"Y'okay?" he panted to her, the tip of his nose nudging against her own. 

"I'm okay," she murmured, wrapping her own arms around his neck. 

"Happy?" he asked, just the same as he always did in these quiet moments after the storm. 

A small smile stretched over her lips. "Happy." 

Gently laying her backwards, Harry kept himself glued to her, wings and all, as they settled among the sheets. Despite the fact he had no discernible pupil, she could feel his gaze traveling over her features and taking her in as he always did. She felt bashful under his eyes, her own wings shyly tucking into her back. 

"What is it, darling?" he asked, sweeping a few stray hairs from her face. 

"Nothing, just... You." 

"Just me?" he countered, reaching blindly for his discarded shirt he'd tossed earlier. 

"Just you," she repeated with a breathy laugh, allowing him to wipe his mess away with his shirt. (How he had the courage to clean her up with it knowing that he'd have to wear it out to meet his friend later, she wasn't sure). "How long can you stay?" 

Harry's features took on a somber set at her words, just the same as she felt. "Not long, darling. Jus' long enough to make sure y'get to sleep, then I'll have to leave." 

"What if I don't fall asleep?" 

The smile he gave her told her that he was very familiar with the game she was beginning to play with him. 

"Guess I'll have to stay." 

Despite the black eyes and leathery bat wings sprouting from his back, the sweet smile and boyish dimples in Harry's cheeks could rival that of any angel in (Y/N)'s opinion. 

That was why they worked, she thought as she snuggled closer to him: she brought out the angel in him and he showed her just how fun sinning could be.

—————

ahhhh I guess this is my little contribution to the valentines day vibe this year! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas send them in!! I also have more writing available on my patreon if you want more :)

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 24- Holding Back

yeah so... it's angel yn x demon h smut and it's filthy so here we goooo.

Fictober

Patreon

WARNINGS- demon h, angel Y/N, mean Dom h, dumbification, degradation, choking, hair pulling, etc. Just filth.

--------

Holding her hair in a ponytail, Harry’s hand drug her back to press her back against his sweaty chest. His hips continued to move, the slap of skin audible in the room, but Y/N was trying to keep it down. 

 “You’re holding back.” He hissed into her ear, the tingles of her hair being gripped and his lips so close making her body shiver. The demon was rough with her, just the way she’d found herself craving, one hand curling around her throat as she let out the most pathetic whimper she’d ever hear. “Who cares if anyone hears, hm? It’s what you need to do.”

His cock was deep in her, fucking into her sopping wet cunt, and he knew he was directly where she liked being fucked. “Poor little Angel. Still so afraid of letting people see even a bit of Dirt.” He cooed, slowing his thrusts and hitting deep, making her mouth fall open and a wheezy squeak leaving her lips. 

“I think that’s what it is. Y’walk around, like you’re this holy, sweet, innocent little thing. Perfect Angel, so soft spoken and touch so delicate. But when the door is closed.” He squeezed a bit harder with his fingers on her throat, making her gasp again. “The door is closed and you’re getting your holes fucked by the very creature you claim to hate. Sweet little Angel Y/N, God’s favorite… Is getting raw fucked by the demon who followed you home.” He snickered, loving that he had been her downfall. 

If Y/N wasn’t in the midst of pleasure, she would smack him hard. She would turn her nose up in the air, stomp her foot and leave. But she wasn’t there, she was being fucked by said man so well that her body was clay for him to model, her cunt wrapped around him and getting sparks of pleasure rendering her brain useless. “Hm? No retort from the pretty ice queen?” His tongue licked over her jaw, letting her breathe better for a moment as she shook her head. It was the right answer, because she was rewarded with her hair being released and sneaking down to rub at her throbbing clit. 

“Right answer, Angel girl. Got you so drunk on my cock that you’ve turned into a braindead little slut.” His voice got rougher, making her clench around him. He was soaked with her arousal, balls dripping with it, and he was enjoying every second of it. “Big and proper when we’re out there but the moment we’re alone you fall to the ground and mouth at my cock, get on those knees and open that pretty little mouth just so I can spit into it, fuck it… whatever I want because you’re just my little toy, yeah Angel?” He felt her try to nod, but that wasn’t enough.  “Use your words. Tell me you’re just my toy to fuck.” 

“I’m just… I’m your- I’m just your toy to f-fuck.” She shivered, her brain pleasantly floating as he fucked her. Y/N didn’t know sex could be as good as it was and surely she would pretend to hate depraved things such as this when she left the room- but something about the demon made her want to submit fully. Allowed herself to go blank, to take him the way he wanted her to. “Please,please,please, can I?” She pleaded, wanting so badly to cum. The stroke of his cock and his fingers rubbing over her clit and the nibbling of her jaw, it was the perfect storm. She was so close to letting go, so close to cumming all over his thick cock and then- 

He stopped. Fingers stilling on her clit, cock buried to the hilt and stopping, Y/N cried out in loss as he cooed at her. “None of that. You’re going to cum when I want you to, beautiful thing. If you’re going to turn your back on me out there, that’s fine. But I want you to remember being edged as many times as you can be. Roll your eyes at me saying hello next time and m’not going to let you come at all. You’ve got to be reminded what you are.” He kissed away a tear, pulling her to lay her head back on him. “A slut for a demon, a personal whore. You’ve signed up for this, you come knocking at my door to apologize… Give me this sweet body and a promise of being better next time… I think the only way to make a girl like you learn, is if I take away what you’re after.” Harry’s hand crawled up her belly, pressing over where he was sure he was buried, rocking back and forth into her to get some relief. 

“Because none of those angels can fuck you the way you want. You want flower petals and champagne and a slow rock of a fuck? Go on to them. But you won’t because underneath that angelic body, lays the prettiest, most willing to please slut that wants a pounding.” His chuckle made her shudder again, pressing his lips to her cheek. “As long as you remember you’re mine and show me a bit more respect? I can continue to make this happen. Do you understand me?” 

“Yes- yeah, I do Harry. I’m sorry.” She whined, cut off when his hand smacked over her breast.  As much as she tried, Harry was the one who shut her brain off. Let her focus on pleasure and give her a sweet pain to remember the next day, making her feel more alive than she had ever been. “I am yours, I promise.” 

“I know that.” He stated. “Get back down and turn around. Want to see you cry for my cum.”

[gurugirl]

Tales From the Modern Incubus Masterlist

Summary: Harry is almost as old as time and he's got a lot to say. But right now he's hunting for the perfect female to carry his heir (as he must do every century). When Harry meets you, a pastor's daughter, he finds himself strangely obsessed with you in every way but you’re a good girl and Harry is definitely not your usual type. Will the handsome demon corrupt sweet (y/n)?

TFMI Aesthetic

Character List

Tropes: demon incubus!harry, pregnancy, good vs evil, innocent!reader

Warnings: SMUT, angst, corruption of "innocence", unprotected sex, anal sex, demonic spells, religious mentions (a lot), manipulation, some non-consensual sexual acts, blasphemy, debauchery, dark humor, unsavory characters - 🛑 - THIS SERIES WILL BE A LITTLE DARK SO YOU MAY NOT ENJOY THIS TYPE OF CONTENT - ⛔️ Harry is a demon here and so there will be some touchy subjects - please don't read if you are sensitive to anything I've listed as a warning or don’t like making fun of Christianity or religion in general as Incubus!Harry makes fun of religion throughout the series ⚠️

Word Count So Far: 109k words

Read on Wattpad

Part 1*

Part 2

Part 3*

Part 4

Part 5*

Part 6*

Part 7*

Part 8*

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11*

Part 12*

Part 13*

Part 14*

Part 15*

Part 16

Part 17*

Part 18

Part 19*

Part 20* (updated March 23)

Like it? Buy me a ko-fi? 😘

My masterlist

[1800titz]

Okay, I wanted to write a TEENY bit amidst my frantic workload. Here we have just a crumb of that incubusrry idea. What do we think?

She’d fallen asleep. When had she fallen asleep?

The man at the foot of her bed is a shadow — face veiled by the angle of the dusk. His stature, though — broad, visibly — is enhanced by the traces of the sunset that streak through the window he eclipses. It builds him and cascades over his shape, and her eyes bound and imbibe in slivers. His waistline, his parted thighs, the crest of his shoulders, his arms, ominously at his sides. His head, tilted just a tad. 

Mila should be scared. She should be so scared to see this foreboding shadow of a masculine figure at the foot of her bed. Chills should thrive down her arms under the circumstances, terror should curl over the skin of her bones and manifest in a blood-curdling scream, expelled by her lungs. Pumping, pumping, pumping blood, her heart should be racing — Mila should be petrified. 

She isn’t. Instead, she finds ease in his presence. There’s an oddly ironic comfort to his company — a soothing sentiment that muzzles her racing thoughts and stifles what would typically be a hammering behind her ribcage. And when he speaks, his voice is a velvety croon that envelops her like a weighted blanket. He says her name. Two syllables that roll off his tongue with songlike cadence holding no tune. And it’s pleasant — his voice. Deep in inflection, a sweet melody to her half-awake eardrums, dreamy like a lewd fantasy in her REM cycle. It’s familiar, it’s the same voice she’s heard grazing against her ear, in the middle of the night, when he’s on top, his weight warm over her, when his hips rock against her own, when he stretches her with his cock. Mila, Mila, Mila, you’re so wet for me. When he slips his forearm between her back and the mattress, winding it and flipping their position with what seems like preternatural strength; Mila, Mila, Mila, bounce on my cock for me, baby. Just like that. And so she does — she follows the guide of his voice like a lifeline, lured by his song, siren-like. Lured by his touch, when he cocks his head up at her and squeezes her jaw in his colossal palm, the pads of his digits pressing into her cheeks. His hands are always a relief — they always carry a bit of a chill, they always soothe the feverish burnish of her own flesh (that a rendezvous with the man always seems to incite). That same jaw unhinges, an aimless mewl escaping when he grinds up and hits something extraordinary within her at a ridge, and he ogles her newly parted, strawberry mouth with eyes glazed by lust. He uses the opportunity to slide his thumb across and brush it against her tongue. 

“I know, baby, I know,” is what he tells her, his tone gentle like the soft touch squeezing over her love handle — he uses that to maneuver her hips, just gliding back and forth over him. It hits all the right spots. He hits all the right spots. He’s a dream. Literally. 

She’s dreaming, the young woman convinces herself — she’s dreaming about dreaming of him. He looms over her in hues of darkness that paint his muscles, and those muscles flex when moves to disrobe. Yes. Yes. Yes. 

“Mila,” she hears him beckon again. This one is sing-song-y and tailed by the subsequent sound of a belt buckle clinking. Leather yanked through linen loops. Her chest rolls on her breath. Yes, yes—

This is a dream. This is a very lucid dream, Mila thinks, but it feels very real when his touch cradles her bare ankle —the blanket’s been kicked off from her feet at some point or another. His cool touch presses over the joint, and his thumb swipes over the bone before the foot of the bed dips. He’s pasted a knee onto it, and Mila watches his form in motion, bathed in shadow.

“Gonna be a good girl and let me make you feel good tonight?”  

[fallingsolonely]

Heaven & Hell

Warning: This one-shot contains dark and sexual content.

[This is an edited version of a one-shot I wrote a few years ago, I hope you enjoy!]

