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#agentrry
harrysonlylover · 12 days
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Ride Along*
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
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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.
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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.
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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.
What the fuck was going on with him?
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be-your-coffee-pot · 1 year
Text
they hate each other and there's just one bed - part 1
A/N: So good god agentrry is finally here. Don't worry my loves this is just part 1. I had a a lot more written but word erased like 2k words I think ugh I'm sad. enjoy this anyways
Pairing: Agent!Harry Styles x Agent!Reader (female)
Word count: around 3.6k
TW: none much just swearing lots and lots of swearing, pretend wives and husbands mentions of killing trash acting jealous harry and one bed
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 Harry wants to kill her. Might just do it today.
“Stop glaring at each other, for god’s sake! This is supposed to be a pretty simple thing. Please don’t end up fucking killing each other before the mission is over.” Nick stated, raising a single eyebrow in a very matter of fact and totally Nick manner.
Nick Jamison was the captain of the Special Forces unit of SWAT, kept securely in the shadows (a bit like S.H.I.E.L.D. if you ask me, just much smaller), of which both Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles were part. They worked seamlessly together except for one bump on the road.
Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles hate each other.
Plain and simple right there.
The reason, you ask? A plethora of reasons. Y/N thinks Harry’s “way too motherfucking cocky” and that he should “get his stupid curly head out of his British ass.” She thinks all his niceness is just for show, and that he’s a total fake.
Harry Styles has the same things to say. According to him, “who the fuck does she think she is? Running around like she’s a goddamn saint.”
Nick’s hot take on the matter: “those two morons didn’t develop past their primary school phase where you push and pull the person you like because you don’t know how to deal with feelings. Plain and simple right there.”
I guess you know understand that even though they’ll work exceptionally together, they won’t willingly do it but they’re great together, so they have to you know.
This brings us here.
There was a slippery drug cartel that needed to be busted, but the unit had been struggling with getting the owner for months, and now finally, there was a way in.
“Dominic Vasquez is an eel. Snaky, slippery, and awfully hard to catch. We’ve been trying to find a suitable opening for a long time and finally have one.” Nick briefs Harry and Y/N, who is sulking in their seats.
“What opening? Please just spit this shit out, Nicky. I don’t really have the patience for your dramatics right now.” An annoyed Y/N remarks for the first time after entering the meeting room. As usual, both had been called in, not informed they would be doing a mission together, and the complaints and whining had begun. All they had done after acknowledging (scowling) each other was roll their eyes while glaring at each other through their director’s words.
A slight noise of agreement comes from the other agent in the room. Nick heaves a heavy sigh as he gestures vaguely at his prize pupils. “Look, you two, it’s paining me to breathe in all this sexual tension. Get a lid on it or go fuck it out. Please don’t drag me in it. Let me fucking finish.”
Their attention has been successfully piqued, all their pissiness vanishing as irritation and slight embarrassment settle on their features.
After an eye rollTM, the director gives all the information to the agents, who’re now listening as promptly as they’re ignoring each other. “His annual gala is next week, and that’s really the only opening. You are supposed to be new members, so you’ll be informed of that soon. You both will go in a day prior, get settled in. The whole thing is held at his mansion in Milan. You must find his office, grab evidence, and get out while being under the pretence of visitors. Simple.”
Harry is the one who speaks up this time, a sceptical eyebrow raises to accompany his words. “Why do I have a feeling there’s more to this?”
Nick sighs again like it’s hurting him to just breathe. “You’re going in as a married couple, Mr Andrew Jackson and Mrs Amelia Jackson.”
Y/N and Harry erupt in groans and protests of “why does this always happen” and “why do you always do this” in reference to the fact that they’d been in a few assignments previously where the both of them had to play a couple.
(Nick won’t say this out loud ever, but he thinks they’d make a damn great couple, so he keeps trying to push them together invisibly. Besides, they have great chemistry, so it really makes everything more believable.)
“Stop whining and get to it, Jesus Christ.”
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“Can you shift your fucking elbow?” Harry grunts in anger at his companion. Without looking up from the magazine in her hands, Y/N raises a single eyebrow at him, making absolutely no move to adjust her position.
Scoffing at the reply he received, or the lack thereof, the man shoves her elbow off the hand rest prompting an eye rollTM and an irritated groan from the agent beside him.
Surprisingly, Y/N doesn’t push him back because she’s too tired to deal with his shit at 6 in the fucking morning. Besides, it’s bloody December, so she just agitatedly pulls in her arms and continues to skim through the pages.
The next 2 hours or so are filled with glaring, under-the-breath grumbling and all sorts of gestures to annoy the other, but they thankfully make it out of the plane and to the hotel in one piece.
Harry shamelessly winks at the receptionist who’d just asked what name the room was under as Y/N rolls her eyesTM. “Jackson. Andrew Jackson sweetheart.” The girl blushes and giggles, quickly retrieving the key card.
“Jesus at least pretend like you have a wife,” Y/N mutters to her man-whore of a partner once they get inside the elevator. Harry’s lips tilt up in response, that infamous smug smirk coming out to play as he taunts her. “Why wifey, not getting enough attention, hmm? Jealousy isn’t that good of a look on you, sweetheart.”
“Please you’re too self-involved. I’m worried you won’t be able to keep it in your pants long enough to not fuck up my mission.” She scowls. Harry has the decency (or gall, whatever you will) to look offended at the comment. “Our mission and oh please miss goody to-shoes you know as well as I do that, I’m clearly the more responsible one out of the both of us. I’m not stupid enough to jeopardise our mission just because I wanted to get my dick wet.”
Y/N retorts just as the elevator doors open. “Aren’t you though, dear?” With his mouth gaping and the doors closing, he realises she just snatched the key card out of his hand.
The brunette hastily moves to catch up with her while she opens the door. Nick had actually booked them a suite and “it has two big beds, I swear!” However, the suite in question was slightly different from what was promised.
One single, king-sized bed stares back at them from the centre of the luxuriously decorated room.
Y/N breaks the silence. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
A deep groan emits from Harry as he rubs his eyes annoyedly.
“Screw you I’m taking the bed.” Before she could even think of saying something, Harry deposits himself on the bed, all gangly limbs as he sighs in satisfaction. She clenches her teeth and marches over to the bed, glaring at him with her arms crossed. He turns and grins up at her infuriatingly, “Can I help you with something, wifey?”
She shifts gears and gives him a saccharine smile. “Yes actually. How about you cuddle me to sleep, dear?” Harry’s brow furrows in mild disgust and he doesn’t even get a word out before Y/N is beside him with her arms wrapped around his lean body, fully flopping on top of him. He flails around like her touch burned him and knocks her over to the other side of the bed where she snickers at him. With a swift kick, Harry’s on the floor and Y/N has spread out starfish on the sheets.
He climbs back up to try to take control of the bed again, but Y/N just won’t let that happen. They wrestle each other and she’s just about to punch Harry when the doorbell rings. Her hand freezes a few inches away from his scowling face, both of them scrambling to fix their rumpled clothing. She stumbles off where she’d planted herself on his abdomen and opens the door while Harry shifts around to make it seem like he was just relaxing on the mattress.
The bellboy is standing in the hallway, holding their bags as he smiles at her maybe a little too amicably. “Hey yeah you can put them in here.” Y/N leads him inside the room. He puts down the suitcases and glances up to find an intimidatingly handsome man lounging on the bed, watching him with narrowed jade eyes.
Without taking his gaze off the boy, Harry calls to Y/N who was turning on the electric kettle at the side of the room. “Baby, can you come here for a second, please?”
“Yes, honey?” Y/N replies as she comes to stand at his side. She should get a fucking Oscar for how great she played along right there. Her ‘husband’s hand comes up to rest on her thigh as he lazily smiles at her. “Tip the boy darling, then can we please take a nap, hmm?”
With her back turned to the steward, she raises her eyebrows at his antics, quickly moving to retrieve her temporary husband’s wallet. “Sure honey.”
Harry’s scowling at the bellboy as he leaves.
“If you need anything mam, I’ve been Aaron. Don’t hesitate to call, I’ll be right here.” Y/N quickly shoos him away rolling her eyesTM at his attempt of shooting his shot. Harry is still scowling. “I’ve been Aaron. Don’t hesitate to call, mam.” He mocks in a high-pitched accented voice.
“Look who’s jealous now, dear. You seriously felt threatened by a bellboy, Styles? That’s how weak your ego is?” The agent scorns the notion, switching the subject smoothly.
“Fuck that. Grab a chair, we’re running over the plan.”
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Y/N is just about ready to stab him with the fork in her hand.
“If you don’t stop smirking and start acting like a goddamn husband, I swear to god I will rip out your carotid,” Harry smirks, of course, he does.
“Gonna use your teeth, sweetheart? Never would have taken you to be that kinky.”
He should be thankful the waiter arrives right that moment or he would have ended up one major artery down.
The waiter looks at Y/N, completely disregarding the man with her as he asks for her order. “Good afternoon mam. What will you be having today?” He very sweetly asks to which she gives him a tight but polite smile. She can just barely hear Harry mumble under his breath, “Definitely none of your bullshit.”
