#kaitlyns

Hey guys! I hope you like this one!! Sorry it’s short, I have homework, but it’s smut so woohoo!-kaitlyn

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Of course Harry had tried to reason with you about having sex. He wanted you, he said, loved your body and you no matter what, but could you be blamed for being hesitant? After years of bullying and humiliation and hating yourself, being expected to just open up to him and trust him with the thing you’d never let anybody else see was bound to be difficult. You wanted to, of course you did. If you were being completely honest, you wanted to hop on his dick and ride him until you both passed out; however, you worried about your size. All that weight on Harry’s narrow hips might snap him right in half. He’d argued against it but you rolled over grumpily and went to bed.

You sort of regret that decision now, though. You’ve been tossing and turning, one minute hot, the next one cold. Sleep seems impossible for you to reach and you know why, but choose to ignore it. It’s the throbbing ache between your thighs, the one caused by Harry himself as he was getting out of the shower. You hadn’t meant to stare, honest, but his cock was just too pretty not to admire, hanging low and heavy and big, even though he was soft. It was mouthwatering, really, and you wanted to drop on your knees right then and there.

Harry hums quietly in his sleep next to you and rolls over, his minty breath blowing into your face and fuck, can you blame yourself for getting so worked up? You’re proper dripping down there, images of him fucking you into oblivion flitting through your mind.

So, you choose to do something you haven’t done in a long time. Your fingers find their way under your navel and past the band of your fluffy pajama pants, easily slipping through your wet folds and pressing against the swollen heat of your clit.

You melt back against the mattress as you start to pleasure yourself, pretending it was Harry and letting out soft gasps every now and then. You try to remember to keep quiet but you’re too (embarrassingly) close to even think straight.

You’re about to cum, wiggling your hips and stretching your toes when suddenly, you hear a groggy Harry mumble, “Fuck.”

That’s what sends you over the edge, that one tiny word laced with his accent has you groaning and clenching around nothing. But then, as always, comes the embarrassment. “Holy fuck-” you try, about to explain yourself, but he shuts you up with a hard kiss.

“Can I please touch you?” he pants, his hips stuttering weakly against nothing. His cock is hard and the tip is peaking out from his boxers, flushed red and leaking pre-come. “Please, Y/N, lemme touch you please.”

Your head is spinning from the orgasm and the heat of his kiss, but you’re already aching for more so you nod, spread your legs a little bit for easy access and cry out loudly when one of his long fingers presses into you.

“For Christ’s sake-” you gasp, but he kisses you again and runs his tongue along yours hotly. His thumb comes up to press tortorously against your clit, you sink your teeth into his lip and you feel  your eyes roll back in your head. He’s moaning into your mouth, rutting desperately into the sheets as the warm coil in your tummy starts to tighten and heat.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck Harry please don’t stop HarryHarryHa-” You cum around his fingers with a loud cry of his name and you notice he’s still fucking down into the mattress, trying to get himself off. “Roll over,” you slur, and you’ve never really sucked a penis before but the pornos make it look a little easy so you decide to have a go at it, sliding his boxers down his legs and taking his cock into your mouth.

It tastes peculiar, not unpleasant but different than anything you’ve tasted before. The salty beads of pre-come leaking from his slit make your mouth water, so you take as much of him past your lips as you can and massage the other part with your chubby fingers. He moans, his toes curling and his fingers come down to tangle in your hair and it’s hot, you don’t ever want to stop making him feel good.

“Baby girl, fuck, love your fuckin’ mouth baby, such a good little girl, yeah? Suck it, princess, that’s right, choke on it a little.” His tip presses lightly against the back of your throat, gagging you but you trust him, look up to him innocently and you think maybe that’s what makes him cum.

His spunk fills up your mouth and although many would say cum is gross, you like it (it must be all the health food). It tastes like him.

“That was…” he trails off, breathless.

Harry had been feeling low all day. You could tell from the way he hadn’t flashed his brilliant smile at you this morning after exiting the bathroom, all clean teeth and wet hair. “Good morning,” you’d tried, rolling over to face him from your comfortable position in the bed.  

“Hmph,” he grunted back.  

“Grumpy pants.” The irritated mumble was too quiet for him to hear, but you’d felt bad. Harry was never like this, always the one to start the joking, the one to poke and pinch at your sides and make you giggle. You’d climbed wearily out of bed, your joints popping as you wandered over to the dresser in your comfy, unimpressive white cotton panties and grey sports bra.  

You went downstairs as he talked quietly on the phone with either one of the other boys or management, prepared a breakfast of pancakes and sausage and waited lazily for him. After 5 minutes of calling his name, you’re rewarded with the sound of his big feet clomping down the stairs and dragging into the kitchen. “Hi,” you said with a soft smile.  

He doesn’t meet your eyes. “Hullo.”

“Alright, love?” The smile drops and you pad over to him, frowning and leaning against him. “What’s wrong, Harry?”

“Nothing,” he sighs. “Just don’t feel like myself today. Also, Simon invited us to his award party or something. It’s tonight at 6, I gotta go to make a speech or somethin’ but you could stay home if you wanted.”  

“I’ll go,” you reply quietly, tracing patterns into the place where his hips jut out above his pants. “Is it formal?”  

You feel him nod against your neck. “Yeah, you can go buy a new dress if you want. I gotta go into the studio for a little bit.”  

