#harryween

A woman passed by with a glass of red wine, sloshing it dramatically. “O-positive.” she giggled to her friends.

Harry rolled his eyes. If only they knew how metallic it really tastes, he thought. And how quickly it clots if you don’t drink it fresh.

A couple dressed as matching skeletons stumbled past him, laughing, bumping into his shoulder. “Sorry, mate!” one slurred.

He gave them a polite smile, all teeth, no warmth and continued on his way. Their heartbeats thumped behind him, loud and inviting. He could taste them in the air if he wanted to.

But not tonight. Not yet.

Tonight, he was looking for something... different.

The humans had their little masquerade, and he had his hunger. The irony wasn’t lost on him. He’d lived long enough to find their fear of monsters both amusing and endearing. After all, what was scarier than a creature that could walk among them unnoticed dressed in nothing but mortal skin and good manners?

A group of college kids sprinted past, one yelling, “Nice costume, mate!”

Harry glanced down at himself. Plain black trousers, boots, a dark shirt, a few silver rings. No cape. No makeup. No need.

He smirked again. “Thanks,” he said under his breath, voice carrying just enough of a grin to make it dangerous. “It’s one of a kind.”

Ahead, neon lights bled across the pavement. A club pulsing with bass, laughter, and the faintest scent of adrenaline. Perfect.

Harry stopped outside the club, the thrum of bass vibrating through the pavement like a heartbeat. How poetic, he thought, lips curling faintly. A room full of living, breathing pulse points.

Feeding nights were usually easy. Predictable. He’d perfected the routine centuries ago. Walk in, find someone alone and looking for danger, seduce them just enough to make them follow. Humans were remarkably good at mistaking hunger for attraction. He never took more than he needed, never left a mess. Just enough to keep the edge off the craving.

It was all a game now. A dull, repetitive one. Seduction had become muscle memory; pleasure, an imitation. Nothing ever stuck.

Harry stepped forward, the club doors parting like an invitation. The air inside was warm, electric, perfume, sweat, and cheap liquor blending into a haze of mortal excess. The lights flashed crimson and violet across faces painted to look monstrous, none of them realizing that the real one had just walked in.

A few heads turned as he made his way to the bar, they always did. Something about him drew attention, even when he wasn’t trying. Maybe it was his eyes. Green, sharp, faintly amused, or the quiet confidence of someone who’d seen more centuries than he cared to count.

He slid into a seat at the counter, planning to survey the room. A blonde at the far end caught his eye, already giving him that come talk to me look. Easy prey. He could be done by midnight if he wanted.

But then,

He saw her.

Behind the bar.

And suddenly, every well-rehearsed plan evaporated.

She wasn’t like the rest.

Her costume, if it could be called that, clung to her in ways that demanded attention. It was classic, red and black. But the top barely held her perfectly curved breasts, and her skirt was short enough that if she’d bend, her ass would be on display. Shiny makeup, perfect red lips, making her stand out. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way she moved, quick, sure, effortless. She was flipping bottles, pouring drinks with the precision of someone who owned the room, tossing back sarcastic comments at flirty customers without missing a beat.

Her laughter cut through the music, low and magnetic.

And Harry, who’d lived long enough to think he’d seen every kind of beauty the world could offer, forgot himself for a moment.

His hunger quieted.

Not gone, just... pushed aside, like it knew it wasn’t the only craving now.

He leaned on the bar, lips twitching into a small, intrigued smile as she turned toward him.

“Can I get you something?” she asked, voice teasing, confident.

Oh, he could think of a few things. But for now,

“Something strong,” he said, eyes never leaving hers. “I’ve got a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”

Harry had been alive long enough to recognize beauty in all its forms. The fleeting, the fragile, the dangerous. But this one was something else.

He couldn’t quite decide what drew him more, her smile or the fact that it wasn’t directed at him.

She was working the bar like a performer on her own stage. Glasses clinked, music pulsed, people shouted orders over the noise. She barely looked flustered, tossing her hair out of her face and flashing an effortless grin at the next customer.

When she finally came back to him, he leaned forward slightly, resting an elbow on the counter.

“Still here?” she asked, teasing, wiping down the surface between them.

“Planning to be,” he replied smoothly. “Unless you plan to throw me out.”

She quirked a brow. “Depends. You gonna order something, or just stare at me all night?”

“Can’t I do both?” His smile was slow, deliberate, the kind that usually melted resistance in seconds.

But she didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blush.

Instead, she laughed, short and genuine. “You can try, pretty boy. What’ll it be?”

Harry blinked, momentarily thrown off. Pretty boy? No one had called him that in… well, centuries. Most people couldn’t even look him in the eye long enough to get that comfortable.

He recovered with a smirk, giving her the same answer he had earlier. “Surprise me. Something strong.”

“Strong, huh?” she mused, eyeing him like she was assessing a challenge. “You look like a whiskey type. Maybe bourbon. Definitely someone who thinks they’re tougher than they are.”

His brows lifted, amused. “You think you’ve got me figured out?”

“Please,” she said, already pouring. “I’ve been bartending for five years. I can smell the overconfidence from here.”

She slid the drink toward him, amber liquid catching the neon light. He took a sip, smooth, smoky, warm. Not bad for human alcohol.

He hummed approvingly. “You might be right about the bourbon. But the confidence?” He leaned in slightly, voice dropping into something darker, teasing. “That’s not an act.”

She met his gaze evenly. “Confidence and arrogance are cousins, you know. One’s just louder.”

He laughed. A low, surprised sound that earned a few curious glances from nearby patrons.

Maybe it was the centuries of predictable human behavior, or maybe it was the way she wasn’t bending to him, but something about her defiance was addictive.

So he stayed.

Drink after drink, round after round, he found excuses to keep talking to her. Each time, he ordered something different. A gin martini, a rum cocktail, something with fire and flair just to see how she’d make it.

She did it all without missing a beat, even doing little tricks now and then, flipping bottles, catching them, the crowd cheering.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

At one point, between customers, she glanced at him again. “You sure you can handle another one? You’ve had, what, four?”

“Five.”, he corrected with a grin. “And I assure you, love, I’ve got a remarkable tolerance.”

“Right,” she said, smirking. “That’s what they all say before I’m hauling them off the floor.”

“You can try hauling me,” he murmured, his tone suggestive enough to make her snort.

“Charming,” she deadpanned, reaching for another glass. “You really think that line works on women?”

He tilted his head, studying her. “Usually.”

“Well,” she said with a teasing smile, “congratulations. You’ve met your exception.”

He grinned, biting back a laugh. For once, someone had cracked through his well-practiced façade, not with awe, but with sarcasm.

And the worst part? He loved it.

________________________________

Hours had a strange way of slipping past in that club, lights flickering, glasses clinking, the same songs looping like spells meant to make people forget time.

Harry hadn’t moved from his spot at the bar. He was sitting there with one elbow propped lazily on the counter, chin resting against his hand, eyes fixed on her like she was the only thing in motion.

She noticed, of course. Hard not to, when a man like that was watching you.

He wasn’t the usual kind of drunk who flirted between slurred words and bad jokes. No, this one had a certain calm to him, that unnerving quiet confidence that made her pulse jump for reasons she didn’t want to admit.

“Another one?” she asked when she came over, though her shift was almost done.

Harry smiled, slow, disarming. “Only if you’re making it, love.”

That word again. Love. The way he said it, smooth, low, like it was both an endearment and a challenge, made her fingers pause for half a second on the shaker. She hated that it made her stomach flutter.

He leaned in slightly as she worked, voice barely audible over the music. “You always this good at pretending everything’s fine?”

That caught her off guard. She glanced up, meeting those impossibly green eyes, and for a moment, forgot how to breathe.

“What makes you think I’m pretending?” she asked, forcing a light tone.

He tilted his head, studying her like she was a riddle. “You’ve got that look. The one people get when they smile too hard.”

She huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head. “You’re observant for someone who’s had six drinks.”

“Seven,” he corrected with a grin. “And I’ve been told I’m very good at paying attention.”

She should’ve brushed him off. Should’ve rolled her eyes and walked away. But something in his tone, the quiet sincerity under the arrogance, made her pause.

Maybe it was the way the night had been going. Maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to see past her armor. Or maybe it was the fact that he was a stranger, one she’d likely never see again after tonight.

So she exhaled softly and said, “Fine. You really want to know? I just got out of a relationship. Messy ending. The kind that makes you wish people came with warning labels.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t look smug for prying it out of her. Instead, his expression softened, just a fraction. “Someone was stupid enough to let you go?”

She let out a dry laugh. “You don’t even know me.”

“Don’t need to,” he said, eyes glinting. “Sometimes it’s obvious when something good’s been wasted.”

Her pulse skipped, and she quickly busied herself cleaning the counter. “You always this smooth, or is it just the whiskey talking?”

“Oh, I’m smooth even when sober,” he said, smirking.

“Good to know you’re humble too.”

“I have my moments,” he replied, flashing that grin that could make saints sin.

She tried not to look at him too long but it was impossible not to notice the tattoos curling up his forearms, the glint of his silver rings catching the bar lights, or the easy way he carried himself, like the night itself bent to his pace.

It wasn’t fair, really. Men like him weren’t supposed to look that good, or sound that enticing when they said your name because he did say it, a few minutes later, when she introduced herself properly. And when he said it, it somehow sounded like it meant something.

She told herself not to get attached. He was just a stranger in a bar. Someone passing through her night like the rest of them.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something different about him. Something that made her want to know what he was hiding behind that lazy grin.

He sat at the bar still as she was closing up, ready to end her shift.

She glanced up once, catching his stare. “Why're you still here?”

His lazy smile suggested he hadn’t even considered leaving. “Didn’t want to leave without saying goodnight.”

“Goodnight?” she echoed, lips twitching. “You make it sound like this is some kind of date.”

“Maybe it could be,” he said, voice low. “Next time you’re not working.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite hide the smirk that tugged at her mouth. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“Never saw the point,” he replied, leaning back, his gaze dragging over her just long enough to make her skin prickle. “Besides, I’ve had worse hobbies than trying to make a beautiful woman smile.”

Her breath caught before she could stop it. God, he was shameless. And worse, he was good at it. Too good.

“You’ve got a dangerous mouth,” she said finally, voice half amused, half warning.

He grinned. “Depends who you ask.”

She shook her head, pretending to be unaffected, but the warmth creeping up her neck betrayed her. “You should go before I start charging you rent for that barstool.”

“Tell you what,” he said, standing. “I’ll go… if you walk me out.”

She laughed. “You’re impossible.”

“Persistent,” he corrected, flashing her that grin again.

Something in the way he said it, that mix of arrogance and something darker, made her pulse skip. Against her better judgment, she found herself nodding. “Fine. I’m locking up anyway.”

He followed her as she moved through the side corridor toward the staff exit. The hallway was dimly lit, quiet, the bass from the club now a distant echo. She could feel him behind her, tall, silent, radiating warmth she shouldn’t have noticed.

She pushed open the back door, the chill of the night brushing her skin. He was close enough that when she turned, she nearly collided with him.

For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. The air between them shifted, heavier, charged, alive.

He looked down at her, green eyes glinting under the flickering light. “You sure you want to call it a night, love?”

