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tsumtsumrry · 2 months

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:((( thank you so so much 🤍🤍🤍

Film Bro

WC: 3.6k

warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, sexual content (dry humping, somno (so dubcon just to be safe; please only read what you're comfortable with!!)

“And that’s why I fully believe that movies are better than books.” Harry finishes his lengthy tangent with a deep breath. He looks over at your bored face and a beat passes before you both burst into laughter at how he’s managed to turn such a frivolous topic into such a serious and longwinded rant.

“You’re ridiculous and wrong.” You shoot back, offering him a close-lipped grin to soften the blow.

You and Harry have always had differing opinions, but somehow, you’ve still managed to become really close friends. You’re always bickering and getting into little spats over stupid things, but you still love him. He makes you laugh and he makes you feel loved and warm, everything you’d want in a friend. And you know what they say, opposites do attract.

His arm is slung around you, and both of you are sat down on his cozy couch as he tries to offer up a rebuttal to your rebuttal and all you do is roll your eyes and pretend to tune him out.

“You’ve got to understand, love. With books, you read it, yeah? And if you’ve got no imagination, what does that do for you? With movies, you can see, feel, hear everything. It’s so much more immersive and touching when you can see everything happening right in front of you.” His arms leave your shoulder so he can use his hands to talk, animatedly explaining to you why he believes you’re so wrong. He looks at your face for a second, when your features start to soften he smirks and points at you excitedly, “See I’m converting you! And you know I’m right.” He leans back with a smug grin.

You just shrug, “You can think whatever you want, film bro. But I know that books are the most immersive experience on earth. There is nothing like reading words on a page and feeling them hit you with every letter. The good part about books is that even if that author doesn’t completely spell it out for you, you can create a piece of that world yourself, something that’ll always be yours to have and to cherish. Nobody else’s.”

He looks up to the ceiling in thought, twisting his lips like he’s considering it. You think you’ve got him until he suddenly perks up and opens his mouth to speak, “Ah, but like I said, the imagination thing. Can’t do any of that if I’ve got a shit imagination.” That smug smirk is back on his face and you roll your eyes. Guess he can win this round. You’re so incredibly tired from work anyway and you just shrug which causes him to let out a small sound of victory.

“And I am right again…as always.” He flashes you his signature smirk and you grab a pillow from behind you and smack him hard with it.

“Dickwad.” you murmur.

“Hey!” he chokes out a laugh, grabbing the pillow from your hands and placing it behind him instead, “You’ve lost your privileges, sweet girl.” He chuckles softly because he knows you hate when he calls you that.

He brings his hand out to motion to the TV in front of you and then swings his arm right back around your shoulder, “see. Look at this.” He instructs. You’ve almost forgotten a movie was playing with how into the debate you’ve gotten with him. The scene on the TV flashes in your eyes, a couple making out hungrily and desperately.

The male actor is pawing at every piece of his co-star’s skin that he can find, and with every touch, her breath hitches and her leg hikes higher up on his waist. They kiss like this is the last time they’ll be able to. The soft moans and grunts coming from the scene make your pupils blow out and your chest tighten. Your thighs push together softly and you curse your body’s inability to stay in control.

Harry raises his eyebrows and gives you a slow once over with an amused smirk on his lips, “a book ever make you feel like that? This fast?” You know he’s only teasing you, but you’re so immersed in the scene that you can’t even find it in you to care when you shake your head.

“This is exactly what I mean. A book might describe a touch, but actually seeing it, seeing him touch her like that, seeing how she’s enjoying it, how she reacts to it, that’s just cinema. Can’t find that feeling anywhere else.”

His voice has lowered in volume and timbre to match the intimacy of the scene you’re both watching, and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of how close he’s gotten to you and how ridiculously loud those moans are. And if you weren’t a little turned on and a lot confused, you would laugh at it.

You become even more hyper-aware of his fingers on your shoulder, caressing softly, the slightest touch, and you have no idea why it’s making you feel hot. His calloused fingers somehow feel light and gentle as a feather when he traces his index finger on your shoulder. And he just keeps going. As if it’s nothing. As if it’s not driving you crazy.

You wonder if he knows what he’s doing. You’ve always known Harry to be touchy, but right now? It feels different, or maybe you’re feeling different. You don’t know, but it’s currently driving you a little crazy. That imagination you were so keen on before is really coming back to bite you in the ass when you start imagining the female lead to be you and the male lead to be…Harry.

And what even brought this on? He’s always been attractive, yes, but these thoughts racing through your head, that’s more than an acknowledgment of attractiveness.

He says your name softly, looking down at you curiously. You look up at him and latch on to the concerned look in his eyes, “you’re so quiet. What’s the matter? Mad I won again?” You can’t even fight the smile that graces your face and he mirrors you with a smile of his own.

“Haha.” you deadpan. “You literally wish.” A soft chuckle leaves him followed by a sigh. He knows you like the back of his hand. And he knows that you’re both kind of turned on and very exhausted, so he expertly takes control of the situation and pats your shoulder softly, “you sleeping over tonight?”

You nod softly, and he grunts as he tries to maneuver you up off of the couch, “come on. That’s it.” You really play into the damsel in distress bit (like you always do when he offers to take you to bed) and you let him lead your tired body to his bedroom.

He sets you down on his bed and snorts when you let your body flop onto the mattress. “I’m gonna have a shower. I know you’re gonna be passed out by the time I get back, so goodnight. Dream of really nice sex scenes. Like the one that’s got you so turned on right now—” He can barely finish his sentence before another pillow is being hurled at him.

“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry, Jesus. Gotta tie your hands together or something.” he speaks through a laugh. You just shoot him a bored look and he rolls his eyes and leans down to press a delicate kiss to your forehead.

“Night, sweet girl.”

