#harry style watermelon

[moonchildstyles]

cloudburst

y/n and harry broke up. he goes on a date, and y/n drives in the rain.

wordcount: 8.5k+

—————

(Y/N) knew it was hypocritical to be feeling jealous at the moment—pathetic, even. She was there that night, she knew she was the one that ended her relationship with Harry. He was single, and there was nothing wrong with him going out with another girl; he could take her to whatever restaurant he wanted, including the one that they had found together last month. 

It had only been a couple of weeks, though. And, he had been the one that wanted to try and work things out with her. Harry had been the one that was insistent that they could work through this—the miscommunications, the lack of time together, the passive aggressive arguments—, but now he was the one moving on nearly immediately. She wanted to cry that it wasn't fair, that he was supposed to still be torn up about it the same as she was. 

It wasn't as if she didn't love him anymore or was itching to get out and meet other people, she was just finding herself more unhappy than she was happy when she thought about him. He had told her that he loved her, that he wanted her—needed her—when she had sat him down, she thought neither of them would be moving on this quickly. 

But, it's fine. It's whatever. Good for him. 

Locking her phone, she placed it face down on her kitchen counter with a startling slam. She didn't double check to see if she had cracked her screen, instead stepping away from the device all together as if it wanted to sulk just as back as she. If her phone was a good friend, it would delete the Instagram app as soon as possible; there was no reason to see any more pictures of Harry and his new friend at dinner. 

Forcing her head to clear, (Y/N) padded through her apartment with the intention of cleaning up. The last weeks had left her with heartbreak brain, chores having been pushed to the wayside as she recovered. When was the last time she went grocery shopping? Had she really run out of tissues or did she have an extra stash in some closet she'd been too lazy to check? 

She shook her head, taking the pile of dirty socks to her washing machine while her mind raced with distractions. It was late, but she could go grocery shopping, at least to pick up a few essentials so she didn't order in again for the next couple of days. Seeing the world for another reason instead of work would be good for her, she thought. Even if the thought of putting on shoes that weren't slippers made her want to tear up. 

After starting up the washing machine, she trudged up the stairs towards her room. The cloudy night called for something warmer than the ratted t-shirt and frayed shorts she had on, leaving her to rifle through the collection of sweats she had tucked in her dresser. No matter the garment she pulled out of the drawer, didn't seem to be enough; not thick enough, soft enough, warm enough. Leaving the pieces in a mess in the drawer, she didn't let herself think before she was drifting to her closet where there was a too familiar hoodie hanging up. 

The smell wasn't quite as strong as it had been weeks ago, but there was still a faint scent of Harry's cologne embedded in the fibers. It was truly nothing more than a plain black hoodie, the material showing wear in the way the strings were tied into a bow at the neck with frays at the end, holes lining the sleeve hems, and a lipstick stain smeared on the back shoulder in a shade she had on her bathroom counter. Though it was his hoodie, she had stolen it enough times that it lived at her home with Harry taking it back every now and then, imprinting himself on it for her to revel in once he gave it back. 

Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, she knew it was a bad idea. There was no reason for her to wear that hoodie. Really, it was surprising that he hadn't asked for it back yet—especially if he was going out with other girls. 

It would be crazy for her to wear it, right? It was not normal to be mourning a relationship she ended. That was not her hoodie.

She slipped it on, anyway. 

As much as (Y/N) was crazy, and hypocritical, and jealous, and insensitive—she missed him. 

This whole thing would be a lot easier if she wasn't still in love with him. If he had just broken her heart and ruined those feelings for him, she wouldn't be feeling insane as she pulled the sleeves over her hands and pretended as if she wasn't breathing in his scent. 

Going out didn't seem so bad when she had this on, though.

Collecting her bag and keys, she made a point to rush through the final steps of readying herself before she was going out the door. If she waited too long, she might end up crying in this hoodie instead. 

Outside, it was raining much harder than she had initially thought. Pulling up her hood, she attempted to protect her hair from the droplets though there were casualties that were immediately pasted to her face. By the time she made it to her car, the hoodie was beginning to grow heavy against her back, rain streaked down her bare legs (in the interest of getting out of the house, she didn't change from her shorts like she'd wanted), and her lashes made heavy with mist. 

Once safe inside her car, she pulled in a heavy breath. 

She could do this. While Harry was out at dinner on a date, she'd go pick up some spaghetti noodles and more cheese than she should eat in a week.

Because she wasn't upset. She wanted to be broken up. She's fine.

With a forceful turn of the key in the ignition, (Y/N) gladly focused on the mechanics of driving through the rain as opposed to everything else on her mind. The clean scent in the air filtered through the cab, comforting her more than she realized. 

No doubt, she could do this. 

Pulling onto the main road, she turned up her music to be heard over the sound of the rain beating against the windscreen. The pavement was slick, dyed a slate black with the help of the droplets, puddles growing in every small divot in the road. The streetlamp twinkled off of the gathered water, rippling with each added drop. Everything was just a bit bleary through the windshield, even with the reach of her wipers going in overtime to wipe away the streaks. 

While she was never a huge fan of driving in less than perfect conditions, especially at night, the scene out here tonight was a perfect match to the pit in her stomach. It made sense for the weather to act this way, she thought; she was too torn up for the world to be given a cloudless, warm night. 

The music playing sifted through a playlist she'd found the other day, her search having been nothing more than for "breakup music". While she didn't know every song, or if she was even allowed to be moping to the tunes considering she was the one that cut things off, the lyrics she could catch were felt in her chest with a weight on her lungs. The ones about the other party moving on before the singer was ready stung particularly sharp tonight.

Especially when an all too familiar song started up, a voice she'd heard thousands of times before pleading with his ex lover to keep from calling her new flame "baby". 

This song had come out long before (Y/N) had met Harry, written with another in mind, but she remembered listening to it back then. She remembered wondering just how heartbroken one would have to be to write stanzas just as these, how hurtful it would be to see your love finding someone else to take your place. 

(Y/N) automatically reached out to skip the song, not even knowing it was on the playlist despite it being an obvious pick, but her hand stopped short. 

It'd been weeks since she heard his voice, even longer since he sang around her. Even if this was through speakers, mastered and fit to music, it was something she'd been missing despite pretending she didn't. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, dropping her and back to the steering wheel as if she hadn't just submitted to self-torture. 

As the tune went on, (Y/N) no longer had to wonder what kind of heartbreak went into poetry like this. She was right where Harry used to be, wishing he would give her just a bit longer of pretending to be his baby before he chose another. 

She hadn't realized she was tearing up until her wipers were unable to keep her view from being blurry. The rain outside now paled in comparison to pools glimmering at her waterline. Her skin felt hot, resistant to the chill seeping through her vents. She didn't even make it through the full of the outro before she repeated the song once more, knowing it would only spur her tears on that much more. 

Before she knew it, her bottom lip was quivering before a broken sob puffed from her lips. She sniffled with tears racing down her cheeks, searing over her warmed skin. 

It wasn't her business, but did he share the same bite of sushi with this new girl that he'd also given to (Y/N) a month ago? Did he order the same bottle of rosé? Did he reach across the table to push her hair out of her face just as he did for (Y/N)? Was tonight going to be the first date they would relay to friends and family when asked how they had found someone so special? She had no right to ask any of these questions, but was Harry going to fall in love with this new girl? 

Did he think of (Y/N) at all tonight, like she was thinking of him? 

The idea of being on Harry's mind at all was enough to have her hands tensing around the wheel, but the thought of not crossing it at all had them shaking instead. Her eyes were flooded, hands wavering on the steering wheel, skin warm and nose wet. The rain beat down against the hood of her car with as much force as her heartbeat, riding the tempo as if she couldn't hear it well enough in her ears. 

She shouldn't've left the house tonight. It would be way easier to sob like this if she wasn't having to also keep track of the road in front of her and the slick pavement beginning to flood with more water than the drains lining the sidewalks could handle. At least she seemed to be the only one out on the road at the moment. 

Scrubbing her hand over her eyes, she attempted to clear them in hopes of regaining her focus. The song was over now and she planned on wiping that song and subsequent album from her vicinity as soon as she made it to the grocery store. 

By the time she blinked her eyes open, lashes sticking to one another under the weight of her tears, she was only a few hundred feet away from the vague outline of a stoplight. She hadn't even seen the light shift from green to yellow, let alone to the blazing red that shone overhead. 

Of course, now would be the time she saw one other person on the road, already creeping out into the intersection to use their own green light. 

In a knee-jerk reaction, (Y/N) stomped on her brakes. Her breath caught when she felt that tell-tale give under her tires, the feel of the back of her car shifting out of sync with the steering wheel. 

The broken rattling of her heart was replaced by the pounding of the beats against her ribs as she realized there was no way she was going to stop. She was currently gliding over the road, her tires unable to grip onto anything underneath them through the layer of rain on the pavement. All she could do was turn the steering wheel and hope that her car followed, hopefully missing the poor bystander who would learn that she wasn't paying as much attention as she should have been when coming to the intersection. 

Every thought in her head seemed to happen in slow motion, but the world around her raced by in a second. She could feel her mouth moving, her voice muttering curses that made no sense, but there wasn't a single sound she heard over her heartbeat. Beyond her windows, the rain blurred every moving shape, her foot still heavy on the brake despite it being a fruitless effort. 

Headlights shone against her face for a brief second before she cranked the wheel, spinning just in time as she hit the middle of the intersection. Her new bleary view showed off the vague outline of the pole of the stoplight for a brief moment before spinning out even further until she was facing the direction she'd come in, her car turning in a complete one-eighty in her lane until everything suddenly stopped with a metallic crunch. 

She heard the impact before she felt it. Her driver's side door whammed into the pole of the stoplight, denting through the layers of metal with the window cracking and breaking. Prisms of glass rained over her, grazing her face and tops of her thighs with prickling shards. Her dented door threaded to push in on her before stopping, leaving a pressure against the side of her body and a complicated way to get out of the vehicle once she found her head. Her dashboard was lit up with every caution insignia as if she had no idea of what had just happened. Through the broken window, rain began to stream in, seeping into the cuts on her face and legs. She shivered though she couldn't feel a single chill from the air, her body beginning to reel from the accident she had just found herself in. 

In the back of her mind, over the pelting rain and pounding heartbeat, she heard her breakup playlist filtering through the remaining speakers. 

A wretchedly familiar voice singing about fine lines and being alright. 

"Hon? Are you okay?" 

Turning to face the nice woman who'd come to check on her after witnessing her blunder, (Y/N) opened her mouth to respond. 

She burst into tears.

—————

Harry really needed to stop wearing this necklace. 

He'd known that for the last few weeks, and, yet, every time he'd thought to unclasp it and put it at the bottom of a jewelry box to never be seen again, he never had the strength to. Instead, he continued to wear it every day, absently playing with the single pearl sitting at the base of his throat. 

Natalie watched as he fiddled with the pendant, but he still couldn't get himself to stop his idle hands. 

He hadn't even wanted to be here tonight, anyway—he had to self-soothe somehow, even if that meant playing with the necklace his ex-girlfriend gifted to him. 

Natalie was nice enough, a friend of a friend of a friend who'd been around to some parties here and there, but she wasn't (Y/N). Harry had only agreed to come out tonight in hopes of giving him a reason to wash his hair and eat something that wasn't bread or coffee while sitting on the kitchen floor. Even with clean hair and an order of his favorite sushi cleared from his plate, he still felt slices of guilt; one for going out with someone while still being very hung up on his ex, and for going out at all with someone who wasn't (Y/N). 

Harry wasn't stupid, he'd caught the cell phones pointed in his direction when he and his date had been seated. If it wasn't up already, it was only a matter of time before those photos would be circulating on all of the socials and appearing on timelines. He could already picture the headlines for tomorrow morning, detailing the mystery woman on this dinner date while questions about his previous flame were posed. He just hoped (Y/N) would somehow be able to dodge these flecks of news—even for only a couple of days. 

Hopefully, he'd have a chance to talk to her before she knew. If she was open to hearing from him, he'd explain where he was coming from in even agreeing to this date, and maybe she'd take him back. If she knew he was still in love with her, willing to change his schedule, relearn how to communicate, start going to therapy weekly again, would it be enough to salvage their relationship? 

"But, what about you?" 

Being pulled from his head, Harry had to face Natalie with a blink of his eyes. She had been talking about a movie or something—or was it her last holiday?—, but he hadn't heard a single word. Another pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. 

He thumbed over the pearl at his throat. "Um... I'm so sorry, wh—" 

Divine intervention came in the form of his phone vibrating in his pocket. He shot an apologetic smile at Natalie before slipping the device out of his pocket, eager to pick up for whoever was on the other side. 

Until he saw the contact name, anyway. 

(Y/N)'s mother. She was calling him. 

"Who is it?" Natalie asked, canting her head at Harry's startled expression. 

"Um... Jus'—uh—someone I haven't heard from in a while. I have to take this, 'm sorry." 

He didn't catch Natalie's reaction before he was rising from his seat and heading towards the front door with the phone pressed to his ear. Rain sprinkled over his head while thunder cracked in the distance. A darker storm was moving in. 

"Hello?" 

"Harry?! Harry, are you there?" 

"'M here, yeah. Is everything alright?" He'd never heard her voice in such a frantic state, especially not over the phone like this. Was she that upset over the breakup? 

"(Y/N)—It's (Y/N). She's been in an accident, and I—we—Her father and I, we're—She's alone. I-I know you two broke up, but she's in the hospital by herself and the nurse said she's not doing okay, she's—I don't know, I don't want her to be alone but I can't get on a flight until tomorrow morning and there's—" 

Frantic chattering continued on through the receiver, but there wasn't a single syllable that was able to breach his thoughts. 

(Y/N) was in the hospital. She'd been in an accident and was now at the hospital. Alone. She wasn't doing well while she was in the hospital after being in an accident, all alone. 

His stomach turned. 

"Wha—Where's the hospital? What hospital is it?" 

Was he having a heart attack? Every beat of the organ fluttered at the base of his throat, the chambers squeezed tight. 

He needed to find her. She couldn't be alone. She had to be okay and he needed to be there. 

Her mother shakily relayed the name of the hospital and room number, stumbling over the syllables until Harry had them seared into his memory.

"I-I'm so sorry to ask you, I know what—" 

"No, no," he shook off her words, "Th-Thank you for telling me. 'M going to her right now, I'll let you know how she's doing." 

Shaky goodbyes were shared with quiet sobs sounding on the end of the other line. Harry felt breathless as he stowed his phone away, hands shaking with fumbling fingers. His head was a mess. 

All he wanted to do was go—get in his car and go, be with (Y/N). But, there was Natalie sitting at their table, a dessert ordered to the table with their check of sushi and wine waiting with their server. There were people around them who would no doubt post about any kind of commotion he sounded tonight, perhaps even leak his location if hearing he was on the way to a hospital in the city. (He usually liked to see the best in others, but it'd happened before, these wild invasions of privacy). 

Despite every instinct pushing him towards the parking lot and abandoning the night, Harry forced himself to walk back into the restaurant. He held a thin grip on his control, but it was enough to get him back to his table with Natalie so he could quietly speak with her. 

"Is everything okay?" she asked before he'd even taken his seat. 

Swallowing, his throat bobbed as he shook his head. "No, actually. I—'m really sorry, Natalie, but I have to go. My, um, a friend of mine—they're in the hospital. I need to go." 

Natalie's features were marred with surprise, mouth dropped open with her lashes in a glimmering flutter up at him. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. That's so scary. No worries, go ahead I'll take care of everything. Call me when you can, okay?" 

Meeting the blue shimmer of her gaze, Harry felt his features tighten. She was much too nice for him. 

He wasn't going to call. 

Harry didn't say anything before he was rushing out of sight, only stopping at the hostess station for a slick second to tell the staff to charge the card attached to the reservation. Natalie was open to order whatever she wanted for the rest of the night, but she wasn't paying for a single cent. This would be his apology for never calling. 

It was with shaky fingers that he typed in the name of the hospital (Y/N) was at—all alone—as soon as he was in his car. Though his heartbeat didn't settle much, his head felt a bit clearer knowing that with every mile he was cruising down the street, he was growing closer to (Y/N). His hands couldn't stay idle for very long, consistently reaching up to the necklace around his throat. 

(Y/N) was going to be alright, right? 

The question warmed the backs of his eyes, flushing his skin. As much as he wanted—needed—to be at her side, Harry realized he wasn't sure what he was walking into. Her mother had said she wasn't doing okay—whatever that meant. What kind of scene was he going to walk into? 