Pouting, you squeeze him against you and whine, “Nooooo, Harry, just stay home. I made pancakes. Vegan pancakes.”  

“Can’t, peaches. They want me there in an hour. I’ll have a bite but I gotta leave.” He leans down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead and sighs. “Love you, Y/N.”  

You eat with him, quicker than you would’ve liked but you don’t complain much, especially when he drags you in for a long-lasting kiss that tastes like syrup and him.  

//  

You do buy a new dress, an expensive one that fits over your curves and feels like Heaven against your skin. Harry’s credit card is only one of the perks of dating him, and though you don’t utilize it often, it’s fun when you do. You buy yourself lunch and spend another hour or two window-shopping, picking yourself up a new pair of earrings and shoes.  

When you get home, Harry’s already there sipping a glass of water. “Hey, peaches,” he murmurs as you enter.  

“Harry! You’re home so early, how come?”  

He shrugs. “They said we could leave earlier than they thought. All we did was discuss the album some more, even though we could’ve done it over the phone. I’ve been home for a while. Where did you go?”

You set your bags on the counter and kiss the corner of his mouth. “Went to some fancy plus-size store and got a dress, I think you’ll like it. It’s red with black lace and it’s really nice.”  

He squeezes your hips and smiles down at you, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll love it.”  

//  

The party is like every party you’ve been to since dating Harry, filled with snooty rich people who look you up and down with thinly-veiled disgust and expensive alcohol. Harry orders you both some sort of fruity drink that burns a little sliding down your throat, and you don’t mind so much as you start to feel your head spin a little.

People make speeches. Harry does too, but you don’t pay attention to it because you know his script. When he sits back down in the seat next to you, his eyes are a little glossy with tears and your heart goes into overdrive. You grab his hand and pull him towards one of the private bathrooms, ignoring his complaints. When the door is locked, you press your lips to his angrily.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” You frown at him as you pull away and he sniffles a little.

“I just don’t feel good! I don’t like myself at all today. My hair is ugly and all my clothes fit too tight and I tried to pluck my eyebrows last night with your tweezers but I fucked them up so now they look dumb and I want to go home!” His voice is loud and angry and tears are welling up quickly in his green eyes.  

You pause, taken aback by his outburst. He’s never talked to you like this before, it’s unnerving. After a long moment of silence, you lay your head on his chest and wrap your arms around him. “Harry,” you murmur, lifting your head to kiss along his jaw. “You’re lovely, you know? Sounds cheesy, but you’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen. Your hair is soft and pretty and I like to run my fingers through it,” I pause and do just that, letting the little strands tickle the spaces between your fingers. “Your clothes fit fine, darling. You look so handsome tonight, it’s killing me, And Harry, your eyebrows look fine, but you know you can ask me for help, right?” Your voice is soft as you stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek and lips. “I love you, okay?”  

He sighs and nods. “I love you too. Thank you, Y/N.”  

You talk for a little while longer, telling him other things you like about him (trying not to sound weird, because honestly you like everything about him). When you’re finished, you both leave the bathroom hand-in-hand and Harry seems more content.  

//  

“Sit down,” you command quietly, and Harry follows the order with a perplexed but interested look. His black dress shirt is halfway unbuttoned and you press your hand against the bare part of his chest, pushing him to lie down on the bed.  

He doesn’t know how to respond when you bend over and start undoing his buttons and his jeans. It’s slightly awkward, but after your hands brush his cock a few times the weirdness of the situation dissipates. “Suddenly dominant?” he questions. The bed dips as you sit next to him, rubbing his half-hard cock absently, listening to his huffs and puffs.  

“Yeah,” you reply quietly.  

Harry doesn’t respond, just relaxes and lets you get him hard, and when he’s tenting in his boxers you slip them down and slide his tip past your lips. He grunts softly, running his fingers through your hair and gripping at the base of your skull, not pushing or pulling, just leaving his hand there as a comforting weight.  

You like sucking him off, think it's more of a comfort thing at this point because it makes you feel safe, as strange as that sounds. Knowing that you were the one making him feel like this, that you were the one prompting those little grunts and moans from his mouth. The heady scent of his coconut body wash and him are all that you can smell, all that you can focus on. You try to communicate your love for him through your mouth without speaking, wondering if he'll understand that when your tongue flicks at his tip it means I love you! I love you so much!  

He tugs at your hair slightly, a guttural moan sliding between his clenched teeth. "Good girl," he whimpers, thrusting his hips up a little. You gag as the head of his cock hits the back of your throat and tears prick at your eyes. You hold your hands behind your back and look up at him innocently, giving him the okay to fuck your mouth. He takes the opportunity greedily, lifting his hips till his cock slides down your throat and you gag again, but stay still.  

“S’good,” Harry moans throatily. “Love your mouth, peaches, so good for me.” He starts babbling, a sure sign that he’s going to cum. He tells you that he loves you about 10 times and then his hips stutter upwards, and you taste his spunk on your tongue. It’s heady and salty, not unpleasant and very him. You like the taste of him and don’t let any drop go to waste.  

“Christ,” he pants afterwards, stroking the tears that leaked out of your eyes and onto your cheeks gently with the pad of his thumb. “Love you so much.”  

“Love you too,” you reply, beaming and snuggling up next to him. “Do you feel better?”

“Yeah, darling, thank you.” 

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