Harry Styles Smut

{2} First Time

two: things get heated between Hazel and Harry, causing the truth to come out.

*IMPORTANT*
((This is from a draft of mine where the MC is called Hazel, so it's not a y/n chapter))

TW - descriptive sex scenes and vulgar language!

~•~

"Well it's just," I gulp before continuing, "I get that you've been with other girls more... pretty and skinny than me. I can see why you wouldn't find me attractive." It's almost in the blink of an eye, as if a reflex, that Harry grabs my wrist and pulls it to settle on himself. My eyes follow where my hand rests and widen at the bulge growing down the leg of his jeans. Almost as quickly, he's pushing my hand away.

His jaw clenchs as he leans down, "you have no idea what you do to me. No idea how attracted I am to you." He laughs but it's forced and I can tell he sees no humour in what he's saying. "God, Hazel, you drive me nuts."

I hadn't realised how he felt, how I truly felt, before all of this. He just stares down at me, towering over and I stare up to admire his beauty. Before I know it I'm knitting my hands into his chestnut curls and connecting our lips. Harry doesn't hesitate to grab my hips and force me closer to him, our teeth clashing and noses bumping while our feet tumble backwards to find the mattress.

I feel the soft fabric at the back of my legs and stop, sliding my hands to the front of Harry's shirt to begin unbuttoning it while he moves his kisses to my neck. He sucks and nibbles at my skin, soothing his tongue over it before moving onto another place. His ring-clad hands travel around my hips to grip my ass, while mine continue to work on getting him undressed.

Finally, the shirt is unbuttoned and Harry shrugs the material off. I sit back on the bed and begin to crawl up, admiring his perfectly toned tan chest while doing so. My eyes lingering on the swirls of ink tainting his skin, the famous moth tattoo fluttering on his sternum with every uneven breath.

I'm now nervous. Remembering that this is Harry Styles, not just my best friend Harry but the world famous boy-band member who's been with models before. People I could never dream of looking like. He's world famous and I'm just... me. Boring old Hazel.

Harry climbs up the bed to me, dipping down to capture my lips in his and beginning to slide his hand up my thigh. "Is this okay?" He questions breathlessly, pausing momentarily to gauge my response. I'm quick to nod and pull him down to continue the kiss but he won't budge. "Tell me, Hazel."

"Yes, Harry. Please... just-," that's all he need to hear because his hands then reach the button of my jeans and he's fumbling to strip them from my legs. He tosses them to the corner of the room when they're off and looks back down at me with a heart warming grin, dimples on full display.

I pull him back down, legs wrapping around his narrow waist to pull him close to me and hold him tight. Trying to tell him everything I've felt these past few months, every word I've wanted to speak but was always too afraid that he wouldn't ever want the same.

~

"Are you okay?" I must've gone somewhere in my mind for a moment because Harry was looking up at me with a frown etched onto his lips, his thumb smoothing over the skin of my hip bone. "You're tense, and you haven't said anything." His usually smooth voice was slightly strained and I notice his other hand cupping himself, stroking and gripping to ease his own tension. "You don't have to—," he went to say.

I shook my head against the pillow, still gazing down at him. "I told you I want to, and I do... want... to."

He audibly gulps and pushes up, away from me slightly as if he didn't feel right. "But you wouldn't have to, it doesn't matter what you said. You can always change your mind."