Summary: A weekend trip to meet his girlfriend’s family takes a strange turn when Harry is forced to sleep in a guest room all alone in her parent's sprawling, eerie house. Except... maybe he's not alone at all.
A/N: Happy Friday and happy almost Halloween! This was first posted on Patreon!
Word Count: 6,548
Warning: Psychological unease, creepy old house and creepy people, blow job scene.
. .
Harry hummed along to the song on the radio as he drove down the slim, snaky road, canopied in tall pines and oaks. He glanced over at his girlfriend, Uma, who was asleep next to him, curled up in the passenger seat. She'd been, since about thirty miles before. He'd need to wake her soon because he was sure they were getting closer to her parents' house, if the GPS was correct.
Harry and his girlfriend were taking a big step in their relationship. He was going to be meeting her parents for the first time. He'd been hesitant when the idea was first proposed. They'd only been together for 6 months, but maybe 6 months was the right amount of time for that sort of thing. Harry wasn't sure. But he knew he liked Uma a lot and imagined himself with her in the future. And she seemed really insistent on having him come to her family home and stay the weekend with her, so he said yes.
The pines thickened, branches knifing together to blot out the last streaks of dusk. Harry turned on the headlights, and their beams sliced out only a thin corridor of road, all else vanishing into blackness. His fingers tightened on the wheel. When Uma shifted, she sighed, and for a moment, he thought she was waking. But her head only lolled toward the window, her lips parted, and the glass fogged with her exhale. He swallowed and leaned into the hum of the music again.
When the GPS told him he was arriving at his destination, he slowed and veered right toward the opening of the trees and passed through, tires catching on gravel as the old Subaru bumped along the rough road. Then, rising out of the darkness, like some forgotten fortress wedged into the hills, stood Uma’s family home, a wrought iron gate wide open and waiting for them to cross its threshold. He slowed down and stole another glance at Uma before he drove them through the gates. Beyond them, the driveway wound in a slow incline as the headlights swept across the grounds. Looking at the house, Harry decided it was the perfect setting for a horror story to take place… stone walls, tall windows sunk like eyes into its face, a roofline that clawed and jagged against the black sky.
"Creepy," he whispered under his breath.
When he parked, he kept the car running and his hands on the wheel. There were hardly any lights on from inside the house. One was on in what looked like a room on the second floor, and a singular faint glow at the front door, something that hardly illuminated the sprawling porch. Harry breathed in and flicked off the radio. And finally, Uma stirred, eyelids fluttering open as though she had been summoned by the nearness of home. She stretched her limbs and smiled softly at him.
“We’re here,” Harry said.
Uma leaned forward, pushing her palm against the dash as if to steady herself, eyes still heavy with sleep. She blinked at the looming silhouette of the house and then she smiled as though this was the exact sight she had been longing for.
Harry shut off the engine, though he had briefly considered hightailing it out of there. The soft glow of the porch light barely pushed against the dark, and he thought, absurdly, that the glow looked like a candle lit for the dead.
Uma touched his arm. “I know it looks scary in the dark,” she teased, though her voice was hushed, like she didn’t want the house to overhear. “It won't bite.”
The heavy front door creaked open before they’d even reached the steps. Her father filled the doorway, tall, shoulders sloping, hand hooked casually on the frame as if he owned not only the threshold but the right to decide who crossed it. He didn’t step forward to reach for his daughter or meet them halfway. He waited, forcing them to close the space.
“Dad, this is Harry!” Uma chirped as she tugged Harry up the steps, and then her hand slipped away from him when her mother appeared. She leaned in close to her, brushing a kiss over her cheek. The contact was fleeting, not the loose, laughing embrace Harry was used to seeing when Uma met friends back in the city. Uma smiled anyway, soft and unforced.
Her father's shoulders hunched slightly forward as he appraised his daughter's new suitor before he bent at the waist, and Uma wrapped her arms around him. He returned it with one arm only, his other still braced against the frame. But the hug was terse, and Uma stepped back politely. Even Harry felt uncomfortable.
“You made it,” he said. “Hope the drive wasn't bad.”
Harry blinked. That was his cue to speak. "Yeah. Getting out of the city took a bit, but after the turnpike, it was smooth sailing." He scratched the back of his neck and slid his eyes over Uma and her parents. "And, uh, thank you so much for welcoming me into your home."
Uma’s mother stepped back inside the house, tilting her head toward the shadows behind her. “Bring your bags in, just here by the door,” she instructed gently, though the tone left no room for argument. “We’ll get them where they belong later.”
Harry shifted the strap of his duffel off his shoulder and set it against the wall, Uma doing the same with hers. The house was lit low inside, making shadows dance off every movement. Something tipped into his calf, a quick dark shape that darted away and then vanished.
That was when two more figures appeared at the end of the corridor. A boy, gangly, maybe seventeen, one hand stuffed into the pocket of his jeans, shoulders folded inward, a lot like Uma's father. His hair was dark, untidy, and he didn’t bother with a smile. He just stood there, studying Harry quietly.
Trailing just behind was a girl, a little younger, her braid swinging against her back as she walked with deliberate slowness. She didn’t come too close, but paused beside an old console table lined with candles in silver holders. Her fingers brushed the edge of the wax, her nail peeling at the surface.
Uma’s mother gestured, almost formally. “These are our younger two. Joel.” The boy looked down. “And Pearl.”
Pearl's gaze was direct and startlingly calm for someone her age. She smiled, but it didn't feel real.
“Hi,” Harry offered. “Nice to meet you both.”
The pair didn't respond. Joel blinked and looked at Uma, and Pearl turned her attention back to the candles. Harry cleared his throat and shifted. The car keys were heavy in his pocket, which was where he'd be keeping them. Close by. Just in case.
Uma stepped into the space, as if to bridge the awkwardness, her hand brushing Harry’s sleeve. “They’ve been waiting to meet you,” she said brightly, though Harry wasn’t sure he believed it. In fact, he was positive she was just trying to lighten the mood. Not a single family member seemed happy that he was there.
Behind them, a shape sauntered noiselessly across the floor. A black cat, tail high, weaving around Pearl's legs before settling beneath the console. So it had been a cat that had bumped into his leg when he stepped into the house.
Uma’s father clapped a hand down against the doorframe. “Come,” he said, turning. “Dinner’s waiting.”
Uma reached for Harry’s hand again, and they followed her parents deeper into the house, the siblings trailing them. Portraits lined the hallway, their eyes dark with varnish, watching. Harry caught himself staring at a woman painted in a dress the color of bruises, her throat marked by a thin scar the artist had chosen to keep.
When they stepped into the kitchen, it was dark at first and it had Harry a bit on edge, like he was about to encounter something awful. Then, Uma's mother flicked the lights on, and a bright sconce filled the room with light at once. Harry noticed the table was already fully set. A table for ten, set for seven. Plates, knives, forks, napkins… And at the center were dishes full of food for serving. Harry quickly did a count in his head and wondered who the 7th person was.
He also tried not to think of how odd it was that they had a full dinner set out and ready on the table with the lights off. But maybe it wasn't strange. Perhaps they just liked saving on electric costs. That, Harry could understand.
"Here, kitty, kitty!" Pearl sang out when their cat padded into the room. Black, sleek, each step liquid. She paused, her tail flicked, then curled, and her eyes were golden, fastened on Harry with curious focus.
Uma’s father pulled out the chair at the head of the table, lowering himself with a quiet groan. Her mother settled at the other end, her hands folding loosely in her lap before she picked up her napkin and smoothed it across her knees.
Uma guided Harry toward the chair beside her own, midway down the table. He sat on the cushion, trying not to notice the empty spot directly across from him, set as if someone were expected but missing. The polished silverware gleamed in the light, and the china plates, patterned with ivy, seemed too fine for such an ordinary visit. Or maybe this kind of thing was a big deal to them. Harry wondered if they were used to receiving visitors and silently decided they were probably not.
The food at the center of the table looked almost out of place. A roast chicken, browned and glossy. A dish of carrots glistening with butter. Mashed potatoes in a porcelain bowl with an old silver serving spoon. Pitchers of water and a dark red wine.
Harry reached for the serving spoon, but Uma’s father spoke, interrupting his motion. “Uma.” He knocked his head to the side, communicating something silently, and she flushed slightly, setting her hand on Harry’s wrist before taking the spoon herself and scooping potatoes onto her plate, then his.
As she plated her food and his, Uma's father bowed his head, and a low humming filled the air instead of words. A sound that made Harry’s skin prickle, too long, too measured. Like a prayer or a chant that only he participated in.
Conversation didn't begin right away. The first sounds were of people eating, wine being poured, and the clank of forks on porcelain.
Harry cleared his throat. “This looks… fantastic. Thank you.”
Uma’s mother smiled briefly as she sliced a cut of chicken to eat. Her father chewed a mouthful of carrots and set his knife down with precision, the blade angled exactly against the plate’s rim.
Finally, Uma filled the silence. “Harry’s been working on a big campaign at his firm,” she said brightly. “One of those billboard things, you know the kind, where the picture changes when the weather does? He can tell you about it.”
Harry hesitated, but Joel’s dark eyes had shifted toward him, expectant. So he launched into it, describing the concept, how commuters saw one message in sunshine, another in rain. He kept it brief, trying to make it sound casual.
Joel leaned back, one brow ticking up. “So… ads that know the weather. That’s… weird.”
Uma laughed, and the sound loosened the tension by a hair. “Weird’s good. It gets people to notice, right?”
Even Pearl smirked faintly at that, lifting her glass with both hands and sipping carefully. “Sounds futuristic,” she commented.
Harry smiled back, relieved at the tiny flicker of normalcy. Uma’s knee brushed his under the table, bringing him back to what really mattered and why he was there.
Still, the cat’s eyes never left him. Every time he glanced toward the sideboard, she was there, tail flicking once, gaze unblinking, as though taking stock of every word he said.
Uma’s mother broke her silence at last, voice soft but cutting through. “Autumn is the season for honesty,” she said. She picked a piece of chicken delicately from the bone, lips barely parting. “Leaves fall. Things are bare. People see more clearly than they want to.”
Joel chuckled under his breath. “That’s Mom’s way of saying you’ll get no lies past us.”
Uma elbowed him lightly, and for a flicker of a second, the siblings shared something that actually felt warm.
Harry took a long swallow of water, throat tight. His wine sat untouched in his glass. He didn't want to be rude and not have any, but he'd seen the scary movies before where the guest was poisoned, whether tea or wine… It was a ridiculous thought, he realized, but the poisoned characters also thought the same, and look where it got them. He set his fork down carefully, trying to make the least amount of noise possible. If he could shrink himself into a smaller size, he would.
Uma’s father leaned back in his chair, surveying them all. “Eat,” he said, low, almost indulgent. “The night is long.”
The words hung over the table, cryptic and too heavy, but for some reason, no one else seemed to find anything odd. The empty plate across from him, intentionally sat for someone, her father's low humming before he took his first bite, the cat's eyes watching… not to mention how strange her family was overall. He was even beginning to wonder about Uma, if she felt like any of this was normal.
The meal ended, but not fast enough for Harry's liking. Even with Uma attempting to keep everyone talking, it was strained and disquieting. One moment Joel was still pushing carrots across his plate, Pearl sipping the last of her wine with exaggerated care, and the next, Uma’s mother was rising, gathering dishes silently. Pearl slid in to help her, stacking forks on top of porcelain, her braid swinging over her shoulder. Joel disappeared without a word, leaving his chair angled away from the table.
Harry stood, nudged Joel's chair into place (just in case), and offered a hand with the dishes, but Uma caught his wrist and shook her head. “They’ll handle it,” she whispered, eyes reaching past him to her mother and then her father. There was something urgent in her tone, almost warning.
Her father lingered at the head of the table until the last plate was gone, then finally pushed back his chair in no hurry. “You’ll want a tour before the night gets on too far,” he said. "Uma." He looked at his daughter with a nod, and she smiled, taking Harry's hand.
Harry wasn’t sure what that meant, but Uma tugged him out of the kitchen and up the stairs before he could consider it for much longer.
The second floor was also dark, shadows pooling in the angles where the wall sconces had burned out. She kept her hand in his, leading him past old portraits and paintings, then hollow dark rooms, until at last she opened a door at the very end of the hall.
Her room was warmer than he expected. The wallpaper was a faded print of foxes, the edges peeling to show its age. A bed with a heavy quilt sat in the corner, and a low window with curtains covering it. It felt better in her room, away from her parents and siblings and the dark corners of the old house.
Uma shut the door behind them, and Harry relaxed immediately, but there was one lingering question buzzing in his mind that he needed to know the answer to.
"The table was set for 7. Was there another person expected?"
"No," she said, leading him to her bed to sit. "It's for my grandmother. She passed away like ten years ago. Mother still insists on setting a place for her."
He nodded. So it had been for sentimentality. It made some sense, he figured. But before he could ask her another question, Uma crawled over his legs, straddling his lap, her arms twining around his neck. The sudden intimacy made him laugh nervously, but she silenced it with her mouth, her lips moving against his with urgency. Harry let himself sink into the feel of her, the weight of her body pressing him down, her hands sliding over his chest, tugging at the fabric of his shirt.
For the first time since arriving, he wasn’t thinking about how creepy the whole house and her parents were. All he could focus on was Uma’s warmth, the soft sound she made when he kissed her deeper, the press of her heartbeat against his.
Her fingers slipped beneath his collar, tracing his skin, and he groaned low in his throat, finally feeling settled. He placed his hands on her over her hips and pulled at her, a soft moan breaking from his throat.
