#and I wanna put the seaglass in my mouth

[beebleees]

- 🍈 🩴 🍈 - - 🩴 🍈 🩴 - - 🍈 🩴 🍈 -

Here's Paschal's (green tea); a very sassy little mer who grew up above a bar with mom. Flirts way too much. So, so stupid. Statticky, uncooperative magic. Lots of self loathing and even more overcompensation sarcasm to cover it up. Poor child. More info here and here

[magentagalaxies]

so basically a few weeks ago paul bellini sent me two signed mouth congress vinyls as a late birthday present slash gift for running the mouth congress social media and i thought i'd post a vinyl tour bc there's so many cool details here! this is gonna be a long post bc the lyric booklet that came with waiting for henry is pretty much a full zine and i really love all the effort they put into it

contents:

waiting for henry double LP (signed by scott and paul!)

ahhhh the pollution 7" (signed by scott and paul!)

Mouth Congress button (did not know this was a thing so it was just a fun little bonus gift he threw in)

first, close up photo of the sticker on the waiting for henry cover:

next pictures of each of the vinyls:

the lighting was a bit off in these pictures but the vinyls are so beautiful it's unreal. ahhhh the pollution is a translucent bright orange, the first half of waiting for henry is beige, and the second half is this beautiful bright blue that looks like blue rasperry candy. i'm always a sucker for colorful vinyls (i just picked up a copy of "take the sadness out of saturday night" by bleachers on a seaglass vinyl the other day) and i wasn't sure if they had any left so the fact that both releases are on such beautiful vinyl is amazing

next we have the zine!! here's the cover:

the first few pages are a short summary of the mouth congress story as told by paul himself, along with a few pictures of the band members from their college days:

after that we have a fictitious profile of the band written by aviva avoovoo (a freelance writer character created by paul bellini) where she visits the mouth congress chalet and discovers the "dark secrets" that lie within. it's so funny and surreal but i didn't want to post every page of it so instead i'll focus on this old vaguely-cursed pic of paul that accompanied the writing:

once we're done with the fictional side of things there's a two-page spread of cassettes mouth congress put together in the 80s/90s that they released in an attempt to promote the band. each cassette description has a list of featured songs, some of which were later put on "ahhhh the pollution" or "waiting for henry" and some of which i'd never heard about previously and am very intrigued by. i took close-up pics of these two specifically since they're the ones i most want to look into from that page

specifically i really wanna learn more about madam alphonsa. who is she. she's mentioned in "me on my off hours" and makes an appearance on "madamifesto" and "let's hear it for show business." they mentioned in the mouth congress documentary that kevin used to play madam alphonsa's husband. several characters scott played in mouth congress were later done on kids in the hall but madam alphonsa is my new lost media obsession.

after that we have a solid six pages of scott and paul interviewing each other. again it's very long so i'm not posting everything but it was a very good interview which makes me love the band even more and it also had this picture with it:

more old pictures (look how young scott and paul look in the bottom right one i'm losing my mind):

centerfold:

then we have at least 10 pages of lyrics for every song on waiting for henry as well as short blurbs about the story behind each song which was really cool and might be its own post someday, but last but not least i wanted to leave you with my favorite part of the mouth congress zine: the word search

legit took this pic just so i could highlight the words digitally and not draw on the actual zine but oh my god i had so much fun doing this. unironically i think every vinyl should come with a thematically linked word search. it really just goes to show how much joy and effort scott and paul put into everything mouth congress does and i'm so honored i get to be part of their story at the level where i can get something like this autographed and sent to me for free (and also might get free admission to an upcoming mouth congress show if i help them set up beforehand and film the show?? like paul you do realize i would pay VIP prices for this but thank you for doing it for free?? also thank you for asking how my own musical went and genuinely caring about the answer???)

anyway this got a little rambly towards the end but my point is. queercore punk is truly the genre of all time and mouth congress is so fucking great nobody is going it like them

[ericsonclan]

A Bodacious Adventure

Summary: Prisha and Violet go into town to have a quiet date when suddenly it seems fate has other plans.

Word Count: 2922

Read on AO3:

Violet could feel her heartbeat calming down as she stared off towards the port town of Dames Point. The cool afternoon breeze danced through her hair as she heard some crew members working on their daily chores. It would be nice to get off Ol’ Kickass for a bit and walk through the town together hand in hand with her love to see what the port town had to offer.

“Aaaaah! Careful! You nearly snagged my fucking underwear!” Mitch snapped at the captain who gave an awkward laugh.

“Oops, sorry!” Louis gave a grin.

“Mitch! Mitch! AJ and I are gonna see how many hard boiled eggs we can fit in our mouths!” Willy exclaimed gleefully.

Violet watched for a moment then looked away. She’d enjoy the peace and quiet that came with this date.

“Prisha, wanna join us? You can be the counter!” Willy looked at the older pirate with hopeful eyes.

“Sorry, but I already made plans,” Prisha ruffled Willy’s hair when she saw his small frown then walked towards Violet. Instantly she intertwined their fingers together and kissed Violet’s cheek.

“Ready to head out?”

“Yeah,” Violet smiled and with some quick goodbyes they were off. The couple strolled casually through the port town, taking in the sights of the giant palm trees that shaded large portions of the ground. The sound of the beautiful turquoise water crashing upon the white sands mixed with the occasional caw from the seagulls filled the air. Prisha and Violet soon made their way through the marketplace, enjoying the action of looking through the different wares the sellers had to offer. Nothing seemed to really catch their eyes though until Violet spotted a small flower booth. Giving Prisha’s hand a gentle squeeze and stealing a quick kiss, Violet disappeared into the crowd. Prisha watched for a moment as the blonde weaved her way past people, apologizing here and there when she bumped into someone due to not seeing them on her eyepatched side. The pirate quickly lost sight of her love but luckily she wasn’t gone for long.

“Shit, sorry,” Violet bumped roughly into someone and nearly fell over. Her hand got caught by Prisha and with a small pull Violet was back up on her feet.

“Are you alright?” Prisha asked as she brushed back a loose strand of hair that had fallen in the way of the blonde’s eyes. Her fingers brushed Violet’s ear softly and the two got lost in each other’s eyes for a moment.

“Yeah,” Violet looked at Prisha before she remembered. “Oh, I got you this!” The blonde pirate held out a white tropical flower.

“It’s lovely,” Prisha’s eyes shone with joy at the thoughtful gift. Violet smiled and got up on her tiptoes to place the flower by Prisha’s ear. The taller pirate reached up her hand and touched the flower before leaning forward and capturing Violet’s lips in a tender kiss. The romantic gesture made Violet’s heart pitter patter excitedly. “Shall we continue exploring?’ Prisha intertwined her fingers with Violet’s once more.

“Yeah,” Violet walked alongside her love and the two ventured on. After a while they escaped the crowded town square and disappeared into a nearby alleyway. Their backs leaned against the wall while they looked into each other’s eyes.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?” Prisha moved forward and gently held Violet’s hand. “They remind me of seaglass that gets tumbled and pushed through the rough waves and becomes bright, soft and stunning.”

Violet’s eyes grew large at the compliment. She awkwardly scratched the back of her neck. “They’re nothing that special.” Especially now that the area around her eyes was littered with scars.