“I think I’ll just go with the mushroom risotto. Thank you.” Harry clears his throat, finally gaining the waiter’s attention. The guy has the nerve to look irritated at Harry’s intervention, which piques the agent further.
“If you’d be willing to pay attention to me, I would like a cheese ravioli, thank you.” Upon receiving death eyes from the man, the waiter quickly nods and runs but not before flashing a smile at Y/N.
An eyebrow is already raised when she fully turns in her partner’s direction. “Seriously, Styles? Again?” He rolls his eyesTM, scoffing at her insinuation and yet again opting to ignore her remark.
“Shut up. Give me your hand.” She grouses at the sheer duality of the statement, lips curling in annoyance.
“What? Why would I ever do that?”
“Shutting up or giving me your hand?” Harry mutters with a boyish grin. The dimples alone make it seem like he was just flirting playfully. “Come on, wifey. Pay your husband some attention.”
It clicks to Y/N suddenly that they’re supposed to play pretend and she’d somewhat lost track of the notion. She huffs quietly and slips a hand into his ringed one, watching as he brings it up to his lips.
A strange shock goes through her as Harry’s jade eyes meet hers and his lips softly brush over her knuckles like he was glad to be allowed this close. He laces their fingers together, giving her a moony smile, she would’ve swooned over him if he wasn’t a douche. She returns it with just as much sentiment.
“I have never wanted to end your existence more.” “Trust me I feel the same.”
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Fortunately, the waiter made it out alive.
Harry is not a violent person generally but after today Harry swears, he has never longed to put a bullet in someone’s head more.
During the one hour or so, Y/N and Harry spent at the restaurant, that damn waiter kept making passes at Y/N while ignoring Harry’s presence at the table. So much so that he made her uncomfortable. Now Harry may hate her guts but that does not mean he’ll sit and watch a moron try to objectify his companion. Moreso make her uncomfortable as she sat with her husband?
So, when he interrupted their sweet moment to present their meals and make a comment about how the madam looked much more ravishing than the food, it’s safe to say Harry may have lost it a teensy bit.
I’m not saying Harry got up under the stance of gonna run to the loo real quick and whispered in the waiter’s ear to dare and make one more remark on my wife, or that he’ll gut you like the fish on that table. I’m not saying that he sat and glared at the terrified man with satisfaction or smirked when Y/N told him to keep it in check. I’m also not saying he replied I’m your husband baby it’s my job.
But then again, I’m also not saying he didn’t.
“Jesus Harry, that poor guy was petrified. Did you really have to?” Y/N gets out in a fit of laughter as they get in the hotel elevator. Harry titters along with her, shaking his head and announcing in an overly posh British accent. “I’m your husband baby, it’s my job!”
She collapses into giggles again but for some reason this time, Harry stands and stares with something akin to fondness at her glee. She wipes under her eyes, raising a questioning brow at his gaze. “What? ‘ve I got something on my face?”
“No, nothing.”
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“Fuck you, Styles.”
“You wish, Y/L/N.”
She huffs and stomps and smushes his face into the pillow in her hands in a failed attempt at asphyxiation. He chortles.
“Let me take the bed, Styles, don’t be a dick come on.” Y/N tries one more time, but the man just turns, sighs, and goes spread eagle on the mattress.
After lunch, they discussed their plan some more and went around Dominic Vasquez’s mansion to scout out the area. Nick had given them a blueprint of the property so that they could mark down possible exit routes and things like that. That is what they’d spent the rest of the day doing but now it’s 11 and they really need to sleep.
Upon receiving zero replies from the man spread on the bed, Y/N sighs heavily. She was stubborn as fuck sure but then again, she wasn’t gonna keep fighting and risk having him blow up uselessly.
Turning off the lights, she tiredly crawls onto the stiff couch. Harry’s already snoring, and she can’t even get comfortable.
She tosses and turns as the clock tick’s midnight, but sleep is a fever dream. She chucks her pillow onto the carpet, quickly following after it. The floor might be a better option than the couch.
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It’s been 1876 seconds and Harry snores 4 times every minute and it’s been 30. The floor is hurting her back.
Y/N gives up on sleep altogether, getting up and turning on the one lamp placed on the oak table in the room. A warm buttery light surrounds that corner of the room. She looks over her shoulder to see if it disturbed Harry but he was still snoring.
He looked almost adorable like this. Messy curls strewn over his forehead, chest rising with soft subdued breaths. His features were relaxed, free of that furrow he gets in his brows when he’s ticked off.
Her lips quirk up the tiniest bit but she doesn’t indulge in it any further. Y/N gently pulls out the chair with a sigh, plopping down on it and flipping open the case files. Might as well work.
“Y/L/N. Y/L/N wake up! Wake up, Jesus.” Y/N can just make out a deep, accented voice mumbling and a hand shaking her shoulder gently. “Y/L/N come on you idiot.”
She rises slowly, groaning out a sigh. She tips her head back to find Harry standing above her, sleep smeared over his face.
“Why the fuck are you sleeping on the table?” She learns that Harry’s voice becomes much deeper and raspier when he wakes up and she doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge.
“I-I was sleeping on the couch first but then I tried the floor cause the couch was very stiff but then like the ground was stiffer so I tried to do some work and I think I might’ve fallen asleep? What time is it?”
“Oh yeah, no shit Sherlock. It’s around 1:17 something. You can-you can uh come sleep on the bed. It’s large enough for like 3 people and we both need sleep so you can take one side, I guess.”
Y/N raises her eyebrow. “You’re sure? You know what, I’m not even gonna question it. Get outta the way, motherfucker.”
Harry mutters something along the lines of why did I let her sleep in my bed but does nothing as she wriggles under the unmade side of the bed. Y/N’s eyes are already drooping as he gets under the covers on his side.
“Stay on your fucking side, Y/L/N. I mean it please.”
She hums out an unintelligible response.
Harry doesn’t remember when he fell back to sleep but the last thing, he did remember that night was his partner’s arm extending away from her face where it had been previously and landing next to his, their pinkies now wrapped together.
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He feels warm. It’s not the fuck I’m burning it’s too much kind of warmth but rather the toasty welcomed kind. The one where you’re curled up under a blanket watching a movie with your cat at your feet, a fire cackling gently by the side, sweet candles burning, and an even sweeter girl in your arms.
Harry’s emerald eyes blink open heavily. There’s a weight in his arms and it’s 4 am. The weight shifts. It also sighs and cuddles closer to Harry. He finds the weight is actually a person. The person is Y/N and it’s pleasant.
Harry falls back to sleep.
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She feels warm. It’s not the ah it’s burning kind of warmth but rather the welcomed toasty kind. The one where you’re snuggled up under the covers watching a movie with your cat at your feet and there’s a fire cackling gently by the side, sweet candles burning and an even sweeter boy, holding you in his arms.
Y/N’s eyes blink open heavily. There’s a weight on top of her and it’s 8 am. The weight shifts. It also sighs and snuggles tighter around Y/N. She finds the weight is actually a person. The person is Harry and it’s very unpleasant.
Y/N squawks and throws him down.
“What in the Jesus Christ-” Harry gapes from the floor, having been woken up suddenly. He looks up and there she is holding her pillow like a weapon. Is she serious?
“Why the fuck were you cuddling me?”
“Why the fuck would I cuddle you?”
“I do not fucking know! You were the one on top of me!”
“You were the one on my side!”
“Well, someone crossed over!”
“You did!”
“Oh no, you were the one who started it!”
“Shut your bitch ass up, you started it, Styles!”
“Oh, please Y/L/N, you are the last person I would want to snuggle with. I may be a touchy person but I’m not that desperate-”
“Oh, you’re a man-whore so you better jus-”
Someone’s phone rings.
It’s Nick.
There’s silence.
Then there’s scrambling.
Y/N snatches up the phone and answers it.
“Hey yeah hi. Good morning, Nick, how’re you doing this fine morning?” She awkwardly asks her director and Harry just crouches on the floor, his head in his hands.
“Y/N what did you do? It’s not even 9 yet. Why are you answering Styles’ phone? Did you two finally fuck it out or like-”
“Nick! Please. What do you want?”
Harry leans against the bed like he’s in pain (might as well be) because he can very well listen to the conversation going on, on the phone.
Nick heaves a sigh on the other side. “I just wanted to ask you two how it’s going and inform you from where you’d be collecting your clothes for tonight.”
They straighten up and look at each other. Down to business.
“There’s this cute boutique downtown, owned by a sweet lady called Juliana. Now, she is doing me a big favour by entertaining your asses-”
“Oh, now come on that’s not fai-”
“Shut up Y/L/N and let me finish. Have no manners I swear to god.”
Before Y/N can open her mouth to complain some more (she always whines like this but Nick never says anything, not to her) Harry snatches his cell back and clears his throat.
“Now movin on. You’ll go to her no late than noon and take your pick from whatever options she has. Don’t bother her too much.”
“You sweet for her, Nicky?” Harry snickers, sneaking a look at Y/N who’s doing the same.
“Sure like you are for that wife of yours, huh Styles?”
Nick ends Harry and the call.