But the moment was ripped in half when her door was pushed open. No knock. Just the old wood swinging wide without permission.
Uma’s mother stood there, watching her daughter and their guest with heaving chests and wide eyes. Harry shuffled but Uma stayed on his lap, clutching at his shoulders.
“It’s time to part for the night.”
Harry blinked and looked at his girlfriend, brows folding together in confusion, but her expression was simply apologetic. “I—what?”
Her mother stepped further in, the hem of her long skirt dragging against the floorboards. “Guests don’t sleep in family rooms. You’ll have your own.”
Uma pulled back, color flooding her cheeks. “But—” she said, looking at her mother. “Why can't he stay here? Just tonight. Please.”
Her mother’s eyes flicked to her daughter, then to Harry, then back again. “He may not,” she said.
Harry swallowed. He was totally caught off guard. Uma had never mentioned this, and it seemed silly given they were both adults and were already used to sleeping next to one another.
But then Uma’s father appeared behind her mother, filling the frame. “You’ll rest better on the other side of the house.”
Uma’s hands lingered on Harry’s chest, as if she could keep him there by sheer will. “It’s stupid,” she whispered fiercely, her forehead pressing against his temple. “I’ll come get you early. I promise.”
But she drew back when her father cleared his throat, sliding off his lap and moving away. Harry realized that his fate had been decided for him. He would not be sleeping next to his girlfriend, his only reason to be there (to be with her). Instead, he'd be alone in a room in the creepiest house he'd ever set foot in.
When he stood up, Uma smiled and squeezed around his hand. "I can—"
"You'll stay here," her father interrupted, Harry's duffel in his grip.
Uma's shoulders slumped with a frown, folding her arms tight around herself. "Sorry, Harry."
"It's fine," he responded quietly. But really, it wasn't. Harry almost couldn't believe he was being separated from her. He was regretting the entire trip now.
He stepped into the hall behind Uma's dad and followed. The hallway beyond her room was even darker. Several sconces were mounted along the walls, but most were off (or dead). The carpet over wood flooring muted the tread of their shoes.
The tall man walked with long, quiet strides, his presence more oppressive than protective. He spoke only once, gesturing with a broad palm toward a door on their right. “Bathroom,” he said. “For your use.”
Harry nodded quickly, stuffing his hand deeper into the pockets of his jeans to ward off the sudden chill.
They turned a corner down another hallway, just as dark. One light flickered and then brightened as they passed it. The portraits hung there were not of people, but landscapes rendered in dark oil paint. Woods in winter, a lake during a storm, a field. They were just paintings, but even they creeped Harry right out.
At last, they reached a white painted wooden door, smudges and scratches near the brass knob. Uma's father pushed it open, stepped inside, and set Harry’s bag down just inside the door before he stepped in further.
The guest room was modest. Bare plaster walls, a low bed covered in a quilt, and a single lamp with a slanted shade that made the light fall unevenly. A wardrobe stood in the corner, its mirror tarnished and cloudy.
Harry lingered in the doorway, not yet stepping inside. “Thank you,” he managed, his voice sounding as unsteady as he felt, but forcing himself to step inside the room finally.
The man nodded. “Keep the curtains closed at night,” he said evenly.
Harry blinked. “…Why?”
“The woods are alive after dark. You wouldn't want to invite anything unwelcome.”
Harry gulped, and the sound was loud, which would have been comical if he weren't absolutely terrified. But before he could ask what that meant, Uma’s father clapped Harry on the back as he stepped out of the room.
“Sleep well,” he said, though there was nothing comforting in it.
Harry hovered a moment longer after Uma’s father left, listening to the fading tread of footsteps swallowed up by the carpet before he peered into the hall. Nothing but shadows, stretching long in both directions, broken only by the single flickering bulb they’d passed. Definitely horror-movie material.
The skin at the back of his neck prickled as though something unseen was watching. Harry shut the door quickly, the latch snicking louder than he wished. He leaned against it, breathing out a shaky laugh. “Jesus…”
He hadn't had the heebie jeebies like this since he was a kid. He pressed his palm over his heart and felt the quick-paced thud of it underneath. It felt childish, but he couldn’t shake the sense that something was standing just behind him, waiting to be let in.
The bed sagged slightly when he sat down. He pulled out his phone, when he felt it buzz in his back pocket and saw a message from Uma.
sorry about them. hate this rule. promise i’ll sneak in tomorrow <3
Harry smiled, thumbing the heart reaction to her message, and for a moment, the house seemed less oppressive. But then the screen went dark, and the silence surged back again. But not the welcome kind of silence, it was the kind that let you hear the creaks under the house and the wind that hit windows and tapped.
He didn't understand why she hadn't warned him about all this. Why she let him walk into it blindly. Surely the daylight would make things better, but even then… She had to know her family was… weird. Uma could have at least given him a heads-up about the rule that would have him sleeping on the opposite side of the house from everyone, alone.
He stripped down and put on a pair of sweatpants, folding his jeans over the chair in the corner. The air felt colder against his bare skin, a chilly draft slipping out from under the wardrobe. He eyed the curtains but decided not to risk peeking out.
He considered turning off the lamp but thought better of it. Leaving it on felt smarter. He slid beneath the quilt and pulled it tight to his chin as he stared up at the ceiling. In one corner, a long shadow stood steady, like it was hiding something not meant to be seen.
The mattress suddenly jolted, followed by something dark landing beside him, and Harry shot up, jumping from the bed to the floor, a sharp curse ripping out of him as his heart slammed against his ribs.
The cat. Sleek and black, tail curling neatly, eyes gleaming in the lamplight. She had sprung onto the bed with fluid grace, and now she looked at him as though mildly amused at his terror.
“Fuck,” Harry said under his breath, clutching his chest. “You—goddamn, you scared me.”
The cat ignored him as she arched her back in a big stretch. He looked toward the closed door, then back at the cat curiously. Perhaps she'd slipped in while it was open.
He let out a long exhale, the last of his panic draining away before he climbed back into the bed next to her. He readjusted the blankets as she circled once before tucking herself neatly against his side. Her body was warm, heavy in a comforting way, the slow rhythm of her breathing already calming his nerves.
He reached out and stroked her back, fingers sinking into soft fur. “Okay, Kitty,” he said softly. “Guess you’re my roommate tonight.”
In truth, having the cat there felt like a safety blanket. The house was so eerie that even the presence of a small cat made everything feel lighter. Like if the cat were there with him, somehow, no harm would come.
He felt the gentle press of paws and a shift until she was closer, like she needed the warmth of him. Her purr rumbled low and steady, a motor vibrating through his side. Harry let his eyes sink shut, listening to it, the sound lulling him in a way no silence could.
His hand drifted, smoothing over her back and then to the top of her head. Back and forth, long strokes, the way he might calm himself as much as her. The quilt was warm, the lamplight steady, and his breath began to lengthen as his body grew heavy and he felt that familiar call of sleep.
The fur under his fingers softened then changed, strand by strand, like the texture of a dream shifting without warning. Gloss became silk. Fur became flesh, smooth and warm against his palm.
Harry’s head lolled to the side, half-asleep, half-something else. The purr softened until it sounded like air filling lungs. Like the cadence of breath rising and falling against his chest.
He continued drawing his fingers along the warmth and thought of Uma and then work and the long drive in from the city. His thoughts swirled and collided until one didn't match the other and he was lying somewhere else in another time, another life.
A hand rested on him, splayed over his sternum, light at first, then pressing just enough to feel the beat beneath. Then a nail traced over his chest, a soft sigh in his ear. The palm on his skin stilled for a moment, then slid lower, fingers dragging gently, deliberately, as if it was written, inevitable.
He let out a low sigh, his head swimming in a dream or in some bed somewhere, his hand brushing over warm curves where no cat ever existed. A woman, a stranger, maybe a lover he'd always known…
Her lips brushed against the inside of his wrist, then moved to the bulk of his bicep. He felt her fingers graze along the hair on his chest before he finally saw her, eyes mesmerizing and dangerous. Her lips tipped up into a smile before she climbed higher and perched her thigh over his hip.
“You’re trembling,” she whispered into his ear
Harry swallowed hard. “It's the house."
Her hand swept down over his chest, nails grazing just enough to sting, then smoothing her palm over him in apology. “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered. “You’re safe as long as I'm here.”
He watched her for long moments as she caressed him, her eyes locked on his, and he felt the familiar swell of heat at his groin when she lifted just enough that he caught sight of pretty nipples and soft breasts.
"You have a kind face. Trustworthy," she mewled when she lifted his hand up to her mouth and kissed the heel of his palm. "Big hands. Comforting voice."
She leaned close to him, breath cascading over his lips, and he caught her mouth with his like he'd die without feeling it. Her kiss deepened with each heartbeat, her lips insistent, her tongue teasing at his until he groaned softly. It was sweet and wet, and Harry had never felt like that before.
When she broke away, she trailed kisses along his throat, pausing to nip at his jaw. “I wish you were mine,” she said, her breath hot on his skin.
Harry’s hand slid to her side, fingertips trailing over the slope of her ribs, then higher, cupping the weight of her breast. She sighed when he kneaded gently.
"I am yours."
She pushed out a breathy laugh. "You're not, Harry. You don't belong to anyone."
He exhaled, a thumb trailing her nipple. "I am yours. I swear. I know I am."
"If you're mine, then tell me my name."
He blinked, and his heart dropped. What was her name again? He should know it; they were soulmates after all. It was at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't quite reach the word. He ran a hand over her jaw and shook his head.
Her lips brushed his ear. “Kitty.”
The word spilled out of him in a hoarse murmur. “Yes. That's it. Kitty.”
She rewarded him with another kiss, wetter this time, lingering, before shifting lower. Her lips dragged across his chest as she trailed down, planting kisses in a slow path, tasting him with her tongue. Harry moaned, his muscles twitching under every scrape of her teeth, every kiss, every lick.
Then he felt her graze a finger against the outline of him under his sweatpants and he groaned as he watched her. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
“You’re already hard for me,” she teased, fingers tugging at his waistband. “So easy.”
“Fuck,” he whispered, his hips jerking up involuntarily.
She pulled his sweats down just enough, curling her hand around him, stroking leisurely, deliberate. Her thumb teased the head, spreading the slick there, while her eyes never left his face.
“You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?”
Harry nodded, dizzy with need. “Yeah… Kitty. Anything.”
She smirked, lowering her mouth to kiss along his length, pausing to lick him slowly from base to tip, savoring the taste of him. His hand fisted in the quilt, breath hissing through his teeth.
Then her lips parted, and she swirled her tongue around his crown, watching him as she guided her lips over his tip and suckled softly. She stayed there for minutes, sucking and licking just his swollen cockhead, lapping at his precum and kissing his slit.
"Oh… I love that."
She pulled her mouth from him, her hand still wrapped around his shaft. "I know."
Then, finally, she wrapped her lips around him firmly and lowered to take him inch by inch, her tongue pressing and cradling, her pace maddeningly unhurried. Harry groaned, head tipping back, eyes rolling shut.
“Oh my God, Kitty—”
Her nails raked lightly down his thighs as she worked him deeper, dragging sharp red lines into his skin. He gasped at the feel of her.
She mewled around him, the vibration making him curse aloud. Pulling back just enough, she glanced up, lips glistening. “Is it good?”
He opened his eyes and looked at her, sitting next to him, agile and smooth, grinning seductively… He reached for her, a palm finding her breast. "You're everything. Better than anyone."
"Better than Uma?"
"Wha—?" He sank back into the pillow at the name of his girlfriend. He hadn't even thought of Uma once. It was as if she didn't exist, and even right then, he was having a hard time remembering what she looked like or when he last saw her. The moment he laid eyes on Kitty, he belonged only to her.
"But I'm yours."
Kitty moaned and lowered her mouth again to his tip, lips spreading over his shaft and slicking down until her nose was stuffed against his pelvis. She pushed and sucked all the way up to his tip and dug her nails in.
Harry groaned, louder, the sound tight and helpless as Uma was once again nothing more than an old memory from another life. “Shit… you’re gonna kill me.”
Kitty’s lips slid down his shaft again, tongue flattening as she swallowed him deeper. Her throat flexed around him, and Harry’s whole body jerked, the quilt bunching in his fists and the bed springs squeaking with every motion. She pulled back with a wet gasp, a string of spit clinging from her lips to his cock, then smiled wickedly before licking it up in one languid sweep.
“Fuck,” Harry groaned, his voice breaking. His thighs trembled, muscles burning with the effort to hold still.
She circled her tongue around his tip, teasing, suckling, then dove back down with sudden force, taking him to the hilt until her nose pressed into his skin, his tip curving down her throat. She coughed out a gagging sound, then purred around him like she was savoring it.
Harry cried out, raw, desperate. “Jesus, Kitty, oh my god—”
She moaned around him, the vibration shooting through his cock, making him writhe. Her nails dug into his hips, scratching deep enough to bite, holding him down while she bobbed her head, her throat working to swallow him again and again. Spit slicked his length, pooling at the base, dripping onto his thighs, but she didn’t care. She only sucked harder, wetter, messier. The sound that filled the room was obscene. Wet gushy slurps and glucking noises, the creaking of the bed, Harry's moans…
He was shaking, every muscle quivering, his breath ragged. He tilted his head to watch, and it was lewd. The way her lips wrapped tight around him, how she could take every inch of his shaft down to the root of him and still keep her eyes on his, the spit dribbling down her chin and neck.