Her chest rose with a shaky breath. “You always call women that?”

“Only the ones I can’t stop thinking about.”

She hated how easily her pulse betrayed her. “You really think that line’s gonna work?”

“I don’t think,” he murmured, stepping closer, his voice a velvet promise. “I know.”

She laughed, soft, nervous, and wanting. “You’re so-”

“-cocky?” he supplied with a smirk.

“Exactly.”

Their eyes locked again, and something inside her snapped. Maybe it was the alcohol in the air, or the exhaustion, or the fact that for once, she didn’t want to think. She just wanted to feel something good.

So she did the first thing that felt right.

She grabbed his shirt collar, pulled him through the half-open staff door, and let it swing shut behind them. Harry grinned against her lips, one hand going to her hip to steady her, other cupping her jaw as he tilted her face upwards for a better angle.

“Knew you’d get there.”, he mumbles out of breath.

“Shut up.”, she mumbles back, raising up on her tiptoes. She’d kissed men before. Flings, mistakes, forgettable faces, but this was different. There was a pull here, something deeper than attraction, as though his very presence was rewriting the rhythm of her heartbeat.

And when he deepened the kiss, she let him. Completely.

Her mind was a blur, but she noticed things, the faint scent of cedar and smoke clinging to him, the cool brush of his rings against her skin, the way he made even the air around them feel electric.

It felt so good, and it was just a kiss. After weeks of heartbreak and noise, here was a man who looked at her like she wasn’t broken, just… alive.

Maybe it was reckless. Maybe it was exactly what she needed.

“My flat’s just around the corner,” she said, the words slipping out before she could second-guess them.

Harry’s lips curved into that devastating smile again. “Lead the way, love.”

She didn’t know why her pulse jumped at the sound of that word again. Maybe because of the way he said it, like he meant it. She didn’t look back to see the flicker in his eyes as he followed her, a flash of hunger, darker and older than anything. 

Her flat wasn’t far. A narrow staircase, a squeaky door, a space that smelled faintly of vanilla candles and coffee. Warm, lived-in, safe. It felt like a place he shouldn’t belong in.

They stumbled inside between breathless kisses, the kind that were more about relief than haste, two people trying to forget the rest of the world. 

He pressed her against the closed door, one hand braced beside her head, the other tracing the line of her jaw. Her hands tangle in his hair, moaning softly as his lips leave hers and move to the skin of her jaw and down her chin. 

It should’ve felt routine to him. He’d been here before, countless times across countless decades, but it didn’t. There was something different about this. About her.

“What about you? Messy breakup too?”, she asks breathlessly, as one of his hands squeeze her hip and trails down over her short skirt.

“Nothing in particular.”, he says, not giving her a lot. He palms her ass over her skirt. “You do know this little piece of clothing barely covers your ass?”

“I know, and I don’t care. Got you in my flat, didn’t it?”, she replies back and he chuckles, hand going under her skirt. 

“I was more curious to see what you were wearing under it.”, he says, fingers grazing her thin cotton panties.

“Take a look, then.”, she flutters her eyelashes, heart thumping with adrenaline.

“I’m the one usually giving instructions, love.”, he says, nipping at her neck, making her moan. “You put up this act, but I know you just want to be taken care of. Just want to feel good. Isn’t that right love?”

His fingers press onto her clit over her panties and her breath hitches, wanting more. “I’m not giving you more until you answer.”, he says calmly.

“Mm, please. Make me feel good.”, she says softly, and he smirks, hands going to her hips, pulling her towards him. “Oh I will. More than that shitty ex boyfriend of yours ever could. Now, take off these little pieces of clothing that stop me from seeing you completely.”

She obeys, his commands making her feel like giving up all control already. She tugs down her zipper and slides her short skirt down her hips, then her top, left with only underwear. 

“Beautiful tits you got there, love. Go on, get them out.”, he eyes her, stepping her closer.

She does, unhooking her bra, and she’s left with her upper half fully exposed. Harry cups her right breast, and attaches his lips around the nipple of her left breast, making her gasp and hold onto him. 

He’s then moving her to the couch, making her lay down so he has better access, connecting their lips again. His fingers play with her breasts, palming them, cupping them, tugging on her nipples making her gasp into the kiss. When she broke away just long enough to look up at him, her lips swollen and eyes bright, he thought that he could live off that sight alone.

“Harry,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady.

He answered with a hum, brushing a kiss to her neck, and then froze.

Her pulse fluttered beneath his lips, steady, strong, alive. And suddenly the hunger he’d been suppressing all night surged to the surface, sharp and undeniable.

His breath hitched. He felt his fangs press against his lower lip before he could stop them. Instinct, ancient and uncontrollable.

He turned his head away, jaw tight, eyes darkening as he forced himself to step back. “I-”

She blinked, chest rising and falling quickly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said too quickly, his voice rough. “I just… need a second.”

And then she saw it, the faint gleam of his teeth when the light hit them just right. Not normal teeth. Not even close.

For a heartbeat, the room was utterly still.

Then, instead of fear, she tilted her head slightly, curiosity flickering behind her eyes. “You’re a vampire, aren’t you?”

Harry stared at her, genuinely startled. No scream. No panic. Just that calm, matter-of-fact tone, like she’d just asked if he wanted another drink.

He let out a quiet, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “You’re… not afraid?”

She smiled faintly, though her voice was soft. “Should I be?”

He looked at her for a long moment. This maddening, fearless woman who had turned his entire night, maybe his entire existence, inside out  and something inside him shifted.

“No,” he said finally, voice low, reverent. “Not you.”

Her smile widens, as she tugs him by his shirt so he’s back over her. “Don’t fight it then. I don’t mind, I just want to feel good.”

“You’re really one of a kind, y/n.”, he says, tossing his shirt away, and she grins, running her hands over him as he leaves little bites and kisses over her skin. He could hear the blood flowing through her arteries and veins, he could hear the thump of her heart, he could see the way her skin rose rhythmically at her pulse points. But he was hesitant to feed on her, he’d never been like that before.

“Oh!” Her breath hitches as his fingers graze over her folds, her panties had been gone long ago. The moisture glazed his fingers.

“You’re so wet, love. Tell me, what got you so wet?”, he prompts, spreading her knees apart with one hand, other still over her pussy.

“You. Want you to..” she’s cut off by a moan as he begins circling his thumb around her clit, lips attaching to her nipple again. 

“Want me to what, love?”, he asks innocently, teeth nipping the sensitive skin around her nipple making her squeak. 

“Use your fingers, mouth, anything, please.”, she begs.

He eases the sting with his tongue. “You like that?”

“Uh huh.” Two of his fingers slip into her hole and her back arches, lips opening into an inaudible gasp. 

“I want you to be loud, okay? Let me hear those sweet sounds.”, he says, giving her another bite near her nipple making her moan.

“Hm, just like that.”, he confirms, and as he’s getting more aroused, so is his need to feed. His sharp ears hear the gush of her blood flowing, drowning her moans, and his hand that was laying over her hip was close to her femoral artery, his thumb laying just over it.

“Fuck.”, he curses, but continues to pump his fingers in and out of her. “I need to feed on you.”

His fingers curl upwards and deeper, hitting her g-spot making her moan loudly, inching her body upwards. “You need to-what?”, she can barely understand him, overwhelmed by pleasure.

“I’ll fix you right up, don’t worry. It’ll feel good.”, he promises, and he’s tilting her neck for more exposure, fingers continuing to pleasure her, scissoring in and out of her.

He had promised her she had nothing to be afraid of, so she finds herself agreeing as his eyes meet hers like he was asking for permission. Harry didn’t know why he did that.

“Okay.” She didn’t protest as his teeth sank into her skin. Besides, she was too wrapped up in pleasure. And she actually wanted to feel a bit of pain. She can feel a sharp sting as his fangs break her skin, but as his lips wrap around her the spot and starts sucking her blood, it turns into pleasure. 

“I’m gonna cum..” Her moans get louder and her body shakes slightly as he moves his fingers at a faster pace, other hand holding her still.

It wasn’t just the taste for Harry, it was her. The warmth of her blood, steady and alive, carried all the vitality of a human heart beating in rhythm with its desires. It was intoxicating, electric, more addictive than anything he’d felt in decades.

Every nerve in his body seemed to ignite. He felt alive in a way he hadn’t in years, every sense magnified. The scent of her skin, the soft pulse beneath his lips, even the faint tremble of her breath, it was all part of the experience, overwhelming and intimate. He carries her through her orgasm, listening to the beautiful sounds she made, it only making him crave her more.

When he drew back, it wasn’t with emptiness, but with satisfaction. Not just for the thirst he’d finally quenched, but for the trust she’d given him. She’s breathing heavily, chest rising and falling from the after effects of her orgasm. She’s slightly dazed, blinking as her vision’s a bit blurry.

“That was..woah.”, she pants, trying to look at her neck as he pulled back, blood still gushing out of her wound. It wasn’t too big, Harry was careful and normally he wouldn’t care, but he didn’t want y/n having to deal with that wound, so he bites his own wrist, drawing some blood and brings it up to her lips.

“Drink.” 

Her eyebrows raise in question, and he nods, nudging his wrist closer. “My blood will heal the wound, make it better.”

She doesn’t know what this night has gotten into but she listens, letting the metallic taste of his blood touch her tongue too. Harry’s green eyes so deep she thought he could stare into her soul kept eye contact with her the whole while. She had questions for him, too many. But at the moment, she just wanted to drink. It was weirdly intimate, him giving her his blood. But it didn’t go on for long. His eyes flick to the side of her neck, seeing that his fang marks have disappeared and he pulls his wrist away.

“It’s really gone huh?”, she touches the spot.

He smirks. “Like magic.”

She smiled, pulling him down again, locking lips. “I liked that, it was really hot.”

“You’re a naughty girl.” 

Her hands move down towards his pants, palming the bulge she could clearly feel.

“Vampires get hard ons too?”, she teases.

He growls against her lips, hands squeezing her lips. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Whatever you want me to do.”, she says, tracing her finger down his abs. 

“What if I said I wanted to fuck you senseless?”, he asks, biting her bottom lip softly.

“I’d say yes..please.”, she adds. He groans, getting up to slide his pants down. “You’re driving me crazy, little human.”

She grins, then it slowly fades as she sees the size of his dick. “Holy shit.”

“What? Was your boyfriend’s at least half of mine?”, Harry asks cockily as he palms his length. She ignores his comment. “You said you’d make me feel better than he did, show me.”

“I’ll be happy too. Spread them.”, he pats her thigh, and she opens her legs. “Does it have healing properties too?”, she asks.

“What?”

“Your cum. You do cum, right?”

He’s scoffing, not wasting any more time as he’s pushing into her, all at once. “I do. And about the healing properties, let’s find out, shall we?”

 She’s biting back a scream as he fills her up, and he pinches her nipple making her let that out. “I said I wanted to hear you, didn’t I?”

She nods, not giving him a verbal reply and he raises his eyebrows, giving her nipple a twist. “You were sharper when you weren’t cock greedy.” 

“Yes, you did..ohh..”, she steadies herself as he doesn’t move yet, letting her adjust. “Fuck me. Fuck me good, Harry.”