Theme: Demon!Harry

Word count: 12.8k

~~~~

Earth. What a magnificent paradise. Created perfectly in my father's image.

I've been reading about it for years. I've been begging for almost a millennia to visit.

Aristol, my brother and also, in his words, my 'superior' has long refused. But I'm finally getting my chance.

I finally got my first assignment on Earth.

Aristol is furious about it, I know he's been going behind my back to Mariella and telling her that 'I'm just a child and can't handle a place like Earth, let alone go on this assignment'

He was adamant that it should be him.

1. I am not a child. I'm not much younger than Aristol as much as he likes to claim.

2. I have proven myself, I've done all my studies and I have trained for this my entire life.

As stunning as Earth is, I am well aware of the way it has been corrupted.

But where there is a storm, a rainbow is not far behind.

I've been on Earth for almost two weeks now. Europe. I've only seen maps, to be here is surreal.

To see how my father's creation has grown into what it is, it's amazing.

Humans are fascinating to me.

I'm not meant to interact much, but I can't help it.

Especially my assignment. A beautiful little boy by the name of Isaac.

A prophecy that came to the angels attention exactly 12 years ago, the day he was born.

I like to look at Mariella as a mother figure. She believes in me, pushes me to be strong.

Shes our link, almost like what humans would call a telephone.

She speaks directly with our father and 12 years ago, we received a message about a little boy with astounding power.

For the first 11 years of his life, he would be protected from the most awful parts of the world and the creatures who surround it. But, when he reaches 12, his presence would officially take hold and all creatures would become aware of him.

Which is incredibly dangerous.

That's where I come in. Angels have been preparing for this little boys 12th birthday for a long time and we have put as much protection on him as we can.

I've been assigned to watch over him.

I was strictly told not to interact with him. Just watch.

On my first day of observing him, he knew it.

He touched my hand and the first thing he asked me was if I wanted to get icecream with him.

It's almost like he knew. Treating me like he's known me his whole life.

I've never tried food of any kind before, but it's amazing.

Icecream, it's sweet and cold and comes in so many different flavors I feel dizzy when I have to choose.

For the last two weeks I've been meeting Isaac at the Icecream truck in the park near his house.

Power radiated off of this little boy and he seemed to have no clue about it. But I can see it in the way he talks, he's smart. He's intuitive and extremely wise for only being alive for a mere 12 years.

After trying icecream, I went and tried all the food I could. It's so amazing to me the things humans have created. I think my favourite is coffee.

It makes my body tingle in the strangest way.

So now, every day before I meet up with Isaac, I stop in this quiet little coffee shop.

I love watching them go about their day, humans.

I'm so grateful to the lady named Eileen who makes me a different kind of coffee every time I come in.

She's so sweet.

I don't understand Aristol's hatred towards them. The way he talks about them, like every single human is corrupt.

But it's not true. Not in the slightest.

Life, is beautiful.

"You're practically one of them" I jump slightly, looking up from the paper I am reading.

Aristol.

"I told Mariella you were to young and stupid for this assignment" He shakes his head, looking me up and down.

"You better start acting like an angel before someone snuffs you out"

Hes bitter about being pushed to the side.

"I think I blend in better like this" I smile at my brother and sip my coffee.

"I've been doing well, watching over Isaac. He's safe" He looks at me with disgust as I drink the coffee.

"We'll see"

With that, he's gone.

How Aristol doesn't see the beauty of our fathers world, is crazy to me. It's beyond incredible.

I walk along the path towards the park and to my surprise, I see Isaac.

I only see the back of his head, but he's sitting next to someone.

Hastily, I make my way over to them.

"(Y/N)!" Isaac smiles widely when I come up to them. Next to him is an unfamiliar man in a black suit.

"I made another friend" He's so happy about it. Smiling ear to ear with an icecream in his hand.

"Isaac, you should be more careful" I say it softly to him, but I can feel myself becoming more protective.

"Don't worry, pretty thing, I'm not going to hurt him"

I watch as Isaac goes to touch the man's hand, but before he can, the mystery man stands to his feet.

Already, the energy feels strange.

He stands tall, looking over me.

"Just keeping him company" The man smiles at me, scanning me with bright green eyes. In his hand, he has an icecream. As he looks over me, I watch as he licks the vanilla flavored cone.

"Enjoying this sweet little dessert" His smile turns into a smirk.

"He found me like you, (YN)" Isaac says, still smiling. Excited to be making friends.

"(Y/N), what a beautifully angelic name" He turns away from me and looks down at Isaac.

"I'll be seeing you soon, young man" He bends down to Isaac's height and smiles.

Then, he stands back up and looks at me while licking his cone. He stares me down for a moment before turning and walking away.

I can't help but feel weary as I watch him leave.

I turn to Isaac and then kneel in front of him.

I place my hand on his cheek and smile.

"I need you to be careful, Isaac" I say seriously.

"I don't want anything bad happening to you, you're special" He hugs me tightly.

"I'm sorry if I worried you, (Y/N). I'll be careful" I hug him tighter and then pull back.

"Whenever you meet someone who wants to be friends with you, I want you to touch their hand" I take his hand and hold it tightly. I know he can feel my energy through touch.

It's an ability he's unaware of even possessing.

"Okay" He agrees, holding one of my hands with both of his.

_______

I'm still worried.

The appearance of the strange man is still haunting me. Something about him isn't right. Luckily, Isaac's house is a safe haven. Enchanted by sigils meant for protection. Not even Angels can enter through it.

But to be sure, I don't stray far from his home.

The sun has set and the city is quiet.

Sleep, a source of energy humans need. I don't quite understand it, but Isaac loves to tell me about it. About the dreams he has.

Visions of someone protecting him.

Visions of shadows that he calls nightmares.

I don't like hearing about those ones, I'd do anything to make them go away.

Emotions are something all creatures feel, including angels. It's something we have to learn to control, I'm still in the learning bit.

Aristol tried to use it as an excuse for why I was unfit for this position.

At the moment, fear is swirling through me. I've never encountered the creatures that were rumored to roam the Earth.

But as I make my way around Isaac's neighbourhood, I can feel the piercing sting of someone's eyes. Like I'm being followed.

Isaac's house is on the other street, I should find a place closer to settle for the night.

Usually, I'll explore in the hours of darkness. But tonight, I'm scared.

I peak down an alley. A shortcut.

My instinct is to teleport but I don't want unwanted attention and I can already feel eyes on me.

I step into the alley. It's not super long, thankfully and in the darkness of it I feel a little safer teleporting.

I go to close my eyes, to bring myself to Isaac's street but before I get the chance, a hand clamps down over my mouth.

"Make a sound, I clip those pretty wings"

The voice whispers in my ear.

"You try anything, that precious boy is good as dead" He warned.

My first thought is to tear him away with whatever power I can, but then he mentions Isaac.

An innocent little boy.

I stop struggling against his hold on me and suddenly everything is black.

He pulled something over my head, blinding me from seeing who he is and where he takes me.

Instantly I know he's not a creature of Earth when we teleport. Not long after, I'm pushed into a chair and cuffs are tied around my wrists against the arms of the chair.

"If you're a good girl for me, perhaps I'll takes these off. Just a little precaution for my sake" He whispers, pulling away the fabric that he had put over my head.

I open my eyes and I'm met with green.

The same green eyes I had met with Isaac in the park.

Instinct takes over me and I try to get myself loose.

But my power is gone. I look down at the straps on my wrist. Each one scribed with a dark power binding sigil.

I'm trapped.

When he chuckles, I look up at him.

"No use trying with those on, love" He smiles at me.

"W-What are you doing?" I can't help it. I'm terrified.

"A little birdie told me an angel was coming to town" I look over him, he's dressed in all black, all the way down to his shoes.

"Expected more of a fight from you, angel. Never seen one give up on a fight so easily" He kneels down in front of me, our eyes level.

In a flash, I watch as each little vein in his eyes grow dark until they are black.

A demon.

Children of my fallen brother, Lucifer.

I've never met one. I never wanted to meet one. They were soulless and wicked.

"Is this your first time meeting a demon, sweetheart?" He stands up to his feet, smoothing out the suit jacket he's wearing.

The smile on his face is sickening.

"What do you want?" I want to be confident, stand my ground but my voice is quiet.

I'm so afraid.

I don't know what to do. I'm stuck.

"I'd love nothing more than to suck the sweet little soul out of your body" His smile is unwavering, his thumb running over his bottom lip as he stares at me.

"I can only imagine how it tastes-" He leans over me, biting his lip.

"So tempting, I can practically smell it" I try to push myself away from him, his hand coming up to my cheek.

His fingers are warm, burning my skin but I shiver at the feeling.

He leans down closer to me, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

"Sweet like icecream" When his eyes open again, I watch the black recede. They are green again.

"Look at you, so afraid of me. It's intoxicating" His fingers trace my jaw and then he steps away.

"So fragile" He chuckles some more.

"I'm sorry, darling. It's just amusing to me that out of all the assholes they could have sent, they sent down....you" He laughs even more.

"Sounds like a set up to me, darling. Do you really think you can protect something that everyone is looking for?" He's smiling, mocking me.

It makes me angry. I'm not weak.

I struggle against the restraints, but nothing. Not even a sliver of power.

"We know he's hidden in the area you were lurking" He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a blade. He looks it over and then back at me.

"We want the same thing, angel" His smirk makes my stomach turn.

"To see that little boy take on the world. Or more favorably, take out the world" He takes a step towards me again, twirling the blade in his hand.

"You just have to tell me his exact location" I close my eyes tightly when he begins to point the blade towards me.

"I'd hate to ruin this beautiful face" I take a deep breath when I feel the tip of the blade on my cheek.

Delicately, he moves it over my skin.

He pulls it back and I open my eyes. It's still pointed at me.

I look up at him.

"Please..." I can't do this. I can't tell him where Isaac is. I'd die to protect him.

"Please" He mocks me, rolling his eyes.

"So many things I want to do with this" He smirks and looks at the blade.

"Perhaps in another meeting, angel girl" He brings the knife down and cuts the straps binding my wrists.

"I know you aren't going to try anything, so obedient" He hums and brings his free hand up to my face. Before he can touch me, I think about breaking his hand and it does.

My power is back.

His face twists in pain for just a second before he snaps it back into place.

He glares at me, his eyes black again. He grabs me roughly, pulling me out of the chair and then grabbing my throat.

In an instant, I'm shoved against the wall.

"Try that again, I dare you" He squeezes so hard I struggle to breathe.

I want to kill him. But I can't. It will just put Isaac into more danger.

"Killing you would bring me so much joy, but no answers" He loosens his grip but his hand is still locked around my throat.

"So how about this, if you don't tell me where he is, I kill everyone on the entire block instead?" I glance around the dimly lit room. It's small. The only thing in it is the chair I was strapped to.

"Why do you want him?" You know the answer already. He's powerful.

Power is the only thing these creatures care about.

"To many questions, darling and not enough answers" I can see him getting frustrated.

"What's your name?" I reach out my hand to touch him and when I do, he drops his hand from my throat and backs away from me. He's visibly angry. The knife in his other hand is clenched in his fist.

"Tell me where he is or when I find him, I'll cut his heart out" He snapped, raising the blade at me again.

"Please, don't hurt him. I'll do anything. Just please, don't kill him" I'm desperate, I beg with the soulless man and look into his darkened eyes.

"Kill me instead, don't hurt him" His demeanor changes just slightly.

"Every angel I've met, I've never met one like you" His knife is still pointed at me, but his voice is calmer.

"So, emotional" He steps towards me again.

"My guess, you don't even know what the child is" He comes so close to me, I hold my breath.

He brings the blade up again, pushing my hair away from my face. He smiles a bit and then takes the knife away, putting it back into his jacket.

"But maybe we could think of something" He leans in even closer to me, bringing his lips to my ear.

"You'll do anything?" He pulls back to look at me, his eyes now back to green. He bites his lip.

I nod quickly, completely unaware of what's going on in his mind.

I will die to protect Isaac and if death is my fate, I will accept it.

"What is this little angel willing to give up?" He wonders, his hand coming up to my face. His finger running along my bottom lip.

I want to bite it right off, but I know it won't end well so I refrain.

"Anything, just promise me you won't hurt him"

I go to reach out to him but he grabs both my wrists and pins them against the wall.

"Sorry, angel. Demons don't make promises" He leans close to my face.

"You're just going to have to trust me, can you do that, baby?"

I know I can't. I can't trust something like him.

Hes vile and nothing good will come out of trusting him.

But what choice do I have here?

I look at him and then nod a little bit, his smirk becoming more wicked.

"What a good girl" He placed his hand on my cheek and stroked it gently.

It burns my skin like his fingers are laced with poison. But the rings on his fingers send shivers up my spine.

"Tell me, honey, just how innocent are you?" His voice is quiet and menacing.

I didn't know what he meant.

"Never got this pretty white dress dirty before?" I look at him, confused. It seemed to edge him on even more. Like he enjoyed it.

I shake my head at his question, why would I get myself all dirty?

Heaven is clean, pristine.

I miss it. Heaven is safe and pure.

"Angels, all work and no play" He leans in so close, his cheek is almost touching mine. His lips are by my ear.

"What do you do for fun, darling?" His breath is warm and I can almost feel the stubble from his face.

"I-I don't know"

Hes so close to me I feel like I'm suffocating. His scent is overwhelming.

"Would you like to know what I do?" He takes a breath, his lips touching my skin for just a split second before he steps back from me.

The blade he had put away, he takes out again.

I can't begin to imagine what a demon would do for fun.

I don't want to know.

"It depends on how I'm feeling that day, honestly"

This is it. He's going to kill me.

"Carving is fun" He brings the dull part of the blade to my cheek and out lines my jaw.

"I would have so much fun carving you-" He licks his lip.

"But that's not the fun I'm in the mood for tonight" He continues to trail the blade down my neck. I watch him.

"Call me crazy, angel. But I like you. So different from your waste of space siblings" He knicks my flesh with the blade, making me wince.

It only takes a moment before the wound heals it self.

"It just brings me so much pleasure seeing the fear in your eyes" He glances up at me.

Finally, he pulls the knife away. He puts it back into his jacket.

"Would you like to have some fun with me, baby? I'd say it's the better option"

I look away from him, still not knowing what he wants from me. What could he possibly want to do with me?

"W-What do you want to do?" I stutter on my words, avoiding his stare.

"Been with many things in my lifetime, never an angel" He smiles. But I'm still so confused.

I can't figure it out. I don't know if I want to.

"So clueless" He laughs and grabs my chin, making me look at him.

"So innocent, it makes me sick" He looks right into my eyes, holding onto my face tightly.

"Kind of hot" He glances down, looking at my lips and then back up to my eyes.

"Please, just tell me what you want" I plead with him. I'm done with his twisted games, I feel like I'm going crazy.

I have no idea what is happening.

"I want you, pretty angel. I want to taste these sweet looking lips" His thumb outlines my mouth.

"I bet they taste just as good as your soul would" He licks his lip again.

I go through the library of books in my mind, suddenly putting together what he desires.

"Copulation?" I look at him, not any less confused.

But fear rises in my stomach.

Copulation is apart of the human experience on Earth, meant for procreation. Angels can't procreate.

Even in my human form, procreating is impossible.

I've read about it, I've studied everything about the human species. I know pleasure is something humans crave and Copulation is supposed to be a joyful experience.

I know it is, it brings new life. It's amazing.

But angels are forbidden from participating in such an act. It wasn't meant for us, it's not something we crave.

I've never even thought about something like that.

For angels, it's immoral.

"So technical" He chuckles quietly.

"Have you ever felt pleasure, my darling angel?" He asks, his fingers replace the blade. They trace my skin and take the same route down along my jaw.

I can't even think about it.

There's whispers of angels who have strayed, they were never seen again.

I quickly shake my head.

"I can't. It's not meant for us" I whisper, looking at him.

"You're missing out, pretty thing" He looks at me for a moment and then backs away from me.

"Pleasure is not a sin. Why would your stupid father create something only to pick and choose who gets to enjoy themselves?" He runs his hand through his hair and smiles at me.

"W-Why do you want to do that with me?"

I look him over, he's tall. Intimidating.

"So perfect, I want ruin you" He bites his lip and stares me down.

I'd die to protect Isaac. I'd do anything.

"You won't hurt Isaac?" I ask, meeting his stare that I had tried avoiding.

He smirks.

Fear completely sinks in. If I were to be caught doing something like this, especially with a demon, I'd loose my wings.

"I just want to make you feel good, there's nothing sinful about that" His green eyes are sparkling as he looks at me.

"Why? Why haven't you just killed me?"

It's so unclear, it would be much easier for him to just get rid of me.

"Most angels I come across, usually do have that fate. Hate those arrogant fuckers" He shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

"But you, my darling, are different. Sweet little thing, innocent" He came towards me, sliding his hands up my arms.

"They all act so pure, but you should know darling, that some of your siblings are just as bad as us" He blinked, his eyes appearing black again. He brings a hand to my throat.

I take a deep breath, looking at him.

"Hm, but not you, princess" He pulls me closer, his grip getting tighter.

"You truly don't want to hurt anyone. It must be awful-" He laughs.

"Hurting people is so much fun" He squeezes hard and then let's go of me.

"So, untouched. Just the thought of putting my cock in you drives me crazy"

His words make me flinch.

Being on Earth, I've heard some of the language they use. Some words, are extremely inappropriate.

"But, I am not the type to force pleasure onto someone. I don't need to, creatures of all kinds love to throw themselves at me. I'm like, God to them" I get angry, disgusted with way he threw around my father's name.

I try to hide it, knowing he's trying to get a reaction out of me.

"What do you say, my angel? Do you want to experience pleasure you've never dreamed of?" He asks, his smile wide.

"What's your name?" I ask, my voice soft.

I vowed to die for Isaac. I will protect him no matter the cost.

"Why does it matter?" He crosses his arms.

Hes right. I don't want to hurt anyone, or anything. Not even the darkest ones. I just want to help and protect.

Most demons, were once human. If I could find that part of him, maybe this will be easier.

"Please?" I whisper, reaching up to place my hand on his cheek. His jaw clenches and he shoves my hand away from him.

"It's only fair, you know mine" I say quietly, looking up at him.

His eyes are far from innocent.

"Harry" He looks at me, his hardened state softening slightly.

"Harry..." I repeat his name under my breath. Looking down at my feet.

I wonder if that it's the name he had before he became lost.

"Isaac will be safe?" I look back up at him, his eyes now green again. I prefer the green so much more. It makes him look human.

"Perhaps" He nods just a bit.

But, he won't confirm it. He won't promise me.

Trust is the only thing I can do.

How do I trust a demon?

"You won't hurt me?" I look at my hands, they are shaking a little.

I've never even thought of doing something like this.

"So many things I want to do to you pretty girl, hurting you is not one of them. At least, for the moment. I've got other plans for you" He grabs my face and makes me look at him.

"Can't lie to you, angel. Killing you and bringing your pure little soul to hell is a dream I will be having later" He strokes my cheek.

"Maybe another day" His smirk is sinful. My breathing picks up, thinking about it. Going to hell.

"If you'd rather leave, there's the door" He backs away from me again. Giving me space.

I glance at the door. I think about teleporting away but I think of Isaac.

My mind races when I feel a pit in my stomach. Not of fear, but curiosity.

What is it about pleasure that everyone seems to desire?

"Reading people is a talent of mine, darling. I can see those pretty eyes swimming. Is this little angel feeling a sense of curiosity?"

I want to say no to him. But I can't because he's right.

My stomach turns.

I shake my head, trying to push away the feeling.

"I'm doing this to protect Isaac" I whisper, more to myself than him.

I hate it, I hate the feeling inside of me. I don't want to be curious about anything.

Never once, in my millenia have I thought about unnatural desires.

"Isn't lying a sin?" He's mocking me, I can see it.

Nothing has happened and already I feel disgraced as an angel. Thoughts I shouldn't be having are creeping into my mind and I don't know what to do.

"I-I'm not lying" I try to stand my ground, but my brain is crumbling. In his eyes, I can see the joy. I see how much he loves watching me have a moral crisis.

"Can you feel it, angel? The heat starting to burn between those cute little thighs?" He wonders, his hand sliding into my hair and pulling my face close to his.