“You’re so fucking good,” he gasped, his voice cracking. “Nobody—nobody’s ever—”
Her hand joined her mouth, stroking the base in quick, tight motions while she worked her lips over the head, tongue flicking mercilessly at his slit. She pulled back with a filthy pop, spit stringing down her chin, and licked him from base to crown with one long, slow drag.
“You’re close,” she cooed, stroking him harder. “I can taste it.”
“Kitty, please—” His voice was wrecked, pleading, his body arching off the bed.
She grinned, lips glistening, before sinking back down on him with sudden hunger, sucking so hard it made his vision blur. She bobbed her head in quick, ruthless strokes, her hands holding the very tops of his thighs steady to keep him in place.
Harry’s entire body locked tight, his breath breaking into short, helpless moans. “Fuck—fuck, Kitty, I’m com—”
She hummed around him, urging him, sucking faster, swallowing harder until his hips bucked wildly despite her claws holding him down.
And then he was done for. Harry came with a strangled cry, spilling into her mouth in hot, pulsing waves. His whole body seized, back bowing off the bed, his hands clutching her head. Kitty sucked around him like she was pulling a beverage through a straw, drinking him down greedily, her throat working as she swallowed every drop.
She didn’t stop, not until his spasms began to fade, until he was gasping and twitching, too sensitive, begging with incoherent sounds. Even then, she milked him with slow, languid suckles, licking him clean until there was nothing left but the ragged rise and fall of his chest.
Finally, she pulled off, a strand of spit shining across her chin. She watched him melt slowly, his body pliant and satisfied.
His limbs were trembling, and his throat was raw from groaning her name. The room spun around him, the lamp’s glow softening to blur with Kitty’s silhouette burned into his vision as she leaned over him, smiling like she owned him.
And then the edges of everything went black, his consciousness sinking into dark, dreamless sleep.
.
Uma’s voice startled him awake. “Harry?”
His eyes snapped open. She stood in the doorway as morning light filled his room. She was in one of her soft sweatshirts, sleeves pulled down over her hands, smiling faintly as if she’d just woken up herself.
Harry’s heart lurched, panic buzzing through his chest as he looked at the spot next to him, thinking he'd just been caught with Kitty in his bed, but the quilt was neatly laid across the mattress and over his chest.
He turned his head sharply, scanning the room, half-expecting to see his dream girl somewhere, but instead, there was just the cat, curled at the foot of the bed. Sleek and small, her paws tucked under, tail flicking lazily.
Harry sat bolt upright, sweat prickling across his back. For one wild second, he was sure Uma would see… would know. His throat closed on words he couldn’t find.
The cat stretched, unhurried, arched her back, then hopped gracefully off the bed. She padded across the floor, tail rising, and slipped past Uma’s ankles into the hall.
Harry stared after her until she disappeared.
“Hey.” Uma tilted her head, concern edging her smile as she moved into the room and sat next to him. “You okay? Was it a bad dream?”
Quite the opposite, actually.
He dragged a hand down his face, trying to steady his breath. The house looked different in the daylight, and he could even smell coffee brewing. But he couldn’t shake the weight in his chest, the certainty that last night hadn’t only been a dream.
“Yeah,” he said finally. He forced a smile. “Just… didn’t sleep great, I guess.”
She touched his arm and cocked her head curiously. "What's this?"
He looked at where Uma's finger slid over an angry red mark. He blinked down at it slowly and then felt the ghost of claws still tingling along his thighs. "Uh… Don't know. Maybe I scratched it in my sleep."
"I don't think I slept well either," she said as she put her hand on his cheek, warm and familiar. Harry leaned into her instinctively, his eyes drifting once more toward the door where the cat had vanished.
"What's the cat's name?"
Y/n dropped her hand. "We didn't really ever name her. Just Kitty. Was she here all night with you?"
He nodded, eyes still roving the room in case a naked, beautiful woman were to suddenly appear out of thin air. "Yeah. She was."
He felt Uma’s eyes on him as he forced another smile, his chest still prickling with relief, or maybe it was panic. She smoothed her sleeve down and glanced toward the hall. “Breakfast is waiting,” she said lightly, like nothing in the world was amiss.
He nodded as she rose and offered her hand. Sliding his palm against hers, he let himself be led toward the day ahead, even as some hidden part of him was already aching for the dark to fall again.
.
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tw : somnophilia, blood, non-con, sleeping sex, sexual acts while unconscious, blood (lots of it), mind controlling, dream altering, sex that isn’t…consensual but mc is fine with it! ☺️
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reminder that your media consumption is your responsibility! please do not read if any of these matters upset you or make you uncomfortable! and please, proceed with caution!
—
While shooing away the black crow from your window, you shut it with a sigh. Today had drained you, and the only thing you could think about was getting into your bed and closing your eyes. You’d been up since before dawn, courtesy of the black crow that wouldn’t stop tapping on your window.
It was there when you woke up, there when you left for work, at your workplace, and even when you returned home. You thought about calling animal control, but technically, this bird wasn’t a threat to the public. Just annoying. No matter how many times you shooed it away, it always came back. And it’s been that way for the past three months. You assumed it was because of the person who lived in this house before you; maybe they had some sort of connection —a weird connection, but one nonetheless. You figured that the bird hadn’t realized that you had moved in.
Despite that, you thought today was a good day. Easy workday, you even had someone pay for your coffee today before work. A very handsome someone, that is. You hadn’t seen him around town before, but that didn’t mean much. You’d only been here for three months, and you don’t do much outside of work. It’s no surprise that you’ve never seen him before. However, the thing that bothered you the most was the fact that you didn’t get the chance to say thank you before he left, and even when you asked the barista who paid for your drink, she seemed confused, as if she didn’t know who or what you were talking about. She even had you questioning if you had imagined the stranger in the coffee shop. Impossible, you thought… those eyes were something special. Too special to be imaginary.
Your shoulders sagged as you pulled the duvet back. The melatonin you had taken was starting to weigh on you, and it didn’t help that you only got about four hours of sleep last night. The sheets slid against your skin as you settled into bed, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. Your eyes were already closed as you pulled the blanket over your shoulders, and you knew it wouldn’t take long to fall asleep.
The black crow waited impatiently outside your window. He had a plan, and phase one was complete. You’d seen him, and that’s all he needed to continue. An hour had passed before he figured now was the perfect time. He listened carefully to your snores as he focused on infiltrating your dreams. He hated this form. It was convenient when it came to watching you, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to stay in this form; he needed to feel you. Paying for your coffee this morning was risky. No one was supposed to see him, but he just had to see you. Which is why he had to compel the barista - he didn’t need her talking about the Salvatore that finally left the house in the woods.
And you… Not even paying attention to your surroundings, you hadn’t even noticed that your coffee tasted a little different this morning. It took less than a second for him to slip a bit of vervain into your coffee. No one noticed, and sure, he didn’t need to use the vervain to be able to get you vulnerable; it just made it easier. And Damon loved when you made it easy for him.
A small gasp escaped your lips, and he wanted to chuckle. He’d made it in. He shifted your dreams, and suddenly you were back in the coffee shop. But it was only the two of you… He stood in front of you, a smirk on his face as you smiled, confused.
“Let me in,” He whispered, but his lips didn’t move, “Invite me in.”
His words sounded as if he were circling you, surrounding you as he just smiled down at you.
“Invite me…in,” His voice remained steady, sultry, even as he stepped closer. Even in your sleep, you were able to feel him, able to smell him, and you moaned.
In your dream, you opened your mouth, unaware that you were mirroring your actions in real life. So, when the words left your lips, Damon nearly leaped with excitement.
“You can come in,” you whispered, still deep in your sleep.
Downstairs, the lock turned and the door opened. Damon stood just outside the threshold, his hands shaking with excitement as he fought the urge to ravish you immediately. Not like you could do anything about it if he did decide to. His fangs would be in your throat before you even realized what was happening, and by the time you were ripped from that precious little dream world he’d conjured up for you, you’d be dead.
But, no. He wanted to enjoy this. He wanted to relish in the fact that he would finally be able to feel you, finally be able to taste you.
He stepped over the threshold with ease, your scent filling his senses, even from way down here. He shut the door behind him, not needing any interruptions. It wouldn’t be a hassle to kill anyone who dared to disturb him, but it would take his attention off of you, and that’s the last thing he wanted. Damon waited three long months to finally be able to get his hands on you, despite his brother’s pleas to leave you alone. In fact, that just made him want you more.
His boots echoed around your quiet house as he climbed the stairs, dragging this out longer than needed in hopes of being able to contain himself once he was finally in your presence. He pushed your bedroom door open, his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans at the sight of you.
There you were - on your stomach, leg bent slightly, ass poked in the air. The blanket had fallen from your body when you shifted in your sleep, but still, due to the melatonin and the overall exhaustion from not getting any sleep last night, you couldn’t even tell. Damon rounded your bed, his fingers reaching out and touching the bedsheets. He trailed upwards, dragging his fingers directly next to your leg as he palmed himself with his other hand.
Completely oblivious, you were. Here he was, inches away from you, yet you couldn’t wake from your dreams. In your dreams, you were beneath him, panting his name as he plowed into you, unaware that your words could be heard outside of your dream. Damon’s name leaving your lips was enough to drive him mad. He listened to your heartbeat increase, the sound of your blood rushing through your veins turning him on as the seconds passed. You looked so peaceful while you were asleep. Maybe you were at peace because you didn’t even feel him when he rested his fingers on the back of your bare leg.
He trailed them up, goosebumps following where his fingers had grazed. Over your ass, the small of your back that had been exposed during your sleepy movements, up your spine until he reached your hair. He brushed a piece off your face; he needed to see everything he could.
No more hiding from me, he thought as he leaned down to get a whiff of you. He pressed his nose to your head, his eyes rolling shut as he inhaled deeply. He pressed his fingers to your pulse on your neck, and his cock twitched. He couldn’t help himself as his fangs extended, the veins underneath his eyes prominent as he trailed his nose down the side of your face.
Your dreams had taken a different route. Damon groaned as he made you see what was happening right now; whatever he would do to you outside of your dreams would be done inside of your dreams. You whimpered, soaking through your underwear. He could smell your arousal, moving his free hand to rest over your ass. He pressed his knee into the mattress so he could be closer to you. As he hovered over your still body, he used his free hand to tilt your head so that your neck was fully exposed to him.
He showed restraint, wanting nothing more than to bite right over your pulse point and drain you until you were hollow. He gripped your ass, causing your shorts to be pulled with his movements. The cool breeze that came with his presence ghosted over your now exposed cunt, and absentmindedly, you pushed up into his hand. Soft snores escaped your mouth as his fingers found their way between your legs. You were easily accessible to him right now, completely at his will, and he couldn’t have been happier.
Damon’s fingers were chilly as he dove between your lips. He hovered over your body, shielding you from the outside world as he rubbed your clit. You gasped, and he bit his lip, drawing blood as your wetness pooled from your hole. His own blood dripped onto your cheek, and in your dream, that feeling was enough to make you moan.
He circled your clit, applying pressure as he stared down at you, watching your face twist in pleasure. So unaware of how good he was making you feel, he was almost angry that he couldn’t see the way your eyes would light up when you realized it was the stranger from the coffee shop with his hand between your legs. He almost woke you just to witness that, but that would take away the fun…
When you woke in the morning, you would feel the remnants of him, and that was enough for now. His only mission tonight was to make you feel it, even if you didn’t know you were feeling it.
He couldn’t contain himself anymore, his vision was going hazy as he stared at the vein on your neck. He salivated, his finger leaving your clit to poke at your hole. He leaned closer to you and buried his head in your neck. You whimpered as he lined two fingers up at your entrance. Your pulse quickened. In your dream, you knew what was going to happen. Tears welled in your eyes and slid down your cheek, yet your hole clenched and your nipples tightened against the bedsheets.
All at once, he plunged his fingers into you and bit down on your neck. You screeched in your dreams, but the only noise you could muster in real life was a strangled whimper. You tightened around Damon’s fingers, and he moaned. The taste of your blood on his tongue and the feeling of your cunt squeezing him were enough to make him see stars.
He pumped his fingers in and out of you, lapping sloppily at your neck as your blood spilled onto the pillow and your cunt leaked onto the sheets.
“Fuck,” He groaned against your neck, your blood dripping down his chin as he pushed his fingers as deep as he could. Still hovering over you, and unbeknownst to you, he controlled your dreams and your reality. He could feel your body grow weaker as you slumped further into the mattress. Your orgasm coiled in your stomach as you fisted the sheets— well, tried to. You reached out for the sheets in your dream, but you just couldn’t get hold of them.
His fangs sank into your vein, and a white light peaked in the corner of your eyes. Your body shook with fear and arousal as Damon sucked you to the brink of death. And even as weak as you were, your orgasm ripped through you powerfully.
Still, Damon didn’t stop. With two of his fingers still buried deep in you, he added another as he greedily took whatever blood your body had left to offer. Your heart slowed as you stretched around his fingers, and it wasn’t until another orgasm took you that he pulled off of your neck.
His blood-stained lips shifted into a grin as he watched you shake. Barely breathing, you came around his fingers as your blood pooled beneath your head. When you were done, he pulled his fingers out of you. He lifted his hand, rubbing your arousal along your lips before he raised his hand to his mouth. He bit into his wrist and brought it down to your mouth. When he retracted his fangs, he sighed heavily, the feeling of your puckered lips against his skin as you unknowingly drank the one thing that would keep you from dying.
And when you had had just enough to keep you from dying, but not enough to make you coherent again, he leaned down to whisper in your ear.
“When you wake, you won’t panic… you’ll see the blood, you’ll feel the ghost of my fingers inside of you, you’ll feel the wetness of your cunt, but you won’t remember me.”