“I’d disagree. I find everything about you special,”

Those words made Violet’s face grow warm and she glanced away. “Oh come one, stop it.” she mumbled. Violet wanted to come up with some nice compliment for Prisha but she was struggling to find the words. It was tough giving the right words to someone as amazing as Prisha. “You’re the special one. You’re amazing.” Violet continued to get lost in her thoughts, trying to come up with more compliments when she noticed that Prisha hadn’t spoken in a while. “Prisha?”

The blonde pirate looked over just in time to see Prisha collapse down. “Prisha!” Violet caught her wife in her arms and began to panic when suddenly she heard a mixture of falsettos, basses and tenor singing in unison. Not these guys. Violet turned to try and spot them but before she could something whacked her in the back of the head and she blacked out.

Prisha woke up with a groan, immediately wincing in pain when she felt the sore spot on the back of her head. She tried to reach up her hand to touch it but was immediately stopped by the binds on her one good arm that tied her to a beam in the room. The pirate’s eyes grew large and she began to panic, searching around to see where she was and if Violet had been taken too. Her gaze quickly caught sight of the blonde pirate who was still out of it, her head slumped to the side and her hands bound tightly to another beam.

“Violet, Violet,” Prisha whispered. Her voice slowly caused her love to stir awake.

Violet blinked her eyes a few times and looked over. “Prisha!” Violet lunged forward to reach her wife but got yanked back and fell over on her ass.

“Violet!” Prisha’s voice grew loud with concern.

“I’m fine, the only thing hurt is my pride,” Violet mumbled and readjusted her position to get more comfortable.

“It seems we’ve been taken by some group and are currently in their brig. Which group I cannot be certain,” Prisha’s eyes examined every inch of the cell.

“It's those Bodacious Bandits assholes,” Violet blew some loose hair out of the way of her eyes.

Prisha let out an annoyed groan. “Not those singing buffoons,” A deep frown overtook Prisha’s face. She didn’t know which was more embarrassing: the fact that both she and Violet had got taken by the Bodacious Bandits or the fact that she had been so easily apprehended due to the fact that she had been busy complimenting Violet. Letting her guard down so much that these morons could take her down.

Suddenly singing could be heard from above decks - happy, cheery songs most likely due to the fact that they had captured two pirates that would fetch them a handsome amount of coin. Prisha and Violet listened for a few minutes before Prisha got struck with inspiration for an escape plan. “I think I have a way to get us out of here,”

“Okay, what is it?” Violet leaned forward, ready to listen.

“Alright, so…”

A few minutes later the signing grew louder as footsteps approached the brig. A round man with a full beard and a jolly smile looked at the two prisoners. “Well, well, if it isn’t some Ericson Pirates. You two will fetch me a good amount of ducats,” The captain's words inspired the two crew members besides him to begin singing.

“They’ll bring us all the duuuuucaaaaats,” the tenor and bass harmonized on the final note which made the captain nearly tear up.

“Why get coin when you can get a new crew member?”

Prisha’s question made the three bandits look over in surprise. “Sure that would be fine and all, but can you sing, lass?” The captain crossed his arms and gave his most menacing look which appeared more constipated than anything else.

“All I know,” Prisha began to sing, “Is life on the Seven Seas. So, yo ho, yo ho, a bandit’s life for me!” The pirate held out the last note then bowed her head slightly when the Bodacious Bandits clapped and looked at her in awe.

Violet gave a faint smile. The plan was working.

“I’d love to have an alto on me crew,” The captain tapped a finger against his chin. “Alrighty, pass me the key, Seadog.” He held out his hand.

“The key to friendship and brotherhood,” Seadog handed over the key. Soon the captain of the Bodacious Bandits had opened up the cell door and cut loose Prisha from the beam. Prisha shook her wrist for a second then gave a smile.

“I hope you are prepared for some new sea shanties!” Seadog gasped excitedly.

“Did you hear that Captain Jolly, Skully? We be getting sea shanties today!” Seadog and Skully held hands and did a little jig while the captain ran over and joined, completely unaware that Prisha had swiped his blade. After surreptitiously placing the blade in her love’s hands, Prisha strolled forward.

“Let’s not waste a second more.”

The bandits cheered excitedly at the pirate’s words and soon they were off to the upper decks. Violet waited a couple seconds then began to cut through her binds. The knife slowly but surely tore through the rope and after a few seconds she was free. Her hands reached into her pockets and a smirk appeared on her lips. They hadn’t taken away her lockpicks.

“Heh, idiots,” Violet moved to the door and began to shift the device into the keyhole. Delicately the blonde pirate began to fidget around with the picks before she found the right spot. Pressing lightly and shifting the lock, Violet unlocked the door. She smiled proudly at her own skills then joged off to find the room where they kept the confiscated weapons. Her footsteps were almost completely silent as she wandered down the hall. Her hand brushed along the wall and with her limited sight she tried to stay alert for any sudden movements. After a few minutes she had spotted the room. A bandit was in there, leaning back in his chair. He’d be an easy target. Sneaking forward, Violet pulled on the back of his shirt and punched his face, knocking him out. She pushed him back up to sit in place so she wouldn’t alert the others. Violet’s eyes wandered around the room and soon she found her dagger and iron studded gloves as well as Prisha’s cutlass. Violet sheathed the dagger then put on her gloves, making sure they were nice and snug before grabbing Prisha’s weapon and disappearing back into the hallways.

Her job was simple: all she needed to do was clear out the bandits on the lower deck and then get up to the upper decks where Prisha was. There, she’d give the signal and they’d easily overthrow the ship. With determination fueling her heart, Violet continued onwards.

Prisha watched in mild awe as the bandits danced around and performed song after song. She had already sung two sea shanties of her own. She’d have to thank Louis for the overwhelming surplus of sea shanties that now were imprinted in her mind to recall at any point. Her eyes wandered towards the staircase for a moment. Violet should be free by now and well on her way to clearing out all the bandits down below.

“Well, Rattlebones, it's your turn again!” The captain smiled over at Prisha. She didn’t think they would give her a new name so quickly. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the reasoning behind it. Sure, her left arm could wiggle around a lot due to its paralyzed state but it certainly did not make rattling noises.

“Alright, I believe it's time for my grandest of sea shanties!” Prisha’s declaration made the Bodacious Bandits gasp in anticipation. “One that speaks of a love that stole my piratey heart!”

That made the cheering louder. Slowly Prisha moved forward. She began to stomp her foot to get a beat and soon the others clapped along to keep it. With a deep breath Prisha began.

“A pirate gal came here last night

With sailing she was weary.

A pirate gal came here last night

And the moon was shining clearly.”

“Will she find a love as true as the sea.

A love that's meant to be?

Or will she have to sail away

Her heart all cold and gray?”

Prisha’s feet kicked around and she began to get into a sort of dance. The bandits stomped their feet and clapped along.

“Twas there she met a blonde fine lass

Whose eyes were sharp and piercing.

When they both sat down they shared a glass

And danced till morning was nearing.”

“Will she find a love as true as the sea.

A love that's meant to be?

Or will she have to sail away

Her heart all cold and gray?”

Prisha spun around and threw her arm out dramatically as she continued.

“She spent the night staring in those eyes

Her heart grew warm and tender

But then she saw that the sun did rise

And thus ends her lovestruck adventure.”

