#you have her clenchin thighs-- GODDAMN

[merchantofwhispers]

I have many fantasies about you, Mina. Many during which I dominate you. You may be stronger than I am, but you don't let it show when you allow me to pin you down and fuck you mercilessly from behind. I will bring you to your edge time and time again, until your body is a quivering mess and your mind so blank and all you can beg for is your release. And of course I grant you that. I'm not a cruel man. Not in this regard anyway. I'll let you come so mind-numbingly hard, you'll never be able to forget about me. When I fuck you, you moan my name. When you cum, you scream it. And the hours, days, weeks after, it keeps popping up in your thoughts and dreams.. You want me. 

But there's also another fantasy I have. A fantasy where you control me. Where you own me. You keep me for your pleasure, like a little toy you can unpack when you're in the mood. And you remind me thoroughly that I am to do as you wish, whenever, wherever. If I do well, I'm a good boy and you reward me. If not, you take great pleasure in humiliating me. Or maybe that's a reward in itself..

"Oh, I like you.."

"It's been a long time since I've had a little pet of my own, especially one so-... Confident. I'd like to hear more.."

[songbirdstyles]

rug burn.

summary: you and harry can’t keep your hands to yourselves in your childhood bedroom.

warnings: smut with absolutely no plot

word count: 2.1k

You’re not sure what makes this so erotic to you. Besides the obvious one - Harry, balls deep in your cunt, hand firm around your throat to stop your head from slamming into the headboard - maybe it’s simply the thrill of knowing your mum is just down the hall. Surely, she’s fast asleep with the three glasses of wine she’d nursed throughout dinner coursing through her veins but she has always been a light sleeper, and the way your bed is beginning to bang into the walls of your childhood bedroom is beginning to make you nervous.

“Jesus -” Harry’s a mess, hovering above you. Your legs are around his waist but his grip is beginning to loosen on your thigh, holding it to his torso. When his forehead drops down onto yours you can feel how sweaty he is, even if you can’t see it - the only light from your room comes from your Little Mermaid night light, plugged in beside your bed - and his breathing is nearly heavier than the sound of his hips hitting yours. “Need y’to shut up, baby - bein’ so loud, y’mum’s gonna hear us.”

You know you’re being loud, of course. Harry had delegated your fingers to your clit, pressing them to the sensitive nub until you began rubbing small circles into it, and there’s no possible way you can hold back your soft whimpers. And it is sort of difficult to stop the desperate moans from rising in your throat as his hips slam into yours, short, sharp thrusts briefly transforming to long ones that leave you needy for more.

You’d positively die if your mother walked in on you. Maybe that’s what sends a new rush of arousal straight to your core, making Harry’s thrusts even easier than before.

“Sorry -” but even your voice is just a decibel too loud, and his eyes widen as he stares down at you. The hand that isn’t at your clit rises to cover your mouth, muffling your soft murmurs as you breathe, “Feels so good, Har. Please - just go harder, please.”

His breathing is rattled as he sucks it in, the inhalation cool against your sweaty face. His grip around your neck tightens just so, limiting your airflow so that the stars beginning to dance in front of your vision grow in size. You can tell his intention with your throat has gone to making you shut the hell up instead of stopping the bed from hitting the wall because it’s begun to do just that - the posts of your canopy bed beginning to slam against the wall. “Can’t go harder, not unless you’re quiet.” The smugness in Harry’s tone rings louder than any of your breathy moans and you would roll your eyes if he wasn’t making you feel so damn good. ���G’na be quiet for me, so I can make y’feel so good?”

“Yes,” you promise, hardly audible against your clammy palm at your mouth. “But - the bed, Har. Bed’s gonna hit the wall.”

It’s a wonder he managed to understand a lick of what you’d said, between your broken gasps between syllables and muffled words that reek of desperation to be silent, but he does seem to get it. His grip around your throat loosens as his hips begin to slow, giving you long, soulful thrusts that have you pushing your hips forward for more. Slowly you move your palm off of your mouth and press it to the bed, wiping off the sweat and spit from your hand onto your childhood sheets.

“You’re right,” Harry groans, shifting his lips down to press a kiss to yours. It’s wet and sloppy, and your teeth clash against each other as he lets your leg drop back onto the bed. Your muscles burn with the relief of not being hiked up and you could nearly moan at that feeling, as his hips falter until he’s stopped moving completely, and it nearly makes you cry out. “How can I fuck m’sweet girl, jus’ as hard as she wants me, without anyone hearing.”

Truthfully, an answer isn’t coming to your mind. You get too loud when you ride him and there’s no way you’re settling for anything other than the hard, dirty pace you’re aching for. But you can practically sense the gears turning in his head, and before you can question what he means, he’s pulling out of you - just slowly enough that you don’t whine out. 

“What?” You whisper, pushing yourself onto your elbows. The pressure of Harry’s body above yours disappears as you hear him shuffling, shifting off the bed with just the softest creak of the mattress. “Har, where are you -”

Your question never reaches its conclusion as you feel a firm grasp on your ankles, Harry’s digits wrapping around them to begin to pull you off the bed. You gasp quietly, “What’re you doing?” but he doesn’t reply - merely shakes his head, curls flopping against his face in the soft illumination of your night light, and continues to tug you, and you shift yourself off of the bed, plopping on the ground. The rug beneath you is firm and itchy and you can already feel your ass growing sore, but you don’t give yourself time to focus on it.

Harry’s already pushing himself back up to his knees, rifling through the mess of sheets and strewn clothes on your bed. “Need t’make sure you’re quiet,” he murmurs, sitting back on his knees, fist firmly shut around something that you can’t quite see. “Gonna have t’shut you up.”