“You got it, princess.”, he says, and begins moving his hips, thrusting in and out of her. She doesn’t contain her moans, nails digging into his arms as she holds on. His pace was incredible, super human. So fast, and so deep, it was hitting her so deep she didn’t even know it was possible. He lifted her legs up with one hand, pounding into her. 

The flat fills with their sounds of pleasure, their moans blending together.

“So? H-He ever fuck you like this?”, he asks, blowing some hair out of his face as he looks down at her.

She couldn’t even form sentences. “No..no..please, oh..harder..”

“Yup, that’s right. I’m not leaving until I fuck you into a sensless toy. You like it though, you’re enjoying it, aren’t you baby?” He grips her jaw, squeezing it, forcing her to look at him.

“Mhmm, yes, oh yes…fuck, bite me again, u-use me...”

He lets out a soft laugh, stroking some of her hair back as he continues his pace. “You’ll be too weak if I drink from you again. But I can give you little love bites.”

She feels the dam ready to burst, that feeling at the bottom of her stomach and when he nips at the soft, delicate skin of her belly, she’s starting to shake. 

“You’re gonna cum already?”, he asks, knowing it. 

“Please..c-can’t..” She closes her eyes, screaming and gripping his arm tight as he gives her a particularly hard thrust. 

“You can cum..eyes on me, I want to see them while you cum. No looking away from me, yeah?” She nods, opening her eyes and he grunts, “Good girl. Got pretty eyes.”

He needs a bit more to get off, humans always reach their climax early. He slows his pace a little as she orgasms, keeps her body down with a hand on her stomach as she shudders. When she’s whimpering from overstimulation, he pulls out.

“You’re not done yet, love. Turn over, come on.” She feels like she’s made of clay, barely able to move and he’s sighing, lifting her up easily and propping her on her hands over the arm rest of the couch and her knees on the cushion, then pressing down lightly on her lower back so it’s arched. 

“Gotta do all the work for you.  But it’s okay, I don’t mind. Now hold on.”, he warns. He squeezes her ass cheeks before separating them, and pushes his dick inside her pussy again. She moans and feels tears in her eyes, she was too sensitive.

“Harry..it’s too much..”

“You can take it, you’re a little slut who wanted to be fucked good. You’re getting exactly that, don’t complain.” 

She holds on the arm rest as her entire body is moving forwards and backwards too as he’s pushing in and out, hands holding her hips. One hand goes to her hair, wrapping it around his hand and tugs her head up. “You’ve got the best fucking pussy, you know that? Prettiest, and so tight.”

She moans, tears of pleasure running down her cheeks. “F-Feels..feels so good.”

“Yeah? You like getting railed by my big cock?”, he asks, groaning as he feels his climax coming on. 

“Uh huh, don’t stop..”

He quickens his pace, making her scream. When he’s just about to cum, he turns her over and jerks himself, other hand going to her chin to tug her mouth open. “Open up. It’s going to be a lot, okay? But you’ll swallow every drop.”

She nods obediently, looking up at him with her tear streaked face, makeup ruined and smothered all over her face. But she never looked more attractive to him. 

She keeps her mouth open as his cum shoots onto her tongue and she brings her hand up, milking him off. She swallowed it all, noticing that it was not very salty. “You’ll know in the morning if it has healing properties.”, he adds, smirking as he presses a kiss to her lips, closing her jaw.

“Oh god..I-I..I really am crazy, letting a vampire do things to me.”, she murmurs, wiping her eyes. 

“Do you regret it?”, Harry asks, cleaning himself up with a cloth laying nearby.

“No.”, she said, then licks her lips as she slowly exhales. “No, it was one of the best nights I’ve had in a while.”

He smiles. “I’m glad to hear that. Energy for another round then?”, he asks, wiping off some sweat and she shakes her head, eyes wide. She was too overstimulated, her pussy was starting to hurt.

 He laughs, getting off the couch and scooping his arms around her, picking her up easily. “You kept up with me, you did good little human. Where’s your bathroom?”

She pointed which way, and rested her head against his chest as he carried her like a koala bear. She was exhausted. Harry carried her effortlessly, one arm beneath her knees, the other around her back  as though she weighed nothing at all, though her warmth pressed against him in a way he couldn’t ignore.

He laid her gently on the edge of the bathtub, hands surprisingly careful as he washed the sweat and remnants of the night from her skin. She hummed softly, half asleep, half aware, and it struck him how utterly unguarded she was with him.

He frowned at himself. Why am I doing this? he thought, lips pressed into a tight line. He had never cared for anyone like this. He had never… fussed, never worried about small comforts, never softened for someone. And yet, here he was.

Once she was clean, he lifted her again, carrying her to her bed. She didn’t protest, didn’t speak just let him do it. He tucked the blankets around her, careful not to wake her fully, and then padded silently to the kitchen.

A glass of water. Some fruit.

He placed them on the bedside table, lingering over her for a moment. She looked peaceful, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, unaware of the turmoil swirling inside him.

He didn’t know why he cared. Never had before. He ran a finger along the rim of the glass, eyes flicking back to her. He wanted to stay, to protect, to hold  and he knew that was the dangerous part. Because he wasn’t supposed to care. Not like this.

“Harry?”, she whispers, eyes flutter open just a bit. “Will you stay?”

How could he say no to that?

He gets in the bed beside her in reply, and she turns to cuddle into his chest making him melt into a puddle. 

He runs his fingers through her hair, feeling the soft strands between his fingers. “Thank you.”, he murmurs, pressing a kiss against her hair.

“For what?”, she asks, opening her eyes to look at him.

“You knew what I was and you still trusted me. You let me feed too.”, he says.

She shrugs. “I’m not scared of you. You seem like a sweet vampire, just tough on the outside.”

Harry laughs, stroking the soft skin of her cheek with his thumb. “Sweet vampire is the last thing people use to describe me, love. Oh, if you knew. But.. I guess that’s how I am with you.”, he whispers, watching as her eyes closed again and her breathing becomes heavier as she falls asleep. “I’ve never felt like this.”, he whispers, kissing her cheek. 

He wasn’t going to sleep. He’d look at her all night long, cause that’s how much time he would be giving himself to be in her presence. He knew what he had to do in the morning. 

_____________________________________

The first hint of dawn crept through the thin curtains, pale light tracing across the walls. Harry sat beside her bed, watching her sleep. She looked impossibly peaceful, the curve of her lips, the slow rhythm of her breathing. So human. So warm.

He shouldn’t still be there. He knew that. Every instinct screamed for him to leave before daylight, before he made the mistake of believing this could ever be more than what it was.

But he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Something about her had cracked through centuries of practiced indifference. She’d made him feel something he thought he’d lost long ago, softness, care, hope.

And that was precisely why he had to go.

His world was too dark, too dangerous. To bring her into it would be to mark her forever, and she deserved better than that.

He leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re too precious for this life, love,” he whispered, voice barely audible. “Too bright.”

He stood slowly, drawing a single crimson rose from the pocket of his coat. It wasn’t an ordinary one, its petals glowed faintly, pulsing with a vitality that would never fade. It would never wilt, never die, just like him. A piece of the night, left behind.

He placed it on her bedside table, next to the untouched fruit and the glass of water. 

When her eyes fluttered open, hazy and confused, he knew there was no more time.

“Harry?” she murmured, voice thick with sleep. “What are you-”

He met her gaze before she could finish. His hands held her cheeks gently as he stared into her beautiful eyes. His eyes glowed faintly green, ancient and hypnotic. She stilled, breath catching as the air between them seemed to hum.

“Listen to me, y/n,” he said softly, his voice wrapping around the room like a lullaby. “You’re going to forget me and all of this. You’re going to forget everything that happened in the last 8 hours. You never met me and nothing happened between us.”

Her brow furrowed faintly, but her gaze stayed locked with his.

“You’ll wake up and remember just peace and calm, no fear.” His voice trembled slightly, centuries of control fracturing under the weight of what he was doing.

“And you’ll know,” he continued, his thumb brushing her cheek, “that you are brilliant. That your ex never deserved you. That you’ll heal, and laugh again, and fill every room with that smile I’ll never forget.”

He leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss to her lips, then her forehead, and whispered one last time, “Whatever you do, be happy.. Now go back to sleep, you’ll wake up in an hour well rested, ready to take on your day.”

Her eyelids fluttered closed again, her breathing even.

Harry stood there for a moment longer, memorizing her face in the pale light, before turning toward the door. He hesitated, the ache in his chest unlike anything he’d felt in centuries, then forced himself to walk away.

Outside, the city was quiet, painted in gold and silver as the sun climbed the horizon. He slipped his sunlight ring onto his finger, the gemstone catching the light, protecting him from what he was never meant to touch.

As he stepped into the empty street, his heart felt heavier than the dawn pressing on his back.

Inside, y/n wakes up after an hour. She blinked, sitting up slowly, eyes sweeping the quiet room. She couldn’t remember why her heart felt strange, or why her throat felt tight, only that it did. 

And then she saw it.

A single rose on the bedside table, crimson and perfect, its petals untouched by time.

She reached for it, fingertips brushing the stem, and smiled faintly.

She didn’t know why, but something told her she wasn’t alone. That maybe, somewhere out there, someone was thinking of her.

And somewhere, on a quiet London street, Harry Styles disappeared into the morning, the ghost of her laughter still echoing in his mind.

______________________________

Author's note- Happy Halloween to my wonderful readers, I hope you guys enjoyed this one! I've always wanted to write a vampire!harry fic and I finally got the time and inspiration. Please do let me know if you liked my work by reblogging, liking and commenting if you want to. Reading those make my day.

Taglist: -@livypops12352568@harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777,@madstyles3204, @youngpastafanmug, @fruity-harry, @wannaliveinparadise@hermionelove@mayalove014 @vikiii07@ell0ra-br3kk3r @thelooneytoon@charlesleclercwifey, @stylesftcher@mads3502@somewiseguy@huhidontknowstuff@sincerely-yours-marsbar@p3ach-m1lk@daphnesutton@redalbumoftheyear @mema10

Just because no one had claimed this land on the outskirts of town, and she had the kind of money to keep everyone's mouths shut if they had any opposition, didn't mean that it was the best idea. Especially so, when it meant that Katrina was tucked away in-between the trunks of trees and craggy brush.

But, (Y/N) supposed that was the price of enjoying time by herself. No husband needed when she had her peace and quiet, Katrina had said.

A chilled breeze swept across her form, goosebumps lighting over her skin, the texture hightlighted under the rays of the full moon. Yeah, (Y/N) thought as she tightened her shawl around her shoulders, there better be more than a couple of loaves of bread involved in this trip. She didn't care if Katrina enjoyed her peace and quiet, not when she was cold and missing out on the town's festivities for the night. 

All Hallow's Eve was one of (Y/N)'s favorite nights of the year. It was the one night that she enjoyed staying out under the moonlight, and actually found joy in the idea of being scared. The last place she wanted to be on a night like tonight, was trudging through the woods on her way to her cousin's home. 

This was one of (Y/N)'s least favorite routes on a regular day, even among the morning hours, let alone doing this in the evening with only the moon to keep her company. The forest around her sang, filling the silence of her trek. 

