in which y/n can't orgasm and harry is a helpful ex-friend with benefits.
word count: 3.3k
content warnings: mentions of depression/mental health and anti-depressants, discussions of reduced libido, smut (phone sex, mentions of sex toys, dirty talk, description of group sex and mmf threesomes)
this one goes out to all the besties on anti-depressants
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
“No.”
“But—”
“No.”
Harry sighs in frustration before crossing his arms over his chest. If he pursed his raspberry lips into a pout, he’d look more like a petulant child than the young adult Y/N’s known for the past few years. With a roll of her eyes, she lifts her glass to her mouth and takes a healthy swig of her coke and rum. She allows herself to scan the interior of the bar — it’s just barely 6 pm on a Wednesday so she’s not surprised that it’s primarily filled with locals and teams of corporate offices decompressing after a long day.
“I could always make you come when we hooked up and I bet you I could still do it.”
“Christ, Harry, give it a rest,” Y/N replies, narrowing her eyes at the curly haired brunette. “It’s not just with partners, it’s me, too.”
He quirks an eyebrow and settles his elbows on the sticky table. She huffs when she realizes she’s only piqued his attention even more now that she’s revealed another inkling of her… problem.
“Can you just tell me what’s going on, then? You know, when I texted you for our semiannual catch up, I didn’t think we’d be getting into your sudden inability to orgasm, but—”
“Can you lower your voice?” Y/N hisses with wide eyes. “I didn’t think we would talk about this either but you’re the one who asked if I’m seeing anyone—”
“Yeah, seeing anyone, not coming for anyone—”
“Just shut up!” she mutters, nearly knocking over her almost-finished drink. “If I tell you, you have to drop it.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Harry…”
“As your ex-friend with benefits, I have no duty to keep secrets that aren’t about our bedroom-related rendezvouses.”
“There hasn’t been a ‘rendezvous’ in five years.”
“There could be.”
She sighs and presses her fingertips to her temples. This is why she and Harry never worked out. They’re total opposites — he has the energy of a rowdy golden retriever and she exudes a calm, monotone nature. (She thinks she’s borderline boring if you ask her, but that’s something she’s been saving for therapy.)
At parties in college, he was always the one working the room, chatting with everyone while she stood in the corner and clutched her solo cup for dear life.
He had a million contacts in his phone and people remembered him, even if they knew each other from something as small as working together on a project in a class three semesters ago.
Meanwhile, Y/N could spend two years straight working in the same office and someone would still ask her when she started working there because she looked “new”.
(Seriously. It happened last month, and she had to rush to the bathroom to cry.)
Despite their opposing personalities, they did work for a while, but only as friends with benefits. To begin with, Y/N never wanted anything more — when they started hooking up, they were nearing their senior year of college, and she didn’t want to be tied down to anyone or anything when making decisions about her future. But secretly, she knew feelings for Harry would inevitably pop up. How could they not? Although he was an annoying ball of energy sometimes, bouncing off the walls of her apartment before they even made it to her bedroom, he was kind. He had a good heart — he still does after all these years, otherwise Y/N would never bother meeting up with him without the intention of hooking up — and he was funny, and he made Y/N feel all warm and gooey inside. He was a good fuck, too, and as much as she wanted to widdle his presence down to being purely physical, she wasn’t strong enough for that.
She was grateful, albeit heartbroken, when six months after their arrangement began, Harry very sweetly told her he had a crush on a girl in his advanced sculpture class and wanted to go for it. As she swallowed a lump in her throat, she told him that was perfectly fine, that she was glad he told her, and that she hoped things worked out between him and Emily.
(They did. For two and a half years. Y/N had never been so thankful when graduation arrived and she could run as far away as possible from the couple.)
Harry tried his best to keep in touch, even after graduating while he was dating Emily — always commenting on her Instagram posts and responding to her stories, even occasionally texting her to wish her well on her birthday or major holidays. Y/N kept him at an arm’s length for as long as she could. That is, until he moved to her city last year.
The only reason why Y/N had a heads up is because of an Instagram story he posted. In his typical overly excited way, he posted a picture of his dog in his new apartment with one of those tacky, premade location tags. (She’s allowed to think they’re ugly — she’s a graphic designer.) So, it didn’t come as a surprise when a week or two later, a text popped up from an unknown number: Hey Y/N! Not sure if this is still your number or if you still have mine, but it’s Harry :) I just moved to your city and was wondering if we could get together! It would be great to see you.
Thus began the tradition of Harry and Y/N’s semiannual meetups.
It was an unsaid routine they followed — every six months or so, one of them would text the other for drinks or coffee or lunch. They only ever met up in public and they didn’t talk much outside of their scheduled hangouts, though Harry was much more prone to messaging her stupid memes and, on occasion, a picture of his dog, a husky named Fish.
Much to Y/N’s dismay, the chemistry between her and Harry was still very much there. It had been apparent from their first meetup last February. It was difficult not to flirt, especially when he brought up their past (she would happily pretend none of it ever happened if it meant Harry Styles never made her blush ever again). The thing is, though, is it was fine as long as nothing ever came of it.
Until now.
Because as Y/N sits across from Harry in the worn booth of a dive bar a block away from her apartment, she can’t believe she’s seriously considering letting him back in her bed.
“Can you just tell me what you think the problem is?” Harry asks. He slides his elbow onto the table and presses his knuckles up against his cheek, like they’re best friends giggling over some silly gossip. It makes Y/N want to elbow him in the ribs.
“It’s a biological issue,” she mutters, “Like I said, nothing you could fix. Even if I wanted you to.”
“Just spit it out, blossom.”