At the mention of it, I instinctively tighten my legs together. I don't know what it is, this feeling. I don't want to feel it but I can't help it.

With each inch that he moves closer, it burns even more.

"Come on, I have a place a little more comfortable" He brushes my lips with his own, and my stomach flutters.

"Although, bending you over that chair and fucking your brains out would be very fun"

My whole body burns at his incredibly dirty words.

He smiles and grabs my hand.

In a flash, we appear in a bigger room. Against the wall is a cleanly made bed.

"Where are we?" I ask, looking around the room. The window is boarded up, preventing me from looking outside.

"Don't worry about it, darling" He says, a devilish smirk on his face.

He reaches next to my head, flicking the light on.

I try not think about the fact we could be in someone's house, what may have happened to them.

"You're so tiny" He chuckles and pushes me against the wall.

"So fucking pretty" His fingers run along my face, stopping at my lips for a brief moment before he continues down my neck.

I'm nervous, my knees feeling weak.

I'm about to throw away every rule an angel has.

But my stomach tingles when I think about his lips brushing mine.

Desire fills my consciousness and I'm scared.

I want him to do it again.

"Nervous?" He asked, pushing some of my hair behind my ear and then cupping my cheek.

He leans in, lightly pressing his lips to mine again.

The sensation of it makes me want to pull him closer.

I pull back from him, looking into his eyes.

I have no idea what I'm doing.

"I-I don't know what to do" I whisper, shyly glancing at his lips and then back at him. He smiles.

"How about-" He's so close to me, I'm getting dizzy.

"You kiss me, pretty girl?"

Our lips were almost touching. I've never been this close to someone in my entire life time.

Hesitantly, I copy him and place a hand on his cheek. Hoping he doesn't push me away again.

I look at his lips and then his eyes. I lean up towards him and close the small gap between our lips.

It lights my body up in a way I can't describe. I still haven't got a clue to what I'm doing but I try to follow his lead. I move my lips with his and I wonder if what I'm feeling is pleasure.

It doesn't feel bad. It doesn't hurt. It just makes me weak.

His hand moves slowly down my body until he reaches my thigh. He lifts it up against his hip, pulling me off the ground.

"Lift your other leg for me, baby" He mumbles and I listen to him, lifting up my other leg.

Roughly, he pushes his mouth against mine. One of his hands is holding my leg and the other slides to the back of my neck.

I find myself wrapping my hands around his neck, pulling him closer to me. The taste of him sweeter than anything I've ever tried.

He pushes his tongue into my mouth, his grip on me getting tighter with every moment.

I can't do anything about it, but an unfamiliar sound vibrates through me.

His tongue is even sweeter than his lips and I hate it. I hate how good it feels.

I can't understand why I'm feeling like this, how can something so dark make me feel so alive?

My body betrays my mind, it's craving. Desired to be touched, to soothe the ache between my legs.

My toes curl when he slides his hand under the fabric of my dress, pushing it up higher than it already is.

"I bet that cunt tastes like heaven" He pulled his lips back from me, and all I want to do is bring him back. He kisses down my neck, his prickly stubble tickling my skin.

I can't help but giggle at the feeling of it.

He pulls back to look at me.

"What are you giggling about?" He has an amused expression on his face.

My face heats up and I look away from him.

I still don't know what I'm doing.

"It tickles" I whisper and he smiles a little bit.

"Does it feel good?" He leaned back in towards my neck, kissing along my skin.

I don't want to admit it to him. I don't want him to think he's winning, but he is.

It feels amazing.

"Y-Yes" I breathe deeply, leaning my head back against the wall.

His lips continue to kiss on my skin, his other hand drawing circles on my thigh.

"Such soft skin, angel. So clean and perfect" He breathes slowly, it travels down my spine and makes me shiver.

I gasp, his teeth sinking hard into my skin. It stings but something about it makes me ache even more.

"Oh...." I grab his shoulders. My body weakening even more when he begins to suck. I bite my lip, stopping myself from letting out another noise.

It's embarrassing, the things my body is doing in response to this. I don't know how to stop it.

I don't know if I want it to stop.

"It's quite annoying that I can't leave any marks on this stunning body"

I smile a bit at that, a mini victory. It's funny that's he annoyed by how fast my body regenerates.

"You think it's funny?" I open my eyes when his teeth sink into my bottom lip.

He growls, definitely annoyed.

He leans back from me slightly and with his hand that was in my hair, he brings it to his jacket.

I think for a second that he's grabbing the blade again, but instead he pulls out a bottle.

Instantly I smell it, grimacing slightly.

Holy oil.

But there's nothing holy about it. It's a weapon used against angels. It's one of the only things that can burn our skin.

It's not permanent, but it takes much longer to heal from it.

"I wonder what would happen if I put some of this on my lips?" My eyes widen at his suggestion and he smirks.

"I like to leave my mark, darling. Have to make you remember me somehow" I watch as he opens the flask and brings it to his mouth, coating his lips and tongue. He shoves the flask back into his jacket and leans towards me.

I try to lean back from him but the wall stops me.

Just barely his lips brush over my jaw, the oil stinging my skin. I run my hands into his hair and grip it tightly, trying to pull him back.

"Harry!" I cry out when his teeth clamp down on my neck again.

This time, it burns.

The oil coating his mouth burns my flesh and I yank on his hair, trying to pull him back.

It's so unfamiliar, holy oil burns. It hurts, it's not pleasant.

But I feel pleasure and I can't comprehend how he makes it feel like this.

"Hm, that's better" He whispers in my ear, his lips coming back to mine.

Most of the oil had dissipated from his mouth, but there was a trace left.

I can feel the little needles of it against my lips.

But when he kisses me, I kiss him back eagerly. Ignoring the slight burn of it. He still tastes so good.

I'm horrified by the pleasure in my body.

I shouldn't have enjoyed it, but the feeling of his lips mixed with the burning did something to me that I can't explain.

"Would love to leave some marks all over this body, baby" He leans back into my neck, his tongue licking over the burn he created.

I fight against the sound that bubbles in my throat, still in disbelief that my body is twisting in pleasure.

My legs tighten against him, I desperately wanted to close them.

There was an ache, pulsing between my legs that I can't control. His hand that rested on my thigh made it even worse. He pushes my dress up higher and his hand comes down to my other thigh. His eyes still locked on me.

"You can't hide your desire from me, (Y/N). Those pretty little moans tell me exactly what you're feeling" He brushes my lips, his hands moving towards my inner thighs.

My breathing picks up and I look down at his hands.

My dress is pushed as far as it can go, and I know he can see my under garments.

It makes my face warm up, because he can feel the heat that's coming from them.

"Maybe I'll leave some marks on these thighs" He squeezes his hands, his lips kissing down my throat and towards my collarbone.

This time, I'm unable to keep the sound from coming out.

It's the thought of what it might feel like, his lips between my thighs coated in oil. It stings, but he makes it feel so good.

I don't know why I enjoy it. I can't even begin to think about how I'm enjoying any of this.

"You like that sound of that, baby?" He pulls back and smirks.

I shake my head, I don't want to admit it.

"Remember, angel, lying is a sin" He chuckled and moved his hands higher on the inner parts of my legs.

"You don't see me lying to you" He grabs my face with one of his hands.

"I'm going to bring you over to that bed and fuck that sweet little innocence out of you" He forces me to look at him while he says it. I bring my hands to my face, hiding from him.

I couldn't help but think about it, trying to imagine what it would possibly feel like.

"Now tell me, sweetheart, do you want me to touch you?" He rubs my thigh gently and smiles at me.

"Soothe the ache I know you're feeling" He chuckles a little bit, but I'm still covering my face. It's so warm, I feel embarrassed.

"Trying so hard to hide it from me.." He grabs my wrists and pulls them away from my face.

"Am I right, angel?"

I can't explain the emotions he's making me feel. I feel weak at how easily he sucked me into temptation but I wanted more of him.

Angels are strong, but how can I even call myself that?

I didn't put up a fight. I gave into him so quickly.

I am weak.

I pull my hands from his and bring them to his face. His skin is warm, despite his nature.

I haven't gotten the chance to really look him over. I bring my thumb to his lips, copying what he had done to me. I trace his lips, my eyes trained on them.

I can feel his stare, watching me intently.

I don't say anything to him, my voice is caught in my throat. Instead, I gently pull him to my lips. For just a moment, it's almost soft.

But quickly, he pushes his tongue into my mouth but I don't mind. It tastes sweet, like a candy.

"My little angel, you might want to ask your father to look away because I'm about to do some very bad things to you" He whispers against my lips.

He pulls us both away from the wall and grabs my hips, planting my feet back on the ground.

"So, modest" He hums and looks me up and down. I look down at what I'm wearing. A simple white dress that reached my knees. I think it's pretty. I've always loved white.

He tightens his grip on my waist and backs up until his legs reach the end of the bed. He sits on the edge of it, making us eye level to eachother.

"How about we take this off?" He slides his hands from waist up to the back of my dress.

I bite my lip, nodding at him a little.

Angels, when on earth, have a human form. It helps us blend in. It also helps us understand humans more. We don't have to worry about trivial things like sleeping, or going to the bathroom but our bodies function pretty similarly. Of course, Angels human form is much stronger than a regular human.

Harry's eyes don't leave me for a second. Hardly blinking as he pulls the zipper of my dress all the way down.

I take a deep breath. Becoming more nervous.

I've never been undressed in my life.

He slips his hand under the fabric and runs his hand up my back.

Hes so warm.

He pulls on the fabric until it falls to my ankles and suddenly I'm bare. The only thing covering me is my white under garment.

I quickly cover my chest, scared.

Hes not rough about it, but he grabs my arms and pulls them away, putting them at my sides.

"Don't be shy with me, angel. I think your body is delicious" He spreads his legs and pulls me between them. He brings his hands to the back of thighs and rubs them gently.

"So perfectly made" He bites his lip, his hands sliding higher.

I gasp when he slaps me and he laughs, his hands squeezing my behind.

"Something tells me you'd love to be bent over and whipped. I know I'd love to" He squeezes harder and I wish I could find an explanation for why it makes my body tingle so much. Not just his touch, but his words are making the heat between my legs burn.

He leans forward, his lips connecting to my skin just above my breasts. I run my hands up into his hair, lightly pulling at it.

"Been with many in my lifetime, none compare to you, angel" He squeezes the back of my thighs.

"Softest skin I've ever had the pleasure of touching" He continues with his lips on my skin, lightly biting down.

"I can only fucking imagine what it's going to feel like burying my cock in you" My legs stiffen at his words, trying to stop myself from feeling whatever it is that's raging through my stomach.

"You like it when I talk dirty to you, baby?" He pulls back and smirks at me.

"I-" I stumble on my words, trying to convince him that I don't. But my body doesn't agree. Every word, every touch makes me ache for more.

His smirk gets more wicked at my lack of words.

With a quick movement, he lifts one of my legs up onto the bed next to him, I grab his shoulders to keep myself from falling.

This position makes me feel much more vulnerable to him.

"Do you even notice how soaked you are, angel?" He laughs to himself, running his hand up my ankle until he reaches my knee.

He slows down a bit, tip toeing his fingers along my inner thigh.

He brings just the tip of his finger between my legs, pressing against where I had been dying for him touch.

"Can't wait to taste this perfect little cunt"

Just the small amount of pressure makes me buckle and I feel like I'm going to fall over. I go to pull my foot off the bed but he grabs my ankle and stops me.

"Nuh uh, honey. You're keeping your leg up for me" He warned.

"Or, I can tie you down onto the bed and have some fun with this" He pats the pocket of his jacket, referring to the oil.

My grip tightens on him.

He's hardly touched me and my body feels overwhelmed.

There's so many unfamiliar feelings swirling through me.

"Harry" I whine his name, looking at him and his sinful smirk.

"I don't play games, sweetheart. You listen to me, or you suffer the consequences" He slides his hand back up my leg, his fingers returning between my thighs.

"So sensitive, angel" He does it again, gently running his finger along me.

Instead of just once, he goes back and forth.

My leg wobbles and I try very hard to keep myself from ripping away from him.

It feels so good, I don't know how to handle it.

"Just wait until it's my tongue playing with this cute little clit" He pushes down harder and it takes all my strength to keep from falling over.

"Bet I could make you come without even taking these off"

I don't like the noises my body is making but I can't help it, I don't know how else to respond to how he's making me feel.

"Noisy little thing" He chuckles and pulls his hand away, pushing my foot off the bed and letting me plant it on the ground.

"Hm, can't get over these pretty legs" He traces his finger tips up and down the back of my thighs.

He brings his hands to my hips and hooks his fingers into my underwear.

He glances to my eyes and then begins to pull them down until they fall to my ankles.

I'm completely exposed to him now. I get nervous and close my legs tightly, trying to hide myself from him.

He stands up off the bed, suddenly much more intimidating.

"So, shy" He brings his hand to my cheek and strokes it for a moment.

"Be a good girl for me-" He taps my nose.

"Lay on the bed" He steps to the side and crosses his arms, watching me.

I listen to him and get onto the bed, laying my head on the pillows. He's still fully clothed, it feels unfair.

He stares at me for a moment before following my path and climbing onto the bed.

"Spread your legs, baby"

At the moment, they are closed tightly.

I look up at the ceiling, away from his intense eyes.

Slowly, I open them. I take a deep breath and shiver when I feel his hands on my legs.

"Such a delightful sight, angel"

I get the courage to look down at him, he's on his knees between my calfs. His hands delicately tracing my skin.

"I bet this sweet looking pussy is begging to played with" His touch is so, gentle. It's making me want more.

I can't even begin to imagine what his tongue would feel like between my legs.

I feel dirty just thinking about it.

I watch him lay down, lifting my thighs onto his shoulders.

I feel so vulnerable. I'm so nervous but I want him to touch me. My body is begging for it.

His eyes are locked on mine, his lips and teeth connecting to my thigh and making my toes curl. I don't know what to do with myself.

I shyly bring my hands down to his hair, the feeling of it soothing my nerves. I like the way his hair feels in my hands.

Without thinking, I pull on it, attempting to pull him closer between my legs.

Desperation is what I'm feeling.

He notices it right away. His eyes instantly looking up at me again.

"Is it starting to hurt, baby? Aching so bad, dripping down your thighs" I shuffle my legs, ignoring him.

I don't want him to be right. But he is, I need it.

"If you want something from me, angel-" He sinks his teeth into my flesh for a moment and then smiles.

"You've got to ask for it" He says, his face turning serious. I kick my legs in frustration, I don't want to ask him. I barely understand what's happening to me. I can't believe a demon is making me feel like this.

But in my subconscious, I'm questioning it.

Why aren't we allowed to enjoy ourselves?

Why isn't this something all creatures are allowed to experience?

He laughs at me kicking my legs, roughly gripping my thighs and stopping me from moving.

"Use your words" He kisses my thigh again, his lips going higher.

It feels like I'm on fire and the only thing that's going to cool me down is his tongue.

I don't know what to say to make him give me what I want.

"Please" I whisper, running my fingers through his hair. He smiles a bit.

"Please, what?" I get more frustrated, yanking on his hair but all it did was make him smile more. I know he's enjoying it, seeing how frustrated he can get me.

I don't want to say it out loud. I don't want to admit how badly my body is begging to be felt.

"I-I don't know what to say" I whine, trying to shuffle my legs again but he's got a tight hold on me.

"Beg me to touch you, angel, and maybe I will" He sucks lightly on my thigh.

"Or I could leave some pretty marks on your thighs" He bites down harder.

More unfamiliar sounds leave my throat, his teeth in my flesh stinging just slightly but I like it. I hate it. I hate all of the thoughts running through my head. All of them about him. His dirty words on what he wants to do with me. I don't understand it, but I want to.

"Harry, please-" I take a deep, shaky breath.

"I need you to touch me" I plead with him, hating myself for giving him the satisfaction of exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Such a good girl" He whispers, kissing even higher up my inner thigh. I watch him closely, noticing his hand letting go of my thigh and coming inbetween my legs as well.

"Is this what you want? Hm?" My whole body shudders when his fingers run along me. It's already an overwhelming sensation.

"You're so wet, baby. Smell like heaven" He breathes against my flesh and I try to move my hips closer to him. He chuckles and moves his other hand that had been holding thigh, up to my stomach and locking his arm around me tightly. Preventing me from moving.

Very much unvoluntarily, I squeal when I feel his tongue and he laughs, the sound vibrating against me.

It feels so good.

His tongue moves slowly and I try hard to kick my legs because I don't know what else to do. But his grip tightens.

"Harry" I go to pulling his hair instead, but it doesn't phase him. Every little movement of his tongue makes me moan. I can't control it. I hate it.

It truly is pleasure I've never dreamed about before.

He focuses in on the most sensitive part, my vision going blurry. I cry out, yanking on his hair with all my strength and he doesn't flinch. He continues to suck on my flesh until I'm a mess. I can't even think straight.

It's almost a relief when he pulls away for moment, but something in me wants to push him back.

"Tastes like honey, angel. Can't get enough"

This time it feels like his mouth completely engulfs me and I cry out even louder.

The pleasure, is incredible.

I've never felt this before in the millennia I've been alive.

My stomach is tightening to a point that I can't handle. It's the most intense thing I've ever felt.

I try to breath but every flick of his tongue takes my breath away.

"H-Harry" I try to pull him away, an unfamiliar knot in my stomach and all I want is relief. I can hardly breathe.

"P-Please"  I whimper, feeling like I'm going to burst. He's got such a tight hold on me, I can't move. All I can do it pull on his hair and make noise.

Which he seems to love.

His mouth and tongue make me feel like I'm floating, I can't describe it.

I don't understand it, how is he doing this?

Why does it feel so good?

"W-What is happen-" My body trembles and my thighs are shaking.

I'm struggling so much but he just holds me in place and continues to torture me with his tongue.

I close my eyes tightly, my back arching off the bed as my entire body tenses, lightly shaking as he doesn't stop his rhythmic movements.

It's so intense. The unexplainable feeling rips through me and his tongue doesn't stop. Not until my body relaxes a bit, and I'm panting. I try to catch my breath but my mind is so scattered, I can't get myself to breathe regularly.

"So fucking sweet, my little angel. Could eat this delicious cunt for days" I open my eyes, watching as he takes my thighs off his shoulders and gets onto his knees.

"Soaked the sheets, darling" He chuckles and places either hand on the top of my thighs.

I'm still trying to catch my breath, at a loss for words from the experience I just had. He rubs my thighs gently and looks down at me.

"That's what happens when you feel good, baby" He's still rubbing my thighs, helping me to calm down and relax my breathing. I attempt to close my legs a little bit, embarrassed at the mess I created on the bed.

He pins them down, pushing them further apart.

"Don't close your legs, I'm not finished" He warned, a hard grip on my thighs.

He holds down one and then brings his other hand between my legs.

I flinch when his fingers trace along my inner thigh, my body is still incredibly sensitive.

"Made you come so much, baby. Taste so good" He brushes over my nerves for just a second, making my body jolt. He smiles and brings his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers.

"I bet you're so fucking tight" His hand comes between my legs again but before he can touch me I reach down with both my hands and grab his.

He laughs at me and grabs both my wrists, he leans over me and then pins them to the bed.

"What?" He leans his face closer to me.

"Is your pussy too sensitive for me to play with?" He smirks and lifts my hands above my head, pinning them both down with just one of his.

"You think it's intense now, honey?" He uses his knee to spread my legs further apart then they already are.

"Can't wait until you feel me filling you up" He holds my hands tightly and slowly traces his fingers down my body.

His hand sneaks between my legs again and I whimper.

I groan when he pinches me lightly, a jolt of pleasure shooting into my stomach. I'm so sensitive, I hate it.

"You've got such a sensitive little clit, baby. Makes me wanna suck it until you squirt" His fingers lowers slightly and he makes little circles. I struggle in his hold, moaning more.

"Harry-" I gasp when his finger sinks into me.

"So soft" He hums. I look up at him, struggling again in his grasp. It feels really good, his finger slowly sinking into me. It's a different sensation and it amazes me. How can he make me feel like this in so many different ways?

He pulls his finger back, almost all the way before roughly pushing his finger back into me.

I groan, the pleasure coming from even deeper than when he was using his tongue.

"Does it feel good, baby?" He leans down and bites my lip.

I choke on my words when I feel him pushing a second finger into me, my toes curl in response to the pressure. My breath taken away.