Though she would never accept the title, she knew she was a bit of a scaredy cat, as Katrina had so lovingly put it when they were children. She avoided focusing on it to keep her wits about her, but the journey was beginning to send an eerie feeling up her spine. 

With every crunching footstep, she swore there were eyes pinned to her. Every brush of her shawl over her bare skin was suddenly an insect crawling into her pores, every hair falling into her face was saliva dripping from an open maw above her head, every chirping animal was a deviant spying on her from the shadows. Shadows were elongated with the help of the moon. Naked tree branches now looked like spindly fingers reaching out to grab her and take her into the earth with them. The smallest creatures skittering over the brush were now out to snatch her away, taking her to their master where she would be nothing more than a banquet table of food. 

This was most definitely not the way she wanted to spend her All Hallow's Eve. The only fun scares were the ones in town square, where the masks of witches and ghosts were strung around, and costumes were nothing more than a dressing game from those that she knew wouldn't hurt even a fly. Not this kind of chilling fear. Not the moments she had to convince herself were only in her head. 

But, truly, (Y/N) knew they were only in her head. There wasn't any deviant in the woods around Katrina's home, let along a monster with rows of teeth or blinking eyes on the moon. It was just her and the critters that could survive the shift of seasons out here. 

She just better be getting more than a couple of loaves of bread for this. 

Tightening the knitted shawl around her body, she pushed on. Katrina's cabin couldn't be that far. 

(Y/N) all but jumped out of her skin when she heard a loud crunch. She swore the sound came from behind her instead of underneath her feet like the moments before. Her steps faltered. Everything inside her wanted to turn around, to prove that it was nothing more than an animal running passed instead of the ghoul she had conjured up. But, just as badly as she wanted to know, she wanted to run away and sprint to Katrina. 

Steeling herself, (Y/N) surged onward. It was really just an animal. She would know if someone was following her. She would have heard something before this. No one could be that quiet. 

Maybe. 

She only made it a few yards further before a rustling of dead leaves sounded. Much closer behind her than before. 

On instinct, she whipped her head over her shoulder. 

Nothing but the bony trees. Shadows pulled thin under the bright moonlight didn't allow for many hiding places. Nothing and no one was to be seen. 

Her heart hammered in her chest, climbing up to the base of her throat as she forced herself to move on. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck, pasting the thin strands of hair there to her clammy skin. Katrina was going to tease her if she didn't get herself in check; she couldn't walk up having this look of fright on her face. 

With her pace quickened, (Y/N) moved on. The basket hanging from the crook of her elbow bounced against her hip with every hastened step. Twigs snapped and leaves crunched under her feet, the soft rush of the earth being disturbed under the heel of her boots padded each of her steps. 

She needed to go faster, she urged herself. The faster she made this trade, the faster she made it home, and the faster she was home, the sooner she could join in on the All Hallow's Eve traditions. If she was lucky, Harry Styles might still even be out with his niece and she'll finally have a chance to talk to him and let him know she exists an—

A threatening growl reverberated through the trees. 

A sharp yip fell from (Y/N)'s lips, her lungs squeezed free of air. Despite the cool air around her, she could feel her skin beginning to simmer in fear. Her heart pumped as if in her last moments. 

What was it her mother said? When confronted by an animal, was she to be the bigger, scarier entity? Or was she supposed to lie still and hope they went away? Wait, was she supposed to run and hope they didn't give chase? 

Parts of her began to grow numb, a light tingle appearing in the tips of her fingers as she dared to look at her stalker. 

(Y/N)'s list of fears was long and winding, the kind that had the top spot constantly under fire as new worries were added. In that moment, she couldn't be sure what she was most afraid of seeing when she turned around, only that the not knowing wasn't an option. 

Taking in a deep breath and holding as still as possible, she made the smallest movement to peer over her shoulder. 

Her heart caught in her throat. Though she couldn't see all of it, the beast wasn't something that could be ignored. Not with the way its paws dug deeply into the earth, it's stance spanning as wide as the width of her shoulders. The fur grew in an array of shades of grey, thick and course. In the right light, he looked like nothing more than a shadow, the illusion only broken by the reflection of his black eyes. As much as she saw the heavy breaths the beast exhaled, she could hear it just as well as he drew closer. 

A root snapped under its huge paw, like a bone crunching. The sound had her skin erupting into goosebumps, (Y/N) unable to stop herself from jumping in her spot. The basket hanging from her elbow bumped against the trunk of the tree at her side.

The wolf wasn't pleased by her sudden movement, opening its maw and breathing out a gravelly growl. Its teeth were sharp, incisors coming to a point with the express purpose of ripping and tearing meat from the bone. Saliva gleamed over the teeth, dripping onto the soil at its feet. 

It took another step closer to her. (Y/N) trapped herself with her back to the trunk of the tree. 

Rushes of blood roared through her ears. She couldn't tell if the black touching the corners of her vision were the result of a stray cloud drifting over the moon, or the fact that she could be looking death in the eye as it stalked towards her. 

All for a couple of bread loaves. From Katrina. 

At that moment, (Y/N) felt a spark sink into her stomach. It was surprisingly offensive to think that her death would come on the journey to Katrina's cabin. That was far from fair. 

In what she was sure she would later think of as a stupid move (if she made it long enough to have a later anyway), she dug the toes of her boots into the earth, waiting just long enough to feel one more beat of her heart against her ribs. Then, she took off. 

(Y/N) had to hope this was the lifetime that would allow her to possess the speed to outrun a hellish wolf. Meandering through the trunks of spindly trees, she attempted to cut him off as best as possible, even if the pounding of the beast's feet sounded heavy and close behind her.

She was going to make it, she told herself. Just keep running. Get to Katrina. Get to the edge of the woods. Scream, let anyone else know what was happening. Maybe a hunter was out here—a stupid one for being out so late, but who was she to criticize. She was going to make it, and liv—

A jutting root caught on the tip of her boot. (Y/N) swore the world moved in slow motion as she fell. 

The clouds above stopped. The moon dimmed. The leaves under her turned crystalline. 

This was it. 

Her chin hit the damp earth first, her jaw clamping shut. Her hands stung as she attempted to catch herself, sticks and rocks embedding into her skin. The basket in her arms was crushed under her weight. 

This was it. 

Hopefully, someone would deliver the bread loaves to her mother instead. Hopefully, someone would find her. 

A deafening growl sounded through the forest. Tears filled her closed eyes. 

This was it. 

Until it wasn't. 

The growl had been cut short, killed with a vibrating slam against the forest floor. The static feeling someone looming behind her vanished. Despite the lack of heavy, hot breath fanning across her back, she didn't move. She couldn't trust the sudden change in the air. Her bones stayed stiff as he continued to brace herself against the forest floor. 

Another growl rang through the forest. This one was decidedly different than what she had heard while being stalked. 

There was another beast. That much she could be sure of. 

(Y/N) couldn't decide if it was scarier to not know what was behind her, or to see exactly what the end of her life was going to look like.

When a duo of gravely barks reverberated behind her, the decision was made for her on instinct. Though her gaze was blurry thanks to the tears filling her eyes, she was able to make out the pair of wolves looming behind her. 

But neither of them were looking at her.

Roots and brush dug into her back as she rolled to her back. Neither of them appeared to notice the movement of the prey before them, supernatural eyes pinned on one another. While the initial beast's eyes were reflections of moonlight, colored a primal yellow, the newcomer had emerald crescents at its irises.

This new one was also bigger and broader. (Y/N) had thought the yellow-eyes wolf was large and scary enough, this new one was in a league of its own. She shuddered to think just how easy it would be for this one to swallow her whole. 

Despite how large the emerald-eyed creature was, it was decidedly sleeker than the other. There wasn't anything course and tufting in its brown coat. Sharpened teeth, though just as menacing, lacked the chips and discoloration the other had. It looked less... feral compared to the other; desperate for a chase. 

The emerald-eyed one stepped close to the beast, growling and baring its teeth in intimidation. The rigid posture kept its maw wide over the yellow-eyed one's head, dripping with saliva. A throat growl vibrating from its massive chest. 

(Y/N) almost cringed when she saw the stalking beast refuse to back down despite the size difference presented with the emerald-eyed competitor. She was far from being a meal worthy for death. 

Neither refused to back down, but at least they didn't spare even a single look in her direction. Now was the time to flee, get away from there and to Katrina before another nasty foe caught wind. 

She didn't think before she scrambled to her feet and ran. She had to hope that the competition presented by the two wolves would allow enough cover to get her safely away. 

Every hope of that was dashed when it only took a handful of moments before pounding footsteps sounded behind her. At least she had a head start. 

The world around her was directionless as she attempted make sense of the trees she should be much more familiar with. She just needed to get away, as far as she was concerned. If she was able to make it to Katrina, even better. 

Sweat slipped down her back, her shawl hanging from her shoulder. Branches caught on her dress. Roots attempted to trip her. The cold air didn't want to work with her lungs, every breath feeling that much more stilted. All while being pursued by animals that shouldn't exist—not like this. 

Just as she swore she saw the backside of Katrina's cottage, between large trunks and spindly branches, one of the two beasts skidded in front of her. She hadn't heard the change in direction, but there were still footsteps sounding behind her. 

(Y/N) was forced to stop, keeping herself from bashing into the chest of one of the wolves. But that kept her stationary just for the other to close in behind her. 

She wasn't sure when, but tears slipped down her cheeks. The moisture stung the cuts on the planes of her face, searingly hot against her chilled skin. 

There was no way out this time. 

Especially not when the beast in front of her, the one with glinting green eyes, started charging towards her. 

Pressing in on herself, (Y/N) fell to the floor. It was a fruitless attempt, she was sure, but she curled her arms around her head, rolling into a ball between the brush and roots. There was a chance, however small, that she may be harder to eat and swallow like this. 

At her back, the pounding paws were louder across the forest floor. It was there, just behind her. 

She wondered if she could feel each bite as her flesh was torn from her bones, or if she would die before then. 

Peeking between her curled arms, (Y/N) saw the emerald-eyed beast close in on her. His maw was open wide, a menacing growl sounding through the forest. 

Just as she expected to feel the last dredges of the cold air and every piece of her body connected to one another, the beast leapt. Right over her head. And onto the wolf at her back.

Crunches that sound did a lot like broken tree branches rang through her head. But, (Y/N) knew, she wasn't sure how, that those cracks weren't from the forest. That was the snap of bones. She was sure. 

Whimpers were now interspersed with the gravely growls, pitches and devastating. Cracks and crunches tore the rhythm apart. 

One of them was dying behind her. 

(Y/N) couldn't look. She didn't want to see what kind of carnage was taking place behind her. All she knew was that the silence that shortly followed a particularly screeching whine was the sign of an ended fight. The elimination of competition—and her only safety in the form of distraction.

Along with the blood pudding around her boots.

Her body felt faint, her head too heavy for her neck. She was out of chances. 

It was then that she hoped she actually wasn't that close to Katrina's cabin. She didn't want her cousin to wake to a sight like this. 

A humid puff of air fanned across the back of (Y/N)'s neck, moving the baby hairs pasted to the nape. A quiet whimper tore from her throat, eyes stinging with more tears. 

Take her throat first, she wanted to beg. Kill her quickly. 