When he opens his fist you squint down at the scrap of fabric, sitting in his palm - as you’d slightly expected, it’s the pair of bright red panties you’d been donning earlier. You can smell the scent of your arousal, laced on the fabric, and your eyes flicker up to Harry’s with just a hint of confusion.

“What ..?”

But you don’t get time to finish the question - the second your mouth opens, he’s shoving your panties in your mouth. You can taste your arousal as well as smell it, opening your mouth wider to accept the fabric. It gags you just as well as Harry had hoped and you can see the cockiness in his eyes - the glint of joy, seeing you rendered physically speechless - before he’s pushing you against the ground, back scraping uncomfortably against the carpet, but you find you don’t exactly hate the feeling.

“Think y’can be quiet for me, now?” Harry whispers, lowering his body back overtop of yours. One of his hands instinctively drags up your chest, pauses to fondle your tits for just a second - rolls one of your nipples between his fingers, grinning at the way you shiver - before landing on your neck. He squeezes your throat once for good measure, and the sound of your gasps hitching in your throat is like music to his ears. “Guess y’have t’be, don’t you.”

It’s not a question you were meant to answer but Harry doesn’t allow you a window to. You push yourself to your elbows, squinting through the faint darkness as your boyfriend grabs your calf, hoisting your left leg first over his shoulder. The ache of your muscles hurts in a way that’s so goddamn good and you want to sob out at the feeling, especially as he reaches back down and pulls your right one up with it. You’re so exposed to him and perhaps this is the moment where you should feel a bit of shame, having your legs thrown over his shoulders with his hand around your neck in your childhood bedroom but you can’t bring yourself to.

It feels too good. And with the way Harry squeezes your neck firmly as he sinks into you, other arm hooked firmly around your left leg to keep it up - well, your mind nearly immediately explodes into overdrive and you couldn’t possibly begin to think about anything other than this.

Jesus, you want to moan, and you squeeze your eyes shut out of habit. Your panties in between your teeth are as good for keeping you silent as Harry seemed to have hoped, but they’re not doing much to keep his noises down. His low grunt as he bottoms out, how he hisses when you hook your ankles around his neck - God, he’s a hypocrite, isn’t he? And when you’re not in this position, you’ll rub it in his face.

“Rub y’little clit f’me, baby,” Harry mumbles, breathing laboured as he pulls out of you before pushing back in, the faint sound of your wetness ringing out in your room. “C’mon, baby. Need t’rub it - yeah, s’a good girl.”

Shaky fingers slide down to where your bodies are connected, nearly choking on your panties as it muffles your desperate moan. The first two circles of your digits on your clit makes you feel like you could cum on the bloody spot, your back arching up from its spot on the scratchy carpet, legs burning from the stretch of resting over Harry’s shoulders. It’s all so overwhelming and all you want to do is scream out - you can already feel your walls fluttering around his cock and you know you’re not going to last too long. Not with him, rolling his hips into yours so hard you can’t even hear his small whispers of encouragement, how he turns his head to the side to press an opened mouth kiss to your calf - and you’re not sure how well your arousal soaked knickers will hide your telltale cry as you cum.

“God, you’re so tight f’me,” Harry groans, just a tad too loud, but it’s still too quiet to be heard over the sound of skin slapping skin. You toss your head back against the ground, eyes rolling back into your head and you can feel your body fucking spasming with the waves of pleasure that roll through you. You’re so close you can taste it but you know he isn’t there yet - and you know that you’re not done until he is. “G’na cum around m’cock, hmm? Yeah, y’are - can feel it. Can feel y’little cunt clenchin’ around me. Why don’t you pinch y’clit for me, there? Like when I do that, don’t you?”

Two digits circle your clit, drenched in your arousal and so sensitive that just your fingernail brushing the sensitive nub has your hips jerking up into Harry’s. The motion pushes him even deeper inside you than you thought he could go and you can tell he feels it too - his mouth drops open, eyes rolling back, and you barely have time to reach up and slap your hand over his mouth to stop his throaty groan from piercing the air.

You can feel Harry’s lips, puckering to press kisses to your palm slapped over his mouth, as you finally give your clit the pinch he’d told you to - and, God, it gets just the effect it always does. Your skin erupts in shivers and you can’t help clenching around him, pulling your hand off of his mouth to slap against the rug. Nails dig into the material as your hips buck up to his again, feeling the ball of pressure in the pit of your stomach finally coming undone, and the rush of your first orgasm flows through you.

“Fuck, yes,” Harry grunts, head flopping forward as your walls clench and unclech around his cock. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, cummin’ around m’cock like tha’ - shh!” Your whines have started to work through the panties in your mouth and his hand rises from your neck, pressing, instead, against your mouth and holding the drenched underwear where they belong. He gets so bloody arrogant about this and you’d love nothing more than to smack that smug little grin right off of him - perhaps tie him up, show him who’s boss - but that can wait for another time. It’s all you can do to stare up at him with watery eyes, welling over with both the intensity of your orgasm and how fucking hard it is to hold back the moans that so desperately want to break free. 

And Harry’s staring down at you like you’re a goddamn meal, orbs burning with desire. His tongue darts out to lap at his lips so much that they’ve developed what seems to be a permanent glisten and his nails dig into your calf as he squeezes your leg just so, grin widening at how you hiss. “Make sure you’re fuckin’ quiet f’me,” he breathes, raising his eyebrows at you, squirming beneath him. “Don’t want t’have t’punish you, bein’ so loud. Know you got a few more in there f’me - think y’can come around m’cock a few more times?”