#i dont do this often but I felt like today warranted it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

“it’s not that important”

Summary: Y/N is in Harry’s band and one night they have a drunken hook up. One thing leads to another and they find themselves engaging in a friend’s with benefits type of situation. spoiler: it is important

AKA: A friends with benefits to lovers story :) with some angst in there

This is for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration so my trope is friends with benefits! prompt is “you have no goddamn idea what you do to me. when i’m around you, i have no control of my emotions or my thoughts” and the tenth picture ^ i kinda just used it in the beginning to descripe what he was wearing - i got really carried away with this story but the prompt is in there !! lol, not proofread tho but would love your feedback !!!! :) love y’all very much

oh boy i’ve had this done for agesss but i hadn’t written the smut until today so now we’re here i dont even remember what happens - i vaguely remember not loving the end but I hope yall enjoy

Word Count: 15.4k (longest fic to date) | Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, alcohol consumption? i dont remember but i dont think theres anything too heavy in here.

“Hey Harold!” You smile as you easily hop over the side of the couch and settle beside your bandmate.

Harry groans, yet can’t keep the small smile off of his face when he sees it’s you. “How many times have I told you to never call me that?”

Your eyes narrow at his faux glare. “And how many times have I told you, I simply do not care?”

You reach a hand out and tousle his already disheveled, unstyled brown hair. Despite his lack of styling, his hair still looked perfect. His chestnut hair fell into a middle part when he did nothing to it and you found it endearing. It made him look far younger than he truly was, like a boy you might have pursued when you were in your early days at college. The waves slightly framed his prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw that was sporting a tiny amount of stubble.

He moves his arm from around the back of the couch to pat at his hair, trying to put it back in its nondescript position you had just messed with. After he’s satisfied, he uses the same hand to push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. They’re chestnut brown Gucci frames that match the natural highlights in his hair. You can safely assume that’s why he bought them. The lenses are clear, but you know they don’t hold any prescription. He looks incredulously at you from behind them still.

“Nice glasses,” you mention offhandedly as you reach out to the coffee table to grab the drink you had left there earlier.

Before Harry had arrived, you had been taking up residence on the couch, in the spot he had actually taken up. You had ventured to the restroom for a moment and gotten held up in a conversation when asked your preference for the Beatles. Having to defend your staunch stance for the Beatles and against the Rolling Stones, you had gotten swept up into an argument with Adam. He believed that because the Rolling Stones toured for longer warranted them the title of best rock band. While you countered that despite their long touring and production of music, the Stones had a rotation of members. The Beatles maintained the four of them and held such a large impact even though they were barely together for a decade. They were one of a kind, or at least the first of their kind, you’d allow. You weren’t really in the mood for intellectual conversation tonight, so upon seeing Harry taking up your seat, you had told Adam you’d continue the discussion at a later date and returned to your spot.

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as his gaze flits around the room. He wasn’t sure if you were actually complimenting him, but he would take it as one either way.

The rest of your friends are all up and about, drinking, talking, dancing. It was the usual house party scene: a relatively intimate gathering, music you all actually liked, some friends of friends feeling slightly out of place. There was no pressure in this type of gathering but still Harry wasn’t necessarily in the party mood tonight. Usually, Harry was the one instigating these types of get-togethers with his friends and bandmates. He liked to be the life of the party, but as the tour loomed closer and closer, he felt some tinge of longing for quiet and solitude. He knew he wouldn’t have much quiet while on the road, which mostly didn’t scare him. He loved the stage and the high he received from performing and the gratification he felt from all the people in the room being there to see him. But there was also that other part of him that liked the quiet, the privacy. As the lack of alone time nudged itself around the corner, he had been hoping to enjoy solitude, or at the very least peace before he was on the road. Some sort of blissful state before technical chaos ensued. When Charlotte, the host of tonight’s soiree, had texted their group chat about tonight, Harry had politely declined. Then came the slew of private texts from Charlotte giving him all the reasons he should come tonight. He tried to say no again, but had shown up after the continued begging from her.

His appearance mirrored his expression, choosing a not perfectly fitted white t-shirt and random trousers rather than picking something he really loved, like usual. You could tell something was up and as his friend you were wondering what was wrong with him.

“Don’t sound so excited, Harry, someone might mistake you for somebody who’s happy to be here.” You stick your tongue into the side of your cheek, gauging his reaction.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not very funny?” He quips, green eyes flashing to meet yours.

Your banter is probably how the pair of you communicated the best, never really falling into the whole serious side of friendship. You never shared those late night talks about the future or your fears. It was a fun friendship, so you didn’t fancy yourself one of his closest confidants. When it came to music, you and Harry were a bit more serious which formed a sort of paradox because the music you would share with each other gave a far greater insight into your souls than you probably realized. As a member of his band, you would discuss his music and what was going on with that sort of business part. But the sharing and discussion of other music that you did was part of your friendship, even if you didn’t see it like that. Because of the countless albums you had recommended to each other and the specific songs you had made note of, Harry and you knew each other much better than you thought you did. Music connects to something deep inside yourself and you have to like it enough and know the other person well enough to believe that they will also enjoy it to recommend it. As much tongue and cheek that you partook in with Harry, deep down, unbeknownst to either of you, you were that friend he shared his hopes and fears with, through the way he knew best, music.

“No, most people find me hilarious...”

You take a sip of your drink, trying to cover up the sting that his remark actually left. Most of the time you were great at keeping up with anyone’s banter, especially Harry’s, but tonight you weren’t feeling it. His tone had sounded so harsh it almost sounded like he meant it. His features soften when he sees the way your face falls, despite your sarcastic tone.

“‘M sorry. I’m just not in the best mood tonight. Didn’t want to come, but Charlotte…” He shifts to face you, arm retracting slightly around the couch, landing his hand at the edge of your shoulder. His fingers fiddle with themselves absentmindedly, he turns his rings around his fingers and they ever so slightly brush against your shoulder. You don’t mind, you know its his nervous tick that he did whenever he didn’t have something to clink them against.

“Yeah, same here, actually.” Your tuck an out of place hair behind your ear, returning your gaze to Harry, who’s tilting his head at you curiously. “But might as well make the most of it, though. After all, this is our last week before tour starts.” You raise your glass and tilt it towards him before taking a sip.

You really didn’t have a plan, you were just trying to make him feel a little better. It was seldom you saw him so solemn at this type of gathering. He usually was the one bouncing from group to group, entertaining everyone with his dazzling charm and quick wit. Sometimes he would bring a date and spend the night with them in the corner, but that was usually at bigger parties than this. At these types of gatherings you often found yourself talking with Charlotte for most of the night. You were both new additions in the band and you had clicked immediately. You would travel in a pair between different groups and talk with everyone. Sometimes you would tell a humorous anecdote about your life and everyone would laugh wholeheartedly. Your ability to retell a story and make it hilarious every time seemed to be your secret talent. You could make any experience into a ten-minute retelling and it always sounds like the funniest moment of your life. It ranged from your embarrassing audition for Grease as a tween to your supermarket run in with an old acquaintance or B-list celebrity the day before. It didn’t matter what it was, it just always had the entire circle of people laughing and wiping their eyes with joy. You’d laugh a little with themselves, but usually you just had a triumphant smile on your lips for the rest of the night.

He nods, sipping his own drink for the first time since you had settled down beside him. “Well, I’m all ears.”

“What?”

“Give me your suggestions on how to make the most of tonight.”

“Drinking, mostly, was my plan,” you laugh nervously as Harry continues to stare at you intently.

“Mostly?”

“I mean, what do you want me to say? I didn’t think to pack my bouncy castle, my bad.”

He bites back a laugh but lets some air escape his defined nose, before staring with a deadpan face at you.

You like to tease him. You simply liked him. Harry was different from other men you knew. You were pretty sure most people could say that though. Harry was just different. It seemed like no one could not have some sort of affection for him. With the playful friendship the pair of you had, you always skirted the edge of flirtation. But you also didn’t particularly ever want to cross any lines with him. He was the employer of you, technically. He had brought you into his backing band and you wouldn’t do anything to harm that position. As well, at the end of the day you knew Harry. His tendencies and the choices he made.

When you were around him at parties like this, you had to try really hard to keep him at an arm’s length. Because on one hand, you would drink and suddenly the boundaries you put up didn’t seem that important, instead his lips started to look rather inviting, but on the other, you knew that he was extremely emotionally closed off to any relationship that was more than either friendship or a one night stand.

Harry doesn’t give you a response, just swings back his drink. The pair of you sit and drink in silence. Before you know it, Harry and you are five drinks in, finally talking after the second. The pair of you decide to move to the balcony outside and continue your conversation there after the third. After the fourth, you're getting really handsy and by the end of the fifth, Harry’s arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and you're laughing breathlessly into his neck. It looks like he’s just shielding you from the cold night air, but both of you seemed to be enjoying each other’s embrace for other reasons.

Finally catching your breath, you lean back and pant softly as you meet eyes with Harry. His pupils have blown out from the alcohol and dark light. The emerald green barely surrounds the black and you swear there’s flecks of gold or maybe brown in them. Your brows scrunch at the revelation and Harry asks what you’re thinking. You don’t respond, too entranced and drunk to even hear him.

“Oi,” he bops your nose, “What is goin’ on in there, little lady?”

Your hand reaches up and widens Harry’s eye manually. His inebriated state has no qualms about you doing such an odd thing. “Why’s your green not actually green?”

“What?” He asks before moving your hand away from his face, it instead falls to his chest. The pair of you shift until your caged between his body and the balcony’s ledge. You pout as you stare up at him. His skin looks soft and taught over every inch of his face and neck. The urge to kiss him keeps nagging at the back of your mind. The idea keeps creeping up closer and closer and the drunker you are the less likely you are to suppress it.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You blurt out.

“Sure.” Harry isn’t taken aback. He had been thinking about asking for a while, so he was glad you had asked first, made it easier for him.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He takes you back to your place, the pair of you catching a cab the short distance between yours and Charlotte’s flats. No one blinks an eye at the pair of you leaving together. Everyone watched the pair of you sulk all night about being there and only enjoying the other’s company, so they weren’t keen on either of you staying. Charlotte was simply glad the pair of you had stayed for as long as you did.