You wake the next morning with a startled gasp, the sun peaking from behind the curtain that you closed the night before. Sure enough, the words without a face echoed in your brain as you took in the scene around you. With your clothes disarrayed, you stood from the bed, dizziness taking over as your eyes focused on the dried blood on your pillow.
There was a sharp pain in your neck, one that brought tears to your eyes as you crossed the room to the window. You squinted your eyes as the sun blinded you once the curtains were opened.
It took a few seconds to regain your eyesight, but once you did, the hairs on the back of your neck stood, goosebumps arose on your skin from head to toe, and your cunt throbbed. You couldn’t understand why. The feelings you were experiencing were enough to make you stumble backwards. You couldn’t put your finger on it, your memories simply black holes as you reached up and touched your neck, unable to take your eyes off the window.
On the other side of the glass, the crow was back, unmoving and solemn as he stared at you. There was a connection, you could feel it, you just didn’t know why. And in Damon’s head, he had succeeded. You’d be searching for answers that would lead you to him, and once you were within his reach, he wasn’t going to let you go.
—
This was… different! I wrote this to see if I still had skill and I don’t think it was too bad! 🥳
Thank you all so much for the support on the vinyls!!! As I’m sure you’ve all noticed, this was certainly a limited pressing, so in order to make sure as many of you get a copy as possible, the most efficient way to get it is to ask for it!!!
Email/ask Amigo Records/Prescription Songs, AWAL, and whatever vinyl distributor/record store you frequent!! Tell them how much you want more pressings of the vinyl, and tell them how much you’d like CDs and cassettes as well!
Thanks so much again, we’re gonna do everything we can to make sure all of you can hold Preacher’s Daughter in your hand somehow. Loves ya ♡
CEO Harry and y/n In the office and someone of importance walk-ins but that doesn’t stop the fun!!
This could go two ways.
god, the excitement I felt when I saw this because the idea popped up in my head so quickly 😃 entyyyywayyysss
—
Harry was relentless. His pounding hadn’t seemed to be letting up. Even when he picked you up and carried you over to the couch he had in the middle of his office.
Your lunch break ended a while ago, you were sure. But that was one of the perks of fucking the boss - you pretty much got to do whatever you wanted.
You had spent the night texting Harry and teasing him with dirty photos, even though you knew he had lots of work to do. When he finally did give in and play into your shenanigans, you ignored his texts, making it seem as if you had fallen asleep.
Harry was pissed. And horny. And he made sure you knew just how much trouble you were in with just a simple text before he himself fell asleep.
“If that’s how you want to play, that’s how we’ll play, slut.”
Harry knew exactly how to get back at you. Overstimulation was his favorite thing to do because it drove you mad, and right now, he was having the time of his life.
Your pussy was sore. Clit throbbing and aching as yet another orgasm shook you. You could hardly react to it and you lost count of how many times Harry had made you cum. He was drenched with your juices - face, chest, legs - everywhere had a trace of you there and he was loving it.
You whimpered as your back hit the cushions and Harry chuckled, smirking down at you as he circled the tip of his cock on your clit, “You aren’t giving up on me now, are you? Come on,” he teased, leaning down and biting your ear, “That filthy fucking mouth had so much to say last night, what happened to her?”
He slid back inside you, moaning loudly as your walls sucked him in. Just as you opened your mouth to respond, the office door opened.
“Harry, I keep forgetting to give you the file- Oh shit,” Niall’s voice rang throughout the office and you used the last of your strength to sit up on your elbows.
You smiled, “Hi, Niall.”
Harry kissed your neck as you kept your eyes on Niall. He watched the scene in front of him with wide eyes and cleared his throat, “Am I interrupting something?”
“No, ah-“ you moaned out when Harry bit your neck, unable to stop your head from lolling to the side. Still, you kept your eyes locked with Niall’s, “Close the door.”
He did, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
“Are you shy? How come you’re all the way over there?” You asked Niall, biting your lip as Harry began to move his hips again. “Come here.”
Just last week, you caught Niall staring at your ass. Of course, you did it on purpose because you overheard their conversation about how much they liked the skirts you had been wearing. But, it isn’t the first time you have caught Niall eyeing you. Even when you would wear your dress pants, you caught his attention. It was flattering, really.
Harry slid out of you slowly and stood up. You didn’t pay attention to where he walked off to because your eyes were focused on Niall. His eyes were wide behind his glasses, staring down at your used and flustered body.
“You just gonna stand there?” Harry asked as he moved around the office.
Niall glanced up at him and his lips twitched into a smile, “She looks like she’s been through enough, what did you do to her, Styles?”
Harry snickered, “Nothing the little slut couldn’t handle. Go ahead, get her ready again.”
Niall looked back down at you and you felt a flame ignite in your belly. He moved to kneel between your legs and you spread your knees as much as you could to fit his body. He licked up the middle of your tits, humming at the taste of your sweat on his tongue as he continued up your neck. You could feel him growing harder against your pussy and he groaned when you moved your hips up against him.
“Such a naughty girl,” Niall mumbled, his hand gripping onto your waist tightly. His arm snaked underneath you and in one quick motion, he sat up, pulling you with him until you were straddling his lap.
You winced in surprise, Harry chuckled as he made his way back over to you. He stood behind the couch, one hand resting on Niall’s shoulder as he stared down at you and the other stroked his cock slowly.
Niall’s hands gripped your waist and he sighed when he began to move you against him. Due to you still being wet from Harry’s actions, on top of Harry’s cum still leaking from you, you were slippery. Niall’s cock slid between your lips and over your swollen clit. You whimpered, feeling every bump, every vein as you fluttered your lashes and looked up at Harry.
He smiled down at you, his hand reaching out to roughly grab your jaw, “You’ve been a little cock tease, you know that?”
You tried to nod but his grip tightened, making your lips pucker. Niall chuckled and sat up, your chest firmly pressed into his as he placed a kiss directly under your chin. Niall’s hands roamed up and down your back and you shivered, attempting to pull away from Harry. He frowned, his hand leaving your jaw and snapping to your throat, “Answer my fucking question.”
Niall ducked his head and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, his teeth pulling at the bud as Harry choked your answer from your throat.
“Yes,” you muttered out, feeling your pussy clench tightly. Your clit throb and you knew Niall felt you because he groaned, biting down on your nipple harder and making you cry out.
Niall tisked, “Filthy fucking girl, those little skirts may have gotten you in some trouble.” He leaned back, tilting his head so that he could see your face over Harry's arm that was still extended to your throat, “That’s what you were looking for, right?”
Yes. You’ve dreamed about the day you finally got to be used by Niall and Harry, and if wearing skirts short enough to be nothing more than a bikini cover-up was going to get them to snap, that was exactly what you were going to do. That’s exactly what you did. You rolled your lips into your mouth to keep from smiling but failed miserably and let out a small chuckle.
“Oh?” Harry raised an eyebrow.
“Let’s see if shit will still be funny when we’re finished with you,” Niall slapped your ass harshly and you winced, “Up.”
You struggled to gain your balance as you stood and Harry reluctantly let go of your throat. You sucked in a sharp breath as you smirked at him but he was briefly blocked when Niall stood up. He stepped aside and put his hand on your lower back. His fingers danced up your spine until he reached the back of your neck and he gripped tightly. You gasped as you were tossed forward, barely catching yourself as you planted your knees into the couch.
Harry chuckled as you righted yourself. You were eye level with his cock, which was very convenient. You heard the coffee table scrape against the floor behind you and felt Niall’s movement, his body brushing against your cunt and making you shiver. You tried to turn your head to look back at him but Harry was quick to grab your jaw again.
“Nope,” Harry drawled out, forcing your head forward again, “Look at me, baby. Good girl, keep your eyes on me, yeah? Don’t worry about what Niall’s doing, just keep that pretty mouth open,” you nodded and he brushed your hair from your face, tangling one hand in your hair and bracing the other one beneath your chin.
You felt Niall behind you, his hands running up the back of your thighs and over your ass until he reached your lower back. He pushed down and you whined as you arched, your ass high in the air and knees spread as far as they could go.
You felt Niall’s fingers on your cunt, spreading your lips apart and blowing gentle air onto your clit.
“Eyes open,” Harry warned the moment your eyes began to flutter shut when Niall bit one of your asscheeks.
You whined, your back starting to hurt from how you were bent over the couch but your pain was short lived as Niall licked a stripe from your clit to your asshole. You gasped and Harry took the opportunity to slide his cock into your mouth. You could still taste your cum on him from moments ago and you moaned.
Niall grabbed your cheeks and pulled them apart, his tongue immediately working over your asshole. Subconsciously, you pushed back against his mouth as Harry slid his hips forward. His pelvis brushed the tip of your nose and you gagged as his cock curved down your throat. He held you there and tears welled in your eyes as you swallowed around him.
Niall puckered his lips around your asshole and sucked, a whine escaped your throat and sent a chill up Harry’s spine. He pulled out of your mouth quickly and you choked, spit falling from your lips and onto the cushions as you heaved. Harry wasted no time in driving his hips forward again, his cock going straight to the back of your throat and making you gag violently.
You felt Niall smile against you, his hand coming down on one of your asscheeks, the impact making you jerk forward and making Harry’s cock slide further down your throat.
They cackled and you whimpered. Niall slid his tongue down and circled your hole. Harry moved his hips, slowly at first, giving you the chance to breathe through your nose. He kept your head held firmly in his hands as your own hand reached out to grab his thigh.
Still, you kept your eyes open and locked with Harry’s. Niall lapped at your cunt eagerly, moving down just a bit further until his tongue glided over your clit. Your eyes rolled back as the pleasing sensation stretched up your spine. Harry released your chin briefly to slap your face. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but just enough to sting and make you focus back on him.
“Close your eyes again and he’s gonna stop,” Harry grunted, fucking into your mouth rhythmically, his fingers coming up to pinch your nose, “Then we’ll take turns fucking this throat instead, yeah? Use this fucking mouth until we can’t cum anymore.”
The thought made you shudder and clench. It was tempting, but the way Niall was working your clit had you re-considering that thought. You were close, you could feel the familiar burning in your stomach as he sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the throbbing bud as Harry picked up his pace.
Your nails dug into his thigh and he winced, finally letting go of your nose and tangling both hands in your hair. You whined, unable to fully moan with your mouth being stuffed. All it took was for Niall to press the tip of his nose against your hole and you came suddenly. You ripped your mouth off of Harry and he let you, his fingers loosening in your hair only to wrap around your throat.
He kneeled in front of you, his mouth attacking yours and swallowing all of your moans as Niall continued to lick you through your orgasm. You could feel how slippery you were as Niall dug his face further into your cunt. You whimpered, biting Harry’s lip harshly as your body trembled.
It was too much. You reached back, pushing at Niall’s head. He growled, smacking your hand away and sucking on your clit harder. You felt it, another orgasm building in your stomach as Harry chuckled against your lips. Harry choked you harder, stopping your breathing as you came. You squeaked, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Niall nodded, pulling away from your cunt, “That’s it, push it out for me. You can do it.”
Niall’s fingers came up to rub your clit, prolonging your release while Harry nipped at your bottom lip.
“So fucking good,” Harry cooed, “You’re such a good little slut for your daddies, yeah?”
All you could do was nod as you collapsed against the couch. They both pulled away from you and you sucked in a sharp breath. You were shaking, your throat sore from Harry’s assault, cunt throbbing erratically. You could hardly register what was happening when an arm wrapped around your waist and lifted you from the couch as if you weighed nothing.
Niall shushed you when you whined, his fingertips burning the skin where they rested, and he took a step back, “I got you, darling. You’re not finished yet, though, Look,”
His other hand came up to grab your jaw. You opened your eyes, immediately zoning in on Harry as he laid on the couch. He stroked his cock slowly, his eyes roaming over your spent body as Niall walked you closer.
Harry smiled up at you lazily and Niall laid you gently on top of him. You spread your knees and slumped against Harry’s chest. You felt Niall behind you and looked back. He grinned at you as Harry leaned up and nibbled on your ear.
“Relax,” he whispered and reached between your bodies. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds and you moaned, bracing your hands on his chest as his tip poked your entrance. He hissed as he slid in, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you against his chest as he laid back against the couch.
Niall shifted closer, his hand pressing on your lower back as he leaned his weight onto you, making your arch your back. His tip poked at your already full entrance and you perked up, the sudden realization of what was happening giving you a burst of energy.
Harry shook his head and tightened his hold around you, keeping you firm against his chest as you whimpered.
“Come on, baby,” Niall cooed, his fingers massaging your back as he slowly pushed into your entrance, “You’re doing so good, can you take both of us? Hm?”
You reached back, pushing at Niall’s stomach as the pressure overwhelmed your core. He grunted, his fingers wrapping around your wrist and twisting your arm until it rested on your lower back. He held it in place and quickly snapped his hips forward.
You shrieked, the pain coursing through your body and heat licking at your skin. Your clit throbbed against Harry’s pelvis as Niall’s arm circled your waist once more and pulled you against his chest, keeping your arm pinned behind your back, his hand that was wrapped around your waist coming up to wrap around your throat.
You wailed, this new angle pushing them both deeper. Surely everyone on the floor could hear what was happening in Mr.Styles’ office with his new assistant and his bestfriend but the thought of them listening to your whimpers and whines made your belly clench. You were right to take this job. You breathed out a chuckle.
“Yes,” you said into the air, feeling the pain drift away and be replaced by an overwhelming sense of pleasure, “Fuck.”