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Omg I almost forgot about agentrry he was MEAN mean 😳
and it’s so sexy of him 😵‍💫
like imagine Harry in a bulletproof vest with a loaded gun cocked in one hand while he guides her to a safe hiding spot with the other, his palm resting along the dip of her spine as he ushers her behind a corner and presses against her body tightly, using himself to shield her in case anyone spontaneously opens fire. Meanwhile, she’s squirming and rambling nervously, and eventually her terrified muttering triggers his temper.
He sighs harshly in exasperation, grabbing her chin and yanking her face towards his roughly, their noses brushing due to their intoxicatingly close proximity. His voice comes out as a hoarse, stern whisper, his blunt, angry tone mirroring the raging fire behind his emerald eyes. “Close your fucking mouth before you get us killed.”
Despite the icy fear crawling up the knobs of her spine and freezing every nerve along the back of her skull, Y/N still somehow finds it in herself to quietly snap at his dickish command. “Don’t speak to me like I’m a fucking moron.”
“Then stop acting like one.”
“Look, I don’t care that you’re some type of stuck-up government agent. That doesn’t give you the right to treat me like I’m fucking cattle—”
“Shut up.”
“Excuse me?”
Harry proceeds to slap his large hand over her mouth, much to her incredulous surprise. Before she can get the chance to exclaim in protest, he’s leaning down towards her neck, eliminating the last few inches of space separating their damp, clammy skin. His silky lips ghost over the shell of her ear, causing her to gasp wetly against his palm at the all too familiar sensation. He murmurs his words as low as possible, barely audible so only she can detect them, and she hates that his warm breath and the faint scent of his crisp cologne makes her stomach twist, especially during such an inappropriate time. “Shut. Up. Someone’s coming…”
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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years
Note
I'm too nervous to suggest anything outside of anon mode haha but I had some ideas for agentrry...
He's straight-laced, very 'by the book', either he doesn't go out to drink at all (except one at home) or he goes out to bars by a lot and has a few drinks by himself, and maybe he's a bit guarded... and however/whenever he meets the reader he finds that she's very free-spirited?
I don't know. Might be boring.
i actually picture him to be kind of rigid, a loner at the beginning and then yn will be like a ray of sunshine if that makes sense haha
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harrysonlylover · 1 month
Text
Discipline
Summary: Agent Harry cherishes discipline, but he doesn’t like the fact that Y/n has been lacking it.
Trope: Agent Harry
WC: 6.8k
Warnings: MEAN Harry, shouting at Y/n, Angst, mention of blood tests and deficiencies, NO SMUT.
Agent Harry Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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Choosing to become an agent would either be the worst decision in your life or the best. In Harry’s case, it was the latter.
He was born a leader—at least according to his mother. He had the household controlled from a young age, something that was perceived as adorable by adults.
But behind all his antics and “boss orders”, was a man eager to assert dominance starting from his early years.
His behavior was a replica of a leader or a man in power. His mother didn’t oppose his personality, perhaps a part of her thought it was just a phase, while the other was okay with it.
Little did she know that this stubborn young man would grow up to become one of London’s best secret agents.
As some would say—he didn’t choose the path, the path chose him. A fresh High School graduate eager to take a bite from what the world was offering him with little to no guidance.
Instead, he poured all of his focus on training like a man ready to enroll in the military—something that his mom disapproved of.
How could she allow her son, her boy to sign himself up like that?
Underneath his rough exterior and judgmental persona, his mother’s beliefs were dear to him. To this day, no one has deemed himself as important as her, and perhaps no one ever will.
So, after her sudden death when he was merely twenty—he allowed himself to get lost in grief, to go against the orders he created, and betray his strictness. His body dragged him around from one place to another, asking for fights, a punch here and there to transfer his emotional maim to a physical one.
The last time he would do that was also his first chance at a new beginning. Drunk and out of his mind at a local bar, the whiskey still fresh on his tongue with rage bubbling in his core.
Just like every previous time, he ensued a fight for no reason. But this time, it was different because he had an admirer and more of a stalker.
Ezra Nakrosa, the director of the London Intelligence Agency. A man whose reputation preceded him and Harry’s mentor for the upcoming years.
He wasn’t actively pursuing him, but he kept his eyes on him after he managed to take down three men with alcohol in his system.
He watched him drink one glass after the other and scoffed to himself when he caused a fight. The last thing he expected was for Harry to outpower them all.
Since then, he watched him from afar, studied his file, and was even more interested upon finding out that he had no family.
The agency always preferred recruiting agents with little to no loved ones, for many obvious reasons and Ezra felt like he hit the jackpot.
That night, he watched Harry intently observing his moves and his body language, before approaching him after the bar owner kicked him out.
Again—he didn’t choose this path, it chose him.
Ezra didn’t even have the chance to speak because Harry was quick to confess that ‘he wasn’t dumb to not notice men stalking him’.
His agents were the best, so how did a man from a small town detect undercover agents?
He knew in that moment that he would work hard to recruit Harry, and ironically he didn’t have to ask twice.
From that day onwards, Harry climbed the ladder to the top with the help of his mentor. He found a purpose to live again, somewhere to cage his rage, and use his strategic thinking skills paired with his physical strength.
While most agents took time to adapt to the new environment, and around two years to be qualified as a field agent—Harry got his first mission in one year.
Not because Ezra secretly favored him compared to others, but because he managed to prove himself worthy, making the board demand his transfer to the field.
He was aware of the progress he made and with every milestone, his ego inflated a bit (and his biceps too).
He turned thirty-one recently, marking eleven years of being a skilled agent. Ezra’s retirement is approaching by the second and everyone is whispering rumors about Harry becoming the next chief director.
It’s a decision that hasn’t been discussed yet, but Ezra is aware that Harry will approve instantly because no one can do it like him. Besides, the agency is his entire life.
He has no loved ones and he dedicated years and hard work to the agency. He knows nothing else.
What could make Harry Styles so busy other than his position as a secret agent?
The agency is preparing for a major attack on a drug cartel, and Harry has been training everyone ruthlessly. The plan he devised was strategic and well-planned from A to Z. It can’t go wrong.
But for today, he allowed them some rest after some bargaining with the other trainer. So instead, he directed his focus towards other agents.
According to him, time can’t be wasted.
The room was filled with agents in every corner. Most of them were beginners while the others trained for their upcoming missions that weren’t as important as the drug cartel attack.
The smell of sweat and tiredness reeked from their exhausted but energetic bodies. Harry focused on strengthening their stamina because a weak one won’t benefit them in the field.
“Faster! A child can do better than you.” His voice echoed in the tight space as he stood in front of the lined agents on the ground.
Even his position whether he was sitting or standing declared his authority and sense of power. His arms were folded against his chest, showcasing his pumped biceps and his facial expression did not harbor any warm smile or softness. No one dared to look him in the eyes anyway.
“With a stamina like that, you’d be dead already!” His loud shouting wasn’t helping the poor beginner agents who cursed their luck that landed Harry as their trainer for the day.
Their current exercise was pushups. A basic one but effective in Harry’s opinion, but their exhaustion makes sense when he wants them to do 200 consecutive pushups without resting, and with sudden planks in between that don’t stop until he says so.
Harry may be a bit biased, but he fully believes that the other trainer (whom he doesn’t like) is being too soft with the newcomers. Something that shouldn’t happen.
He glanced at their worn-out faces and rolled his eyes before dismissing them.
“I’ll be discussing your weaknesses with Agent Ian. Go eat and rest but know that you shouldn’t be called agents for this shitshow.” He spat his criticism mercilessly uncaring for their feelings.
He watched them stumble out of the room, some of them limping as he remained in his place with the same posture of a leader.
Once everyone was out, his gaze drifted to the punching bag in the corner. He felt like it was calling for him despite the four-hour workout he did in the morning.
His thirst for combat or any type of martial arts could not be tamed. But upon gazing a bit too much at the punching bag, he remembered something he was supposed to do.
His legs immediately take action before his brain as he flees out of the room heading towards a private floor that is restricted for regular agents.
Only Harry, Ezra, high-ranking agents, and members of the board can access this floor. But for an unknown reason, Harry found himself giving Y/n access to his private gym.
There are many layers to things that shouldn’t happen but it seemed as if Harry didn’t care or was perhaps unaware of his actions.
Agents like Y/n shouldn’t be on this floor, but they also can’t be trained privately.
The first restriction is more important, but the second is rather for caution—to maintain a professional relationship between regular agents and higher rank ones.
All agents were trained in groups and if they needed to work on certain issues, their trainer would give them advice but not train them individually.
Harry doesn’t always train Y/n’s group but as of late, he noticed her lack of discipline and physical stamina when it comes to combat.
He knew that she wasn’t that weak which meant that she had been slacking off with training and that pissed him off.
So he ordered her to wait for him in room 309 at exactly two in the afternoon. His boots left an echo as he walked through the corridor with a confident stride. Yet, something kept poking at his brain allowing anxiety to settle in his stomach. He wasn’t entirely comfortable.