You don’t even remember falling asleep, but you remember Harry getting into bed. The world-class cuddler’s arms were immediately wrapped around you after he got comfortable.

You figure it’s been about two hours when you start to stir. That’s always been a thing with you, waking up in the middle of the night and falling right back asleep. Harry usually lulls you back to sleep with a gentle forehead kiss and a tighter cuddle. You sleep much better when you stay over at his place. All feels right in the world when you’re in Harry’s arms. Something about him makes anyone he touches immediately feel at home. You cuddle up closer to him innocently, and he mumbles out your name.

You figure he must just be trying to coax you back to sleep, so you nod, barely awake, and drift back off into the comfortable safe haven that is sleeping next to a human angel.

Harry, on the other hand, is also in heaven. Just a different kind.

He’s fully immersed in a dream where you’re the object of all his desires, standing in front of him in a get-up that’s so sinful and alluring it’s got him begging for you to let him touch the masterpiece that is your body.

You tease him and torture him until he can’t take it anymore, trailing your hands across his soft skin, kissing his neck and his jaw, leaving marks that he knows will give him flashbacks of how you ruined him when he sees them tomorrow.

“God, please, sweet girl. Let me have you.” he’s begging. And Harry is definitely not one to beg, you’ve reduced him to a puddle of need, grasping at any part of you that he can get.

“Wouldn’t be much of a punishment if I did though, right?” You pout at him with faux sympathy dripping from your voice and expression like venom. He groans deeply again when you palm his clothed bulge, rubbing the slightest bit to where he gets stimulation, but not what he needs.

His breath hitches as you press harder for a moment before letting off, and then bringing your hand back to his bulge. He chokes out a soft groan, willing himself to endure your cruel punishment so he can have what he craves so badly.

“I’ve been s’good for you, baby. Don’t fuckin’ deserve this,” he whines out his words, desperate to the point that he has no shame in losing himself for you, in you. “I’ll do anything for you, sweet girl. Please.” His heart pounds, his eyes frantically searching yours for any sign of mercy.

His hips start to thrust up in tandem with your soft rubbing, frankly unable to control himself with how absolutely ruined you’ve got him. His voice starts to shatter when he speaks and his eyes squeeze shut when you swing your legs around his hips and sit comfortably on his lap.

He looks up at you with that fucked out, ruined expression and you pout at him again, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging just the way that he likes. Your hips move slowly against him like you’re testing the waters, and he immediately copies your movements, taking anything he can get from you, whining deeply in the back of his throat. He knows he’s leaking in his boxers and it would take nothing for him to explode right now.

You’re just so fucking sexy. Everything about you is like a tease to him. Your voice, your soft touch, that expression you make when you beat him in a debate, the expression you’re making right now as you take what’s rightfully yours. His cheeks flame a rosy pink as he looks up at you, his pupils blown and his cock throbbing with need.

His head rolls back as your hips start to meet faster, eyes heavy-lidded. He looks back up at you with a plead swimming in his irises, his hands balled into fists to avoid doing something he knows he shouldn’t. Your hips move faster and faster and faster….

He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, his hips rutting needily, but slowly against your ass. His arms are still wrapped around you as he pulls you closer into him, his abs flexing as he uses your body to relieve the deep pressure in his gut.

Small moans and whimpers leave his lips, occasionally your name. Both of you are still fast asleep as he works himself into an absolute frenzy, his face is buried in your neck, shaky puffs of breath hitting your skin. Images of him worshipping your body and the feeling of that delicious friction on his throbbing cock are all that his brain can register right now.

The feeling of your soft cotton shorts and your supple ass consumes him as he trembles gently with every thrust, his cock sensitive from the slow teasing game his body is inflicting on him. What was once soft sighs, turn to slightly louder, more needy sounds. He mumbles and slurs out incoherent words through his bliss, probably some variation of what he’s saying to you in his dream.

It’s not even the movement that wakes you, it’s those sounds, those unabashed needy little noises that he’s making. Your eyes fly open and a small gasp rips through your throat and you register three things at once.

Harry’s the one making those sounds.

Harry’s arms are wrapped tightly around you as he rubs himself against your ass.

And your thighs are sticky and warm with your arousal.

Your first instinct is to freak out a little, considering you’ve just woken up to one of your closest friends getting themselves off on you. But then you turn your head around the slightest bit and you realize, he’s still asleep.

The poor baby’s worked himself up somehow and doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, doesn’t realize how needy he is. His face wears a tortured expression, his eyebrows arched and pushed tightly together. The desperate soft sounds continue to leave his slightly parted lips and all you can think about in this moment is how much you want to kiss his lips, soft and bitten.

Honestly, you’re at a loss of what to do in this situation. Do you wake him? Do you let him keep going until he ruins his pants? Do you just will yourself to go back to sleep and pretend this never happened? You know that last one’s definitely not going to work considering how ridiculously turned on you are. With every thrust against your ass, an onslaught of butterflies assault your stomach and you feel the pool in your underwear only getting wetter.

You don’t want to stop him.

“S..sweet girl.” He’s dreaming about you. Your entire body melts into a puddle when he mumbles out that petname that you pretend to hate.

Being the good friend you are, you figure you could at least help him along.

Your arm manages to break free from his hold and you use it as leverage to get your body to turn around to face him, once he loses his friction, a deep sound of disappointed leaves him and his brows fall, a pout gracing his face. His hips move in frustration as he tries to gain back the friction and you can’t help but feel bad for him.

“Harry.” you take ahold of his shoulder and shake him gently, “Harry.”

His body twitches a little in response to you rousing him and you smile gently, “Harry.”

His eyes flutter open and when he’s met with your eyes staring into his, for a moment he only looks disoriented, a little confused and grumpy that he’s being woken up. But then his eyes widen and you swear if it wasn’t so dark in his room you’d see every bit of pigment drain from his face.