She narrows her eyes, though she finds it difficult to ignore the way her stomach flips at the familiar nickname. “You’re not allowed to call me that anymore.”
“Tell me what the issue is and I won’t call you that,” he replies easily. “C’mon, it’s me. Remember all the times I helped you pee when you were too drunk to sit up straight? We’ve definitely seen each other in more embarrassing situations before.”
Y/N sighs loudly. He has a point — there was a time where Harry knew her better than anyone else in the world. And frankly, she hasn’t talked to anyone about her problem.
Scooching her body forward, she attempts to close most of the gap between them. Harry leans closer and she rolls her eyes. To an outsider's perspective, they probably looked like they were performing some kind of sketchy drug deal or like little girls swapping secrets at a slumber party.
“Remember how I struggled with, um… getting pretty sad?”
Harry’s eyebrows draw together and he nods.
“Right, so it got… worse when I moved here. And I needed to find help, so I started seeing a psychiatrist who put me on antidepressants. They’ve helped a ton — I feel better, and the depression that I do feel is a lot less intense.”
“That’s great, Y/N,” he says, and she can tell he means it by the genuine tone to his voice. “What does that have to do with you not orgasming, though?”
She swallows tightly. “Well, my doctor increased my medication over the winter, and one of the side effects is…y’know. Decreased libido and whatnot.”
His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah,” she snorts, leaning back against the cracked leather of the seat. “Oh, shit.”
“And you’ve tried vibrators and stuff?”
“Of course I have, I’m not an idiot.”
“So how long has it been?”
She nibbles on her bottom lip as she thinks. Even with flings that she’s had over the past few months, they all gave up at a certain point. The sex was still fun, but she was just the only one who wasn’t coming.
“Well, I can give them to myself if I… work at it,” she mumbles, folding her hands in her lap. “But with a partner? Probably… six months.”
“Six months?!”
The look on Harry’s face is dramatic and theatrical, as if she just told him she was moving halfway across the world and participating in some kind of 90 Day Fiance situation.
“Shut. Up.” she says through grit teeth, sending him a harsh look. “I don’t need a reminder of how shitty it is.”
“Who the hell are you letting in your bed?” he demands sharply.
“It can take me an hour, Harry, I don’t expect every person I sleep with to be that patient.”
“They should be, Y/N.”
With a shake of her head, she glances down at her phone on the table. Everything has always seemed so simple for Harry — he’s one of those people where things just come easily for him, no pun intended. A part of her wishes they never delved into the subject matter. Vulnerability somehow always bit her in the ass and this instance was no exception.
“I’m gonna get going,” she says, pushing her empty glass to the center of the table. “Thank you for the drink, H. It was good to see you.”
His eyes soften as she begins to scooch her way out of the booth. Quickly, he throws a few bills down on the table and gets up to follow her.
“Can I walk you out, please?” he asks, swallowing as his stomach brims with nerves. She nods, though he’s unsure if it’s a reluctant response. Silently, they leave the bar together, and he nibbles on his bottom lip as she pushes the front door open. The spring air is a welcomed breeze from the sticky interior of the establishment, and she shifts on her feet as she turns around to face him. She parts her lips as if she’s readying herself to bid him a final goodbye, but he beats her to it.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he says as he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I just meant— like, you deserve better, is all. Someone who will be patient and care to learn your body.”
Y/N nods slowly. “Right. And you’re that person.”
Her tone teeters on mocking and it sends a harsh hit straight to Harry’s chest. He shrugs.
“If you wanted me to be.”
She doesn’t reply to that, but she doesn’t make a move to leave, either.
“I’ll think about it,” she finally says, and Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in shock. “My hand cramps up when I’ve been at it for too long. Maybe it’ll be nice to have someone else try.”
He huffs out a breathy laugh. “Just let me know and I’m there.”
. . .
A few days later, when Harry is at a friend’s house, he receives a text from Y/N: Are you free right now?
In all honesty, he’s surprised that she’s — assumingly — taking him up on his offer. Y/N remains to be one of the most stubborn people he’s ever known (one time she spent an entire week trying to put together a desk she’d purchased before asking anyone for help. The only reason why Harry was able to do it for her is because she’d called him over for a “destress fuck” and he finished it while she slept).
He swipes down on her message, his other hand occupied by some shitty IPA Lizzy’s new boyfriend had bought. He keeps asking Harry if he likes it and he has to lie about tasting the hints of citrus, even though it tastes like every other crappy beer he’s consumed.
At a friend’s house, he quickly types back, Why? Is your hand cramping?
He can basically feel her rolling her eyes as he bites back a smile, watching as the three dots appear to signal her impending response.
Yes. I was wondering if you wanted to come over.
He’s unsurprised by the casual invitation on a Friday night at 9:40 p.m. (it seems that, as far as hookups go, Y/N hasn’t changed much since college). Nibbling on his bottom lip, he uses his free hand to type a response.
I’m sorry, I would if I could. I’m trapped at this “apartment-warming” party for my friend. Apparently people host housewarmings even if they’re just renting a new place.
Y/N immediately types back: As much as I’d love to debate that with you, I’m really just looking for an orgasm. So if you’re busy, I’ll go back to buzzing at my numb clit.
Harry snorts at that before placing his beer on a coaster and excusing himself to the bathroom. Once he’s locked the door, he’s quick to pull up Y/N’s contact and press the pad of his thumb to her number.
“Hello?”
She sounds confused and frustrated when she answers and Harry smirks at that.
“Hey,” he greets, leaning back against the white porcelain sink. “I’m calling about your orgasm.”
“You’re seriously not trying to have phone sex with me right now.”
Her tone is as deadpan as it gets, and the monotone nature is enough to make a small bit of insecurity crawl into Harry’s stomach.