Prisha sang the chorus once more, some bandits joining in, hoping that the sea shanty ended happily for the two loves.

“The pirate gal got ready to set sail

Her mind all sad and dreary

Till she spot the gal from last night

Who declared she loved her dearly.”

The bandits cheered as Prisha sung the chorus again before getting into the final section of the song. She sang proudly of how the pirate and her love sailed on the Seven Seas and how their love was a powerful force to be reckoned with as they fought as one. As she neared the end of the song, Prisha spotted Violet crouching by the wheel. Based on how happy her face was and the light blush on her cheeks, Prisha knew that Violet must have heard a good portion of the sea shanty. Violet quickly gave the signal and Prisha gave a light nod. With a deep breath she sang the last line.

“Till now and evermore!” She belted out the last note then planting her left foot firmly on the ground, she kicked her other into the captain’s gut and sent him barrelling backwards into the sea. The bandits looked shocked by this move when suddenly Violet placed her hand on the railing and vaulted over.

“Prisha!” Violet tossed her wife her cutlass. Prisha caught it with a confident grin.

“Behold!” She blocked an attack then motioned over towards Violet, “My love that stole my piratey heart!” Prisha declared proudly and quickly disamed her opponent before knocking them out with the hilt of her sword. Violet dashed forward, ducking under and attacking before sending a flurry of hits to the bandit’s gut. Her fist collided with their face, knocking them unconscious before she slid over and stood back to back with Prisha. The two looked at each other and shared a confident grin. Now that they were both here, they were truly a force to be reckoned with.

Prisha disarmed her opponents with ease and sidestepped their feeble attempts to harm her before she gifted them with sleep with the help of her cutlass’ hilt. Violet danced around the opponents, making them seem as slowly as molasses as she bobbed and weaved through their attacks. With well-timed punches and relentless attacks she soon cleared her side.

After a few minutes the deck was covered with the unconscious members of the Bodacious bandits. Prisha sheathed her cutlass then turned to Violet who was catching her breath.

“Violet, are you alright?” She moved forward towards her love.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You?” Violet glanced up at her wife.

“I’m fine. In fact, I’m better than fine. I feel so alive right now!” Prisha smiled brightly then wrapped her arm around Violet’s waist and pulled her close. Leaning forward, she captured her love’s lips in a passionate kiss. Violet seemed surprised for a moment then cupped Prisha’s face and deepened the kiss. The two held onto the kiss for as long as they could before having to pull away. The pair shared a smile before Prisha lifted up Violet's hand and placed a kiss on it.

“There really is nothing like fighting by your side,” Prisha’s words made Violet’s heart pound.

“I feel the same way. You were absolutely amazing, how you took down those two guys at once and-” Violet continued to compliment her wife’s fighting skills as they walked hand in hand to the rowboat to prepare it for use.

With some coordinating and maneuvering they both got into the rowboat and were heading back to the port town. Violet took both oars and began to row. The sight of her muscles glistening in the sun made Prisha’s heart flutter wildly.

“So, think the others even noticed we were gone for so long?” Violet’s voice made Prisha’s attention turn up to her wife’s face. A soft, carefree smile was on her lips.

“I highly doubt it. With the hardboiled egg competition I’m sure they’re having a far too fun, chaotic time to notice our absence.”

“True.“ Violet rowed in silence for a few minutes then spoke up. “So, you seemed to be having fun with the sea shanties.”

“Yes, it was a pleasant time. Perhaps I should ask Louis to find some more sea shanties and we can enjoy the singing and dancing that comes with it.” Prisha looked over her love’s way. “Would you like to join in? I’d love to hear your beautiful singing voice again.”

Violet looked surprised and glanced away. “Yeah, with you it should be fun.”

Prisha smiled brightly and looked out towards the sea. She couldn’t wait for those future days.

[sasshole-for-rent]

Shits and Sage

@dismalzelenka asked: Prompt: SMELL MY FUZZY WEED WITH YOUR ANUS, any pairing of your choice. >:3c (Why am I writing this? blame dis for this @dadrunkwriting​)

Summary: Faeven slips something between a bear’s cheeks. Sera sucks at fibbing. Horse toots. 

It was a Sunday, and like most Sundays, it started out weird. More weird than the last Sunday which was when he came home to find the loft, his work space, and stables covered in gourds and a cackling half-drunk elf rolling in the straw. She liked puns, and he liked her quite a bit, so he tolerated her pranks. One would even say he enjoyed them. One being Sera knew this secret, and would elbow him when she caught him smiling at Faeven. Only the horse he talked to when she was gone knew that he was quite taken with her. It was a bit embarrassing when Dennet overheard him while mucking the stalls. 

But this Sunday she crossed a line with her little pranks. He’d woken up with something pokey in his ass, and he did not like it. He was going to make damn sure she knew that.

“Why did I wake up with a sprig of sage in my asscrack?“ Blackwall came down from the loft, holding up the aforementioned fuzzy plant. He never thought he’d ever say a sentence like that, but he was beginning to find a lot of odd things coming out of his mouth lately, especially if Faeven was around. At least, bees weren’t flying out of his mouth like that utterly terrifying remark Cole had made while in Crestwood.  

Faeven and Sera were sipping from bowls at his woodworking table. He knew it was coffee from the smell of it. The griffon he had been carving had been delicately placed on a clean portion of straw. At least, they had some decency.

"Sage is for cleansing…” Faeven stated as if that explained everything. She was cheeky even if she was being interrogated due to slipping things between his cheeks. 

“Yeah, but why was it in my ass, puddin’?” The moniker came out of his lips before he could stop it. He’d only used it once with Faeven before and with Faeven alone. He didn’t even know why it came about, or why he said it right now. He was supposed to be mad at her, right? One look at her looking at him with wide eyes and a stupid little smile made the thoughts slip away like silk. 

One of Sera’s signature titters snapped him back into reality. “Heh, puddin’ what kind of shite…?"  Faeven narrowed her eyes over her bowl. Her laughter stopped with a cough. 

“Right…” Sera cleared her throat, awkwardly, and she noticed him and his lack of dress for the first time. To be fair, he lived here and a man could wear whatever he pleased. At least he was wearing pants. "Beardy, you heard of shirts? I mean, it’s fine, yeah. Just not the first thing I wanna see in the morning.” “I don’t mind it.” Faeven smiled as she got an eye full of him, before flicking a splash of whatever she kept in those things up her sleeve into her bowl. “So, about the sage?” He prodded, meeting her eye. With a quirk of her lips, she gazed into her bowl as if it was the most intriguing thing. Faeven sipped at her coffee, bowl taking up half her face. Why were they drinking from bowls? Was he still dreaming? He never knew with their lot. “I hoped it would cleanse the foul fumes that came out of it.” “With all due respect,” He pulled up a chair. “coming from you that’s a brave accusation. Half of that was you."   "Mine didn’t smell like that…” She protested, setting her bowl down. “They just made noise.” There was a spare bowl. He made use of it, and poured himself a coffee. He might as well get accustomed with the strange, if he was going to be subjugated to it every Sunday.  “It was your cooking that did me in. I shouldn’t have told you that I liked jellied meats. Didn’t taste quite right going down."  "Look, I followed the recipe the cook gave me. Sera ate it and she wasn’t shitting up the place. Her plate was licked clean even.” “Yeah, you think she ate it? I saw her sneak her plate to the horse when you wasn’t looking.” “Did not.” Sera folded her arms, chewing on a piece of straw. “Beardy’s friggin’ lying, Fae. Don’t listen to him.” “I saw you, Fuzzhead.” He gave her what he thought was his best scolding eyebrow jaunt. “I bet if we shut our traps for a moment, you’d hear that poor horse just roaring out its ass.” “How dare you accuse her of such things! Look at her, she is the picture of innocence.” He did look at her and she was the furthest thing from being innocent. Even gave him a full fledged raspberry basically announcing that she did indeed feed the horse last night’s dinner. Sometimes it was difficult to know whether Fae was serious or playing. “She actually appreciates my cooking, unlike somebody I know.” She paused to give him a scrunched up nose. She was playing. He gave her a boop on the nose, and she actually had to laugh out the rest. “Isn’t that right, Sera?” “Yeah…” Her face curling into something like a smile, but not quite. “What is that you’re doing with your face there?” Faeven addressed the peculiar almost smile with a swirl of her finger. “Are you smiling or?” “It’s nothing!” Sera jabbed a finger into Faeven’s cheek. “What are you doing with your face? It’s doing that gross pink shite again." 