“Shit. Oh my god.” It doesn’t take him long to figure out why you’ve woken him up. He’s so hard, sensitive, and it feels like he could come at any moment. And you’re looking at him like that.

“I’m so sorry. Holy shit I’m really really—I didn’t know what I was—” you don’t let him slur out anything else before you pull his lips into yours, kissing him with the same desperation that you can feel radiating off of his body.

You pull away from his lips with a soft click and his expression when you’re eye to eye again is one you know you’re going to commit to memory. He’s looking at you like you hung the moon and stars. You can still see that subtle frustration in his eyes though, you know he’s fighting to keep his hips under control. You hike your leg up so it rests over his hip and inhale deeply once your crotches are pressed together, “keep going. It’s okay.” You reassure him.

He stares at you for a moment as if he’s unsure, and you nod, scooting closer to him and encouraging him to put his hands back on you, “it’s okay, baby.”

Your soothing, yet sensual whisper of that name is what breaks him. His hips roll one slow thrust against your core and his jaw falls open in a deep groan. Your breath hitches at the feeling, you didn’t realize how sensitive you were until you felt him move against you, and fuck, you’re really sensitive.

His breathing gets heavier as he continues to fuck himself against your cunt, maintaining eye contact with you as he loses himself in the white hot pleasure that’s tormenting every part of his body. It feels so much deeper than normal, it feels like you’re everywhere all at once, and he’s not even inside you. You guys are merely dry humping on his bed but it somehow feels like the most intense thing that he’s ever experienced.

He says your name and you hum to let him know you’re listening, “you feel so fucking good. How do you feel this good?” he sounds out of his mind with pleasure. You can’t even find the words to respond to him so you just nod quickly and lean into to capture his lips with yours again. He moans into the kiss and his hands shoot to your hips to urge you faster against him and pull you closer.

It feels like he can’t get enough of you, like he can’t get close enough. His hands reach for every sliver of skin he can find, his lips attack your jaw and neck, leaving marks on you just like you did to him in his dream. Every kiss he leaves is frantic, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. Continuous praises leave his lips, like he has to show you how grateful he is.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Feel so soft.”

“So much fucking better than my dreams.”

“Fucking perfect.”

“Can’t believe you’re this wet from me using you like that. Filthy fucking thing.” he’s losing his restraint and you can absolutely tell, the way he’s talking to you, looking at you, thrusting against you, he’s letting go in the best way. He’s just doing what he knows will feel best for the both of you.

“Such a good girl. Taking me like this, fuck.”

You whimper softly as the tip of his cock bumps against your sensitive mound through the confines of your clothes. Originally you just wanted to get him off, but you find yourself chasing that release to, and it’s building faster than you thought. He feels amazing. With every deep grind against your cunt he drives you further and further into a pleasure induced oblivion. You should be embarrassed at the sounds leaving you and how you’re already so close, but it just feels too damn good to care.

“Harry…fuck.” you grip tightly onto his pajama shirt, grasping at whatever you can to ground yourself with the way you feel like you’re floating off the ground right now.

“Love the way you say my fucking name.” the words fall out of his mouth in a desperate whine, his hips move faster and needier and he buries his face in your neck to cope with all the sensations. He lifts his head up the slightest bit so his mouth is positioned right next to your ear and a full body shiver wracks through your body when he speaks, “need you to come for me, sweet girl. Can you do that for me? Know you’re close.”

“So close, baby please.” you babble out, your hips moving together in a frantic rhythm to reach your climax. He encourages you with desperate words that sound more like whimpers and uses his firm grip on your hips to drive you harder against him.

It builds and builds until everything in you draws up taut like a bow, you shudder through the release and Harry can’t keep his eyes off of your expression as he gently pushes you through it.

“Gonna make me make a mess in my fuckin’ pants, fuck.” You fight through the painful pleasure of overstimulation as he chases his release, focusing in on the way he almost looks pained as he works himself against you so desperately.

A rushed whisper of, “m’coming” leaves him before his thrusts grow sloppier and rougher. His mouth falls open as needy, filthy noises leave his lips. He practically sings your praises as he makes a mess on the both of you, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck to ground himself as he works through a powerful release.

“Sweet girl.” he whispers after a moment of silence, bringing his face out of your neck to look at you. His hands come up to caress your cheek, blowing out a breath from his mouth like he’s in awe of you.

“Hi.” you whisper back, “that was….”

“Yeah.” he finishes. A small chuckle leaving his lips at how awkward you two are making this.

You’re unsure what to say for a moment and you look away, but his fingers grab your chin, “don’t do that. I like looking at you.”

You look away again in pure shyness and he laughs and forces your eye contact again, “don’t!” he speaks through his laugh.

He leans down to kiss you and a pleased hum leaves both of your lips, he barely disconnects from you before he starts to speak, “you believe me now, right?”

“What do you mean?” you whisper.

“Movies are better than books.”

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tsumtsumrry · 3 months

Text

Second Visit

the long-awaited heavily requested part two of Doctor's Orders

WC: 3.4k

warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, casual dominance, sexual content (fingering and f receiving oral sex), extremely inappropriate relationship with gynecologist (remember this is only fiction!)

finally decided to finish the draft that i loved but's been sitting in a google doc for like months. i really hope you guys enjoy it. i’m always a lover of feedback. 🤍🤍🤍

Your chest is pumping rapidly as you fight through your nerves. Last time you were in this exact seat, you had no idea what was to come. And now that you do, it’s all you can think about. Truthfully since then, it’s all you’ve been able to think about. Day and night your head replays the image, sounds, and the feeling of him. The phantom of his fingers deep inside you, hitting every spot that you hadn’t known existed, tortures you every time you can get a moment to yourself.

He’s your doctor. It even feels wrong to think about it, but something about it feeling wrong feels so damn right.

