Harry Hart Imagine - Tumblr Posts

Dating Harry Hart as a younger woman would include...

Requested by @aprettysupernaturalwolf

Fellow recruits your age were relentless when it came to flirting with you. Being top of the class as a strong and independent woman left quite an impression on most, including Agent Galahad. 

Harry was kind to you, as kind as he was to any other potential recruits during training. It wasn’t until you were instated as Agent Gareth that he began showing you any preferential treatment.

His version of ‘flirting’ was much different than the short hand and vulgar advances you’d had from men your age in the past. Harry started by bringing you coffee each morning, customized exactly the way you liked it from a cafe that you later learned to be in the complete opposite direction of his home. He didn’t mind, though. The smile you shot him after taking the first sip was completely worth it.

Merlin would often catch you and Agent Galahad sharing long and meaningful looks during debriefing. The way he made eye contact with you was much more intimate than with anyone else, he was cherishing you the best way he could without stepping over a line.

Your first “date” was actually your idea. After a particularly exhausting day, you’d opted for going for a long walk instead of headed home once work was over. Harry, being the gentleman he is, refused to let you walk alone at night. Even though you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, the two of you wandered arm-in-arm for almost two hours before he walked you home. “We should do this again sometime,” was all it took for Harry to ask you to dinner the next day.

It took three dinner dates for Harry to lean in and kiss you goodnight after walking you to your door. He meant for the kiss to be short and sweet, but after so many lingering touches and sweet smiles you couldn’t stand for a small peck. You ended up making out for twenty minutes against your front door until he’d reluctantly pulled away.

Harry wasn’t crazy about PDA. You wouldn’t hold hands while walking down the street, but a warm hand at the small of your back was all you needed to feel secure and loved.

The first time he ever made love to you was after nearly a month and a half of dating. You had gone through more AAA batteries in the last month and a half than you had in your entire adult life. Once you had finally given into temptation, he’d murmured to you that he was worried about not being enough for you. Turns out - he’d teach you a thing or two. 

And on the topic of making love? He outright refused to ever refer to lovemaking as sex. “One does not use a vulgar reference to the act of intimacy with one’s lover, Y/N.”

Let me tell you... some of your "love making” is anything from the slow and passionate type pictured. The two of you absolutely destroyed his antique mahogany bed frame and had a wonderful time doing it.

You are 100% responsible for introducing him to Netflix. One of your favorite ways of unwinding with him was snuggling together on the sofa and binging a tv show or movie marathon. No one questioned how or why he had become familiar with the term “Netflix and chill” before everyone else.

Feel free to send me some headcanon requests and/or smutty ones to break up the fluff storm coming your way! I’m currently not taking requests for the Statesman until I see the movie again, but the rest are fair game! 

Sex Making Love With Harry Hart Would Include...

Requested by Anonymous. ( gif credit. )

Obviously, this is very NSFW. Do not read if you are underage.

As previously stated, Harry refuses to refer to love making as sex. He finds the term much too vulgar and impersonal. 

What surprised you the most was how nervous he was the first time you saw each other naked. He had long ago surpassed the age of a ripped physique and a six pack - you could see his uncertainty on his face.

“I’m not perfect either, Harry.” 

He fell in love with you all over again at that.

You never look at him the same after the first time he goes down on you. He’s always seemed so professional and put together at work, but you’ll never forget the obscene moans and curses he utters against your folds while he brings you to another orgasm.

Damn, is that man amazing at eating you out. 

You practically have to beg Harry to let you give him head. It’s no surprise that he’s much more of a giver than a receiver, but he changed his tune the second he felt you kitten licking the tip of his cock.

He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands at first, scrubbing his face with an open palm and feebly cupping your jaw. But by the time you’d worked him to the edge, he was guiding your mouth with a tight grip on your hair.

“Darling... darling, I’m about to - !”

( That was the night the two of you broke his bed frame. )

During one of your hardcore undercover missions, tempers flared when your target got a little too hands-y for Harry’s liking. When you’d snuck into the ladies room to “powder your nose”, your boyfriend invited himself in shortly after you. The jealous Kingsman fucked you hard on the bathroom sink, panting in your ear about how you were his and his alone.

Your favourite position with Harry is missionary, because it’s just as flexible as you two are. I mean... think about it.

Sometimes you’re pressed together from head to toe, the love of your life moving slowly against you as he whispers how much he loves you. 

And sometimes your legs are hoisted over his shoulders while he fucks you into the mattress. You always wake up the next day after that with dozens of little hickies across your breasts. 

You can honestly say you’ve never had to fake an orgasm. In fact - you’ve faked not having one, just so Harry wouldn’t stop. 

( Turns out... he knew the entire time. )

You may or may not have accidentally made a sex tape once. The high of a successful mission had gotten to you both, making love atop his desk at the shop. The only problem? Harry forgot to turn off the feed on his glasses. 

Merlin couldn’t look you in the eye for a month after that.

The next time you two used a camera in the bedroom? ... Well, let’s just say it was intentional. And served a great purpose for being apart from each other for too long.