"I wonder how I'm going to fit my cock in this tight little cunt, angel" I don't know what to say. His dirty words, I hated them. I hate inappropriate language of any kind but for some reason, I don't want him to stop. I like the sound of his voice.

"As much as I'd love to make you come on my fingers-" He pushes his fingers in and out of me a few more times before pulling them away.

"Wait-" I quickly bite my lip, not meaning to say anything out loud. But I liked the feeling, I didn't want him to pull away.

He smirks and brings his fingers to his lips, sucking on them.

"Don't worry, angel. Not even close to being done with you" He gets off of me and then off the bed.

I sit up and watch as he unbuttons the single button holding his suit jacket. I get up as well and crawl to the edge where he is. I get on my knees and watch him pull it off and set it on the ground. I reach out and grab his hands before he can start unbuttoning the long sleeve shirt he had on.

I pull him right up against the bed, with me on my knees we are about the same height.

Part of me just wanted to admire him. His features were perfect.

His eyes were my favorite. But only the green. I didn't like it when they'd go black.

I bring my hands to the buttons and slowly begin to undo them. His eyes are watching me closely.

I can't help but smile when I get a peak of his skin. I can already see streaks of ink.

I've seen quite a few people on Earth with beautiful designs on their skin.

I undo the last button and pull the rest of the shirt from his pants.

I pull the shirt off of him and let it fall to the floor.

Without asking, or really thinking, my hand comes to the design on his stomach. I trace it and smile even more. It resembled a butterfly and I wonder what it means to him.

Is it ties to the soul he may have had at some point?

I wish I could ask him, I could look, by holding his hand but he'd know it. He'd never let me.

I admire him for a few more moments, his body is breathtaking.

"I like these" I say softly, poking his stomach.

"Thank you, angel" It's the only genuine thing I've heard him say since we met.

The tone of his voice makes my stomach flutter.

I look down at my hands, trying to ignore his eyes when my hands reach his pants.

I bite my lip and take a deep breath.

I'm so nervous at my lack of experience. I can't imagine the amount of times he's done this.

I undo the button and bite my lip harder, unzipping them and pulling them until they also fell to the floor. He steps out of them, still allowing me to take my time. Which I'm grateful for.

I have no idea what I'm doing.

My fingers trace along the edge of the final peice of clothing on him. I also trace my fingers over the designs he has on his hips.

I think any form of art is beautiful. Some angels might disagree, but I do truly love art. And the ink humans put onto their skin, is an art form for them. I think that's amazing.

"Curious little thing" I glance up at him, my face heating up. I can't help it, I've never been this close to anyone.

"Sorry" I whisper, looking down at my hands again. I take a deep breath, copying what he had done to me earlier. I hook my fingers into his underwear and begin to pull them down. I pull them down as far as I can reach in my position. He steps out of them and I quickly look up at his face. He smirks, noticing I avoid looking between his legs.

He brings his hand up my back and slides his hand into my hair.

"Give me your hand" He said, not giving me much time to respond. Instead, he reached out with his free hand and grabbed mine.

My face goes even more red when he wraps my hand around him. It's hard. I can't bring myself to look, I'm so nervous.

"Look what you do to me, angel" He grips my hair and makes me look down. His hand is still on mine, guiding it along his length. I can feel it get even harder as I touch him.

He keeps his hand on mine for just a few more seconds, before pulling it away.

"Just like that, pretty girl" I bite my lip and continue to move my hand in the motion he showed me.

"Do you know why it's hard like that, angel?" I shake my head, unable to move my eyes now. I feel like I'm in a trance.

"All because of you" He pulls my head back so I'll look at him.

"You like stroking my cock, baby?" He smirks.

"Hm, I bet this little angel would be a perfect little cum slut. So obedient" I squeeze my hand around the tip, just a little bit of liquid oozing from it.

"How about, you do me a favour, sweetheart-" He backed up a little, roughly pulling me with him and off the bed. I fall onto the ground in front of him on my knees.

"Hm, the thought of fucking your throat just makes me even harder, angel" I look up at him, the look in his eye is wicked.

"But I want to fuck you, more than I want to do anything else. So, be a good girl for me and use this sweet looking mouth to coat my cock" He smiles down at me.

"I-I don't know what to do" I say shyly, bringing my hand to wrap around him again.

So many emotions are running through me.

"Spit on it" He instructs, pulling my face closer. I grip my hand tighter around him and push myself up higher on my knees. I glance up at him, his eyes not blinking for even a moment.

I look back down, trying to block out the fear. I don't want to mess it up. I want him to feel like I did. But I don't even know if I have the capability to do it.

I collect saliva into my mouth and then listen to his instruction, spitting on him.

"Now-" Before he tells me what to do, I use my hand to spread as much of it as I can down his length.

I've seen a world of art, with naked figures from the past. I never recognized it in a sexual way, but Harry's size is much larger than a lot of the art I've seen.

It makes my stomach flutter, wondering how this is possibly going to fit inside of me.

"You're such a good girl, angel" His tone is soft and it makes my body heat up. I like his praises. He moves his hand from my hair and brings it to my cheek, brushing it gently with his finger tips.

"Open your mouth for me" He says, his fingers touching my lips.

I listen to him and open my mouth. He places his hand on top of mine and guides himself towards my lips.

I lean forward, taking in whatever I can. It's not much, almost right away I choke.

He chuckles a little bit and I meet his gaze.

"Taking a lot in me not to shove my cock as far down your throat as I can get it" The look in his eye darkens slightly.

He pushes me, but not too much, but I choke and pull myself off of him. Saliva already dripping from my mouth.

"Hm, that's enough for now. Just wanted to get a little taste" He reaches down and grabs me, lifting me to my feet.

He pushes me onto the bed, my legs hanging over the edge.

"So many fucking things I want to do to this pretty body, angel" He places his hands on my thighs and shoves them apart before sliding them underneath my thighs and lifting them from the bed.

I wiggle around, realizing I have no control over this position. My bottom half is completely lifted from the bed.

He pulls me closer to the edge and I watch as he holds me up with one hand and the other wraps around his phallus.

My stomach tightens when his tip brushes against me.

"Tell me, angel. I want to hear you say how bad you want me to bury my cock inside of you" He looks down at me, his face is serious.

"I want it, Harry" I whisper, trying to move my hips closer. His serious expression turns into a smirk.

"Ask me to fuck you, baby" He says, watching as I struggle to try and pull him closer.

"But-" He cuts me off and digs his nails harshly into my skin.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He asked, I look at him and nod shyly.

"Then say it" He snaps.

I've never used crude language, ever and my brain still can't understand why my body responds in pleasure to Harry's filthy words.

But I wanted him, something deep inside of me is craving to know what it's going to feel like.

"H-Harry, I-I want you to-" My face burns as I get flustered, trying to get the words out.

"I-I want you to fuck me" I'm almost in disbelief that I say it out loud. But Harry's devilish smirk grows wider.

"Such a good little angel" He hums quietly and then pushes against me.

I watch as he fixes his gaze directly into my eyes and slowly guides himself into me.

I can't describe it, how it feels. It's extremely intense.

But the way he pushes through my flesh is already making my vision go blurry.

I try to tighten my legs around him, so I can pull him closer. He stops me, roughly gripping both of my thighs.

Hes made sure he's in control.

"So soft, angel. Is this what heaven feels like?" I groan when he pulls almost out of me and then roughly drives into me while pulling me towards him at the same time.

I close my eyes, my hands holding the blanket underneath me tightly.

"Fuck" He breathes, quickly finding a pace that's making my eyes roll back. The pressure is unbelievably pleasureful. I don't know what to do with myself, I can't do anything. He has all of the power.

Every thrust of his hips gets harder and harder.

"Harry" I cry out his name, struggling in his hold. It feels so good.

Every moral I've held dear to me, is gone.

I'm finally able to catch my breath when he drops me back onto the bed, pulling out of me.

Every breath I take is shaky, my hands in fists as I try to calm myself.

"Sounds like someone enjoys getting fucked" I open my eyes and he's already starring at me.

"Hm, princess? Do like getting fucked?" I attempt to take a deep breath. I bite my lip and nod.

"Get up on the bed more" He instructs. I take another breath and then listen to him, pushing myself back onto the bed.

He followed me, grabbing me and without any effort, flips me onto my stomach.

"Now stick that pretty ass up for me, angel" Before I can respond, he grabs my hips and lifts me onto my knees. He pushes them apart, and his hands slide up my thighs until his fingers reached sensitive flesh.

My knees go weak when he rubs back and forth, I bury my face into the pillows on the bed. I grab ahold of one and hold onto it tightly.

"Harry!" I cry out his name when he pushes into me again without any warning.

"Yeah, angel? Does it feel good?" I whimper in response to him.

"Hm? I want an answer" He holds my hips tightly, thrusting into me at an overwhelming pace. I can barely breathe, let alone speak. He seemed to be getting even further inside me with this position.

I cry out when he slaps my butt, obviously getting impatient with my lack of words.

"I-It feels really good" I try to say it loud enough so he can hear me but I can't speak. My senses are completely over taken by pleasure.

"That's all I want to hear, angel. Those sweet little cries of pleasure" He slaps me again, but a bit lighter this time. It stings, but every part of it just adds to the knot forming in my stomach.

I'm a mess, if Harry wasn't holding my hips, I wouldn't be able to keep myself up.

I never understood humans who were driven by sex. Like it's a need. I never could have imagined that it would feel like this.

I feel Harry's fingers coming into my hair. He wraps it around his hand and then harshly yanks me up. I groan, feeling incredibly weak.

"Never would have thought an angel would be such a slut for cock" He wrapped his arm around my stomach and pulled my head back against his shoulder.

His thrusting decreases dramatically, but he's so deep inside of me and every little movement he makes sends pleasure through to my toes.

If he gets any deeper I feel like I might burst like a balloon.

He gently bites down against my shoulder, sucking on my skin while his hand that had been wrapped around my stomach, starts to lower.

I whine, knowing exactly what he's about to do and with both hands I grab his arm. I'm so sensitive, if he touches me, I definitely will burst from everything I'm feeling.

"Harry" I beg, trying to pull his hand away but he doesn't budge.

"You can handle it, angel" He whispers in my ear, his fingers once again touching me. But with him buried in me, the pleasure is immense.

"Harry, I-I can't" I whimper more, my nails clawing at his arm to try and pull him away.

I already feel so weak, I don't know how much more my body can take.

He ignored my weak little crys and moved his fingers in quick circles.

The knot in my stomach is so much tighter than when he used his tongue on me.

He rocked me against him and with that bit of movement, I can feel my body tensing.

"Nuh, uh, baby. You aren't coming yet" He pushed me off of him, pulling his hand away and out of me. I fall onto the bed and before I can do anything, he grabs me and turns me over.

He pushes my legs apart and gets on top of me.

He places a hand next to my head to hold himself up. Shyly, I reach my hands out to his face. I touch his cheeks for a moment before sliding my hands to his shoulders. He's so broad. I get distracted by the birds on his chest, tracing them each individually. I can't help but smile, they are very nice.

I glance up at him and bite my lip.

"Sorry, I just like these a lot" I whisper. He lifts my leg up against his hip and then leans down close to me. It's something I realize that I really like doing. I like kissing him.

I lift my other leg up against him, my hands coming back to hair and pulling him closer to me, connecting our lips.

He pulled back after a moment and with his free hand, brought it down my chest.

I jump a little when a shock of pleasure runs through me, his fingers lightly pulling on my nipple. He lowers his hand down and I watch as he wraps his hand around himself. He strokes along his length and then rubs the tip against me.

"Can't wait to fill with my cum, angel" He drives into me hard, my back arching from the bed at the feeling. My nails digging into the back of his neck.

Out of the positions he's had me in, I liked this one the best. He's warm.

He isn't gentle, but I enjoyed our closeness.

"Such a pretty little angel, now my own little slut" He whispered, leaning close to me again and brushing my lips. He doesn't kiss me, instead he moves his lips down my jaw.

I pull on his hair, moaning. I look between our bodies, watching as he pulls out just to plunge back into me.

I gently pull his hair again, guiding his lips back up to mine. I wanted to taste them again. I hold onto his cheeks, both of our moans being muffled by our kiss.

It's much messier, our tongues swirling together and making the pleasure even stronger. I hold him against my lips, refusing to let him pull them away from me.

He let's me do it for just a little longer before roughly grabbing my arms and pinning them to the bed.

He bites my lip before moving to my neck again.

He begins to quicken his pace again, sending me down a spiral of pleasure I could never imagine. Every second of it is...bliss.

I don't have to think, I just take in every feeling of it and it's incredible.

"You feel that, angel? Those little walls of your clenching against my cock?" He groans against my neck, teeth sinking into my neck.

He sucks on my skin again, before moving his lips up to my ear.

"Softest cunt I've ever fucked" He whispers before pushing himself up onto his knees and grabbing my hips.

My mind goes numb when he drives into me harder than he has all night. I'm crying in pleasure, my hands grabbing at his hands again.

It's so extreme, pleasure consuming every fibre of my being.

"Harry" I moan, the familiar feeling of my body tensing up.

"Is this sweet little angel about to come all over my cock?" His thrusts become more sloppy, but my mind is somewhere else.

I've never felt like this before.

It's pure bliss and I can't comprehend it.

It rips through me like tidal waves and I cry out his name repetitively as it washes over me.

"Fuck, fuck, angel" He swears under his breath, pushing himself as deep into me as he could possibly get and holding my hips tight. He doesn't pull out this time, he stops his thrusts suddenly.

I feel the release, my body still tightening around him.

"Sweet little pussy is taking every last drop from me, angel" He takes a breath, looking down at me before finally pulling out.

_____

My mind is still reeling. Trying to comprehend everything that just happened.

I watch as Harry buttons up his shirt slowly.

What's going to happen now?

I pull on my dress, reaching behind me and pulling up the zipper.

It doesn't feel real and suddenly, I feel so unclean.

Why did I do this? How could I do this?

How could I betray everything I know?

It scares me even more because I enjoyed it.

I glance at Harry, watching as he pulled on his jacket.

He hasn't said anything. Just looking at me every once in a while as he got dressed.

I didn't know what to make of him and I hate myself for even thinking about the chance of this happening with him again.

"What's going to happen now?" I ask softly.

"What now?" Suddenly, he's mocking me.

I watch in fear as the green in his eyes quickly disappears into black.

"Oh, darling" He shakes his head, laughing at me.

"You really are, so naive" I back away from him, fear filling my stomach. What's happening?

"You thought you could trust me? A demon?" He steps towards me, an evil smile on his face.

"Did you truly think you were anything but a toy for me to play with?" He follows my footsteps, but I'm stopped by the wall.

"God, it was so easy manipulating you" He scoffed, standing right in front of me.

I try to will myself away but nothing happens and he chuckles even more.

His eyes seem even darker than before.

I'm so confused, I tear up, looking at him. But his expression is unphased.

He pulls the blade from his jacket and points it at me.

"I'm just doing my job, sweetheart" He reaches down and roughly grabs my left hand and turns it face up.

"No, please don't" I cry, tears falling down my cheeks.

I'm trying to will up any power I can, but it's blocked and I don't know how.

"So stupid, I never needed you to get the boy" He snaps.

He brings the blade to my palm and traces it. I fight him, as hard as I can. I know what he's doing.

Only angels know of this curse.

I've only heard whispers of it, whispers of some of the punishments angels face when they stray.

It's knowledge a demon shouldn't have.

I do everything I can, but his strength is no match.

I cry out in pain as he carves into my hand and then, everything goes dark.

[atlafan]

[wonderlandficarchive]

supernatural au

demon

demon!harry series by @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy 

angel!reader & demon!harry series by @harryhoney-bee 

tales from the modern incubus series by @gurugirl 

sensitive wings blurb by @harryforvogue 

angel!y/n is pissed off at demon!harry & he knows just how to fix it by @harryforvogue 

the abyss by @harryforvogue 

new rules by @honeyskins

y/n catches harry stealing blood and things get messy by @jawllines

- part two

vampire

chiaroscuro by @moonchildstyles

vampire!harry concepts by @erodasfishtacos 

you’re someone i just want around series (ongoing) by @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy 

beauty & the beast series (unfinished) by @jarofstyles

werewolf

werewolves exist, harry hates y/n, & niall eats a lot by @jawllines 

- part two: werewolves still exist, harry hated y/n, and niall’s tired of explaining stuff

blurb by @jawllines

werewolf!h blurbs by @erodasfishtacos 

werewolf!h oneshots by @erodasfishtacos 

a/b/o

alpha!h & omega!y/n series by @harryhoney-bee 

nest by @moonchildstyles

harry and y/n hate each other…but things change by @jawllines 

alpha harry helps innocent y/n in her first heat by @jawllines

- part two

alpha!harry finds a scared, confused, & recently turned omega!y/n by @jawllines

mermaid/siren

deep end series (on going) by @heyyyharry 

y/n didn’t know mermaids exist & harry can’t stand humans by @jawllines

- part two and part three

witch

citrine series by @moonchildstyles 

the witching hour by @moonchildstyles 

harry and y/n are witches, they hate each other, & something’s coming by @jawllines 

- part two and part three 

alien

alienrry series by @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy 

[knowiloveyoubabe]

Kiss of Life

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: Mentions of terminal illness

Summary: AU Demon!rry

MASTERLIST

The full moon hung over her head, illuminating the otherwise pitch black night. There was just enough light for Y/N to see what she was doing, on her knees in the dirt, hunched over. She pants as she desperately dug a small hole at the center of the crossroads, dirt making its way under her fingernails and mucking up her clothing. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the small shoe box that sat by her side and the dirt that she was clawing at. 

“The photo of the mortal wishing to make the deal, a handful of graveyard dirt, and a bone from a black cat.” The shrill voice of the old psychic rang in her head, sending a shiver down her spine. 

Y/N had never sought out a psychic before this, she would’ve never thought about it had it not been for the news she got just last night. 

The fluorescent bulbs buzzed on the ceiling, the harsh pale light beamed at them. It was nearly blinding as it bounced off of the white walls and bedding of the hospital room. The buzzing was all they heard as their bodies sat stiff, hearts pounding against their ribs. 

“I’m so sorry,” The doctor repeated sincerely, “I’ll give you some time alone.” The doctor bowed her head slightly, excusing herself quietly. 

Y/N stared right ahead, her eyes focusing on a piece of lint on the otherwise pristine white floor. Thoughts raced through her head as she tried to process the news they’d just heard. She hadn’t noticed that her breathing had gone shallow until her beloved called out her name. 

“Yes, my love.” She breathes out shakily, looking up to meet the eyes of the man she loved so deeply. His cracked lips were downturned, his hand extended on the bed, as though he were reaching out. She rushed over to the bed, taking his hand in hers. He sighed deeply and pushed her hand away, avoiding her eyes. 

“I need some time.” His voice rasped. Y/N felt her chest tightening, tears streaming down her face. She nods, sniffling. 

“I love you.” She whispers, her voice faltering. She stands there for a beat, waiting for him to look at her, if even for a fleeting moment, but he never does. Y/N inhales shakily, turning around and exiting the room, trying to convince herself that there’s nothing she could’ve done to prevent this. But if that was the case, why did she feel so guilty?

She shook her head slightly, trying to stop those thoughts from progressing even further. She’s doing the only thing left to do, she’d do anything for him.

Please, please work. Please. She thought to herself as she sat back on her heels, breathing out a heavy sigh. She closed her eyes, remaining stagnant for a moment as she took in what would be the last handful of minutes that she’d have as a full, whole human being. 

“Okay,” She whispered to herself, opening her eyes and grabbing the box, the items she’d spent all day hunting down shifted inside. “I can do this.”

She hesitantly lowered the box into the shallow hole and started packing the loose dirt over it, her eyes straining to scan her dark, wooded surroundings. Once the box was properly buried, she pushed herself off of the ground, attempting to shake some of the dirt off of her person. The world around her remained suspiciously still, the gentle breeze and swaying trees had slowed to a stop, the crickets had ceased their incessant chirps. Her heart pounded in her chest, the sound resonating in her ears and nearly vibrating the rest of her body.