The two of you walk casually until you’re inside your bedroom. Once inside, Harry throws you on the bed and fucks you. Hard. He’s got you spread out in more ways than you had ever thought possible. He’s got you saying things you had never even dreamed of saying. And he’s got you cumming and screaming more than you could have ever wanted. He enjoys himself as well. He loves the way you feel around him and the way your eyes look up at him while he fucks you straight into the bed. He loves the way you sound whispering dirty things and screaming his name. He loves the feel of your soft skin all over your body as he pushes deep inside you. He loves the way you’re able to rip a guttural moan from him every time he cums. And he cums three times that night. While it wasn’t quiet, he did find that blissful state he had been in desperate need of.

After the third round, Harry feels spent. He brings himself into a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of your bed. You’re lying in your bed, completely overstimulated, cumming at least twice as many times as Harry. He scratches at the top of his head, his bicep bulging as he folds his arms around himself.

“That was fucking good, Y/N. Just what I needed.”

You can only hum in response.

Then he takes your blanket and lays it over you. After that he begins to stand up, getting ready to grab his things and go.

“You don’t have to go…” your voice raises when you realize what he’s doing.

“Yeah, I do. This was just a one time thing, yeah? I enjoyed it, but you know...”

“Erm, I guess?” You rolled to fully look at him, he was pulling his t-shirt back on now, his marked chest disappearing beneath the white fabric. “Do you really not stay over at your one night stands?”

He thinks about it as he begins with his shoes and his glasses at the same time. “Yes? Usually I don’t know the person and I don’t particularly want to sign an autograph when I leave in the morning. Best to leave immediately afterwards.”

“That was exactly why I wanted you to stay...Shit! No chance you’ll give me an autograph now? Could sign my tit, right next to your hickies.”

He laughs, automatically in a better mood after the catharsis of having sex. It was also a relief for him that you didn’t seem to be weird about the hook up. “Shut up!”

“You’re a twat, Harold.” He groans instinctively at the annoying nickname, not caring about the ‘twat’ part. “But be my guest, you can freeze your arse off while waiting for your cab outside at this hour.”

“Rude..” He mutters, standing in your doorway now. “You wouldn’t actually make your employer stand out in the cold at this time of night. I haven’t even got a jumper. Could get a cold and ruin my voice. ”

“You’re the one who says it’s best to leave immediately. Get on it, mister.”

Your hand makes a shooing movement, but he doesn’t budge. You sigh as he makes a puppy dog face - eyes wide and a puckered pout with his flushed cheeks and lips - playing into your actual kindness, that he knows is somewhere. Your sweetness that you were keeping hidden from Harry right now. Nothing was serious between you so it made sense that you were trying not to let your innate ability to care show as he’s about to walk out on you.

“Ugh, fine. Stop looking at me like that. Just grab one of my coats from the bottom right, they’re all oversized so one should fit.” He doesn’t relent on the face. “And you can stay inside until your cab comes.” You sigh and throw one of your pillows at him. He catches it easily and throws it back, much softer than your throw. “Also never pull the employer card on me again when I’m naked in the bed you just fucked me in,” you call as he looks through your closet.

Returning with a patchwork coat you had thrifted tight over his shoulders, he looks at you seriously, “Yeah sorry about that part. Definitely wasn’t trying to exert my power over you, it sounded better in my head. Meant more like you could ruin my voice and both of our jobs.”

You nod and chuckle slightly, finding how inarticulate Harry could be as an endearing trait. His explanation didn’t actually make it sound better. “The jacket fits.” You say, choosing to move forward from Harry’s weirdness, knowing he didn’t mean any harm from his initial statement.

“Yeah, thanks. I think my cab is here,” He glances at his phone, “So I’ll go...See you?”

“I’m sure.” You smile, “We do in fact work together and will soon be touring the world. Would be a bit weird if I didn’t see you.”

“Right.” He nods and adds a peace sign before he walks out of your sight. You know he’s gone when you hear the door click shut. What an interesting night.

Love on Tour had just started and Harry couldn’t lie. He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. You were both his most recent partner and the best he had had in a while. He found himself rubbing over the spots on his neck and clavicle that you had given particular attention to during the night you had shared together. When he went to bed it was your body he pictured to get himself off. So, after the first show he’s beelining to you at the beginning of the after party. He’s got an adrenaline high and he needs a release. You’re the solution. He’s whispering in your ear, asking if you’d like to meet him in his dressing room. Your eyes study his face when he pulls back and they widen slightly when the realization of what he’s implying dawns on you. Then you’re nodding and excusing yourself from a random conversation five minutes later.

Inside Harry’s dressing room, you find Harry already unbuttoning his shirt. He grabs your face and shoves his lips onto yours once you lock the door. As he kisses you he tries to make one thing very clear, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Got it.” You begin to finish Harry’s job of taking off his shirt.

He pulls back to look you in the eye, “Are you okay with that?”

“Jesus fuck, yes, Harry, just shut up and fuck me senseless again!”

He listens to you and begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. His open-mouth kisses leave a searing trail across your skin. He settles on a spot at the base of your neck and begins to suck and nip at it with vigor. You set to work on finishing his job of unbuttoning his shirt. Then you pull off your own shirt, reaching behind you to untie the bows at the back. The new skin exposed grabs Harry’s attention and he moves down to suck over the cleavage of your tits. He’s happy to be back with his ‘bosom friends’. You smack his head when he says it and he chuckles darkly, only sucking harder on them causing you to moan louder than you would like.

Once you’re both in only your underwear, you find your back pressed up against the mirror behind the dressing room counter. Harry’s body is nestled between your spread legs as he kisses down your skin. His fingers dance along the line of your thong as he looks up from beneath his lashes for position, you only push his head closer to your heat in response. He laughs mischievously before tugging them down off your hips.

“Missed this pretty little cunt...All I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout,” He mutters as he begins to latch onto your dripping core.

Your brows shoot up at the thought that Harry’s mind has been stuck on you for the past week. You definitely had thought about your drunken hook up a bit, but hadn’t thought it had left a lasting impression on Harry, you assumed he had that lovely of a night with every person he chose to spend intimate time with. These thoughts are forgotten when Harry’s warm tongue is lapping at your swollen bud. You’re already panting for Harry and now you’re heaving with moans and whimpers leaving your mouth with every lick and nip of his expert mouth.

“Fuck Harry, feels so good,” you whine as his tongue travels down your folds and swirls and dips into your hole.

He moans at your words and the way your legs squeeze at his head. His hands move to spread you open wide to maintain his control and he smirks at the way your body rolls due to the friction of his voice against your pussy.

“Be a good girl f’me,” he growls still pressed against your wet heat.

Your body rolls again as you get closer and closer to your first release. Your bite your lip trying to contain all of the sounds that are trying to escape your mouth. Harry notices the new silence and glances up seeing how you’re trying to behave. As much as he likes you obeying his words, he also wanted to hear how he was pleasuring you.

“Tell me how you feel, princess,” he demands.

“So-so good,” you hiccup as his fingers caress over your folds now as he looks you in the eyes, his lips wet with your slick. He kisses you hard, his tongue diving into your mouth and you kiss back passionately, loving your taste on his tongue.

He pulls back and your hands trail down his chest, swirling around his familiar tattoos and hair that grace his lower torso as you move. He grins, enjoying the feeling of you on him and how he was affecting you.

Soon enough, his cock is finding its way back to your glistening folds, wet with your own liquids as well as his saliva. His mouth waters at the sight. He only pushes into you a few times like this. Then he catches sight of himself in the mirror in front of him and can’t resist. He pulls out and flips you over, your squeal leaving your mouth before you can stop yourself. His dick finds your entrance once again, not wanting to be without the wonderful warmth for any longer than he must.

“Ahhh,” Harry groans when he slips back inside.

Your head throws back on your neck, the feeling of him as well as the sight of him gripping your hair in one hand and your fleshy hip in the other. His rings dig into the skin as he’s able to slam more forcefully in this position. You gasp and whine at his motions. The sounds coming from between your legs are turning you on even more and they seem to make Harry happy too. He picks up the pace and drops the grasp of your hair for a second. Your head falls down as you try to keep yourself up on your elbows.

Gripping both of your hips, Harry growls, “Look at me while I fuck you. C’mon now.”

You moan in response and tear your eyes open to see your reflections in the mirror. One hand goes up to hold onto the mirror to give yourself more traction, causing your back to arch even more. The new position has Harry’s cock slamming into you deeper.

“Fuck!” Harry practically yells and can’t keep himself from landing a harsh slap on your ass. You jump forward at the sting but his other hand keeps the pace steady. He keeps burying himself into you all the way to his base, his balls slapping at your now slick spread thighs. He rubs over the red handprint he had just left on your ass. You whimper and bite your lip, truly enjoying the sensation.

Still staring into the mirror as Harry commanded, your eyes water slightly and Harry makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You smile widely and he grins back. “This feels so fucking good. Your pussy takes me so well. Fuck…” Harry babbles, still pistoning into you. You had noticed how vocal he was the first time you had fucked, but thought it had just been the alcohol. Apparently not. But you didn’t mind, you much preferred it to partners who barely spoke or didn’t even moan. Like how were you supposed to know what was going on in their minds? With Harry, you knew he was having a good time.

A few more heavy thrusts and you felt yourself nearing the edge. Your panting was getting faster, exceeding the speed of Harry’s thrusts and he could also feel you were close. Your cunt began squeezing him tighter so he hooked a hand under your knee and brought it onto the table. He hunched over you slightly and snaked his hand to your clit. “C’mon darling, I know you're close. Can feel that little cunt putting a choke hold on my cock.” He rubs at your clit with the vigor of strumming a quick paced song on the guitar. It’s enough to overtake your senses and the laugh that had bubbled from his words turns into your orgasm moan. You try to muffle it into the arm that is holding you against the mirror to avoid a full on scream because it feels that good. You felt like you were having your first ever orgasm, it felt that new to you.

A few more thrusts and you’ve come down from it, but Harry still hasn’t finished. It’s your turn to be the partner coaxing the other to get off. “Faster, Har. Want you to cum too.” He grunts, picking back up the pace. He had slowed to let you ride out your stay. “That’s it...want you to cum in me. Your cock feels so fucking good.” You whine, meaning every word. He smiles again at you and closes his eyes, focusing on chasing his high. You watch as his smile widens to that open mouth grin, “Fuck,” he almost whispers. And there it is. There’s a twitch in his hips that mirrors his expression and then he’s pulling out and cumming on your back. His voice is now even lower and raspier than before as he babbles how good that was and how tight your pussy was. It was sweet nothings, but extremely explicit and you sighed heavily, feeling a small orgasm wash over you again. His final thrusts and voice pushing you off the cliff again easily.

