Welcome to the full collection of Peep/roommate!harry one-shots. Nothing is edited much from the original and I wrote all of these quite a while ago so please don’t judge. It’s literally just non-stop smut so you’re welcome!

by @tobesobri on tumblr

Peep: Part one

He wasn’t the worst roommate you’d ever had. There was the girl during freshman year of college that only lasted one week because she lit aflame her notebook. On purpose. In hindsight, you should’ve turned her in sooner after catching her playing with a lighter underneath the blanket at two in the morning.

Or there was the couple before Harry, the ones who, um… fucked a little too loudly for your liking. And it would’ve been fine, you could’ve dealt with it if they had been in their bedroom. But, no. You came home to quite the sight on the kitchen counter. One girl sat up amidst a failed attempt at baking brownies (undoubtedly spiked with marijuana) and the other one well… preoccupied between her legs. And that had been enough.

A bottle of bleach and a Facebook posting later and Harry was at your doorstep. Nice, simple Harry. Kept his things to a minimum. Made breakfast most mornings once he learned what you liked. Made sure you didn’t sleep through your alarm at 9:00 before he jetted off to start his day. Accidentally saw you in your underwear when he’d passed by your room his second week in. You hadn’t noticed and he didn’t say anything. You’d left the door open anyways. So, really, you were both to blame for it. Harry more so than you, though, when he stared for a little too long.

The days of getting used to normal roommate Harry were behind you. So far gone that you considered him a best friend now, moving into cuddling on the couch after a long day territory. You both insisting on texts if the other stays out past midnight. Him picking your drunk ass up after bar-hopping with friends. You trying to reign in your temper when you see the hair in the sink after he’s been in the bathroom to shave. Both of you avoiding the creaking sound from the neighbor’s room at 10:00 at night while catching up on your favorite show that had been previously recorded.

He had paused the newest episode after hearing the faint noise that only got louder once there was no other sound to mask it. “Fuck is tha’?” He had asked, scrunching up his face and sitting up from his lounged position on the couch.

“Sounds like…” And then you both had stared at each other. Completely horrified. He pressed the play button, sat back, and pretended nothing was happening on the other side of the wall.

Awkward run-ins were bound to happen upon living with people, but what had occurred tonight skipped right past awkward and went straight for this-could-possibly-get-me-kicked-the-fuck-out. Which it probably should have, if Harry cared at all about catching you doing what you’d been doing.

What you definitely should not have been doing had you not been sleep deprived and misperceiving the situation you walked into.

But after a text confirming he’d be out past midnight and hearing odd noises coming from his bedroom as you entered the hallway… who could blame you. The apartment was dark except the kitchen light he’d left on, knowing you’d both be getting back late tonight. You hadn’t given him an exact time and neither had your boss. ‘Late’ was all you had to go off of. You’d gotten Harry’s text two hours ago and froze when you heard sounds and saw the yellow light reflected on the wall opposite his cracked open bedroom door. Being the worry-wort that you were, the first thing you thought was that a burglar had gotten in to the apartment. The huffing, groaning noises being made a product of them lifting Harry’s expensive objects.

Your hand shook as you hovered it over the doorknob, not fully ready to face whatever was on the other side. Your shoulder bag still hung in it’s typical place, indenting your skin with the heavy laptop inside and your phone was still tucked away into the pocket of your dusty rose colored blazer. You brought your face close to the frame and pushed the door open only a couple more centimeters so that you’d be able to peak in soundlessly to check for a murderer without them noticing you.        

But, what you actually stumbled upon was hardly a masked man holding a gun and loading Harry’s shit into a duffel bag. And while you were relieved from that image, the one before you still did quiet the number on your body. You stood petrified with the doorknob to Harry’s bedroom still in hand and your eyes as wide as the Grand Canyon because those noises weren’t from heavy lifting. They were from Harry lifting his hips off the bed to buck into some unrecognizable female as she wrapped red lips around his…

“Ah, ah…” he whimpered and you just couldn’t manage to walk away. Couldn’t peel your eyeballs from the sight of Harry laid back on his bed, completely naked and sweat glistening on his chest as it heaved up and down. Couldn’t turn your head away from how he used the pillows to prop himself up and watch the girl as she gave him head, with his piercing green eyes and scrunched eyebrows and, holy fuck, the way he pouted out his bottom lip. You just could not find it in your legs to take a goddamn step back when you found his hand balling the girl’s hair into a fist at the back of her head, the protruding veins and muscles of his same arm letting you know how strained he was. How much he needed her to let him finish. How much you should not be fucking watching this right now.

You would’ve stayed longer, too, curious as to how Harry looked when he came. What other sorts of noises left his mouth when he completely let go. How his hair would frame his face as he lunged back into his pillows for a relief. What kind of dirty words he muttered between his teeth as he got his release from her with his whole length shoved in her mouth and spilling to the back of her throat. You would’ve stayed longer… if it hadn’t been for your stupid generic iPhone chiming in your pocket.

You were the only one with the dirty words now, cursing a little too loudly a simple, “Fuck,” in the middle of the hallway as you stepped away from his door immediately. It was too late, though, you knew. Because while you struggled to get your phone to shut the fuck up already, there was already a shuffling shadow behind Harry’s door. Him pulling it open to reveal your flushed cheeks and apologetic smile when you stuffed your phone back into its place already gave way to your guilt.

“Were you…?” He’d thrown on a pair of boxers, though still hard and needing his hand to cover what would otherwise be a very apparent tent in his underwear. You’d already put the both of you in an uncomfortable enough situation and even though he tried to not make it worse, your eyes still browsed down the front of him. The faint hairs of his happy trail stuck down with sweat and the ferns on his hips seeming a little more suggestive than every other time you’d seen them. And you didn’t know why, but his fingers being free from the bulky rings he usually wore was what really got to you. What really made you swallow the lump in your throat until your cortisol-flooded mind snapped out of it and you were fully aware that he’d just spoken to you.

“No!” Without a single hesitation, you defended yourself. The tiny incidence of a smirk playing on his lips, though, did not for a second believe you. “No… I didn’t see anything… I didn’t hear anything. I’m just going to bed.” You spoke quickly, something he already knew you did when nervous, and darted down the hallway to your bedroom. Never looking back. Adrenaline rush ready and willing to pack all your things and be out of the apartment by morning.

You felt as if you could do it, too, as you nearly slammed the door behind you and landed your back against it. Your room could be emptied in just a few hours, you’d never have to face Harry again. You’d never have to stare him in the eye and pretend you didn’t know exactly what his dick looked like. Or how he sounded, god, you could still hear him ringing in your ears with every huff and whine and “right there, baby, please.”

When your mind was clear enough to drag your shameful body to your not-so-welcoming bed, you felt what all those things had done to you. Your mattress was just about as messy as what was going on between your legs. First was the soaked cotton of your ‘work-comfort’ panties (i.e. granny-panties). Then the throbbing, the neediness, the eagerness…

You needed to sit.

To let yourself chill the fuck out, to pull away from it all and forget what had happened until it felt like just a nightmare. You cleared a spot on your bed full of clothes, hangers, various accessories, a couple purses, one shoe, stacks of paperwork from last night, highlighters, whatever else… Sitting on your phone and scrolling through emails to respond to for an hour just about did the trick. Until you got hungry. Until you had to go pee. Until you realized you’d have to step foot outside your bedroom and risk facing him again.

There was a knock at your door after about thirty minutes of your stress-inducing decision-making and it nearly jolted you from your bed, let alone completely ripping you from your thoughts. Because there was only one person who could possibly be knocking and you weren’t sure if you had the cojones to answer him.

“Open the door, Y/N.” His strict voice echoed in the hallway where the knuckle of his index finger rang again against the wood, pleading for you to let him in.

Your silence was enough for him to speak up again because he knew too much about you to know you hadn’t gone to bed yet. Hell, it probably would’ve taken you this long just to clear your bed of the mess he remembered discovering when he got home earlier after delivering your share of the mail left in your box downstairs. Which still sat in a neat pile amongst your just as cluttered desk. “Think we should talk ‘bout it, yeah?”

        It might have been a quick walk over and a disgruntled huff as you pulled the door open, but you had still spent a cool minute on your bed with your face buried in your hands ready for literally anything to happen. For hell to open up and pull you under so you did not have to do this.

        Being saved by the bell was only wishful thinking though.

        “Talk about what, exactly?” You deterred the second your eyes landed on his face, already noticing the t-shirt he’d thrown on so you could no longer lust over his bare chest. Which… was a pretty good call on Harry’s part because you probably would’ve done just that.

        “S’that right?” He was obviously a bit perplexed by your choosing to play dumb so he took half a step closer and leaned on the doorframe, your ever-growing anxiety getting a bit out of control at this point though you tried to retain your posture, “You weren’t watching then?”

        He matched the pace of you nodding your head in slow motion, completely tangled in the sticky web he’d spun and he knew it too. Pressing two fingers over his lips to gently hide the small little grin underneath them, he watched as you fumbled about your words. “I was, um… I heard noises in your room and… I dunno,” you shrugged, finding it hard to look him in the eye now. If you had, though, you would’ve seen the way he looked at you with dimples emerging and eyes bright because he was so amused by you. “I thought maybe there was a burglar but…”

        He seemed to inch just his face a bit closer, mouth still masked by his fingers, “But it was just me. Getting sucked off, right?”

        Your eyes shut tight and you nearly shivered at the sight he’d brought back into view for you. The one you’d barged into. The one that certainly wasn’t meant for you. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Harry.” When you opened your eyes, you were genuinely apologetic. He had every right to tease you about it because you had been quite the Peeping Tom. In fact, he had every right to kick you out of the apartment right now and you’d let him.

        His smile faded when he realized this, that you two weren’t exactly on the same page, “What’s there to be sorry about? I’m still hard and I’m assuming you’re a bit…” His eyes glanced down, surely, to your crotch and once they were back to you with the suggestive kink to his eyebrow, you knew exactly what he was on about.

        “Wait, you’re not mad?” You weren’t really sure if you’d be mad at him if the situation were reversed. It wasn’t like either you were notorious creeps. You would understand it was an accident. And that maybe he’d enjoyed watching just as much as you had with him. Maybe that you’d relish in knowing Harry liked what he saw, just as you had.

        “Mad? No.” He stood on his own again, crossing his arms over his broad chest and giving you that full dimply grin that was just slightly crooked. You’d learned a lot about Harry’s various smiling antics. There was the similar teeth-bearing beam he had when something really tickled him. And then there was this one. A bit of a smirk. A condescending, cocky way about his lips that you knew he had when he was about to say something rude. Or, as you just came to find, something incredibly naughty. “In the mood to fuck you if you want? Yeah.”