He pushed the door to the gym open, reaching his hand for the light switch. It was somewhat dim, obscuring Y/n from his view. She sat on the ground in a corner with her head tilted upwards. In the few seconds between moving her head and meeting his sharp eyes, he got to catch a glimpse of her in a calm state, almost unobserved. Even then, she looked obscenely beautiful.
“You’re late.” She gestured to the clock on the wall in a sarcastic tone that indicated his five-minute delay.
“No. You’re early.” He tried to hide his smirk before failing upon seeing the frown on her face.
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and supported her body using her hands to get up—something that caught Harry’s eye.
“You’re an agent. You shouldn’t act like a 70-year-old woman at a retirement home.” His tone could cut a vein open, but at this point, she kind of got familiar with it.
She avoided responding or looking him in the eye because one answer would drag the other and he would end up questioning her on her performance—and frankly, she doesn’t have a proper response for that.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t take it any further and instructs her to warm up for fifteen minutes in a corner.
She does so with exhaustion traveling through her veins. The only thing that helps her through it is the sight of his athletic body.
His shirt is still on but it perfectly outlines his biceps that he wraps around her body to manhandle her during sex—
She quickly shakes her head to rid herself of the sinful thoughts she’s having. But again—would it be so bad to crave something that happens every other day?
Their steamy encounters keep increasing behind closed doors, and he puts on his boss’s facade once they’re out. She’s not sure if she likes that or not, but either way, she doesn’t have a say in it.
Their relationship is strictly physical.
Even if her lips begged her to find his at random moments throughout the day, even if their naked bodies molded after sex, and even if she was awake when he kissed her temple.
“Okay, that’s it.” The expression on his face held ambiguous cues, but he refrained from saying anything.
She caught her breath as shame creeped up her face planting a rosy color on her cheeks. She walked over to him with her head hung low, and nails digging into her palm.
“I need you to do some boxing because your game is getting weak.” He sighed as disappointment reeked from his words, causing more redness to settle on her face.
He helped her wear the boxing gloves as he intently glanced at her worried expression.
The first ten minutes were okay. Some form of another warm-up in Harry’s opinion. He has seen her train many times before and by now she would have the bag swinging left and right.
It made him think back to her friendly match with another agent and how she got a hit to the stomach—if he hadn’t stopped it, other areas would have been affected as well.
Not to mention her stamina in recent training—Harry simply could not let her lose her strength out of everyone else.
“Focus harder.” His posture was a warning—an indication of his bubbling anger. His arms were crossed, giving more room for his biceps to rightfully appear.
His legs were parted as he stood motionless, simply burning Y/n’s shame with his piercing gaze. She could feel it. How he had something going on in his mind, aching to roll off his lips.
His jaw ticked while his eyes followed the movement of her hands in sync with the boxing bag. It was a disaster.
“You know who gives this fucking performance? A beginner.” His tone began to increase gradually.
She swallowed down her throat, trying to ignore his intimidating posture and body that could be warm at times and cold at others.
It wasn’t odd for him to be harsh and strict during training—except that he never spoke to her like this. Not even when she was snarky and replied at things that had nothing to do with her.
Superior agents were not allowed to train any lower-ranking agent privately, and she wasn’t an idiot to dismiss that rule. But why was he acting this way?
She punched harder gathering all the strength left in her muscles, for the bag to only move a bit farther. She almost lost her footing but kept going for him. She never wanted to disappoint him.
“A fucking shitshow.” He mumbled quietly under his breath—but she heard it, and it went straight through her heart like an arrow.
“For the love of god, you’re a skilled agent so act like one!” His shouting echoed through the room making her stop and glance at him.
He was visibly furious with a vein bulging from his neck. His hand was trembling and his breaths were laboured. She hasn’t seen him in such a state before, and she regrets that she just did.
No one wanted to be on the receiving end of his anger but especially not her.
Besides, underneath all the tough facade that she puts on and her bold replies, she’s very sensitive and completely vulnerable when it comes to him.
Getting shouted at and taking orders from superiors was just another day for agents, but Harry? She was fucking falling for him.
She sighed, gathering her pride before continuing to punch the bag, ignoring the signs her body was giving her to stop.
He observed her for a minute or two, with his eyes darting between her hands and the sway of the bag. He slid down to her legs, and how they were positioned and stationed.
He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and shook his head in frustration. Did everything she learn evaporate in thin air?
“If you were in the field right now, you’d be fucking dead.” He began walking around her, throwing one sharp comment after the other.
“Are your legs paralyzed? Are you supposed to stand like that when fighting?! His shouting kept getting louder, pushing at her tear duct to open.
He suddenly punched the bag with his bare hand causing it to swing way farther, almost hitting the mirror facing them.
“Is it that hard, Y/n?” He gestured to the swinging bag.
“Where is your strength!” He was fucking fuming.
What would he do if she went on a mission with such weakness? What would happen to her if he wasn’t there?
He was too occupied with his fears to notice her frantically taking the gloves off with tears streaming down her extremely rosy cheeks.
“Y/n…” He tried to speak but her sobbing was louder than his words.
It was just another training. He has been way harsher before but this was his first time seeing her cry because of him. It was more painful than a bullet.
“J-just stop!” Her words were barely coherent with how hard she was crying. He stood in front of her unable to do or say anything.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was never supposed to cry because of him and he shouldn’t have raised his voice this way.
The boxing gloves hit the ground as she hiccuped from sobbing. She picked up her bag from the ground and turned around to face him with red eyes and a broken expression.
“Leave me alone.” The loud thud of the door closing made him flinch. He still hasn’t moved an inch trying to grasp what he had done.
Being mean and strict was all he ever knew. He never toned it down for anyone and it didn’t reflect how he felt towards them. When it came to Y/n, it was more out of protection and fear of something happening to her. He wanted her to defend herself properly and be a skilled agent. He didn’t understand why she was slacking with training like that, missing some sessions, or letting other agents beat her.
She was an amazing agent and managed to reach the top ranks in a short period, just like him.
He lost himself while training her, but he shouldn’t have assumed that she could take all of that as a motivation. There’s no such thing as being gentle in the agency, and Y/n is one tough woman. Still, he didn’t speak to her like that before. If anything, she was the only agent he praised in his ten years of service.
Did that have to do with their secret meet-ups?
Whatever the reason, he fucked up. If someone made her cry, he wouldn’t let them see the light of the day again, and no he doesn’t know why he feels the need to protect her from everything or why he isn’t running after her this instant.
He’s a pretty shit communicator—that’s the only thing he knows.
“Harry.” Ezra snapped him out of his thoughts. He was standing in the doorway with a worried expression.
“In my office. Now.”
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Harry was all too familiar with this office. He has been here a million times for the good and bad. The leather sofa he’s resting on is somewhat his signature sofa, no one else uses it but him.
His legs are spread and his left knee is bouncing as his fingers tap repeatedly on the edge of the sofa. His expression is serious as always and holds no room for bargaining. If you get close enough, you’d hear his blood boiling in his veins and the echo of Y/n’s cries repeating in his head.
“Harry.” Ezra cleared his throat, letting out an exhale before clasping his hands together.
He didn’t need to wait for Harry to turn around and acknowledge him, he had his body language memorized by heart. He instantly caught on and noticed his agitation and stress—something that he doesn’t exhibit regularly.
“I will not question you as to why an agent like Y/n had access to this restricted floor.” Ezra trusted her but if it were a different agent, he could not let it slide easily.
“What I will ask is—why did she run from here crying?” He wasn’t born yesterday. Harry’s bias toward her and his extra attention was easy to catch, especially when he had known him for a long period.
His question was met with silence and the tightening of Harry’s jaw. He kept observing him shamelessly wondering when was the last time he showed such distress over another human being.
“At least tell me why you were training her privately. You have never done that nor should you, but what’s so simple—“
“She’s getting weaker!” Harry slammed his hand on the mahogany desk, catching Ezra off guard and spilling some of his coffee.
“Low stamina and endurance, weak punches, wrong posture, and allowing others to win in matches.” His nostrils flared while his hand trembled from the pent-up anger. The tick of his jaw was unsettling and his brows furrowed with great agitation.
Ezra remained calm partly because he was familiar with Harry’s outbursts, but also because he was shocked by his response.
It would be hard to recall a decade of knowing someone, but if he’s not mistaken, Ezra has never witnessed Harry giving two fucks about someone other than his late mother, let alone an agent.
But damn it if it didn’t make sense.
“So what? Many agents slack sometimes.”
“Well, she’s not any agent. She’s smart, strong, and a skilled agent. Have you thought about what would happen to her in the field?!” His body language was less tense, but his defense grew stronger giving Ezra the final piece of the puzzle.
As the chief director of the agency, he’s slightly disappointed by Harry’s lack of professionalism, but as his mentor and nonbiological father figure, he’s happy for him.
He’s on the road to finding love and caring for someone else is a promising step to de-freeze his cold heart.
Ezra didn’t convey any form of emotion and sported a poker face. Harry looked as if he was still gathering evidence in his mind while simultaneously waiting for Ezra to say something.
“A while ago, Y/n asked for my help.” Harry’s expression changed completely.
“Wha—“
“Patience Son.” He warned, gesturing for him to relax a bit—which he did reluctantly.