The two of you take a minute to bring your breathing back to normal and Harry goes to clean your back off.

“So..how do you feel about maybe doing this regularly?” Harry asks sheepishly as he begins to pull his pants back on.

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing? Or bandmates with benefits, rather.” You laugh breathlessly at your not really funny joke, but you’re now truly exhausted. From the show and the fuck, you felt thouroughly worked out.

“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“You’re honestly so chill, Y/N. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

You laugh and flip your hair dramatically. You’re only in your bra and panties right now and Harry licks his lips, finding your playfulness to be a turn on. “What can I say?” You laugh.

“But like I said before...it’s just sex.” He’s buttoning up his shirt and looking at your reflection through the mirror now. He watches you slip the pants you had been wearing back on.

“Oh, Harold, I know.” On cue, he groans and turns around to face you after fixing his mused hair in the mirror. Interrupting yourself, you turn your back to Harry, “Can you tie this, sorry it’s hard for me to get the -” Harry walks to you without any hesitation and begins tying the silk ribbons on the back of your shirt. “Thanks. Anyway,” you turn to face him when he’s finished and you place both of your palms on his chest. “Trust me, I know you’ve got your issues and I’m not looking to be the girl that tries to change you. I know what this is. I only ask that you let me know when you sleep with other people, because once you do, you won’t need me.” Harry nods and you pat your hands against him. You both smile and go your separate ways when you leave the dressing room.

Harry and you fucked almost every night on tour. Sometimes it was right after, on the counter in his dressing rooms. Sometimes it was later in the evening in his hotel room or yours. He stopped leaving immediately after your hook ups. He never kicked you out of his room so he decided it was fine for him to stay in yours. Especially because you weren’t a stranger who would be weird with him in the morning. He also didn’t like trekking through the hotel halls late at night.

The first few times you stayed in the same bed, the two of you stayed on opposite sides of the bed, not touching after you were finished engaging in your sexual endeavours. Rigid bodies against the edges of the mattress. Then one particularly long night, filled with multiple rounds, Harry was so exhausted from his performance on stage and off that he collapsed on top of you. He fell asleep there and you didn’t particularly mind. It felt nice to be slightly compressed and held. He shifted in his sleep and when he woke up he wasn’t upset to find you nestled into his side with his arms wrapped around you. After that, cuddling sort of became part of the routine. After you were done having sex, Harry or you would get up to clean up and bring back waters. Then you would settle in his arms. Sometimes in a spooning position and sometimes you cradled softly into his chest. You didn’t talk about it, it just happened.

One night it was your head directly on top of his butterfly tattoo, one leg thrown over his lower torso and your arm snuggly wrapped around his middle. He liked to pet your hair when you laid against his chest in that way. His fingers would fiddle with the strands and you liked it because he usually took off his rings before he would do it and his hands felt so soft and delicate against you. Harry liked the way he felt when he would hold you afterwards. It was calming to fall asleep against your soft skin and feel your fingertips trace lyrics to songs he wasn’t sure the name of against his own.

No one knew about how your friendship with Harry worked. To the rest of the world, you seemed to be someone who had become another close friend in the band. You were similar to Mitch in many respects. Except for when Harry winked at you during a show, it wasn’t a friendly wink, it was a ‘this song makes me horny and I can’t wait to relieve the pressure by fucking you later’ kind of wink. You knew this because Harry had gone over and whispered it in your ear during a quick break, when you had only looked at him weirdly after he did it.

Before the show tonight, you pulled Harry aside, “So what are we thinking tonight? I feel like I might want to ride you...Haven’t been on top in a while.” In the darkness of the backstage, you crane your neck to take Harry’s earlobe between your teeth. He groans softly and grips your hips to guide them against his for a second. “Sounds fuckin’ fantastic, love.” You twitch back, releasing him immediately at the word. You always told him not to call you that and he tried to reason with you, that it was just something he called people. But you disliked it a lot, adding it to the growing list of rules the pair of you had for the do’s and don'ts of being friends with benefits with each other.

“Harold,” you groan and he steps back at that pet name. While he hated this, you refused to let him put it on the list because it didn’t cross any lines with your physical arrangement. Not that there was any physical list to put it on, it was more of a theoretical list that the two of you would speak of occasionally.

“Sorry.” He says eventually, “Didn’t mean it.” You both laugh.

You think about how other relationships were sometimes desperate to hear their partner express their love for them and you believe you’re grateful for the simplicity of your arrangement. The term relationship regarding what you and Harry were doing was also in the ‘don’t’ category on the list. If either of you were being honest, there should be no need for a list and you should be questioning yourselves why you felt the need to set boundaries if one part of it was physical and the other part was your friendship and job. If it truly was just physical why were boundaries constantly needing to be set and followed? But right now honesty was not in the cards.

After the show Harry gets delayed with press or fans or something that you don’t really care about. You barely read the text that he sends, only caring about the ‘sorry got held up’ and the ‘be there in thirty’.

You let yourself into his room and wait on the bed, flipping through your phone, completely unbothered by the rest of the world. When you hear a knock on the door, you don’t think twice about getting up and opening the door. You only realize your terrible mistake when it’s Mitch and not Harry standing at what you’re also just realizing isn’t your door, but instead Harry’s.

“Shit!” you say under your breath as Mitch looks at you confused.

The room is dark behind you because Harry would have just entered and gotten down to business. He might turn on a side lamp, but you hadn’t felt the need to have light on while you waited. Forgetting all of that, you had just gone to the door and opened it.

Mitch tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he stares at you. “Is Harry here?”

“Er..No?” It comes out as a question. You rub the back of your ankle with your foot, feeling nervous.

“Is he actually not here or?” Mitch trails off, narrowing his eyes at you.

“No, no he’s really not here. I’m waiting for him, too.” You rush your words, but try to remain calm.

“You have a key to his room. And you’re waiting in the dark.” He says. They’re not questions and you’re not sure just how guilty you look.

“Yeah!” You try to come up with a non suspicious response, hoping there’s a way to still salvage your’s and Harry’s secret, “He gave me his key because he wanted to talk about something and I kept it dark because my eyes always hurt after shows. Kind of like a migraine.” You scratch at your head and smile, trying to convince Mitch. He seems to believe you as he nods slowly and opens his eyes more.

There’s a little bit of an awkward silence and Mitch shifts his weight between his feet, looking at you still. Just as you're about to invite Mitch to come wait inside with you, Harry steps out of the elevator and begins to walk down the hall. His key card is already in hand and your eyes widen. Harry’s expression mirrors yours when he realizes Mitch is standing outside of his door and that you are standing with him. “Mitch!” Harry says, placing his hand on Mitch’s shoulder and sliding his key card into his back pocket with the other. Mitch turns to Harry without seeing him put away the other key card and you look at the pair of them.

“I was just telling Mitch how you gave me your key card so we could talk about...that thing.” You interject, flicking the lights on in Harry’s room as casually as possible. Harry shoots you a look about how you couldn’t come up with an actual reason for being there. You shrug your shoulders helplessly.

Mitch looks between the two of you and feels some weird tension and he’s not sure if it's always there and he’s just noticing or if something is going on right now.

“Yeah, well, I came to stop by to talk about the riff in Canyon Moon. Something is wonky with it.”

“Oh! Sure,” Harry nods to Mitch and then glances at you, “Y/N, we can talk about that other thing later. It’s not that important anyway.” His tone is so casual and nonchalant. You stare at him, thinking he can’t be serious. You had been almost sure he would send Mitch away, but instead you were being kicked to the curb. When he doesn’t say sike or anything of the sort, you nod. “Okay,” then you mumble a ‘good luck’ with figuring out the problem with the song. Mitch walks in the door, but Harry’s eyes stay fixed on your figure retreating down the hallway. He watches you disappear and is only pulled from his thoughts when Mitch calls his name from the couch in the room.

After reaching your floor, you key into your room and get ready for bed. Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, completely alone for once in a long time, there’s another knock. This time you check the peephole, a habit you realized you were going to have to get better at. It’s Harry. You open the door and walk away immediately once he’s entered the room.

“Why are you here?”

“Thought we could still...” He follows you into the room, trying to make out your face in the darkness.

“I’m not in the mood anymore.” Your tone gives away your annoyance. You couldn’t hide that you were mad at Harry for sending you away. It made you feel weird. The way he did it so easily made you feel like you were extremely disposable and unwanted.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he lays down beside you. You turn to face him when he places a hand on the small of your back. You’re face to face and your noses are almost brushing. It’s not really possible to see each other’s features, but after months of hooking up you knew each other’s faces pretty well. You could reach out and pinpoint all of Harry’s freckles and moles on his face and neck right now and be correct. He could likely do the same. The theory is proven correct when he reaches out and his hand dances down your cheek. “Just thought it would be less suspicious if I didn’t get rid of him. Couldn’t make him wait either…”

“I know,” your voice is small and soft, just above a whisper, “I forgive you.” You scoot closer to him and Harry instinctively wraps his arm around you, bringing you tightly into him. You sigh into his neck and he shivers at your warm breath on his slightly clammy skin. When you lick your lips, they brush lightly against his skin. He laughs at the feeling, so you decide to press an intentional kiss to the hollow in his neck. In response, he presses a kiss to your hairline, his lips slightly chapped after the concert.

The kisses are tender, filled with that thing neither of you dare attribute to anything the two of you did in the dark. The word you told him time and time again to not call you. So is just about every touch and word that has been exchanged in this room since Harry entered it. You fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, a soft smile resting on both of your faces. Neither of you seem to mind that you didn’t actually have sex tonight or anything even close to it.

When you wake up you feel especially well rested. You shift around and realize your bed is empty besides you. It depended on the day, but it was always a toss up between Harry being there when you woke up or not. However, lately, you had found it was usually the former. You would linger longer and so would Harry in each other’s rooms, lounging in each other’s embrace under the soft glow of the morning light peaking through whatever windows the room had. Today you were cold at his absence. Then you look up and realize you aren’t completely alone. Harry is standing at the end of your bed, staring down at his phone, smiling.

“Hey.”

You wait for his reply, but he doesn’t look up from his phone. “Hey, Harold,” you repeat. His head snaps up, a grimace on his face at the name. He slips his phone in his pocket and ruffles his hair. “Hey.” He finally responds. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you seem to find it necessary to talk about what happened last night. Harry definitely seemed a little off to you this morning, but you try to shake it from your thoughts. There was no reason to be upset with him being quiet. He didn’t owe you anything, you hadn’t even slept together last night, so if anything it was weird he stayed as long as he did.