“It’s…uh.”

Out of his peripherals, Sera threw up a hand at him. “Oh come on, not you too.” He was blushing. Oh well, He didn’t care. He was busy watching Faeven blush too. She was cute with her fingers wrapped lightly around her stupid bowl and white teeth smiling down at the wood grains in the table. She was shy when you got close, and man, he was really close. Those eyes were like seaglass, and his finger was hooked under her chin. Things happened fast as they did, and he placed a kiss to her forehead. 

Faeven sat there, gaping at him. Not knowing whether it was okay to breathe or to swear at him, because holy shit. That just happened. Her cheeks were hot. She touched them. Her body felt like it was vibrating, like hummingbirds knocking their wings against wind chimes. The chair creaked. He took his bowl with him as he walked away. She put hers back to her lips. Should she say something? Should she follow? Were they going to drink coffee together? They were before but Sera was with them? Sera?

“Oh whatever, wasn’t he supposed to be mad at you?” Sera leaned down to put her boots on. Had she been barefoot this whole time? Oh right, they went running through mud puddles before and now her feet were crusty, “He put that butt sage in your coffee while you were making eyes at him, by the way.”

That snapped her out of her doey thoughts. With a glance, she saw the sprig floating in her bowl. Faeven spit out her coffee. “He fucking what?” 

“Mmhm.” Sera said as she went out the door. Blackwall was leaning against the stables beside himself with laughter. They locked eyes, then the laughter stopped as she chased him around the stables. 

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

Only Angel [h.s.]

A/N: this one shot has been in the works for a while and i finally managed to finish it up :-) i hope you all enjoy it! sorry for any typos! feel free to leave your thoughts by my inbox and happy reading! all the love, andrea 💝

There are a lot of things that Y/N loves in the world– enough to fill up entire pages of a book, possibly. Not a thick book, though– no, more like a short chapter book like the ones she used to read back in first grade.

She adores general things, such as her family and friends, along with more specific things, like her cozy knitted blanket and the new season of Supernatural. And then there were the detailed, intimate things, such as popping her sweaters into the drying machine for a few minutes before slipping them on so that they would be toasty for the road, or petting her two-year-old Burmese cat, Sybil, in the curve right behind his left ear and feeling his deep purring against her thighs.

Then there was Harry, which Y/N tended to file under all three categories. For general, she fancies him for his quirky sense of humor and lovingly idiotic personality. For specific, she’d state that she loves the size of his hands because they were huge– big enough that one of his could easily hold both of her wrists together. And for intimate, Y/N has always been fascinated by Harry’s ears. A tad odd, perhaps, but she could never live down how small and adorable they were, and super sensitive, too. Whenever she would bite at them he would always let loose something in between a childish giggle and an anguished whine, signifying how torn he was between the pain and pleasure that derived from that certain area.

However, there is one exact thing that Y/N doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to categorize because her attachment to it is simply too much to put into words: riding Harry.

Fucking Harry was something completely different from everything else. It wasn’t so much for the physical pleasure, but more for the cognitive one– what really got her off was the way he would respond to her. How his body would seem to bend all out of shape in just the right way to cause her ego ecstasy, just as much as it would in between her legs.

It would start from the obvious aspects, such as the fact that she was able to get him to come for her without much of a struggle, and then the smaller things, like how the muscle on his jaw would tick as he stretched his neck, his head hitting the back board of the bed as his hips would buck up against her, trying to extract the most pleasure he could from her warm body. The sounds, too. The teeny whimpers and watery hiccups of rapture that would tear at his throat as Y/N would bounce steadily on his hard cock, his face burying itself into the skin of her neck to muffle pitiful moans as he would writhe and thrash under her command.

She loved it for the fact that whenever Harry asked her to ride him, it meant that he was especially needy that day, which also meant that he was a wound up mess for Y/N to unravel as she chose. At times like these, he’d become incredibly vocal, whining and whimpering as loud as his voice would allow– loud enough that even she was embarrassed for him. He would be extremely docile, letting Y/N do away with him without a second thought, as long as she promised to let him come at the end.

She would always take full advantage of these situations, pushing a doe-eyed, quivering Harry into the bed, sitting in between his legs and usually just jerking him off nice and slow, watching as he would throw his head back in desperation, pulling at his sweaty curls wildly, clenching his thighs, and leaning his head forward to look at her as she got him off. His lips would be set into a deep raspberry pout that held the slightest bit of amusement, laying back on his elbows as he stared at her with vulnerable yet controlling eyes while his hips would give short bursts of bucks here and there, trying to finish himself. Lots of praising, as well. The gooey, warm air would fill with teeny wisps of, “Jus’ like tha’, pet. Getting me off nice and hard. Always know how to make me feel so fucking good, don’t ya? Know how t'make Daddy spill, hm, baby?” as well as, “Atta girl, petal. Fuck me so bloody good. No one can do it like you.” 

Most times, when he saw he couldn’t swindle her into doing what he wanted, he’d end up begging for it. Y/N would usually ignore him, going even slower just to make the view last– God, did she want it to last.

Harry, when whittled down to this utterly primal state where he had no more teasing and praise left in him, was one picture of many she wished she could permanently etch into her eyelids so that she would be able to see it any time she pleased. He would lie there naked, with his legs spread out widely, feet flat on the bed with his knees bent, fingers tight around the railings of the headboard per Y/N’s instructions. His chest and abdomen would be flushed a painful shade of red as his skin would drip sweat onto the sheets, his eyes watery and pleading as his back would arch off of the mattress, hips jerking from side to side in an attempt to reach his goal. Y/N would lay next to him, her body tucked into his side, stroking him off as she would plant sloppy kisses down the length of his jaw and neck, biting at his lips and swallowing down the pants of “Wanna c-come. Feels so good– please let me. Been hard all day, kitten, please?” or “Fuck me faster, baby. Faster! Y'know the footie match later tonight? I’ll eat you out during every commercial break, I promise. Just p-please!”

