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lemoncrushh · 5 months ago

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What Happens In Vegas...

Summary: Your Vegas trip to celebrate your friend's birthday turns into a night you hadn't expected when you meet Harry Styles in the casino.

Warnings: Fingering, hand kink, gambling (well, it is Vegas). 18+ ONLY!

Word Count: 3533

A/N: One shot originally posted in 2017. Inspired by Harry's performance at the iHeart Festival in Las Vegas. Edited to be a reader fic. This is for the gals with the obsession with his hands. Also, rereading this, I realized you aren't that great of a friend, but hopefully you can look past that lol.

"Thank you," he said to the crowd. "I am a narcissist, so that will help my ego, thank you very much."

"Oh God," you rolled your eyes. "Like he needs any help boosting his ego."

You felt Simone poke you in the side, her apparent glare of disapproval burning a hole into your profile. You chuckled as you lowered your head. She'd drug you to this iHeart Radio concert in Vegas. You hadn't really wanted to go when she announced she had tickets, but because it was part of her birthday trip, you'd agreed to attend.

Harry Styles. Give me a break, you groaned. The kid had come out looking like a cross between a court jester and a Tim Burton character in his harlequin suit and nearly see-through shirt with a big bow at the neck, and you were supposed to swoon? Apparently so, you thought to yourself when you heard the crowd made up of mostly females fill the room with screams louder than any heavy metal audience you'd ever been a part of. And you supposed the bow was supposed to signify his desire to be a present you were to unwrap?

You giggled during his set as he pranced across stage trying to be a rockstar. You had to hand it to him. He definitely had the stage presence and charisma, and despite the fact that you'd never been a fan of boy bands, you could see why he had so many fans. Plus, you had to admit even if only to yourself, he had an incredibly handsome face. No doubt he knew it though.

Stepping further out to the catwalk, Harry gave the audience what they came for, even if they hadn't initially come to see him in particular. You couldn't help it though. Watching him dance around in that suit had you laughing, especially when he'd bop his head from side to side as he sang about "having your baby" and "it's none of your business."

By the time his set was over and he'd walked off stage, you knew Simone was waiting to let you have it. You gave her a smirk as she shook her head at you and rolled her eyes.

"I don't wanna hear it," she said.

"What? I didn't say anything!" you laughed.

"No, but you're thinking it."

"What?" you held up your hands. "It was actually not bad. I kinda liked it."

"You thought it was funny."

"Yeah," you laughed harder. "It was. But that last song's gonna be stuck in my head for a while, so you should be happy about that."

"Ugh," Simone groaned.

You stayed for a few more acts that you didn't think were much better before finally calling it a night and heading back to your hotel.

"You're going to bed?" you asked when you saw Simone pull her bag of toiletries from her suitcase and walk to the bathroom.

"Yeah...why?"

"This is Vegas!" you exclaimed. "The city that never sleeps."

"I thought that was New York."

"Whatever. Let's go hit the tables."

Simone slumped her shoulders. "I'm kinda beat."

You stuck out your bottom lip in an attempt to sway her with a pout. "But your birthday's not over."

With a sigh, Simone dropped her items on the bed and grabbed her purse.

"C'mon," she grinned. "Just an hour or two."

"Yay!" you squealed as you opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

Luck was on your side for the first twenty minutes or so, and you were up a good three hundred when you suggested you make your way to the higher dollar tables.

"Are you kidding?" exclaimed Simone. "You'll lose it all on one bet!"

"It's called gambling," you snorted.

Despite her argument, Simone followed you to one of the exclusive rooms. You saw the pit boss eye you as you sat down at the table, but he didn't say anything when you laid down your chips. Hesitantly, Simone did the same and you caught her swallow hard when the dealer placed a card in front of her and then one in front of you, followed by two more cards facing up. You grinned when yours was an ace, and the dealer slid the cards into the finder. Flipping up the bottom card, he revealed a Jack.

"Woohoo!" you cheered.

"Damn, you are on a streak," Simone commented as she decided to stay on a six. Unfortunately, the dealer didn't bust and she lost. "Crap. I'm gonna sit the next one out. Meet you at the bar?"

You were barely listening. Something - or someone - had caught your eye as he walked across the room.

"I'll be damned," you muttered.

"Huh?"

"Look who just walked in," you nodded toward your right. "Mr. Ego himself."

"Holy shit!" Simone breathed. "Ooh he looks good, too. He changed out of his suit."