Instead of the hot slice of teeth through her flesh, she felt the nudge of a wet nose against her neck. A chuff sounding. 

(Y/N) sat still. Blood began to creep up the hem of her dress, sticking to her ankles. 

Another small chuff. A whine so broken and breathy. A whoosh of air bloomed at her side. 

Forcing herself to peel her head up, she saw the brown wolf, green-eyed and sleek, laying at her side. It looked up at her with bright eyes, something knowing flashing through them. Despite its large frame and bloody maw, it looked almost pathetic with its puppy-dog eyes and crossed paws. 

The beast had saved her. Unless this was an advanced species, having adapted a wolfy version of manipulation, this beast had saved her and wanted her to... live. 

She blinked at the beat. Still with a beating heart in her chest and each of her limbs attached to her body. 

This wasn't it. The beast before her wasn't her death. 

A savior, more like it. 

The pressure in her body came to a head, her ribs seemingly collapsing as sobs wracked her body. 

(Y/N) reached towards her savior, fingers skating through its bloody fur. Warmth seeped into her fingers at the touch, drawing her that much closer before practically falling into the beast.

The wolf reacted only in small scoots of its body coming closer, sharing it's warmth and comfort with her. Quiet chuffs sounded as it nosed at her neck. 

"You saved me," she whispered, the words watery and thin. "Y-You saved me." 

Though she would have normally scoffed at the idea of any part of this animal being knowing or intelligent, what she had seen tonight had showed her that there was nothing ordinary about this beast. She believed he knew what she was talking about when it cuddled closer to her, giving a small yip before its rough tongue tentatively licked over her neck. 

Not even a flinch was given at the contact. 

The beast had saved her and was now sharing its warmth with her. It was comforting her as if language was irrelevant when it came to communication.

(Y/N) wasn't sure how long she stayed wrapped around this creature, only that the chill had seeped from her body but her bones were incredibly stiff when she finally unfurled. Her tears had ran dry like the blood seeping from her injuries. 

The green eyes of the beast matched her own gaze, large and round as it took her in. It nosed at her chin, a chuff fanning over her skin. 

"My—" she cut herself off to clear her throat from the croaky state of her voice, "My cousin, she lives over here. I-I need to go to her." The loaves of bread were at the absolute bottom of her list, but a warm home was at the top. "W-Will you... stay?" 

In the back of her head, (Y/N) wanted to be concerned about the state of her sanity. But she knew, deep in the pit of her stomach, that this creature understood her. He knew what she was saying, what she was asking. 

Especially when it stood to its full height, head bobbing as if in a nod. 

The beast allowed her to grab his scruff to steady her as she stood to her feet. Every bone in her body suddenly became aware of how hard she had pushed herself to stay alive. Aches and bruises bloomed over her body. She stumbled, only for the wolf to sidle up to her, giving more support. 

"Sorry," she murmured, keeping her grip tight on the wolf as they started towards Katrina's cabin. 

Standing side by side, (Y/N) was hyperaware of just how large this creature was. The tufts of its ears peeked over her own head, leaving her at eye level with the beast. Her gait was stilted, but the wolf stayed at her side, though she was sure it could cover miles in less time than it would take her to move yards away. She could feel the probing gaze it gave her with each step, a primal feeling of concern bubbling behind its eyes. 

Katrina's cabin came into view, a kind of relief flooding her system that had her heart cracking. She could have fallen to her knees, thanking whatever deity it was that had kept her in its sights this evening. Though, she figured she knew well which one she needed to start with.

"Thank you," she murmured, a sad smile touching the corner of her lips as she looked to her creature. She slowed to a stop at the backside of Katrina's cottage, her kitchen window in view, complete with warm amber lighting seeping into the forest. A beacon. 

The beast butted its head against her shoulder. 

"You saved me," she repeated, visibly drooping. If not for the grip she had on his neck, she was sure she would have fallen. "Thank you." 

Another chuff. Another affectionate head-butt against her arm. 

The beast tipped its head just so, meeting her eyes under the pale moonlight. 

Emerald irises glimmered. So human, with understanding floating through them. 

As well as something far more familiar than should be seen in an animal. 

(Y/N) was well aware of just how deeply traumatizing this trek had become, but she refused to think it a crack in her sanity when she swore that the beasts eyes were ones she had seen before. A green so unique and enthralling.

A green she had only ever seen in the gaze of Harry Styles. 

The mayor's son. The shy man who had plucked (Y/N)'s attention every time he walked into the room, even if he didn't even know she existed.

The eyes of a human man. 

Maybe she was cracking already. 

She tipped her head just so, the wolf's eyes following the movement. 

"You... Your eyes...They—" 

(Y/N) was suddenly cut off at the clattering sound of Katrina's dingy door behind pushed open. 

"(Y/N)? Is that you?! You were supposed to be here hours ago!" 

Whipping her gaze to where Katrina was rounding the front of her home, peering around the porch and right to where she was standing. 

Right next to the wol—

A branch snapped in the forest. Moonlight glinted off a slick, blood-matted fur. The creature was gone, disappearing into the forest. Only the ghost of its warmth remained. 

"Oh, lord—(Y/N)! What happened?! Are you okay?"

Katrina raced towards her. No wolf was to be seen, no large creature that had saved her. 

"The w-wolf," she muttered, voice broken like the skin of her lips, "He—Katrina—" 

"What wolf?" her cousin asked, approaching (Y/N) with concerned eyes and worried features, "(Y/N), you're bleeding. What happened?!" 

"There... There were two wolves," she muttered, distractedly looking to her cousin, "One of them... It saved me." 

Katrina pinned her bottom lip between her teeth. Gentle hands landed on (Y/N)'s biceps. 

"Let's get you inside. You need to warm up, and then we can talk about everything. Okay?" 

(Y/N) didn't remember agreeing to the proposition, but she knew she made it inside the cottage. That was where, beside the fire, she had to wonder if what she had seen—the wolves, the glimmering eyes, the supernatural size and strength of the creatures—was even real. 

If she really had seen the eyes of Harry Styles in the sockets of a deadly beast. 

—————

"You are never going out like that again, (Y/N). Katrina isn't even that talented at baking!" 

(Y/N) cracked a smile at her mother's fretting. It had been this way all morning after Katrina had escorted her home. (As well as three loaves of bread and every pastry left to spare). 

"I won't, mother," (Y/N) vowed, just the same as she had the first dozen times her mother had made the same declaration. 

"Two wolves," she muttered, flying back to the kitchen to stir the soup simmering on the stove, "I cannot believe that kind of evil—so close! This town..." 

More angered mutterings sounded from the kitchen, but were cut off at the sound of a knock at the door. Before she could move a single inch from where she had been stationed on the couch,(Y/N)'s mother shouted that she would grab the door—do not move!

She watched as her moth pulled open the door, the guest being shielded from (Y/N)'s view. But she heard the voice. 

One that caused her heart to spike. Today, for a slightly different reason than the usual. 

Harry Styles was here. 

"Oh, thank you, Harry! She is going to love this, thank you." 

A rumbling tone sounded around her mother. (Y/N)'s name tossed in the mixed. 

"She's still very fragile, but you may come in and speak to her if you'd like." 

(Y/N)'s spine straightened. The sound of floorboards creaking under foreign weight filled her small home. Harry's head peeked over her mother's, complete with waving curls, a rich brown. The kind that would have gleamed so prettily under a clear, moonlit night. 

Harry's eyes met her as her mother escorted him inside. 

Green.

Unique and enthralling. 

A soft smile bloomed over his lips. "Hello," he greeted her, (Y/N)'s mother disappearing into the kitchen. "How are you feeling?" 

"I am alright," (Y/N) nodded, attempting to sit up before Harry urged her to stay just where she was. 

"No, don't move. You are alright hurt enough," he muttered, coming to crouch at the side of the chaise. Concern floated in his eyes—the kind of concern that (Y/N) almost wanted to place as guilt. 

"I really am alright. I look worse than I feel," she attempted to joke, though it fell flat when Harry only trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. 

A familiar circuit was run over the planes of her face, taking stock of every slight injury. 

Just like the emerald-eyed wolf. 

"I gave it to your mother, but my family put a few things together for your recovery. I hope they're able to bring you some comfort." He dropped his gaze from hers. "I cannot imagine going through what you did. You are incredibly brave." 

A warmth bubbled along her skin. At least that part was still normal—she was not immune to a dimple and pretty hair. 

"I wouldn't call myself brave, but I appreciate your words," she muttered, a bit sheepish at his praise, "All I did was run." 

"Sometimes, that is the smartest move to make," Harry murmured, a lopsided smile on his strawberry-hued mouth. "I am just glad you are alright. I've been worried sick since I heard the news." 

Her heart caught in her throat. He knew she existed—enough to worry about her well-being. 

"I am," he started, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, "so happy to see you. Please call on me if you need anything to help your recovery—anything at all."

"Um, I-I can do that." 

The dimpled smile that bloomed over his face was enough to have her throat clogged and lungs stilted. With a face this pretty, it was increasingly harder to find the similarities between the man before her and the blood-matted wolf in the woods.

"If it's alright with you," Harry started, voice dropping a tone lower as if sharing a secret, "I would like to request that if you ever need to make that trek again, that someone accompany you. Myself, included." 

(Y/N) didn't have to think before she was nodding her head. "I can do that." 

"Thank you," he smiled, a breathy laugh floating through his voice, "I am unable to stay long today, but I would like to check in on you this week. If that's alright with you." 

Tempering her reaction as much as she could, (Y/N) only gave a demure nod as Harry stood to the full of his height. "I don't have much else going on, but I suppose I can fit you into my schedule." 

Her tease was enough to draw a laugh from him. An achievement, as far as she was concerned. 

"I will see you tomorrow, then? If you're not already occupied," he played along, edging towards the open door. "And, please,"—he paused, the intensity of his gaze sitting squarely on her—"if you see another wolf with those yellow-eyes, tell me. Those seem to be more dangerous than the others." 

The next moments passed in a haze. She was sure Harry said goodbye to her mother and made plans for the following day. She was sure her mother praised Harry's kindness, talking him up to (Y/N) as if she didn't already know. She was sure her heart continued beating and her lungs continued filling. 

She was sure the world continued on, even when her mind stood still.

(Y/N) hadn't told anyone about the yellow eyes. 

—————

Yes, he surprised you by dressed up as the foul-mouthed, prank-loving ghost with the most because it’s your favourite movie, and yes, you cried when you first saw him in character; his cropped curls lightly tinted green, tanned skin paled down with paint, pretty eyes rimmed with black eyeshadow making the sage shade of them pop, fake mould stuck on here and there that was purposefully meant to him look gross, but he rocks it like he does everything else, and gorgeous body donned in the iconic black and white striped suit—tie and all. How could you not?

Harry smiled that smile you love so much when he clocked you all teary-eyed, wasting no time at all in pulling you in for a hug and pressing a dozen kisses to the top of your head. He murmured sweet sentiments of love between each peck, some of which he said at the altar in vow format, but all of them special, profound and perfect. Just like him. 

Once you’d stopped snivelling happy tears, Harry still had a few minutes to kill before he was due to take to the stage. He spent each one obsessing over you, something he always does whenever you’re here to watch him at work. 