Y/N would usually give in (who would be insane enough not to?) and finish by riding him off quickly, laying over his post-orgasm-weakened body and running her fingers through his tangled, damp hair, planting gentle kisses to his pink-splattered cheeks as he’d let his eyes lull shut, swallowing thickly and murmuring a raspy, “Shit, you’re amazing.”

Today was different, however, in the sense that she was feeling a bit more sympathetic because of the way Harry had stumbled in through the door of their bedroom at 12:44 at night, utterly beat from a full day of filming and practically oozing neediness. His usually twinkling seaglass eyes were dimmed to a dull, mossy green, his short hair a floppy mess, and his shoulders sagging heavily as he tripped over his big feet, slumping face-first into the bed with a defeated grunt.

“Hard day?” Y/N crawls over to where he is, nudging him onto his back and snuggling up against his depleted form, hugging his torso and sponging her lips against his forehead, brushing away the creases between his eyebrows.

“’M so fucking tired,” Harry mumbles weakly, slinging an arm flimsily across her waist and pulling her further into his warm embrace. He turns his body to the side, coming face-to-face with her concerned expression and kissing the very tip of her nose lovingly. “Everything went to shit today.”

“What happened?”

“Well, for starters, I asked for two packets of ranch dressing in my salad but they only gave me one, and it wasn’t even ranch! It was blue cheese!” He huffs in exasperation, crinkling his nose up in disgust. “You know how much I hate blue cheese!”

Y/N rolls her eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully. “You’re such a diva.”

“I am not!” He screeches, proving that he is, indeed, a diva.

“I specifically asked for ranch and the assistant said she wrote it down. She had one job!” Harry exclaims, throwing his arms up into the air for emphasis and then letting them fall onto the bed, splayed above his head. “I didn’t complain, though. I kinda just lounged around set pouting. But as if that wasn’t enough, while we were doing the scene where we’re all covered in mud, one of the cameras busted and we had to sit there for almost an hour while they searched for the replacement. The mud was making my skin all itchy and it dried into my hair. Took me forever to get it out.”

“My poor baby.” Y/N wails dramatically, cupping Harry’s cheeks in her hands and pressing kisses all across his nose and eyelids.

He narrows his eyes at her, a begrudging huff puffing warm air against her cheek. “I am a poor baby. Mud, Y/N. Crusty, smelly, itchy mud.”

She rubs her thumb over one of his cheekbones and brushes her lips against the corner of his mouth, knowing that the best thing for her to do during this type of rare temper tantrum is to comfort him. “I know, dear. But aside from that, did you have any fun?”

Harry’s ears perk up, his eyes lighting up faintly as a teeny smile carves a dimple into his face. “Nolan complimented me on my scenes today. Said I was a great choice for the character.”

Y/N can’t contain her smile, fondness completely taking over her face. He had worked so hard (religiously going over lines in the mornings while brushing his teeth and at night in the shower, hiring a vocal coach to help him with the accent for the role, and some hardcore method acting at home, refusing to get out of character) to get this role and the fact that he was getting recognition for it made her so incredibly proud.

“That’s amazing, honey. So amazing, I think we should celebrate, maybe in the form of a creamy dessert.” She pats his strong chest happily, getting up to go get the jug of Rocky Road ice cream she had bought earlier when she was out doing the groceries.

Harry’s hand stops her, his fingers gripping hers and yanking her back on top of him. Y/N blinks down at him with confusion as he cradles her jaw in both of his humungous palms, tucking strands of her hair behind her ears.

“I was actually hoping for another type of a congratulatory gift,” he bites into the skin just under his bottom lip, the edges of his mouth tilting up coyly as he arches his eyebrows up suggestively.

Y/N’s lips purse, trying to hide a grin of her own as she sits up to straddle his lap, eyes skimming down his body temptingly. “Rain check on the ice cream?”

“Definitely,” Harry lifts his arms above his head, waiting for her to take charge. His black Ramones t-shirt drifts up his torso, revealing a sliver of tummy where his happy trail hides. She follows the tiny hairs with her sight, watching them disappear alluringly under the waist band of his red Calvin Klein briefs.

She glimpses up at him as his eyes twinkle with mischief, craning his head to the side to allow the veins in his neck to become more prominent under the silky, slightly tanned skin, inviting her to take a bite. He’s teething at the corner of his mouth (knowing good and well how much that gets her going), his sharp cheekbones and jaw on full display. His legs shift under her weight, toes curling impatiently.

Y/N loops her fingers into his belt, toying with the metal buckle teasingly and reminiscing in the low, desperate whine that comes from deep in his chest. She grips the hem of his tee, coasting the soft material up his body, feeling the warm muscles of his abdomen tighten at the feathery sensation. Leaning down, she pastes wet, hot kisses on his simmering skin, suckling up along each fern tattoo, up the spine of the butterfly and giving a rough lick to his puffy left nipple, smiling against his flesh as he keens quietly. She pushes the shirt over his chin and runs it up his arms until it is level with his eyes, using it as a makeshift blind fold.

“Y-You gonna…?” Harry’s voice is trembling and unbelievably thick as he swallows heavily, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His arms are still above his head, hands now gripping the railings of the headboard, knuckles white with anticipation.

“I dunno. Should I?” Y/N skims her hands up his biceps, her words tickling the shell of his right ear. “Or do you think you can be a good enough boy not to need them?”

Harry inhales as if he has just been shot, chest rising but not falling as he seems to choke on a breath. He doesn’t answer– no nod of his head or sound of agreement– which leads Y/N to believe something else.

“Unless…do you want to be cuffed?” She asks, mildly shocked.

Harry is the type of person who, alongside being the dominant in the relationship, is very touchy-feely in general, meaning that trait amplifies during sex; whenever she handcuffs him, it’s usually as a punishment. But, apparently, he fancies it at the moment.

“Yeah,” he finally huffs out, nodding his head meekly and even though she can’t see his eyes under the blindfold, she knows he probably has shut them in embarrassment. His cheeks tinge even redder and he turns his face to the side as if to break eye contact. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Y/N can’t help but snort out a laugh, squeezing his shoulders jestingly. “You can’t even see me!”

“But I can feel you looking at me.” He mumbles, his jaw tightening.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, it’s just…you’ve never asked so I’m kind-of in shock right now,” she reaches over him, opening the drawer in the mahogany night stand and sifting around until she feels the distinct coldness of the metal slide against her fingertips. She brings them out along with the keys, unlocking them and looping one velvet-covered cuff around his left wrist, locking it, looping the middle chain over one of the railings and repeating the procedure with the opposite wrist.

“Check ‘em for me,” she orders as she reaches back over to the drawer to return the key and pulls out two more toys– a new bottle of lube and a vibrating cock ring.

Harry gives the handcuffs a couple of tugs, proving their security. His arms then slump into the bed, fingers looping around the excess chain link as a way to keep a grip on himself. “They’re good.”

Y/N hums her response, having set the cock ring to the side and being distracted with getting the plastic seal off of the lube cap. He waits as patiently as possible, hips jerking every now and then when he feels her weight shift along his groin. The distinct sound of plastic crumpling nips at his ears and his brows furrow.

“New box of condoms?” He asks, blinking behind the cloth, slightly confused because he swears they just opened up a new one last week.

“Lube,” Y/N corrects, letting the wrapper fall onto the floor as she pops open the blue-tinted bottle of KY Ultragel. “It’s the warming kind.”