Peep: Part Two

You barely noticed, but with your drawn out silence and wide curious eyes, he’d been inching forward again. Nothing about the way you were looking at him rejected the idea and this was only his way of getting you fully committed to it.

“Well, my room’s a mess and…” You pointed out with the voice of a squirrel, quiet and quite intimidated. You didn’t see much of the girl Harry had over, but you didn’t really see yourself squaring up to her at all.

“And?” It didn’t seem to bother him one bit, not with how he started taking confident steps toward you, fully entering your room now as you let him. Every one of his slow steps in, you backed up the same amount.

“And… if you already… with that girl… why are you still?” Now you were the one with eyes traveling down to the zipper on the jeans you hadn’t noticed earlier.

“Well, after you interrupted, I told her I wasn’t into it anymore and drove her home.” He didn’t completely answer your question, not that you really remembered what you’d asked in the first place because he was getting closer and the back of your knees had just hit the mattress.

Swallowing the pit in your throat, you kept your eyes on his mouth, “W-why did you do that?”

He took that one last step and was suddenly right there in front of you, not quite touching you yet. He’d get to that later when he was done getting you all worked up, which he now realized he should do more often. “Wanted you instead.”

Then there really wasn’t much he could do to stop you from nearly knocking him right off his feet when you literally slammed yourself against him, lips and all. It took him a second, but he was soon all in as well with his hands both spreading across your lower back to get you closer. A throaty, heavenly sounding groan escaped between your messy mouths when you tugged at his hair. The lipstick you had on from work now surely smeared and blurred out around the once sharp edges.

You felt his fingers dig into the back of your thighs and prepared yourself for when he lifted you up onto the edge of the mattress, fitting his hips between your legs and still managing his mouth all over yours while doing so. He slowly tilted your back onto the bed, opening his eyes to look behind you at what he was doing. Shoving loads of crap out of the way, a few items on the opposite side of the bed hitting the floor, you scooted up onto the mattress as he followed.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing him in closer with your foot on his bum. He was still, however, preoccupied by moving your stuff out of the way, concerned with the stack of books about to topple over on your head. And once he did move them, with his arms above your head to keep them away, his eyes spotted something interesting among the mess.

He wasn’t sure, at first, what he was looking at, but once it resisted, he quickly reached out to grab the little device from a mess of paperwork. And brining it back to eye level with you, he left you sinking down into the mattress and he propped himself up on his elbow.

“You're a naughty little thing aren’t you?” Your eyes widened when you finally saw what was in his hand. Without second thought, you tried snatching it away from him, but his grip was much firmer than yours and you eventually lost the battle over the pink vibrator. Especially when he had to pin down your flailing arms. “Was that from that Amazon box a while back? The one you told me not to open?” He shook the bed with his out-of-breath laughing and tossed the ‘personal massager’ back onto the bed for later.

The look on your face said everything he needed to know. He pressed his lips together and held in his laughter this time, unsure if the look you were giving him right now meant you were about ready to kill him or not. “S’kinda hot actually.”

With your narrowed eyes and scrunched up face, he was sure now you were ready to kill him. “I mean,” he paused to lift your bottom half further onto the bed so that he could get his knees up and no longer be in an uncomfortable position. With both of you supported by the mattress now and you shuffling to untangle your hair, he continued, “you probably thought ‘bout me a few times…” He busied himself with kissing down your jaw and neck as he talked, making you gasp when he sunk his teeth in a couple times.

“Why would I do that?” Your words were a labored whisper at best, finding it hard to talk, or breathe for that matter, with his hand wrapped around your neck and his thumb pressed lightly at the base of your throat.

“Hmm,” he was a little lost in what he was doing. Biting, then kissing and blowing hot air onto the damp parts of your skin. He brought his lips back up to your jaw, closest to your ear, “Well, I think about you.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes rolled back into your head when his hand moved from your neck to your chest, easily sliding under the fabric of your work blouse and flimsy fabric of your lacy bralette. Pulling you from the confines of the bra like he was in a hurry, his tongue found his fingertips where he licked circles around the hardened nub.

He breathed out and caused your back to lift off the bed, pushing your chest closer to him. “Think ‘bout what you taste like.” He bit down on the skin at the top of your breast, “Fuck and how you feel around my cock…” Squeezing your breast in his hand now, he lapped at your nipple with his tongue before taking what he could into his mouth, biting you gently when he lifted his mouth again, “Bet you feel so good…” He mused finally and kissed your lips again, leaving the mess he’d made at the neckline of your shirt alone for now.

Until he was fully just ripping the blouse off of you and adding it to the collection of junk on your bed. He grabbed your hips and pushed you across the mattress again, this time having no care for moving anything out of the way first. And you were kind of into the pain of scratching your arm on something and using a textbook as a pillow. As long as he was looking at you the way he was now while he tugged off your skirt, taking your panties with it, you didn’t really care what papers you were about to destroy from squirming around on the bed.

He was on all fours, bent down so that all you could see was the top of his head and his rolling shoulders while he pushed your legs apart. While you awaited the sensation of his tongue impatiently, with him watching your belly and how jagged your breath had gotten, he had his mind set on something else. So, with his lips kissing up the inside of your thigh and nearly causing a heart attack, he sneakily reached for the vibrator. Eyes glancing up to you first to be sure he had your full attention while his hand wandered off.

He sat his lips at the top of your slit, waiting for you to roll your head back in the overwhelming amount of anticipation he was causing. Once you did, of course, he slowly licked down to your clit, realizing that he was going to have to have a stronger grip on you when you quickly sprung up the bed away from his touch. Within less than a second of that, though, his arm wrapped around your hips and he pulled you back to him, “No’ getting away that easily, love.” His muscles strained to keep you steady as he tasted you, beads of sweat on his forehead from how hard he struggled to hold you down.

“Fucks sake, Y/N,” his breath was heavy and hot onto your opening, “Sit still.” It was a mix of his unbelievable touch and the uncomfortable bed that got you so antsy. No matter how hard you tried not to, with his fingers spreading you out and his tongue doing nasty things to you, you really had no control over yourself.

Then he really fucked himself if he wanted you to sit still at all. You hadn’t heard the vibrator switch on in his hand before you felt him press it against you. His muscles strained and his veins popped from beneath his skin to hold onto you, but it was worth it. The scream that woke the whole apartment building was well worth the extra workout on his left arm. And when he had enough of you squirming across the bed away from him, he simply sat back on his knees, lifting your lower half along with him so that your legs splayed around his chest now and he had a better grip of your hips.

“Fuck you,” you spat at him, though it only aroused a little smirk on his lips while he still kept his eyes intent on what he was doing. Even though he was able to keep you in one spot, he couldn’t stop your legs from violently shaking as he got you close to the end with that thing on high speed between your legs. “Don’t stop,” your voice was a dry, barely-audible whisper. And even though he heard you, he still did the opposite of what you asked. Another couple seconds of spinning the vibrator around your clit and he turned it off, letting your body slip down his front until your bum hit the sheets again.

All you could do was lay there for what felt like hours, with your arms spread in both directions and him still sat in between your legs that hung off the bed behind him. He thought he might’ve broken you until your mouth fell open and out came more hateful remarks, “You dickhead.” He laughed this time though, falling back on top of you into the familiar position. And you just nearly came right there when the denim over his thigh pressed tightly against your bare center again. It wasn’t until you moaned that he realized what he’d done however.

“Had t’pay you back somehow for peeping on me, didn’t I?” It felt like worlds away how you’d managed to get into this position.

You shook your head, keeping your eyes hidden from him, “That was just rude.”

“Oh stop pouting,” he got your attention back when he sat up and lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it, “Come on, get some of this shit out of the way so I can properly fuck ya.” You took a moment, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers, for what he’d just said to stop fucking you up before you shifted around and helped his shove crap off your bed.

With every crash to the floor, you winced and hoped it wasn’t something breakable. Right when he reached to give a good shove to a pile of clothes, you wrapped your hand around his much larger forearm, “Wait.” And he paused, watching with curious eyes as you went in to grab something he wasn’t sure why you needed. Until you pulled out a long, metallic purple strip of condoms. “Knew these were around somewhere.” He shook his head at you incredulously, before ridding the bed of the last huge pile of junk.

“Where did you even get all of those?” After ripping one off for him, you handed him the rest to which he just tossed onto your floor with your other stuff. Because, really, he hadn’t even thought to use protection. You both knew each other well enough. Even so, though, he knew it was probably best.

“Got them free at my work. Take your fucking jeans off already, Styles.” You propped yourself up onto your elbows as he slid onto the hardwood floor to undo his pants. Now he was the one just a tad nervous as your eyes just about stripped his jeans off for him. With him stood fully naked in front of you, preoccupied with getting his foot untangled from his boxers, you fidgeting with the condom between your fingers. Not really realizing how intimidatingly toned and fit Harry was when you saw him from a distance on his bed.

And, of course, how painfully large he was. “What?” He questioned when he noticed your preoccupation with his dick.

You cleared your throat, “Nothing, um,” swallowing, you continued, “that thing could poke an eye out.”

“Fuck off, gimme that.” He snatched the condom from your hands easily and remained self-conscious while you watched him slide it over himself. It didn’t help that he was incredibly hard and it only made you more nervous to have him inside you any second.

“No wonder you have girls here all the time…” You mumbled, really making small talk with yourself while you waited.

He smiled as he watched his handiwork, having to pry the latex up with the snug fit of it, “Like you don’t have guys over when I’m not here.”

You tilted your head to the side, finally looking at his face instead of his cock, “No, actually.” He froze. His fingers hovering over the base as he slowly looked up at you, not at all expecting your response. “If it wasn’t obvious, no magic happens on this bed.” He licked his dried lips and watched as you fell flat back onto your floral printed, yellow sheets.

“Well,” he fit himself back between your legs, climbing back up onto the bed and making room for himself by pushing you backwards, the top of your head just about hanging off the edge. “I can’t guarantee magic,” he lined himself up with your entrance after wrapping your legs around his hips again, “but something’s gonna happen on this bed.” Your laugh was cut short when pounded himself into you, filling you up until you swore you could feel him in your belly. His hands planted on either side of your head, he strained upward to make you feel every inch of him that you’d been mocking earlier.

With his mouth hung open and a sigh of relief, he fell back down slowly, letting his tip slide out and slip over your clit a couple times that really got you screaming. With your neck twisted and half your face squished into the firm mattress, dilated pupils at the corner of your eyes to watch him closely, he was filling you up again. He took full advantage of your pouted lips and forced his two fingers inside while he slammed against you time after time. It caused your eyelids to droop and your hair to tangle. Your body to grow weak and your heels to dig into his lower back.

He watched with sweat on his furrowed brow as your tongue lazily swirled around his fingers until you grabbed his wrist to pull him away but letting his fingertips rest on your velvety lips, “…faster than that, Harry.” You panted and it made him lift an eyebrow that he wasn’t already giving you enough.