“Dirty fucking bitch,” Harry groaned as Niall titled his head to suck a bruise onto your neck, just over your pulse, right next to his fingers.
“Look at you, you little slut,” Niall huffed, “Taking two cocks at a time, God, you’re so fucking good.”
Harry’s hands slid up your stomach and cupped your tits as Niall began to move his hips. He grunted in your ear, Harry’s fingers twisting and pulling at your nipples from beneath you. You huffed out, your head falling back against Niall’s shoulder as you began to drip around their cocks.
Your walls hugged them tightly and they moaned. Soon, they began to speed up. With one harsh slap on each of your tits, Harry dropped his hands, one bracing on your hip and the other falling between your legs. He pinched your clit and you jolted, sinking down further onto their cocks as you moaned loudly.
His thumb worked your clit and he bared his teeth as he growled. He braced his feet on the couch and bent his knees as much as he could with Niall between them but the moment he found a steady hold, he broke. Harry fucked up into you roughly, knocking the air from your lungs and you were sure if Niall hadn’t tightened his grip on your body, you would’ve fell against Harry.
Harry licked his lips and Niall moaned loudly in your ear, feeling you clench tightly around them. Niall drove his hips forward just as quick, the sound of skin clapping echoing around the room as loud and incessant moans fell from all of your lips.
You were floating. Your body going rigid as an orgasm suddenly slashed through your core. Your eyes rolled back and your nails dug into your palm, pins and needles littered just underneath your skin from being pinned between you and Niall’s bodies. Your other hand slapped Harry’s chest as your head fell forward, which only made Niall tighten his grip around your throat.
They were relentless, never letting up, not even when you came again. You squirted, soaking them and the couch beneath as your cunt threatened to push them out. This made them go harder, the slickness of your release making it easier for them to slide in and out.
“That’s it, baby, push it out,” Niall whimpered, “Is it still funny?”
Harry grinned, reaching up to slap your tits once again, this time harder, “I don’t think she’s fucking laughing now, huh? Are you?”
Harry grabbed your sore jaw for the hundredth time today and slapped your cheek. You looked at him through lazy eyes as they continued to fuck your pussy. Your lips pouted in fatigue, eyes screwing shut as Harry slapped your face again.
“You’re gonna give us one more, alright?” Harry coaxed, his own movements becoming sloppy, “You’re gonna be just as good as you’ve been all day and let us milk one more orgasm from our pussy, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you repeated, already feeling the final orgasm sneak up as his words sunk beneath your skin.
Niall jolted his hips forward, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix and bringing tears to your eyes, “Yeah, what?”
“Yes, daddy, fuck,” you whined out.
“Good girl,” Harry praised.
“Yes, you fucking are,” Niall agreed.
It was right there. In arms reach, trapped between the now uneven movements of Harry and Niall as they chased their orgasm. You could see it, you could feel it, fuck you could even taste it. They fucked all thoughts from your head. In this moment, you were gone, watching the scene from outside of your body as they stretched you as much as they could.
“I’m-” Niall stuttered, burying his head into your neck and whimpering as his hips snapped against your ass.
“Fucking hell, yes, that’s it baby. Cum,” Harry demanded, “Cum with us.”
You did. Unable to produce any noise as your vision blurred white. You felt the warmth of blood underneath your palm from Harry’s chest as Niall bit down on your shoulder.
It felt endless. The pleasure you were experiencing, the feeling of their cum coating your walls and being squeezed out as you clenched around them. You were sensitive, tears streaming down your face as you finally sucked in a sharp breath. Your lungs burned and you coughed, Harry’s hands on your waist.
“Please,” you whimpered out when you began to lift off of their cocks.
“Hold on, baby,” Harry assured, “We’re almost done.”
They moved quickly, lifting you off of them completely, Niall using his hold on your body to shift you up over Harry’s torso, all three of your releases dripping onto his chest, until you were hovering directly over his mouth.
Harry parted your swollen pussy lips with his tongue and sucked at your hole, the rest of your cum falling into his mouth as he moaned against you. You buried your fingers in his hair, your thighs snapping shut around his head as he closed his eyes. You felt another tongue, licking over Harry’s chin and up between your asscheeks, lingering over your asshole before pulling away with a pop at the same time as Harry.
You sat up straight and fell back against Niall. He was quick to grab you, shushing you as he sat down on the opposite end of the couch, pulling you with him so that you rested on his chest.
You stared up at the ceiling, feeling Niall’s lips against your temple as Harry’s hands massaged your body.
Harry leaned over you, placing a soft kiss to your lips, “Rest, we’ll be here when you wake up.”
More bestfriends dads content please and thank you !!!!
I think this is gonna be a couple of parts.
PART 3 of whatever the hell this is. I'll probably come up with a name for this series soon. Maybe, IDK.
SUMMARY:
Harry is the father of your best friend. Everyone wants him but he only wants you. And the feeling is mutual. A little fooling around has never hurt anyone, right? Who cares if he's a little older than you? Who cares if he's the favorite parent to your best friend? It's just a little fun.
WORD COUNT: 2008
Maybe you should’ve said no when your bestfriend asked you to come to Vegas with her and her dad for his birthday.
It was a family thing. You had no right to impose on such an intimate gathering. But she insisted, reminding you that you haven’t seen each other since Christmas. In some friend groups, that’s normal considering it's only February. But you and your bestfriend never went longer than a week without seeing each other.
You were avoiding and she knew you were. However, she didn’t know the reason why you were avoiding and you wanted to keep it that way. You couldn’t exactly tell her that the reason you weren’t coming to her house anymore was that you had gotten yourself off on her father’s thigh while she and her family was in the next room over.
Your face heated up at the memory; for a brief second, you’d forgotten what you were doing until your Uber driver snapped his fingers to remind you that you’d arrived at your destination. You thanked him and got out of the car, making your way to the back to grab your suitcase out of the trunk.
You struggled a little bit. You overpacked just to be on the safe side considering your bestfriend never told you how long you’d be in Vegas. You frowned when your wheel got caught on the edge of the trunk. Stupid fucking Uber driver, he could’ve at least helped you with your bag. You scoffed and just as you were about to use the rest of early morning strength - because things were always heavier when you were tired -, a hand reached around you and effortlessly took the bag from the trunk.
The scent was familiar, you’d smelled it on yourself for days after Christmas. The warmth against your back was a comforting contrast to the brisk breeze that came with it being 5 in the morning. The sun was hardly peaking from over the horizon but it felt like it was shining directly on you.
Mr. Styles sat your suitcase on the ground and slammed the trunk shut, an annoyed look on his face as he glared at the Uber driver through the back window. The driver pulled away with eagerness and you watched until the car turned the corner.
“Thank you,” You mumbled to Mr. Styles, turning to look at him. He was already dressed, a thin white t-shirt covering his torso and a pair of blue jeans that were ripped at the knees. A clean shaven face that made him look twenty years younger than he was.
He nodded in return and you were suddenly nervous. You’d never been nervous around him, granted you’ve only met him in person twice before today, and one of those times was on Christmas. Considering how that day ended, you had the right to be nervous… just a little bit.
Mr. Styles took in your appearance and you felt small underneath his gaze. You were painfully aware of the outfit you’d chosen to wear to be comfortable - a pair of yoga shorts and a hoodie from college that was one wash away from being too small. His eyes traveled up your legs and your torso until he reached your face. He smirked, “Goodmorning. You’re early.”
“I like being precise, Mr. Styles. It’s my best and worst trait,” You said, reaching for your suitcase only for him to move it out of your reach.
“You have more worst traits?” He raised an eyebrow as he nodded his head towards the house, silently telling you to walk ahead of him.
“I have a few,” You spoke, any nervousness slowly vanishing now that you knew that what happened on Christmas hadn’t made anything awkward between the two of you. However, that didn’t stop the faint throbbing that ignited between your legs whenever you looked at him.
You opened the front door and stepped aside so that he could enter. He sat your suitcase next to one that you recognized as your bestfriend’s and another one that you assumed was his. You looked around the foyer as he shut the door. All of the lights were still off and it was quiet. Deafening, almost as you felt him approach you from behind.
“She said she’d be up by now,” You said referring to your bestfriend.
Mr. Styles hummed, his chest brushing against your back as he reached up and pulled your hair off of your shoulder, “You know how she is. She’s not a morning person. You can wake her up in a bit.”
You shivered and pursed your lips, “And what am I supposed to do until then?”
His arm circled your waist and pulled you back against him. He pressed his lips to the back of your head before he slid his hand down your stomach until he reached the hem of your hoodie, “I could keep you busy?”
You shook your head, a smile playing on your lips as he tugged the hem of your hoodie, “I don’t know, I get bored pretty fast.”
He moved his head so that his lips pressed against the shell of your ear, “I’m always up for a competition, baby,” he grunted, pressing his hips into your lower back, making a whimper fall from between your lips as he slowly trailed his hand to rest between your legs, “If you get bored, just let me know.”
You turned your head to look at him, his eyes already focused on you as he rubbed your cunt through your thin shorts. Your breathing shuddered and your hips bucked into his hand as he turned and backed against the nearest wall. You relaxed into his body, your head falling back against his shoulder as his other hand wrapped around your stomach.
Mr. Styles’ head fell to your neck, his lips pressing against your pulse as he slid his hand into your shorts, an impressed grunt settling against your skin when he realized you weren’t wearing any panties. Your face flushed red.
“Filthy fucking girl,” He whispered, “Did you do this for me? Were you hoping I’d touch you again?”
Yes, you wanted to tell him but you were too ashamed. You felt a little pathetic knowing you wore your tiniest shorts without any panties for him. Because you knew Mr. Styles would be unable to keep his hands off of you. You were hoping he would touch you again.
You couldn’t count on one hand how many times you rode your pillow imagining it was his thigh ever since Christmas. You’d ruined multiple pillows in the past couple of weeks, soaking them in your juices as you moaned his name while your body shook in the middle of your bed. It was great that you lived alone.
You nodded, his fingers sliding between your folds and rubbing over your clit. You were already wet, his fingers gliding against you with ease before he circled your hole.
“I want you to cum on my fingers,” Mr. Styles mumbled, his hips bucking against your ass as he slowly slid a finger inside of you, “I wanna feel this cunt squeeze me, I want you to push my fingers out of this cunt when you cum. Can you do that for me?”
Your head lolled to the side and you huffed, feeling another finger slide into you as you nodded, “Yes,” you whined.
“That’s a good girl,” you felt his tongue against your neck as he curled his fingers inside of you, the heel of his hand pressed firmly against your clit.
Your heavy breathing echoed off of the walls of the foyer and you tried your best to keep quiet. Your bestfriend was a heavy sleeper but you just wanted to be cautious. You didn’t want any interruptions, especially because this is the first time where being fingered actually felt good.
He bit down on your neck, pushing his fingers deep inside of you. You gasped and snapped your hand up to his wrist. You could feel your walls convulsing around his fingers, sucking him in as he sucked on your neck.
You shook your head, “No marks,” you mumbled, mind hazy as your knees started to buckle beneath you.
He tightened his arm around your stomach, his mouth still working against your neck as he moved his fingers faster, “Too late,” Mr. Styles whispered, his tongue immediately licking over the fresh bruise, “Now, be good and do what I asked, baby.”
You couldn’t respond even if you wanted to. His fingers fucked into you at an animalistic speed, the sound of his palm slapping against your cunt filled the air and you looked down between your legs. The shape of his hand poking through the front of your shorts, the feeling of his hard cock against your ass, the faint throbbing on your neck from the bruise his mouth had left - it was overwhelming.
Your hand tightened around his wrist as your body tensed. You squeezed your thighs together as he cupped your tit over your hoodie and grabbed it firmly, “That’s it,” He hissed, his fingers hitting a spot deep inside of you that made you moan loudly. He chuckled, “I feel it, give it to me.” He curled his fingers against your g-spot and grunted as you nodded, “Right there?”
“Right there,” you stuttered out, screwing your eyes shut as your orgasm shook through you, “Fuck, yes, Harry.”
You could feel him smile against your neck as he kept up his pace. You squeezed him tightly, just like he asked and he hummed, his fingers never letting up as he prolonged your orgasm. He didn’t stop as he began swaying the both of you gently. You smiled, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth when you felt your bladder swell. This was familiar. You’d done it almost everyday for the past couple of weeks but it was a way more intense this time.
Mr. Styles fucked his hips into you from behind, staggered breathing against the shell of your ear as your vision blurred and you soaked his hand. Your chest heaved and you whimpered, pushing his fingers out of your cunt as your knees gave out beneath you.
He tightened his arm around you, his lips pressing kisses to the side of your face as your nails dug into the flesh of his wrist.
“Such a good listener,” he mumbled to you, “That’s my baby, yeah?”
You nodded, swallowing harshly as you tried to catch your breath. Your shorts were soaked and so were your legs. You were sure there was a small puddle on the floor beneath you. But when the creaking of a door opening upstairs sounded throughout the house, the both of you froze.
You listened as your bestfriend’s footsteps padded against the floor before a light switch clicked and another door slammed shut. She went to the bathroom.
You pulled away from Harry and he reluctantly let go of you. You turned to face him and took a step back. He remained leaned against the wall, his eyes locked on you as he raised his fingers to his mouth and slowly sucked your juices off of them.
Your face flushed red and you looked away, “I should get something to clean this up,” You whispered, referring to the mess on the floor.
He waved you off, “I’ll take care of it. Go change before she sees you all soaked.”