It was the second night at the Forum in Los Angeles. This means no travelling necessary. No day off either, tomorrow you’d have a day off before the third and final show at the venue though.

Harry and you were talking normally at the venue, mostly about the setlist - him and Mitch had changed something for whatever reason last night, which was fine. Your banter was to a minimum, but you were trying to convince yourself that nothing was off. Even though it felt like something was different, you couldn’t place your finger on what it was, so you thought it was best to ignore it.

When Harry is about to go out on stage, you don’t pull him aside and when he introduces the members of the band to the audience, he doesn’t say anything fun or silly about you. He doesn’t wink or come up to you at any point in the performance. It’s so unusual the rest of your bandmates are giving you funny looks. Charlotte looks at you from across your keyboard in a way that she’s asking if you’re okay. You shake your head at everyone trying to signal that you’re fine.

Mitch goes over to Harry and whispers in his ear to check in with him, Harry looks at him with a bright smile on his face and says “of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Mitch looks between the pair of you, thinking back to last night and how weird the pair of you were being then. Maybe it dawns on him then what might be going on between the two of you, but if he did, he wouldn’t mention it for a long time.

You falter a bit on your back up vocals tonight. You’re trying to give it your all, like always, but for some reason your voice isn’t sounding the way you want it. About halfway through the show, when your voice comes out the exact opposite of how you would like, Harry finally gives you a second glance. His face practically emotionless, save for the single arched brow. He’s concerned, but not concerned enough where he would go over to you. He just doesn’t understand why you keep missing the right note tonight. You make a shake of your hand to say I don’t know either. He just shrugs and turns back around to continue the show, his lively smile returning while he turns his head.

After the show, Charlotte, Sarah, and you are all checking in, going over what had happened during the show in general. They’re both worried about your voice and you’re simply trying to tell them that it was just an off night. Nothing was wrong. As long as you told everyone else that, then it might turn out to be true.

“It’s fine, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” you fib, having gotten more sleep last night than most other nights on this tour. They both nod, seeming to take that as a reasonable answer.

Then Charlotte gets quieter as she whispers to the three of you, “Did you guys notice anything weird with Harry? He was super lively, but he barely interacted with you, Y/N, which is so unlike him...”

Sarah nods while you look skeptically on. Sarah adds, “He kept looking up to the boxes, too. More than usual at least. I don’t know though…” She trails off and you cross your arms over your chest, not really enjoying the conversation topic. “I mean, what do you think, Y/N?” Sarah adds.

Your eyes dance between the two women, your fellow bandmates, your friends. You sometimes wished you could share with them what you were doing with Harry. The secret was fun, but it’s also nice to be able to share with your girlfriends about the guy you’re seeing, even if it is a casual thing. The friendly gossip of it all is something fun to share, but sadly that was another thing you couldn’t do. You sigh, “You never really know what’s going on in his mind, y’know. He’s just Harry.” Your response is half-assed at best. You figure they’ll both give you shit for the non-answer you just supplied, but instead someone else speaks for them.

“I am in fact, just Harry.” He says and you swivel around to find yourself almost chest to chest with him. Charlotte laughs while Sarah simply smiles. Your eyes are huge as you stare up at him and you hope your blush doesn’t come out too strongly after being caught talking about Harry by himself. “Enlighten me on when I was being ‘just Harry’ though?” You bite your lip and take a step back from him, forming more of a line with the other women. He shrugs when no one offers a response, laughing lightly.

“Oh and Y/N, I can’t talk about that thing again tonight, I’ve got-”

“A date?” Charlotte asks, trying to understand why Harry was acting a little different tonight still. The part that Sarah had mentioned about him looking up into the boxes had given her the idea that he might have plans with someone after the show. Harry scratches his head, his hair slightly wet with sweat right after the show. He’s taken off his coat so he’s just in the almost completely unbuttoned, sweat soaked shirt he had been wearing underneath. It sticks tight to his skin and you can make out all the muscle lines that hide beneath the fabric that you usually get to caress. Your eyes flit from his body back to his face when he speaks again.

“Erm, I wasn’t going to phrase it like that...but yes, I suppose, it’s a date.” He says finally, he avoids your eye contact and you look at him very confused, trying to hide the hurt. He shoves his hands in his pockets trying to look and sound as casual as possible and ignore the strain he sees on your face. Is that what had held him up yesterday? Making plans with someone else? And he hadn’t told you until now? The past twenty four hours stung a little bit more now that you knew why Harry was being so distant. It simply felt icky finding out this way and it didn’t even seem like he was going to tell you it was a date.

“Okay,” you say simply and walk away. You hear Charlotte asking him details about his date, but you try actively not to hear any of it. Sarah watches you walk away and sees the way you wrap your arms around yourself to comfort you. She feels a twinge of sadness as she watches the scene unfold, seeing something she hadn’t realized was there before.

Harry doesn’t text or call you that night. You hang out with everyone else for a little while in Charlotte’s room before heading to bed, saying you think you need an early night tonight. Before you’re able to walk out of the door, Mitch stops you. “I heard Harry blew off whatever conversation the two of you have been trying to have again. Just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” You try to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. There is no conversation Harry is blowing off, it’s simply you. “It’s fine. Like he said yesterday, it’s not important.” Mitch nods, but still looks at you with concern. What he had seen last night, then on stage today, and what Sarah had told him about your interaction after the show it all strung together in his mind. It didn’t seem unimportant at all. But he didn’t know how he could tell you that. He felt like he should talk to Harry about the way you looked when you left Charlotte’s room tonight, but he didn’t know how to bring it up to him either.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you're in the elevator, and it’s slowly rising to your floor of the hotel. You’re only one level up, but it feels like an eternity in there. You already weren’t a fan of elevators, but this ride felt impossibly worse. The walls are all made up of mirrors and you see yourself in the reflection, but you don’t exactly recognize the girl in there. Your eyes are tired from the show, dark circles already formed. Your hands are aching, clenching and unclenching on their own accord. Your body is slumped against the back wall, likely leaving a slight imprint from the smoke residue and dust on your clothes. Worst of all are the tears running down your face, smudging at your makeup, the black mascara you had applied dripping down in sinister raindrops against your skin. The sad girl stares back at you as you sniffle slightly, confused at what you’re seeing. “Why are you crying?” you ask yourself, your voice creaking and then breaking at the end as you struggle to get out the word ‘crying’ before a sob wracks through you. You roll your eyes when your reflection offers no explanation for itself. You laugh at your own patheticness and try to shake the feelings you’re experiencing.

Inside your room now, you flop on the bed and stare straight up at the ceiling. Your arms spread to your sides and your legs lay limply below you. You think about every night before last, every night since the tour started. Every night where you weren’t alone, where you were with Harry. Your mind flits to last night, how Harry’s lips had ghosted over your skin after his apology. How you had told him you forgave him and it had felt so peaceful, so simple. It was all so easy. Thinking about him and the things the two of you did together brought a smile to your face, unbeknownst to you. When you realize it’s there, your face drops immediately, deciding not to think about Harry.

But trying to not think about Harry makes you only think about him more and what you think about him now most definitely doesn’t bring a smile to your face. You’re thinking about him out on his date with some person you chose to learn nothing about. Maybe out of fear of what is happening right now. By knowing nothing about the person, you can’t compare yourself to them. Can’t see what’s different about them that would make Harry go out on a date with them. But it doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like because at the end of it all you know one thing for certain. They’re not you. You correct yourself, you know two things actually, because you also know that Harry chose to be with them instead of you tonight.

You fall asleep with tear stained cheeks that night and absolutely nothing positive on your mind. You want to sleep but know it only brings whatever is bound to happen tomorrow, which doesn’t seem very promising.

It’s noon when you wake up and you wake to a knocking on your door. You grumble and throw a sweatshirt over your body to hide the underwear you slept in. Not remembering your new habit, you swing the door open without any hesitation to find Harry. He looks wide awake and happy, the way he almost always looks, a fresh beautiful flower of a man. You look at him groggily, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Because I was asleep?” You tilt your head and look at him incredulously. “What about this,” you gesture to your appearance, “looks like I just went for a 3 mile jog for fun and I love the morning?”

“Can I come in?” He ignores everything you just said and enters the room when you leave the door to get back in bed. You often did that with him, you don’t know why, but when he asked to come in the room it was just simpler to let him in then say anything. He knew what you meant.

He sits at the edge of the bed as you reclaim your spot in the middle of it, tucked slightly under the covers, but still sitting up. “How was your date?” You try to sound nonchalant and it seems to work. Harry doesn’t notice your tense figure, but you notice how he tenses up when you ask.

“Good…Her name was-” You don’t let him finish, you already know the answer to this next question and you don’t need her name in order to ask it, “Did you fuck her?”

He’s silent, green eyes staring straight at you. You meet his gaze, your eyes almost burning holes into him. His eyes are begging you to not make him answer the question, he doesn’t want this to end, even if he also didn’t want the commitment he had felt himself exhibiting the other night.

When he had come to your room the other night after Mitch had almost caught you, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed. He didn’t want you to feel bad so he had come to apologize, but when the pair of you didn’t have sex, he should have left. But he didn’t, he stayed and it wasn’t for you, it was for himself. It was for him to hold you in his arms because he liked to. But when he woke up the next morning he knew he needed to leave. Solely cuddling wasn’t part of your arrangement together. It’s probably on the list of don'ts that the pair of you had. So after he realized the line he had willingly crossed with you, he quickly sent a text to Jeff who had tried to set him up with a model they were acquaintances with the night before - the reason he had gotten held up. Harry had initially declined, not very interested in seeing anyone else but you. But looking back on that choice in the light of day seemed to solidify what this relationship was - a relationship - and Harry didn’t like that. The commitment wasn’t part of the plan, so he told Jeff to set that date up for after the second show at the Forum and give the woman a ticket. That’s why he was smiling at his phone the morning after only cuddling with you, that’s why he didn’t joke around with you during the show, and that’s why he wasn’t in your bed last night.

You watch him expectantly, silently waiting for his answer, your veins cold as ice. He finally starts his answer and he wants to make it clear that it wasn’t as good with the other woman, but he’s not sure how to work that part in. He’s not sure how to explain to you it meant nothing if your arrangement also apparently meant nothing. You barely even let him get in a sentence. “Yes, but it was just a one time-”

“Alright.”