So, he sat up on his knees, chest perpendicular to the bed now, and thrusted hard until your head was hanging off the edge of the bed. You grabbed fistfuls of the blanket when he showed no mercy. Gave you no breaks from what you had cockily asked for.

He had full intentions of making you regret asking him to go faster.

Because, really, you had no idea what Harry was capable of. Not until he had both hands spread on either side of your hips, shaking both your entire body and the bed along with him. You were sure he’d managed to move the whole thing over and inch or two. And possibly scrape the wood flooring along the way. And when he really set into a steady pace that was much more than you could handle, he knew he had succeeded when you started screaming again. Your knuckles turned white as you dug for more relief that he refused to give you.

“S’what you wanted.” He choked out after you found the strength to lift your head up and get onto your elbows at the very edge of the bed now. And he only said anything because when he pulled your legs back to see your face again, it had looked like you’d just been through a hurricane. Your eyes stung with tears that smudged your black mascara into the creases of your eyes. Shorter strands of hair were matted down to your wet skin, on your forehead and neck.

“Y-yes,” your voice shook and he finally slowed down again, hovering his body over you again, kissing your lips again, letting you breathe again. He held your jaw tightly when he felt you clenching around him and adjusted to reach his other hand down and loosely rub his hand over your clit to edge you on.

“Ha-Harr…” Right when he was about to let you lose it, when you’d pressed your chest up against his like the sheets were on fire and when your legs felt like you couldn't control them anymore, the doorbell sounded throughout the apartment.

He immediately clamped his hand over your mouth and ceased everything he’d been doing to you, muffling the sound of your scream into his palm when he pulled out just seconds away from your orgasm.

You both looked at each other questioningly, wondering if the other had been expecting company. Once it was clear neither of you had any clue who was ringing the doorbell, he slipped off the bed and back into his boxers, needing quite the heavy hand to cover up his erection as he ran to the door.

While he was gone, you hung off the bed to dig through the pile of clothes until you found your robe. Fitting it around yourself, you followed his footsteps out into the main room. Keeping yourself hidden behind a wall, however, once you had full view of Harry’s bare back and the person on the other side of the door.

“I think I left my phone here?” It was the blonde from earlier, looking at Harry like he wasn’t a right mess. He was unnaturally sweaty and declothed. And probably breathing heavy.

“Phone? Um…” He shook his hand through his hair and twisted around slightly to scan the room for an unfamiliar iPhone. Instead, he just found your eyes when he did so. He gave you a warning look and mouthed, “Go,” at you before he turned back toward her. “Haven’t seen it.” You tiptoed back to your room, sure he was about to let her search his room for her phone. So, with your robe still on, you fitted your panties back on and found an oversized shirt to throw over top.

You started cleaning up the mess you two had made, cursing at Harry under your breath for ripping a couple vital pieces of paperwork that would have to be unprofessionally taped back together in the morning. You paused what you were doing when you heard their muffled voices on the other side of your door.

“Thanks, Harry. You know,” she paused and left you in hellish anticipation, “anytime your roommate’s not home, you can call me. We can pick up where we left off.”

You nervously waited for his response, which came after some nervous laughter, “Yeah, sure.” Their footsteps disappeared down the hallway and you sat down amongst your mess wondering if he’d actually call her. Wondering why you were so bothered by the idea of him actually doing so.

While lost in thought, you hadn’t heard the front door shut, nor Harry’s racing back to your room. It wasn’t until his loud, “Y/N?” that you realized he was back and that he couldn’t see you from where you currently sat.

You pulled yourself back to your feet on the opposite side of the room and he gave you a once over, confusion pulling at his features when he saw you’d gotten dressed. “We weren’t finished yet.”

“Actually, I’m kinda tired. And I have something in the morning, so…”

“What?” His tone was harsh and took you off guard, leaving you eyes wide and words caught in your throat while he looked at you like he couldn’t believe what you were saying.

“I mean, I just…” You started, having no real excuse planned, but ready to get back on the bed with him if he really insisted.

But, instead he shrugged and gave you an unexpected, “No, it’s fine. Whatever. Good night.”

Peep: Part Three

You sat in the dark kitchen, scrolling through your phone while your teeth chewed on the edge of the straw in your late night chocolate milk. It had been a while that your body forgot how Harry felt. He’d left every inch of you on fire and made it hard to sleep when there was still an ache between your legs. One that reminded you of how good he was and that kept replaying him on top of you every time you closed your eyes.

Sighing, you clicked out of Twitter, where you were only absentmindedly skimming through everyone’s posts anyways. You stared at your half empty glass and considered getting more to take to the couch. Your bed really just wasn’t an option at the moment, if you wanted to get any sleep tonight. You had picked up a few things Harry shoved to the floor, but the rest of it still sat there in the aftermath.

On top of it all, you couldn’t help but think that maybe you overreacted. Maybe he was just being nice when he agreed to her offer. Maybe he didn’t even realize what he said and was just trying to get her out of the apartment as soon as possible. Either way, it still made you feel a bit stupid for giving into Harry so easily in the beginning.

You let the screen of your phone time out and now truly sat in complete darkness, sipping on the last bit of chocolate milk because you were far too lazy to make more. You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about Harry and the other girl and where they would pick up from if he called her back. It made your cheeks burn with jealousy to think that maybe he agreed because you weren’t as good as he thought you’d be. Maybe she was better. You remember his face so vividly when she was down on him and can’t remember how he looked with you. With your hands clenching around your glass, you realized that was why it had bothered you so much. You weren’t as good as her, or good enough for him, and he had only come back for your sake. He didn’t even try to fight it when you told him you were going to bed.

So, that must’ve been it. And after you were done being angry, you were on the verge of tears given that your thought process went down a dark hole of self-depreciation. You spun the straw in circles that created a whirlwind in what little chocolate milk you had left.

“Thought you had something in the morning?” His voice had initially startled you, nearly knocking your glass over when his groggy words cut through your ringing silence. You glanced at the clock on the stove quickly once your heart rate settled down. Four thirty-nine a.m.

He shook out his hair and pulled it back out of his face with his fingers, then knuckled at his tired eyes while he waited for your excuse. He was still only in his underwear and you wondered what had woken him up in the first place. You didn’t make any loud noises that could’ve jolted him awake.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You admitted in a small voice as you watched him drag his unwilling limbs to the fridge where he grabbed a water bottle.

“Me neither.” He mumbled in between large gulps of water he swallowed down like he’d just been through a desert and dehydrated. He leaned up against the counter across from you and examined your glass at your fingertips, wondering how long you’d been out here in the dark.

“I don’t have anything to do in the morning.” You expected more than just an eyebrow raise from him when you confessed that. He didn’t even look up at you surprised, just kept eyeing your chocolate milk.

“I know.” He nodded and met your eyes again, which were now a bit confused. “I couldn’t stop thinking about why you kicked me out... I didn’t think you heard me but...” he sighed and looked away from you to gather his thoughts, “M’not actually gonna call her.” He shrugged and maybe it was because he was tired that he didn’t sound convincing nor did he seem convinced himself. “I mean... I don’t know why I said that.”

“Well, I can’t sleep because I just keep thinking that I wasn’t as good as her and that’s why you said it.” You refused to look at him when you confessed that, knowing it sounded crazy but also made logical sense. Had you been looking at him, though, you would’ve seen his eyebrows furrow and his jaw clench and his nose flare because it was the most ridiculous thing he ever heard.

“Not as good?” He spit your words back at you, “Y/N, I’m literally awake at four in the morning because I can’t stop thinking about you. You were fucking amazing and I was mad at you for just ending it there. I’m still fucking mad at you.”

The anger boiling up in you stood you straight from your chair. You gripped the counter hard and fought back at him, “I’m still mad that we didn’t even finish and you were already agreeing to have sex with someone else.”

“I told you I didn’t mean it.” There was only one other time you fought with Harry like this, and it was over laundry. So, it wasn’t new to see him mad, but you hadn’t seen that side of him in a long time or very often. He was generally the nicest roommate you ever had, now he was yelling at you and you were yelling right back at him.

You walked around the counter and closer to him, “You still fucking said it!”

He copied your actions and filled in more of the space between you, “Did you ever think I just said it so she would leave and I could get back to fucking you?”

The ache returned right when you opened your mouth to respond but nothing came out. There was a moment, where he stared at your lips and the tension grew. His muscles had hardened when he got angry at you and they only flexed more when grabbed your hips and just about flung you against the counter, mouth greedily around yours before you even had a chance to get in a breath before he suffocated you.

With his hands planted flat on the marble countertop, underneath your arms, he bent your back over the counter with how hard he pressed into you. You felt the anger he’d had bottled up in his biceps when you grabbed onto his for support. And it didn’t take much of you slipping out from under him with weak knees before he clawed his fingertips into your thighs and threw you up on the counter. You had gasped onto his mouth when your flesh hit the freezing cold marble because he had gathered your shirt so that when his hands grazed back up, he took fistfuls of it with him, wasting no time after peeling his lips from yours to hike the thing over your head.

He sucked in a sharp breath of air seconds after he’d succumbed to your lips again and you dug your hand down the front of his briefs. Taking him in your grasp, no oddly-colored purple condom between your skin anymore, you gave him one rough tug, feeling him grow even more with very prominent veins you grazed across with your fingertips. You felt him twitch at the same time his lips couldn’t hang onto yours any longer and he let out a whimpering noise while he shuffled his eyes down to what you were doing.

When you circled your thumb over his tip is when his leg jolted and you both felt the precum that had spilled out of him at some point, “Jesus. Fuck, look what you’ve done t’me.” A smug grin lifted your swollen lips as you gave him more, running your palm along his length so teasingly slow because it made you feel like you had all the power now. “Stop!” His voice was sharp and startling as he grabbed your wrist to pull your hand from him with a shocked look on your face.

“Not even fucking yet and m’already about to come,” he looked equally as stunned as you had, never in his 24 years had he had that experience. He supposed, however, it had been from his non-stop thoughts about the way you had felt around his cock all night since you’d kicked him out of your room.

“Thought you’d last longer than that,” you said, hiding your giggle behind your free hand.

“Fucker, s’your fault, you know.” Your heart raced thinking that it had been you to get him all worked up like that to the point where he couldn’t even handle mere seconds of a hand job.

“Me? What did I do?” You tried to keep a straight face though he saw right through to your teasing him.

He pressed his to tongue to the corner of his smiley mouth and nodded his head, “That’s how you want to be then?”

You leaned into him, close because you were sure what you were about to whisper made the high points of your skin flare red because it was possibly the dirtiest thing to ever leave your mouth, “If it makes you fuck me like you did earlier then... yes, that’s how I want to be.”

