Mr. Photographer

I wanna get railed so bad while wearing one of his Styles embroidered shirts

short but explicit 🤭 ***nsfw warning

(also this isn’t set in covid times.....don’t go out for brunch, even Harry wants to rail you in the bathroom! stay home instead!!)

Harry's shirt is rumpled his hand at the small of your back, the fabric wrinkling into angry creases in his clenched fist. His thrusts are coming so hard and frantic that you have to grab onto the faucet for leverage. His eyes travel down to where your tits bounce beneath his top. Your body jolts with his every trust, his surname egging him on from the left breast. He groans at the sight, watching your flesh spill out of your bra as he fucks you sloppily in the Old Place bathroom. 

"Fucking shit,” Harry breathes, stilling his hips for a moment. His heart is slamming hard against his chest, his breath shortened and begging for a moment of rest. You gasp at the fullness as he stays buried to his hilt, his hands knotting into his own sweaty hair, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. He’s overwhelmed, trying to keep it together as the heat of your bodies begins to steam up the mirror.

But he’s taking too long and your body already misses the weight of his over yours and the keen rhythm of his hips. You whine, sliding your hands to the edge of the counter top. He moans as he slips out, one hand instinctively reaching to pull the hem on your back away so his view remains unobstructed.  

You reach between your bodies, squeezing the head of his cock and smirking over your shoulder when he moans a little too loudly. You break your soft laughter to taunt him with a quiet ‘shhh’ as you line him up again. A low hum rumbles in his chest from behind you as you found a similar tempo to before, throwing your ass back to meet the gentle flick of his pelvis that, at this point, you’re pretty sure is involuntary. 

One more sly glance to him over your shoulder and his weight is pushed over you again, one hand reaching around you spread your slick over your center to knead velvety circles over your clit. The sound of skin slapping is so loud and overwhelming that you’re positive it’s echoing down the small, empty hallway and into the private dinning room all your friends are sat in. 

“Fuck, there! Fuck!” you gasped. “Make me come.” It’s a subtle demand, one you know he'll always rise to, said breathlessly as your knees threatened to buckle. 

You surrender to that jelly feeling in your legs, landing on your elbows against the counter, relying on his arm around your middle to keep you steady. A sinful cry springs from your mouth and you feel like statics taken over your brain as he brings you to the edge. 

He mouths at your shoulder as he comes too, leaving open mouth kisses against your skin. He grabs your face gently in one of his big hands, tilting your mouth to meet his for a feverish kiss. You realize its the first and only one of your rendezvous so you press yourself closer to him. The hungry flare between you has quickly died down and the kiss turns sweet before he pulls out. 

Harry reaches over, gathering some paper towels from the dispenser and offering them to you with a peck to your cheek. As you reach between your legs to clean yourself off, his attention wanders back down to the reflection of his second name on your breast. You haven’t had the chance to adjust your bra back and its enough to make all his thoughts go back straight to his cock. For a split second, he reckons he just needs a big glass of water and, maybe, a light fondle before he’s already ready to go again. 

But the annoyed look you shoot him as you throw the wad of towels away is enough to snap him and his dick back into reality. 

“Should wear it more often,” he nods to the shirt, his fingers tugging on the line of buttons down the front. “Drives me mad.” 

Imagine you're riding Harry and when he's cums, his stomach is clenching so hard and his butterfly tattoo is just wiggling on his tummy

So let’s say Harry just got out of the shower.

He comes out with a towel wrapped around his hips, using another one to dry his hair and back. He’s rubbing it over his broad shoulders as he pads barefoot over to his cabinets, digging for a pair of briefs as he scrubs his skin dry. You’re watching from the bed, where you had been watching a rerun episode of Baby Daddy, but Harry’s much more interesting at the moment.

His back muscles flex as he reaches behind him as far as possible, trying to rid his skin of all the wetness, shoulders and arms going taut as he works the linen over his body, tattoos wiggling and stretching along with his movements.

Harry walks over to the edge of the bed, plopping down next to you and you catch a glimpse downwards, the towel around his waist shifting lower on his hips to expose the beginning of his pubes. And he knows exactly what he’s doing, the smug smirk on his ruby lips showing it off perfectly.

He leans forward on his palms, giving you a slow once-over as his hair is damp and matted to his neck, his skin smelling of Tom Ford aftershave and Dove bar soap. “D'you think you can help me dry my hair, pet?”