“What?” He doesn’t understand what you mean when you nod your head and cut him off.

“I told you at the beginning, Harry. Tell me when you sleep with someone else because when you do this is over. It doesn’t matter if she’s the love of your life or a one night stand. I will not be a backup plan, so if you’re able to find other people to sleep with, you don’t need to be sleeping with me.”

He sits in silence for a moment, his jaw dropped open slightly. He’s unable to keep it shut as his mind races about what to say. “Are you mad with me?”

“No, I’m fine. This was just sex. Charlotte will be happy that I’ll be going out with her more.”

Harry’s brow furrows as you shift away from him on the bed, grabbing your phone and beginning to flick through it. You feel numb and you’d like to not think about why.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks because he does care about you, worry is written all over his face. He just can’t commit, not now.

“What would I be mad about, Harry?” You look up and your eyes widen at him, silently asking him to truthfully say why you should be so upset about this revelation. You always knew it would eventually come to an end, you just hadn’t expected so soon. You hadn’t known the last time would be the last time and it broke your heart even if you knew it shouldn’t.

He shifts to reach his hand out to touch your exposed knee. You move away from him and he sighs, looking exasperated. “I- I don’t know. It just seems like we should talk about this.”

“You didn’t even think it was necessary to tell me you were going on a date last night, so I think it’s best if we just left it at ‘it’s fine, see you around’.”

He spreads his hands out across the sheets, examining his rings and painted nails thoroughly. You’re right, he doesn’t really want to talk about this. Well, more so, he’s conflicted. He would like to talk enough that you want to continue your arrangement but he doesn’t want to talk about feelings or emotions. Even if he has those feelings and emotions, they’re just not part of the things he’d like to talk about. “But-” You set your phone down at his first word, “Were you even going to tell me you fucked someone else today if Charlotte hadn’t asked you if it was a date last night? Would you just have come to my room tonight and acted like nothing had changed?”

“I would have told you.”

“Sure.”

“I swear I would’ve. I would never break a promise to you.”

“But you would make a decision that affects the both of us without telling me until afterwards?” Your voice breaks a little and you beg yourself not to cry right now.

“I thought you said this was just sex?”

You laugh humorlessly, in disbelief, “Of course it’s not, Harry! And it hasn’t been for a long time and that’s why you got scared and went and fucked someone else.” He looks at you blankly, unsure what to say, knowing you’re right. You continue, “But I also told you at the beginning of this, that I wasn’t going to try to change you. So this is me not trying to change you.” You sigh when he still says nothing, his expression completely unreadable, even to you. “Why couldn’t you have left it at ‘it’s fine’?” You say finally, barely above a whisper.

He blinks a few times after your final question. He flexes his hand one more time and then stands up from the bed. He adjusts his clothes and stares at you. You feel helpless, but you’re still trying to look pulled together, even after your outburst. You stare back. A thousand words floating through your heads, all the things you want to say and likely never will.

“I know, I’m…” he pauses, trying to get himself to say it, but he can’t. He can’t admit that he’s completely ruined whatever messed up paradise you had created together. “I’ll see you later.”

The apology or lack there of hangs in the air as he walks silently out your door. You don’t move, you barely even blink, still staring at the spot he had just occupied. Your breath finally escapes you, a large sigh. Then some nervous laughter. It was over...just like that. But things like this, left like this are never really over.

It’s awkward for a good amount of the rest of the tour. You hang out with your bandmates more and Harry rarely ever comes out with them after the shows. He either hangs out with Mitch on his own or is going out with random people he knows on the road. You and him speak, but it’s never a lot or about anything relatively meaningful. It’s not the fun back and forth of before or the fiery heat of sneaking around. You try to be normal with him, act like his casual friend and bandmate.

He does his best to do the same, but it’s difficult for him. He doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore. He misses being with you, but can’t bring himself to fix it. He doesn’t do much to right his wrongs with you. He also doesn’t even know what he would want if he did apologize. It scared him to think about the step that came after ‘sorry’ so he saved himself the trouble and never did that part either. One night he texts you: “I’m trying, it’s just hard.” and that’s it. You don’t give him a response, he doesn’t need one. You know he’s trying and he knows you know.

Near the end of the tour, he comes out with the rest of you for drinks one night. Only Mitch is between the two of you in the booth, so you feel closer to Harry than you’ve felt in a long time. The group of you are chatting and having a good time. You somehow get onto a story from when you were still in college. You explain how you had narrowly avoided getting Chlamydia right before your Christmas break junior year. You act out the conversations you imagined would have happened at all your Christmas events if you had indeed gotten it. Your impressions of your mother, father, and sister have everyone laughing the most. Harry is shaking with laughter from your story and you smile at him in appreciation when he says, “That is the funniest story I’ve heard in a long fucking time.”

The rest of the night goes really well, for the most part. No one bickers or is short with each other. Everyone is laughing and drinks are flowing. Eventually Mitch gets up to go to the bathroom and you feel Harry slide back into the booth closer to you after letting Mitch out. Your hand had taken up residence next to your thigh, resting on the vinyl of the booth. You sense something next to it now and notice Harry’s hand is resting close beside it. He shifts his hand closer when he sees that you’re looking down at it. He’s almost touching you and you look up to his eyes, wondering if he’ll close the distance. He makes an imperceptible shake of his head, but you know what he means. As you’re about to shift your hand so that your pinky connects with his, Mitch returns and your head shoots up to his figure. You instantly remove your hand from the vinyl and shift closer to Charlotte. Harry gets up, but doesn’t sit back down once Mitch is settled. He instead walks off to get another drink, risking one last look at the table where he makes eye contact with you, but he doesn’t come back. Mitch informs everyone that Harry went back to the hotel because “he was tired” after Harry doesn’t return and Mitch gets a text. You roll your eyes, sure that you saw him slip out of the side door with a woman he found at the bar after he had gotten his drink. If that’s what ‘tired’ looked like on Harry, it was fine.

You start to speak to Harry on a more regular basis after that night out. It’s not funny or lighthearted. It’s just ‘I saw this song the other day, thought you might like to listen’. It went back and forth, it wasn’t everyday but it was something. The last text between the two of you before you began sharing songs again was his ‘I’m trying it’s just hard’ text that he had sent randomly one night. Then after one of you would listen, you would see each other at sound check and mention the song and what you thought about it. It can be noted that it was Harry who sent the first song.

For Harryween, Adam couldn’t be there. He has some family emergency the day of and doesn’t come with the rest of you to Madison Square Garden or the hotel you were staying at. Thankfully, Charlotte also plays keys and you can play bass. The band had to shift around some things on stage and make minimal changes to the setlist since you weren’t rehearsed on the covers Harry was doing. You spent the whole day running through the chords of those songs with Mitch, trying to memorize them so you didn’t mess it up during the show.

It was weird because for Harryween the setlist was switched up a little from the regular set for Love On Tour. Harry was playing the entire new album as well as half of the first album, Medicine, some of his other unreleased stuff, and about six covers, including old One Direction songs. It was going to be a long show and a challenge for you.

Before the show, Harry pulls you aside, to a dark corner backstage, and your mind flits back to the last time you had been in this type of position. The last time he had called you ‘love’, the last time you bit his earlobe - which always drove him crazy, the last time he ground his hips against yours, those and more and you had no idea that it was the last. By then you had already had sex with Harry for the last time, kissed his lips for the last time. It made your heart race to be so close to him and so alone once again. But it’s nowhere near the same as it once was. You shake the memories from your mind and look up expectantly at him.

“Have you got this?” He asks seriously, tone concerned. Of course it’s a music question, nothing more. Like it always was now.

“Yeah, of course.” His stare is unwavering and you try not to falter from it.

“I can get someone else to cover tomorrow, it was just such a short notice today. You know bass really well too, it made sense.”

“I’ve got this. Seriously, don’t worry, Harold.” You pat his chest lightly and for once Harry smiles at the sound of your nickname for him. You had stopped using it after the end of your arrangement. It never felt right to use when you were talking about music, and that was about the only time you had been talking. In this moment though, it felt right. His warm, large hands held your upper arms as you stared up into his big eyes. You missed staring into them, the shimmering emerald of his irises were constantly intriguing. You instinctively reach up to move back a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. He doesn’t shy away from your touch and continues to smile down at you.

“Y’haven’t called me that in forever.” He grins, his lips a shiny pink from the lip balm he had on.

“No, I suppose I haven’t. But where was the groan? The whole point is to annoy you.” You smile coyly. He tips his head back and laughs, releasing your arms from his grasp as he laughs wholeheartedly.

Then he does a soft groan, a playful sound, “How was that?”

“Eh. I’ll give you a four out of ten. Not enough emotion behind it.” You slide from the area the two of you have been occupying and make your way onto the stage to start dealing with the bass you would be playing. You hear Harry call out to you, “I think I deserve at least a five, maybe even a six!” You turn back for a second to look at him with an unimpressed expression and shake your head no. He laughs again and you hear him even when you walk out onto the stage. You smile to yourself as you pick up the bass.

When he introduces the band, he waits to talk about you last. “And sadly this evening Mr. Adam Prentergest, our usual fabulous bassist, was unable to attend our fancy dress party! However! Our lovely Y/N L/N is also a superb bassist and was kind enough to step into his place. - Anything to add?” He saunters across the stage to you and you laugh kindly, feeling at ease in this part of the stage even though you were usually on the opposite side and further back from the crowd. You nod at Harry and he leans his portable mic towards your lips. You wet them quickly and eye Harry before turning out to the crowd. “Just please go easy on me if the bass sounds a bit wonky. It wasn’t on the job description that I’d be playing songs I didn’t know, with a few hours notice, on not my main instrument.” You say this in a kind of list format, holding up your fingers as you tick off all the ways that this was out of your comfort zone. You scratch your head dramatically after you’re finished and the whole crowd laughs and cheers. The rest of your bandmates chuckle along and Harry nods and smiles at you.

“You’ll do great, love.” He leans into your ear and says without the microphone. Then he winks and turns to go back to the center of the stage. You press your lips together to contain your smile, both happy and concerned about the flip your stomach just did.

The show is going great. Harry is killing it with the crowd. Everything is electric. You’re entirely focussed on your bass playing, but Harry has been coming over every so often to do something fun or have you tell a joke.