Stop lights and brake lights passing in a blur through the growing rain, Harry made it to the hospital in record time. The pavement was slick, reflecting the glow of the streetlamps and the many car lights bumbling through the carpark. He didn't think before he was pulling into the first spot he found, parking at a sloppy angle before he was rushing out. 

With the rain coming down, his hair fell across his forehead, slicking to his skin. The droplets acted as the tears he was unwilling to shed until he saw (Y/N) in person. 

He marched his way into reception, shoes squeaking over the linoleum. Behind the desk, a woman perked up, spotting him with bored eyes before she perked up with recognition he knew too well. 

"Hi, um, how can I help you?" she sputtered. 

Unable to muster a greeting smile, he kept his eyes low. "I—um—I need to see someone, please?" 

The rest of the checkin passed in a daze, Harry only barely able to keep himself from begging to see (Y/N). He relayed as much information as he could, showing any kind of identification needed. He was more than thankful to hear that her parents had approved his visit during their initial phone call, something he filed away for later so he could thank them when he had a clear mind. 

The best thing he heard, the one that stuck glaringly in his mind, was the fact that she wasn't housed anywhere to be treated for critical pain. She was being held somewhere safe and hopefully comfortable. 

Following the given directions, Harry felt like a ghost as he floated through the different doors and elevators. He moved restlessly while he dinged through the floors, feet shuffling while his eyes were trained on the rising numbers. 

Was this the slowest elevator on earth? Or were they always like this? 

Once set free on the correct floor, Harry floated through the halls, sweaty palms pressed into the pockets of his pants. All he could focus clearly on was the room numbers pinned beside the doors, the thumps of his heart bubbling in his ears. 

After going down what felt like endless miles of hallways, the correct room number finally appeared before him. The door was shut, the lights inside dim. His hand hesitated on the door handle.

He had been so consumed with making it to her, to make himself feel better with the sight of her, that he hadn't really considered if she would even want to see him. If she wasn't asleep at the moment, would she just kick him out? She had been the one to break up with him, anyway. 

Before he could doubt himself any more, he pushed through, keeping his steps light over the linoleum. 

Just as he thought, the room was quiet and dark, rain streaking down the window. There was a warm glow coming from the standing lamp at the corner of the room, machines beeping along with the television with a made-for-tv movie playing. A whiteboard marked with her name was pinned to the wall, filled with stats and jargon Harry didn't have the mind to decipher. 

Amongst it all, (Y/N) was laid in the hospital bed with the thin covers pulled to her middle. Her eyes were shuttered, showing off the bruising underneath alongside the myriad of cuts over her skin. As peaceful as she appeared, sleeping away under the crumpled sheets, Harry couldn't help the tears that touched his eyes. 

With the door closing behind him, he drew closer to her bed. It didn't take much examination to spot the tear tracks glimmering on her cheeks, the swollen puff of her lips. It was the same way she'd looked when she had told him she didn't want to be with him any longer. 

Harry wasn't sure what broke his heart more: the obvious evidence of weeping on her features, or the fact that her tears would have skated over every cut and scratch marring her cheeks? 

He shuffled over the floor. He wanted to be at her side, hold her hand and let her know she wasn't alone anymore, but he didn't want to wake her. There was a reason that she wasn't allowed to head home after being checked out by the hospital team, the more rest she received the better. 

Instead, he gingerly made his way to her bedside, taking a spot in the uncomfortable chair seemingly waiting for him in the lamplight. With the way she was laid up in the bed, he had an unobstructed view of her relaxed features, some of the more notable injuries on her face bandaged up while others were left treated with nothing more than a glistening salve. She didn't look particularly comfortable, especially knowing how she usually liked to curl up with her hands to her cheek and legs to her chest, but this was better than nothing. 

Better than being in a wrecked car somewhere. 

The thought was sobering, enough to have those tears he had been urging away to resurface on his waterline once more. 

She was here. (Y/N) was okay—hurt, but well enough to be left to sleep on her own. She was no longer alone. 

He hung his head in his hands. He didn't want to think about what kind of accident would have put her here, blood on her face with machines monitoring every vital in her body. 

With those tears in his eyes, peeking up at her between his lashes, she looked like a watercolor painting. The edges were blurred, leaving the general outline of the person that filled his dreams and became his muse for the better part of the last year and a half. 

He couldn't believe the last month of his life. He'd lost her. And for what? Because he didn't think it was important enough to send her a text when he was going to be out later than initially thought? Because it was easier to let his schedule happen to him, as opposed to shaping his life around making enough time to spend time with her? Because why would he talk to her, tell her where he was coming from, when he could be passive aggressive and sweep everything under the rug instead?

The beeping of the heart monitor was the pitched baseline that anchored him to the room. Every dotted sound kept him from being swept away in the rivers of tears dripping down his heated cheeks. 

He could have lost her today. In the worst case scenario of this day, he would have received a very different phone call. He wouldn't have had the chance to sit at her side right now. He wouldn't have seen these healing injuries on her, instead having only old photographs to remember what life looked like on her. 

As cracked as his heart was at the moment, he would take these cuts and scrapes, this uncomfortable chair, the stiff set of her bedding, over any other ending this night could have had. 

The rain pelted against the window as Harry fixed his gaze to the love of his life. 

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, if it had been nothing more than a few minutes or if it had been hours at her side, until there was the soft click of the doorknob twisting with the door pushed open. Entering was a nurse in soft purple scrubs, hair pulled back and a clipboard in her hands. She had her eyes trained down before looking up to catch Harry wiping his eyes and (Y/N) unstirring in her bed. 

"Oh, hello," she murmured, voice soft as they were both aware of the patient in bed, "I didn't know she was having any visitors tonight." 

A barely there smile curled Harry's cheeks, his skin smooth of dimples. "Yeah, got here as fast as I could. Have you been helping her?" 

The nurse shook her head, "A little, but she's been asleep for most of it. Poor thing cried herself into exhaustion, so I doubt she really remembers meeting me." 

Her statement had his bottom lip quivering. Harry had to remind himself to be grateful she was even here to cry. 

"She's doing alright, though?" 

With a quick glance at the clipboard, the nurse nodded her head. "Yeah, she's doing much better—now that she's calmed down a little. We've just gotta keep an eye on her for tonight. She got a good crack to her head, so I want to make sure she doesn't sleep for too long tonight." 

Harry gave her a nod, a moment from offering to wake (Y/N) for her before the nurse stepped forward. In gentle tones with a hand to her shoulder, she woke (Y/N). 

Unlike her, she had been sleeping rather lightly, jumping awake after only a single call of her name. (Y/N) fluttered her eyes open, lashes sticking together from the dried crust of her tears, enough so that she reached her scratched hands up to rub the mess away. 

"Hi," (Y/N) greeted, her voice in a croak as she got her bearings. 

"Hello," the nurse responded with a gentle smile, "Sorry to wake you, hon. I just wanted to check on you, then you're good to go to sleep, again." 

"Okay," (Y/N) breathed, struggling to sit up. 

Without thinking, Harry surged forward, helping her as much as he could. The second he put his hands on her, (Y/N) jumped, having not seen him prior.

It was clear she was more than surprised to see him with the way her eyes widened, blanching at the sight of him. 

"Harry?"

He offered a quiet, thin smile, sitting back in his spot once she was stable, sitting up for the nurse. "Hi." 

Before much else could be shared between them, the nurse began running her tests. Small talk was shared between the two, (Y/N) glancing more than once in Harry's direction. His hands were a fiddling mess in his lap, watching with rapt attention as every evaluation was run. 

"Everything's looking okay—what I expected we'd be seeing," the nurse mused, writing down her information on the clipboard in hand, "But, how are you feeling? Any extra pain, anything you want me to take a look at or mention to the doctor?" 

"I'm fine," (Y/N) smiled, the expression less than convincing, "Nothing hurts any more than earlier." 

"Okay, okay," the nurse nodded, "That's good, let me know if that changes. I'll be back to check on you in a few hours, so get in your rest while you can." 

A pointed look was placed in Harry's direction at her last statement, a teasing curl to the corner of her lips. (Y/N) gave a sheepish nod. 

"Right, thank you." 

The nurse departed with a couple of well wishes and a reminder that she'd be back in a few hours. Once the door clicked behind her, a stiff silence settled between them. The only sound came in the form of the mechanical beeping of the machines around her and the ending of the television movie playing. 

(Y/N) had her eyes facing ahead, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. Harry stared at her. 

"(Y/N)—" 

"You're here." 

His throat bobbed as he heavily swallowed. "I am," he nodded, dropping his gaze to his picked cuticles in his lap, "Your mum called me." 

A furrow had her brow pinched. "Her and my dad are on vacation right now." 

Another nod, a strand of hair touching over his forehead. "They'll be back tomorrow morning, but she wanted someone to be with you tonight." 

Maybe it was the way her shoulders tensed, the glassy look that took over her gaze, or the pinch to her features, but something brittle settled in the air between them. Every breath felt delicate as he waited for any kind of response. 

"I'm sorry." 

It was his turn for his brows to knit together. "For what?" 

That fragile tension between them cracked. 

"You were on a date." 

Harry hung his head, lips thinning. He thought he would have more time to explain this. 

"'S not what it looks like, (Y/N)." 

She shook her head, voice quiet under her breath. "So it wasn't a date?" 

Sucking in a breath, his lungs squeezed. "I mean—It—Yes, it was a date, but—" 

The beeping of her heart monitor heightened, the pitch seemingly hitting higher than a moment before with the pace quickening. "So it is what it looks like." 

"(Y/N), 's more—there's more to it than that." 

(Y/N) only shrugged at his half-hearted response, her head hanging between her shoulders. 

Harry felt just as defeated as she looked now. This wasn't how he wanted to reunite with her, but he guessed beggars couldn't be choosers. This was the opportunity he had, and he wasn't going to turn it away. 

"What happened tonight?" he murmured, shifting the conversation away from his own blunders. Unfortunately, this avenue would be an easier section to stomach than anything she would want to know about his date. 

"I got into an accident." 

"I know," Harry gently prodded, "But, what happened? Y'usually only hit curbs, not anything else." 

His shoulders loosened when his teasing was enough to draw a huffed laugh from her, a slight smile softening her features. 

As much as they may have deteriorated recently, he did know her. He knew her better than he knew himself. 

"It was just raining really hard, and—I don't know—I wasn't able to stop like I thought. I slid and hit a pole, and... yeah." 

As much as he did like teasing her about her more precarious driving habits, he knew more than anything that she was cautious. It wasn't like her to settle into accidents like this—she rarely ever drove in weather like this anyway, let alone at night. 

"Y'never drive in the rain," he pressed, an unaired question bookending his words. 

"I know." 

Harry looked at her, waiting for more than those two syllables. It was fruitless, he knew. 

He hung his head, running an absent hand through his hair before his fingers found the pearl at his throat. Eyes on the floor between his feet, he couldn't look at her as he spoke once more. 

"(Y/N). What happened tonight?" This isn't like you. Why did this happen? 

The air in the room seemingly went still. 

When he chanced a look up once more, he saw her sitting in her hospital bed with sparkling tears in her eyes. His chest panged at the sight. He knotted his fingers tighter together, forcing himself to see from reaching out. 

"(Y/N)...," he started, voice decidedly more gentle than a moment before. 

She shook her head. "I didn't want to be home—and I was crying, and I wasn't paying attention and the rain was heavier than I thought—and just... Everything happened." 

What was worse? Hearing that she had cried more than once tonight, before she'd even got in her accident, or seeing her recount it with another set of tears racing down her cheeks? 

This time he couldn't help himself; Harry reached out to touch her wrist. Her skin was warm under the chill of goosebumps on her skin. While she didn't move to hold his hand like she used to, she didn't flinch away. That was enough, he thought. 

"Why were y'crying, lo—(Y/N)?" He internally cringed at his slip up. He had no place calling her anything but her name. "What happened?" 

Another shake of her head. "It's stupid," she sniffled, fluttering her eyes closed with the tears clinging to the tips of her lashes. 

"Not if it made y'so upset that y'ended up here tonight," he crooned, words a quiet lilt only for her to hear, "What happened?" 

"I—It's..." she cut herself off more than once, throat bobbing, "I don't... I was the one that broke up with you, I-I'm not supposed to be upset. It-It's not fair." 

Her voice was barely a whisper by the time she finished speaking. His hand on her wrist tightened, a snug warmth against her skin. He ran his thumb over the bone, pretending he didn't feel the cut just on the underside. 

He waited. 

Another made-for-tv movie started on her television. 

He waited. 

She took a deep breath. Her eyes still closed.

"You went on a date tonight." 

Harry's shoulders deflated. 

"(Y/N)—"

"No," she peeped, shaking her head with her arm stiffening under his hold, "No. You were on a date, and I'm crazy and I'm not supposed to be upset, but I couldn't handle it—I didn't want to be home alone an-anymore. I didn't think you'd be over it already since I'm not, but you-you can do whatever you want an-and I need to be okay with that. And, then you—your music, it started playing while I was driving and I-I—Harry, I couldn't stop crying and then I crashed." Her voice was clogged in her throat, muddy and thick. Her tone came in waves, ebbing and flowing until it gave out. "I'm sorry." 

There was no chance Harry had of keeping his own tears at bay as he listened. It was too much—all of it; hearing her beginning to sob over the thought of him being over their relationship, how just the sound of his voice over her speakers brought her to tears while driving, the fact that she'd seen photos of him out on a date had driven her from her home to get away from herself. 

He felt his skin flush, the warmth heading down his neck the same way his tears did. He sniffled his nose, his lips rolled between his teeth to keep himself from blurting out each thought he couldn't help but to have. 

He doubted telling her how much he loved her was going to be much help when she was so dedicated to the thought of him already finding someone new to replace her. 

"You—" he cut himself off when his voice came a croak, clearing his throat with his hand on her wrist. "Y'don't have to be sorry, (Y/N). You're not crazy, either—I don't know what I would do if I'd seen y'go out with someone else, either. Y—'M jus' sorry, I never—I didn't mean to—" 

"It's okay, it's okay," she murmured, shaking her head as she slid her arm out from under his hand, curling into herself while she refused to open her eyes. "It's not your fault—you—I ended our relationship, you can do whatever you want." A shuddering breath had her shoulders shaking, lungs rattling. "I-I'm sorry you're here instead of with her." 

Just short of climbing up on the bed beside her, Harry pulled his chair as close to her side as he could. There wasn't anything he could say—nothing that he could imagine would shift her mind on what she'd seen and decided was the truth. All he could do, even if it involved uncomfortable bending of his joints, was collect her into his arms and hold her. It was only then that the slow roll of her tears were let loose into full weeps, her face buried into his neck. 

She burrowed against him, sinking into him as if the last month hadn't occurred. His hands spanned over her form, familiar with every plane and curve. His fingers caught on the raised abrasions that could be felt through her thin gown, but Harry could only be grateful that those were the only evidence of her accident. The mechanical beeping of her pulse skittered high, enough so he worried that the nurse could be alerted of the disturbance. Nonetheless, he held her tighter. 

"There's nowhere else I want to be," he murmured into her hair, his voice watery like the tears running down his cheeks. 

Reaching towards him, (Y/N) wrapped her hands in the wool of his jacket, fingers clawing into the fabric in a tighter grip than he'd expected from her state. "E-Even tonight?" 

Her cry was thin and pathetic, causing Harry to pulse his arms around her once more. "Tonight—every night. As long as 'm with you." 

He could feel the flutter of her lashes as she cinched her eyes shut tighter. Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke again, just audible given how closely he had her wrapped around him, "Wh-What about her?" 

He shook his head against her hair, his nose skating over her crown. There would be a time to really unpack why he found himself at a candlelit table with Natalie, including everything that was going through his head every time she spoke to him, but that wasn't tonight. She needed him, and all of the reassurance he could give more than he needed to clear his conscience and monologue over his feelings. 

"She's not you and that's all that matters to me," he told her, sincerity dripping in his tone, "All I want is you." 

(Y/N) cried in a blubbering sob, "I didn't think you loved me anymore." 

Harry's own eyes had to be shuttered closed then, a fruitless attempt in hopes of stemming the tears falling out of his eyes and into (Y/N)'s hair. "I didn't think y'loved me anymore, darling." 

