one direction typo

anonymous asked:

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 rubs 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?”

And you nod immediately, taking the already damp towel from his hands and trying your best not to shiver at his warm touch. He settles himself out on the bed between your legs, laying back against your stomach as you shake out his hair with the linen, going through his phone nonchalantly. When you finish, he flips around onto his stomach, crawling upwards until his face is right below yours, chin propped on your upper chest.

Harry quirks the corners of his mouth. “Thanks.”

You just nod, gulping quietly.

And then his hands are coasting up under your legs, squeezing the back of your thighs temptingly and he just comes out and says it right away, blatant and slightly arrogant, matching the dark, mossy green gaze he’s gifting you. “Wanna fuck?”

He doesn’t have to ask twice. It all happens fast. He flips himself onto his back, scooting up against the headboard and pulling you over to straddle him. He undoes the knot on the towel around his hips, chucking it towards the end of the bed carelessly as he tugs the tie of your sweatpants loose.

Soon enough he’s panting into your mouth, biting down on your lower lip as your thighs slap down against his. Your hands are tangled in his damp curls and you move to kiss down his jaw and bite at the slope of his neck, his Adam’s Apple bobbing thickly, brows furrowing in pleasure.

Harry throws his head back against he wooden surface of the backboard, gasping out softly as he feels you squeezing him, his teeth worrying his plump lips as a smile carves his dimples into existence. He chuckles in amusement, the sound stuttering do to how hard you’re going at him. “Such a tight little cunt, Y/N. Fuckin’ ruining me, darling.”

You don’t say much, too busy with concentrating on getting him off along with getting yourself off as well, so you just hum in agreement, breathing warm and gooey against his pulse.

His huge hands are cupping and massaging your ass as you sink over him, a hard smack hitting you every now and then. “Perky as a peach, aren’t you?”

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into your chest so that his mouth is pressed against your throat, tongue and teeth rawing the skin as you swivel your hips in tight circles, feeling him pressing deep in your stomach.

Harry’s having a ball, grinning against your skin and letting out tiny whines and gentle whimpers with every swing of your hips, encouraging you to keep going. His arms snake securely around your waist, keeping you down on him as his hips begin to buck up into you. His words are sticky and hot on the sensitive flesh of your jugular. “Such a sweet girl f'me, yeah? Taking m'cock so deep and loving it. Proper Daddy’s girl, y'are…”

And when he comes, it’s messy. The warm shower had managed to rid him of most of his stress, allowing his body to uncoil from tension, which in turn allows his release to flow easier. He spurts out thick and hot inside you, groaning wetly into the little dip between your neck and shoulder, his shoulders shuddering and thighs clenching.

You pull back a bit, looking down at him as his climax thunders over his entire body. Harry’s chest is heaving heavily and his tummy is tightening exceptionally hard, the butterfly tattoo spreading its wings and contracting as he gulps for air, the whole image quivering to life as he himself quakes in pleasure. “God, you’re so fucking good to me.”

Once everything has washed out of his system, he goes limp against the headboard.

Harry’s knuckles drift over your outer thighs softly as he lays there with his head tilted to the side, a wispy, satisfied smile tickling the edges of his mouth, wet hair sticking to the sides of his neck and across his sweaty jaw.

His tired eyes shimmer with fondness over you, loving how you’d taken him so suddenly without question. “You’re a right gift, y'know that? Dunno what I’d do without you.”

“You’re hand would probably be more sore.”

Harry releases a fit of giggles, shaking his head at you gently, grabbing your hips and pressing you into the mattress. “And you wouldn’t have anyone to eat you out into oblivion.”

“‘Oblivion’ is a big word. ’M proud of you, Har.”

He flashes you a lopsided grin, ducking down to press suckling kisses at the mouth of your stomach, gazing up at you through his thick lashes as he gives his eyebrows a suggestive quirk. “Well, ’m a big boy, sweetheart.”