“She wasn’t feeling well and told me that she wanted to get some tests done.” The words rolled off his lips smoothly as if he wasn’t casually telling him that something was wrong with her. If it weren’t for Ezra, Harry would be halfway through the door right now.
“The only obstacle was you.”
“Me?” Harry’s voice was rather timid this time—another surprise for Ezra.
“Yes. If she asked for the agency’s doctor to perform them, then you would have known one way or another. The reason she avoided telling you remained unknown to me—but I did help her to get them done.” Harry’s mouth went dry and he felt his vision getting blurry.
Y/n was not feeling fine, and he thought she was slacking.
He was frozen in his place, stuck to the sofa trying to comprehend what his mentor just said. His chest tightened and his heartbeats increased gradually.
“I—“
“The tests came back and the doctor I contacted said that it’s mild anemia. Nothing too scary, it’s treatable.” Ezra stopped right there after noticing the change of color on Harry’s face. He looked like he was about to faint.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He immediately passed him a water bottle and watched him take a few sips with furrowed brows.
What is up with this boy, Ezra thought.
“Do you need food—“
“She doesn’t have a history of anemia, where the fuck did it come from?” He returned to his normal angry self by posing more questions.
“The doctor said that mild anemia can develop suddenly—due to lifestyle practices of course but Harry it’s manageable.“ He could no longer tell his body language. Was he angry? sad? overwhelmed?
Harry stared at the wall, avoiding eye contact but continued his knee bouncing. He unconsciously began cracking his knuckles as Ezra’s presence was erased from his mind.
Only Y/n occupied his thoughts.
His little minx.
She was sick, refused to inform him and all he did was make it worse. His nails dug into the leather sofa, almost tearing off a piece with how hard he pressed.
He was a fucking idiot for not noticing her cues. What kind of sick bastard was he?
“Harry!” Ezra stood in front of him, snapping his fingers to coax him back from his dissociation.
He had a file in his hand that he threw in Harry’s lap. “These are her tests. Take them and fix what you have done son. I know that you hate apologizing—but sometimes it’s what you should do with certain people like Y/n.”
Harry was up on his feet in seconds heading towards the door with the file in his hand.
“And Harry?”
He waited for him to turn around before continuing.
“I know nothing about this.” A hint of a smile was painted across his face with some mischief.
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Y/n was curled up on her couch under her fuzzy blanket with a half-eaten chocolate bar next to her. Her tears barely dried before another wave came through upon remembering what unfolded a few hours ago.
She glanced to the other side of the room where her beloved (and only) companion was staring.
“He’s a meanie TimTim.” She wiped her tears using her sleeves as her sniffling increased.
Unfortunately, her companion cannot comfort her verbally. TimTim is a penguin plushie that has been with her through everything. The nature of her job prevented her from adopting a pet—something that she wanted so badly. Her constant absence did not make her qualified to look after a small creature, but TimTim sufficed.
“…but he has a good dick… and a good heart sometimes.” She rolled her eyes at her stupidness. No matter how badly someone hurt her, she’d always find an excuse to justify their actions.
Her recent argument with Harry had many layers to it. To begin with, he wasn’t exactly a love-dovie type of person. His attitude toward her was slightly less bitchy compared to other agents—but she also drove him nuts by throwing back sassy replies and remarks.
He was the most stubborn and cold-blooded man she had ever met, not because he liked to do it for fun or out of sadist tendencies—it was just his character.
Discipline, Respect, Loyalty. Those were his most sacred traits. Most agents nowadays were weak according to him, so he found himself resorting to tougher training and a harsher approach.
Her eyes didn’t swell with tears because of his sharp words and anger. Frankly, she knew how he could turn into someone else during training, and rightfully so.
But validation from him mattered. If she placed her biased feelings aside, she would find that he was her favorite superior. He’s a talented agent with the right principles and morals. She looked up to him.
She never wanted to disappoint him, but she managed to.
The more she thought about it, the more tears flowed out of her tear duct. The fury and frustration that he expressed pained her, it was so different from his usual smirks that were followed by praises.
When she could no longer handle his disappointment, she broke down revealing all the ache that she had been carrying.
Letting him down was never on her agenda, but neither was getting sick. She began noticing her decrease in performance a while ago, along with fainting twice. She dismissed it thinking that she just needed more sleep or perhaps more days off.
But when the symptoms persisted, she knew something was off. Telling Harry was not an option, mostly because she didn’t know how he would react but it also felt like something that must be kept a secret from him, so she resorted to Ezra.
He hasn’t replied but she spotted him from her peripheral vision upon leaving earlier today, and her emotions were all over the place to give two fucks, which explains why she came to her apartment.
Usually field agents like her sleep at the agency and dedicate their time to the secret service. She was one among many who became orphans at a young age, and this made it easier for the agency to make them stay there instead of in apartments.
No loved ones always meant a safer life for people like them.
Still, Y/n liked the idea of having a designated space for her. If she was destined to be lonely, she might as well learn to enjoy it.
So despite not being allowed to leave without prior notice, she immediately found herself in her cozy flat munching on chocolate and ranting to TimTim as she hiccuped and sniffled repeatedly.
What confused her even more was his expression of regret upon seeing her cry. She was too upset to register it, but now that she let everything out and recalled what went down, she was certain that it wasn’t something usual of him.
His entire demeanour switched and he was confused whether to step forward or backward as he softly whispered her name.
Did he act the same way with other agents? Fuck no.
But does that mean that he regretted what he had done?
Maybe his eyes that tried to decode her feelings exposed him, or his hand that unconsciously moved forward towards her body—
Y/n covered her face with her hands and groaned loudly as if her thoughts would stop colliding. Everything was puzzling her more and more. Was he disappointed or not?
The loud banging on her door pulled her out of her tangled thoughts and vulnerable character.
She certainly wasn’t around enough to become besties with her neighbors or have friends to pop in for girls’ night.
Perhaps the agency sent someone to get her, but how would they know that she came here? Maybe they just tried their luck—
The banging got louder as if it was a warning. Whoever was outside, planned to come inside no matter what.
Y/n immediately switched into agent mode and grabbed a gun from the nearest drawer. Better be safe than sorry.
She walked slowly to the door with careful footsteps and high heartbeats. The door didn’t have a hole in it, so she’d either have to ask who was outside—or open the door.
But her guest beat her to it.
“Y/n…open the door.” Harry’s voice made her take a step back. The fresh tear stains on her cheeks burned upon hearing his words. What brought him here?
Hell, a serial killer would’ve been less surprising.
“No.” She lowered her gun and relaxed her shoulders a bit. More tears threatened to fall as she slowly turned around toward the couch.
He hasn’t been to her apartment before which means that he had some fun with her record. He’s most likely here to drive her back to the agency where she’ll receive a warning for leaving—what else could be here for?
“Y/n… I can pick the lock, break the door, or you can just let me in.” He huffed in annoyance at her stubbornness. She might as well turn on the TV to ignore him.
They both knew that he wasn’t joking. He could break in if he wanted, but Y/n was too busy trying to understand why he came here.
“Listen, I know about the lab tests.” Y/n’s eyes widened in shock. Damn it, Ezra.
So this is what he’s here for. A double warning. One for leaving and one for not informing him of her sickness.
She was near the door in two seconds, unlocking it and facing him despite her messy look and tired teary face.
“Since when—“ She meant to stay focused. She really did. But as usual, he found a way to make her forget about her anger.
He was dressed normally. It was odd to see him in something outside of his work attire, even if it was a simple hoodie with matching joggers. He looked cozy.
But what made her jaw drop was the fresh bouquet of yellow tulips in his right hand.
He got her flowers?
He cleared his throat making her realize how shocked she looked, and he didn’t blame her. She was the first woman he bought flowers for, ever.
The sight of her swollen eye and dried tears made him tighten his grip on the bouquet. A sight that will never leave his mind.
“I—“ She tried to let out something but she failed and moved aside for him to enter.
“Why the tulips?” She stood with her arms crossed trying to decipher what was going on.
“You like them.” His answer was short and clear but it held more meaning. She doesn’t recall letting him in on her favorite flowers—
“I overheard you telling Tania.” He shrugged as if it was not a big deal to eavesdrop on other agents and then memorize Y/n’s favorite flower.
He scanned the apartment with his eyes carefully—a habit of his for safety. It was more out of curiosity as if it would whisper to him secrets about Y/n.
“Why are you here?” Her voice seemed timid and broken.
He ignored her query and continued scanning his surroundings for a hint of her personality.
“Chocolate…?” He furrowed his eyebrows at her but it was hard to focus or look her in the eye without noticing her puffy face.
“Here to lecture me?” She scoffed, walking past him to the safe corner she made on her couch.
She covered herself and returned to her previous position as if her superior at work was not standing before her—with her favorite flowers still in his hand.
What the fuck is up with the flowers, she thought.
“If you want to stand there and give your lecture, then be my guest.” She mumbled coldly without blinking once. The coziness from the soft blanket slowly came back, but Harry’s cold stare fought it.