You nodded and turned to walk away but just as you did, he reached out and grabbed your arm. He pulled you and you stumbled against his chest. Without warning, he kissed you. No tongue, no movement, just his lips pressed to yours as he raised his damp hand and grabbed your jaw..
When he pulled away, you blinked up at him, unable to stop yourself as your tongue darted out and licked your lips. He smirked and released you, walking away towards the kitchen and leaving you alone in the foyer; confused, guilty, and soaked from the waist down.
I watched her from a distance and smiled. She always kept her curtains open, even when she was sleeping. She always looked so peaceful when she was asleep. Her perfect lips parted and if I got close enough to the window, I'd probably be able to hear her little snores.
She looked tired tonight. Slugging around her cute little apartment with her shoulders sagging... in just her bra. I wanted to touch her, I wanted to make every single problem go away and I knew that I could. If she would just give me the chance...
She looks towards the window and I duck behind the bush, adrenaline coursing through my veins as she reaches behind her and unclasps her bra.
'so pretty' I think to myself as the flimsy lace falls to the carpet.
She turns away from the window and I frown.
It's okay if you don't want to show me yet, darling. I'll wait. I'll always wait for you.
Hey Girl!!! I absolutely love your fics!!! You always make such cool characters. Today was my birthday. Would you mind if I gave you a request?? You totally don’t have to do it. I just thought I would ask. So I had an idea. Of a dark Harry fic. I don’t know what you are comfortable writing though. I had an idea of a really mean and dark Harry. One where he breaks out of prison. Somehow he finds the reader and ends up kidnaping her. Then he has sex with her, either dub con or non con. He looks kind of roughed up. ( Beard and stubble, he just broke it of prison idk.)🤷♀️😂 (Again not sure what you are comfortable with.) Then he cleans up( Shaves and stuff) and is super rich. (Think 2017, dunkirk Harry.) Then she finds out he is a super powerful mafia boss and he ends up trying to get her to love him. And he forces her to be his wife. But she hates him. But idk. Just an idea. I just thought of a really hot dark character. And I figured I would ask one of my favorite writers to bring it to life. Anyway, again. You totally don’t have to do it. Love you tons!!! You are a fabulous writer!!
why do i love this so much??? lmao I’m completely comfortable with this and will start working on it as soon as possible! It’ll definitely be a tumblr thing though because I don’t think wattpad would be too keen on that 😭 alsoooo thank you for reading omg it means the world to me! 🥹🫶🏽
More bestfriends dads content please and thank you !!!!
I think this is gonna be a couple of parts.
PART 3 of whatever the hell this is. I'll probably come up with a name for this series soon. Maybe, IDK.
SUMMARY:
Harry is the father of your best friend. Everyone wants him but he only wants you. And the feeling is mutual. A little fooling around has never hurt anyone, right? Who cares if he's a little older than you? Who cares if he's the favorite parent to your best friend? It's just a little fun.
WORD COUNT: 2008
Maybe you should’ve said no when your bestfriend asked you to come to Vegas with her and her dad for his birthday.
It was a family thing. You had no right to impose on such an intimate gathering. But she insisted, reminding you that you haven’t seen each other since Christmas. In some friend groups, that’s normal considering it's only February. But you and your bestfriend never went longer than a week without seeing each other.
You were avoiding and she knew you were. However, she didn’t know the reason why you were avoiding and you wanted to keep it that way. You couldn’t exactly tell her that the reason you weren’t coming to her house anymore was that you had gotten yourself off on her father’s thigh while she and her family was in the next room over.
Your face heated up at the memory; for a brief second, you’d forgotten what you were doing until your Uber driver snapped his fingers to remind you that you’d arrived at your destination. You thanked him and got out of the car, making your way to the back to grab your suitcase out of the trunk.
You struggled a little bit. You overpacked just to be on the safe side considering your bestfriend never told you how long you’d be in Vegas. You frowned when your wheel got caught on the edge of the trunk. Stupid fucking Uber driver, he could’ve at least helped you with your bag. You scoffed and just as you were about to use the rest of early morning strength - because things were always heavier when you were tired -, a hand reached around you and effortlessly took the bag from the trunk.
The scent was familiar, you’d smelled it on yourself for days after Christmas. The warmth against your back was a comforting contrast to the brisk breeze that came with it being 5 in the morning. The sun was hardly peaking from over the horizon but it felt like it was shining directly on you.
Mr. Styles sat your suitcase on the ground and slammed the trunk shut, an annoyed look on his face as he glared at the Uber driver through the back window. The driver pulled away with eagerness and you watched until the car turned the corner.
“Thank you,” You mumbled to Mr. Styles, turning to look at him. He was already dressed, a thin white t-shirt covering his torso and a pair of blue jeans that were ripped at the knees. A clean shaven face that made him look twenty years younger than he was.
He nodded in return and you were suddenly nervous. You’d never been nervous around him, granted you’ve only met him in person twice before today, and one of those times was on Christmas. Considering how that day ended, you had the right to be nervous… just a little bit.
Mr. Styles took in your appearance and you felt small underneath his gaze. You were painfully aware of the outfit you’d chosen to wear to be comfortable - a pair of yoga shorts and a hoodie from college that was one wash away from being too small. His eyes traveled up your legs and your torso until he reached your face. He smirked, “Goodmorning. You’re early.”
“I like being precise, Mr. Styles. It’s my best and worst trait,” You said, reaching for your suitcase only for him to move it out of your reach.
“You have more worst traits?” He raised an eyebrow as he nodded his head towards the house, silently telling you to walk ahead of him.
“I have a few,” You spoke, any nervousness slowly vanishing now that you knew that what happened on Christmas hadn’t made anything awkward between the two of you. However, that didn’t stop the faint throbbing that ignited between your legs whenever you looked at him.
You opened the front door and stepped aside so that he could enter. He sat your suitcase next to one that you recognized as your bestfriend’s and another one that you assumed was his. You looked around the foyer as he shut the door. All of the lights were still off and it was quiet. Deafening, almost as you felt him approach you from behind.
“She said she’d be up by now,” You said referring to your bestfriend.
Mr. Styles hummed, his chest brushing against your back as he reached up and pulled your hair off of your shoulder, “You know how she is. She’s not a morning person. You can wake her up in a bit.”
You shivered and pursed your lips, “And what am I supposed to do until then?”
His arm circled your waist and pulled you back against him. He pressed his lips to the back of your head before he slid his hand down your stomach until he reached the hem of your hoodie, “I could keep you busy?”
You shook your head, a smile playing on your lips as he tugged the hem of your hoodie, “I don’t know, I get bored pretty fast.”
He moved his head so that his lips pressed against the shell of your ear, “I’m always up for a competition, baby,” he grunted, pressing his hips into your lower back, making a whimper fall from between your lips as he slowly trailed his hand to rest between your legs, “If you get bored, just let me know.”
You turned your head to look at him, his eyes already focused on you as he rubbed your cunt through your thin shorts. Your breathing shuddered and your hips bucked into his hand as he turned and backed against the nearest wall. You relaxed into his body, your head falling back against his shoulder as his other hand wrapped around your stomach.
Mr. Styles’ head fell to your neck, his lips pressing against your pulse as he slid his hand into your shorts, an impressed grunt settling against your skin when he realized you weren’t wearing any panties. Your face flushed red.
“Filthy fucking girl,” He whispered, “Did you do this for me? Were you hoping I’d touch you again?”
Yes, you wanted to tell him but you were too ashamed. You felt a little pathetic knowing you wore your tiniest shorts without any panties for him. Because you knew Mr. Styles would be unable to keep his hands off of you. You were hoping he would touch you again.
You couldn’t count on one hand how many times you rode your pillow imagining it was his thigh ever since Christmas. You’d ruined multiple pillows in the past couple of weeks, soaking them in your juices as you moaned his name while your body shook in the middle of your bed. It was great that you lived alone.
You nodded, his fingers sliding between your folds and rubbing over your clit. You were already wet, his fingers gliding against you with ease before he circled your hole.
“I want you to cum on my fingers,” Mr. Styles mumbled, his hips bucking against your ass as he slowly slid a finger inside of you, “I wanna feel this cunt squeeze me, I want you to push my fingers out of this cunt when you cum. Can you do that for me?”
Your head lolled to the side and you huffed, feeling another finger slide into you as you nodded, “Yes,” you whined.
“That’s a good girl,” you felt his tongue against your neck as he curled his fingers inside of you, the heel of his hand pressed firmly against your clit.
Your heavy breathing echoed off of the walls of the foyer and you tried your best to keep quiet. Your bestfriend was a heavy sleeper but you just wanted to be cautious. You didn’t want any interruptions, especially because this is the first time where being fingered actually felt good.
He bit down on your neck, pushing his fingers deep inside of you. You gasped and snapped your hand up to his wrist. You could feel your walls convulsing around his fingers, sucking him in as he sucked on your neck.
You shook your head, “No marks,” you mumbled, mind hazy as your knees started to buckle beneath you.
He tightened his arm around your stomach, his mouth still working against your neck as he moved his fingers faster, “Too late,” Mr. Styles whispered, his tongue immediately licking over the fresh bruise, “Now, be good and do what I asked, baby.”
You couldn’t respond even if you wanted to. His fingers fucked into you at an animalistic speed, the sound of his palm slapping against your cunt filled the air and you looked down between your legs. The shape of his hand poking through the front of your shorts, the feeling of his hard cock against your ass, the faint throbbing on your neck from the bruise his mouth had left - it was overwhelming.
Your hand tightened around his wrist as your body tensed. You squeezed your thighs together as he cupped your tit over your hoodie and grabbed it firmly, “That’s it,” He hissed, his fingers hitting a spot deep inside of you that made you moan loudly. He chuckled, “I feel it, give it to me.” He curled his fingers against your g-spot and grunted as you nodded, “Right there?”
“Right there,” you stuttered out, screwing your eyes shut as your orgasm shook through you, “Fuck, yes, Harry.”
You could feel him smile against your neck as he kept up his pace. You squeezed him tightly, just like he asked and he hummed, his fingers never letting up as he prolonged your orgasm. He didn’t stop as he began swaying the both of you gently. You smiled, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth when you felt your bladder swell. This was familiar. You’d done it almost everyday for the past couple of weeks but it was a way more intense this time.
Mr. Styles fucked his hips into you from behind, staggered breathing against the shell of your ear as your vision blurred and you soaked his hand. Your chest heaved and you whimpered, pushing his fingers out of your cunt as your knees gave out beneath you.
He tightened his arm around you, his lips pressing kisses to the side of your face as your nails dug into the flesh of his wrist.
“Such a good listener,” he mumbled to you, “That’s my baby, yeah?”
You nodded, swallowing harshly as you tried to catch your breath. Your shorts were soaked and so were your legs. You were sure there was a small puddle on the floor beneath you. But when the creaking of a door opening upstairs sounded throughout the house, the both of you froze.
You listened as your bestfriend’s footsteps padded against the floor before a light switch clicked and another door slammed shut. She went to the bathroom.
You pulled away from Harry and he reluctantly let go of you. You turned to face him and took a step back. He remained leaned against the wall, his eyes locked on you as he raised his fingers to his mouth and slowly sucked your juices off of them.
Your face flushed red and you looked away, “I should get something to clean this up,” You whispered, referring to the mess on the floor.
He waved you off, “I’ll take care of it. Go change before she sees you all soaked.”
You nodded and turned to walk away but just as you did, he reached out and grabbed your arm. He pulled you and you stumbled against his chest. Without warning, he kissed you. No tongue, no movement, just his lips pressed to yours as he raised his damp hand and grabbed your jaw..
When he pulled away, you blinked up at him, unable to stop yourself as your tongue darted out and licked your lips. He smirked and released you, walking away towards the kitchen and leaving you alone in the foyer; confused, guilty, and soaked from the waist down.
aww i love this so much!! are you doing a part two to this?? <33
ask and you shall receive! In honor of today and the events of this little blurb, we have part 2! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!
--
Just Harry…
You couldn’t. Not when there were so many people around. Surely they’d question just how close the two of you were if you called him by his first name. You shook your head, “I can’t do that.”
You looked towards the entryway of the kitchen, suddenly nervous that someone might walk in. However, every ounce of nervousness had vanished into thin air when he grabbed ahold of your jaw and turned your attention back to him.
Harry- Mr. Styles hummed, his gaze darkening as he tilted your head back, “Yes you can.”
You went to shake your head again, to protest but his grip tightened on your chin and you bit your lip to keep from whimpering. His touch made your skin heat and your lower stomach tighten as he pressed you further against the counter.
“You were such a good girl for me when I first met you,” he whispered your name, his thumb moving to pull your bottom lip from between your teeth, “Did everything I asked, answered all my questions. Don’t fuck that up now.”
You inhaled deeply, a little shocked that he cursed at you. Yeah, he swore around you, you weren’t a child. But hearing him speak that way when he was talking to you made your skin ignite. Something about the tone of his voice made your cunt ache and you were a little ashamed at the wetness pooling between your thighs.
Mr. Styles was attractive, you couldn’t deny that. But this was wrong. He was your bestfriend’s dad and wayyy older than you. Even though he didn’t look like he was in his forties. You only knew that because of one of the jokes that had been tossed at him earlier.
It didn’t feel wrong. It felt good. So good. And you found yourself leaning into his touch as you struggled to keep your eyes from fluttering shut when he slid his knee between your thighs.
“Someone could walk in,” you mumbled, despite your body slowly sliding down to press your cunt harder against this leg.
“I’ve got a thousand excuses ready if they do, baby,” he said, shifting and pressing his body harder into yours, “Go on,” he whispered, his eyes dropping and eyeing your skirt that had risen on your thighs, “How fast can you get yourself off?”