“My, my. Look what we have here.” A gravelly voice broke the silence from behind her, sending her heart into more of a frenzy. She whipped around to face the stranger attached to the voice, her breath getting caught in her chest as her eyes locked with his. The stranger chuckled, taking one of his hands out of his suit pocket to run it through his slightly coiffed hair. He towered over Y/N, his lean form awfully close as he looked down at her. His sharp features were accentuated by the black suit that donned his body, contrasting with the soft curves of his plump pink lips. There was a small beauty mark below the corner of his lips. He was beautiful. His green eyes seemed to glow, cutting through the darkness surrounding them. 

“What’s a girl like you doing summoning me?” He spoke slowly, staring her down. Y/N squirmed a bit under his gaze but attempted to keep her composure by crossing her arms, the tension thickening the air. 

“It’ll lead you once you summon it. Don’t let it intimidate you, child.” Her mind replayed what the psychic had insisted over and over. She swallows the lump in the back of her throat and inhales a sharp breath. 

“So how does this work?” Y/N asks firmly, silently begging her voice not to betray her. The beautiful stranger tilts his head to the side, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“How does what work?” He asks inquisitively, eyes narrowing slightly. Y/N’s breath stutters as her brows furrow.

Did I do it wrong? She thought, recounting the steps in her head. 

“You know,” She says hesitantly, maintaining eye contact with the gorgeous demon in front of her. “Selling my soul or whatever.” 

A beat of silence passed between them before the man snorted, suddenly doubling over in laughter, clutching his abdomen. Y/N is almost taken aback by the man’s reaction, the sheer shift in his attitude. 

“You can’t be serious!” He laughs, his sharp features suddenly softened by the pink tint in his dimpled cheek. Y/N gawks at him in confusion, causing him to straighten up his posture. 

“Wait, you’re serious?” He purses his lips, attempting to stop himself from laughing again. Y/N’s annoyance was clear as she huffs out a breath, crossing her arms. 

“I mean, I summoned you right?” She rolls her eyes, her patience wearing thin. 

“What could a good girl like you possibly want to sell her soul for?” The demon scoffs, his arms crossing over his own chest, mirroring Y/N. 

“‘Good girl’? How could you possibly know that?” She nearly stomps her foot at his baseless assumption. His eyes take in her body from bottom to top, settling at the cross around her neck. 

“You’re joking.” He says flatly, giving her a bored expression. She sees his eyes on the cross her grandmother had given her and brushes her fingers over it, releasing a sharp breath from her nose. 

“Listen, I get that you’re a demon and all, but this arrogant shtick is getting boring.” She snaps. A crooked smirk tugs at his lips. 

“Pretty and snappy,” He growls lightly, stepping closer to her. His ringed fingers traced the outline of her jawline from under her ear, all the way to her chin, softly nudging her face up. “Delicious.” 

She felt his breath on her face, their noses mere inches apart. His eyes lingered on her lips for a moment before flicking up to meet hers. 

“Tell me - what is it that you want, darling?” He spoke softly, as his thumb hovered over her lips, touching them ever so lightly. 

“First tell me your name.” She whispered, delicately moving her lips under the soft pad of his thumb causing him to lick his lips.

“Harry.” He smirks, using his other hand to brush a couple of loose strands of hair from her face. Y/N gasps lightly at the gesture, her body betraying everything the psychic warned her about. 

“I’m-” 

“I know who you are, Y/N.'' He drawls out, his dimple deepening as he watches her mesmerized expression twist into one of confusion. 

“How do you know my name?” She steps back, Harry’s hands falling from her face. He chuckles, he could practically see the anxiety radiating off of her. “This is a contract, love. The moment you buried that box, your name was documented. Now, what is so important that you’d sell your soul for it?” He spoke slowly, carefully. She watched his lips, noticing how they seemed to wrap around the words.

“My boyfriend, he’s terminally ill. I want to save him.” Y/N released a shaky breath, feeling a lump grow in the back of her throat at the mention of her boyfriend. Harry’s eyebrows furrow as he nods his head slowly.

“I see. Boyfriend.” He mumbles, his index and middle fingers hover over his lips as though he is deep in thought.

“Yes, boyfriend.” She nods.

“Mhm, dying boyfriend.” He mumbles again. Y/N tilts her head, placing her hands on her hips.

“Yes, dying boyfriend. I'm sorry, was I not clear?” She huffs out, watching him pace back and forth. 

“Yeah, I don’t think you want to sell your soul for him.” He says matter-of-factly. Y/N scoffs, shaking her head. 

“Listen, asshole-” 

“Woah!”

 “-It’s my soul and I get to choose what I want to do with it!” She clenches her fists, annoyed with the absolute gall of this man. Harry’s hand laid on his chest, over his heart, feigning offense.

“That’s quite rude for someone who’s asking for my help!” He laughs arrogantly and Y/N lets out a groan of frustration.

“You’re such a dick!” She turns around, approaching the spot that she buried the box in, preparing to dig it up.

“What are you doing?” Harry follows behind her, she rolls her eyes.

“Getting rid of you, I’m sure there are other demons who would be more than happy to take my soul.” She starts to kneel down in front of the buried box.

“That’s not how that works, you know.” He says condescendingly, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Then I’ll make it work! I’ll find another crossroads, I’ll summon the devil himself! I don’t need some pretty boy demon telling me what to do!” She nearly shouts in frustration, turning her head to look at him. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he extended his hand, offering to help her off the ground. 

“I’ll give you whatever you want, you won’t hear a peep out of me.” Harry pretends to zip his lips shut, throwing away the key. She narrows her eyes in suspicion before rolling them. She took his hand, standing up, expecting him to let go but he didn’t. Instead, he moved closer, using his thumb to brush some dirt off of her cheek. His pupils dilated, nearly overtaking the green of his irises as he took in every small detail of her face. Y/N struggled to control her breathing, almost hypnotized by his beauty.

“Pretty boy demon?” A smug smile broke through his serious expression, causing Y/N to groan once again, slapping his hands away. She clenches her fists at her sides, looking up at the sky. 

“Harry, please. I need to save him,” She pleads, closing her eyes. “I love him.” 

Tears begin falling from her eyes, down the sides of her face. An ache pierced at Harry’s chest, confusing him. 

What is this? He thought, pausing for a moment, his hand laying on his chest lightly, perplexed at the sudden awakening of emotions he had not felt in centuries.

“You know,” Harry clears his throat, “I’m becoming quite fond of you, Y/N.” He smiles, fiddling with his rings. She sighs, trying to avoid the dirt on her sleeves as she wipes her tears on them. 

“Does that mean you’ll save him?” She sniffles, her lips trembling. Harry nods, taking her hand in his. Y/N doesn’t question the gesture, feeling strangely comfortable with the demon.

“Yeah, I’ll save him,” Harry’s thumb traced over her knuckles softly, “Now we just have to seal the deal.” She releases a sigh of relief, smiling at the beautiful man. 

“Okay, how do we do that? Do we have to shake hands or do I have to sign something?” She asks, causing Harry to chuckle at her naivety. She tilts her head to the side, confusion clear on her face.

“No, darling. A kiss must be shared to seal any deal.”

Y/N squawks, his words catching her completely off guard.

“A kiss?!” She squeaks, her eyes as wide as the full moon illuminating both of them. Harry nods, giggling. 

“The eyes aren’t the only gateway to the soul.” He teases, Y/N throwing her head back slightly, groaning at the corny line.

“You’re ridiculous,” She crosses her arms, a slight smile tugging at her lips, “But seriously, why a kiss?” 

Harry paused, his small smile mirroring hers. He had never allowed a human to ask as many questions as he’d allowed the stunning person standing before him. It was quite clear that she hadn’t done any real research, not truly knowing what she was getting herself into. 

How endearing. He thought, watching as she awaited his answer.

“Ever heard of ‘the kiss of life’?” Her brows furrowed at his question, shaking her head. 

“When we seal the deal, we seal it with the kiss of life. Usually there would be an exchange of life force that happens between the two people, the life force being your souls. But since I don’t have one, I’ll be taking yours.” Harry explained casually, the last sentence sending a shiver through Y/N’s body. 

“I see,” She breathes out, attempting to absorb everything he said. “But doesn’t that mean that I can kiss him and give him some of my ‘life force’?” She questions. Harry shakes his head, smiling.

“Full of questions, are we?” He chuckles, stepping closer to her, causing her breathing to hitch ever so slightly.

“No, darling. Humans all have the same amount of life force from birth until death. You may exchange life force but you're both left with the same amount as before. Never more, never less.” He clarified. 

Y/N nibbled on her lower lip, nodding her head. This was it, the only thing standing between her and saving her boyfriend's life was a kiss. She felt this strange excitement in the pit of her stomach at the thought of kissing the charming demon, bringing about a wave of guilt. She silently tried to convince herself that the feeling was actually just the excitement of saving her boyfriend's life.

“Anymore questions, lovely?” He brushes his fingers down her arm lightly and she shakes her head. 

“No, I think I’m ready.” She takes a deep breath, stepping slightly closer to Harry. He nods his head, trying to ignore the confusing flutter in his abdomen. 

What is happening? I’ve done this more times than I can count. Harry thought, his eyebrows furrowing.

Her hand rested on his bicep, their bodies nearly pressed against one another. Their eyes met for what felt like an eternity, both caught in some sort of trance. He ducks his head, their lips brushing against each other softly, both of their eyes fluttering shut. His hands settled on her waist, pulling her firmly against his body as he breathed her in for a moment. He felt her heart pound against his own chest and her breath on his lips, he almost couldn’t take the tension anymore. 

He pressed his lips fervently against hers, electricity replacing the anxiety in their bodies. His lips melded with hers almost desperately, as though they’d been waiting forever to find hers. Y/N gripped his suit jacket in an attempt to pull him closer, the distance between their bodies already nonexistent. She’d never experienced such a closeness, the hunger for more of him overtaking her senses. 

Y/N pulls away first as an image of her boyfriend flashes behind her closed eyes, her forehead remaining on Harry’s. His eyes stayed shut, his fingers slightly tightening on her waist. His breathing was elevated, her warmth almost beckoning him to stay right there and burn in it for the rest of eternity. She shut her eyes again, her fingers running through the short hairs on the nape of his neck.

“Harry,” Y/N whispers breathily, “I-”

“Good luck.” He clears his throat, cutting her off. A gust of wind stripped her of his warmth, her eyes opened and found no trace of him. 

The demon’s disappearance left an emptiness she couldn’t quite shake off as her fingers hovered over her lips, the electricity lingering on her skin. She released a staggered breath, shaking her head slightly as though she were physically pushing the thought to the back of her mind. 

She pulls her car key from her pocket, rushing to see the person she just sold her soul for.

[eddiesghxst]

no wait because after the first time angel and demon hunter!h fuck, angel probably sees the marks and hickeys she left on him the next morning and immediately panics.

“you’re hurt, what happened?! where did this come from? are you okay?”

Harry wears a tiny smirk as he watches you inspect your marked territory. “i’m okay-“ “what happened?” “..you happened.” you pause at this, leaning back and blinking up at him in confusion. “what?…me? i did this?”

Harry’s eyebrows raise in amusement. “yes…it was you i fucked last night, was it not?” his words make you blush, memories of the night before rushing back, but you also begin to remember every instance that lead to the bruises and scratches scattered on Harry’s body.

your face begins to heat in guilt. “i’m so sorry, how badly does it hurt? i can try and nurse them with what you have here but-“ “there’s no need to apologize, princess.”

Harry softly laughs at your look of confusion. “they hurt, yes, but it’s evidence of how good i made you feel. and either way, i like the pain.”

that makes you tilt your head in confusion. “y-you…like the pain?” your voice has a slight tremble that nearly goes unnoticed by Harry. his eyes hold a glimmer of something, similar to what you had witnessed last night before he unraveled you in ways you could’ve never imagined.

he smiles, raising a hand to push back your messy hair, “yes, darling. i like the pain,” his tone is gentle and it has a dull ache rising between your legs, your thighs subconsciously pressing together as you gaze up at him. “how…how does it feel?”

“sore…a good sore. like how your cunt feels now,” he smirks when your breath silently hitches at his words. his gaze flickers down to watch as he trails his thumb over your bottom lip, barely dipping into the wet and warm cavern to catch your spit before pulling back to rub it across your lip. “only not as intense. less of an ache.” his eyes flicker back to yours. “…would you like to try?” he softly asks.

you take in a slow breath and Harry sees your hesitation. he’s quick to ease your nerves, “we won’t do anything extreme. i can just give you one of these,” his finger points to a purple and pink splotch on his skin, right where his neck and shoulder join, exactly where you had suckled on last night as he pounded into you over and over. “see how you like it, yeah?”

you swallow, thinking for a moment before nodding.

and let’s just say you definitely didn’t hate the pain.

[red-pandaaa]

Summon a Demon for @1dtrickortreatfest Larry | 666 | Mature Louis hears Harry talking through their shared wall, until he finally has enough and goes to confront Harry

[cherryjuiceblues]

𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐄 | 𝟏

➯ Y/N ACCIDENTALLY SUMMONS A DEMON AND HE WON’T LEAVE HER ALONE. ✰ demon!harry no warnings. 𝑤𝑐 7k ッ vanilla lime masterlist

Y/N has never been so mortified in her entire life. She thinks this might be it for her—that life should just end here—because there is no way in hell she is ever going to step foot outside ever again.

How can she after what has happened?

Worst of all (and there are many factors), the disastrous tragedy occurred at her workplace meaning she has no other choice but to find a new job and the thought only causes more hysteria, a fresh wave of tears soaking her skin as she sits hunched in the middle of her bed—hands over her face like they will hide her from the world.

And she had been so excited to wake up this morning; whispers about the new boss floating around the office all week had Y/N utterly intrigued about what she would be like (she’s struggled not to create an idyllic picture of what life at work could become; she often tends to get too deep inside her head and create false realities, and she knows she needs to find another coping mechanism but Y/N can’t help that her imagination is larger than her self-control!). So, when her alarm had gone off, she was up immediately, not even stopping to savour the warmth of her sheets, and getting ready.

And maybe now, looking back after the day she’s had, she may have recognised the signs of misfortune ahead of her, but in the moment nothing could have distracted her.

First it's her period starting, which is okay because she caught it without making a mess and she’d top up on painkillers before she left home. The second thing is entirely her fault because she always gets especially clumsy and jittery when she is excited or nervous, so of course she is going to trip and twist her ankle—but that is also not so bad because she is already taking painkillers for her period so there is no extra harm done. Y/N feels entirely unaffected by both of these things, still buzzing to get out of the door, until she goes to make breakfast and realises she has run out of her favourite cereal, which she’ll admit does put a bit of a frown on her face. (But a frown is nothing during that time of the month so she reacts considerably much better than she usually would!) So she’d had to have toast instead which was fine but undoubtedly interrupts the routine she has looked forward to since the night prior, and as it turns out it only spirals further.

The drive to work is standard, and Y/N has already forgotten about her minor inconveniences, refusing to wince as she gets out of the car—too stubborn to acknowledge that the painkillers have not effectively worked at numbing the pain in her ankle. She’d proudly forgone coffee, knowing she was probably a bit too wired already—and she absolutely could not entertain the possibility of accidentally spilling it on anyone, let alone her new boss—so as she enters the office as casually as possible on her throbbing ankle, she is relieved to see her favourite co-worker, Imogen, waiting for her by the elevator holding two cups of what Y/N hopes isn’t what she’d thought to avoid. Imogen sports a grin as soon as she spots her, enthusing Y/N to hurry up with a nod of her head.

“I got you a tea. Thought you might be a bit too on-edge for loads of caffeine,” She says, as soon as Y/N is near.

Smiling, Y/N hums, cradling the mug in her hands, “Thank you, Gen.” She sips, feeling the hot liquid trail down her throat, her brain given a moment to breathe.

Y/N thinks that was the last her brain (or lungs) has breathed in the last 5 hours. She’s a blubbering mess and her hormones have really kicked in now, along with the swelling of her ankle which makes moving so hard, and she’s feeling so sorry for herself she doesn’t know what to do. Everything is on replay in her head, and it gets worse every time, new consequences shouting at Y/N from the depths of her mind.

What if Imogen doesn’t want to be seen with you anymore because you’ve ruined her reputation by association? What if someone filmed the whole thing and it goes viral on Twitter? Then you won’t be employed ever again. What if your family refuses to talk to you, what if your boss sues you, what if you get kicked out of your apartment, what if—

“What’s happened to you then?”

Y/N shrieks, head whipping up so fast she’s lucky she doesn’t add a pulled neck muscle to her list of injuries. Across from her bed, sitting comfortably in her armchair that she likes to read in, is a man. She thinks she’s hallucinating for a moment because there is little explanation as to how or why there would be a man in her bedroom. And she’s still crying, but now she’s terrified, so words don’t exactly come easily.

“Who—What—How did you get in here?” She tries to shuffle back against her headboard, too shocked to be careful with her ankle and her arms buckle as the pain shoots up her foot, causing her eyes to well up again and she feels so useless at this moment. “Please get out of my house.” The words come out wet, fresh tears rolling down her face, the severity of the situation sinking in. She, hopelessly slowly, moves as far away from him as possible, keeping her legs deadly still until her back reaches the pillows and she pulls one onto her lap—maybe she can throw it at him.

The man leans forward, expression completely blank. He looks bored, if anything, as if she has inconvenienced him. “You’re the one that brought me here, sad thing. Why are you in such a tizzy, hm?” He looks her over, taking in the mess of hair on her head, her red, tearful eyes, wet cheeks and swollen mouth, and simply leans back in the chair again.

Y/N can’t even begin to process what he’s saying and knows she needs to get out, that this man can only be here for bad, and that she’ll have to pretend there is nothing wrong with her ankle. So she makes the effort—at least she’ll know she tried to help herself—as she swings her legs over the side of the bed, pillow in hand, ignoring the screaming pain. She’ll have to hop.

The wall welcomes her hand as she pitifully makes her way to the door, taking a glance behind her, checking to see the man sitting in her chair. But he’s gone and she gasps as she looks forward and he’s stood in the doorway, looking down at her. Y/N goes to throw the pillow at him (knowing it's embarrassingly futile and if she were watching herself in a movie would rightly feel she deserved to be killed; the humour of the situation fails to comfort her) but it doesn’t even leave her hands before he plucks it away and drops it on the floor.

“Why don’t you stop panicking and tell me why you summoned me?” He steps forward forcing Y/N to retreat clumsily, tripping backwards and landing against the side of her bed, face crumpling in pain as her ankle gets folded underneath her bum. He stares down, face hinting at an amused smirk as if her distress is entertaining. Maybe she really is hallucinating. This can’t be real, people can’t be summoned.

“I’m almost inclined to believe you actually don’t know what’s going on. I’ve truly never seen anyone so scared of a demon they’ve willingly invited in,” the man’s voice is slow and deep, nearly enough so to make sense but Y/N has a headache now along with everything else and she really just wants to go to sleep.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Y/N whimpers, pulling herself onto her bed. Her head is spinning but she feels mellow suddenly, eyelids drooping, inhaling a delicate scent of vanilla and lime. In the chaos, she realises she’s stopped crying, and even the attempt to recall the day’s events are blocked as if something is stopping her from thinking.

“I guess we’ll try again once you’ve slept,” she hears the man sigh and sit down, presumably in the chair she first saw him in. But her eyes are closed now and she feels herself drifting away into a blissful slumber.

When Y/N wakes up she thinks she’s just had the weirdest dream in the history of dreams. The sun is streaming through her open curtains, a gentle breeze from the window, and she can’t remember how long she’s been asleep but she must’ve gone through the whole night. She’s so disorientated that she nearly forgets that the work incident wasn’t contained in her sleep fantasy, but before she can start the loop inside her head again, her organs chirp up and Y/N hobbles to the bathroom.

Sitting on the toilet, she’s able to assess the damage to her ankle; the skin is bruising, a purple and green hue creeping over the swelling. Y/N is pretty sure it’s Friday, but she’s also pretty sure that she’s assumed to be sick after rushing out of the office building and into her car quicker than she has ever moved in her life. Maybe she’ll message Imogen and ask her to cover for her.

The only thing Y/N wants is to crawl back into bed and hug her pillow and maybe cry some more, so she finishes up in the bathroom, finds some painkillers in the cabinet and limps back to the comfort of her sheets. She climbs under and sits against her pillows, taking the pills with the two-day-old glass of water on her bedside table.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” The man from her dream appears in the doorway, sipping from her favourite mug.