Tonight, however, there was an extra reason for his infatuated behaviour—your costume. 

Harry showed just how much he loved it by restlessly teasing the white frilly maid’s apron around you waist, suggestively smoothing a hand over the black mini dress and tweaking the white collar of it, lustfully admiring the black stockings on your legs, and dazefly losing his fingers through your temporary-dyed red curls. You being dressed as Magenta from The Rocky Horror Picture Show had him in that much of a tizzy, he was tempted to cancel the concert; his exact words. But a laugh, kiss and a nudge from you—along with the very real fear of what an angry mob of his fans might do should he bail and a promise that you’d make it up to him as soon as the show was over—had your cutely pouting rock star husband agreeing to go and do his job. 

And now, as you watch him do the whale—the signature spit-take move that has you just as giddy on your hundredth watch as it did your first—it’s almost clocking out time. Home beckons you both; that promise of yours destined to be fulfilled the second you both get behind closed doors. 

Bidding the crowd ‘thank you’ and ‘good night’ with words, fingers in peace sign positions and kisses blown, Harry spins on the heels of his shiny black boots and finds you first with his gaze, and then with his mouth. How he got from the middle of the stage to the wings of it so quickly, you don’t know. You must’ve zoned out; a common thing you experience around him. He’s forever got you awestruck. 

The ‘how’ isn’t important now, though. Neither are the audience of backstage people and a few folk that are likely able to see you both from where they stand at the barricade. Nothing else matters but his plump, smiling lips on yours, the cheeky dip of his tongue, his large, soft hands cradling your face, and the metal of his wedding band cooling the skin it graces. The smell of him invading your nose. The presence and proximity of him invading everything else. 

But the small groan you hear rattling in his chest, even above the din of the arena’s exit music playlist, makes you stop the kiss with a breathy laugh, your eyes opening to find Harry’s no longer green, but as black as his now slightly smudged make-up. Just like you imagined. 

“Let’s quit before we get too carried away, hm?” You suggest, your tone as teasing as your hands now gripping and pulling his tie; your wedding and engagement rings glinting beneath the dim lights above. “Let’s go home.”

Harry shakes his head slowly, his smirk appearing just as so. “Can’t wait that long. It’s either right here or in my dressing room. Take your pick, ‘cause I don’t care.”

And you believe him. Where you’re concerned, especially when it means getting between your legs, Harry loses all sense. 

You lose some yourself, though you’re the sensible one. Hence why you reply with, “Dressing room it is.”

Saying goodbye to friends, family and the crew is a brief affair, Harry scarcely letting you or himself be courteous to those in the wings before he’s dragging you deeper backstage and into his small but cosy shownight sanctuary. He barely closes and locks the door and then he’s on you again, mouth all over yours before it’s venturing down your neck, his hands just as wandering. 

You gasp at each kiss, lick and suck and whimper at each dig, scratch and nip, your fingers running through his hair and underwear dampening by the second. You’re just as worked up as Harry and have been for just as long. It wasn’t just him you were putting out earlier when you wouldn’t put out. You’ve suffered with sexual need for the last ninety-so minutes, too.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about this exact moment the whole show,” Harry murmurs between kisses, each one more feral and needy than the last. “Had to force, like, three hard-on’s away.”

His admission makes you giggle, though the sound transitions into a moan when your back connects with the wall and his mouth moves down to suck a love bite on the valley of your right breast. You arch into his touch, hiking a leg up to wrap around his hip, Harry wasting no time in grabbing your thigh and slipping his hand up your dress to grab your ass.

Through breathless pants and a dizzy mind, you finally respond, “Not very professional of you, rock star.”

A smirk curves his lips still pressed against your skin, blown-out pupils locking on yours from under his long lashes looking as devilish as they do angelic. “Mm… ask me if I give a fuck?”

You snort a laugh at his rhetorical question, but shut up real fast when Harry rips open the poppers holding the front of your dress closed. He groans at the sight of new skin now on display, eyes bouncing between both of your tits pushed to the sky in a lacy black bra.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mumbles, fingers on his free hand peeling each cup away until your tits are bared, needy nipples pointing his way practically begging for his mouth.

Much like the way he kissed you the second he got off stage, Harry wastes no time wrapping his lips around one of the pebbled buds, leisurely sucks and teasing bites delivered that have you whimpering his name and rolling your hips in a desperate bid for more; more he gives to the neglected one as he snakes his hand under the skirt of your dress and pulls your panties to the side.

At the feeling of his cool digits running through your warm, wet folds, you sigh and smile, letting yourself bask in the relief of finally being touched by your love. Getting yourself ready for the insane increase of pleasure headed your way, because it’s coming. Just like you will be. More than once.

With the pad of his thumb rubbing circles against your swollen clit, a still-suckling Harry pushes his middle and ring fingers inside your tight channel. You gasp and clench around the welcome intrusion, eyes rolling into the back of your head that rolls back against the wall as he expertly works them in and out, over and over again; your front wall stroked, sweet spot teased and the sound of your plentiful arousal loud and lewd. His pale green curls feel like silk between your fingers, his name leaving your mouth in praise-filled waves. It may be Halloween, but you’re in heaven. 

The feeling of heaven and waves only grows as your orgasm does, reaching an all-mighty high as you do. You shake and shudder, clamping his fingers hard as you come just as so; Harry’s well-pleased grin around your nipple seen without you even looking.

You give him your gaze as you start to come down, your smile as lazy as the strokes and circles he still gives your pussy. “I'm lucky, he's lucky, we're all lucky.”

He pulls his mouth away from your nipple, his grin in all its gorgeous glory beaming as he chuckles at you cheesily quoting a movie line spoken by the character you’re dressed as tonight. “Was wondering when I’d hear that from you. Thought it might’ve been when you were coming all over my cock.”

“I can do it again then if ya like?” You giggle.

A shake of his head as his nose teasingly nudges the end of yours. “‘S all good, baby. I’ll take a rendition of the Time Warp, though.”

The next kiss you share is all knocking teeth and shared laughter, hands back to wandering a little faster and a lot more needier this time round. You take your panties off and hike your dress up to your hips as Harry slackens his tie and undoes his trousers, tugging the fabric of them and his briefs down enough until his cock—pretty, thick, heavy and dripping with want—hangs free.

You don’t hesitate to wrap your fist around it, the velvety skin warm to the touch and throbbing from yours. Harry groans and grunts between kisses, each sound growing louder and more feral caught in your mouth as you leisurely work his length and tease his tip.

Your hand falls away to grip the back of his neck when he uses both of his to lift you up, your shoulders against the wall and stockings-dressed legs hooked around his waist. Your tits are still out and now your soaked pussy is exposed, taunted by his cock nudging against it.

Harry looks down at your naked centre, a wicked smile stretching his face as he pools saliva behind his teeth and lets it drip down to where you’ll both soon become one. You moan at the salacious sight and grow needier with desire, seconds away from crying and begging him to just sink inside.

As though he can remind your mind, which you’re certain he can—a perk of married life—Harry gives you what you both want. He lines the head of his dick up and notches it into your entrance, a second for you both to catch your breaths granted before he’s simultaneously rolling his hips forward and pulling you down onto him, stretching you out and filling you to the hilt in one slicked-up stroke.

After that, he gives neither of you the time to suck in much needed oxygen, choosing to knock the air from your lungs and his with every quick thrust that hits so deep, you swear you can feel him in your stomach. So good, you know you’re seeing stars; your eyes dolled up black with smokey shadow, thick liner and spindly false top and bottom lashes threatening to close with every perfect plunge.

“Keep ‘em on me, baby.” There he goes, reading your mind again. “Love the way you look at me. Love the way you look for me, too.”

You made it clear to Harry earlier on that the decision behind your costume was made with him in mind. He loves the movie as much as you do, and it’s been a fantasy of his for a while to have you dressed as a slutty maid. Two birds, one stone.

Clinging onto him tighter, your fingers digging in deep beneath the collar of his blazer, you roll your hips and match his frantic energy; the pair of you breathless and physically hot and so goddamn high on one another. The eye contact is intense, but it’s incredible–almost orgasm-inducing alone. Your whole body tingles as your second high builds and builds and builds.

Harry meets your sweaty forehead with his equally sweaty one as he picks up the pace, the sound of slapping skin and practically pornographic moans ricocheting around the now smelling-of-sex room. You’re dripping all around his cock and your thighs, the second impending orgasm guaranteed to be as devastating as the first.

Fingers appear by your crimson-painted lips, smearing the product more than the feral kisses from before did–evidence of which seen on Harry’s own mouth–before they’re parting them and pushing in. You suck the digits that faintly taste of you, humming and moaning around them as you do.

“So fuckin’ hot.” Harry sounds as proud as his grin looks. “Hit the jackpot with you.”

You pull your mouth free, feeling yourself blush. It doesn’t matter how many compliments he’s given you over the years, how many compliments he gives you on a daily basis, your blood always rushes to your cheeks, making you look the part of a lovesick girl with a silly crush as much as you feel it. 

“Wanna know what would be even hotter?” Harry inclines his head, waiting for your answer that you soon enough give with a smirk and a nudge of your chin his way. “Finish inside me. Fill me up.”

Before much longer he’s doing exactly that, the last few minutes of fucking done at a jackhammer speed that has your jaw falling slack, tits bouncing violently and eyes brimming with tears, and also coming hard for a second time; Harry working your swollen clit amidst each euphoric thrust and worshipping declaration he utters until he’s groaning loud, shuddering hard and emptying his balls into your greedy, fluttering pussy.

You’re not sure how much time passes by once you both come back to Earth, but you are aware of the first words that leave your mouth since chanting ‘yes, god, yes’, ‘just like that’, and ‘love you so much’ over and over again.

“Forgot to say your name three times to get you to come.”

At that awful joke made about the character he’s dressed up as, Harry laughs loud, head tossing back and shoulders shaking, and you can’t help but join in. The sound is as infectious as his warm aura. It’s hard not to be so happy and bright when you’re surrounded by sunshine constantly. When you’re married to it. Loved so fiercely by it.

Once your giggles subside, Harry’s back to staring at you. Smiling at you. Showering you in love and affection with just those two things alone, never mind the way he caresses your hips and holds you close from where he stands still buried inside you. He’s in no hurry to leave and neither are you.

“Thoughts on tonight’s show?”

You softly grin at his question, it being the same one he always asks whenever a gig of his that you’re in attendance of is done. It doesn’t matter how many there have been, how experienced he is now, Harry still gets nervous that he hasn’t given his fans his best.

You’ve always been here to appease his concerns with truth, and you always will be. Now is no exception to that.

“Incredible.” You let your smile shine bigger and brighter, watching the weight off of his broad shoulders float away and nervous disposition melt. “You gave your absolute all as per usual. Had the whole arena eating out of your pretty hands. A night to remember forever.” A cheeky pause from you along with an even cheekier grin. “Preferred the encore, though.”

“You and I both, baby. Nothing else in this world quite like you,” he smirks, leaning in for a gentle kiss; expelling a happy hum when you engage, and then an adorable grumble when you pull away.

A laugh from you at his petulant pout, your fingers pinching his bottom lip soon chased away by his teasing teeth trying to nip the tips. “Time to go home, Beetlejuice.”