“Bet that feels incredible,” Harry sighs wistfully, wishing he could feel something else other than the latex of a condom.

“You’re about to find out.” Y/N sets the bottle onto his naked chest and he jumps slightly at the coldness of the plastic. She swiftly unbuckles his belt, tugging his briefs and jeans down and off, returning to her original seat in his lap but now with his semi-hard pressing into her underwear. She takes the flowy material of her Winnie the Pooh patterned night gown, bunching it up her thighs so Harry will be able to get a perfect view of her in a second.  

“We’re barebacking?!” He can’t help the excitement that fills his voice, his arms trying to reach forward instinctively but being yanked back by his restraints.

Going bare for them was something of a rarity because the pills tend to bloat Y/N pretty badly and the last thing Harry wants is for her to be in pain because of him. But there would be times when she would insist on it– said she wanted to feel what he was like without a piece of flimsy plastic– and he wasn’t one to complain.

“Yep,” Y/N reaches up, moving the t-shirt up enough so Harry can peek at her.

A huge lump lodges in his throat as he looks up at his girl, baby pink night gown scrunched up around her milky thighs, the color matching her undies. She looks so innocently fresh-faced and lovely, hair a fluffy, unbrushed mess and the outline of her nipples printed against the cotton of her clothes. The only thing she was missing was a gigantic gift bow.

“I know–” Y/N grunts with effort as she hikes the gown further up, annoyed that it keeps riding down, “–that you like watching me touch myself so…”

She finishes with a little shrug, teething at the corner of her mouth as she eyes him, waiting for a response.

Harry nods furiously, eyes widening as his cock gives a painful jerk and he’s a hair short from collapsing with arousal. “Y'sure? I mean, this is your time to do whatever y'want to me and I don’t want you to waste it trying to–”

“This is what I want to do,” her lips twitch into a sly smile.

He stares at her for a second and then sighs shakily. “Then yes– fuck, yes, poppet, please. Love t'see you be dirty.”

Y/N nods shyly, breathing out heavily. “So, like, do you want me to feel myself everywhere or to just go at it right away or…?”

“Do whatever you feel like doing but just do something.” Harry pants, hips swiveling to rub his now full hard-on against her bum for some minor relief.

“Alright.”

She starts off at her chest, groping her breasts into the palms of her hands and giving each nipple a tentative squeeze, feeling pleasure spike in her spine. She keeps at it for a few more seconds, the only sound in the room being Harry’s franticly growing breathes mingling with her own. Her right hand starts to drift down to her center, fingers stopping just above the waist band of her cherry-printed panties.

“Tell me what to do.” She swallows thickly, air puffing from her stinging lungs. She eyes Harry with fascination, his own irises glossy as his sight is glued to her chest, mouth slightly agape in awe.

He licks his purple-tinted, puffy lips, pulling at the cuffs in an attempt to get himself back in control. “You see the long mirror over there? Grab it and prop it up against the end of the bed to face us. Place a pillow in between my legs and lay down on your back fo’ me, angel. Facing the mirror so I can get a good view of that pretty cunt, yeah?”

Y/N does as told, quick footsteps patting against the floor as she sets everything up, then lays in between Harry’s legs and spreads her own wide open, feeling the cold air of the room caress the wet patch that has pooled in her underwear. She stares at their reflection in the mirror, his hair a disheveled mess, flexing arms tied back, cheeks and neck painted bright red as his sweaty chest heaves. She herself is nothing but tangled hair and damp skin, but her position makes it easier to keep her night gown from covering her crotch so that she’s on fully display for his liking.

“What now?” Y/N tilts her head back, locking onto Harry’s upside down gaze and blinking at him with fake innocence.

“Just rub yourself for me, peach. Nice and slow.” His voice cracks at the end, resulting in him swallowing audibly. His prick is throbbing for attention under the pillow and he ruts up against it subtlety, trying to keep himself in reign.

She coasts her hand down her abdomen, letting it dip inside her wrecked undies and rubbing her wet clit in long, slow circles. Her legs twitch and a slow burn of bliss ignites in the pit of her stomach, causing her inhales to hitch.

“Faster.” Harry croaks from behind, staring at her intently through the mirror.

He wishes he could run his hands through her hair, tugging at it as he whispers what he wants her to do. Wishes he could run his fingers up and down the length of her arms and feel her muscles clenching as she speeds up, helping by guiding her fingers into herself. Wishes he could cup his hands under her creamy thighs and to keep her legs spread nice and wide, digging his nails into the supple flesh and feeling her sweat slide against his fingertips. But he can’t– won’t– because he knows it’ll be so much hotter for her to do it herself. And he likes the feeling of being helpless at times– of not being in control. The adrenaline of not knowing what is to come is better than anything, the excitement tenfold, and the orgasm a hundred times that. So he restrains himself from begging her to release him and focuses on her instead.

Y/N picks up her pace, the weak simmer inside her now dialing up to a mild boiling. Teeny gasps begin to choke out from her throat and she can feel her pulse speeding up, the sound of blood rushing through her head muffling her hearing. She nudges at the tiny bulb within her clit, feeling sparks erupt from the base of her spine and travel up her neck and face, numbing her mind with ecstasy. Her fingers are slick with her arousal, her crotch throbbing as she uses her whole hand to drive herself towards release.

Harry’s voice breaks through her trance, sharp and clear. “Off. Take ‘em off.”

Y/N knows exactly what he’s talking about and it takes every drop of will power to stop her movements. She roughly pushes her panties down her thighs and knees, kicking them off and watching them fall off the edge of the bed. She spreads her legs again, bending her knees up and apart while planting her feet flat against the bed to keep her stable. Her head falls back to look at him, tears of desperation squeezing out of the corners of her eyes as her mouth falls open, stuttered wisps of air blowing out.

Harry can tell she’s waiting for his next order and it turns him fucking on that she will let him run everything she is doing to herself.

“Bring you’re hand up here.” He jerks his chin towards it, watching as she raises her quivering hand up to his face, the dim light of the lamps reflecting off of the cloudy liquid that slides down her fingers. He takes them into his mouth without hesitation, swirling his tongue around to collect her juices. She’s tangy, with an undertone of sweetness– the usual. Her scent fills the air around him and it’s driving him insane.

“Use your other hand, love. Two fingers.” He speaks through a full mouth, sucking on her fingers daintily as he stares down at her enlarged eyes and pink cheeks. “Go on, then.”

Y/N doesn’t have to be told again, slowly sinking her two middle fingers into her tight, slick hole. She starts pumping them, utter euphoria rippling through her entire body and causing her to let loose a shamefully loud moan.

“That’s it, pet,” Harry watches with hungry eyes as his girl fucks herself with her fingers, whining as he sees her dripping out onto the rumpled sheets. “Fuck, you look absolutely beautiful for me.”

Y/N scoots up higher so that her head can fall onto his shoulder, the action causing the pillow in between their bodies to rub against his leaking cock. He hisses, mumbling something along the lines of “God, gonna come if y'keep that up.”

When she’s nuzzled up against him, he turns his head, pressing soft kisses to her forehead with whispers of, “Feels okay? You’re so good to me, moppet– doing this just for me. Love seeing my good girl be so naughty.”