Y/N jolts, spilling water all over her covers, and memories she assumed were a part of her dream materialise in front of her, along with a familiar vanilla and lime scent. And she’s too tired and fed up to move, a tiny part of her feeling as though he would’ve tried something by now if he was going to at all.

But she’s frowning at him. “That’s my favourite mug! I’d rather you didn’t use that.” Her voice is congested and croaky, but her annoyed tone isn’t missed—priorities clearly well in check.

The man tilts his head slightly as if caught off guard. “But I’m not finished.” He gestures with his hand that’s holding the mug. He seems mellow and suddenly so does Y/N and it would be so easy for her to lie down and close her eyes.

“How did you get into my house? Did you chloroform me last night?” She asks, head suddenly fuzzy. “Are you doing it right now?” Words coming out in mumbles.

“You summoned me. No. And no.” He doesn’t move from the doorway, only adjusting to lean against the frame.

“Stop saying that! I didn’t summon you, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why do I feel so foggy?” She clumsily puts the glass down, banging it about a couple of times before letting go.

“I’m trying to keep you calm so I can do my job properly, last night was a little intense, hm?”

“What do you mean? How did you get here?” Y/N is starting to get frustrated with the number of times she’s asked him that question. “Can you stop talking in riddles?”

“Sure, I’ll humour you,” he sighs. “Are you going to freak out if I sit down?” He nods to the chair he’d appeared in last night. She shakes her head faintly, eyes following him as he takes a seat. “I’m a demon. I spend my life catering to people. When somebody wants something done, very often a lazy human, they can summon a demon to do it for them. But not without some sort of price. So, you’ve clearly gone through something, oh so traumatic,” he pouts mockingly, “and you summoned me to make things better. Is that right, sad, little thing?”

Y/N is inclined to laugh right in his face, but the word demon is hanging over her head like a big, red DANGER sign and she second-guesses herself. So she shakes her head again. “No,” she sniffles, utterly overwhelmed. “Stop messing with my head.”

He stretches out in the chair, like a big cat who has just woken from a nap. “Are you gonna get all teary again if I do? I really can’t be bothered to wait for you to sleep it off a second time.”

She’s shaking her head vigorously this time, and it’s almost like she can see the sweet smell of vanilla and lime dancing away until all the tendrils have been sucked out the window. And the panic rises immediately, her chest constricting as she tries to breathe in and it gets stuck. The man rolls his eyes, drinking the rest of the cup’s contents before placing it on the floor.

“I’ve put your favourite mug down,” he pulls a mocking, tight-lipped smile, as if that would quell the anxiety of having him in her bedroom. “Now tell me why were you crying yesterday. Quickly.”

“I don’t want your help,” she says quietly, closing her eyes to block as much of him out as possible—trying to breathe. “You can go, I don’t need your help.”

“Ah, well, that’s not how it works, is it? I told you how it works. There’s a price. I can’t leave until I fulfil my job and you pay me.” He starts picking at his nails which Y/N notices are painted a pretty, blush colour. She looks at her own, a nude that she only recently put on, already chipping.

“I don’t care, I want you to go, please,” tears are brimming her eyes and she finds herself looking away so he doesn’t ridicule her for crying again. “I unsummon you, or whatever.”

“You said you weren’t going to cry,” she looks up, causing a drop to spill over and she wipes it away quickly. “If you don’t tell me what you were weeping over, I will force you to. And I don’t think you’ll enjoy that very much.”

Y/N doesn’t want to know how he would do that, so she gives in. “I just had a bad day,” she starts. She thinks once she says it all out loud it’ll get better… maybe. The man looks at her, expectantly. “It was the first day we were all meeting our new boss and I was so excited to get to work, but my period had started which meant my emotions were haywire, and I twisted my ankle, and my favourite cereal was all gone, and—”

“—Your favourite cereal was all gone? Really? That’s important to why you were crying?” He scoffs, “Humans are so odd.”

“Do you want me to tell you or not?” Y/N frowns at him, placing her arms around herself in a hug. He gives a dismissive look. “So I was restless, and my ankle hurt, and I hadn’t even got to work yet. And then I arrived and I met Gen, and she’d brought me a tea,” she breathes in, “and then we get in the elevator, and I’m trying to stay calm—I thought I was doing a pretty good job too, but then we get to our floor and we walk to our desks and—” She inhales shakily, bottom lip wobbling.

“Come on, you’re getting somewhere.” He somewhat encourages, mouth curled upwards derisively but eyes gentle.

“Well, I realise I’ve left my phone in my car and I’m rushing because the boss was arriving soon and I decided to run the stairs, as the lift takes too long and I hate standing still when I’m nervous.” Her words are nearly indecipherable. “So I start to go down the stairs and I’m thinking really loudly so I can’t hear anyone else coming up, plus my ankle is screaming. And—and I run straight into the boss and she falls down the stairs—” Y/N breaks off in a snivel, “I could’ve killed her! She could’ve broken her neck or something, and I didn’t know what to do, so I just ran to my car and I left! Who does that? I’m so embarrassed, and upset, and I feel so guilty that I just left her there because I freaked out and—”

“That’s it?” The man stands up, clear disbelief written all over his face.

“What do you mean, that’s it?” Some of Y/N’s upset is displaced by the imminent shock she feels as he stands up, and she watches as his eyes fill with a blackness as dark as ink, swirling in smoky tendrils, until the whites and pupils are completely cloaked. “You’re just a spoiled brat, aren’t you?” He tuts. “Sitting there, crying your eyes out because you tripped a woman up.

“You know people summon me to kill? To enact revenge on the most evil of injustices. And I’m here because you pushed a woman down the stairs.” He scoffs, eyes still void of colour as he walks to the window, opening it as much as possible, and leaning his palms against the frame.

“Are you going to kill me?” Y/N asks, unsurprised that a man who claims to be a demon is a murderer but aware once again that he is in her bedroom.

“For fuck’s sake, you don’t listen, do you? No, I’m not going to kill you,” he looks over his shoulder, glancing at her dishevelled state. “I very easily could though,” he steps to the foot of her bed. “You’re a delicate, little thing. And you’ve hurt yourself so you can’t run away. I could end it all so quickly you wouldn’t even feel it, or I could drag it out forever. I could suspend you in a permanent state of dying.” His words die out, ending in a whisper, hand reaching for her leg over the covers and Y/N jerks it back—watching a grin appear.

Y/N doesn’t know how to look at him, scared that if she stares into his eyes for too long her heart will slowly stop beating or that she’ll wither like a plant. Either way, it’s like she can’t blink. It’s as if she can feel her pupils dilating, brain struggling to catch up with what she’s seeing in front of her. The man only grins wider, trailing his finger across the patterns on her sheets.

“I suppose I better help you out then, hm? And then you can pledge your soul to me and all of this will be over.”

Y/N flinches, “Pledge my what?”

“Well, what else would you expect from a demon?” He’s still smiling but his eyes are clearing and through the ink, his green irises are revealed once again.

“I don’t know… Money? Why would anyone pledge their soul to a—” She catches herself and looks at him, cautiously. He’s staring at her, mouth upturned.

“A what? Careful, now.” He walks around to the side of her bed, peering down at her whilst fiddling with the glass on her bedside table. She’s never felt so naked in her entire life as she does right now.

“You know,” she blinks meekly, “you said you kill people—”

“—Bad people.” He interjects.

“Okay, well that still makes you a murderer… so pledging my soul to you, or whatever, just sounds like a really bad idea. I don’t get how this helps me at all—you can’t kill my boss.”

Sighing, he says, “I’m really losing my patience with you now. Get up,” authority in his voice as he grabs her upper arm and tugs, causing her legs to tangle with the sheets as she is torn from her position. Y/N yelps and instinctively shoots her other arm out for support, inadvertently punching him in the stomach. He lets out a disgruntled noise and pulls the hand off of his body immediately, dragging her with more force so she can stand upright.

“Ow!” Y/N cries, “I can’t stand on it.” Her face is crumpled, looking towards the floor and she feels his grip loosen as he recognises she’s hurt.

He sighs again and gets down on one knee, pulling her socked foot onto his thigh—albeit very gently. She wobbles and grips his shoulders.

The man rolls his eyes, “Should call you Bambi, can’t balance for the life of you.” He goads.

“W-what are you doing?”

He doesn’t reply, nudging her sock to reveal the swollen skin of her ankle and brushing his fingertips over it. Y/N feels an electric warmth spread up her leg and releases a breath as the pain slowly ebbs away.

“It’s not mended, but you won’t feel it anymore,” he says, standing up. Her eyes trail up to meet his, mouth agape as she puts her weight on her foot and registers the lack of strain.

“How did you do that?” She whispers.

He grins and wiggles his fingers, “Magic,” before he takes a hold of her elbow and they vanish.

They surface, and the building in which Y/N works looms over her ominously—the inevitable walk of shame taunting her and she can feel her brain start to whir; fight or flight program ready to boot up. Y/N spins, hoping to make a quick exit and return to her wallowing in self-pity, but there’s a hand on her elbow so she doesn’t get far at all.

“How did we get here?” She tries to shrug him off, “Let go.”

The man drops her elbow, “No please, Bambi?” He feigns hurt and tuts disapprovingly.

Y/N grumbles and rolls her eyes, “If you’re going to call me that, then I think it’s only fair that I get to call you something.”

“Call me Harry,” he says.

“That’s not what I meant!” Y/N grits, fighting the urge to stomp like a child.

“You didn’t specify.” Harry flashes a smug grin. She thinks the name is rather ordinary for a demon, but it’s pretty—like him, she supposes. He’s tall, and has tattoos, and paints his nails, and has soft-looking hair. Y/N catches herself and immediately feels silly.

Harry is watching her and suddenly the idea of going to work doesn’t feel so bad. “What are we doing here?” She sighs.

“We’re here to get rid of your problem. G’na glamour the building, make everyone forget, yeah? Take my arm.” He holds his forearm out and Y/N takes it unconvincingly.

“What do you mean, glamour? Is this dangerous? What if someone sees us?” She babbles, watching as Harry turns his full attention to the building. Y/N is too frazzled to notice the words he utters under his breath or that his eyes are cloaked in darkness once again, only vaguely picking up on the scent she’s quickly come to associate with the demon standing next to her. She can’t believe she’s actually referring to him as a demon; she wants to believe it’s all one, big, mean joke but he literally fucking teleported them here. Gosh—Y/N’s headache is debilitating at this point.

“As long as you keep holding on, no one will see us,” Harry assures, muttering a few more words before alerting Y/N, “I’m all done.”

“Done? But nothing happened.”

“Promise you, something happened,” he says. “Now everyone thinks you went home sick yesterday and are coming in late today. And the boss fell down the stairs of her own accord so she’ll be in bed for a couple of days, no lasting damage.”

“What about when they go home? Will they—”

Harry shakes his head vehemently, “What kind of help would that be, hm? Make them forget but only for a little bit, don’t be silly. No one will remember.”

She nods to herself, shaking her hands in front of her, “Okay,” breathing in slowly, deeply, trying to psyche herself up, “okay. What now?”

He nods at the building, “You’ve got work, no?”

Y/N splutters, “But I don’t have my stuff with me! I don’t even have my car, Harry, how will I get home? And I’m still in the clothes I wore yesterday, I’m a mess.” She looks down at herself, distressed, rubbing at her face which is still puffy from all the crying. Harry sighs, thinking that this human must be doing something wrong to be struggling in life this much.

“What time do you finish?”

“Five o’clock.”

He glances at the watch on his wrist. It’s twelve. “I guess I’ll meet you here, then. Try not to push anyone else down the stairs,” he mocks, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face.

Y/N scowls and starts to hesitantly walk into the office. She chances a look behind her just to see if he’s waving her off like a proud mother—but he has gone—and the only proof he was ever there hangs in the air, before the smell disappears too.

To say Y/N is overwhelmed would be an understatement. Walking into work being an easy task was exactly what she wanted and yet she can’t help but feel guilty, like she’s got this huge illegal secret. But what could she do about it anyway? It’s not like she’s going to phone the boss and say, Oh, by the way, I actually met you yesterday but I nearly killed you by pushing you down the stairs, so I went home crying, and I accidentally summoned a demon and he made you forget so there’s no harm done!

She would be fired on the spot. Or sent to an asylum.

But she can’t focus, and she thinks maybe she should be admitted to an asylum because now that she has time to think… What the fuck? Demons? Glamours? This was stuff from the TV, not real life. And yet Y/N had inadvertently brought it right to her doorstep, just by crying! It’s so silly but the anxiety is rising and Y/N’s palms are starting to sweat, and she hasn’t done a single thing since sitting at her desk (over half an hour ago) and, quite frankly, it’s pissing her off.

Imogen had brought her a tea which Y/N appreciates but only makes her more uneasy with the memory of yesterday. She can feel her eyes on her from across the office, concern clearly plastered over her usually bright face. Y/N meets her gaze and tries to give a reassuring smile that probably comes across as more of a grimace because Imogen is wheeling her way over on her office chair immediately.

“You okay, Y/N?” She asks, hesitantly.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine!” Y/N says a little too enthusiastically. “I’m just a little out of it today, sorry,” she fiddles with her fingers. Imogen looks her over a couple of times.

“I think you’re still sick, maybe you should go home,” Imogen smiles softly, eyes filled with worry.

“Oh no, really, I’m fine, Gen!” Maybe if she says it enough, it’ll become the truth. But as she stares back at Imogen she’s only really focused on the fact that her eyes aren’t clouding with dark shadows.

“You’ve made your lip bleed,” she points out, and Y/N notices the tang of blood on her tongue. She’s eating away at herself, literally—she licks it away quickly, embarrassed at her inability to keep composed.

Imogen stands, “Come on, let’s go to the bathroom—take a break, yeah?”

Y/N can only nod, even though she has just arrived at work, wiping her palms on her thighs before following Imogen to the toilets. She holds the heavy door open for Y/N as they go inside and Y/N immediately stumbles, holding in a gasp as she sees Harry leaning against the counters with his arms folded across his chest.

“Are you feeling dizzy?” Imogen asks, gently placing a hand on her back for support. Y/N barely registers the question, eyes locked with Harry as he smirks at her, clearly enjoying the bewilderment and turmoil he’s putting her through.

“Uh, a little bit, I think I need to sit down,” Y/N breathes, eyes flicking back and forth between Harry and Imogen, checking that Imogen definitely couldn’t see him.

“Come on,” she leads her to a stall, pushing the door open and closing the toilet seat cover for Y/N to sit on.

“Thank you, Gen, I—I think I just need a minute and then I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not sure, babe, you look rough.” She touches her forehead, “You’re burning up, Y/N, will you be safe to drive home?”

Y/N is still staring at Harry, “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she hates that he will have to take her home but she doesn’t want to explain to Imogen where her car is, “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll go and get you some nice, cold water,” she rubs Y/N’s knee comfortingly before leaving the bathroom. And Y/N is standing up instantly, albeit very wobbly.

“Harry!” She’s cross. “Why are you here?” He unfolds his arms and walks towards her, placing his hands on her shoulders and forcing her to sit back down. “Stop it! I didn’t even know demons existed twenty-four hours ago and now you’re fucking everywhere.”

“I know, Bambi. I’ll take you home,” he’s gentle, and it angers Y/N more but she’s exhausted—and when did she get so lightheaded? But she’s still aware enough to be agitated when she realises he called her Bambi despite Imogen saying her name in front of him.

“I don’t want you to,” she complains.

“I know.” He repeats.

Imogen comes back in suddenly and Y/N doesn’t think anything of it, assuming Harry is still invisible but she makes a confused noise, “Who are you?”

Harry only steps up to her and looks directly into her eyes, taking the bottle of water from her hand. “You don’t remember this. You escorted Y/N to her car because she wasn’t feeling well, and now you’re freshening up in the bathroom.”

And before Y/N can even try to shout at Harry for invading her friend’s head, he’s taking her wrist and they’re dissipating.

They reappear in her bedroom and Y/N stumbles her way into the bathroom, falling on her knees and resting her forehead on the toilet seat—she doesn’t think she’ll actually be sick but she needs to feel grounded. Trying to focus on her breathing and the cool feel of the plastic on her skin, Y/N closes her eyes and supposes she could fall asleep but then Harry (fucking Harry) steps around her and turns the shower on.

“Come on, Y/N, you’ll feel better,” he tries, his voice still disgustingly soft.

Y/N closes her eyes tighter, “I don’t need you here, Harry, go away.”

“Don’t be ungrateful,” he spits, immediately void of tenderness. “I didn’t have to bring you home, I could’ve left you stranded at work.”

“I’m only in this mess because of you! You’re the reason I didn’t have my car,” Y/N bites back.

Harry can’t be bothered to get into it now, “Get in the shower. I won’t tell you again.” He orders, before leaving the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. Y/N rolls her eyes but she stands up. Not because he told her to, but because she was going to shower anyway—she tells herself. There’s little energy left in her body and the thought of a bath is much nicer but she’d probably just fall asleep in it. So she takes off her nearly two-day-old clothing and lets out a little whine of relief before stepping under the hot stream and pulling across the shower curtain.

When she leaves the shower after fifteen—blissfully tranquil—minutes, she’s surprised to see one of her oversized sleep shirts and a towel on top of the toilet seat cover. Y/N grumbles under her breath at the nice gesture and scoffs at the lack of underwear he brought in with the shirt. “Pervert,” she mutters.

“I heard that,” Harry says from her bedroom, and she thinks she’d rather like to punch him. Quickly, she dries off and throws the shirt on before sitting on the toilet. It pools over her thighs. “You would’ve accused me of the same thing if I had gone through your drawers,” his voice is ice cold.

“I need underwear, I’m on my period, you dick,” Y/N says, patience worn thin. She hears him bang her drawers shut before the bathroom door is swung open and he throws the underwear in her general direction, eyes averted, “Oh please, I’m decent,” her voice is acidic and Harry’s anger is simmering as he looks at her, expression eerily unaffected.

“I preferred you when you were crying,” he hisses, before slamming the door closed.

Y/N is about ready to scream bloody murder and push Harry out of her window as she finishes up in the bathroom, grumbling away to herself. She’s grateful her tears have been replaced with rage, much less forlorn, she thinks. And she knows exactly what she’s going to say to him, and he’ll leave whether he likes it or not.

“Okay Harry, it’s been fun—” Y/N starts as she enters her bedroom, but she stops when she sees Harry lying on her bed, one arm behind his head with the other draped over his stomach. “Get up,” she grits, spotting the pillow Harry had first taken from her, lying by the door, before picking it up.

“What are you going to do with that?” He smirks, closing his eyes, looking ever so comfortable on her bed. Y/N climbs up next to him and brings the pillow down with as much force as she can muster. Harry barely releases a breath but his eyes shoot open. She hits him again, “Get out—” and again, “—of my—” and again, “—house! Get out!”

“You do that one more time…” Harry seethes, never moving a muscle. Y/N is rattled by just how rattled she feels by this man; sure that this anger is unmatched by anything she’s ever experienced, and her arms move before her brain does, whacking him again.

She barely sees him move but suddenly she’s on her back with her arms pinned above her head, nearly off the end of the bed. Harry is hovering over her, eyes pitch black, and Y/N’s own widen briefly in shock. She almost feels excitement bubble up in eliciting this reaction out of him, in winning their argument. Or so she thinks.

Y/N tries to kick at him, knee hitting his abdomen but he’s quick to sit on her thighs and she’s squirming desperately, an angry whine escaping her lips.

“Stop.” His voice is deep, authoritative. “Stop before I make you,” and Y/N’s breath catches as she stares, unblinking, up into his eyes. He leans down and grazes his lips over the shell of her ear. “This isn’t a game. Angering a demon on purpose is a very silly thing to do, Y/N.” She swallows, aware of the weight of his body on her legs and his mouth so close to her skin. “Assuming I won’t kill you just because I said I wouldn’t,” he whispers, the air hot against her neck. A noise gets caught in her throat.

She shakes her head, “Please don’t, I’m sorry.”

“Mmm, I thought so. You g’na stop being so petulant?”

Y/N nods, “Yes,” she exhales.

“Good. You gonna promise me your soul?”

Her head is so fuzzy she nearly agrees again but then her eyes shoot open, “No!” And she’s shaking her head violently. But he’s quick to grab her jaw. He forces her head to stop moving and he’s glaring at her so intensely that she thinks he might set her on fire.

“Calm down,” he removes his weight from her legs and sits to the side of her, bringing her arms down to rest on either side of her head. “You know, you didn’t even thank me for helping you. S’not very nice. And if you won’t pledge your soul to me then I suppose I’ll just have to take the glamour away.”

“Harry, No!” She gasps, all the anger she’d had completely dissipating and she wants so badly to be furious, but she can only panic. “Please don’t do that.”

“You’ll have to promise me something then.” She nods, “Never antagonise a demon like that ever again.”

Y/N sighs, relieved, “Like I’ll run into another one any time soon. I had managed to avoid them for over two decades.”