You turned your head slightly to notice that he indeed was wearing a basic white t-shirt and black jeans.

"Well of course," you mocked. "Even a narcissist like himself can't keep up the facade all night."

"Stop calling him that," Simone argued. "You know he was just being cheeky, and he doesn't have a big ego."

"Please," you rolled your eyes. "His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow."

"All bets up," you heard the dealer say.

"Oh, I'm done," Simone shook her head while you placed another healthy bet.

The dealer slid the cards in front of you. Your top card was a three. Not good. you took a peek at your bottom card. A queen. Shit. Fortunately the dealer had a four, so he was likely to bust. you went with the odds and stayed. Turning over his bottom card, the dealer revealed a ten. Taking another card, he turned over a king. Yes!

"Oh my God woman, you have some luck!"

You beamed at Simone just as you heard another voice behind you.

"Ah, wonderful," he clapped. "Looks like I picked the lucky table."

"Hello."

It was Simone who actually spoke. For the first time ever, it seemed you were tongue-tied.

"Hi," Harry greeted. You caught a glimpse of his dimpled grinned before his fingers grazed your back and he took the seat next to you.

Clearing your throat, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Harry placed a stack of chips on the table. But it wasn't the obvious amount of money he was willing to chuck on a single bet that caught your attention the most. It was his hand and the lovely rings that adorned it.

You'd always had a thing for nice hands on a man. And Harry definitely had them. Long, slender fingers, great for playing piano, guitar and...other things.

The cards were dealt, and you peeked at your bottom card. You already had seventeen and the dealer had a five showing. You were definitely going to stay. You watched Harry's hand as he tapped lightly on the table, seeming to contemplate his next move. Suddenly, he leaned towards you and whispered.

"What should I do?"

You raised a brow. "Excuse me?" The kid didn't know how to play?

"Well, I...I know the rules of the game. It's just...you seem to have the luck on your side, so I wanna make sure I make the right move."

"Oh," you chuckled. You looked at the dealer's card and pointed. "He's only got a five. Odds are, he's gonna bust."

"And why's that?"

"Because...the dealer has to get to at least seventeen. You have to assume he has a ten underneath. So that's only fifteen. The next card has a high chance of being a ten or a face card. That would make him bust. So...you have a three. If the card you're not showing is anything over an eight, you're gonna want to stay."

"What if it's an eight?"

You grinned. "Well then, that's eleven. You're gonna want to double down."

With a stoic expression, Harry grabbed a stack of chips the same height as the first and placed them next to it. Then he nodded and gestured at the dealer who laid another card down for him. A queen. When the dealer revealed his own cards, your prediction had been right and he busted. Harry turned to you with a Cheshire cat smile.

"Thanks, love," he said.

You couldn't help but smile back. "Anytime."

You played several rounds, both of you winning most of them except when the dealer got an automatic blackjack. You heard Simone yawn behind you, and you felt a tinge of guilt that you'd almost forgotten about her.

"Are you ready to go?" you asked her.

"Yeah, but you can stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course." Then she leaned to whisper in your ear. "I told you he's not a bad guy."

You pursed your lips. "I didn't say he was."

"Yeah...you kinda did."

"Okay, okay," you nudged her. "We'll talk about it later."

You said a quick goodnight, and she walked away just as Harry got another blackjack. He hooted, making the dealer chuckle.

"I reckon you're good luck," Harry beamed at you.

You shrugged, nonchalantly. "I have my moments."

You watched as Harry inspected his next facedown card, completely mesmerized by his hands. You suddenly felt flushed as you wondered what they would feel like on you. You blinked hard and shook your head. What the hell was wrong with you?

"I really like that ring," you finally said aloud.

"Which one?"

"That rose-shaped one. Very pretty."

"Thanks," he looked at the ring and back up at you. "It's one of my favorites."

A handful of games later, you realized you must be up at least a grand. Unfortunately, luck only lasted so long, and you started to lose, busting a couple times and then staying when the dealer got a twenty.

"I think it's time to cash in," you admitted. "While I'm still ahead."

"Oh, don't go," said Harry. "You're my good luck charm."

You laughed. "I'm sure that's not true. You're doing great on your own."

"Stay. Please."

You sucked in your lips as you looked at his face. Goodness, he was cute. Perhaps you had been a little harsh, dismissing him merely because of who he was...or rather, who you suspected him to be. It wasn't fair.

