How??? Can you call yourself a fan??? When you attack everything they do???

Who cares about their hair? Who cares what they wear? If you’re willing to attack them based on aesthetics then you’re not a fan. You’re vain and shallow.

Be there for their art and their personalities. Because, ya know, they’re real people. Not your Barbie doll.

But It’s Your Skin

Mentions: fluff, minor smut

Harry is dating plus sized model Y/N, and when they go out to dinner, a couple words from a jealous fan aren’t going to make Y/N insecure.

Originally posted by thecallofthewind

A small yelp escapes Y/N’s lips as the the lace of her panties snaps against her bum softly, seeing her cheeky boyfriend smirking at her through the mirror she was stood in front of.

“Hey!” She says, spinning around to shove Harry lightly. He catches her wrists through, a smirk on his lips as he pulls her body against his.

“What? You were standing around in those pretty little panties for sometime, I couldn’t help it,” He teases, large hand splayed over her bare lower back to keep her pressed to him.

She pouts, “That hurt.”

“Awe,” He coos, then biting his bottom lip some, “I’ve done worse to y’bum, lovie, you know it.”

She blushes, hands sliding up his chest, “Well, we don’t have any time for that right now, do we, H?”

He hums, sliding his hand up to cup her face, other hand gripping her ass cheek. “No time at all? Even to just spread y’pretty thighs f’me and get a quick taste?”

Y/N shivers some, thighs clenching as her core throbs at his words. He had leant his head down some, their lips lingering on each other’s, and she pressed her lips to his in a firm kiss, inhaling deeply as their lips meet.

She leads him back slowly until the back of his knees hit the bed, making him sit down. Harry promptly pulls her along with him, her knees slotting on either side of his hips and her lace covered center hovering right above the growing bulge in his dress pants.

Harry groans lowly, feeling her hand reach down to apply pressure to his hardening cock, rubbing over his pants slowly with her palm.

“Gonna be late to our dinner, lovie,” He breathes, lips sensually moving with hers, his hands gripping her full hips, fingers digging into the soft skin to rock her hips against his.

She pulls away, now smirking as she climbs from his lap, “Why would we be? It’ll only take me a couple seconds to put on my dress, silly.”

Harry’s jaw is slackened, brows furrowed and eyes watching Y/N nonchalantly pluck her dress from their closet and then walk to the bathroom, hips swaying and thick thighs rubbing against each other in a way that makes Harry groan out once again.

“Y/N,” He whines, standing and trudging over to the bathroom, seeing her sliding the dress over her curves. He wants to pull it right back off and dig his fingers into those crevices, have her bent over for teasing him like that.

She just hums, pulling her hair up and turning so her back faces him, “Zip me?”

“Rather fuck you,” Harry grumbles, but taking the zipper and sliding it up so the dress fits snug on her body.

Y/N shrugs, moving to walk past him out the bathroom, “Dont start what you can’t finish, bubby.”

Harry growls, catching her and pressing her to the bathroom door, “Oh, you know I always keep my promises, baby honey.”

Y/N’s eyes gleam innocently up into his darkened ones, “Do you? What’s the promise this time?”

Harry hums lowly, ducking his head into her neck to nibble at her skin some, “I was thinking 4 orgasms, and if you’re lucky, one of them could be on m’cock.”

Now that sounds like a deal if Y/N’s ever heard one.

“How about two of them?”

“Oh, sure you can handle that, baby honey?” He teases, bringing his face level with hers again, so close she can feel his hot minty breath on her lips.

“Are you sure you can handle that?” She shoots back, eyes meeting his firmly.

Harry’s trousers are so tight he thinks they might rip, cock throbbing and pressed tight to the poor fabric as all he can think of is shoving her dress up to her pretty hips and giving her a proper fuck to ensure she never teases him again.

But she’s just smirking at him, then kissing his lips softly, “C’mon, now we’ll really be late to the dinner.”


Harry is fidgety the entire time. Him, Y/N, and his band were sat around a nice booth in the back of a dimmed restaurant, everyone chatting nicely.