“Well, I was planning on talking you through it. ‘S not really phone sex if only one person’s getting off, I think.”
She lets out a noisy sigh and there’s some rustling on the other side. He waits for her response and is surprised when she agrees.
“Fine,” she huffs, and he can envision the way her eyebrow raises just slightly when she’s decided to give into something, “Let’s give it a try. Porn is getting boring anyway.”
“What were you watching?”
“Well, when you’ve been trying to come for 40 minutes, you end up in some… odd places,” she says. “I started out with lesbian porn, then found my way into threesomes, and somehow I ended up at double penetration.”
“Ah,” Harry nods, “Sounds like you’re having some sort of craving for group sex, then?”
A pause. And then: “I guess. I’ve never tried it, I just think it’s hot.”
“What’s hot about it for you?”
He thinks he hears her swallow, but he can’t be completely sure.
“I just like the idea of pleasing more than one person. I think that’s how I got to double penetration stuff.”
“Oh, I see. You want to be used.”
It’s blunt and it’s to the point, but he’s not wrong — he knows he’s not, because he slept with her for six months straight.
“I guess,” she replies non-committedly, “I guess it’s like… a fantasy of getting two people off and them feeling that way because of me. Through oral or… being inside of me, or whatever.”
“So what’s your threesome fantasy, then?” Harry pushes, though his tone teeters are near carelessness at this point, “Girl/boy? Boy/boy? Maybe it doesn’t matter. Who do you want to be between?”
Y/N exhales shakily, “I’ve never thought about it.”
“Well, now you are.”
She doesn’t immediately reply, but he knows she responds well to the calloused persona he suddenly obtains. She’s always been this way — submissive and good, always looking to please him intimately. It’s too easy for him to put the pieces together and solve the puzzle.
“I guess I like the idea of being with two guys, but it doesn’t matter much to me.” she eventually decides.
“Okay. And in your deepest fantasies, what are these two men doing to you?”
Another pause, though he thinks he hears a shuttered sigh on the line. He doesn’t mention it — not yet at least.
“Maybe… maybe one’s inside of me and the other one’s in my mouth.”
“And how is he fucking you? Is he on top of you, missionary style, or are you on your hands and knees while he fucks you from behind?”
A breathy whimper departs Y/N’s lips and this time it’s loud enough for both of them to hear. He smirks at the sound of it.
“I like the idea of him behind me. A-and the other one fucking my mouth.”
Harry hums, almost as if he’s praising her. “Close your eyes and envision it, then. Think about how you’re letting two men take advantage of you and use your body, just so they can get off. One’s fucking into you from behind, spanking your ass and grabbing your hips like you’re just some kind of toy to him. And the other one is thrusting deep into your mouth, making you choke, getting you all drooly for him. You’re nothing but a set of holes for them, honey. Isn’t that sweet?”
On the other line, all Harry hears is a series of shattered moans and low curses. Even though it’s been years, he can imagine the way her muscles are all tensed up, her pussy clenching around a dildo or her fingers. He wishes he would’ve asked so he could envision it, too.
“I-I think I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers out, and Harry palms himself through his trousers at the sound of her high-pitched mewls.
“There you go, blossom. Atta girl, just let go. ‘S easy, let it go for me,” his voice is a near coo and it makes Y/N’s eyes roll back into her skull. It’s like he knows how easy it is for her brain to ping pong to other far less sexier thoughts — like the dirty plates in the dishwasher or the unfolded laundry in the corner of her bedroom — so he continues crooning through the receiver, his low, soft voice guiding her through every bump and ridge of her impending orgasm.
When she comes, she comes hard, considering it’s been a solid two weeks since she’s been able to give herself an orgasm. It shoots through her entire body and, even with her eyes shut tight, the fantasy she created still plays through her brain — except now, it’s not two mystery men. Now, it’s just Harry fucking into her, all tan muscles and sweat pearling at his hairline.
She’s boneless and exhausted when she finishes, her throat dry from the involuntary moans she let go. She only remembers she’s still on the phone with Harry when she hears him clear his throat, followed by a call of her name.
“Hey, sorry,” she mumbles as her cheeks flush a deep red hue, “T-that was good. Thank you.”
“Yeah? You finished?”
If she had more energy, she would roll her eyes. Of course she finished. The entire neighborhood knows she finished.
“Yeah.” she mutters shortly. “Have a good time at your apartment-warming party.”
Harry huffs a laugh, “Yeah, ‘cos that’s what I’ll be thinking about for the rest of the night.”
She doesn’t have a chance to ask him what he means before he’s bidding her goodbye: “Let me know when you wanna do this again. I’m around this weekend.”
Summary: Y/n is feeling bored alone at her apartment, so Harry takes her for a ride.
A continuation to Discipline.
Trope: Agent Harry
WC: 6.3k
Warnings: mentions of speeding, a pinch of meanrry, smut, degradation, choking, face spitting, unprotected sex, implications of somnophilia, after care.
A/n: The writing is a bit rusty because it’s been a while since I wrote smut😬
Main Masterlist | Agent Harry Masterlist
Y/n was placed on house arrest by Harry for a week, and it was torturous.
Perhaps “house arrest” is a bit dramatic but she felt suffocated. She could leave her apartment whenever she wanted. Harry’s insistence on her relaxation was clear, and he only meant for her to avoid any activities that require physical exertion.
Anyone would be thrilled to have a week off from work, but it was rather confusing for Y/n. Although she hadn’t been an agent for long, she adapted quickly to the agent lifestyle which was hard to suddenly pause.
Even with Harry’s confirmation and reassurance that he wasn’t disappointed, she still felt the need to occupy her time with something useful.
