5sos & 1d Smut

Harry: Only Thing You Will Be Riding

She had just parked the car when she realized the empty spot by her. The spot where Harry's motorcycle stayed. She immediately got off the car and eyed the floor. There was a line of tire marks as if the bike was ridden out of the garage. Only one person had access to that house and the key to the bike.

Harry.

Harry rode his motorcycle.

Again.

After countless arguments about the bike Harry still didn't see why she was so afraid and angry that he bought a bike. They've had numerous arguments about the bike. She'd given him valid points as to how dangerous and stupid purchasing a bike was. Harry had gone on and said he'd be careful and he'd be safe but she wouldn't agree. She COULDN'T agree. For god sakes, he's like a fucking baby giraffe learning how to walk; and that's on a good day! She's seen him fall plenty of times to know he wouldn't hold his balance for too long on that god-forsaken bike!

"I'm going to kill him, Tator!" Her German Shepard ran up to her. He walked around, rubbing his fur against her bare legs and let out a whine for her to pet him. She patted her hand on his head and thanked him for the comfort before she headed out of their bedroom and to the kitchen, filling his bowl with dog food. She zipped the bag up and threw it in frustration just thinking about Harry riding the bike on the freeway. What the fuck was he thinking? She screamed in her head. Before she could come up with an answer she heard their front gate open followed by a loud engine coming closer to their front door.

"Styles." She gritted between her teeth.

She buttoned up her sweater as she ran to the door. Before she could open the door and begin to scorn Harry her hand curled around the blinds covering the window. She opened the blind enough to get a peek of Harry. She watched him remove his Aviators, the helmet intensifying the green in his eyes, followed by the black helmet revealing his messy, long hair. He ran his long fingers through his hair, fixing it then throwing his beanie over it. She bit her lip in frustration. She was supposed to feel angry, not aroused. She placed her forehead against the door and breathed in a sigh of relief. As angry as she was, she couldn't help but feel happy and thankful that he was finally home. She loved him. All of him. Loving him meant worrying about him and the fucking bike only heightened her worrying. The anger came back as she realized he hadn't killed the engine, hadn't come up to the door and explain his adrenaline junky shit to her. She turned the knob and flung the door open. Hell broke loose.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Styles?" She screamed at her boyfriend of two years, "We talked about this bike, you know how much it scares me when you get on it."
"I thought you were coming home at seven?" Harry eyed his watch nervously.

"Are you-" Her hands went up to her hands in frustration, then running them though her hair after she realized this wasn't the first time he went behind her back, "How many times have you been on this bike?"
Harry looked down, taking off his gloves, a bit agitated, "A couple of times, love, but it's not like I'm going out and racing someone, I'm just riding it!"

"Baby these things are dangerous!" She said, taking a step closer to him, glaring at the bike but then softening her eyes when she met his eyes again, "It's not just you, it's idiots out driving that I'm worried about, can't you see how-"

Harry sped off to the backyard before she could finish her lecture. Her hands stayed up, shocked and upset that he just left her talking. The shock morphed into anger as she stomped to the backyard so she could give him a piece of her mind. She made her way to Harry as he parked the bike, finally cutting the engine off, his back to her. She walked around the bike watching Harry remove his grey pullover, revealing yet another favorite shirt of hers: the red, plaid shirt. This man was not playing hair.