His face fell hard and flat as he looked at you now, completely deadpanned because he thought you only talked like that in his nastiest fantasies. And the break he was having to bring himself back down from the near high you’d given him was useless when he felt his stomach boil again the same as when you had your hand all over him. “‘Ave you been this naughty the entire time we lived across from each other?” He distinctly remembered calling you out for it earlier too, when he’d found the vibrator. There was so much more to you that he didn’t even know existed.

It was a question he didn’t let you answer, not when he scooped you off the counter and onto his hips in order to walk the both of you into the living room. Not even bothering with the couch he didn’t feel like ruining, he got down onto his knees on the white shaggy carpet you had before he moved in. With a light thud, he placed your upper back down while still holding your hips in order to get your last piece of clothing off that would only get in his way. He slid his hand up your thigh as he settled himself between your legs.

“What about you, huh? You just come up in my room with your smug little face looking to fuck me.” You continued the earlier conversation while he grasped your jaw to tilt your head and allow him space on your neck.

“Oh, I’ve been a cheeky lad since 1994, but you…” he kissed your skin lightly and nipped with his teeth just to feel you swallow as he caressed the stinging with the flat of his tongue. Kissing up your jawline, he paused at your earlobe, “where’d you learn to talk like that.”

He sent shivers down your spine and quickly moved his mouth down south to where his hands had been, sucking at the skin just above your breasts now and surely leaving marks to remember him by.

“Mm, public school,” you moan because he’s done nothing but playing with your boobs in his hands and in his mouth.

He snorts out a laugh at that and without even thinking, adds, “Fuck, I love you.”

“What?”

You try to get up onto your elbows, wide eyes set on his nervous face as he’s stopped what he’s doing and lifted his mouth from you once he realizes what he said. That one curl has fallen onto his forehead again. “I mean…” His eyes are darting all around looking for an excuse while completely dodging your burning stare.

When he finally does look at you, it just about kills you. He’s got this huge, lazy grin on his face and then just, “I love you.”

Planting your hand at the back of his neck, you pull his lips back to you. You’re not sure if he said that because of how early in the morning it was or if he actually meant it, but you felt like you could love him too. You already acted like a married couple on any given day while living together.

This time when you kissed him, it was different from when you were pressed up against the counter and still mad at each other. This time, you kissed him like it was the last time you’d be able to, with your eyebrows furrowed and your lips taking all you could of him because you still couldn’t believe he’d just said that.

Your lungs start to burn and a little scream erupts in your throat when you’ve been denying yourself of oxygen for too long, and especially when you’ve started trying to get his underwear off with your feet planted on either side of his hips. You only manage to nudge them just a bit before he sets back and gives you both a moment to catch your breath while shimmying out of his briefs for the second time that night.

He settled back over you, and you desperately grabbed at his face to get him back as quickly as possible, but he instead kept a frustrating, just-out-of-reach distance from your face. “You know I’m not gonna last long,” he said, whilst his hand was wrapped around himself between your legs, ready to go when you were.

“I don’t care, Harry.” With that, and with you tugging at his hair again to get his lips back on you, he guided himself back inside you as slowly as ever with a lowly growl from his throat that vibrated onto your mouth. And once he had filled you up entirely, his hands in familiar position above your shoulders to give him leverage, you let your lips part from his with a gasp. Wincing as you got used to him again, your fingertips snuck up his more tattooed arm until you reached his hand and he adjusted to intertwine his fingers with yours, pushing your arm up above your head as he held on.

He starts off slow, matching the deeper, more passionate vibes that had been rolling off of you, and mainly because he can already feel himself about ready to unravel. It isn’t until your eyes are open on his, staring at him like it was a threat. Like if he wasn’t going to go any faster, you might just kill him. When he did, when he started giving you carpet burn on your back and shaking down items on top of the coffee table, he brought his lips down to your ear.

Things like “you’re so good, you know that?” and “such a good girl, even though you got that dirty mouth of yours,” he muttered out amongst the smacking sounds of your bodies crashing together. It made your entire body tingle when he said them, his smooth voice just about melting your insides (and his cock just about reorganizing them).

You squeezed his hand tight when he got a little carried away as he got close. And really all it took was you running your free fingers through his hair in order to push it out of his sweaty face, and your shaky, “Come for me baby,” to get him to loose it. When he was there, as far inside of you as he could manage, it got even better the things he whispered in your ear. It nearly made you want to explode the way he kept repeating, “I love you,” and “I love you so much,” in a dazed voice until he had his release.

While filling your lungs with a sharp breath of air, he pulled himself out of you and slipped down your body to replace his cock with his fingers. Just as he got set up, with both his index and middle finger feeling around the mess he’d made in you and his thumb squared up to your clit, you grabbed hold of his arm, “Don’t.”

Quickly, he retracted his hand with a worried look on his face you felt guilty for, “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” he watched your face as you seemed to ready yourself to tell him something you really didn’t ever expect to be coming out of your mouth, “No it’s just… you’ll need a towel if you’re gonna do that.”

Then he’s practically drooling over you when he realizes what you mean. “My god, I’m so in love with you.” He doesn’t give two shits about grabbing a towel from the bathroom and has his hands all over you again instead. There’s no more room to argue when he’s pumping his fingers into you and running this thumb over your clit almost as fast as he’d been doing before because he’d rip his shoulder out of it’s socket to see you spilling all over him.

Which is exactly what you do when he’s through with you, having left you a screaming, floundering mess. When your body calms and your legs fall flat like noodles on either side of him, you watch breathlessly as he licks his fingers clean while still sat with his knees folded under him. “All worried you’re not good enough when you can do that, girl please.”

“Boy,” you mimic, lifting one leg to his shoulder to kick him off balance just a bit, “you can’t tell anyone.” He pretends to lock up his smirking mouth with an invisible key before tossing it. Once he’s had his fun with you, there’s a fleeting moment when you rest your head back and flutter your eyes close that he admires all of you and indulges in the butterflies you give him.

Before long, before he gets too lost in watching you breathe that he starts to feel like he could marry the shit out of you right now, he sighs heavily and places a hand down on your thigh, “Should get you cleaned up.”

“Mhm,” you respond, still not opening your eyes.

“We can sleep in my room,” he offers with again little response from you other than a tilt of your eyebrow because that sounded so nice, “sure yours is still a mess.”

“Okay,” you said with a content smile on your lips that makes him giggle.

“You’re not moving,” he slaps your thigh lightly because the last thing he wanted was for you to fall asleep out here on the floor.

“I can’t.”

Continuations: One

Normally, he was the first thing you saw when you walked through the front door of your shared apartment. He’d be right on the other side the second he heard your keys rattling, not quite making it over in time to open it for you if he was cooking dinner or on the couch. But, usually, he was there and ready with open arms because you’d both needed it after your long, and slightly crappy days. And right now, you were desperate for his embrace, having felt the ghost of his arms around you the second you stepped off the elevator and onto your floor.

Instead, your eager shoulders slouched back down again because he wasn’t there, nor was he cooking dinner in the kitchen or passed out on the couch to a self-induced Netflix marathon. And if you hadn’t seen his car in the underground garage, parked just as terribly as he drove, you would’ve assumed he wasn’t home.

Setting your things down on the counter, your keys next to the stack of mail he must’ve brought up when he got home, and kicking off your shoes as you called for him, you noticed the empty box of microwavable macaroni and cheese left on the counter. He hadn’t cooked as he usually did, and you would’ve been fine with that had he not told you that morning he was going to make his signature chicken parm. Plans had changed for a reason you weren’t clued into until his worrisome lack of response led you to his bedroom door.

That’s when you heard the shouting, not loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood, but he definitely did not sound like he was having a pleasant phone call. In fact, you flinched away from his door when his voice boomed out into the hallway with a loud, “No, aren’t you listening to me?!” And you could imagine him pacing around his room nearly tearing his hair out with a crease permanently forming in the middle of his forehead.

While you wanted to go in and see if everything was alright, you didn’t want to further irritate him, so you kept your distance, sliding into your room quietly to get yourself ready for bed because, although it was Friday with no reason to be up early the next morning, you were drained of all energy and willpower to stay awake much longer.

Jetting off to the bathroom after you’d changed into pajamas, which was just an old shirt of Harry’s, you fell into your nightly routine. You brushed through your hair first, slowly because you could just barely make out his voice again, until he was quiet and you moved on to brushing your teeth, quicker with that task in fears that maybe you’d miss something while the water was running.

When you made the first move to take your makeup off and wash your face is when you heard his door open and then slam close. And quickly after that came your front door, similarly shut behind him as he stormed out of the apartment. You’d never seen him quite that mad, but maybe he was just always good at hiding it from you. You peeked out of the bathroom as you ran a makeup wipe down your face to be sure he was really gone and then worried about where he would run off to because he really shouldn’t be driving while that pissed off.

Sighing, you closed the door again and went back to unclogging your pores, which was the best feeling at the end of a long day of wearing a full face of makeup. Once it was all gone, you got out your usual products and made sure your skin was squeaky clean and treated with ointments during a silent fifteen minutes before turning toward the door and placing your hand on the knob.

“Y/N?” He tapped lightly on the wood with his knuckle, standing defeatedly in the hallway and just about making you jump out of your skin. When you had the sink on again, he must’ve snuck back in the apartment while the running water masked his footsteps.

“Yeah?”

“Sorry about dinner. There’s some microwavable stuff in the freezer.”

You didn’t twist the knob yet, and you weren’t sure why because he didn’t still sound livid as he had before. So, with a much smaller voice than his, you chimed back on the other side of the door, “Oh, okay. That’s fine.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, to tell you to come lay in bed with him whenever you were done, but nothing came out. He knew he needed to be alone for a while to let off steam. So, instead, he mumbled a, “Goodnight,” and turned on his heel back to his bedroom. Your shitty day at work not exactly ending how you’d hoped or planned.

You tiptoed back to your room once he had his own door shut and you didn’t leave again, at least not until the entire apartment was dead quiet and you woke up with a dry mouth at one in the morning. That’s when you stumbled down the hallway, rubbing your eyes awake and realizing Harry had left the kitchen light on for you but turned off all the others before he disappeared regrettably into his room. Grabbing a glass, you filled it with chilled water from the fridge about halfway and chugged all of it in one go so that it no longer felt like thorns lined the inside of your throat. You tapped your fingers on the glass while you leaned on the counter, just about falling back asleep right there as you considered sneaking into Harry’s room. Surely he wouldn’t mind and you hopelessly needed his cuddles right about now.

Leaving the glass where it sat to deal with in the morning, you flipped off the kitchen light and felt your way across the walls as you made a bee-line straight for Harry’s room. Gently, you turned the knob and, ever so slightly, opened the door just wide enough to slip yourself inside. You walked on the balls of your feet as you maneuvered around his door, getting it closed behind you as soundlessly as possibly.