There was absolutely nothing in her apartment that could pass away time. At least nothing that interested her.
She cleaned up a bit, reorganized the living room, and stuck to the meals that Harry sent for her daily. They weren’t bad actually, except for the spinach soup that made her want to puke.
With no one accompanying her but Tim Tim and her thoughts, she realized how nice and caring it is to send someone customized meals. If someone heard her say it out loud, they’d snort in her face but—they just don’t know Harry and his personality.
He texted her every day at least twice. At first, she thought he only did so to make sure she ate the meals and took her supplement (which would be considered too kind coming from him), but slowly he began diverting from those topics asking her about her day and chatting with her.
He gave her updates on the agency and promised to pass by her apartment only to bail on her because of an emergency that required his presence.
On day 4 she was fully annoyed. She couldn’t handle being away from the agency for long, and even if she could go out and enjoy her time away—she didn’t know where to go.
She didn’t lead a normal life, no agent did and she was completely okay with it. She had no one to check up on or call to hang out with. The idea of going out somewhere alone felt weird. She would feel like an imposter amongst a sea of normal people.
She buried the eerie feelings and decided to spam Harry with texts to annoy him a bit.
Y/n: I’m gonna pass by the agency :)
She pressed the send button and waited for his reply as she heated her lunch for the day.
His reply was almost automatic as if he didn’t have a load of responsibilities.
Harry: No.
Y/n: Yes.
Harry: I said no Y/n.
She huffed in frustration before remembering that if she could be a menace at the agency, then she could be a menace over text too.
Y/n: Too bad I’m already on my way.
Harry: Don’t test me.
Y/n: 😜
Harry: Are you disobeying me?
She choked on a piece of meat when she read his reply, and immediately reached for a cup of water. She wiped her mouth, staring at his text in confusion. It wasn’t strictly sexual, but it was a phrase that he always used during sex, because one thing that he combined between his professional and sex life was discipline, and Y/n adored it.
She loved his attitude, how he dared her to go against his orders or defy him. It wasn’t that she liked getting punished or sought pain—it was more of a need to observe him being dominant. The way he manhandled her and treated her like nothing but a toy, only for him to hold her to his chest right after.
Another text from Harry pulled her out of her fantasies and daydreams.
Harry: You’re well aware of how I feel about you disobeying me, right?
Y/n: Yes. I do.
Her response was automatic as if it was generated and not typed quickly by her. She wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.
Harry: Good Girl.
Motherfucker. He knew what he was doing. After all, he had her memorized by heart, and he probably was aware of how close she was to drooling. The meal in front of her didn’t appeal to her anymore because she had a different type of meal on her mind.
It had been a while since they hooked up and it was a rushed quickie behind closed doors at the agency. He kneeled on the ground to eat her out in no longer than five minutes before having to return to the training. He knew her body like the palm of his hand and had her panting and biting on her bottom lip in no time.
She adored it, really, but she craved the feeling of his cock driving into her as she held onto his body or while his hand wrapped itself around her neck with his mouth spewing the dirtiest sentences into her ear.
She sighed deeply reminiscing her adventurous sex life before he banished her to her apartment so she could rest. Was it a bit dramatic? Maybe. But she might be addicted to sex with him.
She glanced at his text knowing that he was probably smirking at his replies. He always knows how to get to her. She grabbed her phone and typed her reply because she was so fucking bored at the apartment and needed some fresh air.
Y/n: I’m still bored.
This time his reply wasn’t as quick as the previous one. It took him about five minutes to respond which was still fast considering how busy he was.
Harry: Okay. Go out.
Y/n: Wow! I didn’t think of that.
She scoffed at his dumb reply because who said that she was waiting for his approval?
Harry: Why didn’t you go out?
Y/n: I’m not sure…it feels weird…?
She could see the little dots that indicate that he was typing appearing only to disappear a few seconds later.
Harry: I’ll pick you up at 9. Dress comfortably.
When she complained about her boredom she thought that he would recommend her places to visit or give suggestions, not take her out. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she read his text. She wasn’t hallucinating, right?
Y/n: Where are we going?
Harry: Eat your lunch and take your supplement.
Y/n: Damn grumpy pants.
He didn’t reply to her after that but if he did she’s sure he would have sent a thumbs-up emoji even if it was out of context. She continued her meal just like he instructed her. The hold he had on her was unreal, and she was okay with it.
Harry was knocking on her door at exactly 9 PM. Not a minute later.
This time she didn’t welcome him in with a tear-stained face, and grumpy attitude. It was the entire opposite of it. The only thing that was similar to the previous time was her shock. Harry was dressed in all black and a leather jacket. His hair looked so fucking soft, and a hair strand fell on his forehead as he leaned against the door with his hands in his pockets. He was a sight for sore eyes, especially Y/n’s whose jaw almost dropped.
“Hello, little minx.” He grinned devilishly as he entered her apartment. His cologne had her knees buckling, reminding her of when she’d bury her face in his neck.
Black shirt, black pants, black boots, and a black leather shirt. He’s going to be the death of her, surely. He strolled in like he owned the place while she shamelessly stared at his body.
“Little minx…” He tutted, cornering her against the kitchen counter. “… sent me message after message today as if I don’t have a workload.” His tone made her feel like she was in trouble, but the good kind of trouble.
“But you still answered, no?” She replied confidently with a smirk to remind him of the hold that she also had on him, even if they never spoke about it directly.
He remained silent, offering her his cheesy smirk as his eyes raked over her face and neck like he was trying to come up with sinful scenarios. She was more addictive than any type of drug.