"I-I do, I do," she countered, shaking her head in his neck with her grip tightening on him, "We-We just never saw ea-each other anymore, and I-I thought you were mad at me all th-the time and I thought we'd be happier apart—b-but I was wrong and—" 

"It's okay, it's okay," he soothed her, starting a circuit of his palm over her back, "I-I understand. But now we know—you're all I want, an-and I'll do anything to make it work with you." 

"You're all I want," she whimpered, voice tight, "Don't leave me." 

While a part of him was soaring knowing that she was still in love with him, that this wasn't over the way he'd thought, he was still more than heartbroken to hear that she was so torn up and broken herself. She thought she had no choice but to end the relationship in hopes of making both of them happier elsewhere. He never imagined himself making someone he loved feel that way. 

"I won't." 

—————

Rubbing the lack of sleep out of his eye, Harry stood back as (Y/N) checked out of the hospital. Her mother was twined to her side with her father looking just as distraught, though he was better at giving his daughter space. They'd come straight here as soon as they landed only a couple of hours prior, walking in on Harry who had stayed far longer than the originally carved out visiting hours with (Y/N) still in his arms. 

Gratitude was exchanged between them—Harry for coming to (Y/N)'s side at a moment's notice, and her parents for telling him at all and letting him be there for her—with a thread of stiffness lingering afterwards. Harry couldn't blame them; the last they'd heard about him was the fact that he'd been dumped by their daughter along with all the reasons why. They didn't know what had come of the night before, yet, only seeing the aftermath of their tear puffed faces and his arms wrapped around her.

Truthfully, Harry wasn't even sure where he stood with (Y/N) at the moment. Promises uttered through sobs after a traumatic event wasn't something he was going to hold her to. Even if he wanted to believe she was still in love with him and wanted to be with him like she'd said last night. 

Armed with paperwork and parents at her side, (Y/N) nodded to the nurse at the checkout with a plastered smile. Though they were still clear on her skin, the cuts and scrapes she'd earned in her accident didn't look so bad when she smiled with light in the eyes. 

Though he was still a bit too far away, he could hear the mumblings of a quiet conversation happening between (Y/N) and her parents. He was sure she was going to go home with them, and sort out everything else that couldn't be helped with a night at the hospital, but he'd wait until he knew she was safe before he'd leave himself. 

He watched from the corner of his eye, giving them privacy, though he could see (Y/N) waving off her parents before stepping towards him. It was a lingering departure, her mother refusing to let go too readily, though she eventually resigned herself to head down the hallway towards the bank of elevators with her husband and her daughter's paperwork. 

(Y/N) took shy steps towards Harry, empty hands a fiddling mess. 

"You're still here," she said, voice quiet to match the waiting room. 

He shrugged, a small smile having curled the corner of his lips. Was he supposed to remind her that she had asked him to stay, or keep that ex-boyfriend barrier in place? (If it was even still standing, given the way she'd fallen asleep in his arms just hours before).

"You're doing alright?" he asked instead, scanning over the planes of her face as if he didn't have them memorized already. 

She nodded. "Just sore, but I think I'm just going to feel that way for a little while. My head's doing better, though—I still have a headache, but I don't think it's because of the accident." 

Though she ended with a laugh, Harry figured she wasn't sure what to make of last night anymore than he did. 

"'M happy you're alright," he told her, sincerity weaved through his words, "Are your mum and dad taking y'home?" 

"Yeah," she nodded, looking over her shoulder to the couple waiting at the elevators, "I think my mom wants me to stay at their house tonight, but we'll see." 

"Oh, y'don't want to spend hours watching soap opera reruns tonight?" Harry teased, a sly smile touching his lips. The curl only stretched when (Y/N) laughed. 

"Not particularly, but who knows," she said, sparing another glance over her shoulder to see the audience waiting on her, "Um, we talked a lot last night." 

"We did, yeah," he nodded, throat bobbing as swallowed, eyes dropping from her own, "But, we don't—'m not—If y'don't feel the same way as y'did last night, 'm not going to ma—" 

"I do," she cut him off, a bright chirp that matched the spark in Harry's chest. "I do feel the same, I mean. We should probably talk a little more, though, right?" 

A dimple dented Harry's cheek, suddenly feeling incredibly more alive than just a heartbeat before. "Probably." 

"Are you busy tomorrow? In the morning?" 

It didn't take a second thought before Harry was moving his schedule around to keep his morning stark open tomorrow. Those meetings could be moved—maybe even made into an email or a quick phone call. 

"Not for you." 

The blooming smile she gave him was reminiscent of the first time he pulled that flirtation on her. 

"Good," she quipped, "I'll call you tonight or something, then. Maybe we could get breakfast tomorrow?" 

"I'll be there," he cemented, "Jus' tell me when." 

The rewarding light in her eyes made it easy for Harry to forget the last month of his light (except for the night he'd just spent with her, of course). 

"I will," she told him, "Bye, Harry." 

Maybe it was the way she hesitantly stepped towards him, or the shy way she had her lips rolled between her teeth with a budding smile, or the memory of her warmth against his chest, but Harry didn't think before he was collecting her into his arms. (Y/N) melted into his chest on instinct, wrapping her arms around his middle. He could feel the mush of her cheek against the cuff of his shoulder. Despite the sterile scent of the hospital clinging to her, underneath it all was the familiar fragrance of her shampoo and sweet body lotion she somehow never ran out of. 

Drawing away first, (Y/N) only put enough space between them to get a look up at Harry. Though her eyes were bloodshot, bags darkening underneath, and the shadow of her tears lingering in the corners, he'd never seen anything more beautiful than (Y/N)'s eyes. 

"I'll see y'tomorrow." 

"See you tomorrow." 

Long after she untangled herself from his hold, Harry still felt (Y/N)'s warmth long enough to carry him home and keep him company until his phone rang a familiar tone later that night. 

—————

ahhhhhh I never write angst so I hope this turned out all right! thank you sm for reading, and sorry for any mistakes! if you have any ideas or anything at all send them in!

[jezebelblues]

watermelon sugar | h.s

summary: it isn’t about fruit

cw: smut18+, oral (f!receiving) unedited, idk that’s it. there’s like brief mentions of cigarettes/alcohol if that’s an issue

word count: approx 3.7k

| LMFAO okay so here’s something i’ve had in the drafts for a bit. on the lil poll thing the majority of yall voted for smut so here’s a crumb i guess love u

yes it’s 70s!harry. i love u 70rry

masterlist

july 1972

harry knew of YN—a friend of mitch’s, the cousin of a girl he could still taste on his tongue.

she was always in the periphery of his world—not a groupie, not a colleague. she was the girl who held the bubblegum pink lighter to his lips if he couldn’t find his own, the girl who’d offer her red glitter pen if harry lost his black one.

so far, three songs in his notebook were written in sparkly cherry ink.

they met four months ago at a bar in california— his first night on the north american leg of the tour, she'd stood on her tiptoes to hug mitch, congratulating him over and over with a laugh like the fizz of soda on a hot day. harry remembers the scent of her hair when the breeze caught it—peach bubbly and honey. he remembers the crimson lipstick stains on the cigarette she passed him, the faint taste of her fruity cocktail on the filter.

since then, she'd been around. not a fixture, exactly, but something close to it. she didn't sing, didn't play, didn't take up too much space, but she had a knack for fitting into the cracks no one else noticed. sometimes, before a show, she'd twist his hair back just the way he liked it, or she'd swipe a bottle of polish to paint his nails in a shade that matched his shirt.

it was easy, the way she lingered. easy enough that harry never really questioned it.

now, the sucker in her mouth stained her tongue blue. her heart-shaped sunglasses, pink and a little scratched, sat low on the bridge of her nose as the sun painted the roof of the tour bus in a syrupy summer gold. she was stretched out on a towel beside him, humming a tune harry instantly recognized as his own.

he sat cross-legged next to her, the glitter pen—her glitter pen—rolling between his fingers. his notebook balanced on his knee as he scrawled down lyrics, but the words felt sluggish, stuck, like the heavy heat pressing down on them.

YN's hums drifted lazily in the air, quiet enough that the buzz of the bus engine nearly swallowed them up. her eyes were shut tight against the sun's glow, but harry couldn't help stealing glances at her. she looked serene, almost untouched by the heat that had him melting into his jeans.

the cherry-red ink glimmered faintly as he scratched another uneven line into his notebook.

with a sudden pop! she pulled the sucker from her lips and smiled without opening her eyes. "you're staring."

harry didn't flinch. he leaned back slightly and smiled—bunny teeth and dimples. "maybe you're my muse."

her laugh was soft and sharp all at once, the sound of a soda can cracking open. she propped herself up on her elbows, raising an eyebrow at him. "hardly. if i were, you'd have more than that down by now," she teased, nodding toward the page.

harry smirked, his gaze skimming the floral pattern on her bikini bottoms, the curve of her hip. "or maybe you're just a really bad muse."

she kissed her teeth and let herself flop back down against her towel, the movement making her breasts bounce slightly in her top. harry's eyes lingered, just for a beat. she didn't seem to notice-or maybe she did, but didn't care. instead, she nudged his thigh with her toes, the sucker swirling back between her blued lips.

after a moment, she pulled it free and held it out toward him, her pink-painted nails glinting in the sunlight. "want the rest?" she grinned, tilting her head against her shoulder. "it's bubblegum in the middle. your favorite."

harry sighed theatrically, but he leaned in anyway, his butterfly creasing slightly as he plucked the sticky stick from her fingers. he turned it slowly, the blue sugar catching the light, slick with her saliva as he slid it onto his tongue. it was sweet, bright, with the faintest taste of her still lingering underneath.

she watched him with a raised brow, her grin spreading. “will you tell me who kiwis about yet?”

his lips quirked up around the candy. "no."

this was the third time she'd asked in the span of four months. it was her favorite song, or so she claimed.

it was a month prior in chicago. the aragon ballroom. he'd gone early, hours before soundcheck, to roam the venue, let his nerves settle. but that day the stage hadn't been empty. YN had been there, sitting cross-legged on the polished wood, his guitar resting in her lap. her fingers plucked at the strings hesitantly, her brows furrowed in concentration.

she wore a bright yellow bikini top that day, a pair of denim shorts slung low on her hips. the sunlight streaming through the high windows made her skin glow.

he'd stayed quiet as he approached, leaning his arms on the edge of the stage to watch. she jumped slightly when she noticed him, her cheeks flushing.

"move your hand up a bit more," his voice was soft, nodding toward her grip on the neck of the guitar.

she bit her lip, looking down to adjust her fingers. "like this?"

harry nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "press your index finger there. now try."

her cheeks darkened further, but she nodded, her focus snapping back to the strings as she strummed again-hesitant, but closer this time.

her fingers moved carefully along the frets, still hesitant, but with a quiet determination that made harry smile. the melody of kiwi—rough and unpolished—drifted softly through the empty venue, the rawness of it striking something in him. she wasn't bad, not really, but she played like someone who was just beginning to learn—calculated, deliberate, all concentration and no flow.

"it's better," he said after a moment, straightening up to rest his chin on his arms. "but you're still a little off."

she paused, sighing, her lips pressing into a line. "it doesn't sound right."

"you're playing it too clean," he laughed, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smirk. "y’have to let it be messy, loosen up a bit."

her brows furrowed, and she glanced at him, her cheeks still pink. "messy," she repeated skeptically.

"messy," he confirmed, nodding toward the guitar. "you're trying t’control it too much. let it get away from you a little."

her lips quirked up in a soft laugh as she adjusted her grip on the neck. "easy for you to say, you've been playing since you were, what, twelve?"

"eleven," he corrected, grinning wider. "but who's counting?"

she rolled her eyes but didn't argue, her gaze dropping back to the strings as she tried again. her fingers stumbled at first, the sound of a muted note ringing out across the empty hall, but she pushed through it, letting the rhythm guide her this time. harry watched as her shoulders relaxed, the line of tension in her jaw easing slightly.

"better," he praised after a moment, and her head snapped up, her face lighting up with a cautious kind of pride.

"really?"

he nodded, standing to his full height and dusting his hands against his jeans. "you'll have it down by next week at this rate, sunshine.”

she snorted, shaking her head as she set the guitar carefully to the side. "next week," she repeated, her tone dry. "sure."

"what, no faith in yourself?"

her eyes sparkled as she hopped down from the stage, brushing past him with a grin. "none at all."

harry chuckled, turning to watch her as she headed toward the venue's exit, her bare feet padding softly against the floor. her yellow bikini top gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the windows, and the sound of her soft humming lingered in the air long after she disappeared from view.

the song wasn’t about her, no, written long before they’d even met—but it stayed hers in a way he couldn't quite explain. hers like the red glitter pen that sat loosely between his fingers, like the memory of the bubblegum sucker on his tongue, like the faint scent of peach and honey still imprinted in his mind.

he let the notebook fall shut and leaned back against the roof of the bus, the sun beating down on his face. beside him, YN shifted lazily, her hand reaching out to tug the sunglasses from her nose and push them up into her hair.

“you’ll tell me one of these days, harry styles.”

he didn't answer, just let his eyes drift shut, a soft smile curling at the edges of his lips.

YN huffed dramatically, flopping onto her side to face him. The towel beneath her crinkled, and the faint scent of sunscreen mixed with the lingering sugar on her breath. “you can’t just smile at me, harry. it’s not fair.”

he peeked one eye open, his grin widening. “fair’s got nothing to do with it.”

“don’t be annoying.” she poked his chest, her nail grazing the inked swallow on his skin. “you can’t write a song like that and then act all mysterious. it’s cruel. is it about someone you dated? someone you wanted to date? tell me something.”

he pushed himself up onto one elbow, the glitter pen rolling off his notebook and landing in the crease of the towel. “and ruin the fun of you guessing every chance you get?”

she groaned, rolling onto her back again and flinging an arm over her face. her sunglasses slipped slightly in her hair, catching the sunlight. “you’re the worst,” she mumbled.

he laughed, soft and low, and let his gaze wander over her—the curve of her shoulder, the way the waistband of her bottoms dug into her hips just enough to make him wonder how her skin might feel under his thumb. “but you keep coming back,” he teased.

“not by choice,” she shot back, her voice muffled by her arm.

he leaned closer, the pendant around his neck glinting as it swung forward. “is that so?”

her arm fell away from her face, and she squinted up at him, the corner of her mouth twitching. “mitch dragged me along,” she said breezily. “i just wanted to see california. maybe get a tan. didn’t realize i’d be stuck with a rock star who thinks he’s god’s gift to songwriting.”

“a rock star, huh?” he echoed, smirking. “that what i am to you?”

her brows arched, her lips quirking into something smug. “what else would you be?”

harry didn’t answer right away. the silence stretched between them, thick and warm, broken only by the hum of the bus and the distant buzz of cicadas. YN held his gaze, unflinching, and for a moment, harry felt a pull in his chest—something slow, something sharp.

finally, he reached for her abandoned sucker, still sticky and shining faintly blue. he popped it into his mouth, smirking around it as he settled back onto the towel.

“god’s gift to songwriting,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

her laugh rang out, bright and unrestrained, and harry closed his eyes, letting the sound soak into him like sunlight.

YN’s laugh faded into a hum as she sat up, legs tucked beneath her, her knees brushing against harry’s thigh. her hand hovered over his notebook, tapping the edge lightly with her fingernail.

“what’s this one about?” she asked, her tone softer now, less teasing.

harry cracked one eye open, the sucker shifting lazily against his cheek. “why d’you always ask questions you know i won’t answer?”

“maybe because i know you’ll give me something, eventually.” she tilted her head, her fingers trailing along the notebook’s cover. “or maybe i just like annoying you.”

“you’re good at it.”

“thank you,” she said sweetly, ignoring his smirk. she flipped the notebook open, her eyes skimming over the half-finished lines written in that unmistakable cherry-red ink. “you’ve been stuck on this one for a while, huh?”

harry sat up, propping himself on one elbow and leaning close enough that her hair brushed his arm. “what makes you say that?”

“the way you’re chewing that sucker like it owes you money,” she teased, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “plus, there’s about three crossed-out lines on every page.”

he sighed, plucking the sucker from his mouth and tossing it into a paper cup near his feet. “some songs take longer than others.”

“and some songs,” she said, grinning as she tapped the glitter pen against the page, “are about a certain someone you refuse to talk about.”

harry laughed, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “you’re obsessed, you know that?”

“just curious.” she rested her chin in her hand, her pink sunglasses slipping down her nose again. “what’s the line you’re stuck on?”

he hesitated for a moment, then reached out to turn the page. “this one.” he pointed to a scribbled-out verse near the bottom, the ink thick and smudged where he’d pressed too hard.