You return to the familiar feeling of picking at your fingers to quell your nerves as your head and your body fight each other for what you should do next. You came here on a mission, you wanted him. You needed him. There isn’t even anything wrong with you, realistically you shouldn’t even be here. But it felt like you were going through withdrawal symptoms. His touch was like a psychedelic drug. The kind of feeling that leaves you feeling like you’re seeing the world through a kaleidoscope exploding with colors and euphoria. And since you’ve felt it once, you don’t think you can ever go back.

The door opens and your heart drops, thinking it’s the lady coming out to call your name, but what you see is arguably much scarier.

Dr. Styles, looking down at his phone as he holds open the door for the nurse behind him with his left arm. He smiles and a small chuckle leaves his lips as he reads whatever is on his phone, the dimples that pop in his cheeks nearly make you melt and you try your best not to look at him before he notices you.

In all your nerves, you don’t realize your purse is slipping off of your lap. Before you can stop it, it tumbles off of your lap and falls to the floor with an audible crash. Your eyes fall shut in embarrassment and you open them just in time to see his head snap up in confusion and then soften in recognition.

You nearly hold your breath as a sly smile graces his face and he walks over to you. As soon as he reaches you, he kneels so he’s at eye level with your stomach, using your knee as support, and begins to pick up your bag and the things that fell out of it. Even just the simple touch of his hand on your knee makes a zip of electricity course through your body right to your core. You take in a shaky breath and the lightning strikes in the same place twice when he looks up at you to speak, “Hi honey…back so soon? Everything okay?” His hand remains on your knee as he speaks, still kneeling before you as his piercing green eyes bore into yours.

“I um…” Your brain fails to send the necessary signals to your mouth as you look at him and he frowns. He assumes that you might be embarrassed to talk about it in front of everyone else in the waiting room. His eyebrows furrow while the look in his eyes intensifies with concern, he clicks his tongue and pushes himself to stand up, “Let’s go talk in my office, sweetheart.”

It feels like you’re operating on auto-pilot as he walks the two of you to his office, his hand resting on the small of your back. Your mind swims with the things he could do to you when you get in there, you wonder if he’ll use his fingers again, or his mouth, maybe he’ll put you out of your misery and let you have all of him. You’d take anything that he gives you, you’re that desperate.

He sits you down on the chair in his office, and stands in front of you, maintaining that piercing eye contact. The deep, tingly feeling in your tummy swells when he offers you a comforting grin. “Wha’s the matter, honey. You know you can tell me, always.”

It’s a certain degree of embarrassing how much you’ve thought about him since you’ve last been here. And you aren’t an idiot, it occurred to you that maybe the only reason you were so hung up on him was that you missed somebody else’s touch in general. So you ventured out, tried to meet someone and have a casual hookup, you followed through, and they disappointed. Dr. Styles felt like he was on another level, completely in tune with your pleasure and what you needed. He played your body as if it were an instrument and he was the most talented musician in the world.

You don’t realize that you are lost in your thoughts until you hear the soft timbre of his voice again, “hm? Talk to me.”

You take a deep breath and try your absolute hardest not to stumble through your words, but they almost feel like poison as they leave your lips. Shyness has always been a considerable part of your nature and it doesn’t help that the most intimidating man in the world is standing in front of you, staring intensely at you with those deep green eyes. “It’s just um…ever since my last appointment, I’ve been like–I think–” you grumble in frustration and a wave of hot embarrassment tinges your cheeks. You look down at your worn fingers, breaking eye contact. You’re afraid that if you looked at him any longer you might die.

A small chuckle leaves his lips and he sighs softly. Somehow, your heart begins to beat impossibly faster when he leans off of his desk to approach you. You keep your head down, unable to look him in the eye again and you attempt to control your shaky breathing.

Your breath stutters and then stops when he hooks his index finger under your chin to regain your eye contact. Your eyes flutter closed briefly. God, you’ve missed that soft touch. It feels as if your body has finally come back to life after being dormant since you two have been apart. You have to fight back a sated sigh as his thumb begins to stroke your chin softly and you wish you dared to tell him to just fuck you already.

His fingers squeeze your chin with a deliberate grip and your eyes quickly open. You’ve noticed that he enjoys eye contact, thrives on it. He likes to see you get nervous for him, he likes to see you fall apart. He derives pleasure from the way you can barely look at him without breaking, so he forces you to break. And truth be told, you love it. You’d break for him any day.

“Look at me when we’re speaking, honey. Just breathe. Then be my good girl and use your words. You know I can’t help you unless you use that pretty mouth and talk to me, yeah?” He punctuates his words when his thumb brushes against your lip in delicate strokes. You honestly have no idea where he got the insane idea that you can even think, much less form words when he’s touching you like that.

When you just stare at him, with a pathetic longing look in your eyes, his fingers come down to squeeze your chin again, only this time much firmer, “Speak. Don’t make me ask you again, sweetheart.”

“S-sorry I just…I’ve missed you.” Is all you’re able to string together, it sounds incredibly stupid out loud but you have a feeling he knows exactly what you mean. His eyebrows raise before they relax back down and his grip on your chin loosens back to gentle.

“Oh baby, don’t apologize. You’ve missed me, hm? Mind telling me what exactly it is that you’ve missed?” his expression morphs into a teasing smirk as he rolls his lips inside his mouth. His eyes read like he knows exactly what you’ve missed, but he just wants to hear you say it.

His gaze is intense as he reads your expression carefully, analyzing you for any signs that you might not want what he thinks you want. He traces his gaze from your eyes to your mouth, the delicate pout you wear almost makes him melt right in the spot he stands in. From the moment he saw you he thought that you were one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen. It’s like all of your unique features perfectly coexist in a teasing harmony. It makes him weak.