“Say it again.” There’s a dopey smile on Harry’s face now, one framed by two sweet dimples and a freckle you’ve definitely kissed as many times as you have his mouth. 

“What? Beetlejuice?” you laugh, an eyebrow quirked. “You tryin’t get me to say it three times now?”

“No,” he mumbles, a sigh of contentment leaving his grinning lips tickling yours. “Home.”

Você dava os toques finais em sua maquiagem em frente ao espelho, a luz suave realçando os olhos esfumados e o lábio inferior pintado em um vermelho vinho.

Olhando-se assim, dava aquela sensação de déjà vu, todas as fantasias, todas as fodas selvagens que você e Harry vêm tendo todos esses anos, ainda era bom pra caralho toda aquela adrenalina.

Você sorriu ajeitando a máscara pontuda sobre os olhos contente com o resultado, este ano sua fantasia ainda continuava a ser extremamente indecente como todas as outras.

O macacão preto colava em cada curva de seu corpo, deixando algumas faixas de pele à mostra, seu decote cavado, tudo era tão justo e a sensação do material colado em sua pele nua era uma carícia deliciosa constante, deixando-a ainda mais quente, as botas de salto até a coxa completavam seu visual, com um longo chicote, você era a mulher-gato perfeita.

— S/n... — A voz rouca de seu namorado preencheu o banheiro. — Puta merda.

— Gostou? — Questionou, girando lentamente, permitindo que ele observasse cada detalhe.

— Você é a mulher mais linda que já vi. — Ele caminhou lentamente até você. — Seus seios estão implorando para serem tocados, baby.

— Eu sei. — Se aproximou, deslizando as mãos pelo peitoral dele. — Você está perfeito, é difícil me concentrar em qualquer coisa além de você.

Ele deu uma voltinha vitoriosa, dando total liberdade para você admirar cada detalhe daquela fantasia, a máscara emoldurava seu rosto, a capa escura que caía perfeitamente, seu peitoral marcado no traje e o cinto de utilidades parecia muito mais grosso e interessante do que o normal.

— Me lembro de você vestida de Alice, de coelhinha, de colegial, você vem tornando isso uma tradição insuportável de esperar, sabia? — Ele se aproximou, a mão dele desceu pela sua nuca e puxou-a para perto, o corpo duro e quente pressionando o seu.

​— A culpa não é das minhas fantasias, é do seu tesão. — Você respondeu, deslizando os dedos pelas fendas do cinto de utilidades dele. — Não me lembro de o Batman ter essa protuberância, hein?

— É um acessório personalizado, só funciona perto de você. — Sorriu maliciosamente, a mão dele desceu e apertou seu quadril, com os pés afastou mais as suas pernas. — Foi um upgrade adicionado especialmente para a Mulher-Gato e o encaixe perfeito... — Ele sussurrou, a boca perto do seu ouvido — É bem aqui. — Seus dedos pressionaram o ponto quente e macio entre suas coxas, coberto pela fina camada de tecido. — Quer testar?

— Harry... — Gemeu quando ele continuou acariciando-a. — Precisamos ir.

— Você não está usando nada além desse body? — Estreitou os olhos fingindo não ouvir o seu aviso.

—Marcaria na roupa. — Deu os ombros fingindo inocência.

— Você continua a tornar as coisas difíceis para mim, não é? — Sua mão ágil conseguiu se infiltrar na fantasia. — A cada ano ficando mais ousada, você não imagina as coisas sujas que estou pensando em fazer com você hoje à noite. — Você sentiu os dedos dele tateando, buscando seu clitóris.

— Que coisas... — Suspirou.

— Eu quero deixar você exatamente assim, não vou tirar essa fantasia, quero apenas abri-la onde preciso, estar enterrado bem fundo dentro de você, que você vai tremer e gemer meu nome até ficar sem ar. — Você mal conseguiu formular uma palavra quando ele começou a massagear você com a ponta dos dedos, lento e firme. — E quando você estiver toda mole e satisfeita, pensando que acabou, eu vou começar tudo de novo e isso não é nem metade do que eu penso só de olhar para você.

— Ah, Harry... — Seu gemido foi um misto de protesto e súplica, suas mãos agarrando o braço dele com força.

Ele te puxou para mais perto te beijando, os lábios pressionando os seus, gemendo baixinho enquanto te apertava ainda mais contra si. Vocês deveriam estar na estrada agora, indo para a festa, mas tudo o que você conseguia fazer agora era gemer enquanto os dedos de Harry entravam e saíam incessantemente da sua boceta.

— Para quem não queria isso, está gostando demais, não acha? — Ele sorriu, seus lábios pressionando beijos em sua têmpora enquanto você ofegava.

— Quieto... Me faça gozar logo. — Os dedos dele deslizaram novamente para dentro da sua vagina encharcada enquanto você se contorcia em seus braços. — Isso... Mais...

Seu corpo estava reagindo a cada toque dos dedos dele, de vez em quando o polegar dele roçava seu clitóris e depois voltava a penetrá-la, você não ia conseguir se conter por muito tempo e nem queria.

Aquele prazer estava crescendo dentro de você, sua buceta latejando cada vez mais de excitação, você precisava, necessitava gozar.

— Porra... Eu estou sentindo você, amor, goza, vai...

Sua respiração falhou, suas coxas começaram a tremer e você se agarrou ainda mais a ele, tentando se segurar para não cair quando o orgasmo tomou conta de você.

— Que delícia de boceta você tem, eu nunca me canso. — Styles murmurou, tirando seus dedos em um som molhado, os chupando.

— Não fale coisas assim... — Você deu um tapinha nele sem fôlego, com as bochechas coradas e um pouco envergonhada por chegar ao orgasmo tão rápido. — Vamos logo.

— E isso daqui? — Fez biquinho, apertando sua ereção por cima do traje.

— Vai ter que esperar, amor.

— Eu vou cobrar em.

— Tá! — Revirou os olhos, dando uma ajeitada em sua roupa novamente em frente ao espelho.

Vocês desceram as escadas, prontos para a noite, Harry disse que seria uma noite cheia de surpresas e você nunca esteve tão animada, assim que entraram na garagem ele fechou seus olhos com a mão.

— Pode abrir agora.

Styles apertou um botão e a garagem se iluminou revelando uma réplica impecável e funcional do Batmóvel.

— Mentira! Harry! — Você exclamou, tapando a boca, surpresa. — Isso é... incrível! Você alugou um Batmóvel de verdade?!

— Sim!

— Como?

— Não importa, vamos, meu amor. — Afirmou, abrindo a porta do carro para você.— Está pronta?

— Claro.

A viagem até o local da festa foi icônica, a cada sinaleiro que paravam tinha alguém gravando ou tirando foto. Harry estava um pouco exibido naquela noite para se aventurar, então abaixou os vidros e deixou todos verem vocês lá dentro, talvez fossem as máscaras que provavelmente não dava para reconhece-los, mas foi divertido acenar para todas aquelas pessoas.

O Batmóvel estacionou em grande estilo na entrada principal, Harry e você foram recebidos por funcionários vestidos como mordomos góticos e recepcionistas vampiras.

Styles, como o anfitrião não mediu esforços para a festa ser glamourosa, ele havia fechado e transformado um parque de diversões inteiro no "Parque de Diversões Assombrado."

Você mal acreditou no que estava vendo, logo na entrada havia uma passarela de fumaça cobrindo o chão, o portão principal estava envolto por teias de aranha falsas, morcegos pendurados e luzes laranjas piscando.

Os estandes de comida e jogos estavam decorados com abóboras e sangrias temáticas, poções coloridas em copos translúcidos e garçons vestidos de vampiros. A roda-gigante girava lentamente, iluminada em tons de roxo, cada cabine decorada como uma mini cena de terror, a montanha-russa estava enfeitada com teias de aranha gigantes e crânios, parecendo um monstro.

A casa de Terror estava cheia de atores, zumbis, bruxas e palhaços assustadores surpreendendo os convidados. No centro do parque havia um palco enorme coberto por abóboras iluminadas, onde uma banda fantasiada de Mortos Vivos faria apresentações.

Vocês entraram de mãos dadas, acenando para alguns convidados, mas seus olhos não conseguiam parar de admirar cada detalhe que Harry preparou.

— Harry, isso está incrível!

— Eu te disse que ia ser grande.— Harry soltou uma risada curta, satisfeito com a sua reação. — Mas acho que nem eu imaginava que ficaria assim.

— Você realmente se superou.

— Eu faço o melhor para te ver assim. — Falou antes de deixar um beijo rápido em seus lábios.

O parque estava lotado de gente famosa, amigos e membros da equipe, vocês passaram um tempo cumprimentando amigos e se divertindo, o som alto da música ecoava, a festa estava no auge da loucura de Halloween, você podia ver casais se pegando em cantos escuros e grupos de amigos correndo entre a montanha-russa e a roda-gigante.

Após um longo tempo dançando e bebendo, a excitação de Harry estava visível mesmo sob o traje, porque você não parava de se esfregar nele.

— Parece que todos estão de olho em você. — Harry murmurou, passando a mão pela sua cintura. — E a cada segundo que você está exposta assim, a minha vontade de te foder aqui na frente de todos só aumenta.

— Parece que o único que não consegue tirar os olhos de mim é você. — Retrucou, passando a ponta dos dedos pelo seu pescoço. — Já que está tão desesperado, que tal parar de pensar e fazer algo?

— Vou fazer. — Segurou sua mão a puxando dali. — Mas primeiro, quero fazer outra coisa. — Ele a arrastou para a cabine de fotos, no canto da área de jogos, e fechou a cortina. — Preciso de fotos suas assim para bater uma enquanto estiver em turnê.

— Seu pervertido. — Murmurou rindo enquanto ele encostou-se no fundo da cabine e você se acomodou em seu colo.

A câmera piscou indicando o tempo e vocês sorriram, assim que o primeiro flash apareceu, na segunda ele tirou as máscaras dando um beijo em sua bochecha.

— Me beije de verdade.

Harry obedeceu, aproximando-se até que suas bocas se encontrassem, mas ele tava tão excitado que não conseguiu se conter, pressionou contra a parede, intensificando o beijo e deixando-a suspirar.

A câmera piscou, capturando o momento, mas ele não se importou, só havia uma coisa que ele queria agora, seus dedos traçaram o caminho pelo traje até a linha entre os seios, puxando-o para baixo o suficiente para colocá-los para fora, seus dedos esfregando seus mamilos endurecidos.

— Porra, eu amo como eles sempre são tão perfeitos.

Sua boca, quente e úmida, envolveu um de seus mamilos, sua língua circulou a ponta com uma pressão deliciosa, fazendo suas costas arquearem, você estava enlouquecendo só com isso, mas uma batida forte na lateral da cabine os fez parar.

— Ei! Já deu o tempo!

—Merda! — Harry soltou um grunhido abafado contra o seu pescoço. —Não vou aguentar muito tempo assim. — Seus dedos ajudaram você a ajustar o traje sobre os seus seios.

— Eu também não — você confessou, ofegante. — Mas precisamos sair daqui.

Com um último suspiro profundo, ele se endireitou, ajustou a própria roupa antes de puxar a cortina.