After a long night of love making, you and Harry always cook breakfast together. Even with your hair sticking up in all directions and your makeup smeared from the night before, he thanks his lucky stars every day for having you in his life.

Bonus:

Younger

Requested by Anonymous:  Can you pretty please do a harry imagine where he and reader go out, and people make him feel insecure about the age gap?  (gif credit.) Pairing: Harry Hart x female Reader Word Count: 1.3k  A/N: I hope you don’t mind the direction I took this request in! I wanted to stay true to Harry’s personality as best I could. Big thanks to @fishofmordor for helping me with this! 

It turns out a relaxing date night is hard to come by when both you and your boyfriend are spies.

Over your time as an Agent you’d learned to appreciate the little things – like taking a walk arm in arm with your boyfriend over your lunch break. Harry had just gotten back from a three day mission, and the last thing he had wanted to do was pretend to listen to Arthur’s mission debrief instead of catching up with the woman he loved.

“Have I mentioned that I missed you?” Harry asked for the third time in fifteen minutes, glancing sidelong only to be met with an equally zealous smile from you. You were seconds away from stretching on your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek when the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps put you both into overdrive.

The nod Harry gave you was subtle enough to tell you that he heard someone behind you too, tightening his grip on his umbrella as you used the reflection in a shop window to get a better view. You’d prepared to see a giant thug with some unseemly weapon in his hand, but what you saw gave you pause.

“Harry…” you began, a small boy with wide eyes and red cheeks running up to the two of you.

“Grandpa! Grandpa…” the boy began, raising a hand to tug on the back of Harry’s pant leg. When Harry turned to face the small lad, you could see further tears cloud his eyes at the recognition of a complete stranger instead of his Grandfather. “I- I’m sorry, mister. I thought… you were…”

Nine times out of ten, Harry Hart was absolutely wonderful with children. Little Daisy could hardly get enough of him, neither could your nieces and nephews. But for some reason his face remained in the impassive and slightly shocked state, leaving you to be the one to kneel down to be on the boy’s level.

“It’s all right!  My name is Y/N, and this is my friend Harry. What’s your name?” You kept your voice light and airy, doing your best not to spook the obviously terrified boy. “My mum says I’m not supposed to talk to strangers…” he mumbled, little brow furrowed with worry. You could hardly blame the boy’s Mother – if you had children, they’d have cameras and GPS built into their clothing just in case. It was London, after all.

“That’s okay! You’re being very brave right now. Would you like to borrow my cellphone and call your Grandpa or Mummy?”  The boy spared a glance back towards Harry, who just now seemed to be coming around. “Y/N is right, you’re a good lad. Do you remember their phone numbers?”

The encouragement from the older man must have comforted him somehow, focusing his eyes on your faces instead of scanning the surroundings desperately. “I don’t know ‘em… Mum says I’m too little for a phone.” Instinctively you wanted to gather the small boy in your arms to comfort him, the maternal side of you making your heart clench. With the boy’s sniffling increasing in frequency, you knew the dam was about to burst any second as he shook his head.

“It’s gonna be okay, love. Why don’t the three of us head back to the spot where you last saw your Grandpa, yeah? We’ll stay with you until you find him.” You’d planned to offer to take his hand while you walked, but instead the boy surged forward and wrapped his little arms around your neck. One of these days you’d have to thank your brother and sister for having so many kids, nightmares in babysitting had given you the skillset to help this lost child. “It’s okay… everything’s gonna be okay. Where were you and Grandpa last?” You asked him, the boy peeling his face away from your shoulder long enough to point in the direction he’d come from.

Together the three of you walked almost all the way back to the shop, Harry just a step behind you two as he watched the boy look around happily from his new spot in your arms. The age gap between the two of you was something he had gladly taken into stride when he’d fallen in love with you – a woman wise beyond your years, who somehow still managed to laugh at his jokes and make him feel twenty years younger. But if things continued at this pace, one day the two of you would marry and start a family of your own. The sight in front of him could very well be in his foreseeable future, you holding a child of your own and just as happy as you seemed to be now. Having a family would be a blessing… until the inevitable time in which his health would decline, and Harry Hart would leave behind both his children and a young widow.

Both you and Harry caught sight of the middle-aged man in a suit remarkably similar to Harry’s before the young boy did. The man was pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, glancing at his phone every few seconds until he looked up. “GREGORY!” The boy – Gregory – squirmed in your arms to be let down, his feet moving before they even hit the sidewalk as he sprinted towards his Grandpa. You watched with a fond smile on your face as the man checked over his grandson, picking the boy up before closing the distance between you.

“Thank you so much for finding him! I’d just turned my back for a second…” Gregory peered at you with a guilty look on his face, obviously in for a talking to when he got home. “It’s okay, I understand. He was a very brave boy.” Gregory and his Grandfather thanked you profusely before headed back to their car, the little boy waving goodbye. “Bye-bye Miss Y/N! Bye-bye Mister Harry!”  You couldn’t help but blow him a kiss when they drove past, giving Her Majesty some competition by waving goodbye once again.