Your skin tingled and you began to sweat. You eyed the doorway suspiciously, but nonetheless, began to move your hips. You gasped immediately and the corner of his lips twitched into a smile.
You could hear the laughter and the loud chatter coming from the next room, everyone completely unaware of what was happening in the kitchen. You weren’t even sure you knew what was happening but you made no move to stop.
Not when Mr. Styles gripped your hips and angled you so that your clit rubbed flat on his thigh. Not when he slowly slid one of his hands underneath your expensive Christmas sweater and traced his finger along the underwire of your bra. Not even when he leaned closer and pressed his lips to yours.
You whimpered, liquid heat coursing through your veins as he bounced his leg in coordination with your movements. From an outsider’s POV, you figured this looked silly but the heat stirring in your lower belly distracted you from any embarrassment you could have.
“Focus on me, pretty baby,” he whispered, breathless as he slid his hand higher to cup your tit, “I’ve been thinking about you since I first saw you, I want all of your attention right now. Give it to me.”
You tossed your head back, lips parted as you tried to keep your moans as quiet as possible. Your back arched and you reached out to grab ahold of the front of Mr. Styles’ shirt as your orgasm peaked just that quick.
Never had you ever cum so fast, not even when you were doing it to yourself.
“Naughty fucking girl,” he grinned, encouraging you to move your hips faster when the sound of a chair scraping across the floor alerted your senses. Your movements halted out of fear but he took matters into his hands - literally - and moved you against his thigh. He shook his head, “Don’t stop.”
You turned your head and looked at the entryway again, too nervous to continue but not telling Mr. Styles to stop as your body heated with excitement. Adrenaline as you tightened your thighs around his leg. He watched you intently, his eyes moving from your heaving chest, to your mouth that was having a hard time keeping your moans contained.
There it was. Your orgasm shook you suddenly and you gasped, tears clouding your vision as you screwed your eyes shut and whimpered loudly. He chuckled and pressed his lips to yours, “Shhh,” he whispered against your mouth, his fingers digging into your waist.
There were footsteps coming toward the kitchen and you quickly shoved at his chest. He broke away from you as you straightened and pulled your skirt back down. He thumbed the corner of his mouth, a sly smirk on his face as he back away from you and leaned on the opposite counter.
Your bestfriend entered the kitchen and you turned away, immediately turning on the water to make yourself seem busy.
“College isn’t for everyone,” Mr. Styles spoke, your name lingering on his tongue as he tried to make it seem like you guys had been talking the entire time, “Do what’s best for you.”
You couldn't help but chuckle to yourself as you wiped a finger underneath your eye to fix the undoubtedly smudged eyeliner. You heard her scoff as she walked further into the kitchen, playfulness and cluelessness laced in her tone as she spoke, “No one wants to hear that, dad. Old man talk isn’t allowed today.”
You looked over your shoulder and smiled at your bestfriend, a pang of guilt settling in your stomach. She looked at you and smiled, completely unaware of what just happened between you and her dad. You could feel him staring at you and you tried your best to ignore him.
She nodded her head toward the living room, “Come on, my cousin’s about to set up the uno table. I call first deals.”
aww i love this so much!! are you doing a part two to this?? <33
ask and you shall receive! In honor of today and the events of this little blurb, we have part 2! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!
--
Just Harry…
You couldn’t. Not when there were so many people around. Surely they’d question just how close the two of you were if you called him by his first name. You shook your head, “I can’t do that.”
You looked towards the entryway of the kitchen, suddenly nervous that someone might walk in. However, every ounce of nervousness had vanished into thin air when he grabbed ahold of your jaw and turned your attention back to him.
Harry- Mr. Styles hummed, his gaze darkening as he tilted your head back, “Yes you can.”
You went to shake your head again, to protest but his grip tightened on your chin and you bit your lip to keep from whimpering. His touch made your skin heat and your lower stomach tighten as he pressed you further against the counter.
“You were such a good girl for me when I first met you,” he whispered your name, his thumb moving to pull your bottom lip from between your teeth, “Did everything I asked, answered all my questions. Don’t fuck that up now.”
You inhaled deeply, a little shocked that he cursed at you. Yeah, he swore around you, you weren’t a child. But hearing him speak that way when he was talking to you made your skin ignite. Something about the tone of his voice made your cunt ache and you were a little ashamed at the wetness pooling between your thighs.
Mr. Styles was attractive, you couldn’t deny that. But this was wrong. He was your bestfriend’s dad and wayyy older than you. Even though he didn’t look like he was in his forties. You only knew that because of one of the jokes that had been tossed at him earlier.
It didn’t feel wrong. It felt good. So good. And you found yourself leaning into his touch as you struggled to keep your eyes from fluttering shut when he slid his knee between your thighs.
“Someone could walk in,” you mumbled, despite your body slowly sliding down to press your cunt harder against this leg.
“I’ve got a thousand excuses ready if they do, baby,” he said, shifting and pressing his body harder into yours, “Go on,” he whispered, his eyes dropping and eyeing your skirt that had risen on your thighs, “How fast can you get yourself off?”
Your skin tingled and you began to sweat. You eyed the doorway suspiciously, but nonetheless, began to move your hips. You gasped immediately and the corner of his lips twitched into a smile.
You could hear the laughter and the loud chatter coming from the next room, everyone completely unaware of what was happening in the kitchen. You weren’t even sure you knew what was happening but you made no move to stop.
Not when Mr. Styles gripped your hips and angled you so that your clit rubbed flat on his thigh. Not when he slowly slid one of his hands underneath your expensive Christmas sweater and traced his finger along the underwire of your bra. Not even when he leaned closer and pressed his lips to yours.
You whimpered, liquid heat coursing through your veins as he bounced his leg in coordination with your movements. From an outsider’s POV, you figured this looked silly but the heat stirring in your lower belly distracted you from any embarrassment you could have.
“Focus on me, pretty baby,” he whispered, breathless as he slid his hand higher to cup your tit, “I’ve been thinking about you since I first saw you, I want all of your attention right now. Give it to me.”
You tossed your head back, lips parted as you tried to keep your moans as quiet as possible. Your back arched and you reached out to grab ahold of the front of Mr. Styles’ shirt as your orgasm peaked just that quick.
Never had you ever cum so fast, not even when you were doing it to yourself.
“Naughty fucking girl,” he grinned, encouraging you to move your hips faster when the sound of a chair scraping across the floor alerted your senses. Your movements halted out of fear but he took matters into his hands - literally - and moved you against his thigh. He shook his head, “Don’t stop.”
You turned your head and looked at the entryway again, too nervous to continue but not telling Mr. Styles to stop as your body heated with excitement. Adrenaline as you tightened your thighs around his leg. He watched you intently, his eyes moving from your heaving chest, to your mouth that was having a hard time keeping your moans contained.
There it was. Your orgasm shook you suddenly and you gasped, tears clouding your vision as you screwed your eyes shut and whimpered loudly. He chuckled and pressed his lips to yours, “Shhh,” he whispered against your mouth, his fingers digging into your waist.
There were footsteps coming toward the kitchen and you quickly shoved at his chest. He broke away from you as you straightened and pulled your skirt back down. He thumbed the corner of his mouth, a sly smirk on his face as he back away from you and leaned on the opposite counter.
Your bestfriend entered the kitchen and you turned away, immediately turning on the water to make yourself seem busy.
“College isn’t for everyone,” Mr. Styles spoke, your name lingering on his tongue as he tried to make it seem like you guys had been talking the entire time, “Do what’s best for you.”
You couldn't help but chuckle to yourself as you wiped a finger underneath your eye to fix the undoubtedly smudged eyeliner. You heard her scoff as she walked further into the kitchen, playfulness and cluelessness laced in her tone as she spoke, “No one wants to hear that, dad. Old man talk isn’t allowed today.”
You looked over your shoulder and smiled at your bestfriend, a pang of guilt settling in your stomach. She looked at you and smiled, completely unaware of what just happened between you and her dad. You could feel him staring at you and you tried your best to ignore him.
She nodded her head toward the living room, “Come on, my cousin’s about to set up the uno table. I call first deals.”
“Well, go on.” He says as he spreads his legs just a little wider. “Come get what you came in here for.”
The smirk on his face and the bulge in his pants are making your race. Harry doesn’t usually wear such well-fitted slacks. He looked so fucking good today. It was almost unfair.
This had to be a trap. He’s pulling one over on you so he has a reason to go to HR and give you a demerit so you won’t be eligible for partner this year. You and Harry have always been competitive with each other, but it was fun. There was no real malice behind it. You’re friends, sort of. At the least, you’re certainly not enemies. He’s two years ahead of you and is already a partner. If anything, he’s been a mentor in a weird way.
It’s around 7:30PM. Most of you are still working. It’s not uncommon to work long days at a law firm. You usually leave around 8 most nights. You and Harry had been looking for a particular file all day. He found it, and let you know. Which is why you’re standing in his office right now. He’s never presented himself to you like this before. You always thought he was cute, but you brushed it away because work was the main priority. Never mix business with pleasure. Never.
He’s sitting in his chair, slightly reclined with his legs spread. His head is cocked to the side waiting for your response.
“H-Harry, I-“ He leans forward and taps on the file on his desk. You sigh internally with relief. “Thank you for your help today.” You mutter while you cross the room to his desk to get what you came in for.
“No thanks necessary. By helping you, you’re helping me. Can’t really trust a first year intern with this specific assignment, can I?”
“No.” You answer quietly as you shake your head.
“You should go home, it’s late.” He stands up and adjusts the waist of his pants. “I’ll walk out with you.”
“I still have a lot to do.”
“I wasn’t asking, I was telling. The work will be there tomorrow morning. You can’t do your job right or be a good lawyer if you’re running on an hour of sleep. Did you even eat today?” All you do is blink at him. “That’s what I thought.” He tuts his tongue at you (tsk-tsk sound). “What am I going to do with you? If you insist on continuing to work, why don’t we go out for dinner. We can work on things together while having a nice meal.”
“Oh, Harry, you don’t have to take me to dinner. I have some stuff at home.” Your cheeks are so hot, and your mouth is so dry. He’s never been this forward with you before. Usually your cheeky banter is back and forth, but for whatever reason, he’s making you rather nervous tonight.
“What, like a granola bar?” He scoffs. “You like pasta, let’s get Italian at Rosie’s.”
He puts his hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of his office and over to yours. You grab your coat, and he very kindly carries your bag as you make your way to the elevator.
“You know it’s funny. When I first walked into your office and you were sitting the way you were on top of what you said to me, I thought you were essentially telling me to suck you off.” You laugh as you ride the elevator down. He side eyes you, his lip curling upward. “That would be crazy, right?” A full smirk grows on his face as the elevator dings. “Harry, that would be crazy.” You follow him out, racing to keep up with him. “Right? Right?!”
CEO Harry and y/n In the office and someone of importance walk-ins but that doesn’t stop the fun!!
This could go two ways.
god, the excitement I felt when I saw this because the idea popped up in my head so quickly 😃 entyyyywayyysss
—
Harry was relentless. His pounding hadn’t seemed to be letting up. Even when he picked you up and carried you over to the couch he had in the middle of his office.
Your lunch break ended a while ago, you were sure. But that was one of the perks of fucking the boss - you pretty much got to do whatever you wanted.
You had spent the night texting Harry and teasing him with dirty photos, even though you knew he had lots of work to do. When he finally did give in and play into your shenanigans, you ignored his texts, making it seem as if you had fallen asleep.
Harry was pissed. And horny. And he made sure you knew just how much trouble you were in with just a simple text before he himself fell asleep.
“If that’s how you want to play, that’s how we’ll play, slut.”
Harry knew exactly how to get back at you. Overstimulation was his favorite thing to do because it drove you mad, and right now, he was having the time of his life.
Your pussy was sore. Clit throbbing and aching as yet another orgasm shook you. You could hardly react to it and you lost count of how many times Harry had made you cum. He was drenched with your juices - face, chest, legs - everywhere had a trace of you there and he was loving it.
You whimpered as your back hit the cushions and Harry chuckled, smirking down at you as he circled the tip of his cock on your clit, “You aren’t giving up on me now, are you? Come on,” he teased, leaning down and biting your ear, “That filthy fucking mouth had so much to say last night, what happened to her?”
He slid back inside you, moaning loudly as your walls sucked him in. Just as you opened your mouth to respond, the office door opened.
“Harry, I keep forgetting to give you the file- Oh shit,” Niall’s voice rang throughout the office and you used the last of your strength to sit up on your elbows.
You smiled, “Hi, Niall.”
Harry kissed your neck as you kept your eyes on Niall. He watched the scene in front of him with wide eyes and cleared his throat, “Am I interrupting something?”
“No, ah-“ you moaned out when Harry bit your neck, unable to stop your head from lolling to the side. Still, you kept your eyes locked with Niall’s, “Close the door.”
He did, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
“Are you shy? How come you’re all the way over there?” You asked Niall, biting your lip as Harry began to move his hips again. “Come here.”
Just last week, you caught Niall staring at your ass. Of course, you did it on purpose because you overheard their conversation about how much they liked the skirts you had been wearing. But, it isn’t the first time you have caught Niall eyeing you. Even when you would wear your dress pants, you caught his attention. It was flattering, really.
Harry slid out of you slowly and stood up. You didn’t pay attention to where he walked off to because your eyes were focused on Niall. His eyes were wide behind his glasses, staring down at your used and flustered body.
“You just gonna stand there?” Harry asked as he moved around the office.
