One Direction One Shots 2

Say It (Harry)

Harry was so mad at me he wouldn’t even let me hold his hand on our walk back to our flat. Every time I attempted he’d snatch it away from me and quicken his pace, leaving me to almost jog next to him to keep up with his long legged strides. It wasn’t helping that I found his anger amusing or that the glint in his emerald eyes turned me on more than anything.

It all started at our friend’s party. The minute my ex showed up, I knew Harry wasn’t going to be happy. He hated that I still talked to him and I knew that but an evil side of me loved riling him up so I made a show of talking to my ex. Laughing and touching his arm but never taking it too far. But to Harry, just speaking with my ex was taking it too far. 

We got to the house and I had to catch the door with my hand so he wouldn’t slam it in my face. I shut the door carefully and locked it while he pulled his blazer off and tossed it to the couch, emptying his pockets in the tray on our counter. 

“You done yet?” I asked him but he only glanced up at me, his eyes glared. “Harry, you’re being ridiculous.”

“You were all over him! How do you expect me to react?” There it was. The reaction. My little volcano erupting. The veins in his neck hard and his eyes pure green steel. It was bad how much I loved pissing him off. 

“I barely touched him.”

Harry shook his head and went to move passed me but I held his sides. He looked over the top of my head, sucking on his lips in anger. 

“Baby,” I purred, pushing my hands up the sides of his white tee. “Don’t be mad at me.”

“Fuck off. I’m not in the mood for this shit.” 

I grabbed his belt buckle and tugged him hard, causing him to look down at me. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Don’t flirt with your ex boyfriend in front of me and I won’t.”

“You really can’t stand it can you?” I asked, backing away from him until my back hit our counter tops and I could slide myself onto the cool granite. “The idea of him touching me,” I let my finger tips dance up my bare thigh, spreading my legs just enough for him to see the shadow my skirt cast between my legs. “Fucking me…”

“I don’t wanna hear this shit.” He tried to get away from me but I propped my leg up on the opposite wall, blocking him. He huffed and grabbed my calf, intent to move it but I held to his arm and pulled him to me. Never good with balance, he stumbled a bit, catching himself on the counter with his palms flat on either side of me. He stood between my legs now, so angry the skin of his cheeks were red. 

“You’re so fucking jealous.”

“I don’t want to be around you right now. Do you not get that?” His eyes were green fire and staring straight into mine. His words should have hurt my feelings but instead I smirked and let my finger curl under his tee so I could pet the back of my knuckle down the light trail of hair that disappeared into his Calvins. 

“You don’t get it do you, baby?” I asked, kissing his tense neck. Pressing my tongue to his pulse point. “No one can fuck me like you,” I whispered against his skin, his whole body relaxing as he groaned under my words. 

I pulled back and looked him in the eyes from under my thick lashes, undoing his belt buckle. “No one looks as good as you do naked. Or has a tongue like you do. God, baby….your fucking tongue.” I rolled my eyes at the thought as I unbuttoned his pants, leaning up to curl my tongue out and flick the tip against his lip. “Sometimes just watching you lick your lips from across the room makes me feel like your tongue is between my legs…drinking me.” I spoke against his lips, feeling his breathing, hot and ragged.