YN’s eyes narrowed as she leaned closer, the scent of her sunscreen warm and sweet. “hmm. it’s… cryptic. you’re trying too hard.”

“oh, am i?” harry raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

she nodded, pulling the pen from his hand and spinning it between her fingers. “you need to stop thinking so much. write what you actually want to say, not what you think you’re supposed to.”

“and what do i want to say?”

she smiled, tilting her head at him. “how would i know? it’s your song.”

he held her gaze for a long moment, the teasing edge in her voice softening. his eyes flicked down to the pen in her hand, then back up to her face. “what if you’re the one i’m writing about?”

her breath hitched—just for a second, just barely enough for harry to notice. then she laughed, light and easy, her fingers tapping the notebook again. “then i guess i’m an even worse muse than i thought.”

“terrible,” harry agreed, his voice warm with something deeper, something he wasn’t sure he wanted her to catch.

YN didn’t move away, still perched close enough that her knee brushed against his. She let her fingers trail along the edges of the notebook again. She flipped a page, then another, her curiosity pulling her deeper into the sprawl of his unfinished songs and fragmented verses.

“you really don’t use normal pens anymore, do you?” she said, watching the way the glittery ink shimmered against the light.

“don’t need to,” he muttered without looking up. “not when you keep leaving these everywhere.”

“it’s a service, really,” she teased, flipping another page. “you’re welcome.”

her tone was light, but her fingers slowed as she scanned the next page. the handwriting was messier, more hurried, as if the words had come all at once and left no time for polish.

YN’s fingers hovered over the page, her eyes catching on the title underlined twice in red—watermelon sugar.

“what’s this one?” she asked, tilting the notebook toward herself as she scanned the uneven handwriting.

harry froze, “it’s nothing,” he said quickly, but the tension in his voice was hard to miss.

she arched an eyebrow, flipping the notebook to face her fully. “doesn’t look like nothing.” she read the first line aloud, her tone curious. “tastes like strawberries on a summer evening.”

harry leaned over, his fingers brushing hers as he tried to tug the notebook away. “YN, seriously—”

“hold on,” she interrupted, pulling it back toward her chest, her grin widening as she flipped to the next line. “and it sounds just like a song,” she read, her voice lilting in amusement. “you’re getting poetic on me, harry.”

“it’s not finished,” he muttered, sitting back against the towel, his jaw tight as he ran a hand through his curls.

“yeah, i can see that,” she said, tapping the page with her fingernail. “but what’s it about? strawberries? watermelon? a fruit salad?”

harry let out a sharp laugh, but there was something uneasy in the way his eyes flicked to hers. “something like that.”

YN squinted at him, her smile softening as she studied the lyrics again. “it’s… sweet,” she murmured, her tone thoughtful now. “like—” she paused, glancing up at him. “like a crush. isn’t it?”

his mouth opened, then closed again. for a moment, he looked almost caught—like she’d stumbled onto something he hadn’t meant to share. finally, he shrugged, his fingers fidgeting with the cross between his swallows. “it’s about… a feeling,” he said carefully.

“what kind of feeling?” she pressed, tilting her head.

he hesitated, his gaze darting between the notebook and her face. “just… something good. something warm.”

YN rolled her eyes, her teasing smile back in place. “you’re being annoyingly vague. is it about someone? or are you just really passionate about fruit now?”

harry exhaled a laugh, but he didn’t answer right away. instead, his gaze lingered on her, quiet and unreadable, before he finally shrugged again. “do y’want me t’show you?”

her teasing smile faded, curiosity dancing across her features. “show me?” she echoed, her voice gentler now, uncertain.

he nodded, shifting closer. the notebook was forgotten as his fingers brushed along its spine, pushing it aside. his eyes swept over her face slowly, studying the way her cheeks were flushed from the sun, the way her lips parted as if she wanted to ask something but had forgotten how.

his hands rested near her hips, the towel wrinkling under his palms. he leaned in, close enough that his breath was cool against her lips. "it's not about fruit," he breathed, his voice barely more than a rasp.

she blinked, her pulse skittering in her chest as her eyes flicked between his. "i... kinda figured," she whispered, her tone shaky, but her gaze steady.

his lips twitched, a soft breath of laughter escaping through his nose. "do you trust me?"

her eyes dipped, lingering on the curve of his strawberry-red lips. the weight of the moment pressed against her, electric and unyielding. "just show me, harry."

he didn't hesitate after that. his hands settled on her hips, warm and firm, as he guided her flat onto the towel. the sun hung heavy in the sky, draping them in a creamsicle haze, but all she could focus on was him—his weight, his touch, the way his curls fell forward as he hovered over her.

his ring clad fingers drifted to her thighs, palms flat along the insides as he spread her apart. the tip of his nose grazed the gusset of her bikini bottoms over to the flesh of her thigh right against his thumb. he pressed soft kisses into the skin, nipping at it gently to watch her chest rise from a gasp.

his lips trailed like the sticky sweetness of honey dripping down her skin, closer to her center, each kiss slow and warm.

he paused, his nose brushing against her clit still covered by fabric, but he could still feel her heat radiating through it. “still with me?”

she nodded, her heartbeat everywhere but her chest. “please, harry.”

he smirked, his fingers hooking underneath the bottoms, his touch feather-light as he slid them down. the movement felt slow, intentional, every second stretching out as the anticipation buzzed through her like electricity.

her arousal glistened in the sunlight—a bright peach dripping with water in the georgia heat. he laid flat on his stomach, arms looping behind her knees and pulling her thighs apart. he breathed her in, lips grazing alongside her folds before he pressed soft kisses into her.

she was sunshine, she was rock and roll, she seeped nectar and smelt like champagne—he wanted to take his time.

he kissed right into her heat, his lips slick with the remnants of her, causing her tummy to flip. he drank her in, sliding his tongue up until he could make slow swirls around her clit. it sent a jolt through her, a sensation so vivid it left her gasping.

she clutched the towel beneath her, head tipping back as the sounds of summer—cicadas in the distance, trees shaking in warm breeze, the hum of the engine—faded into the background.

he took her bud between his lips greedily, suckling gently and flicking the tip of his tongue against her. his grip on her thighs tightened as he pushed himself father into her, drawing soft, breathy moans from her throat.

he tilted his head, cheek flat against the space between where her thigh and cunt met. he lapped at her pussy, slow and languid strokes as he gazed up at her through his eyelashes.

“like sugar.” he mumbled against her, the reverberation causing her fingers to tangle themselves in his curls, her hips bucking against his face.

he smiled, pulling her down flat against the towel, burying himself deeper into her. she would tug on his curls every time he moaned against her folds. she’d push up against his hands every time he’d shake his head between her thighs, coaxing whimpers to fall from her lips.

he pulled her thighs over his shoulders, his nose brushing against her clit as he buried his tongue into her hole, tasting every drop, drinking in the way she’d clench around his tongue.

her cheeks flushed, words caught in her throat as he found his rhythm, his large hands holding her steady. his tongue moved like he was writing lyrics, every motion a verse, every pause a chorus.

she felt herself unraveling, her body tensing as she drew her higher and higher, the knot in her core overwhelming and intoxicating. she was an unrelenting sea, pressure, thrashing and trembles until the wave finally broke—gasping his name, her thighs trembling against his shoulders as her back arched.

he didn’t stop, relishing in the way she slid across his tongue, easing her though the aftershocks. his hands trailed from her thighs to her waist as she sagged back down against the towel, her chest heaving, fingers still threaded through his hair.

he pulled back slowly, a string of her release and his saliva snapping from the departure. he kissed up her naval, lips glistening in the sunlight, his chin soaked.

he smiled, resting onto his forearms as he hovered over her. “showed you, just like y’wanted. right, needy girl?”

YN blinked, her breath still catching as her body buzzed with the lingering warmth of him. she hummed, nodding.

his dimples deepened as he brushed his thumb along her bottom lip. “good,” he mumbled, pulling her lips apart as he leaned in. she could taste herself on him, sweet and heady, fruit and warmed by the sun.

he leaned his forehead against hers, their noses barely touching. “but if you need me to explain it again,” he hummed, kissing her once more. “i’ve got time, sunshine.”

[rosyrosethings]

Love in Fine Print

Y/N, a quirky assistant, finds herself heartbroken and homeless after catching her boyfriend cheating. With nowhere to go, she reluctantly moves in with her billionaire boss, Harry Styles, who offers her a place to stay. Their dynamic changes as they start living together, and feelings between them quietly grow

Slow burn, friends to lover, will they wont they. Lots of fluff

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 (warning: daddy kink)

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10 (this one has a second part coming)

Part 11

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

Sneaking out

Summary: 70's!Y/n sneaks out

Warnings: lots of smut, my underwhelming return to writing 😭

Wc: 1kishhh

The dewy grass on Y/n’s bare feet only adds to the thrill, and maybe it's because she didn't get out much (hence her sneaking out at eleven pm) but the damp earth under her feet fuels her to keep running so she isn't caught by the nosy neighbors.

Out of breath, Y/n wraps her arms around her boyfriend. He wraps his long arms around her nightgown clad frame before opening the car door for her to climb inside. He shuts the door as quiet as he can before running to the drivers side and pulling away to their spot at the lake.

He quickly parks his car, unbuckling his belt and throwing himself on top of his girlfriend. Y/n laughs, wrapping her arms around him as he pushes her to lay on the seat. “Harry!” She gasps with a light chuckle in her voice. Harry just ignores her, his mouth attaching to her neck to kiss and bite, saving any hickies for spots her parents can't see.

He pushes up her nightgown, an excited look on his face as if he just won the lottery- and in his mind he has. “Take me out to dinner first!” Harry shakes his head and rolls his eyes at his girlfriend. “Oh hush” He kisses her to shut her up before sliding her panties down her silky legs.

Y/n yanks at his belt, trying to blindly unloop it while their mouths are still connected. She feels his large hand push away at her grabbing. He doesn't even break away from her mouth as he whispers, “Not yet” into her lips.

Her panties that were once crumpled into his hand are now thrown over his shoulder, landing on the dashboard where they will live until next time. He sinks down as much as he can, yanking her legs over his shoulders. “I thought this was going to be quick.” Harry looks up to her with a nasty look on his face, obviously offended. “I'm not fucking you without getting my mouth on you first.” He smirks, peering down again, spreading her open. He dives into her tongue first, absolutely devouring her as her hand slaps onto the window to steady herself.

His mouth sucks at her clit whilst his fingers slowly, achingly pump in and out of her wet cunt. Y/n gasps and her eyes squeeze shut, her free hand gripping tight at the back of his gelled hair.

Harry breaks from her for a split moment, taking a breath before he flicks his tongue over her clit. He smiles into her pussy as he pulls loud moans from her pretty mouth.

“H,” her hips buck up to meet his mouth, slowly grinding up. “I need you to fuck me, H” she pants as he rises from between her legs, slipping his tongue into her mouth in a wet, sloppy kiss with their teeth and noses bumping. Y/n can hear his belt clinking as he pulls his pants down. Harry collects her wetness on his hand before stroking himself a few times to be nice and hard for her.

“Are you ready firefly?” He mumbles, his thumb rubbing her clit as they continue to kiss. She spreads her legs even wider, wrapping them around his waist. “I need you inside of me, H” her cold hands slide down his chest, sliding her hand down to play with his balls. His thighs twitch and his breath gets caught in his throat, his hand flying to her wrist. He laughs, pushing her hand away and lining up to slide into her.

“Oh god” y/n sighs out when he finally slides inside of her. This exact moment has been on her mind all day, since the second she woke up she's had a pulse between her legs that could only be satisfied by her boyfriends cock- unfortunately for her, her parents absolutely hate him so after a long day of being deprived finally feeling him fill her up felt like a dream come true.

His thumb pulls at her bottom lip, his hand softly cradling her chin as he shoves his thumb inside of her mouth. He watches her wrap her soft lips around his thumb, waiting before he lowers his thumb and opens her mouth for him to spit in. He quickly collects the saliva in his mouth that is still riddled with the taste of her, watching it drop from his lips to her tongue.

Y/n moans, you back arching into him. “You're so fucking dirty.” Harry murmurs, gripping her jaw with his free hand then shoving his tongue back into her mouth. He speeds his hips up, dying to feel her squeeze around him unbelievably tighter.

She spasms around him and he swallows down every whimper and moan that falls from her lips. “Harry” she rushes out, gripping at him as she feels herself come closer and closer to cumming around him. He softly laughs at her, brushing her cheek with his thumb. “I know, baby. It's okay.” He breathes heavy in her neck, sloppy wet kisses cover the skin as he fucks her until his eyes are rolling to the back of his head.

He moans, cumming inside of her and filling up her pussy. “Fuck, sorry firefly.” He says while he huffs and tries to get his breath steady again.

Y/n quickly follow behind him, chanting his name as she cums on his cock.

Once they've collected themselves they sit cuddling together in the car, the windows steamed up but they don't care. Looking out at the view of the lake, bright stars from the night sky reflecting off of it. Harry runs circles on the bare skin of her shoulder. He presses his lips to her head, “I love you, firefly” she smiles at his words and pushes her nose closer to the skin of his neck. “I love you too, H.”

“Let's get you home, doll.” He starts up the car, reversing out of their stop and driving back to her house.

“What's wrong, hm?” Harry mumbles, lifting her chin up to him once he parks in front of her house. “One day we won't have to sneak around, okay?” Harry gives her a sickeningly sweet smile. “I know,” he nods, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “But you're worth it. Go get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow.” She nods, reaching for the latch to open her door but not before pressing a kiss to his lips and exchanging 'I love you’s.

“That's my girl” Harry waves as she walks off, waiting to see the lights in her bedroom flicker as a sign she got in alright before he rides off, already thinking about tomorrow night”

HIIII SORRY IF THE SPACING IS OFF ILL TRY TO FIX IT

sorry I haven't posted for.... I don't want to say how many months :D BUTTT Aly is getting her groove back okay? I'm finally feeling inspired again! Soooo if you have any thoughts about this or future writing or anything I'd LOVEEE to hear it :d

Tag list

@hopeyoustaythenight @harrysdimple05 @damnasstyles

@harrysfolklore @msolbesg @thismaydestroyme @stallrry @ayeshathestyles @michellekstyles @lhharrylilpumpkin @kissmyaxe140 @buckymydarlingangel @cherrycolas-things @luvonstyles @victoria-styles

[thedarlingfawn]

"Watermelon Sugar" | Harry Styles

(Source: 🎀💖)

[hstylestuff]

like or reblog if you save

[highladyofterrasen7]

💀💀💀💀

Not mine

[hsonlyangelxo]

Okay how is he so cute? 😭😭😭🥺🤏🏻🥹

[sweptawaytvnow]

Liam’s 1D mic was red. Show support for grieving friends and family. https://blueeyeddesigning.etsy.com/listing/1798165406

[hldailyupdate]

‘Watermelon Sugar’ just hit 2.8 BILLION streams on Spotify! (15 August 2024)

[unwanteddahlia]

SOME FANART I DID FOR A FANMAGAZINE

[shawnxstyles]

addicted in the afterglow

DATE: NOVEMBER 26, 2022

summary: the aftermath of the birthday party left you in shambles. you couldn’t do anything, especially get yourself off, but asking harry to fuck again would be insanely embarrassing. no matter how badly you needed it. what you didn’t know was that harry needed it just as bad.

requested: yes ;), but i didn’t do this exactly, so i will add the rest in the next part!

words: 5.7k :)

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [light bondage, hickies, slight nipple play, fingering, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, mild degrading/name-calling], small daddy kink (mentioned twice), protected sex, and dirty talk [you know how i love it]!!), language, and so much dialogue ;)

note: part 3!! here is my masterlist. and to note, the consent is not clearly stated, it is only implied. ALWAYS ASK FOR CONSENT!

—

ONE WEEK LATER

This week’s Hangout was at Rina’s house and everyone showed up tonight. Work and school didn’t interfere, so no one was really stressed out either. Except for you.

You couldn’t stop thinking about last week at the birthday party. You couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. And he was going to be here.

Throughout the week, you would try to get yourself off to ease your mind. However, you couldn’t release anything until Harry became your muse. But even then, you couldn’t make yourself come the way Harry made you. Your mind was so attached to how he made you feel, it was like nothing else turned you on anymore. You were embarrassed to admit it to yourself, but you were desperate.

You doubt Harry thought or felt the same. He sleeps with a stupid amount of girls weekly. So, you didn’t dare to mention it.