You faced his bed, your eyes adjusting to the pitch darkness of his room and deciding that he was, in fact, there. A lump in the middle of the mattress laying on his side and tucked in close to a pillow he held onto for dear life. You listened to his light snores with an admirable smile on your face first before whisking your way over to the edge of his bed. His room was identical to yours, but the furniture was set up differently and he was a lot neater than you were. There wasn’t a pile of books or clothes on the floor that you had to worry about tripping over. He kept things in their respective places for the most part.

Unless it was his collection of rings. They never seemed to end up in the same spot every time he took them off before bed.

In one quick motion, you slid yourself under the covers beside him and when you rolled onto your side to face him and inch yourself closer to his warmth, you gently pulled the pillow from his grasp, which made him groan irritably and shift in his sleep. Until you replaced the pillow with yourself and his arm wrapped diligently around you and he buried his face in your neck, breathing in the scent of your faded perfume. He pulled you in as close as he could get you, resting his hand flat against the middle of your back before he grabbed a fistful of your shirt like he might lose you and had to hold on tight to keep you right where you were.

You brought your hand up behind his neck with a sharp inhale when he unexpectedly kissed your throat and nipped at your soft, sensitive skin there because you hadn’t been sure if he was even awake enough to realize what was going on. But now, clearly, he was.

“Mm, missed you,” he mumbled with his lips still pressed to you, making you feel things you shouldn’t be at one o’clock in the morning. When your hips rounded up against him without you necessarily wanting to, but being in just his thin little boxer briefs, he felt everything. With a moan that ended in a light chuckle, he drew his lips up to your jaw just below your ear, “Didn’t wake me up just to get some lovin’ out of me, did ya?”

You felt your cheeks grow hot because you really hadn’t thought of that when you were sneaking into his room, but you were sure it seemed like that to Harry the way you’d been rubbing up on him. “Not my intentions before you started kissing all over me.” You put the blame back on him again and he huffed out a laugh against your jaw, blowing hot air onto your skin before he continued to do just that, kissing you lazily all over while also making sure there’d be something left of him on your skin in the morning so that this wasn’t all just a dream.

Your thigh became home for his cock as he grew hard with you wound tightly to him and especially when he brought his hand up between your faces to wrap his fingers around your chin and angle you just right to kiss your lips as idly as he’d been before. He was soft and patient, mostly because he was still running on half empty and so were you.

“Who were you on the phone with earlier? Seemed really upset.” The question had been on the tip of your tongue the entire time and came out just as he slipped his own from your mouth to get some air in his lungs again.

Then he sighed heavily and pulled your hand down from around his neck, falling away from you to lay flat on his back because he’d finally had some peace from that situation and you were bringing it all back up again. And although he didn’t blame you for being curious, as he would be too, you still regretted saying anything with how distant he’d gotten.

“M’sorry…” you mumbled in a small voice while practically burying yourself under his fluffy white blanket to hide how ashamed you felt for ruining the mood.

Glancing over at you again to find your eyes glued to your fingers as you picked at a loose string hanging from one of the pillowcases, his features immediately smoothed back out while he reached over to tuck your hair behind your ear and linger his palm around your cheek to get you to stop fidgeting. “S’alright. Was just shit with work, have a deadline tomorrow and a dickhead on my team can’t get his end finished.”

You were hesitant to push any further, but the curiosity got to you in the end, “That’s why you stormed out of here?”

He nodded, “He dropped some stuff off that I now have to finish in the morning.”

“Oh.” You dropped your eyes again and he already knew what you were about to say before the words even crawled up your throat. So, rolling back over to you, he pressed his forehead on yours and dropped his hand down to your jaw, fingers slipping through your hair.

“Don’t apologize again.” He reassured, nuzzling his nose against yours to get you smiling, “Doesn’t have to be in ‘till noon.” You already looked forward to the moment he was through with work, when you could go out and celebrate tomorrow afternoon. That and the way he kissed you again had your stomach buzzing with excitement. This time he pressed his lips into yours a bit harder like he needed more than just your mouth as he brought goosebumps to the surface of your skin when he slid his hand to your hip and tucked it up under your shirt, his fingertips skimming lightly up your spine.

“Harry,” you paused his motions when his hand rested on your ribs, the tip of his thumb just barely grazing your breast.

“Hm?” With his eyes still closed and lips intent on kissing the side of your mouth, it was hard for you to fight the words out.

“You have work tomorrow,” you reminded him, though he didn’t quite seem to care, not when he shifted his lips over to fully kiss you again and tugged at your shirt until he had his hand completely around your breast, squeezing tight to get you to open your mouth for him.

“M’already awake so… might as well, yeah?” He didn’t give you the chance to answer that before he pushed his weight on you until you were the one on your back this time with him half splayed across your body, tying you down to the mattress.

He lifted your shirt up over your chest, bundling the fabric below your chin before his lips left yours in a hurry to wrap around your nipple, a little too excitedly when his teeth grazed the sensitive skin, making you yelp and tug on his hair.

“Sorry,” you heard the smirk in the tone of his voice and knew he really wasn’t all that apologetic. Especially not when he glanced up at you with a cheeky little wink while his tongue was still preoccupied. His hand gave your other breast the attention it craved while your eyes fluttered shut because you could feel him growing against your inner thigh. Especially when he fidgeted around a bit to relieve the building pressure in his underwear.

Then he was lazy with his actions again, gently pulling your shirt up over your head so that it no longer got in his way and distractedly dropping it to the floor while kissing his way back up your neck, leisurely sucking in tufts of skin between his teeth by your collarbone that had you digging your heels into the mattress and jerking your thigh up into him.

“Fuck me already, please.” Your voice came out in more of a whine than you had intended and it made him hesitate before he dropped his lips back down to your skin and instead lifted the corners of his mouth up into a cocky grin.

“Would quite like t’hear you beg a little more for it first.”

Smiling frustratedly up at the ceiling, you huffed out a big breath of air, “Mm, so that’s what you’re into then?”

He cocked an eyebrow and lifted his mouth from you until you locked eyes on each other, the conversation taking a sinful turn, “That and some other things…”

“Yeah? Like what?”

He chuckled, shaking both your bodies as he nonchalantly seemed to be getting the both of you into position, tipping himself off to the side of you and lifting your shoulder until he was able to tuck the front of him against the back of you. And while he pulled your leg up onto his hip to spread you apart, he mumbled at your ear, “Like a little bit of spanking.” He coupled his words with a light tap to your bum that had you swallowing a very nervous pit in your throat.

“Just a little?”

Grinning, he muffled his voice as he buried his blushing cheeks into your neck again, “Naughty.”

“You brought it up,” you accused, his body shaking against yours again when he laughed at that. “Anything else I should know about?”

“M’not telling you anymore ‘till you tell me what you like… at least one.” He held up his index finger next to your face, earning him a giggle just before you swatted away his hand. Then when you thought about what you were going to tell him, you grabbed for his hand back, feeling about his fingers and straightening out his knuckles all while he watched, trying to clue in on what the one thing you were willing to admit to him was.

“My thing also maybe involves your hands.”

“Does it now?” You nodded when you drifted your eyes up to him, twisting your neck around further to get a good look although he was someplace else entirely. And you knew he knew when it became clear he was staring at your throat.

Discarding your hand, he brought his down to your neck, wrapping it around the side and pressing his thumb tightly into the center of your throat, catching your breath right there while he felt you swallow. Meanwhile, he had his eyes on yours the whole time, for any warning that he might’ve been wrong or that he was hurting you. Your eyes told him a completely opposite story and he got a little lost in how his hand looked around your neck. “S’this what you like?”

“Mhm,” he tightened his grip just the tiniest bit more, just to see your reaction, pleased with himself when you pouted your bottom lip out and dug the top your head back to give him more area to work with.

He let you go, only to burrow his fingers underneath the band of your panties and get you really riled for him when he pressed his middle finger onto your clit and worked you up teasingly slow. As soon as he did, he felt your body practically melt against him and your muscles turn to jello when he had to lift his knee up to get your leg to stop slipping off his hip. He kept his lips just below your ear because he already knew, all too well, how much you liked it when his mouth got a little filthy. “Y’want me to choke you when I’m fucking yeh, then, hm? When I’ve got my cock buried so far inside you, you wouldn’t be able to breathe even if I let you?”

Every single inch of you lit up with what he said, your hands balling fists into the sheets, your toes curling tightly inwards, and your stomach turning so fast that he almost had you nauseous. Your hand tugged at his wrist next because he’d also most definitely left you speechless, sucked all the words from your throat besides the three frantic ones that left your lips dryly, “I need you.”

He moved his hand toward his own underwear, pulling himself out because you’d already refused to let him touch you any longer anyways. He scooched closer to you, hitting the right angle when he locked your leg at his hip and tented the blanket around your center with his knee. And while running the tip of his cock through your folds as he shifted your panties off to the side, you couldn’t believe he had anything more to say. “Tell me,” his breath hit your neck, which waited welcomingly for his hand, “tell me how much you need me, baby.”

“Need you more than air.” It’s all you can think to say, but that does it for him. That had small dribbles of cum leaking out of him and dripping onto your thigh just before he shoved himself inside of you, stretching you out in ways you were all too familiar with but still making you gasp like it was the first time you were feeling how big he really was.

His moans at your ear matched how he fucked into you, drawn out and lethargic. And once he no longer needed his hand to hold himself in place, once he’d dug himself deep enough to the point where it felt like he was relocating your organs, he was back at your neck like a scarf wound a little too tight. It was just like it had been before, pressing his thumb into your throat and no longer allowing you to get out steady and even breaths. He sat idly filling you to the brim with his forearm pressed tightly between your breasts to keep you right up against his chest. His lips slipped from the corners of yours, “M’not moving an inch ‘till you beg me to.”

“Please, H-Harry.” Your voice strained against his hold and your weak, desperate cries made him that much more heated, “I love you.” He stretched you out more than you thought possible when you said that, having known just what to use on him to have him unable to tease you any further. So, with your last three words lingering in the air and tasting sweet on his tongue when he breathed them in, he bucked his hips out out you just as lazily as he’d gotten there. Getting you moaning louder and louder each time he pressed back in until he wiggled his hips the tiniest bit closer and managed to hit a spot that made you scream. That made him cup his hand over your mouth in a panic to cut it off before you managed to wake the neighbors.

“Shh,” he laughed as your eyes darted back and forth between his because he was continuing to hit the same spot over and over again with short, easy thrusts, “found the magic spot, haven’t I?”

While you nodded, your fists dug deep into the sheets for relief and he stared at the red marks he’d left on your neck, already eager to see how they looked on you in the morning while he was getting ready for work, knowing full well he’d been the one to put them there.  