“You were good with Gregory, darling.” Harry told you softly, making it a point to check his watch for the time instead of keeping his gaze on you. You’d been together long enough for you to recognize when something was bothering him, wrapping both your arms around his narrow waist and resting your chin on his chest.

“Harry…” you prompted, determined not to move from this spot until he told you what was wrong. Your beloved recognized he had been backed into a corner, dropping his arm only to wrap you in a tight hug. “You were really good with him, Y/N. Just as phenomenal as you are with your family. I just don’t want to miss any of those moments with our family one day because I’ll be too fucking old.”

The words ‘our family’ from Harry’s lips made you flush from head to toe, heart clenching in fondness for the second time in as many minutes. He was very rarely insecure about your relationship or himself, standing on your tip toes to kiss his cheek before you spoke. “You won’t miss anything, Harry. You dedicate your heart and soul into everything you do, and you’ll do the same with your children.”

You untangle your arms to cup his face in your hands, smoothing your thumbs over his cheeks until the corner of his mouth turns up slightly.  “Besides… how old is our dear friend Sir Elton John?” You prompted, Harry’s grin turning into a happy smile that only you ever saw. “He’s seventy years old, and he has two kids under the age of 10. If that knight can do it, so can mine.”

The intensity of the kiss he gives you almost makes you stagger, his arms tightening around you to keep you close. Harry hardly ever kissed you full on the mouth in public, much preferring to save displays of affection for behind closed doors. Any qualms were set aside temporarily as his lips moved against yours until you felt like you could melt in his embrace.

“I can’t wait to start a family with you.” He murmured to you lowly, forehead pressed against yours as you fought to catch your breath. “I’m counting on it, Harry Hart.”

Tell Me More

Requested by Anonymous: Harry Hart x reader domestic/married happiness in which their pillow talk is constructed entirely of Harry talking about butterflies to his s/o. Pairing: Harry Hart x Reader Warnings: A few NSFW references, but no direct smut. This also includes several personal headcanons of mine, I took some creative liberty for the sake of the story. A/N: First of all, I just want to apologize for how long it’s been since I’ve posted any original content. It’s been a rough 3 months for me, and with any luck things will get better. But for now - I hope you enjoy my catching up on requests. This is also my first attempt at making written requests gender neutral unless otherwise specified.  ☕

Even to this day you could vividly remember the first time you stepped inside the home of Harry Hart.

There had been no doubt in your mind you’d met a man you could potentially marry one day, a perfect gentleman comfortable in his own skin and still completely capable of fucking your brains out. There was no way he could be good looking, polite and well hung without having one bizarre quirk.

You had braced yourself for opening the door to a dozen cats, or perhaps tacky wallpaper and a shrine dedicated to his Mother. Instead you found your future husband’s quirk beyond the occasional odd paintings of beagles and classic imagery, displayed proudly in hundreds of display boxes on the walls.

“…. Butterflies?” you’d gawked, stepping closer to the glass to examine the contents. You had never seen so many butterflies in one place before, all perfectly preserved and displayed proudly with great care. It didn’t take you long to realize that collecting butterflies was something your boyfriend was very passionate about.

“It’s called lepidopterology,” Harry told you quietly, his reflection in the glass drew closer towards you. “If I hadn’t become an Agent, this very well may have been my profession.” You felt his hands rest gently on your sides, guiding you slowly to survey the rest of his collection in the den.

“I started collecting them when I was a boy. When my Grandfather passed away, I found a display case with a single butterfly inside.” Harry reached around your frame to point to a vaguely familiar butterfly, something you’d often seen on clothing or your great aunt’s wallpaper. “Danus… plexippus?” You tried, squinting to try and read the hen scratch tacked beneath the creature’s wings. “The monarch butterfly, very good.” Harry praised, leaving a soft kiss on the crown of your head. “He may have had abysmal handwriting, but I do have my Grandfather to thank for piquing my curiosity.”

He had trailed off then, lost in a train of thought that brought a twinkle to his eye that you’d never seen before. It was there in his arms you’d realized that you wanted to be more than a part of Harry’s hobby… you wanted to be a part of his life.  You really had met the perfect man – and there was no way in hell you’d let him go.

“Can you tell me more about one?” You’d asked, peering at the man curiously. This became a tradition you had unwittingly created, asking Harry to tell you more about his butterflies almost every day for the next decade.

“ – Darling? Darling, are you with me?” The stroke of Harry’s thumb against your cheek brought you back to reality, gaze focusing on the man tucked next to you with a fond look in his eyes. Without his glasses on you had an unobstructed view of the way Harry’s pupils slowly restricted as he relaxed into his side of the mattress. You shot your husband a bashful smile of acknowledgement, abandoning your pillow in favor of Harry’s chest.  

You laid tangled together naked for the next few minutes, catching your breath and exchanging soft kisses. Sex with Harry was always satisfying, your body sated but your mind was still alert. There was only one way to lull both of you into a comfortable sleep after a session of love making, turning your gaze to meet the expectant gaze of your husband.

“Can you tell me more about one?”