The last thing she expected him to do was sit next to her and rest his hands on her legs. She had a billion questions swimming in her head and she bit her tongue to not ramble and ask what the fuck was going on.
“I’m Sorry.” It rolled off his lips so easily, but her ears couldn’t process it. She stayed silent and did not move an inch as she stared ahead, ignoring his warm touch.
If she can’t understand anything, she’ll just listen and observe cluelessly.
“I had no idea that you were sick— I wouldn’t have pushed you this much if I did. But still, that’s not an excuse. I shouldn’t push you at all.” His words were direct and his voice was unshakeable. He was fully confident of what he was saying, with no shame.
She swallowed down her throat, fighting the tears threatening to fall down her face.
“I spoke with Ezra…and he gave me your tests. A doctor reviewed them and said it’s mild anemia.” The tears fell silently on her face disobeying her. Harry stopped speaking as if he felt her sadness.
“Could you get up a bit? Hmm?” He rubbed soothing circles on her skin and waited patiently for her answer.
She slowly lifted herself despite her reluctance, but still refused to look him in the eye. He can see her tears falling from the side and it makes him want to punch a wall.
“Attagirl. Look at me please.” He stroked her cheek softly with his knuckles.
She slowly turned her face in his direction as his hand reached out to wipe her tears.
“You’re pretty when you cry, but I don’t like it.” He whispered with his voice being barely audible. His eyes were fixated on her gorgeous lashes that she batted at him. How did she exist like an angel so casually?
“Yeah well, it was you who made me cry.” She mumbled like a child, crossing her arms at her chest.
“I’m a dickhead.” He laughed at the cute face she made with his hand still wiping any new tears that fall.
He’ll be damned if he’ll let her cry again.
“I know.” She rolled her eyes and reached out for the file next to him.
“Y/n—“
“What did the doctor say?”
“Like I said, it’s mild anemia. But nothing too dangerous. I got you the supplement he prescribed.” Harry gestured to the bottle placed near the flowers.
“And you missy will have your diet monitored by me. I want you eating iron-filled foods—“ He barely completely his sentence before Y/n was groaning loudly and slumping backward on the couch.
“Get up. Don’t make me tickle you.” He warned and she lifted herself within seconds with a pout on her face.
“Now the question is… why were you ignoring your needs?” It was the only question that she wished he wouldn’t ask. But nothing can stop him from knowing what he wants.
She stared at TimTim despite his piercing gaze on her hoping that the plushie could rescue her somehow.
“I wasn’t ignoring them, I guess I simply didn’t realize.” She swallowed down her throat, avoiding eye contact.
“You didn’t want to tell me.” He pressed further. His tone was soft but impatient—he’d beg on his knees if he had to.
“I—“ She focused her gaze on TimTim again causing Harry to turn his head around for a look.
“A plushie?” He scrunched his face in shock.
“So?” She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms against her chest. She seemed ready to punch him if he made fun of her.
“No comment.” He raised his hands in the air letting out a soft smile. It was a rare sight, but a beautiful one. She liked seeing him smile as his dimples popped up on his soft face.
“Don’t run away from the question though.” He whispered with his eyes begging her for the truth.
Her tears had dried but her face was still puffy and her eyes were swollen. There weren’t any tears to wipe but that didn’t stop Harry from reaching out his hand to caress her cheeks.
His warm touch was weird to decipher, it seemed able to burn her at times, just like his words.
“I didn’t want to disappoint you.” She blurted out suddenly before inhaling sharply in shock as if her mouth betrayed her without permission.
Harry’s facial expression shifted from softness to something she couldn’t decode—but the pain was recognizable.
She lowered her gaze as her cheeks became flushed with embarrassment. His hand slowly inched away from her skin, feeling unworthy of touching her.
“You could never disappoint me.” He whispered it like a promise. A sacred one. He couldn’t believe that she would think like that even for a second.
He was so fucking proud of her. He pushed her earlier today but he was lenient with her before. A bullet wound would’ve been better to take than her confession.
She mattered to him whether he was aware or not but the clutch in his chest must’ve given him a hint.
“Look at me, please.”
She lifted her chin reluctantly and looked him in the eye. This was her first time seeing him this vulnerable—it was so easy to read his eyes.
“There’s no way you could disappoint me. Ever.”
“I slacked in performance—“
“Fuck that. You need rest.” He shook his head, denying all the false thoughts she had.
“What I did earlier was a mistake and it won’t happen again.” It was more of a vow than a promise.
Silence filled the apartment after his last sentence. They shamelessly stared into each other’s eyes despite the intrusion of TimTim. Harry knew that if he didn’t do or say something—he’d have his lips on her in mere seconds.
“I should get going.” He cleared his throat and stood up.
Y/n was still going through a rollercoaster of emotions. She ached to ask him something back, it was fair to do so. But instead, she decided to let him go.
“Also…” He fetched a paper out of his hand and left it on her couch. “You’re allowed a week of rest. That means no training, no gym, and you can stay here.”
Surprise was prominent on her face. She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it.
“No objections. I need you to rest.” She’s not sure if this was allowed—if the board knew about the leave he granted her. It seemed to pile up amongst many of the other things she wondered about.
“Okay…” She balanced herself on her feet and walked him to the door.
“This doesn’t mean I’m done being mad at you.” She mumbled sarcastically.
“Good. I like it when you’re bratty.” He winked at her as he opened the door.
She watched him walk away before turning around and looking at her.
“Oh and Y/n? I’ll have a customized meal plan delivered to your house. For fuck’s sake don’t live off chocolate.”
“But—“
“No buts and take your supplement.” His voice echoed in the building as he descended the stairs.
She stood motionless at the door with her arms folded against her chest as she scrunched her face and rolled her eyes at his bossy orders.
“Don’t roll your eyes missy.” His voice was distant signaling that he reached the ground floor. She slammed the door shut in response, unable to contain the smile that crept up on her face.
She didn’t lie to TimTim—he does have a good heart sometimes, but discipline remains cherished.
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harrysonlylover · 6 months
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Red Line*
Summary: Harry has some lines that he sticks to, except that you were never one to oblige.
Or Harry getting jealous.
Trope: Agent! Harry
Warnings: Mean Harry, Dom Harry, oral scene, hair pulling, choking.
WC: 4k
This is set before At All Costs
Main Masterlist
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Harry has been acting weird lately.
Y/n wants to believe that it’s a coincidence, or that he’s just delighting in his position as a superior, but she knows deep down that there’s more to it.
His attitude towards her keeps changing, he’s either completely stern or completely soft. The latter is more confusing for her given his persona. It’s even more concerning when it’s shown in front of other agents.
The only logical reasoning would be the physical relationship that they have. They hook up when he approaches her (which has been increasing lately). But getting on his nerves is her favorite activity, so sometimes she barges into his office or room and initiates the first move. Of course, she does that because he specified that sex will happen only when he says so. Though his plan doesn’t seem to work as he obliges to her wishes every single time and fucks her into the next training.
It started almost six months ago when he really had it with her during an important training. She talked back at him in front of relevant agents from a different country. He commanded her to leave and wait in his office where he was going to issue a punishment for her. That went completely sideways when the verbal discipline he wanted to perform turned into degradation as they screwed each other’s brains.
They never actually agreed to a certain timing, Harry would simply show up and knock the air out of her lungs with a hungry kiss. He’s someone who likes order in both his personal and professional life, Y/n disobedience rendered him attractive to her in an odd way.
The nice outcome was the raw and dirty sex they had. The only orders she obeyed were the ones he gave her behind closed doors.
It isn’t exactly an ideal position because intimate relationships are not to be found in the workplace; especially in this dangerous field. That wasn’t supposed to be an issue since it was common knowledge that they hated each other’s guts.
But did they really?
Harry’s weird behavior did not go unnoticed by Y/n, maybe it’s just their chemistry increasing but at this point, she can’t figure out anything. Lying to herself won’t benefit her; she likes him and she really shouldn’t but it’s already too late.
He isn’t a casual kisser but that changed recently. He attaches his mouth to her’s the entire time as if they got glued somehow.
He developed the habit of resting his lips against her forehead during missionary, leaving a subtle kiss that she didn’t even catch up on until a while after.
Despite the sexual energy they shared, the stolen glances and lingering touches, by far his lips subtly brushing against her face was the closest form of obedience he had ever experienced.
Their bodies worked together in sync. A kiss here, a kiss there. Warmth here and warmth there.
They despised each other outside of the bedroom, Harry can’t handle someone who questions his authority and Y/n is exactly that.
She messes with his perspective about everything he has been taught, his morals, his personality, and his methods of training. Whenever they’re found in the same room together, know that some snarky comments will be thrown.
He hadn’t seen her in two days. It’s normal to go a while without seeing a colleague or an agent as everyone’s missions can vary. He lived his life normally without seeing lifelong friends for months, unaware of their safety and whereabouts. But the moment the clock strikes 10 in the morning, he’s up on his feet strolling to Agent Marks’ office. All agents that he bumps into either move out of his way after greeting him or quickly hide inside a room.
And that is Harry Styles.
“Marks where is Miss Y/n?” Harry practically barged into the office making the agent in front of him jump on his feet in a matter of seconds.