Continuations: Two

“I’m coming in! I hav’ta pee.” He made you jump when he swung the bathroom door open and raced behind you to the toilet. You’d heard his bedroom door open and close a couple times since you planted yourself in front of the mirror to deal with your hair after your shower and assumed he really couldn’t hold it any longer.

You watched him for a moment, his hands racing to undo his jeans like he might actually piss himself if he didn't get them off in the next couple of seconds.

“You could knock you know,” you exaggerated how much you actually cared about him breaking his way into the bathroom as your eyes made their way up to his face once he had his jeans unzipped, “I could’ve been naked in here.”

He’d been tilting his head back in relief to finally be emptying his bladder before he rolled it over to you with a disapproving look, “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Not the point,” you mumbled as you turned back to face the mirror again, tightening the knot in the belt around your bathrobe. You cared more about the fact that he nearly scared you to death which could’ve been avoided with a simple knock.

“Wouldn’t have nearly weed myself if you didn’t take forever in here.” He shot back with the same under-the-breath mumble you’d given him and it made you roll your eyes while you were brushing out the last few tangles in your damp hair.

You heard the zip of his jeans followed by the flush and how he still managed to put the toilet seat down even if you two were currently bickering with each other.

Scoffing at him, he stood facing you on the small pink rug while you wiped the remnants of mascara from under your eye that still hung on frustratingly from last night, “You literally wake up an hour before me so you can hog the bathroom all morn-” Your scolding him ended with a gasp as he came up behind you, pressing your lower half into the sink counter and slipping his arms on either side of your waist until he reached the faucet.

And with his chin annoyingly on your shoulder, he turned the water on and washed his hands, trying his hardest to ignore your glare at him through the mirror although he couldn’t quite fight back the smirk spreading reluctantly across his lips.

“Why are you like this?” He hid his face in the fluffy fabric of your robe and shook your entire body with his giggles that inevitably made you laugh as well. You hadn’t meant to be funny, sometimes you sincerely wanted to know why he did the weird things that he so often did. Like trapping you against the counter so he could wash his hands with your new cinnamon-scented autumn-themed soap from Bath and Body Works.

When he was perched on your shoulder again, a toothy smile still unmistakably on his face as he finally met your eyes in the mirror, “You made me do it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and matched the energy of his smile with an equal but opposite frown. “That was a rhetorical question.”

“Mm, was it now?” Your eyes fell to his hands when you heard him turn the sink off and then before you could even think about stopping him, he had his wet hands all over the front of your robe, using it like a towel to dry them off.

“Harry!” He was giggling again when you tried to get his hands off of you as he proceeded to take what little water lingered on his skin to your face. “You’re so rude.”

And when he was done messing with you, when you had your fists wound tightly around his wrists to hold him back, he was in your ear again with a slightly less teasing tone. “Okay, I’ll stop, I promise.”

You didn’t believe him for a second, even if he was looking at you through the mirror as if trying to convince you he was an absolute angel and had no ill-intentions when you’d eventually release his hands.

He let out an exasperated laugh when it had been a whole minute, or at least it seemed that long, and you still hadn’t let him go. “I’m no’ going to do anything, I swear. Think you’re cutting off my circulation.”

“I don’t trust you.”

He nodded in agreement, “As you shouldn’t…” You followed his eyes in the mirror as they fell to your chest and you realized your robe was coming undone a bit but then he was fluttering his eyes shut and pressing his lips to your neck just the way he knew could convince you to do just about anything. “But I need my hands for more important things.”

You watched him as he slipped his lips up to your jaw, forcing you to lean over for him. You watched him open his eyes right onto yours through the mirror, but this time with a little bit of evil laced in the green irises.

You kept up the confidence while it lasted. “Mhm, like what?”

“Let me go and I’ll show you.”

You swallowed hard with that one, any witty response you could throw back at him getting caught on your tongue which he’d gotten all twisted up with just one sentence.

When you did finally manage to get your shit together, it was a shaky and pathetic attempt that he too easily saw right through. “I’m not falling for it, Harry.”

“Yes you are.” His lips were all over you again, reaching to the corner of your mouth desperately until you gave him an inch. An inch that turned into a mile when he had you all softened up for him, when his lips warmed yours and your arms turned into noodles that just couldn’t restrain him any longer. And the first place he put his hands once you let him go was on the knot of your belt that only acted as the last loose string holding your disheveled robe together.

Once it was untied, you could feel him pulling away from you as he watched his hands in the mirror, slipping up your body so slowly it gave you goosebumps.

“I have to get ready for work.” It was a whisper he would’ve liked to pretend he hadn’t heard, but when you disconnected from him in order to slow things down, there was no way he could ignore it.

With a groan, he pouted, “So? You can be late.”

“No I can’t. I’ll get yelled at again.”

He winced at that one, having experienced your boss first-hand before and feeling as if the older man needed a really good punch to the face. “Your boss is a cunt anyway.”

You sighed and let a small smile break the hard line on your lips from thinking about dealing with your boss when you showed up to work late for the second time this month. “He truly is, isn’t he?”

“The cuntiest.” Harry was already preoccupying himself with things well more important than getting you to work on time, like watching himself through the mirror as he replaced the fabric covering your chest with his hands.

And at first, you were watching him, until most of your body was exposed and you turned your eyes up to his face to watch as he concentrated his hands solely on your breasts, with his eyebrows knotted and his lips parted onto your skin, occasionally kissing your neck. But you knew if you looked head-on at what he was doing in the mirror, you’d get too self-conscious to let him touch you anymore.

When you moaned is when he finally said something. He’d noticed you staring at him all along, but now he had solid proof when he flickered his eyes up to watch your mouth as the noise came out.

“Look at yourself, love,” he muttered quietly against your neck, raising goosebumps across your skin with his breath, “you’re so beautiful.”

Sighing, you let your eyes fall to where his hands were, not warming up well to staring at your own body, but as he continued making you feel so good, it stopped mattering so much. The nerves melted into his arms and you felt him smile against your neck just before sucking your skin into his mouth as if neither of you cared about having a mark to cover up before work.

You continued watching his hands on your body, even when he had his eyes closed, giving your jaw most of his attention while his right hand, already adorned with his rings, slipped down the front of you and made you squirm.

“Easy,” he whispered at your ear as he tightened his grip around you. “R’you going to watch my fingers while they make you come?”

All you could manage was a simple, tortured nod as he had your breath caught in your throat with how slowly he inched his way down between your legs.

“Good,” he paused to dig his fingers into your folds, filling the empty space between his words with your whining, “because if you don’t watch, I won’t let you.”

Your whimpering continued as he circled his fingertips over your clit a few times, hiking you up onto your tippy toes when he slipped further down and fit his index and middle finger inside you, trying hard to suppress the grin on his face from your reaction and from feeling you out.

He didn’t even need to tell you how wet you were when his slick fingers now covered in you found their way back to your clit while he adjusted your posture, his foot kicking your legs further apart and his other hand in the middle of your chest now to press your back flat against his front.

With him working his wrist faster and your knees starting to shake and his growing length digging into your ass, you couldn’t help but throw your head back onto his shoulder and shut your eyes tight.

And then he stopped. He kept his fingers in place, but refused to move them again. “You’re not watching.” His voice came out almost as out of breath as you felt and it was so hot he almost had you spilling over the edge right then and there.

“Pleease, Harryyy.” The way you said his name made him want to give you everything you were begging for, but he couldn’t loosen up the ropes on his earlier promise.

“Open your eyes and see me then.”

You did as he said, rolling your head upright again until you had that same, clear view of the rings on his fingers, the silver sparkling under the light when he pushed apart your folds and made room for them again.

Watching him became a very difficult task as he pushed you closer because your lids were growing heavy and your eyes crossed every time he hit you in just the right spot. But he didn’t seem to notice or care once you were attempting to close your legs on him. When he had to press you into the counter and keep you parted with his feet again. He didn’t care when you were digging your fingernails into his fully-clothed thighs or when your little yelps echoed through the bathroom.  

“You can come baby, don’t worry.” His short of breath voice soothed you until you were falling back on his shoulder again, eyes closed and lips falling open lazily. As he worked you faster and faster, his other hand on your breast again, tugging at your nipple, your eyes fluttered open to get occasional glances of his arm. His muscles were as apparent as if he were lifting weights at the gym and his skin was polished with sweat, though he didn’t care at all about soaking through his work outfit as long as you kept moaning for him to continue.

Your little, “don’t stop, Harry, please… don’t stop,” kept him moving fast over your clit until your longest and loudest whine filled the room and your body began to shake and your back arched off of him, or at least as much as his hold around you allowed. He kept his fingers rolling idly as you came down until he knew you were too sensitive and he slipped his hand up to just below your belly button, where you felt all the pressure from what he’d done to you the most.

And then once you really felt like jello slipping in his arms, he brought those fingers up to your mouth, easily slipping them onto your tongue while he watched without the interference of the mirror because you were still laying back on his shoulder. “Made quite the mess, didn’t ya?”

Pulling his fingers from your mouth, you lifted yourself up to him, moaning around his lips while holding his hand at bay. “You mean, you made a mess?”

He laughed while pulling away from you and intertwining his fingers between yours, “Suppose so. I’d help you clean up but we shouldn’t both be late, should we?”

“S’okay, we’re even.”

He scrunched his eyebrows together, “What do you mean we’re even?”

“You’re going to work with that boner in your pants.”

Continuations: Three

“Shit, it’s cold out there,” you met Harry in the kitchen, shivering and placing your bag on the counter across from him. The apartment smelled amazing, but your ice-cold brain could think of nothing else besides sweaters, fuzzy socks, and blankets.

“It’s nearly freezing and you’re in a skirt.” His eyes gave you a once over, staring a little too long at your exposed legs as he grew angrier and angrier that you hadn’t brought a change of clothes to put on after work.

“Not for long.” Shaking his head, he watched as you slipped out of your heels, unzipped the skirt, and raced off toward your bedroom.

“M’not turning the heater up,” he shouted from his spot in front of the stovetop, carefully supervising a pot of penne, “it’s fucking expensive.”

He listened to you rummaging around in your room for a minute before turning the music back on he had been playing in the background softly before you came home. It was an eighty-song playlist you’d compiled for him a while ago that he still hadn’t stopped listening to.

Once the pasta was al dente, you’d returned all bundled up in multiple layers. “Smells good, whatever you’re making.” You stood behind him and wrapped your arms around his middle, snuggling your face into the back of his own warm knitted sweater.

“You’re shaking.”

“I’m cold.”

He turned then, just as you had glanced at the digital clock above the stove, realizing you’d gotten home later than usual thanks to the traffic. Instead, it was already a quarter past six o’clock and your down time with Harry at the end of the day was cut short by forty-five minutes.

He ran his hands up and down your arms, more than a little concerned with warming you up, “Go get under the blanket. I’ll bring the food over when it’s done.”