“She’s truly the funniest person I know! And I know a fair amount of people I think.” Harry says as he walks over to you have you tell another joke. Mitch has been looking at you and Harry interacting all night and he’s sure that it isn’t your different position that has him coming over and talking to you so much tonight. Something has definitely changed once again. First the pair of you were always together and having fun, then it was silence and stolen glances that neither of you realized you were taking, now it was back to the beginning.

“That’s because you think puns are part of the top tier levels of comedy.” You say easily, “Here, I can guarantee Harry will love this and the rest of you will likely groan.” Then you stop and act as if you’re thinking for a little, everyone’s waiting expectantly. “Sorry, thinking...Well, I’ve got some skeleton puns I could do, they’re very humerus or y’know classic vampire ones..eh but those ones kind of suck. What do you think, Harry?” You look out at the crowd, face deadpan, as Harry laughs beside you. You roll your eyes playfully and push him back to the center of the stage. Leaning into your own mic now, you say, “I told you.” That’s when everyone laughs. Harry throws another look at you over his shoulder and laughs a little more, his smile wide and eyes bright.

A little over half way through the night, it’s time for ‘to be so lonely’. You already knew the bass chords for it before today and you were confident in yourself by now. It wasn’t as hard a song so you were happy for the little break. This song allowed you to not be looking down at the notes you had stuck to the floor in front of you. Harry’s voice comes in after Mitch’s intro and you watch the way his lips move against his mic. You laugh a little as you watch the crowd yell the first “arrogant son of a bitch” line. You used to not particularly like when people did that, but after it had ended with Harry you had started to enjoy it a bit more. Having those people yell the words you couldn’t, but truly felt about him sometimes, was cathartic. Tonight you weren’t angry with him, but you enjoyed the energy in the room when everyone said it. We’ve all got our own ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ that we want to scream at sometimes. Tonight yours wasn’t Harry for the first time in a long time. The song moves along and Harry takes the microphone off its stand, he walks towards your side of the stage. When the lyrics get to:

“I miss the shape of your lips, your wit, it’s just a trick, this is it so I’m sorry”

Harry isn’t looking at the crowd, he’s looking straight at you. You don’t understand the way he’s looking at you. Or maybe you don’t want to understand it. This song, its lyrics, explains Harry really well. You saw the relationship you had with him in the words. Maybe not precisely, but a part of it was in it. Harry had unknowingly foretold your lives with his words. You know he has trouble connecting and committing, you know his issues, and you accept them. But you knew what had happened between the two of you was far more serious than meaningless sex and you knew Harry couldn’t bring himself to be that serious. He ran off and that was fine, but the face that he couldn’t even apologize hurt you the most. But the song lays it all out for you, he’s not one to be able to apologize quickly. The fact that he looks at you and means the apology he sings in the song for you, it’s a big step, but it’s not enough. The banter, the technical apology, it was all a good start, but it’s just that - the beginning. If Harry wants to make things better with you, a lot more needs to be discussed. So when you sing backing vocals for the following chorus you mean the words for Harry completely.

“Don’t call me baby again, you got your reasons, I know that you’re trying to be friends. I know you mean it, but don’t call me baby again it’s hard for me to go home and be so lonely”

His eyes flick to you again and see your lips moving around the words as you play the bass. He sees the emotion in your face and understands what you’re saying. It’s hard for you to go to your room at night and be alone while he’s out with someone else. It’s hard for him to act like everything’s all fine and perfect, back to normal, because for you it isn’t really. He can’t call you ‘love’ and tell the world you’re funny and expect it to be enough. He can’t sing his sorry that was initially for someone else to you and expect you to accept it. And he knows it, too.

After the show everyone decides they’re exhausted and need to rest before tomorrow. You all planned to celebrate the whole day and you knew it was going to be a wicked Halloween. Knowing this, you’re surprised with the knock on your door after about an hour of being back at the hotel. You’ve given up the habit you had once hoped to cultivate and swing the door open haplessly. Truly having no idea who to expect, you are still surprised to find the man standing before you.

“Mitch.”

“We need to talk.” He stares down at you, his shoulders slumped from tiredness.

“Come in,” you usher him in when you hear the urgency of his voice. He saunters in before you and you close the door. You move to the small couch in the room and sit down. Your hands gesture for him to sit as well, but he shakes his head. He stays standing and brings a hand up to smooth his hair back on the right side. His eyes staying on the floor and flickering up to you every so often.

“What is going on with you and Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on Y/N. You’re seemingly best friends with him for a good portion of tour, then you’re barely on speaking terms for the second half, now you’re joking around again. What is going on?”

You sit there in a stunned silence, “I don’t know what to say.” Your arms go to hug your body, feeling anxious about being confronted about this topic.

“Were you seeing each other?” His voice is soft, eyes taking in your body language and knowing it’s a difficult topic.

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

He holds back the ‘I knew it’ statement because of how sullen you look, b..ut in his mind all of the pieces he had watched unfold came to fit in a perfect puzzle. He decides to sit beside you when you don’t say anything else.

“We were having sex,” it felt weird to say it out loud, no one but you and Harry had actually known, “But it ended. I don’t know what today was...but it felt different than how it’s been.”

“Why are you so sad if it was just sex?” He places a hand on your shoulder and your tear-filled eyes meet his. “Oh…” He knows why.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You sob at his apology because he’s not the one who should be at your door apologizing. You sniffle and lean your head into his chest. He takes you into his arms and holds you as your cries become muffled sounds in his shirt.

You cry without words for a few minutes, Mitch coos some soothing words, his voice soft and kind. He was always a good shoulder to cry on for all of your bandmates, he was extremely strong and you made a mental note to thank him thoroughly when you actually were capable of forming coherent thoughts. “I’ve never told anyone before. It feels so weird even saying it out loud,” you say as you pull back from Mitch’s embrace. You're thankful his shirt is black, no tear stains can be made out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently, gauging your reaction. You wipe at your eyes and nod.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to start from the beginning. “Do you remember the party Charlotte had a week before we left for tour?”

Mitch nods and his eyes widen at what you’re saying as he remembers the night. “It started back then?” He’s unable to contain his incredulous question. He had suspected something, but hadn’t thought it had been going on for that long. He was truly astounded. You nod, “Well sort of,” then you go on to recount the last couple of months. All the way up until the Forum shows. “That night, when I opened Harry’s door and it was you standing there...Harry and I didn’t have anything to discuss. It was just…” Mitch nods again. He hadn’t spoken much since you had gotten into the story, wanting to let you be in charge of what you were saying and believing he could probably ask questions at the end. “Then the next night he blew me off for his date with that model and I cried in the elevator because I knew what was going to happen next.”

“So that’s when it ended?” Mitch asks when you don’t speak for a rather extended period of time.

“Yeah, the next morning he came over and I asked if they had sex and he said yes so I told him it was over.”

“But I don’t get why he went out with that model. He had told me she wasn’t his type the night before…” Your eyes shot up and looked at Mitch. His eyes widened when he realized what he said.

“What?”

“When we were talking about Canyon Moon, he mentioned that Jeff had tried to set him up with some woman but he had declined. Said he wasn’t interested. I don’t get what changed between then and the next morning.” He figured it was best to put all the cards out on the table right now. You’d be going your separate ways for a while, now that the tour was over and he had seen how unhappy both you and Harry had been over the last part of the tour.

You shift your leg to have it folded beneath you as you continue to stare at Mitch. “He came over after you and him had your meeting,” you say quietly. Mitch hums, waiting for you to continue this time.

“He apologized for choosing you over me to talk to. Then we slept together, but we didn’t have sex...I think that’s what wigged him. It had felt too real, sleeping in the same bed with me without having sex beforehand made it feel like something more than just two people fulfilling needs.” Mitch nods and sighs heavily. He looks around the room and then back to you, taking in your full appearance. Again he feels terrible for you, how he had felt the second night at the Forum even though he hadn’t known the full story yet. “Now we’re here.”

“Tonight, it felt like he was trying,” Mitch finally said and you smiled sweetly, thinking back to Harry’s behavior. No matter how far from him you were, all those good feelings you associated with him never went away.

“Yeah, it’s been getting better. He texted me once saying he was trying. Then he came out with us one night and it almost seemed like that would be the night he’d apologize, but then he didn’t. Then we started sharing music with each other again. Then tonight… was tonight. It’s just confusing. He’s confusing.”

Mitch smiles sadly and brings you in for another hug and you’re actually so thankful he

showed up at your door. It was your first time telling anyone all of this, because Harry didn’t even know how you felt about some of these things. It felt amazing to be heard and to be told it was okay to be feeling like this.

Pulling back, Mitch says, “He’s definitely different. But his differences are what make him special and that’s why I think he clings to them even if they sometimes can hurt other people. The fact that he’s trying is a good sign. I hope he can find it in himself to make it right between you two because I had never seen either of you happier than when you were apparently together. Especially those few weeks leading up to Los Angeles. Sarah had kept asking me why Harry was so smiley back then. When I had asked him, he had just said “have you ever found something and realized you wanted to keep it with you forever?” I had no idea what he had meant, but I feel like he meant you now.”

Your awestruck at what Mitch has just told you. He was right about the first part about Harry trying to change, but the last bit, that’s what had left you speechless. You turn your body to face the rest of the room and put your chin against your hand as you think.

“Mitch...I have to go.”

He understands what you mean and you walk out of the door with him. He walks down the hall to his room and you walk quickly past the elevator and opt for the stairs. Before you know it you’re running up the stairs, taking two at a time even though you’re not the most athletically inclined. You can’t stand to wait for the elevator and your mind is racing.

You knock on the door that is Harry’s after reaching his floor. It swings open and reveals a confused and sleepy Harry. Thankfully he’s still fully dressed because that would have been a whole other problem you would have if he hadn’t been. You push past him and walk straight into his room without any invitation. He follows behind you, still unsure of why you’ve come here.

“Have you ever found something and realized you want to keep it forever?” You ask him, repeating the words Mitch had just told you.

“Pardon?”

“You told Mitch that about me before we ended things. If that’s how you felt, why didn’t you do what you said?”

Harry sighs as the words register in his mind. The memory of when he had smiled at Mitch so giddily and asked the vague question, his thoughts only of you as he asked it. The shit-eating grin he had plastered on his face after Mitch had looked at him confusedly flitted across his mind. As well as the way he had gone to his dressing room and had a quickie with you after that conversation.

“It’s not that simple…”

“It is, Harry! Why can’t you just be honest with me for once?”