As the week slowly passed, your friends seemed normal. They didn’t seem skeptical or suspicious. However, Raquel did mention that “party bathroom incident” more than once; it has a name now.

Why was she so obsessed with finding out who was in there?

It doesn’t matter, as long as they’re not accusing you. Tonight, you were going to clear your mind of stress. With alcohol. You grab a seltzer from the fridge to start off the night before walking back into the living room. You plop on the couch in the middle of a conversation between your insane friends.

“Kai was definitely the hottest—” Rina stated, getting cut off by Raquel.

“No no, it was definitely Cole—”

“May I ask what the topic of conversation is?” You butt in, highly confused, yet intrigued about who they’re talking about.

“Lego NINJAGO. Who was the hottest? It’s Kai, right? Totally your type,” Rina answers with a biased twist. You laugh loudly and shake your head. Before you answer, the life of the party walks in.

Late. As per usual.

Your heart jumps just once before regulating to a normal pace. This is the first time you’ve seen Harry since you were together in the bathroom, and your hormones are about to bounce off the walls. You didn’t think it would be this bad, but God, he looks better than usual. You only peered at him, but his hands look smooth, yet rough. You can’t help but remember the tattooed feeling they left on your skin and how good they felt. In that one glance, you saw enough to probably get you off for the night.

God, that’s so embarrassing.

Did he get a tighter shirt? No, but did it just get hot in here?

You take a big swig of your drink because you’re going to need it tonight. You try to bring yourself back to the topic as Harry gets situated in the corner of your eye.

“First of all, why are you talking about Lego boys and second, who says that’s my type?” You cross your legs, foot shaking as you keep your eyes solely on Rina. You notice Harry peer at you subtly as he snatches a bottle of cold beer from Sean. You take a sip nonchalantly.

“You’re telling me cocky men aren’t your type? Oh, please! That’s like every guy you’ve fucked,” You nearly spit out your drink at the thought of Harry, holding a fist to your lips to keep it in. You swallow and cough out, embarrassed by Rina’s words. She appears innocent, but she’s more vulgar than people realize.

You would say you don’t get flustered often, but when you’re hiding a lie, it’s a bit hard not to when things can relate so easily. Harry plasters a sly smirk, trying to not laugh before licking his lips and sipping on his beer.

You cocky son of a bitch. He knows. He has to.

You can play this game too.

“What? No way. Confidence is key, yes, but cockiness turns me off,” You glance at Harry for a quick moment, seeing his eyes squint in confusion. Rina nods her head slowly, processing. Harry’s eyes say it all; you’re full of shit.

“Well, since we’re kind of on the topic, is it TMI to ask what all your guys’ turn ons are? I’d personally like to know,” Raquel smirks, a subtle eye landing on Sean. You don’t think about it and brush it off while she looks around the room smoothly.

“I think that’s a great idea. Y/N, why don’t you start?” Harry quirks with a tilted head, licking his lips with a devious smile.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to choke him out more.

“Sure,” You crinkle your eyes as you harshly smile back. You set down your seltzer and pond on it for a moment.

Oh, you can play this game too.

What can you say to make Harry really ticked off? Or really turned on…

“I like when a guy is vocal… and I prefer them to be in control, you know? But I like being on top too, don’t get me wrong. And I personally, sorry if this is TMI, like it better rough,” You list some of the things that Harry did, nodding your head naively. Normally, you’d never share anything like this, but your hormones are allowing you to not give a single fuck. You pretend to look around at everyone, but you really just wanted to see Harry’s face. You can tell he is withholding a huge smirk behind his glass bottle as he impulsively decides to chug it cleanly. He goes to place the empty drink on the table. “But I haven’t been with a guy like that in years.”

Now, you can’t hold back your desperate need to smile as Harry’s face completely drops, and so does the bottle. They all nod unknowingly at you, unaware of the upcoming tension between Harry and you. He awkwardly picks up the glass and places it on the table. Harry clearly did all of those turn ons; and he did them very well. But what’s not to throw him for a loop? His ego needs to be humbled. Before anyone else could speak, the man himself does.

“How is that possible?” Harry questions swiftly, obviously without thinking. Your heart skipped a beat, like maybe your friends would get suspicious now. You felt as though they would confront you two any minute now.

But at the same time, you kind of liked the feeling.

Was this a new turn on?

“Oh, they’re all too gentle! Big softies…” You roll your eyes and sway your hand. In the back of your head, you don’t want your friends to find out, but the risk is what convinces you to do it more. Even though sharing your sexual life with them is embarrassing, telling them about you and Harry seems a lot worse. You take one more sip before your can is empty as well. You tell your friends you’ll be right back as you head over to the kitchen to grab another drink.

Your hand opens the fridge as you gaze inside. Your friends resume the chatter that sounds like mumbles from the kitchen, not skeptical of anything. Harry doesn’t hesitate to follow you, using the same reasoning to speed walk into the kitchen.

He’s not very good at this lying thing. You guess you didn’t really discuss it, though, either.

“What was that about?” He immediately asks, flustered and annoyed. You raise an eyebrow at his demeanor and fight off a smirk. You could see his fingernails digging into his palm as his knuckles turned slightly white. You felt a bit jealous of his palm right now…

“I have no idea what you mean,” You innocently say, fluttering your eyelashes too many times. You pretend to be engaged in your findings of the refrigerator, attempting to not focus on him.

This is war, Styles.

“Oh, shut up with that. What did you think your little shenanigan out there was going to do for you?” He closes the fridge quickly, gaining your full attention. Your heart picks up pace as you bite the inside of your cheek. He’s making it more difficult to refuse him the more he speaks. Why are you heavily turned on right now?

This is it. The lowness of your standards are really showing right now.

“I thought it was pretty cute, no? I mean, it was the truth,” You cross your arms with a doe-eyed expression. God, you’re egging him on. Deep inside of you, you want a reaction from him. You guess that was your whole objective anyway. This just seemed like an entertaining way to get attention from him. You want him to want you so much that he says it first.

Very toxic. Just how this relationship between the two of you is.

“Cute,” Harry mockingly huffs. He peers down at the floor for a moment while clicking his tongue. He inhales like he’s trying to stop himself from getting heated. “I think we both know what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. Just have to tell me.”

What he says brings you back to the bathroom, when he was making you beg for him. The arrogant expression showing on his face makes your blood boil in the most addicting way; slightly raised, persuasive eyebrows, a small smirk, and hungry eyes gazing heavily at you. He’s giving you an opening to admit your desire, yet you hate begging, he knows that. You know he gets off on you pleading for him—his ego will skyrocket if you do. You can’t have that happen. You carry too much pride yourself to willingly indulge in him that easily.

“If you know, why don’t you do something about it?” You suggest, eyes straining to stay on his intense ones. You ditch the innocent act and become sternly annoyed.

“Oh, you don’t think I will? Just wait,” He taunts, a hand resting by your head while his dips lower toward your ear. “Or do you need me so bad you can’t take it? Want me to fuck you with our friends in the next room?”

Harry’s words freeze you completely; they never struggle to catch you off guard. Your back is caught between him and the fridge, while your heart pounds so crazily he can probably feel it. Your body feels weak, tiringly desperate at this point. You have no words for him–he clearly knows what you want, he just wants you to tell him. Even though his words are tempting, you know that the amount of time you two have been in the kitchen alone (without full-blown arguing) is probably concerning to your friends already. You don’t even think before speaking, your impulsiveness gets the best of you.

You’re nearly shaking with need. You can’t take it.

“I haven’t been able to do anything since the party, okay? I can’t focus in class, I can’t sleep. I can’t even get myself off without having to think of you!” You whisper-yell, furiously embarrassed by your needy state. Your cheeks feel warm and your fingers are in trembling fists. Harry licks his lips, resisting that familiar smirk (ego equals rising).

“Stop doing that! Stop doing everything! I’m so ridiculously turned on right now I want to kill you,” You rub your hands over your face, attempting to hide away from your embarrassing statement. Your legs are pressed together tightly. Harry swiftly rests a finger to your lips, silencing your raging whines. You glare at him in irritation because you have completely let yourself go and he hasn’t said anything to reassure you.

“Shh, someone’s desperate,” His chest nearly touches yours. “You don’t want them to know how much of a slut you are for me? Do you?”

With clenched teeth, you shake your head stiffly. His free hand grips your hip for a moment, rubbing slow, enticing circles.

“Good. Be patient, princess,” Harry drags out with a deceiving smile. “And you better listen to me.”

Suddenly, he pulls you toward him by your hip. Your heart rate increases tenfold, only for him to just switch your positions. He nonchalantly opens the refrigerator to snatch another beer, leaving you beats away from a heart attack. His face resumes to a shallow, cocky expression as he practically struts out of the kitchen in confidence. Shaking yourself out of a daze, you nearly forget to grab a seltzer before scrambling back into the living room.

Why does he have this effect on you?

“Took you guys long enough. Jeez, what did you do, get stuck in the fridge?” Rina quirks and everyone chuckles. Harry just smiles while you attempt to laugh, but it comes out all awkward. It’s hard for you to comprehend anything right now because of the incident that just occurred in the kitchen. As Raquel resumes and begins to go over her kinks, you zone in and out thinking about Harry.

—

“Hello? Y/N?”

“What? Yes,” Rina waves a hand in front of your face, breaking you out of your trance. A trance where Harry was going down on you so hard you saw stars. Your clit was throbbing at the thought of it. You tear yourself away from the fantasy, blinking a few times and then looking at her concerned face. Your blank statement makes her frown slightly.

“You look exhausted, Y/N. You should probably go home,” You hear Harry's voice suddenly suggest from across the coffee table. It sounds somewhat fake and deceiving, but at the same time, he seemed serious. Your eyes squint in confusion as the cogs in your mind turn.

Why does he care?

“And you better listen to me.”

You recall what Harry had said earlier. Is that what he meant? Were you supposed to follow his lead or something? Instead of snapping at him for even talking to you (like you usually do), you decide to follow along to him. You pray your friends don’t mentally tick your every different move you’ve been making.

“Yeah, I am feeling a bit tired,” You fake a yawn and then check the time on your phone. “He’s right, I should probably go home. I actually have to work tomorrow.”

“But you never work on Saturdays,” Raquel states, a skeptical look in her eye.

“Just doing a favor for a friend,” Two lies spill out of your mouth as you half smile, hoping it’s convincing enough. Thankfully, they all nod surely and you announce that you’re going to take an Uber back to your apartment.

“Uber’s aren’t safe. I’ll drive you. I was going to head out anyway,” Harry suggests, yet again, and your eyes widen at his risky moves. You swear you see that hint of suspicion in Raquel’s eyes again.

Is he crazy? Is he even thinking about what he’s doing right now? Since when did he care about your safety? And you guys would never be in a car alone. Let alone, willingly!

You inhale, trying to hide the surprised expression on your face. You stiffly agree before you both walk toward the door. By then, everyone decides to call it a night and goes outside together to say goodbye. Everyone shares hugs and short farewells as you, Raquel, and Harry descend into the darkness of the front yard.

“Look at them getting along for once. I knew it would happen,” Rina tells Sean, while everyone meets their cars. You sit in Harry’s passenger seat, your movements rigid and small because of the tension.

“Oh yeah, they’re definitely getting along,” Sean mumbles to himself while Rina tiptoes into the house happily. When the porchlight automatically dims, Harry ignites the engine and starts driving.

—

“So, what were you thinking about?” Harry questions, one hand on the wheel.

Everything he does is just attractive, isn’t it? If he–for some reason– has to reverse and he puts his hand behind your headrest, you’re a goner.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, after we left the kitchen, when you were sitting on the couch, gazing into space? Something was clearly on your mind,” Harry describes, keeping his eyes indifferently on the road.

“What do you think?”

“Hmm, is it me? Or me fucking you!” Harry smiles excitedly like he just invented something brand new. You groan and cover your face again at his arrogance.

“You can’t just say…what you said in the kitchen and then just leave!” You were clearly upset because he left you high and dry. But you know doing anything more in the kitchen would have been way too risky. Even he knows that.

“So you did want me to fuck you in front of all our friends?” He smirks, resting back in his driver’s seat. You so badly wanted to wipe that smirk with a nice slap to the cheek. You sigh and groan again, hitting your head on the headrest.

“It’s so easy to make you pissy, baby,” He says smoothly, making your heart jump again like it had earlier. He said baby so simply, but it didn’t feel that simple. That quick spark in your chest didn’t feel simple at all.

The car slowly rolls into a parking stall at your apartment complex. Harry turns off the engine, but doesn’t leave the car just yet. You inhale and exhale a sigh.

“I’m going to say this once,” You knew in the back of your head you wouldn’t be saying this just once, but you hoped you would. You were so irritated yet horny, you might pass out. “I’m going to go upstairs. I suggest you follow me because if you don’t, I will Carrie Underwood your car.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, licking his lips. He always found it hot when you were annoyed at him, but now you’re demanding him to meet you upstairs? Harry is unbelievably hard now. You exit the car and slam the door shut, strutting into the building. You don’t look back to see if he is following you because you have a pretty keen feeling he will.

“Oh, yes, ma’am,” He gets out of the car as well and slightly jogs up to you.

—

You take your shoes off and Harry does the same. You both stand still for a moment, waiting for the other to make the first move as silence cascades your surroundings.

“Fuck it,” He growls, taking a large step toward you and puts your face in his hands. He bends down to you and kisses you so roughly that your teeth clash. Your body melts, finally being satisfied by his touch. Your hands go straight to the back of his hair, tangling your fingers within it. A hint of his tongue glides into your mouth and it’s so addicting, it’s cruel. You could makeout for hours right here if your legs didn’t feel like jello with how badly they ached for him.

His hands smooth down to your waist and then your hips before sliding over your ass. He squeezes once through your leggings, making you end the intense kiss.

“Jump,” He grumbles, as you obey with no hesitation. You throw your arms around his neck as you continue the hungry kiss. Your apartment is small, so it doesn’t take him long to find your bedroom without guidance.

He breaks the kiss and practically tosses you onto the bed. He takes off his shirt–the one you swore got tighter–and discards it along the floor. You don’t hesitate to take off yours either, swiftly throwing it to join his.

You admire his torso for a moment, trying not to let him see. His abs are just how you like them, which makes you hate him more. They’re soft yet defined and when he flexes they really pop out. His tattoos add a whole new level of attractiveness. You never thought someone like him would have something as gracious as a butterfly or a pair of angel wings, but it angers you how hot it looks decorated on his tanned skin.

Harry climbs on top of you with a smirk and you assume that you’re going to makeout again, so your hands reach up to grab his hair. However, he decides to speak instead.

“What was it that you said earlier? You like when a guy is vocal, in-control, and rough?” Harry whispers with his head bent low. Your chest raises up and down with anticipation while your blood boils in familiar annoyance.

“I–”

“No talking,” Cutting you off, he snatches your loose wrists and pins them above your head.

“But–”

“And no touching. Got it?” Harry demands with a stoic tone. You swallow your words, getting lost in his intense gaze. You clench your teeth so hard you wonder if you’ll crush them.

Now, you weren’t going to speak, but an idea clicked in your mind. Or a name should you say, that might just make him weak. There is no point in not at least trying, right?

“Yes, daddy,” Your expression becomes innocently displayed as a small smile grows upon your lips. You’re joking, but you had a small feeling he actually liked it. Harry’s eyebrows raise in surprise with a slight head tilt as a small blush colors his cheeks. He mumbles a quiet fuck in a low breath.

Got him.

“Well, if I knew you were such a slut, I would’ve had you over my knee right now. But I have other ideas.”

With further permission, he skillfully unclips your bra with one hand and tosses it on the floor. He holds your wrists and undoes his belt. He takes it and straps it around your wrists, so you can’t touch him. Your huff turns into a whimper as he leaves hungry love bites along your neck.

He slowly makes his way down your body, sucking harshly on your nipples. He pinches and twists them until they’re hard and aching. If he touched them any more, you might come from just that stimulation. You try your best not to moan out as he gets lower and lower. You practically hold your breath as he leaves wet kisses on your hips.

“It’s a bit quiet in here, huh? Maybe I should let you talk,” His hand lays flat on your stomach, rubbing back and forth teasingly. The familiar coldness of his ring sends electricity through your burning skin. You whimper quietly, biting your lip. You knew that if you didn’t listen to him he wouldn’t let you come, and that’s the only thing you want right now. “Should I make you beg again? I quite liked that.”