“Ready to hit the road?” He deviated from the topic skilfully while checking out her attire to make sure that she’d be comfortable during the ride.
“Hmm. Let’s go.” She walked in front of him like a princess, going down the stairs excitedly.
She stepped out to the street and looked around with a hint of a smile painted across her face. She could hear Harry’s boots behind her and smell his cologne that seemed to have stuck to her clothes.
“So…are we going to walk there?” She asked with confusion evident on her face.
“We’re riding there.” His response held a sense of pride as he grabbed her hand and walked down to the end of the street before taking a left and stopping.
A large black sports bike was parked in its glory itching for someone to take it for a ride. Y/n stood still in her place with her mouth wide open in shock. Harry was a motorcycle guy?
“Oh…wow.”
“Scared little minx?” He mused like it was so fun to see her reaction. He approached her from behind, bumping his body with hers and trapping her physically. She could feel him breathing against her neck as she swallowed down his throat. One touch from him and she’s paralysed.
He pressed a soft peck behind her ear before whispering. “Don’t worry… you’ll hold on to me.” She barely processed what he said as he immediately urged her forward and gave her a helmet to put on. She wore it as soon as he gave it to her to cover her facial expression from him. He helped her tie it up before placing his helmet on.
“C'mon hop on behind me.” He situated himself on the bike, and the more Y/n stared, the more the wetness between her thighs increased. Seeing him in all black was something but with a biker helmet on? She wanted to drop on her knees right there and then, but she didn’t.
Instead, she hopped on behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso. Her grip was weak making him urge her to get closer and glue herself to him. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, it just made her ridiculously horny.
The feeling of hugging his muscular body with her core touching his lower back had her feeling some sort of way. She could feel his abs under her touch, and his cologne drifting in the air was not helping.
“I can’t even see anything because of your back!” While she joked about it, deep down she found it fucking hot. His broad back and shoulders blocked her view, and the only thing she could do was rest her head against it.
“I don’t hear you complaining when you’re scratching on it.” Even with his helmet on, she could feel him smirking.
She gave in to the feeling of his warm body against her as if he were shielding her from everything. It was not an ideal timing for her size kink to get activated, but she genuinely couldn’t help it.
“Hold on tight little minx.” The engine roared to life and Harry fixed his position before taking a turn and heading straight for the highway.
This was her first time on a motorcycle surprisingly. At first, her body was tense, and it didn’t feel nice. Despite having a helmet on, it felt like the wind was slapping her. Harry turned out to be a skilled biker who speeds for fun—still he was careful.
She eventually regulated her breathing and unclenched her jaw as she adapted to the adrenaline rush that she felt. It was an otherworldly feeling. She couldn’t tell what made her feel this way. Harry’s body against her, the evening breeze, or the rush of speeding.
No matter what it was, she felt amazing.
Harry wanted to taunt her in some way, preferably verbally—but she seemed like she was having fun, and her arms around him were a distraction. The feeling of her body clinging to him was priceless.
He tried to avoid speeding on the highway for her sake despite loving to do so. It was one of the things he resorted to when he needed a break from everything. Nothing could compare to the adrenaline rush he felt…maybe just Y/n’s lips.
He slowed down and took an exit on the highway that led them to a deserted road and ultimately a hill. He stopped and turned off the ignition before stepping off the bike.
“Fucking hell. Do you want to kidnap me?” Y/n joked as she looked around the dark and deserted space.
“If I want to kidnap you, little minx, I’ll simply carry you.” He chuckled as he took off his helmet and fixed his messy hair. She swallowed down her throat as she stared at him. Why did he have to look this good?
“C'mon.” He gestured for her to follow him, and she jogged to catch up. He placed his hand on her lower back to urge her forward. His body was dangerously close to her, and she could smell his cologne again. Harry’s hand itched to hold hers, but he wasn’t sure if she’d like that, so her lower back should suffice.
They took a small turn to the left as rocks crunched under their shoes. Harry wondered whether he should tell her to close her eyes or not. But if he does, then it’d sound romantic which crosses the boundaries of their physical relationship.
“It’s right…here.” They were met with a gorgeous view of the city. They could see almost all the lit buildings as if they were in the sky. It felt as if they were spying on the city with its lights and secrets. No one but them on the deserted hill.
“Wow..this is so beautiful”. Y/n gasped in shock at the view in front of her. She never expected Harry to take her to this spot-she didn’t even know it existed.
“I know.” If she wasn’t too occupied with the scenery, she would’ve noticed that Harry was in fact, staring at her with a smile on his face.
“How do you know this spot?” Y/n still couldn’t take her eyes off the shimmering buildings.
“I discovered it once by mistake, and I come here often.” He didn’t mention how this place was his escape from the world, or that he came here before heading to her apartment that day.
“It’s so nice.” Despite the darkness filling the space, Harry could still see and feel her smile.
He quickly got the bike so they could sit on it, and left it turned on for the light.
“Oh, it’s so big I could sleep on it.” Y/n remarked.
Perhaps he was feeling extra chill or it was just from being around her but a weird sound came out of his mouth as he tried to suppress a laugh. Y/n usually gets sleepy after sex, and his dick isn’t the average size. So did he think of her sentence sexually and almost burst out laughing? Yes.
“Did you just try to laugh at me?” She asked in an annoyed tone.
“Me? Never.” He covered up his chuckle with coughing.
“Whatever…” She mumbled a few other words under her breath as she attempted to climb the bike, but it was gigantic. She can’t even recall how she climbed it previously and she’s not even short!
She gasped suddenly as Harry’s hands lifted her body like she weighed nothing and placed her on the seat before she could blink. She was glad that he couldn’t see her face clearly because she could feel her cheeks burning. Was she that touch deprived?