Keep reading

21 please

It’s a long one! Hope you like it! Happy Friday! 💓  💓  

Prompt: Do you know how hard I’m trying not to kiss you right now?” 

[17] Don’t make me answer that.

They promised each other they’d stop.

And more importantly, they promised themselves they’d stop.

Stop just this and continue the rest.  

So they’re giving it a shot now. A real one. A real go at keeping things strictly friendly like they always were, friends, mates…friends who don’t fuck each other or fool around with needy and grabby hands or hungry mouths. They’re trying.

It shouldn’t be hard because they are friends. Good ones at it too. Started off as just good friends with many things in common, friends who laugh at the same things and who did things normal friends did. It shouldn’t have been a problem to revert back to their old ways. To take out the new part where they make each other come and just do the friend bits. But as of recent they’ve forgotten or willingly forgotten what friends are, just friends are.

So their definitions are all blurry and the lines are fuzzy, smudged and crossed over.

But they promised.

But Harry’s also aching for a place to put his hands. She’s right there and he can’t touch her and his hands don’t like the new idea or the new policy. His hands have already gotten used to her, he’s gotten so used to her like this and he’s been cut off so suddenly.

She’s the one keeping him in line though. Reminding him that no they can’t try this or that position for educational purposes this time or because he wants to test something out. (They’re always testing new ideas and techniques out on each other, their curious minds mixed with their love of sex take them to interesting places.) But they promised. And no they can’t do it just once more, for the last time because he didn’t know that last time would be the last. They’re stopping now. He promised her.

It was her idea and Harry agreed just because. Well not just because but because it was her idea. She wanted to stop so of course he followed. He’d rather stop what they’re doing than not have her around at all.  

But she too is having a hard time getting used to the new rules. It’s more confusion than anything. They’ve been doing what they’ve doing for so long that they’ve forgotten about the friends part. About the things they did as just friends. About the time before this. So she doesn’t know what to with her hands or with herself either.

They’re sitting with a film in the background and they’re both confused and have no idea what to do. Actually watch the film? They don’t remember or aren’t used to this anymore. Just watching the film. Not watching it with his hand down her jeans or her bum wiggles against his crotch that drove him mad until he had to have her. He’s used to the film being forgotten in the background as he drives into her. And she’s used to only hearing her whines and his moans instead of the actual film. She’s used to the film being background noise to their own noises.

“Can we start tomorrow?” He asks.

“You said that yesterday.” She sighs.

“Why have we got to suffer?”

“M’not suffering, I like this film. You’d like it too if you’d watch it instead of watching me.”

“Would like it a whole lot better if while—”

“M’not blowing you. We have to give this our best effort.”

“Who said anything about blowing—”

“What were you going to say?”

“Never mind.” He grins.

“S’what I thought.” Does he really think she doesn’t know him by now? She might be the only one who really does.

“What if—”

“No.”

“Didn’t even hear what I was going to say!”

“Can’t lick me out either.”

“What am I allowed to do then!”

“Watch the bloody film!”

“Don’t want to.” He huffs in annoyance.

“We used to be able to do that!” She raises her voice because she’s annoyed. Annoyed at herself, him and the situation. They should have stayed the way they were. Now this is just a mess. They’re all tangled up. They can’t even watch a film!

“Yeah and then I found out you’ve got the fuckin tightest—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” She whines.

“I miss you!”

“M’right here!”

She almost wants to ask if it’s just her body that he’s missing but she knows that isn’t true and he’d feel hurt by that.

She just doesn’t want to admit that she might just miss him too and not the physical aspect of it at all. They’re different then, when they’re doing the things they’re refraining from now. A good different. He gives her all of himself and she gives him every piece of her. It feels whole. Like something real that could actually be something.

But they’re still giving this a go. At stopping. Not failing at it (yet) but struggling with it. Doing all the things they always did minus the fucking. It shouldn’t be this hard. But it is. Fucking hell it is.

It’s not that he expects this, expects a fuck out of her every time he sees her. He’s just confused and worried as to why they’ve stopped as fast as they started. That maybe he’s missed something. The part where she never wanted this. Or maybe she never liked any of it.

It’s tough now because they’re used to it and it was fun, it was a whole lot of fun.

It’s about withdrawals.

Those are the worst. That’s what’s getting them the most.

“Do you know how hard m’trying not to kiss you.” He whines.