"Okay, but I'm not playing anymore."

"Then we'll play something else," Harry suggested. "Craps? Roulette?"

"I'm not good at either of those," you frowned.

"Roulette's easy. It's just a guessing game. C'mon."

Taking your chips, you followed Harry to the roulette table where a larger crowd was gathered.

"Pick a number," he said.

"That easy, huh?"

"Sure," he shrugged.

"There's probably more to it than that, but I have no idea," you commented.

"Probably. But we're just playing for fun."

You watched the wheel spin and the little ball stop in the number twenty-two. A woman squealed and the dealer paid her her winnings.

"Playing for fun is for Monopoly money," you said. "This is real money."

Harry chuckled. "So was blackjack."

"Yeah, but I know how to play that."

"Pick a number, love," he said again. "Or a color if you'd rather."

You looked at the board and considered your options. Finally, you chose the number thirty-five. You watched Harry's fingers as he placed a stack of chips on the number itself, more on the column, and even more on black. You weren't sure how much money that was, but you weren't about to ask. Your stomach was in knots as you watched the wheel spin. Finally, the ball stopped.

"Number eleven!" the dealer shouted. Your heart sank, but you caught Harry smiling.

"What happened?" you asked.

"You won," he replied. "Twice."

"Huh? How'd I do that? He called eleven."

"Eleven is black and it's in the same column as thirty-five. That's where I put the bets."

"Oh," you mouthed.

Harry rubbed his hand up your back. "Told you, you're my good luck charm. Now pick another number."

"I can't keep betting with your money!"

"Alright. Then we'll use yours," he reached for your hand.

"Hey!"

Harry laughed harder, grabbing only a few of your chips. "C'mon, pick something."

"Fine, but I'm just choosing black."

"Black it is," Harry nodded, setting your chips down. Then he took more of his own and placed them between several different numbers in different places. you weren't sure what he was doing, you were lost. Finally, he turned to you.

"Have an idea," he said.

Sliding the rose ring off his finger, he kissed it, then placed it on top of your chips on the black.

"What's that for?" you inquired.

"That's yours if you win."

All you could do was stare at him. The dealer spun the wheel, you could hear the ball bouncing and the other players cheering. But you just stood there staring at Harry Styles. This guy you'd thought was a complete egotistical douchebag until about thirty minutes ago.

"Number seventeen!" the dealer called.

You cringed, trying to read the expression on Harry's face. But he merely stared back at you.

"Is seventeen black?" you asked him.

He threw his head back and let out a loud guffaw. "Yes, it is."

Your eyes grew wide and you pushed his chest with your hands. "What the fuck, no way!"

Harry continued to laugh as he covered your hands with his that clung to his t-shirt. Your eyes fell down to look at them and it was then that you noticed his shirt was almost sheer, just like the one he'd worn on stage, minus the pineapple shapes. You could see several splashes of ink displayed on his chest, and for a second you wished he would let you examine them all in private.

Your chest rose and fell from excitement and exhilaration, and you chuckled to yourself. Letting go of you, Harry collected the winnings and his ring.

"Here you are," he said, handing it to you.

"No," you shook your head. "No, I can't take that."

"Why not? I said it was yours if you won."

"This is too..." you felt the ring in your hand momentarily. "No, I can't accept it."

Twisting his mouth in confusion, Harry watched you as you slid the ring back on his gorgeous finger.

"That's where it belongs," you whispered.

"Sorry?"

"On your hand," you let out a sigh. "You have really beautiful hands."

You heard him giggle slightly as you continued to stare at them, taking them both in your own hands as though you were inspecting them. You were probably creeping him out, but you were lost in your own thoughts.

"Um...here's your...your money," he swallowed, releasing his hand from yours and reaching for your chips.

"Oh, thanks. I should..."

"No, thank you," his lips curled up. "I really do think you had a lucky streak tonight."

You grinned at him, your tongue darting out of the corner of your mouth. "Not completely lucky."

Harry's smile grew as he raised a brow at your cheeky comment.

"See ya, Harry," you winked and turned around. "I had fun."

"Wait, where are you going?" you felt his hand on your arm.

"To my room," you pointed up at the ceiling.

"Do you have to?"

You paused and glared at him. This guy was very hard to read. You could tell he'd been flirting with you, but it also could've been harmless, and he was just being kind. Now he didn't want you to go? You bit your lip and stepped closer to him.