You did as he said, not that you would have argued otherwise because you wanted nothing more than to hibernate underneath a blanket until you warmed up again. Your favorite cuddling blanket was still strewn across the couch where it’d been left the previous night. And after getting comfortable underneath it, you busied yourself with finding something on Netflix.

“What do you want to watch?” You asked, eyes still glued to the screen while Harry stirred in the sauce over his pasta and split it into equally portioned bowls for the two of you.

“Something we’ve seen before.” Grabbing two forks, he joined you in the living area, setting the bowls down on the coffee table and laying the forks on the napkins he’d used as potholders.

You watched him curiously, “Why?”

“Because,” once everything was in place, he perched himself on one knee beside you with his hand gripping the back of the couch as he leaned closer. Kissing you softly on the cheek before brushing his lips over yours but not quite giving you what you wanted, “I don’t plan on watching it after we eat.”

“Mm, and what do you plan on doing, then?”

He just smirked, leaving your question verbally unanswered even though his face said it all. Pulling himself away, he headed back to the kitchen to pour the drinks.

After settling for rewatching Dexter, you grabbed one of the bowls of what looked like homemade mac and cheese. And you’d let him do whatever he wanted after dinner for having made heaven in your mouth.

You watched him set down two glasses of your favorite pre-mixed drink, surely having emptied the bottle that’d been sitting in the fridge for over a month. “You trying to get me drunk?”

“It’ll warm you up.” You agreed nonchalantly, reaching for the glass he’d left for you on the table as he already had the edge of his on his lips, feeling the forty-proof buzz within the first couple sips. He clicked the volume button on the side of his phone to turn the playlist down all the way and grabbed his own bowl before snuggling up beside you underneath the blanket.

You talked occasionally about your days as you ate, but mostly you found it hard to focus on anything in the present with Harry’s ideas for later looming like a relentless storm in your mind. It made you speed your way through your food and down about half of your glass in one go. Even his leg pressed up against yours drove you crazy as he left you in a restless anticipation.

“You alright?” He kept his eyes on the television, though your constant glances in his direction and squirming about the cushions like you couldn’t get comfortable definitely did not go unnoticed.

And finally you sat still once you were caught, “Yup.”

“Sure?”

“Mhm.” You didn’t see the little grin on his mouth, however, as you concentrated on breathing normally and calming yourself down, blaming all the fidgeting on the alcohol.

And he grinned even more prominently when you sat your emptied bowl down on the table, knowing very well you were ready to just about jump in his lap at this point, but he wasn’t going to let you so easily.

“Are you eating slow on purpose?” You asked after a quiet few minutes of just Harry chewing like a snail and your occasional sips of alcohol.

He raised an eyebrow, finally looking over at you, “Not sure what you mean.”

“Mm, okay then.” And since he was clearly messing with you, you decided to do a little of it yourself. Twisting yourself around, you laid your legs across his lap, accidentally (but not really) brushing your calf against his crotch. And when he groaned about it, you blamed it all on still being cold.

“Cold my arse,” he grumbled and even if he looked at you like you were invading his personal space, he still pulled your knees closer to him to get both of you more comfortable as you snuggled against his side until he eventually wrapped an arm around your shoulder and attempted eating the rest of his mac and cheese with you in between.

You watched him more than you did the show from then on. Staring lovingly at the birth mark on the side of his mouth as he chewed or at his bare hands you wanted so desperately to touch you.

“Stop starin’ at me.”

“I’m not.” And when he peaked over at you to verify that you were, in fact, staring at him you didn’t even try to hide it. You just met his green eyes and hoped he could read your mind.

Swallowing, you gained a bit of courage and asked him, “What do you have planned exactly?”

Smiling as he shoveled in another couple noodles, he chewed just as slow as ever and left you waiting nervously for his lackluster response. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

Frustrated, you huffed out a breath of air that blew your flyaway strands of hair from your face, “Will I?”

Suspiciously, he found your eyes again, not exactly sure of your intentions or why you were looking at him so deviously. At least not until he felt your hand sliding across his thigh until you found what you were looking for.

“‘Scuse me!” He grabbed your wrist and pulled it away, though you knew from the dimples prominently on his cheeks that he wasn’t actually offended. In fact, if he let you continue your course, he would be giving into you a lot sooner than he had planned. “M’trying to eat, you handsy little fucker.”

Pouting, you gave the current re-running episode of Dexter your attention again until another idea came to mind that he surely wouldn’t protest. So, hooking your fingers under the band of your sweatpants, you tugged them off your hips and sat your feet on his thighs to get them off your ankles while he grew curious.

When you had them off, you brought your grey joggers out from under the blanket and tossed them to the other side of him so he knew exactly what you were up to.

“Thought you were cold?”

“Kinda hot now,” you teased, your words very obviously having an alternative meaning to them that he quickly caught onto. Especially when he noticed the outline of your arm under the fabric, separating the view of you touching yourself from him. And when your eyes rolled back and your lips parted from the relief you’d been craving, he just about jumped in your lap.

“Jesus,” he muttered in a low growl, his eyes skimming their way back up to your face in complete disbelief that you’d actual gone there. Though, it’s what he deserved for leaving you writhing in your seat next to him.

His just about finished bowl of noodles sat abandoned in his hand as he watched the show you put on, idly shaking his head at you and at himself as he shamelessly grew hard in his own sweatpants.

And then he was really left in shambles when you lifted your hips again and the next thing to come out from beneath the blanket were your panties. Licking your lips, you gave him one last blow, “Mm, so wet for you Harry.”

Without even second-guessing it, he set his bowl on the coffee table beside yours. However, when he sat back to climb between your legs, you opened your mouth again and he paused.

“Not going to finish that?” You nodded over to his deserted dinner.

“Oh, fuck off, would you?” Grasping at your knees, he separated your legs to accommodate himself between them, pulling at the blanket when it got in his way, and laying you back on the cushions with a light giggle from you before he swallowed it up with his needy lips.

He got carried away fast, almost as if he hadn’t made out with you like this in centuries and as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, his free hand wandered south where your fingers had just selfishly been. Moaning into his mouth with your arms now securely wrapped around the back of his neck, he ran the pads of his fingers over your clit and it just felt so much better when he did it.

“You’re really impatient, you know that?” With his forehead rested on yours and both your chests heaving in the shared oxygen between your mouths, you could do nothing but smile at him.

“You started all this, remember?”

“I suppose…” He mulled it over for a moment before making his next move and filling you up with his index and middle fingers, making you gasp and dig your nails into his back. Seething from the pain and from seeing for himself how wet you were, he continued, “Guess I owe you.”

“Yes… please.” You were beyond lost in his touch with your eyes fluttered shut and ready for him to do as he pleased, as long as he did it within the next few seconds before you really grew agitated.

Chuckling at your reactions, he readjusted himself between your legs, sliding himself back on the couch until he laid on his stomach, squared right up with your center. He took the blanket with him as he did and a shiver of goosebumps rose across your skin, especially when his breath hit the spot where you wished his tongue would be already.

But, before he did anything you would practically beg him for, he reached out to mute the T.V. and start up the music again. The current song being absolutely perfect for what he was about to do.

“I love this one,” you mused, humming along to the melody quietly to calm your nerves.

“Know you do.” He circled his thumb over your clit as he kissed the soft skin just above there, making you suck in a breath of air that had him smiling against you smugly as he finally replaced his thumb with his mouth.

Digging your heels into the cushions, he held onto you tightly while letting his tongue give you all the attention you’d been aching for. He went between flicking his tongue gently over your sensitive bits to sucking you between his lips and laying his tongue flat against you, moving it in slow circles to really edge you on the way he knew you liked.

And every time he changed it up, you shifted and twisted yourself away from him, though he only simply followed right after you. Eventually, he reached for one of your hands, entwining his fingers with yours and letting you squeeze him as hard as you needed.

His moans as he was fully sunk into you and the tip of his nose tickling your skin made you feel every ounce of alcohol you’d consumed. Even if your body wanted to sober up, you were so completely drunk on how he sounded and felt vibrating against you.

“Nothing fucks with my baby…” He sang along when he came up for air, watching you fall back into the cushions as you’d been lifting your hips up into his face. Humming the chorus just as you’d done, he went right back in, licking the entire way up you until he was back in familiar waters.

He continued humming breathlessly with you just about suffocating him in ways he loved. Your whimpers overtook the entire apartment and he got used to the way you sounded, almost like memorizing lyrics to a song. Except your song was the best one he’d ever heard.

When he really had you restless, bucking your hips into him and squeezing his hand so tight it became numb, is when you heard his voice again, softly through the ringing in your ears. “No baby… not yet.” He brought you back down again, kissing your thighs as he gave you a break.

You started to whine then as tears stung your eyes, “B-but—”

He shook his head, “Uhn uh, gotta learn some patience, haven’t you?”

“Oh my god.” You wiggled in his grasp. “I’m gonna kill you.”

Continuations: Four

The whole first half of your day at work was spent worrying about Harry and even when you tried to focus on what you were supposed to be doing, it was hard to do so with the framed picture of him sitting on your desk, staring at you and reminding you of how he left the apartment this morning. Even though the picture was of him making a stupid face and flipping you off as you’d taken it, it was still adding to the constant concern ringing at the back of your mind anytime you tried getting anything done.

Because he had been very obviously not in the brightest of moods. From the way he nonchalantly turned your light on this morning without a single word when he realized your alarm hadn’t gone off again to the way he dragged his feet around the apartment and didn’t even have enough energy to muster a ‘good morning’ when you met him in the bathroom as he spritzed his favorite cologne that had uncharacteristically made him sneeze.

“Are you getting sick?” You had asked, flinging your towel over the shower curtain rod to begin your morning routine as always.

“Dunno,” he had mumbled with a shrug before leaving you on your own, something he also didn’t often do. He usually hung around, pretending to adjust his appearance in the mirror when he was really stealing glances at you getting undressed for your shower. And sometimes, most of the time, helping you out a little.

But, this morning was different. He hadn’t even peaked in the bathroom to say goodbye before he left. The longer you stared at the picture of him on your desk, the stronger your worries got. Until it all manifested into one big anxiety bubble you couldn’t get yourself out of, no matter how hard you tried to focus on your work ahead of you.

The idea of texting him hadn’t crossed your mind until after you’d picked up your lunch at the local sandwich shop down the street from your office. You knew, like he did, neither of you needed the distractions while at work. But, what you ran into on your way back warranted it.

You snapped a couple pictures of the puppies being adopted out at the small park between the shops and your office, forgetting all about the clock ticking away as you wasted your break time petting them and sending the photos off to Harry.

He’d be in for a real surprise of your apartment complex didn’t ban dogs. Instead, you typed away under a third picture close up of one of the Golden Lab pups who had practically smiled for you.