“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest?” you nod at his harsh tone. The two of you standing only a few feet apart. “You have no goddamn idea what you do to me, when I’m around you, I have no control of my emotions or of my thoughts. I pushed you away because I didn’t like feeling out of control. I got out because what had started as a fun time had turned into me longing to be with you every waking hour. I found myself not caring what we did as long as I got to hold you and be around you, but that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Plans can change, Harry.”

You step closer to him and he meets your eyes. He had left his music playing softly on his phone before he had opened the door so now as the two of you stared at each other, he must have been playing his Etta James playlist because her voice faded out of the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” and straight into “A Sunday Kind of Love”. Harry had shared her At Last album with you over the Christmas holiday of last year and you had decided to listen to her entire discography afterwards, so you knew the songs. The transition was a little too on the nose and you wondered if Spotify ever listened to your conversations.

His emerald eyes examine your face and take inventory of your features, measuring whether anything had changed since he had looked at you this close up. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into it, dropping his head closer to you ever so slightly and closing his eyes at the feeling of you.

“I am sorry,” he whispers earnestly as he reopens his eyes.

You can’t take your eyes off of him even if you tried. He looks so soft in the moment, so vulnerable in this light as the music swells in the corner of the room. Etta sings about how she needs a love that is going to last as the pair of you inch yourselves closer together.

“I forgive you, Harry,” you whisper back.

He nudges his head further down and your lips finally press together, slotting back together after months apart. Your lips are eager to press back against their favorite companion. You oblige them, but pull back for a second, just far enough to say, “I will always forgive you, so long as you tell me when you’re scared so we can work through it together.”

He nods, “I promise to never let you go again.” Before taking you back against his lips and gathering your body up in his arms. His lips missing yours just as much.

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cuddlesslut · 4 years

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Live my Life Ch.1

Kuroo x fem reader

Summary: sometimes life is full of making the wrong choices and not knowing till it’s to late.

A/N: this is chapter one of my new story. I’m still writing the Home series I must really wanted to start this story as well. I hope you guys like this one.

Warning: Angst, Smut, Drunk Sex, Underage drinking, toxic behavior

You found yourself sitting in this dingy bar nursing a drink you weren’t supposed to have. This had become part of your routine. It all started about three weeks ago. Your friend Kana, or well you suppose she could be called a friend she was more of a friend of a friend. She seemed nice enough kind of the free spirit type of girl always into the new big trend, not really what you would describe yourself as, more of what you wanted to be. You weren’t exactly some shy shut in but still your anxieties held you back from charging head first into in life and taking the bull by the horns. That’s why you surprised even yourself when you offered to be Kana’s bar buddy.

Kana is bartender at this whole in the wall bar with dim lighting. It got fairly good business but not enough to warrant more than one bartender at a time. That being the case Kana would often be there by herself well late into the night, the neighborhood wasn’t horrible but it still was unsettling sometimes. So as her bar buddy you would come at some point in her shift and find a free seat at the bar hopefully far enough distance from any other patrons. You’d order some fries or whatever greasy snack food you craved and waited there with her while she worked until she was ready to lock up. It was pretty easy you’d just sit there offering her someone to talk when she was bored or when she need to escape some overbearing customers. She’d make her way over too you and pretend to make you a drink. Although she offered you a drink you usually turn her down for the clear fact that you were underage when it came to drinking. It was perfectly fine for you to sit in the establishment since it also served food but at the age of 18 drinking was still prohibited. Being the laid back girl and bartender she was Kana didn’t care about bending that rule for a friend.

Most nights you’d pull out some school work on your tablet that your carried with you or just read some stories on your phone. Usually trying your best to avoid conversation with the regulars. That didn’t work as well as you hoped and soon enough you were quickly learning all of the local gossip and being included in the group known as the regulars. Which is what you were since you found yourself here four nights out of you week. You didn’t mind spending so much of your time here with Kana it was kind of nice to stray from your comfort zone plus you and Kana were steadily getting closer as friends too. Everything was smooth sailing until you met him.

It was a usual Thursday night you got dressed in your causal but sleek outfit. Wearing a comfortable pair of Jeans that hugged your body nicely not too tight but still showed your curves. You paired it with a black blouse and black ankle boots. You freshened up your make up of the day not needing to try to hard seeing as you weren’t going there to impress anyone. In fact you preferred to not draw any attention. Your brushed through your hair finally heading out of your home and too the dingy bar. Things seemed a little off tonight some felt different but still you took your usual seat as you scanned the bar. It was fairly empty only two other customers sitting all the way at the other end of the counter. Kana wasn’t anywhere to be found, she’s probably just grabbing something back you reasoned. And sure enough you could hear a clang in the back of the establishment that was hidden from the public eye. Although it wasn’t Kana that popped around the corner. Instead stood a tall and extremely handsome guy. He was wild black hair that was strewn in a chaotic fashion but it suited him. You could tell by his physique that he was fit , not too overly muscular but when he reached up to put the box he was carrying on the top shelf you could see a peak of a very well defined v line on his tanned skin. This man was the definition of tall, dark ,and handsome. And that wasn’t even mentioning his intense honey eyes that felt like they pierced your soul with just one look. He wore a black pair of fitted jeans and a red button up with strange print on it. You could inspect the odd design more intensely as he approached you with a smirk plastered on his face. Ah they were little black cats that littered his print. The style screamed I’m stylish but quirky.

“Well hello there sweetheart how can I help you?” You could tell he was using his customer service persona. Ah he goes for the smooth talkng flirt, he probably does very well with middle aged woman, you think.

“Um yeah,” you state giving the room one more look “ do you know where Kana is?” You questioned.

His perked at the mention of your friend. You could see him relax a little as he released some tension rolling his shoulders back. “Ahh you must be YN,” he smiled placing his hands on the bar leaning forward. His voice was a notch higher no longer Using his deep Casanova tone, this one was more natural. You eyes widened at the sound of your name leaving his lips.

“Yeah,” you replied hesitant.

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou,” he presented his hand offering a firm shake to which you awkwardly accepted. “I’m guessing Kana forgot to inform you that id becoming back to work my usual Thursday shift today did she?” He let out a small chuckle.

Damn it Kana you cursed inside your mind. You could have been cozy in bed right now. “Ha nope she did not,” you let out a sigh. “I didn’t realize she was just covering these last few weeks” you respond.

“She just had my Thursday shift Mondays and Wednesdays are still her regular days.” He grinned “she was nice enough to take my shift while I was out with some family stuff.”

“Ahh I see, well I’ll should probably get out of your hair,” you stated starting to slide off the stool.

“Hey wait you came all the way out here let me get you a drink,” he offered.

You froze in your seat for a moment kind of embarrassed. You felt heat creep to your face as you respond “ oh umm I’m not actually old enough I’m only 18,” your eye locked on the surface in front of you.

He let out a chuckle “let me see your ID.”

Your face scrunched in confusion “but-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Shh just hand it over,” he smiles. You raise your eyebrow as you reach into your handbag fishing out your ID and handing it over. He backs upmholding it as though it was valid. “Well look at that! Sure enough you’re 20,” he gives a cheeky smile “so what can I get you to drink?”

You take back your card placing it back safely in your bag a look of shock present on your youthful features. You lean forward whispering “won’t you get in trouble!” Not wanting to have someone risk their job. He lets out a haughty laugh. “My dads the owner so I’m not too worried.” He stated cockily. “So again what are you drinking sweetheart?” Again he flashed that stupid smirk that sent your stomach doing flips.

After two drinks and some idle chit chat in his free time you decided it probably be best if you headed out. He was quick to stop you. “Ahh come on dont leave so soon I was hoping you’d be my bar buddy too,” he pouted. You rolled your eyes at his teasing. It was enough to keep you there though ordering another drink to nurse. It felt nice chatting and casually flirting with this attractive stranger.

This too became part of your routine. You still went to the bar during Kana’s shift to keep her company but you kept going on Thursday and spending you night talking to Kuroo. The both of you spending most of the night getting to know each other. It was just surface things like school, you found out he was two years older than you going to a university near by studying chemical engineering,and your taste in music which was something you had a lot in common. The conversation focused mainly on you. He always directed the flow of the conversation he was so out going and smooth, always asking questions about your day liked hearing about your day as if being a 3rd year in high school was the most exciting thing. You’d sit there for hours with him trying new drinks sometimes finding yourself leaving the bar at three am as if you didn’t have class in four hours. But you didn’t care it was exhilarating this was the most rebellious thing you had ever done. The flirting was harmless never going to far. And although you wouldn’t admit you were getting a crush on the raven haired bartender.

It was just another Wednesday night but today something inside of you told you to dress up more than you’d usually go for. Tonight you wore a simple black dress with a deep neckline that really showed your figure without being to flashy. Your period had recently finished so knowing you were securely dried up you decided to go for a pair of your fancy red lace panties and a matching bra that always boosted your confidence. Not that anyone would be seeing them. You checked yourself one last time before heading out to the bar and damn did you look hot.

When you entered the bar you were surprised to it was rather busy with customers all over the place, luckily you find a seat at the bar. You noticed that Kenma was also behind the bar. Kenma was the other bartender that worked the shifts opposite of Kana and Kuroo. He was also Kuroo’s best friend. You’ve only met him a couple times when he’d come to the bar to see Kuroo while he was on shift. It must be really busy if they called him in to work the bar with Kana.

Kana gave a sigh of relief and smiled as she saw you sitting at the bar. “Oh my god girl hey,” smiled “do you see how hectic it is?” She laughed. She took a moment to fully look you over her eyes wide.

“Damn girl you look fucking hot!” You felt some pride grow in you hearing your friend complement you. She always looked amazing so hearing that she thought you looked great felt like high praise.

“You want a drink babe?” She asked although it was more a of statement as she was already whipping together a drink before you were finished nodding. She handed you a strong yet sweet drink before she was whisked away by some needy patrons.

You sipped on your drink watching Kana handle the crowd. You and Kenmas eyes would lock every now and then but it’s very short and awkward. You don’t know him very well. Part of your anxieties had you convinced he didn’t like you. But you tried not to read into it to much. Kuroo had told you once that it was just that he wasn’t much of a people person only working at the bar as a favor to Kuroo and his father. You sit there silently observing the world around you not noticing someone taking the seat next to you.

“Boo,” a husky voiced whispered into your ear sending shivers down your spine. Kuroo cackled as you jumped turning around clutching your chest.

“What the hell Kuroo!” You gasped trying to steady your breathing. “They call you in too?” You ask referring to the booming business you sat in.