“I was handling it just fine.” She huffed in confidence.
“Mhmm.”
The bike was indeed huge, but Harry took most of the space making their bodies glued on the seat.
The tension between them could be cut with a knife. Y/n would usually be the first to break the silence, but she just couldn’t. She felt paralyzed next to him, and he didn’t even touch her yet. His presence and cologne were enough to weaken her.
“Are you still mad at me?” He cleared his throat.
“What?” She couldn’t mask the shock in her tone as her face turned around to meet his.
“About last week.” It sounded as if something was holding him back, almost like he was afraid of asking.
She took a few seconds to process his question, mostly because she was shocked at the gesture. She knew deep down that it meant a lot. No one would believe her if she said that Agent Harry Styles was checking up on her and apologized. They’d probably laugh in her face.
She couldn’t decode what it meant. Was he just feeling guilty, or did he share the same feelings? The need for more than just physical boundaries haunted her but she wouldn’t dare to bring it up. Even if he was feeling guilty, it still had to be something. He’s literally merciless to other agents.
“I—I—“
“You don’t have to give me an answer.” He reassured her in a low whisper.
“No, I do—I’m just confused.”
“About?” Harry was itching to know her answer. He even rehearsed his question for the past week.
“Well… why did my lack of performance anger you in the first place?” She had a lot to ponder about in her free time. Questions that popped into her head about Harry.
He took a deep breath and clasped his hands together before exhaling. “I didn’t want you to get hurt on the field. Most of the time when agents slack, they end up getting injured in the field…”
“Wanted you to be strong for when I’m not there.” He whispered as if the city was able to hear him confessing his secrets.
“Oh.” Y/n’s head was swirling with thoughts and questions-none that came out of her mouth. She could even feel Harry’s stress radiating off him. She simply allowed her Pinky finger to touch his as they continued staring at the city.
It wasn’t until a few minutes later that she broke the silence.
“I’m not mad anymore. I was just surprised. Just—don’t do it again.”
“Never.”
They stayed in the same position with their fingers touching for almost two hours, as they chatted about important and mundane things. His heart fluttered when she laughed her ass off after he told her how an agent peed his pants because he was caught smoking.
He even told her about his mother briefly. That’s how whipped he was. She shared a few details about growing up as an orphan, but they both decided to close the topic knowing how heavy was.
“Your cologne is suffocating me.” Her remark was innocent, it really was—but his mind wasn’t.
“Thought you liked it when you buried your face in my neck?” Cheeky Harry was back in full force. He inched his face closer to her and he could hear her swallow down her throat.
“Harry…”
“Tell me…did you think about me knocking on your door and fucking you against the wall?” Lust dripped from his voice and Y/n’s chest was rising. Goosebumps spread all over her skin as their noses bumped.
“I—yes.”
“Good. Cause I stopped myself from doing that every single day.” He was needy for her, and only her.
“What are you waiting for then?”
In a few seconds, he had her straddling his lap with his hand supporting her lower back as his lips devoured hers. Their kiss was sloppy, wet, and lustful. Harry counted the minutes that led to this moment so he could taste the sweetest fruit.
He was fucking obsessed with everything about her. Her lips, eyes, body, mind, and pussy.
“Fuck!” He moaned into her mouth when she grinded over his clothed cock. He might as well cum right there in his pants if she kept doing that.
“Behave. “He slapped her ass causing her to whine sweetly. His large hand rested on her cheeks trying to knead them over her leggings.
Their breaths were labored as their tongues clashed like lovers who hadn’t had sex in ages. His mouth was fucking devouring her and she could already feel her lips getting sore. He kept urging her body closer as if he could morph them into one body.
“Ne—need you.” Her whimpers made the blood rush to his cock.
“Yeah? Where do you need me, my baby?”
She ignored his question and continued kissing all over his face, brushing over his stubble and chin. She was hungry and he adored it. But she also didn’t answer him.
He pulled her away by wrapping his hand around her throat. She gasped, secretly loving the feeling of his veiny hands choking her.
“I asked you a question, little minx. Where do you need me?” His voice was so deep and lustful that she wanted to get down on her knees and suck him.
“Uh—In my pussy.” She breathed out, feeling the wetness increase between her thighs just from his hand around her neck.
“Here, baby?” He cupped his other hand over her pussy making her feel tingly.
“Y—yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes sir.”
“Attagirl.” He felt her wetness on his hand and if it wasn’t so dark he’d bend her over the bike and fuck her into the next day. Besides, his little minx gets sleepy.
“C’mon, I need to get us to your apartment.” He spanked her cheeks again, earning a squeal from her. He pulled her off his lap and winced at his painful hard on before fixing his pants as much as he could and seating himself on the bike. His hand reached out for her and pulled her onto his lap again.
“Whoa! What are you doing? I should be behind you.”
“No. Since my cologne makes you horny, you’re gonna have your face buried into my neck the whole ride.” His smirk was sick but fuck her if she didn’t like it.
Her nose bumped over his neck and she fought a moan. This had to be the best punishment.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you with my body.” His arm tightened around her waist as he took the route they came from.
It was going to be a torturous ride.
Y/n could barely open the door properly with Harry kissing on the back of her neck. His hard on was pressing into her ass as she tried to insert the key. Her soft whines only made him hornier and needier.
As soon as they were inside, the keys dropped to the ground followed by the loud shut of the door. Harry grabbed Y/n by the throat pushing her to the wall where he kissed her deeply. The kiss was rushed and erotic, he could never get enough of her lips or sweet whimpers every time he pushed his tongue inside her mouth.
“My minx…” The warmth between her thighs was torturous. His deep voice rumbled from his chest sending vibrations straight to her pussy.