Y/N swims in his compliments, allowing her eyes to lull closed as Harry presses his hot mouth against her temple, his warm breathing puffing against her damp hairline. “Y'gonna come for me?”

“Y-Yeah,” she sighs, curling her digits upwards and a wave of pleasure so intense smacks into her that she thinks she might’ve blacked out for a second. “But not before I’m through with you.”

With that, Y/N smoothly draws her fingers from within herself, flipping over and sitting into his lap, her calves tucked under his thighs. She doesn’t bother wiping off, twisting from side to side until she finds the bottle of lube. She squirts out a decent-sized glob of gel into her palm as she looks down at Harry’s engorged prick, pale green and blue veins pulsing under the thin skin, his head tinted different shades of pink. Not wasting any time, she slathers the liquid onto him, working him from base to tip with quick, fluent flicks of her wrist.

Harry is in what he guesses to be the line where heaven and hell meet because on one side, the thermal lube begins to work immediately, seeming to draw the warmth from his heated skin and using it as a catalyst to intensify the raw pleasure Y/N is already giving him. Precome is beading out of his hole steadily, running over the tip and down his shaft, blending in with the Ultragel, making a cloudy blue-tinted mess. On the opposite side, however, he really rather have her warmth wrapped around him and he fears that if she keeps stroking him, they won’t get to that part in time.

He focuses his blurry sight on a determined Y/N, her head tilted down to give his cock her full and undivided attention. Her hair falls across her ruddy cheeks, lashes casting a shadow across the tops, and he finds her so unbelievably adorable, even while she’s doing the dirty deed of jerking him off. He watches her with adoration, his eyes bright with lust and doey with love, whimpering with utter need.

Y/N’s tongue peeks out of the corner of her mouth in concentration and Harry can’t help but yelp out a laugh in between a stream of moans. She looks up, startled, eyes owlish with surprise. “What is it?”

He tilts his head to the side where it rests against his shoulder, the left corner of his mouth curling into a soft lopsided smirk, his nose scrunching up with fondness. “You’re just proper cute, s'all. Even when you’re about to fuck me into another dimension.”

She looks away from his eyes, a gentle smile making home across her colorful cheeks. Her voice is meek and humble. “Shut up.”

“Make me.” Harry waggles his eyebrows jokingly.

“If you insist.” Y/N reaches over and grabs at something that’s just out of his line of view. She holds it up between her thumb and forefinger, swaying the circular rubber contraption  from side-to-side.

Harry’s eyes immediately widen, face paling. “Bloody hell.”

She squeezes a bit of lube onto the rim of the cock ring, spreading it all over its circumstance and setting it onto Harry lightly, where it slides down about a fourth of his length and halts.

Y/N tuts as she shifts back slightly, allowing her a bit more space to grip the ring. “S'gonna be a snug fit, Har. Brace yourself.”

Despite the warning, Harry still screams. It’s not that it hurts, but he’s so fucking hard and so ready to fucking burst that something as tight as that toy is bound to dismantle him entirely. She works the circle down his prick, twisting and turning it, the rubber expanding just enough to accommodate to his size. Once it’s down to his base, pressing gently against his throbbing balls, Y/N dives her hand under his thigh and fishes out a tiny remote.

“It vibra–?!” He’s cut off by the ring quaking to life, jittering at a medium pace around his cock, causing ripples of white hot pleasure to surge up through the bulging veins under his skin.

Harry thrashes against the bed, the handcuffs biting into the skin of his wrists and keeping him from falling off. Y/N holds him down with her thighs by sitting securely in his lap, watching with fascination as he throws his head back and worries his bottom lip between his two front teeth, trying to stifle the whimpers and whines that are rawing his throat. His eyes are screwed shut and his Adam’s Apple bobs thickly as he swallows down his keening, breathing stuttering as he arches his hips up without consent. The muscles along his arms flex and contract with his movement, straining hard against the shackles, chiseled by exertion. The skin under his ferns tattoos is growing a dangerous shade of red, along with his chest, which has a thin sheen of sweat glistening from his pores. His prick is a dull maroon shade under the thick layer of lubricant, spilling heavily now as it twitches with longing.

“Baby, I– shit, Y/N, please!” Harry throws his body forwards, neck leaning towards her as much as his restraints allow, which guarantees bruises along his wrists. His cheeks are wet with tears of neediness and his swollen lower lip is quivering, hair mattered to the sides of his neck as his eyes bleed with a desperate plead. “God, just– ah, ahhh…fuck, love, just take me. Do it now, I can’t hold…any longer! Please!”

“Oh, c'mon, H. You can do it a little longer.” Y/N clucks, leaning down to press sloppy, gooey kisses up the dip between his hips, following his pelvic bone up to his belly button and kissing a circle around it, then continuing her trek upwards.

Harry’s full on sobbing now, jerking in distress at the tiny euphoric bombs she’s placing all around the most sensitive parts of his body. “Stop!”

She shakes her head, causing her lips to brush back and forth against his sensitive nipples. “’M having too much fun.”

He flails from side-to-side, the cuffs cutting into his skin even though they’re lined with velvet. Y/N reaches up, wrapping her hand loosely around Harry’s throat, not tightening but just to get his attention by digging her nails into the underside of his sharp jaw. He mewls quietly, sounding like a scolded puppy, forcing himself to remain as still as possible. She skims the nails of the opposite hand up and down the length of his prick, swiping her thumb over his tip and sucking harder against swollen rosy nipple when she hears him yelp. “Stay still and I’ll give you what you want.”

Harry nods his head meekly, slumping into the cushioning below him and taking in deep inhales to try and clear his mind of the torture. He curls his fingers into week fists as he feels Y/N suckle along his collarbone and up his neck, pecking lightly at his chin and nipping at his bottom lip.

“Look at me, Harry.” Her voice is soft yet authoritative, resulting in him cracking his eyes open. His view is blurry at first from having them shut so tightly for a while but after he focuses on her, he wishes he’d kept them shut.

She looks so beautiful and tempting with her plump lips, big eyes and amused smirk. The hand that was around his throat goes to grip his whole jaw, forcing him to maintain eye contact as she ruts her bare heat against his vibrating cock, her warmth and dampness mixing with his and it takes every cell in him not to lash out.

Y/N brushes their noses together, breaths mingling as she maintains full eye contact with him. “No matter what, you keep looking at me.”

“Okay.” Harry swallows heavily, ready to accept anything she has to offer.

When he feels her start to sink over him, he knows he’s done for. Her walls are velvety smooth, warm and tight, encompassing him perfectly. Every ridge, nook and cranny catches on his skin, working him over better than he ever thought he’d feel. Y/N makes him keep their gazes locked as she makes to reach his base, getting off on watching Harry’s eyes slowly shatter into carnal instincts.

When she finally thunks down damply against his thighs, feeling his balls against her ass, she speaks up quietly. “What d'you want me to do?”

He stares at her over his thick lashes, eyes depleted and foggy yet bright with arousal. She’s still in her nightgown, which he finds hilariously ironic considering they’re covered in tiny Winnie the Pooh characters and he knows for sure they wouldn’t approve of what she’s doing right now. She looks pretty and petulant and adorable, yet she exudes an aura of quiet power over him that leaves his mind reeling. He loves every second of it.