Stay silent or beg pathetically? Both nearly killed you, but you could only hold your breath so long before you were actually killed.

“Please. Please, I’m aching,” You quietly begged, hands becoming fists against the leather belt. Harry smirks, satisfied and drags the waist of your leggings down until they’re completely off. He wides your legs and rubs your clit right through your panties. The sudden stimulation makes you gasp loudly while you clench around nothing. “Damn you.”

“God, you’re such a slut. Getting drenched while I punish you?” Harry tsks, while he forces your legs to stay open. He slips your panties off with ease and brings his thumb straight to your clit. He rubs in small circles, making your eyes shut immediately. You begin to pant with longing need and your nipples attempt to harden even more than before.

Suddenly, he takes his ringed middle finger and sinks it through your folds easily. You moan out, finally being filled by something. But it still wasn’t enough for you to be completely satisfied. You were greedy, but you didn’t care.

His finger slips in and out so graciously for a sinful act. He adds another until your gushing wetness onto the comforter. Harry places his mouth on your nerves, his warm tongue exploring. You tasted so sweet that Harry could have a sweet tooth just for you. Your taste was addicting. You moan noisily as your back begins to arch off the bed. With all the built-up teasing, you were destined to come quickly.

“I’m gonna come,” You pant, nails digging into your palms. Your stomach begins to tense and your legs start to shake. He lifts his mouth, bringing his thumb to your clit as his fingers still ram into you. He twists and curls them, tickling your g-spot. Biting your lip harshly, you clench around him as your orgasm nears.

“C’mon then. Come all over my fingers, princess,” Harry demands roughly, speeding up his movements. Your mind is hazy, desperate to reach your release. Harry reaches his other hand up to tug your nipples, adding just the stimulation you needed.

Your core tightens and your eyes squeeze shut as you finally come all over his fingers, just like he wanted.

However, he doesn’t stop. Even when your come is no longer gushing out of your cunt, he keeps massaging your clit over and over. Your legs attempt to close because it’s all getting too much, but he forces them to stay open.

“Harry, it’s too much,” You whine, trying to back away from his touch.

“Oh, now it’s Harry? What happened to daddy?” He mocks and chuckles hoarsely, sinking two fingers into your cunt again. He curls them deliciously, hovering over you. You hiss at the sensitivity. “I thought you wanted this?”

You can’t help but moan out and immediately clench around him. You hated how easily your body caved to him and how it contradicted what your mind wanted.

“Harry,” You say threateningly through clenched teeth, but it wasn’t very threatening to him. He knows you want more of him, but after your little stunt in front of all your friends, he thinks you deserve a bit more of a punishment. Just a bit of overstimulation wouldn’t hurt you. Too badly anyway.

You wheeze lustily, nearing your second orgasm quickly. Your body feels weak and achy as your stomach squeezes. Harry bends his head low and kisses your neck harshly, leaving bruises in his path. You hiss at the pain and pleasure before you’re coming over his fingers. Again. And you did it in record time.

It. Was. Embarrassing. To say the least.

“Harry, there are condoms in the drawer. If you don’t fuck me right now–” You pant out as he lifts his arrogant face above yours. You couldn’t even finish two sentences, mind too blurry and hazy to function. You’re high off of your orgasms and your limbs cry with soreness, but you still need him to fuck you senseless until you can’t feel anything.

“What, Y/N? What are you going to do? Scream? You better,” Harry smirks as flames of irritation and desire light up your eyes. He reaches over to the nightstand, ripping and sliding on a condom. You don’t remember when he pulled his jeans off, but you were too desperate to care.

He rubs himself over your cunt, still sensitive and dripping from your previous orgasms. In one motion, he’s slamming his hips down and thrusting into you hard. He groans into your neck, feeling how snug he feels inside of you. He didn’t want to admit it, but God, he needed you as much as you needed him.

He lifts his hips and rams into you so rough, you wouldn’t be surprised if he broke the bed. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, trying your best not to be loud. Making a lot of noise will not only concern your neighbors but give Harry the satisfaction of making you feel like you’re floating. He flicks his hips so dangerously hard into your pussy, you wouldn’t be surprised if he broke you, too.

Arousal seeps from your cunt, creating a gushing sound every time he pushes in and out of you. He’s so deep that you can feel him in your stomach. When he goes deep enough to hit your g-spot, you gasp loudly and try not to scream.

“Moan for me,” He orders, seeing your attempts to be quiet. You shake your head as he thrusts into you aggressively, making you see stars behind your closed eyelids. “If you don’t, I’ll stop right now.”

Like before, your body gets the best of you and you release a moan when his fingers fixate on your clit. You mentally curse at yourself for never winning, and always giving in. Your legs begin to feel that familiar shake and tension as you wrap your ankles around his back. The action only makes him sink deeper inside of you, making him moan heavily into your chest. You badly wanted to tug at his brunette locks, all sweaty and curly from the heat between you two.

“I h-hate you,” You stutter a groan, back curling to an arch. His strokes slowly become sloppier and his moans are more frequent and breathy. Your hands were probably bleeding from how hard you were digging your nails into your palms.

“Do you hate when I fuck you like this?” He pants near your ear, voice husky and deep. You subconsciously clench around his cock, feeling him twitch inside of you. “Do you hate when I’m so deep inside of you, you can feel me in your stomach?”

His attack on your clit is insanely quick, trying to get you to a third orgasm. The overstimulation is almost too much for your body to keep up with.

“Fuck, Harry!” You wail as your orgasm rushes over you. Bliss fields your vision as you cry looking toward the ceiling. A single tear falls from your eye in pure ecstasy and down into the blanket beneath you. Harry twitches again before coming inside of you (in the condom, of course). Profanities leave his mouth as he slowly pulls out of you, exiting your velvety warmth.

He’s quick to discard the full condom in your trash can, leaving you on the bed still tied up. When he comes back, you glare at him with a threatening look.

“Harry, undo me,” You say, voice dry and scratchy from screaming. Although, you wouldn’t call it screaming because even admitting that to yourself makes you mad.

“No, I think I quite like you all tied up,” He smirks, pulling his jeans up and purposely leaving his shirt off. You clench your teeth in irritation as if all the pleasure he had just given you left your body. Speaking of your body, it was so sore, you didn’t think you’d be able to walk tomorrow. Or even now.

He leaves again and comes back with some toilet paper. You can’t help the small jump of your heart when he cleans you up gently. You didn’t expect him to do that, knowing how much he hates you and all.

“I’m fucking serious!” You groan, trying not to be embarrassed that you’re still naked and vulnerable while he’s half dressed, rubbing you delicately like he didn’t just fuck all the holiness out of you.

“Fine. Only because I need my belt,” Harry walks over to you after tossing the used paper away. Your glare at him is so intense your eye begins twitching. As he undoes the belt, his eyes advert to your nipples. They’re still pebbled and hard after his warmth left you.

“Someone is still horny,” Harry murmurs as the belt becomes loose. You bring your hands to cover your breasts, looking at the red markings around your wrists. You sit up from the bed, legs and stomach indeed sore. You pretend it’s nothing as you stand and achingly walk toward your dresser.

If this is you now, you couldn’t imagine how you would be tomorrow.

“Oh, shut the fuck up! Don’t you have somewhere to be?” You say as you search for a new pair of panties. He watches your every move and honestly, you don’t hate it, even though you’re still naked. The room is decently dark, only small specks of moonlight peek through the open blinds. Harry sits on the edge of your bed, hands resting behind him, still shirtless. You find a clean pair and slip them on, grabbing your shirt on the ground.

“Yeah, I was on my way to fuck someone–”

“A guy perhaps? I think it would be good for your experience.”

“Pff, if any of us lacks experience, it’s you, sweetheart.”

“Just because I don’t fuck everything that walks doesn’t mean I don’t have experience, dipshit!” You don’t bother putting on pants or shorts, knowing that Harry will be leaving soon. The shirt you slid on feels bigger than before, but you don’t question it, knowing your shirt was previously baggy. Harry smirks when you grab his shirt off the ground and chuck it at him. “Can you leave now? I hate that you’re still here.”

“Alright, I’m leaving,” He stands up from the bed with his hands in the air in defense. You roll your eyes and cross your arms, waiting for him to strut his way out of your front door. You follow him out of your bedroom and to your door, making sure he actually leaves.

“Don’t have a good night, fucker,” You exaggerate a large, sarcasm smile. Harry can’t deny that you look annoyingly adorable when you smile, even if it was a fake one. Maybe if you didn’t want to fight him every time he opened his mouth he would make a move on you. A real one. He is almost completely out of your apartment before he opens his mouth one last time.

“I really like you in my clothes, I think you should wear them more often,” Harry winks, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You look down and see you're wearing his T-shirt, while yours rests in his hands by his sides. He doesn’t bother giving it back when you gasp in shock. “Goodnight, princess.”

He slams the door shut while you stand there frozen. You groan, not even attempting to chase after him because you’re not even wearing pants. Your muscles ache when you trudge back to your bedroom. You know you’ll have to shower and do laundry tomorrow, but you were too tired to care. You fold back your comforter before sliding into your comfy sheets.

Although you’re glad he’s gone and you’ll hopefully never have to need him again, you can’t ignore the ache in your heart and the emptiness that surrounds you as you slowly fall asleep.

—

AHH i think my smut is getting better guys🤭

[pinterestwannabe]

ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᶤᶠ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵍᵒ ʷᶤᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ

ʷᵃᵗᵉʳᵐᵉˡᵒᶰ ˢᵘᵍᵃʳ

[rosyrosethings]

Man Eater/Siren Y/n.

Y/n is a the girl every man desires and Harry can't resist her.

Disclaimer: I feel like a lot of writers make Y/n a little insecure girl and I know everyone has insecurities. But idk about yall but I feel like the I can have any man I want(sometimes) so I really enjoyed writing this. Hope you guys like it.

Warning: smut, cheating, sub harry, dom reader

4.5k words

Harry stood by the drink table, swirling the ice in his glass as he half-listened to Dan go on about his latest project. His mind was elsewhere, drifting back to Jane, who had opted to stay behind, nursing a cold. She'd insisted he go without her, to enjoy Mitch's birthday, to relax.

But relaxing had been impossible the moment he felt it—her presence. His body had sensed Y/N before his eyes had. A wave of heat and energy swept over him, tightening his chest, and without even thinking, he glanced toward the entrance.

There she was.

The woman he thought he had moved on from, the one who could ensnare any man with just a look—Y/N. Her dark skin seemed to shimmer under the dim party lights, her long legs accentuated by a dangerously short skirt. Her hair cascaded effortlessly down her back, swaying as she moved through the room, her smile dazzling as she greeted familiar faces.

"Harry? You okay, mate?" Dan’s voice snapped him out of his trance.

Harry blinked, turning his head sharply. "What?"

Dan chuckled, following Harry's gaze. "Oh, yeah... beautiful, isn't she?" That was the effect she had on men. Sometimes Harry wished he never met her. The power she held over him was unreal. Even Dan calling her beautiful had him feeling a bit possessive   

Harry gritted his teeth, feeling his heart race as Y/N hugged and mingled with the guests. Her laugh floated through the air, and Harry swore he could feel it wrapping around him like a spell.

"Excuse me," Harry muttered to Dan before heading for the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and leaned against the sink, gripping the porcelain edges tightly. His reflection stared back at him, his jaw clenched. Get it together, Styles, he thought. Don’t let her lure you in again.

It had been months since they last saw each other, months since they last… messed around. He would text her, no response for hours even days but whenever she texted him. He would respond immediately. If she called for him he would jump.

Jane was everything stable, safe. But Y/N? She was wild, unpredictable. A siren, pulling him deeper whenever she was near.

He took a deep breath, splashing cold water on his face. He couldn't let himself get caught in her orbit again. Not tonight.

When he finally left the bathroom, the air felt charged, his skin tingling with anticipation. He weaved through the crowd, heading straight for Mitch. He needed something—anything—to distract him.

"Mitch, mate, happy birthday!" Harry exclaimed, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

"Thanks, man! Glad you made it," Mitch replied, smiling.

They chatted easily, Harry grateful for the reprieve, until—

“Happy Birthday, Mitchell!" a familiar voice cut through the conversation.

Harry froze.

He turned just in time to see Y/N wrapping her arms around Mitch in a tight hug, her voice sweet as honey. She was the only person who called him Mitchell, a nickname she'd coined ages ago. Mitch didn't seem to mind; in fact, his grin widened as he hugged her back.

"Thanks, Y/N," Mitch said with a chuckle, patting her on the back.

"I got your gift. It's over on the table," she said, pointing behind her. "Didn’t know where else to put it."

Mitch barely had time to respond before someone else called his name from across the room. "Sorry, guys," he said, excusing himself. Sending Harry a sympathetic look before walking away.

And then, it was just Harry and Y/N.

"Look who it is," Y/N said, her voice dripping with playful mischief, her eyes sparkling as she smiled at him.

Harry felt a lump form in his throat, her gaze drawing him in like it always did. She tilted her head slightly, as if daring him to speak.

But he couldn’t move. Not yet. The memories of their last night together—the heat, the tension, the way her touch lingered far longer than it should have—flooded his mind, clouding his judgment.

"Long time, no see," she said, stepping closer, her presence commanding all his attention.

Harry swallowed hard, trying to muster the willpower not to fall under her spell again. But the pull was undeniable. She was electric, like pure fire, and he, once again, was the moth drawn to her irresistible flame.

He forced a smirk, trying to seem casual despite the chaos swirling inside him. "Didn’t think I’d see you tonight. Thought you were off traveling."

She shrugged, her smile lazy and seductive, never wavering. "I was. But Mitch's birthday is special, you know? And besides… I always find my way back."

Her words lingered between them, heavy with a meaning he couldn’t ignore.

"Where’s that little girlfriend of yours?" she asked, her voice soft but pointed, her gaze locking onto his. Every time their eyes met, it was as though her power seeped into him, coiling around his thoughts. He could feel the familiar tug, the way she seemed to unravel him with just a glance.

So he looked away, pretending to scan the room.

"Jane couldn’t make it," Harry said, clearing his throat, the weight of her name like an anchor tethering him to some semblance of control. He hoped it would be enough to ground him.

Y/N’s smile faltered, but only for a fraction of a second, something darker flickering behind her eyes. She stepped closer, leaning in just enough for her voice to lower, teasing him. "Shame. I guess it’s just us, then."

His heart pounded, the sound of it deafening in his ears. He kept his eyes fixed on the crowd, avoiding her like he was running from a storm he couldn’t outrun.

"Uhh… so, how are things?" he asked, his voice dry and brittle. It was the only thing he could think to say, a flimsy attempt to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters.

"Things are okay," she replied softly, her tone suddenly casual, as if the tension between them hadn’t just spiked. "I’ve been around the world, but I think I’m staying put for a while."

There was something about the way she said it that made Harry’s stomach twist. He was about to respond when her voice dropped, the concern in it almost unnerving. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

Her question threw him off balance, her concern cutting through the haze in his mind. "Just a bit parched. I’m going to grab a drink," he muttered, stepping to the side, desperate to escape her gravitational pull.

But before he could slip away, her hand wrapped around his arm, firm but gentle. The touch was electric, sending a jolt through his body, forcing him to look at her. He met her eyes, and for a moment, he was lost all over again. Maybe a drink could help him relax.

"Can you bring me something, too?" she asked, her voice soft but commanding, her gaze locking him in place.

His breath hitched, his mind spinning. The look in her eyes was hypnotic, and no matter how much he tried to resist, he couldn’t pull away.

"Yea, I can do that." He said, his nerves getting the best of him. He made his way to Mitch kitchen. Quickly grabbing him some water to help deal with the tension he could feel building. He looked over to see look at her again. Seeing another man already talking to her. His jaw clenched it was no time wasted. It was always like this with Y/n. He could tell that the man was offering her a drink but she denied making eye contact with Harry who was already looking at her. He could see her implying that Harry was getting her a drink. Harry grabbed a glass filling his with scotch. Needing something strong to deal with this. Filling Y/n a can of lemonade. She hated the taste of alcohol. Pouring her lemonade in a cup so she gives off the appearance that she is drinking. Which is what she likes. Harry remembers every detail about her.

Harry made his way back to Y/n. Stepping beside the random man.

"Here you are love." He said with a smile handing her the drink. Adding the 'love' almost like he's claiming his territory. He knew he shouldn't be behaving this way. But he hated how attractive she was.