"I guess not," you nearly whispered. "But I think I might be done with gambling for the night."

"No worries," he said low, his eyes looking down into yours. "We could go somewhere else."

"What'd you have in mind?"

"My room."

You should have known he'd have one of the biggest rooms in the hotel. It took up nearly the entire side of one floor, front to back. You stared out the windows at the city lights, the amazing view taking your breath away and making you feel alive at the same time.

"Here you are," you heard Harry say behind you.

You turned to see two glasses in his hands. Taking one from him, you murmured a thank you and took a sip of the best tequila you'd ever had in your life. You threw your head back with a sigh as you heard him hum in agreement.

"So you stay in rooms like this...all by yourself?"

"Yes. Sometimes."

"Must get lonely."

"Sometimes."

Taking another sip, you strolled around the outer perimeter of the room, stopping at the other corner window where you could see a view of the mountains.

"I love Vegas," you commented. "I used to want to move here. It's like it's own little word, separate fr-"

Suddenly, your glass left your hand and Harry set it on a nearby table. Then he grabbed you and kissed you, hard, his tongue darting deep into your mouth.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded as his lips traveled down your neck.

"What?" you asked, breathless.

"What you want me to do to you. I'll do whatever you like."

"Oh..." you said with a moan. "Your hands. I want your hands on me."

"Okay. Where do you like to be touched?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere. I just...I want those gorgeous hands and fingers on me."

Harry's eyes met yours, and he nodded his understanding. Reaching behind you, he found the zipper of your dress. It fell to the floor instantly, pooling at your feet. Though there was a cool temperature in the room, you suddenly felt hot all over as Harry's gaze roamed your body. Then giving you his hand, you stepped out of your dress and kicked off your heels. He pulled you closer to him until his hands cupped your naked breasts. You shut your eyes at the contact, the sensation already more than you could bear.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his thumbs grazing over your nipples causing goosebumps to rise over your flesh.

You covered his hands with yours, slowly guiding one of them down to your panty line.

"Mmm," he sounded as his fingers slid down and met wetness.

You heard his breaths quicken with yours, and he swallowed hard. His fingertip touched the outer rim of your center, teasing you in tiny circles. You bucked your hips to allow him access, but he was insistent on keeping with his own rhythm.

"Please," you begged softly.

"Not yet, love," he cooed.

Releasing his hand, he pushed your panties down and off. Then he kissed you again before guiding you to the plush sofa. He sat down and pulled you on top of him so that you straddled him, your hands on his shoulders. His eyes dark and lids heavy, his hands caressed you softly before kneading your breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples.

You moaned low, wishing he would put his mouth on them, but you could tell he was taking you at your word, giving you exactly what you'd asked for. You looked down at his hands as one slowly slid down your stomach, and his thumb met your already swollen bud.

"Oh God," you panted, lifting yourself on your knees so he had better access.

Harry then brought his hand to his mouth where you watched him lick two fingers before returning them to your clit. He stroked you slowly, making your knees buckle until he finally, ever so gently, inserted one finger, then a second.

You threw your head back, your own hands clawing at the neck of his t-shirt as you rode his fingers. You could feel the cold chill of his rings against your skin and you let out another cry of pleasure.

"Tell me how it feels," you heard him say as he picked up speed.

"So good," you breathed, urging his other hand up your breast to your neck. "Feels so good."

Harry brought his fingers to your mouth, where you licked the tips seductively before sucking.

"Mmhmm," he agreed. "You look so good, too."

"I want you," you sounded, looking at his face, his shirt in your fist.

Harry chuckled. "I'm right here."

"I want you inside me," you clarified.

"I am inside you," he smirked. Cocky asshole.

"No," you pouted, sliding your hand down his chest to the bulge in his jeans.

"You said you wanted my hands." Harry raised a brow smugly, his fingers nearly finding just the right spot. You leaned towards him, your head falling in the crook of his neck.

"Please."

"I'm gonna watch you come like this," he said. "Then we'll fuck, yeah?"

You moaned against his skin, your hips bucking as you felt yourself reach your peak.

"Say my name when you come," he growled.

You looked into his eyes and smiled. "So you are a narcissist. I knew it."

"You bet I am."

You rolled your eyes, but not at him. The truth was, there was no way you couldn't have said his name. He made you come harder than anyone ever had. Twice.

Harry Styles and his fucking ego.

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