“We’re around more than you realise. I’m serious, Y/N. Promise me, or I’ll make everyone remember. It really doesn’t affect me.”

“I promise,” she huffs.

He slowly releases his grip from her wrists, seemingly satisfied. “Come on—into bed,” Harry pries her sheets back.

“But it’s like two p.m.”

“Yeah, and you’ve had a tough few days believing in demons and whatnot, so it’s time for bed.”

She finds herself doing what he says, sitting up and climbing under her sheets, “I can’t believe I’m actually listening to you.”

“I can.” He watches to make sure she lies down properly before making his way towards the door. “I’ll know if you break your promise,” he says, pausing in the doorway, broad back facing her. He’s gone before Y/N can ask how, but a deep-rooted sense of dread settles in her stomach as if she has made a deal with the devil. And she supposes that she very well might have done.

Y/N’s refusal to pledge her soul really doesn't affect Harry in the slightest; demons could survive on whatever they chose to. Harry has always chosen to reap souls after their pledgers have passed away, usually from natural causes. Or he’ll take them from whichever prick he deems evil enough to snuff out of existence. But if he decides tomorrow that he wants to suck every last drop of blood from his victims to sustain himself instead, then his body would cope just fine. Not that Harry would ever enjoy that. He could choose not to eat or drink at all if he really wanted to, but he’d tried that once when he’d had to take care of his mother as a child, and it was the most miserable week ever. He’d been far too wired to think about stopping for himself, but once she started feeling better he realised how much he’d missed food. Harry found, after years of experimenting, that culling souls is the most effective way of squashing the demon guilt he unnaturally feels, whilst also maintaining his demonic capacity.

He decides to walk, needing the fresh air. He admittedly feels a little silly for his behaviour, pinning Y/N down like that and causing her heart to nearly beat out of her chest. He just wasn’t expecting an outburst like that from her; she’d been so distraught when they’d first met—a weepy thing. And the next thing he knows, she's whacking him about with a pillow—not menacing in the slightest but he’ll admit it did take him by surprise. But she needed to be scared of him, scared of his species; it's easy to trust them in their human vessels but they are in no way similar other than visually. That’s how he justifies behaving the way he did. And maybe that’s why he feels the need to get outside, to let the cold breeze shock him. To really register what the fuck is going on.

Harry hasn’t given himself the time to question how he was summoned by someone who doesn’t know how to do it, and he’s tried hard to believe that she was lying but how could she be? How could she be when he’d appeared in that chair and she was sobbing with her head in her hands; no candles, no books, no incantations, nothing? It feels like the start of something Harry has no interest in being involved with, which is why looking back, he’s very relieved that the reason for her crying was so ridiculously simple, despite his reaction suggesting otherwise. He had felt inconvenienced and undervalued when she’d told him her problem; another job he was extremely overqualified to deal with, but now he thinks maybe it's a blessing that it wasn’t something worse. If she’d wanted someone dead then he might’ve been more concerned about her inadvertent summoning, but perhaps this is a one-off and he’ll never hear from her again.

He really hopes that will be the case.

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 11- Smile

FICTOBER Prompts/Masterlist

Patreon

1.3k

Warnings- incubus/succubus, smut, threesome mention/ sex w other people mention, mmf/ffm mention, demons, blood, halloween etc

“It’s never a good thing when you smile like that…” Y/N whispered as she tugged her partner’s arm towards her, eyes narrowed in humorous speculation as she watched his smirk grow. The club was dark and foggy from that god awful fog machine the hired DJ had brought, the scents mixing in the room making her want to plug her nose. 

Halloween made it much easier for them to be their authentic selves. Harry and Y/N often had to hide their eyes, curtain them with human presenting ones when they went out to search for trouble. Tonight, Halloween night, had to be the best of the year. Mischief and sex, costumes galore, sin city personified. Their black eyes were assumed contacts, Y/N’s sharp black nails dragging over the front of Harry’s chest. A short black skirt barely covered her thighs and a lacy black corset top was doing little to hide her swirls of black markings down her neck and back. Harry’s were slightly more hidden, but his form always got attention. It’s what made them so good at what they did. 

Succubus and Incubus. 

“It’s a good thing you love to be bad, isn’t it my love?”

Y/N chuckled, trailing her fingers up his bare skin and catching his jaw, nails digging into the skin as she turned it back towards him. “What’s the point of wearing a shirt if you’re barely going to button it, hm?” She squeezed his face, her own saucy smile rising on her lips. “Who’s caught your eye, darling? Someone pretty that we can feed on?” Her eyes met his, reading that he had done exactly that. 

When they normally went on the prowl, they’d take their time- but it was like a buffet tonight. People ready and willing, eyeing both of them up. They were made for pure sexual attraction, humans being drawn to them like a magic spell as their energy infiltrated a space. To be chosen by both of them? The human would have stories for days. Being in a threesome with two of the best looking people they’d ever seen, bragging rights for days. They wouldn’t miss the blood that either of them took, nor would they mind their sexual energy being feasted on. For humans, it was a magical experience. No loss, no hurt, only one of the most pleasurable and euphoric experiences of their lives. The haze would follow them for days and they’d feel their touches for weeks on end, but it wasn’t harmful. Wistful, perhaps.

 The only drawback? No one would ever compare. 

They’d search the world for a human who’s cock was able to press right into that spot like Harry’s had, someone’s tongue that swirled around their most sensitive bit the way Y/N’s did, desperate for a taste of either of them, but they wouldn’t. Not unless they came about another of their kind. 

Their routine varied, as Harry claimed that ‘Variety is the spice of the afterlife’. Sometimes her chose, sometimes she did. It wasn’t like there was a lack of interested participants who approached them either. But Halloween was a night that all sorts of guidelines were lifted, and their rule for only having one encounter a day was lifted. With the ability to keep the spread of diseases, they didn’t have to wait to leave from one club to another, working on their third now. The high was lifting them up, their first two playmates safely tucked in cabs to get back home and surely sleeping off the exhaustion they had given them. 

“Show me, H. I chose last time, so it’s your turn now.” She watched his eyes flutter shut as she dragged her nails back down his throat to rest at his chest, a subtle growl leaving his throat. He loved pain, loved her nails, and his one and only soul mate. The sex with others was fun and games, a way to provide energy, but his real lifeforce was loving his sweet goddess. No one would ever compare to her, to the way she made him feel both inside and out of the bedroom. 

There was a difference between fucking for fun and for their needs, versus the love they made to one another. Their lovemaking varied between soft, soppy morning sex to bloody, rough, primal sex. There was no doubting what they preferred, and it was always each other. His arm wrapped around her waist, swinging her swiftly in front of him as he dipped his face to press cheek to cheek. “The one in the little devil costume.” He murmured, brushing his cock against her ass. “We did an angel earlier, but I’d like to see what the little devil has in store. Bet it’ll be a lot of fun, don’t you think?” He brushed his lips against her cheek, pecking it lightly. “Messy girl. Still have a bit of blood on you.” Swiftly, his tongue licked against the corner of her lips and hummed before tightening his grip on her. “We’re only halfway through the night. Already getting messy for me?” He clicked his tongue at her, feeling her eye roll despite knowing her arousal was at the top. 

“It’s the one day we can be. I can get blood all over my outfit and no one will blink an eye, think m’just a sexy creature.” She laughed, turning in his strong arms to peer up at him. “You know how much I love a mess, but you’re worse than me, aren’t you?” Her thumb was gentle now, brushing his bottom lip. It was still swollen and some of her lipstick stained them a cherry red, enhancing his pale skin even more. His clean shaven jaw was sharp as a tack and his white teeth tried to nip at the pad of her thumb playfully, but she was too quick. Her man was too handsome for his own good. “Mm… I know you love to bury your tongue in holes, any of them, and get all wet.” She had seen it firsthand just 30 minutes ago, the woman writhing under them as Y/N sat pretty on her face and watched Harry lose himself in the taste of their new friend.  “I can still smell that girl on you. She was a fun one, wasn’t she? Had to revoke those wings as soon as you touched her.” She purred, wrapping an arm over his neck. “And you love when they choke on your cock. The other boy I chose did such a nice job taking you into his throat, hm? Amazed him a little with how much you can cum… All over his face, and his ass too.  So don’t tease when you’re just as bad as me.” Her voice floated to him, making him groan. His cock was against her tummy this time, perpetually hard and her words only made it worse. “And if you want to take care of the hard time you’re currently having, throbbing against me, you better go pick up our playmate and bring them back to me.” Her hand slipped rom his neck, dow between them and cupping his erection. 

His cock was her favorite and alway would be. Perfectly thick and curved, she’d never met a person who didn’t like it, but to her it was perfection. Her prized possession. Having a soulbond with someone who pressed right where she needed, that filled her up to the brim and fucked her good enough to have her growling was all she needed.  Leaning up, her lips pressed against his own with a soft ‘pop’ as she pulled away, not getting too carried away yet. “Go on, pretty boy. Since you know how much I love to be bad… get us a slice of our trouble for the night. We’ve got so many more friends to meet.”

[gurugirl]

Tales From the Modern Incubus | Part 20*

Summary: THE RITUAL - Harry does what he was born to do and Y/n finally sees his demonic form which is beautiful and frightening.

A/n: Remember, this is demon/incubus!Harry, so there may be some triggering topics. Please read all warnings in the TFMI Masterlist before continuing. This is all just smut really so be warned. 5k words

Warning: Smut, religious themes, talks of demonic powers, talk of blood, biting, sacreligious prayer, pain kink, breeding kink

Character List

Harry had you lie on the bed at the center. He stood at the foot of the bed and looked down at you with a grin that would have looked evil to anyone not aware of what was going on. His demon features were beginning to surface. His face was shadowed, his eyes were black, and you swore when he licked his lips his tongue looked like it had been dipped in blood. Harry’s breaths were deep and animalistic, reminding you of the rattled breaths from Satan. He appeared taller, and then when he threw his head back and lifted his arms he began to speak Enochian in a voice not his own. Or at least a voice you hadn’t heard come from him before.

It startled you at first, the way his voice was guttural and reverberated deeply around him. He didn’t sound human. But of course, Harry wasn’t human. Not fully. The tattoos on his body looked as if they were beginning to glow and you realized that blood was dripping from the edges of his mouth as he moved his lips.

Harry’s black wings appeared suddenly, taking up the space around him and nearly reaching the high ceiling. A steamy cloud in grey floated above him and began to disperse toward your space on the bed. The cloud hovered and Harry’s chanting grew darker and louder and the sound of thunder rattled the windows and shook the bed.

You kept your eyes on Harry as he grew large. The glowing tattoos glittered and his teeth looked sharp, maybe like something you’d imagine a vampire’s teeth to look like.

You tried to take a breath but you realized his chant and the ritual he had begun placed you in a trance. You were aware but you were unable to speak or breathe or blink. Your lungs felt like they needed air but then you felt your limbs begin to tingle.

Without even seeing Harry move he was suddenly above you, his face inches from yours and his once dark eyes were now red like his mouth full of blood. You weren’t scared but you were in awe. His body had grown and his wings were larger than the bed you were on. A tale behind him whipped to the side and the steamy fog that had floated over your body had now taken up the space of the ceiling completely so that all you could see was the cloudy grey fog above.

Harry was beautiful. Breathtaking. You now could see it with your own eyes that he was part of a lineage of angels and demons that were created to be perfect. But you couldn’t voice this to him. You were stuck. You were unable to move.

Harry’s voice filled your head, “You’re perfect,” he said without moving his mouth. And you were compelled to part your lips with your eyes locked on his. You held your mouth open and the blood in Harry’s mouth was poured into your own. It tasted like metal and burnt wood. Without even swallowing the liquid drew down your throat and into your tummy and Harry’s hand grasped your jaw.

You realized his nails were digging into your skin when you felt the pinch of it, but it only made you more excited. His mouth dropped to your neck and you felt his sharp teeth puncture your skin and he pulled at your flesh to drink your blood.

The feeling of it made you dizzy, woozy, hot, aroused. Your head was filled with images of snakes slithering in and out of a circle of mud and then you saw an angel in white and a demon in black on either side of the circle of wet earth. They were chanting the same thing Harry had been. The grey sky above was a cloud that began to lower and thunder shook the ground.

When Harry removed his mouth from your neck your head cleared and you saw him again, above you but it felt like a dream. He began to move down your body and his wings folded back into his spine with a crunching echo. Harry’s nails gently scraped your flesh as he lowered himself. He never removed his eyes from yours.

Unable to move or breathe or speak you watched him as he placed his big palms over your tummy and continued his incantation. You knew the words he was speaking were a summons of fertility and protection. You could feel your heart pounding and your body reacted to his touch and his words with need and desire.

Harry’s gaze remained locked on yours when he brought his hands down over your hips and then to the warmest, softest spot between your legs, his chants slowing and softening.

You felt your insides heat up and burn when he pushed his fingers into your entrance and the bed shook, the deafening sound of thunder crashing around you. Harry’s fingers were inside of you and you could feel the sting of his nails dragging through you at the same time that you felt the pressure of your orgasm. It was as if you went from being aroused to being penetrated, and in mere seconds an orgasm was about to burst from your veins. It was not like anything you’d ever experienced but your body was not in your control. Harry was the master of you at that moment. He was willing an orgasm out of you. But you allowed it. You’d given him permission and full control of your body and its response.

The lava that filled your lungs and your veins and your insides began to surge out of your body and into Harry’s hand. You couldn’t moan or shout or reach for him for grounding as you came with a burst of light and thunder shaking the world. Your eyes went dark and you saw a creature in your vision. He had three heads and he held a book. One of the heads cried in sorrow, the other laughed maniacally, and the third recited from the book he held and watched you intently.

Shaken back to your present you opened your eyes and Harry was in his normal form, the one you’d been used to, and sat in between your legs naked and watching you silently. The room was calm and noiseless. The fog was gone. The sound of thunder had disappeared and now you could breathe, pulling air into your lungs, and feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“Harry?” You spoke with a shaky breath and Harry smiled as he leaned over you and kissed you hard. You pulled your arms up and around his back and he cupped your face, holding your head close to him.

Harry broke from the kiss and delicately rubbed a thumb over your face, “You’re okay. I needed to call on the spirits to watch, to witness what I’m going to do to you. They’re here but you can’t see them anymore. Are you ready, my love?”

You nodded. You knew that this would be part of the ritual. Harry had prepared you for it beforehand. He explained you’d see things that didn’t make sense and his form would change and then that during the performance you’d be watched as he filled you with his fertile seed and made you pregnant.

Harry moved back down your body and put his face right over your labia, licking upward and closed his eyes, “Praise be to The Almighty for his creation, this heady essence,” he looked at you and kissed your pussy before licking into your crease again and continuing his prayer of thanks, “Thanks to God for this willing soul and body to home the heir of an incubus. The womb of my choice before me is a gift,” another lick of his tongue into your arousal coating his mouth, “one I will happily receive and will complete my duty to maintain the balance The Almighty has required. Praise and thanks are due to God, The Almighty for making this creation. Amen.”

You scrunched your brow as you looked at Harry. Praying to God?

Harry grinned as he saw the look on your face, “Why not? He is the creator. It’s because of him that this is possible at all. Your body,” Harry spoke in a raspy voice as he smoothed his hands up from your thighs to your hips, “your womb… these tits,” he brushed the tips of his fingers over the peeks of your nipples, “the breath in your lungs, the pout on these lips,” he lowered his mouth to kiss yours before situating himself between your legs, “this very moment, your need, your smell, your soul… it’s all here for me to defile. Praise God,” Harry laughed at his sacrilegious spiel. You laughed.

“Shall we begin?” Harry spoke as he hovered over you, positioning your body under him with his cock pressed at your opening.

You nodded and Harry kept his eyes on yours as he finally pushed his bulbous crown into your entrance, his plunge inward slicing into your walls and pushing them apart with his big demon cock. You gasped at the same time Harry did. And you knew this was it. Harry would need to put on a bit of a show for the spirits who were present. It was part of the ancient promise he made long ago and something he rather enjoyed doing. But now, being able to do it with you would be something inexplicable. He was ready to fuck his heir into you, to answer his calling.

Harry groaned deeply as he began to stuff himself into you further. His big cock was overwhelming your insides. You always knew he was big and he always felt big inside of you but you never had trouble taking him. But now, the width and his length felt even more sizable. You weren’t sure if his cock was actually larger or if that was just part of how it felt to be on the receiving end of the impregnation ritual.

You cried out when his cock slipped out then he forced it back in. Your body jolted upward and Harry repeated his heavy thrusts. Over and over again your body was rocked upward and the bed, which was sturdy and seemed like it wouldn’t be easily moved, was shaking and dipping under Harry’s intense pounding. It felt like you’d split in two.

You were wet in a way that seemed impossible, though, and it created a slippery hole for Harry’s big cock. Your body was enjoying the intrusion, the way you were being spread apart, the ache, the pinch of pain.

Harry’s muscles flexed and his body worked his prick in and out of you with astonishing strength. Your mind wandered for a moment to what a human woman would have felt when Harry was doing this. It must have been far more painful because if you were feeling the pain, certainly a human woman would feel it much worse. And you enjoyed a bit of pain.

You sucked in a sharp breath when Harry slowed his movement after grinding himself in so deep you felt it in your stomach. He watched himself disappear into you and the way your pussy gripped around him. It was beautiful. He groaned in a laugh, “Look at this. See how you take it.”

You pushed yourself up to look down at where you were connected and you gasped in surprise, your eyes widening. You looked up to Harry’s face and then back down to where his cock was moving into you. He was bigger. His cock was so large and you looked so small in comparison.

“It’s so big. Why?” You moaned your words as Harry filled you with his fleshy and thick cock over and over again.

Harry brought a hand down to your pussy and pressed his fingers to your labia where you were gripping him as he slicked himself inward, “It just happens. When it’s time for my semen to enter a womb it makes my cock swell and grow. Even more than it does normally.”

“Oohh… it’s so thick…” you cooed looking from where his dick was shiny and covered in you up to his face, “… this is what it looks like when you breed someone?”

Harry groaned and moved his hands upward to your tits, “Yes. Fuck baby… gonna fill you up and breed your cunt.”

You keened at his words and the way he felt moving into you. You imagined yourself carrying Harry’s heir. Your heir. Your belly would grow and you’d become a mom.

You’d be a mother to a baby. A mother.

You suddenly felt the tiniest bit of worry. You knew what you were getting into but at that moment, things were very real. Harry was going to get you pregnant. The ritual had begun, but that didn’t mean your mind didn’t wander.

Harry slowed down a little and repositioned so he was laying over your body, his face inches above yours. He put his hands up and cradled the back of your head and sloppily pushed in and pulled back with languid and slow strokes.

“Y/n… I can hear those doubts. But I love you. You're my mate. My only one. I will do everything I can to make this perfect for you. I’ll serve you,” he poked deep into your insides as he continued, “I’ll worship you, take care of everything you need and want. You won’t have to lift a single finger,” the noise of Harry’s heavy prick grinding into you squelched as he continued gently rocking into you, “You’re my whole world. My queen. My angel,” he looked down at you as he spoke, “Don’t worry about anything… my little lemon love,” he gasped a breath at how his cock was squeezed and coated by you.

You laughed at his use of the nickname and nodded, “I love you, Harry. This feels so good… ahhhh…” you lifted your head upward to connect your lips to Harry’s. You wanted to feel him on your mouth and in your pussy at the same time. His tongue licking into your mouth, and his cock thrusting through your walls.