“It isn’t going to be just that though.” She pulls the cork out from the wine bottle on the table in front of them. She’s going to need another drink for this one. “First it’s that and then it’s something more…s’the problem.” She pours a good amount into her glass. They don’t know how to stop or where to draw the line anymore because it’s been walked over so many times it’s now smudged and illegible.

“Can I at least have you on my lap? You look silly sitting all the way over there.”

They’ve always been friends and somehow one day the idea or offer was brought up and they’ve been going at it ever since. It was said as a joke at first, thrown into the universe without any expectations. But then there was a shift in his eyes and then she was actually thinking about it. And then she was under him begging for it and he was dizzy with how much he wanted to give it to her. And just like that she’s put an end to it now.

“If you try anything—”

“Wont.”

“Because I’ll give in and you know that.”

“S’hard for you too?” He asks genuinely surprised. He isn’t the only one struggling with this, she’s got a need in her too. He wouldn’t have known, she’s got a will in her and her eyes are telling him nothing.

“It’s hard.” She admits. “M’not just talking about you.” She grins refraining from pushing her bum against him to feel just how much, even though she really wants to.

“You’ve got a way of doing that love.” He grins against the back of her neck before kissing along it.

“Gosh you’re a menace, told you not to try anything.” She groans. “Put them away.” She means his lips. And when he stops, pulls away from her heated skin she’s both relieved and empty at the same time.  

“You didn’t like it?” He finally gathers to get the courage to ask. “What we were doing all the time…”

“Where’d you get that from? You have me screaming for you each time.”

“Why are we doing this then?” He’s asking because he’s genuinely curious. When she brought up stopping he agreed to it because she wanted to cool it down. He didn’t like the idea one bit but he agreed to it if meant that he could still see her. Still have her around. Still have her, with him.

He didn’t think it’d be hard because he never thought they’d come to a full stop like this. But it’s proving harder than he thought. (Well he never though it’d be easy but he also didn’t think they’d ever stop…)

“Hm?” She asks turning to him slightly from the screen.

“You just wanted us to stop but you didn’t say why. Didn’t explain anything.”

“I don’t know Harry…” She wiggles out of his grasp slightly.

“Yeah you do.” He doesn’t let her off that easily. “You wouldn’t have stopped it if you didn’t know why.”

“We’ve forgotten what friends are.”

“No we haven’t.” He argues.

“Yes we have. We used to do things.”

“We do things!”

“Other things! Not those things.” She reminds him.

“Those are still things!”

“We don’t know what we’re doing or what we are.” She admits. “When we were friends who weren’t fuckin each other we were friends who weren’t fuckin each other. Real friends. Now we’re what exactly?”

“We’re friends, always have been.”

“Know that.” She smiles. “But what are we when we’re messing around? Friends still?”

“Really good friends.” He grins.

“M’being serious.” She looks at him sternly.

“So am I.”

“Are you?” She asks.

“You’re saying we’ve got to choose.”

“At some point yes,” she leans back against him. “Doesn’t have to be now but that’s why we’re stoping whatever it was we were doing for a bit until we do.”

“I can do plenty of thinking whilst we—”

“No you can’t. You wont be thinking clearly. I wont be thinking clearly that’s why we’re stopping.”

“You’re such a mum—”

“M’being responsible!”

“You’re not telling me something!”

“I don’t want this to get messy Harry. It will if we keep going at it. And then we’ll fight, we will. I can already see it. This isn’t going to end well, it can’t possibly end well.”

“Haven’t fought once since we started.”

“We will.”

“Why stop now then? Before our big fight that m’not even sure we’ll have.” He knows he can’t argue with her. He won’t be able to. She’s got that look, those eyes that make apologizes spill from his mouth without noticing.

“Because I don’t want to fight with you whenever that’ll be. We’ve got more things to fight about if we keep going.”

“How’s that?”

She doesn’t want to say it. Or ask it. But this isn’t going to be understandable or clear if she doesn’t say any of it.

“What if it isn’t just us friends fuckin anymore?”

“Feelings and all that?” He asks.

“Feelings and all that.” She answers. “You know when you used to come home and we’d go out and walk for a bit, or just sit around for hours?”

“Yeah.”

“Now I come straight to yours or you come straight to mine and we’re both naked within minutes.” She takes another sip of her wine but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything.

“That’s not all we do!”

“Harry—”

“I miss you when m’gone.” He says. He really does miss her.

