a deep dive | h.s.

chapter three - desperate

Harry sighed as he plopped down onto his bed, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. The cold air of his bedroom made goosebumps rise from his skin, a slight shiver running through his body. He moved to lay on his stomach, burying his face in the soft pillows.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand to check the time, seeing that it was only 8:46 p.m. He sighed softly and turned his phone off after seeing that it was still early. He had nothing to do since he already did everything he needed to do. He looked around his bedroom, trying to figure out what to do now.

Watch Netflix? Cook? Read a book?

No, he wanted to do something else to relieve his stress.

He looked down at himself before biting his lower lip, deciding if he should or not. He looked at his nightstand, tapping his fingers against the bed. Open it, open it, open it was what he kept repeating in his head. He didn't really know why he was stopping himself from opening it, really. It wasn't like anyone was going to care if he did or not. Plus, it wouldn't hurt anyone to make himself feel good, right?

And that's how he ended up here, moaning softly on his bed. His eyes were closed and his back was arching up a little ever so often. His one hand was gripping the sheets while the other was stroking himself, squeezing with both. His hair was sticking to his forehead a little bit because of the sweat that had gathered there and his body was also a bit hot under the soft sweater he was wearing. His sock-clad feet were digging into the mattress, toes curling a couple times. His mind was filled with such filthy thoughts, sometimes picturing them as best as he could on the backs of his eyelids.

Was it bad that he was thinking of Y/N?

He hoped it wasn't because she was all he could think of. How she looked like the last time they fucked, how she sounded like, what she smelled like, the filthy things she had told him last time, and many other things.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." He trailed off, his orgasm nearing. When he was just about to come, he took off his hand to edge himself. He sighed softly and opened his eyes to look down at himself, feeling himself throb with the need to come. But he wanted this to last longer, so he waited for his orgasm to fade away before wrapping his hand around himself again, stroking slowly. He couldn't help but thrust up into his hand, moaning shakily.

"I'll make you come now, yeah? But only if you're a good boy."

"Fuck me." He groaned softly as he replayed their last time together, speeding up his strokes a little. He spread his legs a little wider, back arching up a bit.

He lifted his sweater up a little to play with his nipples, whimpering softly as he touched them. He pinched and tugged, making him more turned on than he already was.

"You like that, hm? You like being choked?"

He sighed softly when he pulled his hand away, his cock laying hard on his stomach. He looked down at himself and touched his tip gently, hissing softly as he collected precum onto his finger. He pulled his hand away from himself again and closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath. His cock twitched against him and he let out a soft whimper, not being able to resist stroking himself once again. He had grown sensitive now after edging himself twice, but he still wanted this to last longer.

"Make me come, and I'll let you come, yeah?"

"Oh, fuck. Please." He said to no one, gently squeezing the base of his cock. He imagined Y/N doing this to him instead of himself, trying to imagine how her mouth felt around him. He tried to picture her pretty lips wrapped around his cock, her tongue running along his cock, her hands touching him in the best ways possible, and how pretty she was during it all.