Harry moaned into your sweet mouth. He was in his element. This was when his incubus nature could really shine. He would fuck you over and over and over again this night. He would come inside of you many times and impregnate you.

Normally, during the ritual, he’d fuck and come once. It was all that was required. But sometimes, he felt like he needed to really solidify his ability and soothe his urge. There were times in the past when a female was particularly enticing and her smell was too delicious to just have one time during impregnation. Harry had a primal side afterall. He’d been fucking since the middle stone ages. Things were different then and his experiences had evolved over time. Back then he didn’t take a lot of time or care to impregnate. But as he aged and learned and humanity influenced him in his quest he realized he’d been missing out on the way it could be a joy to impregnate. Especially certain women.

Some women would get the full experience, others would just get pregnant. But Harry loved showing women a good time during the ritual. He liked giving pleasure, he learned. Because the response was much better and it fed his ego. He liked being good at what he did.

And with you, well there was no question about what kind of experience he’d give you. Not only could you handle him better than any human, but he was also obsessed with you and your scent and he loved making you come. Because he felt it when you came. Having an orgasm with his bonded mate was something on a different level. He felt your orgasm in his body and you felt his. There was nothing like it. Nothing.

He'd been having sex for thousands of years but you were the first he’d experienced bonded sex with and it changed him the first time he felt it. If he thought he was obsessed with sex before, it was nothing like what he needed now. But it was you he was obsessed with.

And you did feel so deeply for him and you knew it was different. This was going to change everything but you could set aside your worry because Harry would be with you in this.

The lights in the chandelier began to flicker and the room became thick with his scent and yours. Your senses were suddenly on fire. Every single movement that Harry made was felt and you sensed his body and the pleasure coursing through his veins searing into your own. The increased speed of his thrusts had you coughing out grunts when he rammed in deeply.

“Oh! Harry! I’m… fuck!” Your stomach boiled and your slickness was drenching everything under you. Harry set his eyes on yours and the look on his face was lust and love and need.

“Feel it, my love. Feel yourself open up to allow your body to accept getting filled with my sperm. It’s coming… My cock is pushing you open,” Harry grunted his words and moaned loudly, deeply.

You felt something being stuffed behind your head and opened your eyes again, Harry had angled you upward so you could see it. So you could watch as he filled you up and very moment you’d become pregnant. He didn’t need to say that’s what he was doing. You could hear his filthy thoughts.

You watched the carnal act happening between your legs. Everything was wet. The hair at the base of Harry’s dick was drenched in you, the sound of his cock sinking into you, the way cool air hit your bum and pussy when Harry reared back for a moment before burying himself back in… and the scent. Your sense of smell had always been very good but you loved the way you smelled when you were turned on mixed with Harry’s sweat.

Harry was huffing and grunting as he rutted into you. You could feel his orgasm approaching just as yours was. You gasped at the ache it caused you, he was holding it back so he could come with you and the hint of pain in his balls could be felt inside of you.

“Ah… fuck Harry, I’m coming…” you whined as you felt your pussy pulse and grip around his thick cock and Harry wailed out loudly as he finally poured his seed into you. He didn’t stop his heavy thrusts as he spurted hot come into your body, ramming himself in as deeply as he could go, coating your insides and shivering with the feel of your orgasm and his mixed in blissfully.

You felt like your heart stopped beating as you came. Your insides opened for him and your walls swallowed all that he gave you. The thick air choked your lungs and you cried out Harry’s name over and over again as if the words were oxygen for you.

When Harry couldn’t continue stuffing himself into you any deeper he stilled his hips and his labored breathing was heard in the room. You were spent. But it wasn’t over yet.

The orgasm was the beginning of the impregnation ritual. Now Harry’s cock would stay inside of you, keeping his seed pressed deeply in, his slit would continue to leak more come as your body drank it in. He explained to you that it would come after the orgasm.

Harry lowered himself over you and took your hand in his, moving your arm upward and bending it at the elbow, and kissed your lips. His cock was still hard and you could feel him continuing to pulse and twitch inside of you as he continued to drain himself. You could feel Harry’s ecstasy the whole time. He’d already come but his body was still experiencing the euphoria of the orgasm as his body released everything into you.

His hot mouth covered yours as he licked and kissed you. He squeezed your hand and brought his other hand under your head with his lips still on you.

It was simply erotic and intimate. There could be no other way to describe the moments that followed your orgasms. You were both reeling from the deliciousness but still connected and still in the moment. Still feeling everything around and inside of you.

“You’re gonna be a mommy, Y/n…” Harry spoke against your lips in a deep voice before he continued kissing you wetly.

You moaned and scratched your fingers down the expanse of his back with your free hand. You were gonna be a mom. Harry’s sperm would fill you up and impregnate you. Soon you’d be carrying his heir. Your heir.

Suddenly the lights that had been flickering went out and the row of candles over the mantle of the fireplace was all that was left to light the room.

You felt wind surround your body and Harry’s and then a low howl sounded in the room before the lights came back on and the room was still and quiet.

Harry backed away from the kiss and looked down at you with a soft smile and lidded eyes, “Baby… how do you feel?”

He kept your hand in his and the hand behind your head that cradled your cranium was rubbing at your scalp.

You smoothed your hand upward to his shoulders and smiled, “So good. Is it… is it done?”

Harry’s bright green eyes were soft and searching your face as he nodded, “Yes. The spirits have left and now you’re carrying my heir. Our heir.”

The ritual was complete the first time Harry came inside of you that night. But he took advantage of his state all night. You two rested between orgasms but he made sure that every time he came he was pumping his come inside your pussy, “Just to be sure,” he said. Though you both knew it was done, he loved filling your cunt with his warm come.

And you really wanted to know what it was like to have him in your mouth in his current state. Harry was licking down your body and had just dipped his tongue into your belly button when you sat up and pushed your fingers into his hair and lifted his head, “Let me have you in my mouth.”

Harry quickly fell to his back, put his hands behind his head, and spread his legs for you. You climbed between his thighs and grinned at him as you kneeled down and licked his tip, “Gonna try to take you in all the way,” you whispered as you eyed his massive cock. Harry was breathing heavily through his nose as he watched you push your lips to the side of his length and sponged soft kisses upward.

But then you moved your eyes back up to look at Harry and began to drag your teeth along his hard cock. Harry’s mouth dropped open as he watched you.

You licked with your tongue and then scraped with your teeth lightly along his tender skin. Harry panted out a whine and then spread his thighs apart further as he lifted himself to see better.

“Your heart,” you mumbled your words over his shaft, “your spirit, your heir,” you licked upward and then lowered back down to his base, “your come, your cock, your body…” baring your teeth you followed the path you’d just licked with your teeth until you reached his frenulum, “all belong to me now. You’re mine.”

Harry gasped and let out a breathy high-pitched moan as you opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around his tip, lapping his salty slit and then using your teeth on the underside of his tip, pressing into his frenulum.

You lowered yourself and tasted your arousal all over him. His cock was coated in your juices, though it had dried a little because he’d been eating you out and licking your body before you’d gotten to this point.

You sucked him in and opened your mouth wide to get deeper as you suctioned as hard as you could. You weren’t too worried about your teeth getting in the way. It was going to be impossible not to have some teeth action with how wide he was. But you could tell already he didn’t care.

Harry was mumbling and panting as he watched you work. You pushed yourself down further and felt his tip reach the back of your throat but you wanted to take all of him.

You put your eyes back on his and swallowed over his tip as your teeth were pinching him just enough to have him squirm and whimper. This pleased you.

Even though he was so big at the moment (big in general but especially large for the ritual) you realized you could bring him into your throat and push down until your lips met the thatch of hair at his base. You liked it. You did have to pull up to get air more often but this was your best work.

“Fuuuckk… angel…” Harry was unable to make sense of much of his mumbled words and choked moans, but you heard his praises loud and clear as you glided your mouth and throat over him.

Before he could come you slowed your motions. You had drool dripping off from your chin and Harry’s face was pink and his deep breaths were ragged. You traced your teeth up his length and ghosted them over his tip and Harry grunted as he quickly sat up.

It happened so fast his motions as he reached for you and dragged you into his lap before plunging himself into your slick pussy. He coughed out a loud moan and came inside of you, his face twisting up in agonizing delight. He told you he only wanted to come inside of your pussy all night and he meant it. You felt him flood your walls and you put your hands around the back of his neck and moaned praises to him, “Fill me up. I love it, Harry.”

And you paused suddenly as Harry was releasing into you and something came over you to call him something you’d never called him before. Something you’d had no interest in before that moment, but now it seemed in context to what was happening, “Give me your babies, Daddy.”

Harry clenched his jaw and sputtered out a curse as he smashed his lips to yours and bucked upward into you a few more times.

“Fuck, angel… You’re gonna make me a Daddy, huh?” Harry’s rough laugh was deep and he kept kissing you as he spoke his words.

Technically, Harry was already a dad. He’d sired many babies to many women over his lifetime. But this time he was going to be a dad. He would be a father to this heir because it was with his bonded mate.

“Yes, you want that?” Your words were muffled as he continued pressing his lips to yours.

“Fuck yes. Daddy wants to give you so many babies…” Harry was breathless when he spoke but you laughed at that. You weren’t sure you wanted so many babies, but you could start with the one.

When Harry finished pumping into you he laid you back and continued where he left off before you went down on him. Kissing down from your jaw to your breasts and to your belly button, and then put his lips on your pussy and drew into his mouth his come that dripped from you.

He pushed himself up to hover over you and you opened your mouth wide as he spat his come onto your tongue. He watched you swallow it and smiled down at you, “I love you.”

Harry called for room service. Yes, of course, Satan’s manor had staff. It was a little like a hotel. But the only people allowed to stay were those he specifically invited.

And once again, the food was delightful. Harry wanted to make sure you were fed and full of more than just himself.

You two lazed on the bed eating and drinking wearing nothing but sweat and smiles.

Harry’s wicked smirk got your attention, though, as you licked cream from your fingers and you squinted at him, already knowing his thoughts.

“You’re a pervert, Mr. Styles.”

Harry licked his lips and sat up, his heavy cock still hard and hanging between his legs.

“I can’t argue with that assessment,” he said when he began to crawl over you. He lowered his face and sniffed upward from your hips to your breasts and up to your neck before licking and biting your skin.

You laughed when his force pushed you down and the plate you’d just been eating from fell from your lap and spilled the cake onto the bed next to your hip.

Harry pushed your legs apart and glass crashed to the floor when your knee hit the tray and dipped into the bowl of fruit, the sweet frosting from the cake smearing onto the skin of your upper thigh.

But you didn’t care about any of that. You were with the man of your dreams. The one who’d show you everything there was to know. The one you’d be with for all time. The one you shared your heart with. The one who loved you unconditionally and without question. He filled your heart and your soul and your body so completely that you’d never feel alone or afraid again.

And it was just the beginning of everything.

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[daaydreamy]

https://at.tumblr.com/daaydreamy/thinking-abt-yn-and-subrry-having-fun-with/2u1gkbjs8gve

Bestie make a blurb about this rn😡🔫

forgive me, father, for i have sinned

summary: purity is sweet.

warnings: coarse language, smut, f/m/m threesome, anal fingering (m receiving), oral (m receiving)

pairings: harry styles x fem!reader x male!oc

•••

Angels are so sweet.

So soft and smooth, so innocent and pure. Their lips practically taste like sugar and feeling your skin against theirs can make you elated. They’re so fun to ruin, so fun to share your sin with. Knowing your sin is bleeding into their blood is so satisfactory. The way they moan and whine so sinfully is so utterly delicious, and even the way they look makes you hungry. Seeing their precious wings tucked underneath them and the dark bruises on their hips is enough to make your toes curl.

“Can I? Please?” Harry looked up at the other angel he and Y/N had with them, looking utterly fucked out as he looked into the angel’s bright eyes. Alexander looked down at Harry, uncertainty in his eyes, and he instead looked over at Y/N. She looked back at him and her lips tugged up at the corners, finding how he looked to her, someone who he was supposed to avoid and not let himself get lost in, somewhat amusing.

“Do you want his mouth on you, hm? It’s all your choice, lovely. He’ll make you feel good, considering how filthy his mouth is.” Y/N said amidst Harry’s loud whines and moans, which only grew louder because she was talking as if he wasn’t even there, despite her fucking her fingers into him repeatedly, her other hand gripping one of his hips tightly, tight enough to form bruises he would see afterwards. Harry’s head was now buried in Alexander’s thigh, his mouth feeling so, so empty.

“Y-yeah, I’d like that.” Y/N could see Alexander visibly relax, looking down at Harry, only to see him already looking up at Alexander. He nodded at Harry and he was so eager, spreading Alexander’s thighs a little further and using his skillful tongue to lick at him. Alexander’s hand immediately found its way to Harry’s soft curls, letting out a soft moan.

Harry was so satisfied. It felt like he was in a dream, all hazy and unsure if everything was real or not. The feeling of Alexander’s fingers gripping and pulling at his hair, Y/N’s nails digging into his soft hips, the pleased sounds Alexander kept letting out, Y/N’s filthy, filthy words—it was driving him crazy. So insane.

a/n: sorry i think i got too carried away 😥

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[muffindaddystyles]

Harry’s an asshole considering the genre of creature he’s and Y/N’s a sweetheart (continuous one shots)

Word Count: 1.2k.

Authors Note: These will be short for the sanity of my mental health. I’m trying to write after 6months of hell. Please, do appreciate my effort by reblogging and leaving feedbacks.

KEEP ON SENDING DEMONRRY IDEAS AND REQ!!

† †

Blaring shriek whistles away with a celestial energy as the bullet train passes by in it’s full speed. Y/N pules indolently. Her joints feels lit on fire. Her head spinning and her vision blurry from her cry-session before. Her soul senseless to the happenings that’s taking behind her back in that shady corner of the tube’s stairs.

A man crying for help. Choking onto breath as his skin takes a colour of darkness. Eyeballs rolling back to prominent just the whites in them. Y/N’s ears perks up at the eerie scratching noise of nails raking down the grubby wall but her brain ignores it, makes it fly over her head.

She feels the same. Flying over the gates of heaven, candy clouds and glittery rainbows invades her all around.

“Sleep little baby.”

“The little baby doesn’t want to sleep.”

“The jumbie will eat him.”

Y/N sing-songs the lullaby her mother used to hum to her. It used to creep her in her childhood. The thought of a demon named Jumbie breaking into her home and eating her alive used to have her pants wet. But, now as she giggles the lullaby out. Capering and swaying from one feet to another all while hanging at the edge of the platform. It feels calm, numbing to her feelings and chaos whirling inside her.

Her sweet voice that of a siren bounces against the murky floors of the tube catching the attention of a creature that had their eyes already fixated on the human while they siphoned a soul that was meant for hell.

“The soucouyant will suck his blood and the witch—-“ Y/N’s intoxicated eyes shutter opens wide awake, her neck put at a weird angle and her arms stuck above her hip while she screams at the top of her lungs from the fear of getting her skull cracked against the metal frame of speedy passing train - but - there’s someone whose burning grip on her arm keeps her safe from falling and both giving her a heart-attack by not letting her move away from her death itself.

From her clumsiness and stupidness she was about to come under the train.

“You fucking twat!” Y/N squeaks out a hiss when a furious crotchety voice boomed almost quaking the walls on their spot, “Dumb fucking humans.” That just confuses Y/N more but just like any other thing, this also flies over her head and all she does when the adrenalin of dying pacifies down in her veins is that she grins up at whoever just shouted at her.

That grin flatters. The man in his twenties. Tall enough for her to look like a pea infront of him. With sensual pastoral eyes. Cinnamon chocolaty curls. Handsome, clean-shaved face and a jaw carved out of white stone is burning her alive with his intense angry glare.

Harry’s outraged with annoyance that because of this girl he had to let a foul soul slip from his hand.

He did an Angels work by protecting her. What a dumb fucking donkey he’s to be rescuing a human. He grumps to himself. Regretting to go out his way. His demon-ly ways.

He was unable to resist. When his eyes caught a girl in sheer white frock, dancing and signing her heart out - his rotten fingers slipped away from around the corrupt man’s throat. When her black leather jacket fell first on the train tracks his instincts were quick to leap in and pull her back but make her lick the taste of her own stupid medicine cruelly.

Why’s he feeling awful under her soft gaze!? What the fucks wrong with you? You fucking dog of Lucifer!?!?!?!!!!

Harry’s screaming internally at himself. Her bright soft aura almost fooled him to think she was an Angel. The pinks of her eyes making her seem high on the heavens water.

His grip tightens, rather protectively than to hurt her to get his revenge out of annoyance and he glowers his own hand as if to scold it.

“Youuu fuckin’ twattt!” Y/N giggles hysterically mimicking his northern accent with all of the dramatics and twists of mouth, “Oi what was that for!?” Y/N huffs stumbling backwards as Harry flicks her on forehead. He actually wanted to convert her into a mouse so she would be running around this awfully nasty train tube, slipping onto the gutter murk and trying to save herself from getting squished under human boots, for that she looks like a person who’s a clean freak.

Harry turns away from her with an irate roll of his mean eyes and Y/N gasps grumpily, “Oi!” She hiccups a bubble of whatever alcoholic drink she chugged down. Trying to grasp onto his bicep. He’s too bulk for her small hands.

His voice low and monotone as he brushes her off easily, without a remorse, “Don’t you’ve a home to go to you little rat.” His thumbs twitches in his fist not bearing her cold velvet touch on his skin. His lips thins into exasperation. Vexed sigh gurgling within depths of his chest when Y/N leans all over him practically melting into his back, her cheek cutely squished against his sharp shoulder blade as she hugs his arm for life.

What in the clingy fucking fuck.

“Nooooo…” She baubles out sadly. Her pout wavering and her chin wobbling with tears popping and glistening on her waterline.

“Shoo away you rat.” Harry all but ignores her act shrugging his arm to get rid of her instead she wraps herself more securely around him, where she’s just his other skin.

He groans stomping his custom Gucci shoes harshly against the floor. Thumbing at his eyes crudely and tugging at his own curls madly, before snapping his fingers and vanishing into thin air.

Going invisible while being there, inches away from her.

Y/N blinks her eyes inhumanely possible. Taking a 360 of her space and seeing just a couple sitting far off at the bench, her heart shrinks down to her stomach.

Her knees weakens, the heat from her cheeks drains to reveal paleness and Harry smirks, having his lil fun in getting her shit her pants but his own plan blows at him when she flops on her knees drunkenly and starts to cry, with loud shaky sobs and big fat tears.

“Where did you gooooaaaaa!!?” A string of saliva attaches from her bottom lip to her upper one as she opens her mouth wide enough to stuff two Big Macs while she whined and cried, she’s a proper misery party. Her eyes swollen and wet, shut brutally tight that even the tears are finding their way to slip out.

“Can you please shut up?” Harry pops out of blue making himself visible again and she yips out in surprise finding him shadowing over her face mere threads away. A stinging smack echoes in the air, her hand comes in contact to his cheek and if he hadn’t asked the Lucifer to stone him to death he will now after getting slapped by a girl who’s a fucking mortal.

Out of her fright and flight mode her hand flew to land against his cheek and to compensate that, her short length arms instantly weaved around his neck, Harry’s dead heart almost revives to life upon his first humanly hug after centuries of blankness.

“I’m so sorry—- please don’t leave me…” She weeps into his neck in sheer panic and fright, twisting the collar of his black shirt.

Harry just keeps his arms to himself. Shutting his eyelids into defeat and irritation.

“What a fucking torture of a human you’re, little rat.”

He’s about to count his days on the same watch Lucifer gifted him.