It takes a lot out of you, but you’re able to tell him exactly what you missed. When he hears you, his jaw clenches, he maintains eye contact and you force yourself to keep looking no matter how much your anxiety is screaming at you to look away. For a second you wonder if you’ve done something wrong with the way he’s just looking at you, making no move to touch you and give you what you need, but that worry is melted away quickly when he speaks again.

He offers his hand out to you with a blank expression. Albeit confused, you place your hand in his. His dimples pop in his cheeks at your almost demure nature and he smirks softly, “Show me. Show me where it hurts, honey. Take my hand and show me.” His voice is smooth like toffee, filled with a syrupy heat that makes your panties pool.

His eyes migrate to the silky smooth skin of your thighs, suddenly grateful that you wore a skirt today so he could admire your beauty and have easy access to give you what he knows you’re so desperate for.

Tremors plague your hand as you slowly guide him to your throbbing core. The tension in the room is palpable, it’s so quiet that the only sounds in the room are Harry’s soft but strained breathing and your erratic breaths.

When his fingertips finally reach your clothed warmth he groans in appreciation. Truth be told, he missed you too. “Fuck, atta girl. So good for me, aren’t you?” Your eyes flutter closed in relief and you nod mindlessly. It’s incredible how he can completely remove any thoughts other than himself or his touch from your mind so easily. And he’s so casual about it too, so nonchalant about the way he pulverizes your brain and turns you into a brainless toy, just for him.

“How many times have you thought about this since the last time, honey? How many times were you knuckle deep in this needy cunt wishing that it was me instead? Tell me.” His fingers brush against your entrance and he slowly pushes two fingers in, pulsing them against your spot as soon as he finds it just to see you shudder. The gruffness of his voice accompanied by the gentle mocking tone makes your brain melt even further, your eyes roll back and you hear him chuckle at your lack of response.

“Mm, honey.” He mocks. “Already? S’already too much for you, baby?” you can feel him slipping his fingers out as he speaks, and the utter dread you feel knowing that the empty feeling you’ve been plagued with is going to come back makes you want to cry, and you know how truly pathetic that is, but you can’t find it in yourself to really care. He pulls his fingers out gently, bringing them up to his mouth to wrap his lips around them and suck needily.

“N-no no, please. Please?” you’re too shy to vocalize exactly what you’re begging for, but you know he knows. Harry always knows exactly what you need.

“See tha’s your problem. You’re not too keen on using your words. And we’re gonna fix that right now.” Without much of a warning, his fingers are back inside you. You choke on a harsh gasp that melts right into a moan when he begins to fuck you relentlessly with them, targetting your spot and ruining you from the inside out. His other hand comes into play when he places two fingers on your clit and rubs it in tantalizing circles.

Harry’s knees land on the floor when his face becomes level with your cunt, he leans in and lets his eyes flutter closed as if he’s savoring the smell of you, “I need to taste you, baby. You smell so fuckin’ good.”

A slew of rushed and needy pleas leave your mouth as you stumble over whiney moans, “please, Doct—” his eyes snap up to meet your gaze, and his eyebrows furrow in disapproval, “Harry. Please, Harry.”

The tone of your voice when you say his name sends a zip of electricity down to his confined cock and a needy moan of appreciation leaves his lips as they finally make contact with your core, planting a searing kiss at your entrance.

He groans like he’s relieved, like he’s finally getting what he’s been starving for for so long. You can’t help the way that feeds your ego. He’s been wanting you, needing you, yearning for you. “Tastes so good, baby. D’you know how good you taste?” he whispers.

“Speak.” His other hand plants a small tap on your thigh, not hard enough to really hurt, but intentional enough to serve as a warning.

“N-no.” You mumble.

“No?” you almost want to cry again as he pulls his fingers out and that dreaded empty feeling returns. His eyes are locked on how wet you’ve got his fingers like he’s in a trance and you swear you almost hear him sigh in contentment. He snaps out of his reverie and looks up at you, when he sees a pout he shushes you softly and brings his fingers up to your lips. He taps them there once before you part them like the good girl he knows you are. His fingers slowly enter your mouth and you suck softly on them almost as if it’s out of instinct, “atta girl” he praises lowly.

“See? So good.” He starts to nod and like his brainless toy, you nod with him. Taking in every cue of his praise that you can grasp.

You don’t even realize his fingers are inching back down to your core until a gasp rips through your throat and they’re inside you again, his mouth back on your clit like it never left. He’s greedy as he devours you. He drinks you in and takes you like he needs it to breathe. Honestly, you’re not even sure he is breathing right now. But he doesn’t seem to care, he just keeps going, keeps flicking his tongue softly on your clit and fucking his tongue into you, holding your hip with one hand to make sure that you can’t get away.

And last time, when it was just his fingers, it felt perfect. He pushed you just enough for you the feel that mind-breaking bliss that you’ve been chasing since your last visit. But now, with his perfect tongue and his perfect fingers making you feel so fucking perfect. It’s almost too much.

“Fuck, Harry. S’too–too much.”

“Mm-mm” He groans disapprovingly, “I know baby, I know it feels a little too good honey but you can take it. I know you can take it.”

He starts to go harder as if you’re not about to explode and the sounds that leave your lips should make you feel embarrassed, but with every stroke of his fingers and his tongue. All thoughts of reservation are gone, and you just want to lose yourself in him.

“Squeezin’ me so tight, honey. Gonna come for me? Been working so hard for it baby. Give me what I deserve. Give yourself what you deserve. Come on.” he rambles on and on as he pushes you to your peak, not offering you any kind of break from the way he’s ruining you with his fingers and his tongue. You’d think that he was the one getting head the way he was moaning against your core, the vibrations only increase the pleasure tenfold and you start to tremble through the sensations.