“Uhh..” She tried to push her core against his crotch for any sort of friction.
He caught on immediately as he smirked against the kiss and tapped on her ass to lift her on his waist. He had her placed lower than usual so she could feel him against the fabric.
“Is that what you wanted sweet girl? To feel how hard I am for you?” He panted, cradling her jaw with his hand as he deepened the kiss.
“Y—yes." She didn’t want to respond or part from his lips for a millisecond. She could feel her pussy pulsating just from the feeling of his cock pressing into her core.
She pulled away reluctantly, glancing at his neck like it was her next meal. He may have been teasing her, but he was right. She loved burying her face in his neck and sucking on it. She prided herself in knowing that the hickeys she’d give him would be on show for all girls at the agency.
His scent always played with her pheromones and messed with her brain. His cologne had a hold on her, and she knew that she looked like a puppy in heat when she clung to him.
“Dirty girl…” His hand rested on her hair as his head rolled backward giving her access to his skin. He was a sight for sore eyes with his face scrunched in ecstasy and lips slightly parted. She didn’t have to speak for him to understand her possessiveness and boy did he like it.
His little minx was obsessed with him just like he was.
“Bedroom please.” She laid her forehead against his having had her fill from giving him love bites. Their noses bumped as they looked into each other’s eyes that shared the same desire.
She didn’t need to tell him twice. He supported her body with one hand around her waist as she directed him to the room. He didn’t waste any time and kept his mouth busy with her neck.
He placed her down on the bed gently before taking off his clothes quickly while she stared at his toned body and tattoos, holding in her drool.
“You could stare at me all night darling, but now I need you to be a good girl and take off your clothes so I could relieve that needy cunt of yours.” Harry barely finished his sentence, and her clothes were off in a few seconds.
The light in the room was dim, supported by a small bedside lamp. If she thought that staring at his body was a delight, then she should read his mind as he stared down at hers.
She looked so fucking pretty for him. Only him.
It was like an erotic scene out of a movie or a wet dream. Y/n on her back with her legs spread showcasing her glistening pussy and hardened nipples, and Harry standing tall in front of her with his cock erect to his stomach begging to sink itself inside her warm walls.
The sight of him standing like that nude and horny will never leave her mind. Almost as if he were a Greek god.
She squealed as he pulled her by her legs to the edge of the bed. Harry suddenly lowered his body till his face was at the same level as her pussy. His teasing game was strong, she was crumbling underneath him.
“My favorite scent.” He buried his face in her cunt and inhaled. A tiny whine left her mouth as his nose bumped into her swollen clit. Y/n felt like she could cry if he didn’t fuck her, and he was taking his sweet time in savoring the scent of her wetness.
“H—Harry.”
“Mhm?” He turned his attention to her, hovering over her body and taking delight in her needy face.
“Please—it hurts.” If he waited any longer, Harry was sure that a tear would’ve fallen from her eye.
“Oh poor baby…” He cooed as he caressed her cheek gently. “…you just need me inside, don’t you?” She was quick to nod while slightly squirming beneath him.
He pulled her closer, situating her core right under his cock, and stroked it giving her a show of his moans before tapping it against her wet cunt.
“Is that where you need it? Just have to slide in.” His sick grin with the feeling of his cock sliding over her cunt back and forth made her eyes roll back.
“Please.” She dug her nails into his back followed by a set of pleas.
“Shhh.” He whispered softly, pressing a peck to her cheek before pulling away from her and fixing their position.
He placed her legs on his shoulder and gave her his twisted smirk as he stroked his shaft and bit his bottom lip. “Gonna be my good girl as usual? Hmm?”. He lowered his body again, allowing his cock to rest on her stomach.
“Uh—huh.” She nodded mindlessly immediately. She was already cockdrunk and he wasn’t inside her yet.
“Ready baby?” His hand rubbed her legs softly as she gave him the cue. He glanced quickly at his cock resting on her skin and he almost got dizzy from the size difference. It got to him every damn time.
His eyes were focused on her facial expression as he slowly pushed himself inside of her. A wave of relief washed over her face with a sweet moan making him still his hips to avoid cumming.
There was nothing like sinking inside her warm walls that begged him to go deeper. Wet squelching sounds filled the room the more he pushed inside her—his baby was made for him.
“That’s it little minx—so fucking warm for daddy.”
Y/n’s brain felt mushy. Harry was so fucking good to her, and his cock scratched the itch just right. He never referred to himself as daddy before, only sir but she liked it so bad.
She pulled at his arms with soft whimpers signalling for him to get closer to her—which he did without hesitation. She clung to him, digging her nails into his back and tugging at his hair. His cock drove deep into her cunt, massaging her hot walls with its veins and thickness.
“Use me d—daddy”. Y/n shed tears from pleasure that stained his face since he was glued to her, pressing pecks to her cheeks and nose.
“Yeah? Want daddy to use you like a fuckdoll?” He increased his pace, going deeper and moaning into her ear at the feeling of her bare cunt.
They both adored raw sex and went for it almost every time. Y/n was on birth control, and Harry tested regularly (despite only fucking her). He was pussy whipped.
“Uhh—be rough daddy.” He stilled his hips at her words, leaving them glued to hers. He lifted his body and took in her fucked sight. Messy hair, tear stains, and a needy face.
“Wanted to be gentle with you but I forgot that you’re a whore deep down.” He chuckled before spitting on her face, and watching her chest rise and fall as she breathed heavily.
His little minx was insatiable and provoked him further by trying to fuck herself on his cock as she bit her bottom lip. He could faintly hear her whimpering ‘Daddy’ under her breath.