“But you’ve got friends you do nothing with.” She reminds him.

“And?”

“Who are you coming home to me as Harry?” She finally asks because she has to know.

“Don’t make me answer that.”

“M’making you.” She doesn’t let him ignore it. He will answer this one.

“Meant what I said about missing you.”

“I know.” She assures him because she does believe that.

“Not just your body or how you taste.”

“I know that.” She promises. “Still doesn’t answer my question though.”

“I don’t know how to answer it.” He admits. “We’re good, we’re really good love. Whatever this, whatever we’ve got going on. It’s good.”

“Answer the question.”

“You’re the first person I see the second I land.” He says. He knows what that means, what’s behind it but he’s not going to be the first one to say anything. “What does that say?”

“I don’t know!” She whines. “That’s why m’so confused!” And he understands it, it’s pretty understandable that she’d be confused. He is too sometimes. Doesn’t know what to call her or introduce her as. Because they might as well be a couple. They look like one, do everything like one. But they aren’t.

“Have you got feelings for me?” He asks boldly. Might as well if they’re already rolling with all of this.

“Harry—”

“I can’t ask the hard questions now?”

She stills against him, opening her mouth but closing it just as fast. He turns her, makes her face him because these types of questions need answers.

He doesn’t want her confused, he doesn’t want to be confused. He doesn’t want to wreck any of this, have her run off either.

“M’waiting.” He reminds her that he isn’t going to let this one go.

“Wait all you want.”

“Say it.” He urges her. “Say what you’re thinking. Whatever it is.”

“M’not saying anything first!” She finally looks up at him.

“Say what first?” He grins.

“You’re a real ass you know that?”

“Say it love.” He pulls her closer to him in the straddle around his hips and she’s got to nowhere to go anyway. And she doesn’t necessarily want to run from this either because this is what she’s been needing. Answers to the questions and no tangles. “Nothing bad’s gonna happen, promise. You’re still my best friend either way. Always are.”

She’s still going to be his best friend if they stop all this and go back to how they were. And she’s still going to be his best friend if they decide to try something for the first time. A real go at the thing they’ve never tried.

He’s waiting for that opportunity to say that if she wants to have at this, give this a real shot he’ll give it everything he’s got. But she hasn’t presented the narrative for that just yet.  

“I think, and m’sayin think instead of know because I don’t know what you’re thinking or if you’re thinking anything at all…so I think I love you.”

And he grins but her stomach still feels like it’s dropped to her bum and her heart beat is something to worry about. He’s still grinning though and she might be shaking but she keeps looking at him anyway.

“Well that’s a relief isn’t it? Would be fuckin painful if I didn’t love you back.”

“You’re the worst.” She groans. “Absolute fuckin wor—

She doesn’t get to complete her sentence. Tell him how awful he is, that he’s the absolute worst which he isn’t…because her lips are far too occupied with his. She told him to put them away didn’t she? But that was then, when he wasn’t the worst and she hadn’t said anything yet. Things have changed since then.

Things are changed.

I've read that harry likes it rough and that he and zayn had the most hookups w fans and they knew what they wanted

Of course 🏃🏽‍♀️ freaks and players

i’m on fire

summary: harry can’t keep his hands to himself after getting home from filming.

warnings: breeding kink, spanking, smut, slight fluff, pregnancy mention, slight dom/sub

word count: 2.7k

song inspo.: i’m on fire - bruce springsteen, girls on film - duran duran, tango in the night - fleetwood mac

Keep reading

Remember….when…..Jack Whitehall said that Harry’s penis should get a ‘Pride Of Britain’ award…

and then proceeded to say that Harry’s the greatest swordsman Britian’s produced…. 

Busiest I've ever been

Girls will say they busy and be in their bed relaxin or sleep

Fic Rec List

Hades Harry & Demon Harry

AU Pt. 1

AU Pt. 2

POC Reader, Plus Size Reader & Famous Reader

Series

Sub Harry, Breeding Kink & Anal

Older Harry & Inexperienced Reader

Weddings, Proposals & Honeymoons

Angst, Angst to Fluff & Cheating

Fratboy Harry, Boxer Harry & CEO Harry

Dom/Daddy Harry & Subspace Reader

Dad (& To Be) Harry & Single Parent

Fluff & Smut

Friends To Lovers

Smut

Angst To Fluff

Fluff

via

These are quite devastating