Niall glanced up at him and his lips twitched into a smile, “She looks like she’s been through enough, what did you do to her, Styles?”
Harry snickered, “Nothing the little slut couldn’t handle. Go ahead, get her ready again.”
Niall looked back down at you and you felt a flame ignite in your belly. He moved to kneel between your legs and you spread your knees as much as you could to fit his body. He licked up the middle of your tits, humming at the taste of your sweat on his tongue as he continued up your neck. You could feel him growing harder against your pussy and he groaned when you moved your hips up against him.
“Such a naughty girl,” Niall mumbled, his hand gripping onto your waist tightly. His arm snaked underneath you and in one quick motion, he sat up, pulling you with him until you were straddling his lap.
You winced in surprise, Harry chuckled as he made his way back over to you. He stood behind the couch, one hand resting on Niall’s shoulder as he stared down at you and the other stroked his cock slowly.
Niall’s hands gripped your waist and he sighed when he began to move you against him. Due to you still being wet from Harry’s actions, on top of Harry’s cum still leaking from you, you were slippery. Niall’s cock slid between your lips and over your swollen clit. You whimpered, feeling every bump, every vein as you fluttered your lashes and looked up at Harry.
He smiled down at you, his hand reaching out to roughly grab your jaw, “You’ve been a little cock tease, you know that?”
You tried to nod but his grip tightened, making your lips pucker. Niall chuckled and sat up, your chest firmly pressed into his as he placed a kiss directly under your chin. Niall’s hands roamed up and down your back and you shivered, attempting to pull away from Harry. He frowned, his hand leaving your jaw and snapping to your throat, “Answer my fucking question.”
Niall ducked his head and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, his teeth pulling at the bud as Harry choked your answer from your throat.
“Yes,” you muttered out, feeling your pussy clench tightly. Your clit throb and you knew Niall felt you because he groaned, biting down on your nipple harder and making you cry out.
Niall tisked, “Filthy fucking girl, those little skirts may have gotten you in some trouble.” He leaned back, tilting his head so that he could see your face over Harry's arm that was still extended to your throat, “That’s what you were looking for, right?”
Yes. You’ve dreamed about the day you finally got to be used by Niall and Harry, and if wearing skirts short enough to be nothing more than a bikini cover-up was going to get them to snap, that was exactly what you were going to do. That’s exactly what you did. You rolled your lips into your mouth to keep from smiling but failed miserably and let out a small chuckle.
“Oh?” Harry raised an eyebrow.
“Let’s see if shit will still be funny when we’re finished with you,” Niall slapped your ass harshly and you winced, “Up.”
You struggled to gain your balance as you stood and Harry reluctantly let go of your throat. You sucked in a sharp breath as you smirked at him but he was briefly blocked when Niall stood up. He stepped aside and put his hand on your lower back. His fingers danced up your spine until he reached the back of your neck and he gripped tightly. You gasped as you were tossed forward, barely catching yourself as you planted your knees into the couch.
Harry chuckled as you righted yourself. You were eye level with his cock, which was very convenient. You heard the coffee table scrape against the floor behind you and felt Niall’s movement, his body brushing against your cunt and making you shiver. You tried to turn your head to look back at him but Harry was quick to grab your jaw again.
“Nope,” Harry drawled out, forcing your head forward again, “Look at me, baby. Good girl, keep your eyes on me, yeah? Don’t worry about what Niall’s doing, just keep that pretty mouth open,” you nodded and he brushed your hair from your face, tangling one hand in your hair and bracing the other one beneath your chin.
You felt Niall behind you, his hands running up the back of your thighs and over your ass until he reached your lower back. He pushed down and you whined as you arched, your ass high in the air and knees spread as far as they could go.
You felt Niall’s fingers on your cunt, spreading your lips apart and blowing gentle air onto your clit.
“Eyes open,” Harry warned the moment your eyes began to flutter shut when Niall bit one of your asscheeks.
You whined, your back starting to hurt from how you were bent over the couch but your pain was short lived as Niall licked a stripe from your clit to your asshole. You gasped and Harry took the opportunity to slide his cock into your mouth. You could still taste your cum on him from moments ago and you moaned.
Niall grabbed your cheeks and pulled them apart, his tongue immediately working over your asshole. Subconsciously, you pushed back against his mouth as Harry slid his hips forward. His pelvis brushed the tip of your nose and you gagged as his cock curved down your throat. He held you there and tears welled in your eyes as you swallowed around him.
Niall puckered his lips around your asshole and sucked, a whine escaped your throat and sent a chill up Harry’s spine. He pulled out of your mouth quickly and you choked, spit falling from your lips and onto the cushions as you heaved. Harry wasted no time in driving his hips forward again, his cock going straight to the back of your throat and making you gag violently.
You felt Niall smile against you, his hand coming down on one of your asscheeks, the impact making you jerk forward and making Harry’s cock slide further down your throat.
They cackled and you whimpered. Niall slid his tongue down and circled your hole. Harry moved his hips, slowly at first, giving you the chance to breathe through your nose. He kept your head held firmly in his hands as your own hand reached out to grab his thigh.
Still, you kept your eyes open and locked with Harry’s. Niall lapped at your cunt eagerly, moving down just a bit further until his tongue glided over your clit. Your eyes rolled back as the pleasing sensation stretched up your spine. Harry released your chin briefly to slap your face. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but just enough to sting and make you focus back on him.
“Close your eyes again and he’s gonna stop,” Harry grunted, fucking into your mouth rhythmically, his fingers coming up to pinch your nose, “Then we’ll take turns fucking this throat instead, yeah? Use this fucking mouth until we can’t cum anymore.”
The thought made you shudder and clench. It was tempting, but the way Niall was working your clit had you re-considering that thought. You were close, you could feel the familiar burning in your stomach as he sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the throbbing bud as Harry picked up his pace.
Your nails dug into his thigh and he winced, finally letting go of your nose and tangling both hands in your hair. You whined, unable to fully moan with your mouth being stuffed. All it took was for Niall to press the tip of his nose against your hole and you came suddenly. You ripped your mouth off of Harry and he let you, his fingers loosening in your hair only to wrap around your throat.
He kneeled in front of you, his mouth attacking yours and swallowing all of your moans as Niall continued to lick you through your orgasm. You could feel how slippery you were as Niall dug his face further into your cunt. You whimpered, biting Harry’s lip harshly as your body trembled.
It was too much. You reached back, pushing at Niall’s head. He growled, smacking your hand away and sucking on your clit harder. You felt it, another orgasm building in your stomach as Harry chuckled against your lips. Harry choked you harder, stopping your breathing as you came. You squeaked, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Niall nodded, pulling away from your cunt, “That’s it, push it out for me. You can do it.”
Niall’s fingers came up to rub your clit, prolonging your release while Harry nipped at your bottom lip.
“So fucking good,” Harry cooed, “You’re such a good little slut for your daddies, yeah?”
All you could do was nod as you collapsed against the couch. They both pulled away from you and you sucked in a sharp breath. You were shaking, your throat sore from Harry’s assault, cunt throbbing erratically. You could hardly register what was happening when an arm wrapped around your waist and lifted you from the couch as if you weighed nothing.
Niall shushed you when you whined, his fingertips burning the skin where they rested, and he took a step back, “I got you, darling. You’re not finished yet, though, Look,”
His other hand came up to grab your jaw. You opened your eyes, immediately zoning in on Harry as he laid on the couch. He stroked his cock slowly, his eyes roaming over your spent body as Niall walked you closer.
Harry smiled up at you lazily and Niall laid you gently on top of him. You spread your knees and slumped against Harry’s chest. You felt Niall behind you and looked back. He grinned at you as Harry leaned up and nibbled on your ear.
“Relax,” he whispered and reached between your bodies. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds and you moaned, bracing your hands on his chest as his tip poked your entrance. He hissed as he slid in, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you against his chest as he laid back against the couch.
Niall shifted closer, his hand pressing on your lower back as he leaned his weight onto you, making your arch your back. His tip poked at your already full entrance and you perked up, the sudden realization of what was happening giving you a burst of energy.
Harry shook his head and tightened his hold around you, keeping you firm against his chest as you whimpered.
“Come on, baby,” Niall cooed, his fingers massaging your back as he slowly pushed into your entrance, “You’re doing so good, can you take both of us? Hm?”
You reached back, pushing at Niall’s stomach as the pressure overwhelmed your core. He grunted, his fingers wrapping around your wrist and twisting your arm until it rested on your lower back. He held it in place and quickly snapped his hips forward.
You shrieked, the pain coursing through your body and heat licking at your skin. Your clit throbbed against Harry’s pelvis as Niall’s arm circled your waist once more and pulled you against his chest, keeping your arm pinned behind your back, his hand that was wrapped around your waist coming up to wrap around your throat.
You wailed, this new angle pushing them both deeper. Surely everyone on the floor could hear what was happening in Mr.Styles’ office with his new assistant and his bestfriend but the thought of them listening to your whimpers and whines made your belly clench. You were right to take this job. You breathed out a chuckle.
“Yes,” you said into the air, feeling the pain drift away and be replaced by an overwhelming sense of pleasure, “Fuck.”
“Dirty fucking bitch,” Harry groaned as Niall titled his head to suck a bruise onto your neck, just over your pulse, right next to his fingers.
“Look at you, you little slut,” Niall huffed, “Taking two cocks at a time, God, you’re so fucking good.”
Harry’s hands slid up your stomach and cupped your tits as Niall began to move his hips. He grunted in your ear, Harry’s fingers twisting and pulling at your nipples from beneath you. You huffed out, your head falling back against Niall’s shoulder as you began to drip around their cocks.
Your walls hugged them tightly and they moaned. Soon, they began to speed up. With one harsh slap on each of your tits, Harry dropped his hands, one bracing on your hip and the other falling between your legs. He pinched your clit and you jolted, sinking down further onto their cocks as you moaned loudly.
His thumb worked your clit and he bared his teeth as he growled. He braced his feet on the couch and bent his knees as much as he could with Niall between them but the moment he found a steady hold, he broke. Harry fucked up into you roughly, knocking the air from your lungs and you were sure if Niall hadn’t tightened his grip on your body, you would’ve fell against Harry.
Harry licked his lips and Niall moaned loudly in your ear, feeling you clench tightly around them. Niall drove his hips forward just as quick, the sound of skin clapping echoing around the room as loud and incessant moans fell from all of your lips.
You were floating. Your body going rigid as an orgasm suddenly slashed through your core. Your eyes rolled back and your nails dug into your palm, pins and needles littered just underneath your skin from being pinned between you and Niall’s bodies. Your other hand slapped Harry’s chest as your head fell forward, which only made Niall tighten his grip around your throat.
They were relentless, never letting up, not even when you came again. You squirted, soaking them and the couch beneath as your cunt threatened to push them out. This made them go harder, the slickness of your release making it easier for them to slide in and out.
“That’s it, baby, push it out,” Niall whimpered, “Is it still funny?”
Harry grinned, reaching up to slap your tits once again, this time harder, “I don’t think she’s fucking laughing now, huh? Are you?”
Harry grabbed your sore jaw for the hundredth time today and slapped your cheek. You looked at him through lazy eyes as they continued to fuck your pussy. Your lips pouted in fatigue, eyes screwing shut as Harry slapped your face again.
“You’re gonna give us one more, alright?” Harry coaxed, his own movements becoming sloppy, “You’re gonna be just as good as you’ve been all day and let us milk one more orgasm from our pussy, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you repeated, already feeling the final orgasm sneak up as his words sunk beneath your skin.
Niall jolted his hips forward, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix and bringing tears to your eyes, “Yeah, what?”
“Yes, daddy, fuck,” you whined out.
“Good girl,” Harry praised.
“Yes, you fucking are,” Niall agreed.
It was right there. In arms reach, trapped between the now uneven movements of Harry and Niall as they chased their orgasm. You could see it, you could feel it, fuck you could even taste it. They fucked all thoughts from your head. In this moment, you were gone, watching the scene from outside of your body as they stretched you as much as they could.
“I’m-” Niall stuttered, burying his head into your neck and whimpering as his hips snapped against your ass.
“Fucking hell, yes, that’s it baby. Cum,” Harry demanded, “Cum with us.”
You did. Unable to produce any noise as your vision blurred white. You felt the warmth of blood underneath your palm from Harry’s chest as Niall bit down on your shoulder.
It felt endless. The pleasure you were experiencing, the feeling of their cum coating your walls and being squeezed out as you clenched around them. You were sensitive, tears streaming down your face as you finally sucked in a sharp breath. Your lungs burned and you coughed, Harry’s hands on your waist.
“Please,” you whimpered out when you began to lift off of their cocks.
“Hold on, baby,” Harry assured, “We’re almost done.”
They moved quickly, lifting you off of them completely, Niall using his hold on your body to shift you up over Harry’s torso, all three of your releases dripping onto his chest, until you were hovering directly over his mouth.
Harry parted your swollen pussy lips with his tongue and sucked at your hole, the rest of your cum falling into his mouth as he moaned against you. You buried your fingers in his hair, your thighs snapping shut around his head as he closed his eyes. You felt another tongue, licking over Harry’s chin and up between your asscheeks, lingering over your asshole before pulling away with a pop at the same time as Harry.
You sat up straight and fell back against Niall. He was quick to grab you, shushing you as he sat down on the opposite end of the couch, pulling you with him so that you rested on his chest.
You stared up at the ceiling, feeling Niall’s lips against your temple as Harry’s hands massaged your body.
Harry leaned over you, placing a soft kiss to your lips, “Rest, we’ll be here when you wake up.”
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