And when it hits you, it hits you. You shake in an almost violent way, so much so that he has to manuver his hands to hold you properly so that you don’t collapse onto the floor. His tongue parts from you so he can stand up and he lets his fingers pulse inside you to help you ride out the intense wave of pleasure that has needy whines and pathetic whimpers leaving your throat, “atta fuckin’ girl. So good for me. You’re so beautiful.” he whispers out a bunch of sweet nothings as he leaves soft kisses all over any part of exposed skin that he can find, leaving the residue of your pleasure in his wake.

You feel like you’re floating, like you’re laying on a bed of clouds and all you can comprehend is the pleasure still coursing through your veins, Harry’s soft voice, Harry’s soft kisses. It’s only now that you realize how much trouble you’re truly in, you don’t think you can go without this. It just gets better every time.

“Sweet just like honey. My honey, so fucking beautiful.” He praises. A sated smile graces your face and for a couple of moments, you forget where you are. You forget that he’s your doctor and you’re his patient and you let yourself live in the fantasy where Harry is yours and you get to come home to those hauntingly beautiful green eyes every night.

It dawns on you that this could very well be the last time, so you decide you’d like to make it count.

“Harry.” you mumble, bringing your hands up to tangle in his hair which he groans at, he closes his eyes and smiles, his head following the movement of your hands.

“Mm, yes honey?”

You really cannot chicken out now. You know that if you do you’re going to regret it. You’re never going to forgive yourself for how you had the opportunity to fuck this gorgeous man and passed it up to live the rest of your life wondering how it would’ve felt.

So no matter how hard it is for you to say, you force it out.

“Fuck me. Please.”

You almost regret it when it leaves your lips at the way he freezes up and immediately meets your pleading gaze. And then he smiles, which morphs into a teasing smirk, and you think you’ve got him, that is until he opens his mouth.

“Sweet girl. My job is to take care of you. And I did, yeah?” Your heart stings a little at the rejection but you nod nonetheless, eager to please him, “don’t need you doing me any favors, honey.

Your brows furrow at this, a favor? In what world would him fucking you be doing him a favor. If you had any less dignity you’d get on your knees right now and beg and plead for him until he gave you what you so desperately craved.

“S’not a favor. I want it….so much.” you whisper that last part. He sees your needy pout and he mirrors your expression in an almost condescending way.

“Are you telling me I haven’t taken care of you right, honey? Do you need more? Is that it? Doctor Styles need a lesson on how to treat his girl proper?” Theres a teasing lilt to his voice as he speaks, a dimple popping in his cheeks as he smirks and awaits your answer. You nod and he tsks softly, a gentle reminder for you to speak.

“No. You haven’t and I really really need more.”

“Hm. Tell you what. I’m not fucking you for the first time in my office. Ask a guy out to dinner first.” He watches your face as the small quip lands and a small chuckle leaves his lips as you roll your eyes, “but…I can pay my favorite patient a little house visit, and we can go from there.”

His squeezes your hips with firm hands and drops his head into your neck, sucking a soft mark on the exposed skin, his hips shift against yours softly and a shaky breath leaves his occupied lips, “Can’t wait. God only knows how much I need you.” he whispers the last sentence as if he’s scared to say them any louder and your eyes flutter closed at the unspoken promise of how he’s going to take care of you again, and properly this time.

He taps your hips once and leaves one last kiss on your skin, “I’ll see you then. Drive safe, looking forward to your next appointment, honey.”

#harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry smut #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagines #harry styles dirty imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec

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tsumtsumrry · 3 months

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lovesick—a blurb

drunk!h is awful.

and not in the sense that everyone hates to be around him, because he’s actually fun, he promises! but sober harry’s feelings are heightened when he’s drunk and he goes from a little bit needy to a lovesick puppy who always needs to touch his girl, and it’s a weakness that people love to tease him for but he doesn’t really care!

y/n loves him, but drunk!harry really is awful. it sounds cute and sweet to have someone dote on you and she does find it cute and sweet! don’t hate her or think she’s a bit of a bitch because she’s certainly not. but what she doesn’t find cute or sweet is a lovesick needy boyfriend who follows her to the bathroom!

“y’so pretty,” harry coo’s at her and his hand won’t leave her face alone, she’s flitted it away a few times but he always comes back so she stopped, “have i ever told y’tha before?”

“you have. . several times tonight infact,” she replies and harry grins, “i’m tryin’ to piss, h.”

“m’not stopping you,” his hands found their way into her hair and he hums, “so soft.”

she huffs and grabs his hand, entwining their fingers, “jus’ hold my hand for now, okay?”

“m’kay. . i love you.”

“i love you too, even though you’re a pain.”

he really is a pain, can you blame her?!

and god, another time she didn’t go out with harry because she wasn’t feeling up for a night out, and when he came back home he was acting as if they had been separated for months! he wouldn’t leave her alone, as soon as he stumbled through the door he was straight into their bedroom.

y/n was in bed, hair pulled back, dressed in her nightwear—harry’s shirt— and a book in her hands. he wore a big toothy grin and he clumsily stripped down into his boxers before climbing into bed and embracing his girl.

her book was long forgotten as his arms were around her and he was showering her in kisses.

“missed you,” he hums and barely takes a breath until he had kissed every inch of her face and neck.

“you were gone three hours,” a smile plays on her lips as he pulls away.

“three long hours without my lovie,” he says and undoes her hair letting the loose strands fall over her shoulders, “m’so tired.”

y/n flicks the lamp off and they lay in bed. she lays on his chest and he plays with her curls, “three hours was too long. . y’never leavin’ me for tha’ long again.”

“i don’t think i could ever leave you h,” she laughs and harry smiles to himself, “i think you’ve got me for life.”

so yeah. . y/n could downplay it as much as she wants and she could definitely act annoyed, but during those sweet moments she thought maybe drunk!h wasn’t so awful after all.

that was until of course they went out again and he did the exact same thing. then yeah, drunk!h was awful.