"Thank you Harry." She said with a smile. The guy looked between them. Taking a hint before walking away. Y/n didn't even notice too focused on her newest victim.

Y/N raised the cup to her lips, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she took a sip. Harry stood beside her, his pulse quickening as the man who had been lingering near her quickly took the hint and left. He wasn’t sure if it was the scotch in his hand or the tension that had been simmering all night, but he felt a surge of possessiveness he couldn’t shake.

"You didn’t have to scare him off, you know," she teased, glancing up at him through her lashes, her voice smooth and low.

Harry raised an eyebrow, forcing a nonchalant smirk. "Scare him off? I didn’t say a word."

"You didn’t have to." She leaned in just slightly, her eyes locking onto his, her lips barely brushing the rim of her cup. "It’s like you claimed me in front of him, Harry. Didn’t think you’d still care that much."

His grip tightened around his glass, his mind spinning as her words hung in the air. He took a sip of his drink, letting the burn of the scotch fuel his response. "I don’t care," he lied, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. "Just didn’t want you to get stuck with some guy who’s not worth your time."

She laughed softly, the sound sending a wave of heat through him. "Is that so? And here I thought I could handle myself." Her eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was something more beneath the surface, something that felt like a challenge.

Harry felt the tension building again, the same magnetic pull between them that he had been fighting all night. He knew he should walk away, keep his distance, but there was something about her that always drew him back in.

"Maybe you can," he said, his voice softer now, his gaze flicking down to her lips. "But it doesn’t hurt to have backup, does it?"

Y/N tilted her head, studying him with a look that made his heart race. "You offering to be my backup now?" she asked, her voice dropping lower, teasing. "I remember a time when you’d jump at the chance."

Harry swallowed, trying to steady himself. "Things change."

"Do they?" She stepped closer, her body brushing against his as she whispered, "Because it feels like nothing’s changed at all."

He felt the heat of her body, the scent of her perfume filling the space between them. His breath caught in his throat, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of which involved Jane or any sense of control.

"You really should stop looking at me like that," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

"Like what?" Y/N asked, feigning innocence, but her eyes betrayed her. She knew exactly what she was doing, and Harry hated how good she was at it.

"Like you know exactly what’s going on in my head," he replied, his voice thick with tension. "Because I’m trying really hard not to—"

"Not to what?" she interrupted, stepping even closer until their faces were just inches apart.

"Not to fall for your game again," he admitted, his voice hushed, almost like a confession.

Y/N smiled, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of his collar. "Who says it's a game?" she whispered, her lips dangerously close to his ear. "Maybe I just missed you."

The words sent a shiver through him, and he couldn’t stop the way his body reacted. His hand instinctively reached out, brushing against her waist, pulling her closer. He was losing the fight, and he knew it.

"I don’t believe you," Harry said, his voice low, but even as the words left his mouth, they felt weak.

She laughed softly, a sound that felt like it wrapped around him, teasing him, pulling him in deeper. "Then don’t," she whispered, her lips brushing against his jaw. "But you’ll stay anyway. You always do."

Harry closed his eyes, his mind screaming at him to stop, to pull away, but he couldn’t. The way her body fit against his, the way her breath felt warm against his skin—it was all too much.

"You’re impossible," he muttered, his voice strained, but his hands were already on her, pulling her closer.

"You love it," she teased, her eyes flicking up to meet his, a challenge dancing in their depths.

For a moment, they stood there, the tension between them crackling like electricity, neither of them willing to break the spell. It was dangerous, playing with fire like this, but Harry couldn’t resist her. He never could.

"I should walk away," he said, though his hands remained firmly on her hips.

"Then why don’t you?" Y/N whispered, her voice sultry and daring as she leaned in, her lips barely brushing his.

Harry's breath hitched, the fire between them burning hotter by the second. He knew he should walk away, but the pull was too strong. "Because you won’t let me."

Y/N smiled, her fingers tangling in his hair as she closed the distance between them, her lips grazing his in a soft, tantalizing kiss. "Exactly," she whispered against his lips, and before he could think, he was kissing her back, their bodies melting into each other like they had been waiting for this moment all night.

The kiss was slow at first, testing the waters, but it quickly deepened, the heat between them rising as all the restraint he had been clinging to shattered. Harry’s hands roamed over her back, pulling her closer as if he couldn’t get enough of her, as if he needed her to breathe.

It was everything he had been trying to resist, and now that he had her in his arms, he didn’t want to stop.

"See?" Y/N murmured against his lips, her voice breathless and full of satisfaction. "I always find my way back."

Harry’s phone buzzed in his pocket, the vibration cutting through the haze of desire that clouded his mind. He broke away from Y/N, breathless, blinking as though he’d just woken from a dream. The air between them still crackled with tension, but the sudden intrusion of reality jolted him back. He glanced down at the screen.

It was Jane.

His heart raced for a different reason now. Guilt settled in his chest as he quickly looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed. But no one was paying attention. The room hummed with casual conversation, and he realized they had tucked themselves into a corner, mostly hidden from view.

"Hold on" he muttered to Y/N, his voice low, his throat tight. He stepped away from her, feeling the weight of her gaze on his back as he moved toward the hallway just outside the bathroom.

He answered the call, forcing his voice to sound steady. "Hey, Jane."

"Hey, baby," Jane’s voice was soft, concerned. "Are you okay? I was just checking in. It’s getting late."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, his pulse still racing. He leaned against the wall, trying to gather himself. "Yeah, I’m fine," he replied, his voice calm despite the chaos swirling in his mind. "I should be home soon."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Harry could feel Y/N’s presence even before he saw her. She had followed him into the hallway, her steps slow and deliberate. His back stiffened, but he didn’t turn around. Not yet. He could hear Jane asking something, but his mind was already distracted.

Y/N didn’t wait for an invitation. She stepped closer, her breath warm against his neck, her fingers grazing the back of his shirt. Harry’s entire body tensed, but before he could react, her lips found his skin, pressing soft, teasing kisses along the side of his neck.

Harry’s grip tightened around the phone, his voice nearly cracking as he tried to focus. "Yeah… I’m still at Mitch’s. Just... just saying goodbye." His words were hurried, clipped, but he tried to keep them even, praying that Jane wouldn’t notice the strain in his voice.

Y/N smiled against his neck, her lips trailing lower, dangerously close to his collarbone. She wasn’t holding back now, her kisses deliberate and slow, her hand sliding around his waist, pulling him back into her orbit. It was intoxicating—the way she knew exactly how to play him, how to unravel him even in the middle of a phone call.

"Are you sure everything’s okay?" Jane asked, her voice tinged with worry. "You sound… off."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, his breath catching in his throat as Y/N’s teeth grazed his skin, sending a jolt through him. "I’m fine," he forced out, his voice shaky. "Just… just tired. I’ll be home soon, I promise."

Y/N’s soft chuckle was barely audible, but he could feel the satisfaction radiating off her. She was pushing him, testing how far she could go. Her hand slid up his chest, and Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound.

"Okay," Jane said, clearly still concerned. "I love you, Harry. Drive safe, okay?"

He swallowed hard, guilt crashing over him in waves. "I love you too," he muttered, his voice almost breaking as Y/N’s lips continued to work their way along his neck.

As soon as he hung up, he let out a shaky breath, his head spinning from the intensity of it all. Y/N pulled back slightly, her smirk visible in the dim light of the hallway.

"You’re playing a dangerous game," he whispered as he turned to face her. his voice rough, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/N’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You love it," she teased, her voice soft and seductive as she leaned in again, her lips just inches from his ear. "Besides, you didn’t stop me."

Harry’s breath hitched, his body still trembling from the closeness of her. She was right—he hadn’t stopped her. He could’ve, but he didn’t. Instead, he had let her push him further and further, crossing lines he knew he shouldn’t.

"I should go," Harry said, though the words barely held any weight. His body was still on fire from her touch, and despite everything, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Instead, he did the opposite. His hands slid down to her waist, gripping her tightly, pulling her closer to him, their bodies pressing together as if he needed the contact to breathe.

Y/N tilted her head, her smirk never fading, her eyes gleaming with victory. "You don’t really want that," she whispered, her hands finding their way around his neck, fingers gently brushing the nape. She pulled his face closer, their lips inches apart, her breath warm against his skin.

Her words hung in the air, thick with temptation. Harry felt like he was standing on the edge of something dangerous, teetering between falling back into the same patterns or somehow finding the strength to walk away. His mind screamed at him to stop, to go home to Jane, to salvage what was left of his control.

But Y/N’s pull was too strong. She was too close, too intoxicating.

He looked down at her, his breath shallow, the last threads of his resolve unraveling. He could see the amusement in her eyes, the way she knew exactly what she was doing to him, how she always had the upper hand.

"I hate you," he muttered, though the words held no conviction. His hands tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer until there was no space left between them. His lips hovered near hers, his body betraying everything he was trying to fight.

Y/N laughed softly, her lips grazing his ear, sending another shiver down his spine. "Mmhmm," she hummed back, her voice thick with satisfaction. She knew she had him.

And with that, Harry gave in. He kissed her again, harder this time, his lips crashing against hers as if he couldn’t get enough. There was no hesitation, no holding back, just raw, unfiltered desire. His hands gripped her waist even tighter, pulling her flush against him as they melted into the kiss, the world outside disappearing.

Harry pulled away, looking down at her. He reached behind her opening the door to the bathroom.

"Inside. Now." He said, his voice authoritative. She grabbed him by his collar pulling him in with her. Harry closed the door behind him. Kissing her immediately as she leaned against the sink. The kiss intensified behind closed doors. Harry has missed her mouth so much. She started to unbutton the shirt. Once unbuttoned her hands grazed all over her chest. Harrys lips made it way down her neck. Kissing her neck. All there movements were hungry and desperate. Her top was scoop neck no bra in sight her nipples hard harry pulled down the top revealing her small breast.his hands started pinching her nipples. Getting a small gasp from Y/n. He loved the sound of satisfaction from her. Whenever she gave him the slightest moans. It was more than enough for him.

Her hand slid his chest to the bulge in his trousers. "Ohh you're so hard already. Must have missed me?" She said with a smirk she worked the button of his pants undoing and quickly unzipping the pants before letting them fall to his feet. Once her hand grazed his dick through his briefs he felt like he was going bust right then and there. He quickly picked her up. By her ass putting her on the counter of sink. His lips found hers kissing her hungry as he grinding his bulge against her as he he kissed her. Their tongues exploring each other excessively. Her pleated skirt flipped up against his her. He let out moans. Enjoying every second of her. Grinding against the west spot between his legs. Feeling like a teenage boy who finally was able to touch a woman. He was so eager

"Take my panties off," she panted against his lips. He complied, stepping back and pulling the red lace down her legs over her red heels. leaving her skirt in place. As she took them from him, she held the soaked fabric up to his face; he buried his nose in them, inhaling deeply and savoring the scent of her arousal.

"You missed havent you?" She asked seductively , He nodded. His nose snuffed in the panties. He did miss it. Her scent was his favorite.

"Take them off." She said her hand gesturing to his gray briefs. He nodded pulling his briefs down to his ankles with his pants. He stepped closer to her. His dick grazing against her pussy. A small hiss released from his mouth. She grabbed his dick. Placing right at her entrance before he could push himself in.

"Do you want to fuck me?" She purred as his hardened tip grazed against her entrance. He nodded fervently, unable to form words with the overwhelming need coursing through him. She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Use your words, tired of the nods," she scolded, a hint of arousal lacing her stern tone.

"Yes, please," he pleaded desperately, earning a satisfied smirk from her.

"That's it, my good boy," she cooed, "come on baby."

With a soft sigh and an alluring smirk, she guided him inside her. Harry's eyes rolled back in bliss. He was lost in the ecstasy of Y/n's pleasure, craving nothing but the sweet release that only she could give him.

"My baby, did you miss my warm, wet pussy?" she purred, her hand caressing the back of his neck.

"Mmmhmm," he moaned in response. He grip tightened on his neck,

"Say it with your words," she demanded firmly.

"Yes, I missed it so much," he gasped, closing his eyes in pleasure. He craved this submission to her. Jane was a good partner, but Y/n ignited a fiery passion within him that he could not resist.

"Can your little girlfriend give you the same pleasure that I can?" she taunted with a knowing smirk. He didn't answer, instead thrusting faster and harder into her awaiting body.

"Answer me," she demanded, her grip tightening around his neck as she pinched his nipple with her other hand. The pain shot through him, but it only added to the pleasure.

He mumbled incoherently, desperately trying to answer her question. "She can't," he repeated, his words becoming more and more slurred as he lost himself in the moment. But Y/n just smiled, moving both of her hands to the back of his neck and pulling his forehead towards hers.

"You're such a good boy," she purred, looking deeply into his eyes as their bodies moved together in rhythm. The friction between them was electric, driving them both closer and closer to the edge. Harry could feel himself getting close, his release building within him.

"Are you gonna cum, baby?" Y/n whispered seductively, knowing exactly what effect her words would have on him.

"Yes, please," he groaned, still thrusting deeply inside her.

"Can I cum inside you?" he asked eagerly, desperation evident in his voice.

"Hmm, I don't know," Y/n teased, biting her lip playfully as she continued to move with him. She wanted to draw out this moment, make him beg for release.

"Y/n, please," he begged, his control slipping away from him.

"Tell me who your dick belongs to," she commanded with a sly smirk on her lips. And with that final push, Harry couldn't hold back any longer. He surrendered completely to her, letting out a guttural moan as he finally reached his peak.

The sound of their grunts and heavy breaths filled the room as they moved in perfect rhythm. "Fuckk! It's yours! Only yours!" he said, struggling to maintain a steady pace with his thrusts.

She smiled and whispered, "You can cum." With her lips still connected to his, she felt Harry release inside her, feeling his body shudder in defeat. He collapsed onto her, breathing heavily as he rested his head on her shoulder.

"You're always so good for me, Harry," she said lovingly, running her hand through his hair and placing a soft kiss on his ear. He didn't say anything in response, but the way he held onto her told her all she needed to know.

"Harry, you have to get back to Jane." She said, his dick still resting inside her. Harry's reality sinks back in. What he did. He pulled himself out of her quickly pulling up his pants. She could see the flustered look on his face.

”Harry.” she said placing her red lacet panties in his hand.

"Keep these for the next time I feel like playing with you," she whispered, a sly smile tugging at her lips as she handed him her panties. She casually fixed her hair and applied a fresh coat of lip gloss, her movements slow and deliberate. With one last teasing glance over her shoulder, she left the restroom, now panties-less, leaving Harry standing there, still burning with desire, his mind racing as he watched her disappear.

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

A Dark Love

Summary: Two murders on the run in the 70’s fall in love.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, murder, death obvi, gore, smut, knife kink, blood kink, mentions of cannibalism, lots of angst,just a warning this is kind of heavy! So if you don’t feel comfy don’t read ❤️‍🔥

Wc:3.8k

Y/n is sure that man is watching her every move. Either that, or it’s her paranoia building up after being on the run for ten days. 

Ten whole days without a single cop glancing her way, after murdering two men at a bar she thought they would at least have a lead on her, but nothing. Nothing for a whole year. Since the news broke of several different men carelessly slashing women, Y/n has decided if men can kill women for no good reason, she can kill men for no reason. It’s better to have no men on the planet than only a few good ones. 

Her first was Tommy. Thirty two, blue eyes, brown hair, two hundred and three pounds, born January fourth nineteen forty two. He lives alone in a two bedroom apartment, his room filled with porno mags and disgusting memorabilia of past girls he obsessed over until his last moment. 

Y/n met him behind a bar just ten hours after the news about Lynda Ann Healy broke. Y/n was so disgusted and horrified that she fell into a spell once he tried pulling her back into his busted Red Ford pinto that she killed him right then and there, pulling the sharp buckle from her belt and stabbing him, walking all the way back home will bright crimson blood dripping from her face.

That night she discovered her new love. She had always adored taking care of herself, taking it slow and appreciating the simple things in life, like a hot bath or a new rose scented face cream- but nothing made her feel quite better than seeing her plump young skin masked in a coat of blood. She felt like she was reborn, branded into a new woman with a new fresh hungry need to kill. 

Since that night she’s been slashing into any man she can, the more bloody the better for her, bathing in the thick blood like it is a luxurious skin cream.  Now she’s up to fifteen bodies. 

“Have a problem?” Y/n calls over, feeling the cool metal of her dagger press into the plump skin of her thigh to make sure it was still right where she wanted it. There was nothing she loved more than leading a man down onto his knees for his last sight to be her uncovering her sharp blade. 