He wanted to slap her knowing how much she liked it but something else distracted him. He looked down to where they were connected noticing the mix of her wetness with his precum. He pulled out slowly, moaning at the loss of contact and his cock that is painted in white.
Harry tried to breathe in and out to avoid cumming. Not only did she cream on his cock, but her cunt was pulsating as if she was asking for his cock to slide in again.
“Pathetic. Creamed all over me.” Her inner thighs were coated with wetness, and she didn’t close her legs—not even a bit. She knew that she should always keep them spread for him.
He flipped her on her stomach effortlessly and she immediately arched her back, presenting her ass to him. “What a good fuckdoll.” He slapped her cheeks and placed his tip at her entrance before sinking into her warmth again.
Her walls pulled him back in as if she were some sort of seductress that made him addicted to her. Harry balanced himself and focused on the fast thrusts instead of her extremely warm cunt.
“Fucking insatiable aren’t you?” He grunted with his eyes fixed on his cock entering her pussy and coming out all creamy as her ass jiggled.
Y/n’s muffled moans were all she could offer. With her face smushed in the pillow and brain turned off, she was in fucking heaven.
The arch of her back had him rolling his head backward as his hips rotated forward, going deeper and harder.
“That’s it slut. Take my fucking cock.” He gritted his teeth, grabbing a fistful of her hair, and pulling it backward before wrapping a hand around her neck and lifting her body to his chest.
She was completely gone. She could only look at him with teary eyes that begged him to claim her.
Deeper, harder, faster.
“D—d…”
“Good fuckdolls keep their mouth shut.” He tightened his grip on her jaw, tapping on her mouth to open it up before spitting inside.
“Swallow.” If the warmth of her cunt didn’t kill him, it was going to be her face. So needy, compliant, and dizzy from pleasure.
Their bodies were glued to each other, skin to skin with her back to his chest as he thrusted inside her while panting in her ear.
He was supporting both of their bodies seeing as she could do nothing but whine. His arm was secured around her torso with her hand clinging to his bicep. The clenching of her walls around his cock was always the hardest for him. She’d rile him on trying to milk his cum, taking every drop.
“You wanna cum?” He panted against the back of her neck knowing how her body acts when she’s reaching her orgasm.
She gave him a weak nod, clinging harder to his bicep as she laid her head on his shoulder. They didn’t always cum together, but when they did, the euphoria was unmatched. Harry had been holding himself back ever since he sunk into her, just to feel her shake and pulsate around him as he spilled his cum into her.
“C’mon minx, give it to me.” His tongue left a broad lick on her neck with a harsh bite. It wasn’t her clit that got her off—her sensitive spot was her neck, whether Harry choked her or sucked on her skin—she was a goner.
“H—Harry” Her nails dug into his skin as she looked up at him with sweet eyes and shaky legs.
How could he resist laying his lips on hers as he stilled his hips to empty himself inside her?
She was shuddering—even with their skin glued together. Her sweet moans made his cock twitch inside her, already hungry for more. Her orgasm hit her hard, clouding her vision and thoughts. The feeling of his cum spiling inside her with her pussy clenching to take it inside was the only thing she felt and wanted to feel.
“Fuck. That’s it, take every drop my lo—minx.” His eyes fluttered open at his word slip up.
His eyes furrowed in confusion and immediately glanced at her face which seemed to be too occupied with cumming. His chest heaved as he swiped his hand across her face, moving her sweaty hair strands away before kissing her temple.
“Talk to me, are you okay?” He angled her face towards him to examine her expression.
“Yes.” A hazy smile was planted across her face making him chuckle.
“Mhmm. I’m going to pull out now and carry you to the bathroom so you can pee.” He gave her a heads up while rubbing her cheeks.
Once she nodded at him, he began pulling out slowly, wincing at being separated from her warmth—something that she reciprocated. Harry tried to avoid looking down—he really did, but it was too tempting.
His creamy load dripped out of her pussy, sliding down her legs, and the more she clenched, the more came out.
“Fucking hell.” He muttered under his breath, swiping his finger across her pussy and gathering his cum before tasting it.
Y/n’s whine echoed in his ear. She sported an angry look on her face that disappeared once he signalled for her to open her mouth. He spat the residue of what he tasted inside of her mouth, enjoying the faint moans that spilled from her.
“C’mon let’s clean you up.” He carried her effortlessly to the bathroom before giving her privacy and heading back to the room to change the sheets.
Who knew that changing bed sheets would make him irritated? He let out a huff, finishing the last touch right as she came out of the bathroom.
She was dressed in nothing but a plain white shirt that barely reached her thighs.
“Hm I love my bed.” She smiled as she climbed the mattress, giving Harry a show.
“Y/n.” He spoke rigidly.
“Yeah?” She glanced up innocently at him as she relaxed under the duvet.
“I was supposed to clean you up…and where are your panties?” He questioned her as he joined her on the bed—nude.
“You can wake me up at night, make a mess then clean me.” She taunted him, switching to the side and giving him a view of the shirt riding up her ass.
He got under the covers, situating himself properly so that he was attached to her.
“Is that what you want little minx? Hmm?” His fingers caressed her skin slowly starting from her arm, down to her legs.
“Yes.”
“Then we’ll see.” He nibbled on before earlobe as she dosed off to sleep. She loved sleeping after sex and Harry knew that, but it was almost 1 in the morning and she needed rest.
Harry dared to let his hand dip in her hair, giving her head scratches as she slept peacefully. He didn’t realize what he was doing until she stirred in her sleep making him pull his hand away.
His eyes furrowed in confusion as he stared at her sleeping face. First the word slip up and now he’s playing with her hair.
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