But Harry can only think of Y/N’s hand on his thigh. She drives him absolutely mad, every single thing she does.

When they’d first met, she was kind of new to the modeling world, but just as confident as she is now. She was one of the first plus sized models to really get media attention, and the two had met during one of her fashion shows where Harry was performing.

He’d almost forgotten his lyrics as he caught sight of her, adorned in a soft pink baby doll slip on and lacey panties, the sound of her pretty white heels drowned by the music and cheering audience. She was absolutely stunning.

People thought it a bit odd when they’d first started dating, even though Harry had a past with dating models. Though, those were Victoria Secret models who were sizes 0-2.

This was Y/N Y/L/N, a plus sized model with a rounded face and big hips, a tummy, and thick thighs. But Harry was unquestionably in love with every single inch of her.

Her gleaming eyes and lips that were always a deep pink shade, especially after an eventful night between the two, and how his large hands could grip the extra meat on her hips as they were walking, dancing, and especially as they were making love.

With her little teasing session earlier, that’s all he could think of right now: her little whimpers and moans as she took his cock, her hips bucking against his, her face contorting in pleasure as he would grip the headboard to pound inside her even harder, take her just how he knew she liked it.

“Harry,” Her voice snaps him from his thought, along with a gentle squeeze to his knee.

He blinks, clearing his throat as he looks up from his plate, “Yeah, what’s happening?”

Y/M nods outside the booth, where two people are stood, a woman and a man, both early 20’s by the looks of them.

Harry smiles kindly, “Can we help you?”

“We hate to interrupt, but can we get a picture?” The man asks, and Harry really hates how his eyes scan Y/N beside him.

Y/N smiles, though, unaware, “Sure! I can take it!”

“Oh, well, Lilian here wants a photo with Harry, but can I get a picture with you?” He rephrases.

Harry just about throws the table, but controls himself. Y/N agrees, much to Harry’s disliking, and he finds himself sliding out of the booth with her behind him.

He looks to the man still eyeing Harry’s girl, and he grasps her hand, turning to her, “Can you take the photo f’me, lovie, and I’ll take yours?”

Y/N nods, smiling up at Harry. The curly haired singer takes that chance to lean down and press his lips to her in a sweet kiss, letting them press together for a couple seconds before parting, making sure it’s clear whose is whose.

Y/N snaps the photo of Harry and the Lilian woman, not loving how her arm is wrapped so low around his hips, her head resting on his chest. But she keeps quiet, taking the photo and handing Lilian’s phone back with nothing but a kind smile.

Then, Harry takes the man’s phone, watching as he wraps his arm around Y/N’s waist, fingers holding to her curves a bit too tightly for Harry’s liking, and Y/N seems to notice also, only manageing a small smile before quickly stepping away from the man right as the photo’s taken.

As the man retrieved his phone from Harry, Lilian steps over to Y/N, mumbling lowly, “You think Harry really wants to date a fatty like you?”

Y/N freezes some, not expecting that.

Wow, she really wasn’t expecting that. And she doesn’t like how much the simple words affect her.

But after a year of dating Harry, she knows he loves her. Unless the countless time they’ve had sex and how he’d mumble on and on about how beautiful she was was completely made up, then Y/N has nothing to worry about.

So, with a small hum, Y/N nods to the girl, “Yeah, I really think he does.”

“C’mon, Lilian,” The man she was accompanied with walks over, “Thanks again, guys.”

Y/N puts on a fake smile, and as the two slowly walk back to their table, Lilian can’t help but glance over, allowing Y/N to take her perfect shot.

Walking over to her man, she cups his face, other hand sliding under his jacket onto his waist, Harry looking down at her with a small smirk.

They don’t need words, knowing each other enough to understand as their lips meet in a passionate kiss, Harry’s hand sliding to her back to press her body to his. Their lips move together slowly, closing around one another’s in rhythm, only parting once they desperately need air.

“Hm, just felt like I needed it,” Y/N hums, pecking his lips a few times.

Harry smirks, “Glad we feel the same way.”