The man is handsome, standing tall with a slim but sturdy build, Tattoos, silky hair piled on top of his head- he obviously hasn’t gotten a haircut in a few months, big green eyes, a mustache dusted above his lip, dressed in some button up shirt with all too tight pants.

 She can have a little fun with him before she kills him. 

“Not at all, sweet thing.” He shoots her a wink before lighting a joint, taking a drag from it then passing it off to her. She pushes it back toward him but takes her place leaning next to him against his shiny blue car. “No thanks.” He lets out a tiny laugh, pulling it back to his mouth instead. “Your loss.” He breathes out, smoke falling from his mouth. 

“I don’t smoke strangers' pot.” Y/n says, glancing up at the man. He smiles, “Then let me introduce myself. I’m Harry. Now we know each other, babe.” She rolls her eyes, stepping back. “I can already tell you’re an asshole.” He tosses his arms out, “c’mon, I don’t bite.” A large smile spreads on his lips, but she ignores it and walks back to the car.

Y/n isn’t quite sure why the man’s stupid words bothered her so much, but she had a feeling about him and something was off. She walks a few feet back to her car before getting inside and starting it up. Shoving the key in and twisting it she realizes the old car finally bit the dust, merely taunting her with a cough but no roar to start. 

Her head turns at the noise, seeing Harry roll up next to her. “Looks like you need a ride.” She rolls her eyes, grabbing her couple of bags and stuffing them in his car before flopping into his passenger seat. The car was stolen so she wouldn’t miss it. 

What’s the worst that could happen? If he tried something she would just plunge her dagger straight into his heart… but she would lose her cool if her favorite corduroy skirt happened to get blood splatter on it. 

“Where are you going?” He asks, glancing over her tight and reserved body language. “Anywhere.” The 

“Seriously, where are you going? I thought we were over that stranger danger shit.” Y/ns rolls her eyes at the man, picking at her manicured nails to avoid his gaze. “I’m just going.” it's his turn to roll his eyes, scoffing at her. “Seriously,”

“Get off my case, asshole. You need to take a chill pill.” 

“I need to chill?! You need to stop being so fucking up tight!” The second he raises his voice at her she spreads her legs and pulls her dagger from the inside of her thigh, gripping it tight in her hand while he throws his up in surrender.``Hey, Hey, Hey” he rushes out, getting her to back off. “Either fuck off or ill slit your throat. It’s up to you Harry.” She says with a sweet smile, her heart racing from the adrenaline pumping through her veins and the excitement of possibly getting a small taste of the pretty boy's blood. 

“Jesus, sorry.” She gives a tiny nod at his apology and backs down, but not before he starts chuckling. “But you wouldnt of stabbed me.'' He raises her hand again, carelessly aiming to just teach him a lesson instead of actually killing him. 

“Fuck!” He shouts, blood pouring from his hand. “Dont get it on my fucking skirt!” she shouts back, groaning at a little drop of blood soaking into her skirt. Harry quickly pulls the silky wrap she had tied around her hair and wraps it around his hand to stop the bleeding. 

After their panic settled they both let out a shaky breath before Harry pulled her in, grabbing her knife and pressing his lips to hers. “That was so fucking hot but if you ever do that again I will kill you.” 

The car is stopped in the middle of the road but that doesn’t stop them from tearing off each other's clothes. She yanks Harry’s button up shirt open while he peels her panties down her legs. She takes her turn and unbuckles his belt, shoving her hand down his pants and pulling his cock out. 

Hushed words are exchanged as she slides his big cock deep inside of her pussy, licking the fresh blood that drips down his wrists as he thrusts in and out of her from under her. 

Harry holds her dagger against her neck, the sharp blade scraping against her delicate skin. She lets out a moan, her mouth and chin covered in his blood. He kisses her, his tongue slipping inside of her mouth to taste her. 

 “I can’t believe you stabbed me.” He laughs on her lips, softly dragging the knife down her throat before pressing it between her breasts. He kisses her one last time before pulling away breathlessly, “if you ever try that again, I promise, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” He presses the tip of the dagger into her chest enough to draw a bit of blood then pulls it away. 

To be clear, Harry has never killed a woman. Really just killing random men, slitting their throats or strangling them when he notices they are following a young girl home, or slipping a pill in someone’s drink, only for good reason. He’s not a psychopath, he’s only murdered 12 people!

“I’m cumming, fuck.” Y/n cums, letting out a moan and pulling herself away from the man.

After they dress themselves, Harry returns to driving, stepping on the gas and riding down the old country road. It was an absolute ghost town, corn fields, boarded up farm houses, and abandoned shops are the only things left in the old town. Y/n loved this. This was the kind of place she could stay in forever, a town where there are little people and no one cares to get to know the tiny population. 

She might consider settling down here, there’s only a gas station and a tiny grocery store, but even those are smaller than the average small town shops. This looked like a lowkey spot to hide out in, or maybe it is something straight out of a horror film- but so is she. 

“Pull over” Y/n finally speaks up after about twenty minutes of driving in silence. There was a tiny yellow motel, paint chipping and graffiti covered all along the exterior. “What?” Y/n rolls her eyes at his questioning she grabs the wheel from him and drives through the grass and into the parking lot of the rundown motel.  “What the fuck?!” Harry yells, quickly putting the car in park. Y/n jumps out before she can hear any of his bitching and walks through the motel and into a check out counter. 

Behind the counter there is a man, a short but sturdy build man with clown makeup on. Any normal person passing through this town and stopping at the motel for a safe place to lay their head for a night would be startled to see such a man behind the counter but this comforted Y/n. If the tall man was anything like her, she knew there wasn’t a chance the cops could bust her here. 

“Howdy… Gus. I’m going to need a room for tonight.” She glances at the big wooden sign that reads “HOWDY” with a large cowboy hat burned into it. She isn’t sure where she is, but wherever she was she knew it was just a bunch of homicidal fucked up hicks. 

“Single bed or two beds?” The man grumbles, a low deep voice coming out of such a short man. “Single bed.” Harry comes behind her, scoffing. “I’m going to need a room too.” 

“Bad news, there’s only one room.” 

“How many beds?” Y/n shoots up, hoping she doesn’t have to deal with this man for god knows how long. Yeah, he was just inside of her thirty minutes ago, but that doesn’t mean she wants anything to do with him. 

“Only one.” Fucking classic. 

“Well you can just keep on steppin’.” Harry shakes his head at her words. “No way, not after you drug me with this hell hole.” Y/n pulls a tight lipped smile, shoving her hand into her pocket aggressively and pulling out some bills and change to slam on the counter before snatching the key from Gus’ hand and stomping off. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The door flies open while Y/n storms into it, almost hitting Harry with the heavy wooden door. When she takes a quick look-see around the room she is instantly disgusted with the orange shag carpet, the stiff avocado green bedspread and the brightly cartoonish art bolted to the wall. “Well isn’t this just fucking nifty.” She lets out a huff then throws herself back on the bed. 

“You act like I’m not bummed out about this too! But we both need a place to crash and it might as well be with each other since we’re in the same boat. So, if you could stop your whining I’m going to clean up my hand.” 

She looks away, rolling her eyes. “I won’t hesitate to whip out my blade on you again.” He tossed a hand out to her before locking himself in the bathroom. 

Y/n takes this time to unpack her bags, which is really just unzipping them and then tossing them onto the floor. 

She’s not sure why she was drawn to this place, but she had a good feeling about it. Sometimes she regrets hurting all those men, having to live such a quiet life, always being on the move and never stable. But she’s hoping soon enough the investigation will be closed. They have been working to figure out who is behind this string of murders for far too long and she knows if she just sticks it out a little while longer they will give up. She’s sad for the families grieving, but not sad that there is a couple less useless fucks in this already shitty world. 

Hopefully she and Harry will get along. They got off to a rough start, and are still in a rough stop, but she thinks with a little work they could be partners in crime- no that she’s planning on killing any men while she’s in hiding, but if need be. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Where did you run off to?” 

Y/n  pushes open the motel door, kicking it shut with her heel and pulling her glass bottle of big red up to her lips for a swig. She dumps the big paper bag onto the entertainment center of the motel room, tossing a bag of chips at the man, then pulling her carton of cigs out and lighting one up. “Convenience store.” She mumbles through her exhale of smoke, flopping back on the squeaky bed where Harry sits up straight. 

“If we’re going to be staying together we need to learn a little bit more about each other.” Y/n rolls her eyes, taking another drag off of her Marlboro. “Why are you suddenly Mister moral? Don’t you like…kill people?” Harry rolls his eyes, he’s grown increasingly agitated with her and if she wasn't such a pretty girl maybe he would kill her. 

“Yeah, bad people. But that’s irrelevant. I hardly know you.” 

“That didn’t stop you from fucking me in your car twenty minutes after we met, even after I stabbed you.” Harry stands up, shaking his head, leaning back and growing out of frustration. “You’ve got a smart fucking mouth.” She gives him a breathy chuckle. “Yeah?” She slowly rises to her feet, ashing her cigarette on the shag carpet and taking another drag from it. “What are you going to do about it?” He takes that as a challenge, grabbing her jaw with his bandaged band, four fingers on one side and his thumb on the other. 

They lock eye contact for a couple of beats before Harry pushes his lips onto her, pushing her down onto the bed and unbuckling his belt. It was already three in the morning, and they both know people are sleeping but no one staying in this hell hole is resting well. She slides down the silky sleep shorts she had slid on along with a tattered graphic tee before heading off to the store. Y/n keeps her eyes on his hands as he pulls his belt off and pushes his trousers down. 

Hushed words are exchanged and before either of them know it Harry is deep inside of her, lifting one leg to get deeper. 

Y/n smiles blissfully, reaching for her dagger she had tossed on the bed and sliding it against his hip bone, making sure not to nick his sensitive skin with her piercing sharp knife. Harry grabs it from her hand, trailing it up her hot body and slowly makes his way up to her neck. He traces the blade around her ear, taking his time before he slides it against the side of her neck, making sure to be soft with her. She annoys the fuck out of him, she has a smart mouth and was too reserved for someone so mouthy, but he cant help but kind of adore her. 

He quickly pulls out of her, cumming all over her pussy. “Oh fuck” she whispers, flopping her head back and relaxing into the bed. 

Harry pushes her shirt up, kissing over her bare chest and trailing it down her stomach. She feels a fluttery feeling in her belly. Similar to how she feels after she comes home prior to slashing into a man, blood spraying all over her face. She gets to stand under the warm spray of her shower, watching the water go from crimson to clear and drain down, giving her skin a good scrub before sitting bare in front of her vanity and pampering herself with rich creams. She feels like she's being taken care of, such a light delicate feeling. 

 He sinks to his knees, spreading her legs wide and burying his face between them. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Rise ‘n shine.” Harry sings, shaking Y/n awake. 

Y/n blinks her eyes open, groaning and getting in a good stretch so she's not so stiff. “What's on your face?” Harry's hand comes up to wipe at his face, examining the splatter he wipes off. “Oh, i'm not sure.” he walks into the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before stepping back into her vision. 

“I've been thinking a lot this morning.” 

“It’s seven in the morning, how much thinking can you do?” Harry shrugs at her questions, pushing his frankly, fabulous hair back and starting to gather his things together to pack in his hefty leather bag. “Like I was saying, I’ve kind of been thinking… let's leave. Let’s go find some other place to stay.” 

Y/n whips her head back to him whilst she strips naked and starts the water in the pink tiled bathroom. “What the fuck are you talking about? I thought we decided that this was the perfect place to hide out! It’s a fucking ghost town here.” 

Harry rocks back and forth then turns on his heel to start pacing back and forth in front of the messy bed from Y/n tossing and turning all night. “Not to get all weird but I can't talk to you when you're bare naked. it's tripping me out.” She scoffs, “Prude.” then steps into the shower. 

“If you dont mind, make this shower lickety split. I'm itching to get out of this place!” Y/n groans at his nagging, quickly rinsing the shampoo out of her hair and squirting a rather large pile of cream white conditioner into her palm and working it into her hair. “Why are you so impatient? Why cant you take a fucking chill pill.”

“This place is just creeping me out, man. I gotta get out of here.” She groans again, feeling the irritation bubble up and begin to boil over. “We agreed that this is the perfect spot to stay. I'm already settled in. Why leave now?” 

“Enough with all the questions, please.” 

“Why?!” 

“Cause I fucking killed Gus! Okay?! Now please, can you speed this the fuck up so we can get into my goddamn car so we can find some other place to stay?!” Y/n calming but quickly rinses her body off and steps out of the shower, drying herself off much too quickly, basically still dripping wet and she throws the towel into a tiny laundry basket. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Harry throws both of his hands out.

 “Again! Jesus christ can you just put something on?” 

“Oh my god!” She throws a shirt at him, sliding panties up her legs and quickly getting dressed, deciding to go simple with a pair of yellow corduroy flares and a black rolling stones tee shirt tucked into it. “I guess lets fucking go since you decided to murder someone.” She grabs her back and Harry trails right behind her, walking down the long dark hallway. “We're literally on the run to try to get out of murder charges and you decided to kill the dude behind the check-in counter. What the fuck was that for?” Harry grumbles, obviously growing more and more agitated by her never ending questions and attitude. “I dont want to talk about it.” 

They hop in the car, and take off once again. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

They've been driving for a while. 

If Y/n is honest, She’s kind of bummed that they had to leave that motel. At first she was just worried that they would catch wind of another murder and have her and Harry’s name tied to it, but thankfully their records are clean and Gus never took record of their stay. But now, she just misses it. It was a little spooky and there were other sketchy weirdos staying there but that comforted her more than anything. 

Y/n thinks she's feeling a touch homesick, after moving into her previous apartment she finally had a place of her own to call home with no roommate, it was all to herself. Having no sense of stability, only being on the road was kind of messing with her, but as much as she doesnt want to admit it to herself- and especially to him, having Harry as a partner in crime has been really great. 

“So, do you think youll ever go back to wherever you ran from?” Y/n shakes her head, her feet hung out of the window and a cigarette perched between her two fingers. “Nope. kind of starting fresh. Finding a whole new job and shit, a new place to stay. Maybe I’ll be an avon lady.” They both laugh at her joke. “Me too. Now that I've left there's no way I'm going back.” 

“Can I ask you a question and get an honest answer this time?” Harry quickly glances at Y/n, “Sure.” There is a beat of silence before she speaks again. “Why did you kill Gus? I can tell it wasn’t just because he pissed you off. We stayed up talking all last night and you dont kill unless you've got a good reason.” 

“So you want the honest answer?” 

“Yeah” 

“It was because of you.” 

“Me?!” Y/n shouts, she hardly spoke a word to Gus. 

“Yeah, he was telling me how hot he thought you were and for some reason I just kind of… lashed out.” 

Y/n takes a moment to process it, ashing her cigarette and taking one last drag on it before putting it out in the car's ashtray. She clears her throat, “So what, do you think i'm your girlfriend or something now?” 

“Well, if you want. I'm not uptight about shit like that or anything. We can just vibe it out.” Y/n softly laughs. “Okay, lover boy.” 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Y/n and Harry finally found a place to stay. Thankfully, Harry and Y/n both had good money saved up prior to them being on the run so they splurged at a nice hotel and decided to stay in the suite. 

This time, Y/n didn't throw a fit when she had to stay in the same room and same bed as Harry. She lets him be a gentleman and he carries her bag up to their room. This time, its going to be different. This time they are going to stay put,find a spot for them to settle down together- not just in a hotel room. Maybe they will put their lives of crime behind them and stick together as one happy couple. 

Maybe. 

Hiiiii!!!! If you liked this PLEASE reblog!! I’ll love you forever and I doubt a lot of people are going to read this due to sensitive subject matter but hoping this will hit my target audience 😭 im really scared that this got boring towards the middle but it was inspired by house of 1000 corpses! hope you liked it !

Tag list: @harrysddtittys @hopeyoustaythenight @harrysdimple05 @damnasstyles @harrysfolklore @msolbesg @thismaydestroyme @stallrry @ayeshathestyles @michellekstyles @lhharrylilpumpkin @kissmyaxe140 @buckymydarlingangel @cherrycolas-things @luvonstyles @victoria-styles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite

[watermelonlovershigh]

Like seriously, have the people who suddenly think Watermelon Sugar is about drugs seen the music video? It's basically a big bisexual oral orgy? He may have been doing drugs while making the song, but the video is very telling.