“Mo—rning S-ir” He stuttered in shock at the sudden entrance before processing what Harry asked him and turning his attention to the computer where he typed Y/n’s name as Harry gave him a cold stare.
“It looks like she’s scheduled to return today.” He answers Harry whose face shows a hint of relief upon hearing the information.
He walked out of the office without any other word and headed straight to the spacious gym where other agents were training as well. This time no one halted their movements or walked away, only because everyone wanted to admire his stamina while working out.
All agents were well trained and monitored, just because Harry radiated authority does not mean others were lower than him. He’s a well respected man.
The attention in the room turned to him as he covered his hands in boxing gloves and began punching the bag in front of him.
Watching him exercise was similar to indulging in a movie about a ruthless athlete. He punched it nonstop as sweat dripped down his forehead until it ultimately covered his pump chest.
His stamina was otherworldly. He didn’t reach this position for nothing. While everyone admired him and secretly wished they could mimic his moves, Harry’s mind was somewhere else.
He couldn’t stop thinking about a certain girl and her safety. He’s not sure which is irritating him more; the fact that he’s unaware of her situation or why he’s so concerned with her.
His punches were coordinated yet extremely intense. His biceps flexed with every move and his abs contracted under the dim light of the gym.
He released every emotion that he couldn’t decipher into that punching bag. He didn’t realize how far he went until his friend Zayn stood in front of him and caught the punching bag in his arms.
“Mate it’s gonna fall off the hook.” He warned him, catching his eyes in a concerned stare.
Harry looked around him only to be met with the sight of an empty gym and a clock that was striking 1 in the afternoon.
He’s been here for three hours?
He walked slowly to the nearest wall where he rested his back before sitting on the ground.
He lost track of time as his mind was conquered by Y/n. He shouldn’t be thinking about her or anything that’s related to her. And definitely not about the mole on her left hip and the softness of her—
“Are you okay?” Zayn rescued him from his merciless brain. Harry’s chest heaved as he closed his eyes to gain a moment of calmness that he rarely ever enjoys.
The bruises on his knuckles that were healing are now visible again and he can’t help but remember how Y/n expressed worry over them.
Does she care about him?
Is she thinking about him?
“I’m fine.” He replied to Zayn to avoid further questioning. He’s aware that his friend can get worried sometimes but Harry is a closed book. There is no need to confide anyone in.
He walked away after catching his breath, leaving Zayn standing in the middle of the room with unanswered questions.
A cold shower will always soothe Harry right after exercising, but especially when he’s losing control of his thoughts.
As the icy water engulfed his skin in a pleasurable sting, he rubbed his face and eyes to avoid the sinful images that were flooding his mind.
Although he shouldn’t, he realized that he never fucked Y/n in the shower. It didn’t take long for him to harden at the mere thought of their skin together under the water.
He can even imagine the way she’d rest her head against his body, bite his skin, and let out lustful moans that haunt his daydreams.
He is absolutely fucked.
“Fuck’s sake.” He tilts his head backward, allowing the cold water to drip down his toned body reaching his erect cock, earning a hiss from him.
He could fuck anyone right now just to get it out of his system. In fact, he could do that at any given time and yet he always holds back.
The gravitational pull Y/n has on him is insane. He wants her body attached to his at all times.
He showered quickly after muttering under his breath about self-discipline and wrapped a towel around his waist.
His mind was so occupied with Y/n that he forgot all about bringing in clothes with him. He’ll have to step out with only the towel covering his body, but that wasn’t much of an issue as he assumed that the center would be somewhat empty at this hour.
He strolled down the hallway with the towel as a layer for his lower body. The shower helped his nerves to calm down after all the torturous thinking.
He was headed towards his office that he stays in on most days before hearing muffled voices coming from the gym.
Normally, he wouldn’t give two fucks. He can’t keep up with every single agent and he only interferes if he observes something against the rules.
But the soft voice followed by giggles that his ear can detect from miles away—that is his business.
He dismisses the fact that he’s half-naked as he directs his attention to the gym area where he sees Y/n, still in her field clothes standing next to an agent who is clearly thirsting for her.
“I’m glad that you’re back.” The agent practically had his body glued to Y/n.
“Hmm yeah?” Y/n used her flirtatious tone; the same one that had Harry weak in the knees. He clenched his fists, trying to hold back from using the training he had today to deform the guy’s face. All the stress that the shower took away came back and bubbled through his bloodstream.
“Of course. I missed you and I was wondering if you would like—“ Harry interrupted by pushing the door open with a force, catching them off guard.
“Hello Sir—“
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” His anger was visible and he looked like he was about to get reckless.
“Training sir-“
“Training your flirting methods?! They sure as hell suck.” Harry dripped poison with every word and his body language indicated how furious he was.
Y/n stood unbothered. She was amused even. Harry could easily tell that which pissed him off even more. Her eyes scanned his body the same way she eyes a candy.
The guy was swallowing down his throat, inattentive to the shared glances between Harry and Y/n. All he cared about in the moment was not upsetting his boss, and trying not to appear as a total idiot in front of Y/n.
“Get the fuck away from my face right this instant. Your actions will have a consequence.” Harry’s voice was threatening and devilish as if he enjoyed being this rough with agents. In fact, he lived for the thrill of it.
The agent scurried out of the room as fast as he could to avoid eye contact with Harry who was staring at him with a clenched jaw and bulging eyes.
If he wasn’t angry already, Y/n surely knew how to press his buttons. She casually headed towards the door with an amused grin planted on her face.
“Not so fast Y/n.” He grabbed her arm before she got to pass by him. She rolled her eyes instantly and looked away.
“Who the hell are you rolling your eyes at?” He grabbed her jaw with his hand, forcing her to look up at him.
“Is there anyone else in the room?” She replied in a sassy tone, as she fluttered her eyelashes at him.
His nostrils were flaring and she could almost hear his teeth grinding together. The look he gave her warned her that she was in for it. But obviously, she pressed further.
He glanced subtly behind him to make sure that the hallway was empty before tightening his grip on her arm and dragging her behind him.
“Where are you—“
“I don’t want to hear you talking.” She had really messed up.
When she returned from her mission, she craved nothing more than his body against her. It tormented her on the field, but she was instead met with an agent who was pining after her when she was not even interested.
She flirted back because she saw Harry’s silhouette while the guy was too busy staring at her.
Teasing Harry was her favorite activity. They were not official nor expressed romantic gestures but Y/n was curious to see Harry’s reaction upon seeing her with other men, and that guy was the perfect opportunity for her.
She didn’t have a particular response in mind, maybe just Harry being nonchalant but she certainly did not see this coming.
He guided her to his office where he shut the door behind him with a thud. He released her arm and stood in front of her as he looked down at her with furrowed eyebrows and a clenched jaw.
“What the fuck was that Y/n?” His tone fluctuated between high and low as he cornered her, making her lean against the door while his arms caged her on both sides.
“I don’t know. What was it?” She pretended to be clueless, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth; a move that he adores.
“So now you know nothing about being a slut?” He spat with anger, attempting to avoid the way she was tugging at her lip.
Their bodies were dangerously close, he wanted to bury his face in her neck and give her love bites that she’d have to hide but feel their sting whenever pressed on. Y/n craved sinking herself down on his cock and caressing his face as he let out the most beautiful sighs. But Harry’s head was spinning with jealousy and Y/n opened Pandora’s box.
“Are you jealous Harry?” She cooed, placing her hand on his toned chest which was still moist from the shower. His pine shower gel was everywhere.
“It’s sir for you.” He moved her hand away from his body and wrapped it around her throat.
He didn’t want to admit it verbally, but he was about to burn the entire room when he saw her breathing next to a man who wasn’t him. These feelings of possessiveness keep increasing and he can’t fight his urges no matter how disciplined he is.
“I left for two days and you got all cranky.”
“Then you came back and started acting like a whore.” His grip on her throat tightened as he inched his face closer to her.
“We were just chatting.” She rolled her eyes again.
“First of all, you can only roll your eyes when my cock is stretching your pussy…” His face was practically glued to hers as his deep voice sent shivers through her body. His cologne made a complete mess out of her.
“… Second of all, he wants to fuck you and that’s my duty only. Do you understand?” His tone was a mix of possessiveness and softness.
“Yes.” Her brain barely processed left his mouth.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes sir.”
With Harry towering over her, she took a quick moment to ogle his body. There’s a reason she likes it when he chokes her; other than the tingly feeling she gets when his hand covers her throat—his veins drench her panties.
They extend along his forearm down to his hand that she stares at during training. The more he tightens his grip—the more his biceps flex. His pumped chest and chiseled abs are a bit moist from the shower, and incredibly smooth because he applies a lotion. The towel is low on his waist giving a scandalous display of his toned V line, and an appearance of the ferns tattoo.
The water covering his curls dripped down to her chest then sternum; drop after the other before he lowered his face to catch them with his tongue. It felt warm against her skin—seeing him fresh out of the shower had her lusting for him to fuck her under the water.
His tongue moved against her skin, catching the fallen droplets before reaching her neck where he sucked harshly on her skin.