#this is soooo :(((#he’s awful but i love him #so cute

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tsumtsumrry · 3 months

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this is art

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tsumtsumrry · 4 months

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this just scratches an itch in my brain

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tsumtsumrry · 4 months

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thank you so much for adding favorite holiday in here!! i’m so so happy you enjoyed 🤍🤍

my favorite fics, vol 6

it’s been a while since the last time i posted a fic rec masterpost ! here are my favorite fics i’ve read recently (i’m doing one for tom soon) enjoy !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

fluff:

perception by @goldengalore

harry styles talking about his girlfriend for 16 minutes by @astranva

afterparty by @chaoticloving

favorite holiday by @tsumtsumrry (has smut)

knight in shinning armor by @fetusharryluvr

just called to say i love you by @harrywritingsbyme

bad habit by @ifancyharry

maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two by @itsallyscorner

when you fall in love by @avatar-anna

serendipity by @adorebeaa (has smut and angst)

pinky swear by @inyourhaven

italy by @bonesandchalamet

5 ways harry mentions you on stage by @glitteredrry

my love, we were in paris by @alonetimelover

sweet nothings by @pancakes4two

get enough by @theshyspy

this insta blurb by @llvstrous099

dynamic by @mydearesthrry

the pact by @harryslittlefreakk

oh, i think she said by @justmeinatree

routines by @elioslover

coffee talk by @itsallyscorner

finally a dad by @flwrsforu

bo peep by @haarrrys

this by @harryyskiwii

angst:

little freak by @goldenbuckyyy

i wish i could change by @cowboy-like-mee

argument by @secret-rendezvous1d

don’t let me down by @itsprashimusic

false god by @sleepyhollands

airport chaos by @musicforastylesrestaurant

this by @alonetimelover

if you love something by @writingsfromhome

home is a feeling by @adore-laur

smut:

italian sun by @harry-on-broadway

no guarantee by @allofurlove

we fight, we make up by @strawnarrries

bad idea, right? by @atharryshouse

private show by @stylesharrys

bad idea right by @lukesaprince

under his bed by @gurugirl

tease by @eveningepiphany

just a little taste by @stylescine

series:

begin again by @sweetcherryharry

ifall for harry by @freedomfireflies

the divorce by @butdaddyilovehim-hs

stages of grief by @missmielyhoran

somebody else by @harrystylescherry

ms honey by @solarisstyles

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tsumtsumrry · 4 months

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thank u thank u thank u 🤍🤍🤍🤍

Film Bro

WC: 3.6k

warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, sexual content (dry humping, somno (so dubcon just to be safe; please only read what you're comfortable with!!)

“You’re ridiculous and wrong.” You shoot back, offering him a close-lipped grin to soften the blow.

His arm is slung around you, and both of you are sat down on his cozy couch as he tries to offer up a rebuttal to your rebuttal and all you do is roll your eyes and pretend to tune him out.

“And I am right again…as always.” He flashes you his signature smirk and you grab a pillow from behind you and smack him hard with it.

“Dickwad.” you murmur.

And what even brought this on? He’s always been attractive, yes, but these thoughts racing through your head, that’s more than an acknowledgment of attractiveness.

“Night, sweet girl.”

You don’t even remember falling asleep, but you remember Harry getting into bed. The world-class cuddler’s arms were immediately wrapped around you after he got comfortable.

You figure he must just be trying to coax you back to sleep, so you nod, barely awake, and drift back off into the comfortable safe haven that is sleeping next to a human angel.

Harry, on the other hand, is also in heaven. Just a different kind.

“God, please, sweet girl. Let me have you.” he’s begging. And Harry is definitely not one to beg, you’ve reduced him to a puddle of need, grasping at any part of you that he can get.

Harry’s the one making those sounds.

Harry’s arms are wrapped tightly around you as he rubs himself against your ass.

And your thighs are sticky and warm with your arousal.

You don’t want to stop him.

“S..sweet girl.” He’s dreaming about you. Your entire body melts into a puddle when he mumbles out that petname that you pretend to hate.

Being the good friend you are, you figure you could at least help him along.

“Harry.” you take ahold of his shoulder and shake him gently, “Harry.”

His body twitches a little in response to you rousing him and you smile gently, “Harry.”

He stares at you for a moment as if he’s unsure, and you nod, scooting closer to him and encouraging him to put his hands back on you, “it’s okay, baby.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Feel so soft.”

“So much fucking better than my dreams.”

“Fucking perfect.”

“Such a good girl. Taking me like this, fuck.”

“Harry…fuck.” you grip tightly onto his pajama shirt, grasping at whatever you can to ground yourself with the way you feel like you’re floating off the ground right now.

It builds and builds until everything in you draws up taut like a bow, you shudder through the release and Harry can’t keep his eyes off of your expression as he gently pushes you through it.

“Hi.” you whisper back, “that was….”

“Yeah.” he finishes. A small chuckle leaving his lips at how awkward you two are making this.

You’re unsure what to say for a moment and you look away, but his fingers grab your chin, “don’t do that. I like looking at you.”

You look away again in pure shyness and he laughs and forces your eye contact again, “don’t!” he speaks through his laugh.

He leans down to kiss you and a pleased hum leaves both of your lips, he barely disconnects from you before he starts to speak, “you believe me now, right?”

“What do you mean?” you whisper.

“Movies are better than books.”

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tsumtsumrry · 4 months

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oh my goodness thank u so much 🤍🤍

my masterlist 🤍

tiny disclaimer: everything here is stuff that has been posted on this account, to find any of my old stuff that hasn't been posted here you'd have to go to my old account ch3rrybabyhon3y. i would post everything here but i'd feel so annoying flooding the tags lol. if there's anything specific you'd like to see/read again, send me an ask and i'll be more than happy to post it. kisses.

ordered from new to old 🤍

indicators: smut ☆ fluff ❁ angst ♪

one-shots:

Film Bro: in which sleepy best friend Harry gets a little too worked up while you guys cuddle. ☆☆❁

You don’t want to stop him.