Thought you might enjoy some puppies.

When you finally managed to drag yourself away from them, with only fifteen minutes left on your lunch time, Harry had seen your messages. There weren’t, however, the three little dots as you’d expected shortly after.

You huffed, frustrated as you sat down at your desk with your food, at a complete loss for finding a way to cheer him up. You were sure puppies would do the trick.

Instead, you scrolled through your albums looking for all the stupid memes you’d saved over the years and found a couple that were right up his alley in terms of humor. Ones that would surely make him laugh, or at least you hoped.

After clicking and sending off a few, you finally put your phone down and focused on getting some food in before you had to stare at your computer for another draining four hours.

This time, however, you’d received a response and immediately swiped his message open the second your phone buzzed.

?

Puzzled by the simple message he’d sent, you scrolled through your conversation until you found your mistake. Amongst the SpongeBob memes and funny cat photos was one of you. Butt naked and laying out on a fancy hotel bed as you took full advantage of the mirror that had been above you.

“Oh, fuck,” you slammed your sandwich down, wiped your hands on your pants and picked your phone up in both hands to type out an apology. Though, he had beat you to being the next message sent as you struggled to spell anything given the nerves shaking through your fingers.

Did you mean to send that?

Quickly, you erased what you’d already written and typed something else.

No I’m sorry please pretend that didn’t happen

The bouncing ellipses appeared shortly after you sent your message and you scrolled back up the conversation reluctantly, finding it painful to look at the straight up nude you’d accidentally sent him. While he was at work. While he was sick at work.

You dropped your forehead into your palm and peaked at your screen through your fingers when your phone buzzed again.

You know I’m at work right?

Tears nearly stung your eyes both from sheer shame and from clearly irritating him. You regretted ever even sending him your annoying texts in the first place.

I’m so sorry Harry I feel like an idiot

I’m sorry

You bit down on your bottom lip and hoped he wasn’t as mad at you as you thought, though even if he was, you definitely deserved it. You’d sent a very not safe for work photo… while he was at work.

Oh you’ll be sorry tonight

As soon as you read what he’d sent, your eyes went wide and your thighs pressed together at just the first thoughts of what he meant by that.

I will?

During the few moments he took to respond, your mind raced with all the fantasized ideas about what would be waiting for you at home. It made your heart nearly beat out of your chest in anticipation.

You will. When you’re paying for what you did.

Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you gently set your phone down on the tabletop as you tried to collect all the pieces of you he had falling all over the place. And then you opened your eyes to the clock at the top right hand corner of your computer and groaned. Three hours and forty-five minutes.

You weren’t going to make it.

***

All that could be heard in the hallway was your heavy breathing after you took the stairs to buy yourself some time. The whole day had been spent glancing at the clock aver couple of minutes and then when you were finally free, you weren’t quite ready to face him just yet.

You weren’t ready for whatever he had waiting on the other side of your front door. Even so, you dropped your keys twice trying to unlock it and nearly bumped your head on the wood when your knees went a little weak.

Slowly you propped it open, peaking in carefully. He was nowhere to be found in the immediate area, so you slipped inside the apartment quietly.

Dropping your stuff off by the door and sliding out of your shoes, you padded your bare feet over to the kitchen where it was clear he hadn’t made anything to eat yet. And without any clear sign that he was actually here, apart from his car parked in its usual spot, you called out for him.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” He answered from what sounded like his bedroom and you rounded the corner down the hallway on your toes, literally and figuratively. For a moment, you paused, just on the outside of his door he’d left open just an inch or two. Maybe he’d forgotten all about it. Maybe he was feeling too ill to actually do anything. Maybe he was just lounging in bed, minding his own business.

You shook your head clear of your anxieties and pushed his door all the way open.

He was on his bed alright.

Stripped down to his tiny briefs that did nothing to hide the mound at his crotch. He had his arms tucked behind his head and his legs crossed over one another at his ankles. Clearly waiting. Clearly smirking at your preoccupation with what was going on underneath the only piece of thin, black fabric he wore.

When you drug your eyes up his chest and to his face, gulping at the sight of him, he beckoned you in with his index finger and you could do nothing but head to his demand.

As you got close, he pressed his palm flat against your stomach to stop you. “Can’t come any further with your clothes on, love. Those are the rules.”

“Oh, there’s rules, then?”

“There’s always rules.”

Your breath was shaky once you finally let it out as your hands fumbled with your work clothes and he watched you struggle to get your blouse unbuttoned because your hands wouldn’t stop trembling and your mind was too intoxicated by him to focus.

He smiled at you when you did finally manage to get the thing unbuttoned, letting it fall to your feet as you slipped it off your shoulders. Next came your pants, which were a much easier task. However, once they joined your top on the floor of his bedroom and you inched closer to him, he was stopping you again.

“Uh, uh. No. Clothes.” He repeated with a lot more grit in his voice to let you know the rules were strict about the bra and panties you still had on. You obliged, of course, but not without rolling your eyes a little first.

When he finally allowed you on the bed, his arm quickly snuck around your waist as he pulled you on top of him, making you squeal as he dug his fingers into just the right spot where he knew you were ticklish.

He ran his hand up your spine until he got to your hair, grabbing a fistful to keep it out of his way as he pulled you into him and helped himself to the skin at your neck like he owned a plot of real estate there.

You lost full control when he sucked his lips over a spot that really did you in, your hips rolling against his out of instinct that made him whimper. Falling back against the pillows, he fluttered his eyes shut.

“Have you any idea what you did to me?”

You hummed, settling yourself a little further down his body to have your own go at his neck and his jaw he clearly hadn’t shaved this morning. “Don’t seem to remember doing anything.”

He chuckled against your fingers on his throat, because of course you didn’t. “Mm, you don’t remember being told you were going to pay for it?”

You ghosted your lips all the way up to his own, keeping a distance that drove you both mad. “That sounds familiar, yeah.” You cocked your head to the side and ran your thumb over his bottom lip while watching his mouth pull at the corners into a grin. “What are you going to do to me, then, Styles?”

“You’ll see,” was the single damning phrase he left you with as he lifted himself up and closed the gap between your lips. Within seconds, one hand was at your neck and the other at your back and he switched places with you. Never once leaving your mouth, he kicked your legs apart and made room for himself in between them, forcing your moans down his throat as he let you feel exactly what you’d done to him.

Your hands slipped down the front of him, tickling the faint hairs that led below the band of his underwear, though you didn’t get as far as you thought you would when his much stronger hand grabbed hold of your wrist and pulled you away.

“No touching.”

That was the beginning of it. Of the rules he added onto that he knew would drive you crazy. Then there was the one he added when he was between your legs, tip of his nose pressed against your clit as your heels dug into the sheets because he’d stopped just seconds short of giving you what you wanted. He smiled while listening to you cry strings of, “No, no, no, no,” silently to yourself because you already knew the second he didn’t let you finish.

“Mhm, you’re right, baby.” He swam around in you a moment more before crawling his way back up to your lips, and you swore his green eyes had turned black, fully engulfed by his pupils. “M’not letting you come either,” he whispered in your ear as you writhed underneath him, tears stinging the corner of your eyes when he wrapped his hand around your throat and kissed you again to let you taste yourself as a reminder of what he was depriving you of.

Then he was turning you over until you laid on your stomach in front of him with your hands pinned behind your back. He leaned down until he was at your ear again, using his free hand to whisk away stray strands of hair. “If you scream, we’re starting over. So keep your pretty little mouth closed.”

He pushed himself off of you again and adjusted your hips so that your back arched just right for him while you damn near cried while waiting. You strained your eyes over your shoulder when you heard him moan and then wiggled at what he was doing. Breaths hitching when you saw his hand travel down his length and his Adam’s apple bob in his throat while he had his head tilted back. You wondered how long he’d wanted to touch himself like that.

And before you could do or say anything, not that he’d hear you if you even tried with your mouth muffled by the pillows, he spread your legs out and filled you up so completely there was nothing you could do but scream. You buried your face into the fabrics and let it all out in hopes that he wouldn’t hear you.

Though, when he stopped and pulled himself back out, you knew he wasn’t playing around. “Already breaking the rules?”

“H-Harry please,” you twisted around so that he could hear you at least a little better, “I can’t, I—”

“Yes you can.” You felt his hand on your stomach then, lifting you up again when you’d fallen weak. Then he was slipping himself between your folds, just to help you out a little and prepare you for what was coming next. Because, as much as he enjoyed fucking with you, he much rather would be actually fucking you.

He managed to dig himself all the way in without a peep from you, though letting you listen to every single sound he made instead. Especially when he saw you biting on the pillowcase to hold everything in and felt you digging your fingernails into the back of his hand.

Once he had a steady rhythm, burying you further and further into the mattress with every hit to your “magic spot” as he called it, he made his last move. The final cherry on top that would really have you fucked for him.

He started with light smacks, too far gone inside you to purposely force a scream out of you and make it all stop. But there were definitely noises coming from you when he tested the waters spanking you. And finally when he went a little harder, leaving an imprint and a few faint scratch marks from his rings is when your mouth hung open and you shut your eyes and fell complete victim for whatever the fuck he wanted to do to you.

His spanks got rougher when his hips got faster and you felt the sweat dripping off of his abs and onto you the longer he spent putting red marks on your ass. By the time he was at this point, giving you literally everything he had, he would let you scream until your lungs gave out. He didn’t care anymore. And it showed when he went a little deeper and he heard you panting but didn’t stop.

Though you were still a lot quieter than usual, even if he was letting every single noise that crept up his throat out into his bedroom. He was unfiltered and it made everything he was doing that much better.

He fell limply onto your back when he came, feeling all his warmth inside you and never once regretting getting your ass on birth control and ditching the condoms. You were both clean and it felt so much better for the both of you.

When he pulled out is when you really lost it, whining as he sat back up and dug his thumb through your folds to feel the complete mess he’d made on you. He made a snap decision when every single hard edge he’d put up beforehand came tumbling down and he twisted onto his back underneath you, fitting his shoulders between your calves and his face where you needed him most.

He let you make whatever noise you wanted as he licked his tongue up into you, feeling you flinch when his hands dug into your sensitive skin as he pulled you closer to him. You were practically kicking him within seconds of him on your clit, moaning against you when you damn near smothered him, though he never did stop as he rode you out, no matter how much his lungs begged him to.

When you pulled at his hair is when he finally let you go, watching as you fell flat on the bed after he no longer supported your hips. He laughed at the sight of you, having gone completely dead it almost seemed like.

“You alright?” He asked, massaging his hand up the back of your thigh and admiring the handprints he’d left on your ass once he saw them in their full glory.

You shook your head and he laughed again because at least you were responsive. “Don’t ever send me nudes again while I’m at work.”

And then your tiny little, “Okay,” followed even though you both knew it would happen again. On purpose this time though.