— Oh! Me desculpem, eu não sabia que eram vocês. — O funcionário arregalou os olhos ao vê-los saindo do espaço pequeno.

— Sem problemas. — Harry soltou um pouco irritado, depois agarrou sua mão, puxando-a pelo parque.

— Para onde estamos indo? — Você perguntou, suas pernas se movendo rapidamente para acompanhar seus passos largos.

Ele não falou nada, só continuou andando até chegarem à parte de trás do palco, onde havia um muro de tijolos.

— Eu não aguento mais, querida. — A voz dele saiu rouca, lhe causando arrepio, quando foi prensada ali.— Eu preciso de você agora, preciso foder essa boquinha linda, não importa onde.

— A Casa do Terror? — Você sugeriu, mesmo sabendo que era arriscado.

— Perfeito. — Um sorriso se formou nos lábios dele.

Vocês entraram na fila que se movia lentamente, Harry estava impaciente, tão desesperado para te foder que usou sua vantagem de ser anfitrião para passar na frente de todos.

Quando entraram, o lugar era escuro, com apenas algumas luzes vermelhas e azuis piscando, a música de suspense vinha de todos os lados com atores vestidos de monstros.

Harry a guiou apressado, desviando dos zumbis falsos e demônios, ele não queria brincar, a não ser que fosse com você. Não demorou muito para ele avistar o que queria, um corredor sombrio praticamente vazio.

Havia uma sala de projeção antiga, usada para uma cena de "hospital abandonado" A única coisa que bloqueava a visão era uma cortina grossa e velha. Harry empurrou você para dentro do cômodo, a sala era minúscula, cheia de equipamentos médicos enferrujados, uma maca e uma mesa de escritório no canto, mesmo a cortina sendo grossa, ela não chegava ao chão e as silhuetas de vocês seriam visíveis se alguém realmente parasse para olhar ali.

Ele não perdeu tempo, te empurrando contra a mesa de escritório.

— Harr... — Tentou falar, mas a mão grande dele envolveu seu pescoço.

— Quietinha. — Ele ordenou. — Agora, de joelhos, eu preciso sentir essa boquinha.

As mãos de Harry te guiaram para o chão frio e sujo, você não se importou, não era a primeira vez que fazia isso, com os olhos fixos nele abriu o traje tirando o pau ereto para fora, já brilhando com sua própria umidade.

— Baby, me queria tanto assim?

Harry não respondeu, ele puxou seu cabelo enfiando todo seu pau em sua boca até sentir a cabeça bater no fundo da sua garganta, fazendo-a engasgar, você tentou focar sua respiração e nas sensações e reações dele.

Toda vez que tirava, ouvia um gemido baixinho, toda vez que colocava novamente em sua garganta, sentia as veias pulsando contra seus lábios, os músculos da coxa dele estavam tensos e a mão no seu cabelo estava tremendo.

— Porra... — Choramingou. — Isso... assim, querida, você é tão linda... Essa boquinha foi feita para isso, né? Só pra me mamar.

Suas próprias pernas estavam fracas, um calor úmido escorrendo por entre elas, queria poder se tocar e gozar só vendo-o ali gemendo por você.

Você continuou a usar as mãos, a boca, a garganta, criando um ritmo perfeito e úmido que pela maneira que ele estava tenso sabia que iria chegar ao orgasmo logo.

— Hoje não quero assim. — Ele puxou seu cabelo, admirando seus olhos lacrimejando. — Quero sentir sua boceta tremendo ao meu redor quando eu gozar. — Suas mãos grandes agarravam sua cintura e a colocavam na mesa. — Abre para mim, amor. — Ordenou e você já estava abrindo as pernas para ele.

Suas mãos, firmes e decididas agarraram o material na junção das suas coxas, com um puxão preciso o tecido rasgou, ele havia criado uma abertura perfeita, um acesso que era só dele.

— Harry! Essa fantasia era cara! — Protestou.

— Eu disse que te comeria assim, não foi? — Ele correu a ponta dos dedos pela sua boceta exposta, fazendo-a estremecer.

Ele se encaixou entre suas pernas, suas mãos agarraram a parte de dentro dos seus joelhos, abrindo você ainda mais, ele levantou sua perna, dobrando-a sobre seu ombro. A ponta do pau dele, dura, pressionou sua entrada.

Harry entrou de uma vez, um gemido rouco escapou dos dois ao mesmo tempo, sua boceta já estava encharcada e aceitou ele facilmente, mas a intensidade, a profundidade, fez suas unhas cravarem na superfície da mesa.

Seu pau rosado e inchado estava perfeitamente apertado contra as suas paredes, tão quente e molhado que ele simplesmente não conseguia parar de meter, os quadris dele pareciam se mover sozinhos, pulsando dentro de você, suplicando para não sair, implorando para deixá-lo ter o que tanto desejava.

— Você fica tão linda tomando meu pau assim... Gosta quando eu vou fundo,não é? — Inclinou a cabeça, seus lábios encontraram a curva da sua panturrilha, deixando uma pequena mordida.

— Ai, caralho! — Choramingou, com o corpo arqueando na mesa quando ele começou a foder você com uma força que era quase impiedosa.

— Porra, você me aperta demais. — Ele rosnou, entre dentes cerrados. — Se continuar assim, vai me fazer gozar.

Mas você não tinha controle sobre como sua boceta se contraía em torno dele agora, não com ele acertando aquele ponto que fazia seus olhos tremerem de prazer e seus joelhos amolecerem.

Harry parou por um instante, ofegante, fazendo-a soltar um gemido de frustração, uma de suas mãos soltou seu quadril e foi até o cinto de utilidades do Batman, tirando um pequeno vibrador discreto, que ele pressionou diretamente no seu clitóris já sensível e inchado.

— Tinha isso guardado o tempo todo?

— Nunca se sabe quando vou precisar usá-lo. — Um choque de prazer tão intenso percorreu seu corpo, fazendo-o se contorcer. — Olha para mim. — Styles ordenou, agarrando seu queixo, forçando seu rosto para cima.

E então ele começou a se mover de novo,

o duplo estímulo era delicioso, cada investida dele empurrava o vibrador contra você, cada vibração fazia suas paredes se contraírem, sua visão estava embaçada, seus dedos se enterrando nos braços dele.

O orgasmo a atingiu sem que percebesse ou conseguisse controlá-lo, um gritinho contido escapou de seus lábios presos entre os dentes, enquanto suas pernas tremiam incontrolavelmente sobre os ombros dele, mas Harry não parou, o vibrador continuou zumbindo impiedosamente contra seu clitóris superestimulado, o pênis dele entrando e saindo ainda com mais facilidade, prolongando a onda de prazer em algo tão intenso que beirava a dor, até você começar a sentir aquela sensação crescendo novamente em seu ventre.

— Espera, Harry, por favor, eu não consigo gozar de novo... — Choramingou com os olhos lacrimejando.

— Sim, você consegue, eu sei que consegue, meu amor, não seria a primeira vez, não é?

— Mas está tão sensível... Amor...

— Quieta, essa boceta é minha e eu faço o que eu quero. — Soltou um leve sorriso malicioso, não se importando, dando a você mais um orgasmo intenso, tão intenso que esguichou, encharcando toda sua fantasia, a mesa e ele. — Isso, você ficou ainda mais linda assim.

Mesmo assim ele não tirou o vibrador, pelo contrário, pressionou mais, fazendo você gritar quando as sensações continuaram.

— Ahhh.... Baby... Por favor... — Você se contorcia em volta dele. — Estou... Me dá um descanso...

Harry riu e só parou e tirou o vibrador quando o terceiro te deixou praticamente amolecida, em êxtase em seus braços.

— Já cansou amor?

Você não conseguia dizer nada, mas sabia que ele também estava perto porque suas estocadas firmes e profundas diminuiriam, ele continuou a te foder buscando aquele êxtase, vê-la completamente desfeita, o corpo ainda tremendo, a boca entreaberta soltando gemidos tão gostosinhos era demais para Harry aguentar.

— Vou encher você todinha. — Ele rosnou no seu ouvido. — Quero ver minha porra escorrendo nessa boceta linda. — Seus quadris encontraram um ritmo mais profundo, você podia sentir ele cada vez mais perto do limite. — Caralho... — Ele gemeu, enterrando até o fundo quando o primeiro jorro quente inundou você por dentro.

Ele continuou se movendo devagar, prolongando o próprio prazer enquanto bombeava mais dentro de você, até que ele finalmente parou ofegante, ainda profundamente enterrado em sua boceta.

— Como eu te amo. — Deixou um selinho em seus lábios enquanto a respiração de ambos começa a acalmar.

Ele gentilmente abaixou sua perna do ombro, tirou sua máscara e a dele, suas mãos não a soltaram, deslizando para sua cintura e a abraçando, deixando vários beijinhos por seu pescoço.

— Tem uma coisa que eu preciso te dar. — Styles sussurrou em seu ouvido.

— O que? — Você o afastou só o suficiente para olhar em seus olhos.

Uma de suas mãos sumiu por um instante no cinto de utilidades mais uma vez, tirando de lá agora um pequeno anel de ouro com um diamante.

— O que é isso?

— Depois de todos esses Halloweens, todas as fantasias, todas as loucuras, todos os momentos em que pensei que não poderia te desejar mais, eu só tenho uma certeza. — Ele segurava o anel entre vocês dois. — É você, é sempre você, a mulher da minha vida, minha melhor e mais viciante tradição. — Ele se inclinou para frente, sua testa tocando a sua, o anel pressionado suavemente contra seu coração. — Casa comigo? Faz todo Halloween até o último das nossas vidas oficialmente nosso?

O ar pareceu parar, tudo sumiu e só o que existia era o calor dele ainda dentro de você e aqueles olhos verdes vidrados em você, brilhando de felicidade.

— Sim! — Você disse, sem conseguir conter a voz trêmula, as lágrimas escorrendo pelos lados do rosto. — Sim, Harry, é lógico, sim.

Seus lábios se encontram em um beijo molhado e salgado, muito diferente dos anteriores, este era mais lento, profundo, quando se separaram, ofegantes, ele deslizou o anel no seu dedo, a aliança se encaixou perfeitamente, como se sempre tivesse pertencido a você.

— Então é oficial. — Os quadris dele se moveram suavemente. — A partir de agora, toda vez que eu te foder como se não houvesse amanhã, será com a minha noiva e futura esposa.

— Sim! — Um suspiro trêmulo escapou dos seus lábios ao sentir ele pulsar novamente, já começando a endurecer. — Caralho, só de me dar um anel você ficou duro de novo?

— É o efeito que você tem em mim. — A puxou para um outro beijo, dessa vez ficando mais quente. — Sempre foi. — Seus quadris já estavam se movendo de novo, trazendo aquela sensação gostosa de volta.

— O que você está... — Sua pergunta foi interrompida pelos lábios dele enquanto ele entrava e tirava seu pau de você novamente.

— Lembra do que falei que queria fazer com você? — Murmurou entre beijos molhados. — Que quando você estivesse toda mole e satisfeita, pensando que acabou... — Ele parecia viciado pela sensação de estar dentro de você. — Eu começaria tudo de novo e eu sempre cumpro minhas promessas, futura esposa.