Favorite Holiday: in which you and Harry are friends with benefits ☆❁ ♪

"He plans to take you home tonight, you can tell. You two have been going at this for months, the no-strings-attached sex thing. You think it’s easy enough. There’s never been any real difficulties, just the fact that you’re trying to keep it discreet.

The first kiss was at the New Years party. You were both tipsy, he confessed that he always had a little fixation on you and how you looked in “all those pretty outfits you like to wear” and you confessed that him and his “fancy british accent”, “pretty tattoos”, and “ridiculously charming personality” never failed to have you imagining kissing those incredibly soft looking lips.

He looked at you for a second, his gaze moving from your lips to your eyes as if he was trying to gauge where your head was at. Then, at the perfect timing, the clock turned twelve and your lips were intertwined. The rest is history."

Sex Therapist: in which Harry helps you out a bit, and he's not actually a sex therapist. (but he might as well be)☆❁

"“Maybe you need someone familiar.”

You can tell he almost regretted it when he said it, but there was also something of what seemed like determination in his eyes. You can only imagine the mental battle he’s having right now.

“Someone…familiar?” You say, your tone is nothing less than breathless.

“Mhm…someone you know, someone you trust, someone that can take care of you.” You know Harry’s noticed your change in breathing, the way you tried to subtly press your thighs together, you know he’s noticed and that’s why his voice has lowered to a calculated sultry tone that you know he only reserves for times like this. He’s downright seducing you and you don’t seem to have a problem with it, “any ideas?”

Good Boy: in which harry is a brat. ☆❁

"“So sit down, and listen to me like a good boy.” she says, watching as Harry rolls his eyes. She scoffs because she knows it’s all an act, but also because she knows he’ll regret this later, when he’s on his second denial and begging her to just ‘please, baby let me come’. She knows he’ll regret it.

“No? This is how we’re doing it tonight? Alright then.” She loves it when Harry is soft and submissive and just does whatever she wants off the bat, but she can’t deny the fun in making him submit. She knows he loves it too.

Harry, is on cloud nine, he loves this, he lives for it. Being forced to submit, making her hurt him. Gives him a high like no other, really gets him going. Sometimes he regrets being smart with her when he’s on third orgasm, or his third denied orgasm, but still, he loves it."

Morning After: in which you wake up next to harry after your first night together. ☆❁

"They had sex for the first time.

In no way were they virgins, but it was just as special as anyone’s first time. She had been holding off on having sex with anyone since her last relationship, scared to give all she had to someone only for them to hurt her and walk away like her ex did. She never wanted to feel that pain again.

She was dead-set on becoming a nun before Harry found her and swept her off her feet. He loved and cared for her, showing her he would never hurt her like her ex did. It took some time, but she finally learned to trust Harry. And as soon as her walls broke down, she loved and trusted him fully. She gave her all to him.

Harry wasn’t expecting from her, he just wanted to love her. So when the opportunity came to love on her, there’s no way he could’ve passed that up."

Piper: in which sub-harry let's go. ☆❁

"Piper shakes her head at his pout and opens her mouth to speak, “I have an idea.“

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and his pout lessens a little bit, “wha’ is it?” He’s talking slower and thicker due to how overcome with lust he is and Piper fight the urge to shift her thighs at the sound of it.

“Well…” she pauses to give him a slow kiss, “you’ve been working so hard lately, been so good. Was thinking I could dedicate a night to just you. Hmm? Make you cum so hard you see stars?”

Harry’s mouth parts slightly at her words and he tries to prevent his eyes from rolling back into his head at the butterflies that just swarmed through every part of his body."

Alexa: in which you're an assistant for one direction ❁♪

"“Do you want a coffee or something? I feel weird just standing here without getting you something…” Alexa mumbles and Harry’s face falls. Her words served a (very) painful reminder that she just worked for him. She was forced to be around him. Doesn’t mean she liked him. After all she only came up to him because Niall told her he needed help with something. Harry feels pathetic.

“No…no thank you.” he murmurs and Alexa nods quickly and turns on her heel to walk away.

Harry doesn’t understand why he can’t just talk to her. Every other “employee” feels like a friend (or even family) to him. Why can’t he cross that line with the one person he wants to?"

She: in which we dream with harry ❁☆♪

"The drive of his life, where his passion is derived from. He wouldn’t be where he is without her.

Some people may say it’s foolish to be so codependent on a dream, but he doesn’t see anything wrong with it. As long as he keeps seeing her when he closes his eyes, he’s at peace.

He imagines the color of her skin, the smoothness of her body, the volume of her hair, the sound of her voice. Every day he imagines it all. Every day he dreams about it."

Laura: in which you've had enough. ♪♪

"She hates herself for feeling weak, for showing him any emotion. She’s stuck between wanting him to know that he’s hurting her and not wanting to give him the power to know that he has any affect on her at all.

“You keep acting like you didn’t know how it was going to b-” Harry starts, but Laura interjects with an angry incredulous tone, feeling like if this were a cartoon you would surely see the steam coming out from her ears.

“Are you kidding me? This isn’t how it was when it first started, even when you were doing the first album, hell, even when you were on fucking tour! This is an us thing, this isn’t just a ‘studio’ thing and you know it!”

blurbs/asks:

sub ceo harry ❁☆

friends to lovers h ❁❁

sex with h headcannons ☆❁

friends to lovers angst ♪❁

sub bestfriendrry finding your vibe ☆❁

request that's basically just porn (lol) ☆☆

subby co-worker harry ☆☆

enjoy to all your heart's content. love you loads and loads. kisses. 🤍

#i have to write more omg #need to start writing again 😓

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