He pulled away abruptly offering her his devilish grin.
“Kneel.”
He switched back to his authoritative tone, he knows how much she loves being treated like a slut. She acted like one anyway.
“Yes sir.” She gradually went down on her knees, with her hands trailing his body just so she could take the towel off. His cock stood against his stomach, beads of precum glistening on his tip.
“Don’t think for one second that this is a reward. Your mouth is nothing but a fuck toy.” He grabbed her ponytail in one hand and inserted his finger in her mouth with the other.
She sucked on his thumb, looking up at him with ‘fuck me eyes’ as she shamelessly continued to ogle his muscles. Her view was perfect. His V line and the trimmed hair had her pussy clenching around nothing.
She stuck her tongue out at him daring him to not hold back. She pushes his buttons every time so she can earn what she wants: rough sex and soft aftercare.
“Such an eager slut. Drooling for cock.” He slapped his cock on her face making her try to suck on it.
“Only your cock sir.” She knew that this would get him all worked up.
“Damn right. Only mine Y/n.” He grunted, guiding his cock to her rosy lips. She licked the precum off his sensitive tip earning a hiss from him.
Her tongue worked its way along his shaft with one of her hands cupping his balls. She maintained eye contact with him for the thrill.
Her mouth released scandalous moans to show him that she likes this. Her hand stroked his length while her tongue fixated on his tip.
“Sluts don’t get to enjoy pleasure.” He pulled his cock out of her mouth with a pop making her whine.
He spat on his shaft before bringing it to her lips again and thrusting it all in one go. She gagged immediately and tried her best to bob her head against it. He slapped her hand away when she tried to touch his length and began thrusting his hips into her mouth.
“Can you hear that? The sound of your pathetic gagging? Way better than your sassy talk.” His voice wavered at the end when his cock reached the back of her throat.
He had to balance between tilting his head backward from pleasure and looking down to see her beautiful ruined face.
Her cheeks hollowed around his shaft as he used her mouth. Her gagging had him weak in the knees, not to mention the tears streaming down her face along with her messy hair strands.
“That’s it, little minx. Make your throat ache.” He stroked her head before pushing it against his shaft, holding it for a few seconds, and pulling out.
She coughed heavily; trying to catch her breath as precum and saliva dripped down from her mouth to her chest.
“Aw, would you look at that?” He swiped his fingers along her mouth, catching their mixed juices together just so he could lick it.
“Whose cum is that hm? Whose cock are you choking on?” He asked with a raspy voice that had her squirming.
“You sir.”
“Hmm like music to my ears.” He took in her puppy eyes and ruined face for a minute or two, before thrusting his cock back in her mouth.
Her tongue felt so fucking warm that he had to restrain himself from cumming. He didn’t lie when he said that her mouth was his fuck toy. His hips rolled forward as he pushed her head on his length back and forth, letting out audible moans.
“This is the only cock you can suck Y/n.” He gritted through his teeth as he fucked her mouth mercilessly.
“When you wake up in the morning with a sore throat, you better keep that in mind.” Her whines were loud through the gagging and choking. Of course, her squirming never fails to make him smirk. She’s sassy until he makes her needy; that’s when sub-Y/n comes out to play.
“Oh poor baby, does your pussy need a cock to fill it?” He slowed down to watch more saliva leak from the corners of her mouth and to hear her beg for a release.
“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.” He sped up again—on purpose. She dug her nails into his thighs and pushed her head against his cock till her nose bumped his pelvis.
This exact moment altered his brain chemistry—she silently choked on his cock, a tear streaming down her cheek as she whimpered eagerly with puppy eyes.
She lived for this—she wanted him to use her.
He refrained from guiding her anymore as she took the initiative by herself and fucked her mouth.
“So dumb for my cock aren’t you?” He rolled his eyes in ecstasy when she swiped her tongue against his swollen tip.
His length had grown since she first began sucking it due to swelling—but that didn’t stop her from taking it all inside his mouth.
He felt his cock beginning to twitch which she seemed to enjoy. Of course, she’d want his load.
“Time to use your mouth as my cum dump, isn’t that right little minx?” Her muffled moan and gagging sent him over the edge.
He didn’t hold back and released his load inside her mouth. His moans and curses filled the room as he kept letting out one rope after the other of his warm cum.
Y/n’s mouth overflowed as she eagerly swallowed it while some leaked out of the corner of her mouth.
“Take my cum, little minx.” He panted heavily—prompting his muscles to contract as his hand caressed Y/n’s cheek.
She took his cum every single time without hesitation, the same way he devours her cunt for breakfast.
He pulled out with a hiss—he was still leaking but he didn’t want to pressure her even though he knew she’d want it.
She was trying to lick every drop from the corners of her mouth. Her view was even better now—he looked heavenly with his body just standing there as his cock leaked on her face.
He kneeled to her level and lifted her body off the ground with one arm, before placing her on his desk. He was still experiencing the high of the orgasm—but he wanted to make sure she was okay.
She did not use her safe word and he wonders if she ever will—she likes it way too rough.
He wiped her face with tissues, pressing his lips against her temple like he always does. She rested her head against his shoulder as he stroked her head.
They never discussed his gentleness in the aftercare. It was the bare minimum of course, but sometimes he liked to pretend that it was more than that.
It was an excuse to give her love. To tip the universe off its balance.
“Y/n?”
“Hmm?”
“This is the last time I wish to see you flirting with another man.” His tone remained neutral, but it was an order. A strict one.
“Don’t want to anyway.” She buried her face in his chest.
Her response caught him off guard. He can’t push away his possessive thoughts for long—but he can’t confess either.
He pulled away momentarily to fetch her a water bottle from his mini fridge. He helped her have some sips before wiping her mouth and kissing it—again.
Her mouth was addictive and damn it was he an addict.
He sticks to a lot of rules in his life—yet her lips feel so forbidden, inviting him into a world free of order.
She was his kryptonite.
His red line that no one would survive crossing.
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harrysonlylover · 6 months
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Agent Harry Masterlist
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A series of One-shots and Blurbs in the universe of strict Agent!Harry and sassy Y/n.
At All Costs (Harry loses his mind when Y/n gets hurt on a mission)
Red Line* (Harry doesn’t hold back when he sees Y/n flirting with another agent)
Discipline (Agent Harry cherishes discipline, but he doesn’t like the fact that Y/n has been lacking it)
Ride Along* (Summary: Y/n is feeling bored alone at her apartment, so Harry takes her for a ride)
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harrysonlylover · 15 days
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Agentrry Sneaky!
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“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.”
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harrysonlylover · 6 months
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what was the moment where they both knew that they were in love with each other in the agent Harry/Y/N universe?
Also does Agent Harry seem like the type to properly ask her out?
Hi sweetheart! Sorry it took me a while to answer. I was thinking about it!
So I think of agentrry as the “she fell first but he fell harder” trope. As I mentioned before Harry is very magnetic and obv she noticed him before he did. She’s had the cutest little crush on him that TRIPLED when they began hooking up. So for Y/n it was easy to tell that she’s in love and the more they had sex the more harder she fell. It only developed for her but she knew all along.
As for Harry, this is definitely a bit more special. He pushed himself his entire life to be respected and in a good position, he did not have time for romantics. Obv when they had sex, their energies just matched. He became hungry for more and he convinced himself that she was simply just a good fuck. But he began to worry about her, look out for her, think about her and what she’s doing, if she ate and how she’s spending her days. Sometimes he leans against the gym door to watch her as she trains, and maybe he’d let a small smile slip.
Though the moment that had him confessing was when she got hurt. it felt like a slap across his face. He should’ve never forgotten how dangerous their jobs are and that any of them could die at any given moment. So he did not hold back and confessed his love.
His definition of a date is certainly different lmao. His dates would probably consist of : bike riding, shooting activities, camping, MAKING HER HIS GYM BUDDY!!
At some point he’s like what if she wants something else?? It’d be so cute to witness a grumpy beefy scary man trying to figure out what to do for his girl. So he picks her up for a movie night and observes her facial expressions to see if she likes it and THEN, he does the most unexpected thing EVER. He kisses her cheek and doesn’t even realise what he’s done until she’s blushing. I’ll let you imagine the rest🤭😉
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harrysonlylover · 5 months
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When Agentrry trains with y/n because he knows the muscles turn her on🫢
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harrysonlylover · 6 months
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The character that reminds me of Agentrry:
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harrysonlylover · 4 months
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THE VEST—BICEPS— PHYSIQYE— THAT’S AGENT HARRYYY
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harrysonlylover · 11 days
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Why is this thing that he’s wearing making him look like agentrry with a shield😭
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harrysonlylover · 5 months
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*grips wood* THIS. IS. AGENT. HARRY.
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harrysonlylover · 6 months
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I can’t explain but Agent!Harry vibes✨✨✨
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harrysonlylover · 6 months
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NOT THIS APPEARING ON MY FYP WHEN I TOLD U GUYS DAYS AGO THAT AGENT HARRY IS FOUR FROM DIVERGENT.
GUYS THAT’S HIM YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND. THE ATTITUDE. THE POSITION. THE STRICTNESS.
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