With a rough hiccup, Harry answers. “Ride me ‘til I pass out, sweetheart.”

And that’s precisely what she does. Well, not to the point where he passes out, but close enough. Y/N starts off slow, squeezing around him like he’d instructed her how to do so many times before, swinging her hips in subtle circles to give him the maximum amount of sensations she could offer.

Harry is a weeping mess, throat aching with hoarse, shaking moans and broken growls of rapture as he feels himself vibrating within her snugness, prodding certain points inside her that have her melting onto him. Y/N herself is matching his sounds of ecstasy, keening and humming out her gratitude as she bounces steadily on his engorged prick. Her release is thrumming at the bottom of her spine, sending shivers coursing through her entire being as her thighs slap wetly against his, full of nothing but raw, unfiltered lust.

Even though Y/N had established a certain amount of dominance, there was still a permanent part of her that loved having him take over her, and Harry knows it. He can see it in how the look in her irises molds from one of vehemence to one of warm pleading. And so a silent agreement comes into play, Harry clearing his throat to speak up.

“C'mere, pet.” His voice is strained, but with a strong tone.

Y/N tucks her face into his neck, angled so that her ear is close to his mouth to hear what he has to say. “I wan’ em on my face.”

It takes a second for her to understand what he’s suggesting, but it clicks into place fairly fast. By obeying his request, she is relinquishing a part of the dominance she has over him, but it’s what she wants. She craves to have him both under her control, while being under his at the same times.

Harry looks at her with a muted wash of victory in his dark mossy irises, the edges of his lips quirking into a triumphant grin. “What’re you waiting fo’? In my mouth. Now.”

Y/N shifts up, releasing her hold on his face and stretching her arms above her head, tangling their fingers together over one of the headboard railings. He gives her hand a weak squeeze, thumbing over her knuckles lovingly. She then does as told, shifting upwards a little further so that her clothed chest falls right into his face.

Harry licks his chapped lips, reaching up to suck at one of her nipples, tonguing it over the fabric, leaving it damp and pebbled. He repeats the procedure on the opposite nipple, pursing his lips over it and squeezing between both. “Love sucking your cute little nipples, darling. Love having you in my mouth.”

Y/N gasps lightly as he gives a rough thrust upwards, pushing himself inside her rashly. His jaw goes taut as he addresses her with a state of predatory-like order, thrusting up into her again and reveling in the squeaky croak she yaps. “Uncuff my hands so I can help you fuck me.”

She does just that, unlocking the metal with shaking fingers, massaging over his bruised wrists with care and kissing the stinging skin to make it feel better.

It doesn’t take long for them to pick up a fierce, racing rhythm, Harry squeezing and spanking Y/N’s ass as he keeps a tight grip on her while she marks deep purple hickeys into the skin of his throat and jaw, her own hands buried in his messy chestnut curls, tugging at them with desire. He’s propped back against the headboard and jolting with their movement, fingers hidden under the fabric of her nightwear and marking her skin with scratches. “God, your amazing, Y/N. Such a tight little cunt, fucking hell.”

She shows her thanks in the form of love bites, murmuring against his hot skin. “You’re so hot, Harry. Love you inside me…”

“Yeah? Y'like m'cock, baby? Like it all the way up here?” His ego gets off on her praise and he coasts a hand onto her abdomen, patting it reassuringly. “Like feeling me all the way in your tummy, hm?”

Y/N nods her head frantically, fisting at his hair and ignoring the sweat that is sticking her pajamas to her back. Harry kisses her feverishly, but even now there’s a certain caring undertone beneath all of the animalistic biting and sucking. A type of secret message that only touch can decode, in which he’s reminding her that he loves her and loves how she makes him feel. That he wants her and only her and that alone, matched with the choppy jolts of his hips, is enough to send her spiraling.

When she comes, Harry wraps her up in his arms and cradles her to his chest, peppering her nose with his pursed lips as he nibbles her bottom one, whispering words of encouragement into her mouth for her to swallow, as well as his tongue.

“Such a nice girl fo’ me, Y/N. Fuck me like no one else ever has, all warm and snug and so soft, angel. Such a sweet angel– my only angel. ’M just happy getting you stuck to me. Happy having you on me and under me, taking m'cock so deep and loving it. Never wanna let you go.”

She spills with bright flashes of colors and bright webs of lightning behind her shut eyelids, going numb everywhere except for where Harry’s taking her in with his mouth. Along the side of her neck, in between her breasts, nipping at her shoulders and sucking at her chin. And when he himself is toppling messily over the edge, he still finds it in himself to encourage her– to keep her from waning on him.

“C'mon, peach, you’ve got it. Keep riding me for a bit longer. Jus’ a few more seconds…Tha’s my girl, Y/N. Gonna make me spill so much into you. I’m–’M gonna…fuck, so close, baby, so close. Little bit more! Squeeze, nice and hard fo’ me. Atta girl. Ahhh…”

Y/N hides her face into the junction between his throat and shoulder, but Harry wants to see her while it goes down. “Look at me, Y/N.”

She lifts her innocent gaze up shyly as she continues to bounce drunkenly on his prick, holding grueling eye contact and watching with bated breath as he rips at the seams, eyebrows furrowing and nose scrunching, jaw going slack as his eyes roll into the back of his head. “Yeah, yeah! Ooh, fuck me, moppet. Fuck me so bloody good, mmmh…”

Harry bursts with the air disintegrating in his lungs as his fingertips dig memeories into her hips, slamming her down onto him so hard he’s sure she’ll never feel empty ever again. He squirts out in thick, hot spurts that ooze out of her slowly as she plops her sweaty forehead against his bare, broad shoulder, revering in how he kisses at her ears gently and chuckles wistfully into her mussed, sweaty hair.

They sit there for a bit like that, with Harry still tucked inside Y/N (she'd switched off the cock ring as soon as he had finished) as he sways her back and forth gently, lips pressed in between her eyebrows, nose puffing air against the crown of her head and calves splayed over her own.  

“Y'know what’s funny?” Y/N speaks up all of the sudden, voice throaty from the toll of her screams.

“Hm?” Harry hums absentmindedly, too engrossed in rubbing away the soft crinkles in between her brows with his warm mouth.

“You call me an angel while we’re fucking.” She snorts, amused. “What a paradox, huh?”

“Your post-orgasm phase is such a philosophical one.” Harry grins all dopey and endeared, thumbing over her wet lips affectionately and snuggling her further into his chest. “All I can think about right now is that ice cream you mentioned.”

Y/N pouts with faux disappointment, mind still floating around the room. “No, but really, Harry.”

Harry sighs with surrender, blinking at her with amusement. “Y'wanna know what I have to say?”

“No, forget I even asked about it.” She deadpans sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

He gives her bottom a full spank, tutting in a playfully scolding manner. “Watch it.”

A raspy giggle escapes her throat and her hips give a tiny swivel, which in return results in him hissing in overstimulation, mumbling a squeaky, “cut it out.”

“Sure thing. Now tell me.”

“I think that…” Harry kinks one of his eyebrows up suggestively, tucking noodles of hair behind her ears and purposefully dragging out his response just to annoy her.

It works, the shove Y/N gives his shoulder proving it. “Finish already.”

“I think that even the nicest angel’s gotta tarnish her halo every once in a while.”