“Nah it’s my day off and I wanted to come have a drink and bug Kenma,” he rose his hand singling said man for a drink. “But looks like I lucked out now I get to bother you all night,” he smirked.

“Oh really and who said I want to have you around I deal with you enough on Thursdays,” you smiled back with a sly look.

He feigned a look of hurt. “Ouch YN you wound me, I thought we were friends,” giving you look that definitely didn’t come off as just friendly. You just roll your eyes trying to hide your intrigue. “Well it seems I need to prove my friendship to you let me by you a drink.” He rested his hand on yours as he signaled for a refill on your drink.

You should have seen it coming but you acted surprised when after several drinks and a couple rounds of shots you found yourself in the back seat of his car. Your red panties tossed to the side somewhere in the vehicle. You were laying back as he dove under the hem your dress. Kuroo looked up to your face his lips barley an inch away from your heat. He had a devious look on his face as he watched your face flush with need. Your lips were swollen from the heated make out sessions you had outside the bar. He quirked his eyebrow teasingly his heavy breath tickling you. He was waiting. It was almost tortuous but you knew what he wanted.

You pouted your chest rising and falling from your hard breathing. “Please!” You begged. He smiled content with hearing your pleas before diving into you his tongue lapping at your wet folds. Your head fell back in pleasure as he ate you out like a man starved. Your moans filled the car as he worked his skilled tongue in and out of you. He could feel how close you were as he felt you clench around his fingers as he worked you loose. Relief flooded your body as you came on his face. Lust still flooding you as you watched him lick up all your juices. He moved up your body sealing your lips into a searing kiss you could taste your essence on his lips.

Your hands reached down his body grabbing at his bulge. He let out a groan in your ear before picking you up and placing you on his lap. He attacked you neck nippping and sucking harsh purple marks into your skin. He pulled the collar of your dress down pulling your breast out . Moving your bra down he latched his lips around your swollen nipple rolling it between his teeth. You let out a pained moan as you rolled you hips into his lap. He finally hit limit. He lifted you up as he pulled his pants and boxers down before lining his achingly hard length with your wet cunt before pulling you down on it. Both of your groans filled the space as you felt him fill you whole. You hid your face in his neck as you panted while he let you adjust to the intrusion. You could feel his hands roaming your ass pushing the skirt of your dress up. A sudden smack came to your ass. You let out a hiss. He rubbed the mark he left on your soft skin.

“Go ahead sweetheart ride my cock,” he demanded. His dirty words sent shivers over body. You did just as he said starting to move your hips up and down rotating on his dick as it reached deep inside of you. Your body was already on edge from your earlier release so it took no time to have you clenching tightly around him you next orgasm fastly approaching.

“Fuck you’re so god damn tight,” he groaned. Lust took over as he grabbed your hips holding you still as he drilled up into your pliant body. Your moans egged him on as he chased both of your climaxes. He loved the feeling of your pussy clamping down on him. Feeling you milk his cock drained him of his will and of his semen as he came deep into you.

You both sat there for a moment both coming down from your highs. Bodies worn from the intense session you had just had. He groaned throughing his head back, “fuck I didn’t wear a condom,” he cursed.

“I’m on birth control” you breathed moving off his lap. You searched for your panties sliding them on quickly trying to contain the mess between your legs.

“Good, that’s good,” he breathed a sigh of relief he looked around both of you. It seemed no one notice dyour little drunken romp in the parking lot. There was a slight awkward pause neither knowing what to say.

“Well that was great,” he offered, “uhh do you need a ride home?” He questioned.

You shook your head, “no I’ll just grab a quick Uber home,” you respond pulling your phone out to do just that.

He nodded seeming to like that idea not wanting you to walk home. “I’ll probably head back in and sober up a little before heading home. I definitely can’t drive right now. I’m not even sure my legs will get me back inside,” he laughed. You giggled as well. A chime rang from your phone, your ride would be pulling up soon.

“Hey give me your number and message me when you get phone safe.” He said taking the phone to send a message to himself successfully trading numbers. He gave you one more deep kiss before you left to catch your Uber.

That night your body passed out exhausted. You knew you were going to regret drinking so much tomorrow morning when you have to wake up for class.

And damn was your body sore. Your head was ponding from all the alcohol and the rest was sore from the wild sex you had. Still you woke up bright and early making sure to shower off any evidence from your delinquent activities. You made sure to take some Advil before leaving for school opting to skip breakfast since your stomach was still unstable from the liquor. Your morning classes were relatively easy not but extremely boring. You found yourself daydreaming through most of your history class thinking back to your night with Kuroo. Little fantasys of dates, and more long talks at the bar, even some naughty ideas popped into your head. It was almost like you willed him into existence because not two seconds later your phone vibrated. Your heart skipped a beat seeing his name pop up in your notifications. You laughed at the way he saved his number last night. Oh my god he texted me you thought you were so giddy. That was until you read the messages.

Kuroo 🥵: Hey YN.

Kuroo 🥵: Last night was a Mistake. Look I have a girlfriend and I love her so I think it’s best we pretend last night never happened. Sorry.

Ouch. That hurt.

General Taglist: @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @graykageyama

Taglist: @captain-janeway @elianetsantana

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq #haikyuu smut #haikyuu angst #kuroo x reader #Kuroo #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro fanfiction #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo x y/n #kuroo angst #kuroo tetsuro angst #live my life #live my life by Cuddlesslut

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inviouswriting · 4 years

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Hecate

Character death. Like placing this at the top not greatly graphic but still enough to warrant a warning.

Amourtine!au. I finally did one. This is Hecate.

"You're reading those silly books again?" A voice brought Hecate out of her thoughts, she looks up to be greeted by Nabriales standing near her. Hecate makes a face she never did like him. Too arrogant for her liking.

She had been lost in a book she had found. It spoke of worlds and spoke of romance between people. She loved the idea of it, but had a feeling this world she'd never experience it. So she would read it often. Knights, princesses, dragons and curses.

"They're not silly, they're charming." Hecate turns her head away.

"Yes, while our world is about to die you want to ignore it." Hecate shrinks her head down. Nabriales sees her turn her head.

"I choose to remain happy in these times. I don't want to think of the impending doom like how everyone else is." Hecate ignores the anger crossing his face standing her ground.

"And here we can stop it, but you want to spend your time reading fantasies?!" Hecate glares.

"Maybe we're not suppose to stop it! Maybe it is suppose to happen and summoning Zodiark is not what we should be doing!"

"You have no idea how much we are trying to prevent the lives of many from dying." Nabriales turns on his heel to leave her. Hearing more than enough to fuel him in his reasons.

Hecate sighs and drifts her gold eyes back to the book in front of her using a strip of cloth as a marker she would find a quieter spot to read.

As she left Hecate is approached by another of the conclave. Hades.

"I would tell you all the things you already know and it would still be pointless." Hades would try to persuade her but Hecate was hard to convince once her mind was set. Even if thunder rained next to them she would rather remain there unmoving.

"You could but I rather not hear it. Already have Nabriales giving me hell."

"Can't say I blame him entirely. We do have a role to do." Hecate raises a hand, not interested.

"If what everyone says is true. Then why not spend the last days with the ones you love or pastimes." Hecate holds the book in her hands to her chest.

"You at least get to experience love." She felt a little envious of his relationship in knowing she wont experience it. What it truly is to love.

"Let's not bring her into this conversation." Hades could see that Nabriales got under her skin a bit.

"Then it would be better to leave my hobby alone."

"You are a bit dramatic today." He leaves her, the evening had begun and Hecate just wanted peace for the day.

She retired to her room, and hugged the book to her chest. She had spoken to a few others, but she resigned herself to her thoughts, she didn’t agree to their methods. How could anyone be terrible if they wrote books or created ideas. It gave her a sense of hope.

Little did she know that this was the last time she would see them. When the first star shower hit it struck buildings near her enough to wake her and rattle everything around her. The windows shattered and the rear of fire billowed with searing heat.

Hecate manages to get out of the building she is in with several others all staring up in disbelief. Some questioning others yet she didn’t feel afraid. More accepting to what was happening.

Another star shower more fierce and hit the neighboring building overhead, this snaps Hecate out of her daze and she barks orders at those near her to start running away. Somehow to get to a safer spot.

Hecate leads the way in the group even as some scatter to find friends or find their own paths. Hecate felt fear under her feet as it trembled and the floor cracked with it. Something was coming up from underneath.

"No!" Something monstrous broke out from behind her. Underneath the group she had been leading. She turned to see a few people devoured. Others running away in different directions only for the ground to fall beneath them.

Hecate didn’t want to die like this so she turned to run away in the direction she was heading. The worm like beast lost interest in her for others. It didn’t stop her feet from carrying her away.

Hecate reaches an ending and looks around her for another path only to have it blocked. A strong guest knocks her over the edge, she grabbles for the ledge and feels her nails scratch it as she slips down enough for them to break down. She looks up and what knocked her over was another beast, like a demented looking owl looming in front of her.

Hecate's mask is broken on a side and gold eyes brim with tears thinking that this would be how it ends.

"Hear... Feel... Think..." echoes in her mind but terror runs through her as the beast has her entranced staring to where she doesn’t see that the worm creature runs towards her from the structure she clings to ramming her with the horn piercing her and a combination of the second beast releasing another gust to toss her far.

She lands on the top of an adjacent building, skidding to a stop at the edge. The beasts losing interest in something dying for other beings running around.

Hecate feels the wind lost out of her, the worm creature had torn a good part of her open and punctured a lung. Even if she could run she knew she would die.

Hecate stares at the orange glow of the city as towers fall, and the monsters wreck havoc. Some summoning more to help them. Hecate closes her eyes when she feels colder in herself.

She feels her side, she still had the book she had, a soft and sad smile crosses her lips as she lifts the book to her, opening her eyes she sees feet in front of her.

Hazy, Hecate looks up to see a woman before her. The scythe she sits on telltale, she had read in stories how a being of death has one.

"Here for me?" The being looks at her, green eyes regard her with a wild grin.

"Indeed. But it seems fate has bigger things in store for you. I have an offer." Hecate shivers as she breathes a bit harder.

"I am dying... what offer can you make to someone who is dying." Green eyes glow orange brief in her guess annoyance.

"I am aware of your impending death. Looking at you now, I wouldnt give it another hour. More than enough time to ask and get an answer." The woman flicks her tail behind her, then looks at her nails.

Hecate remains silent, to listen to her. She tugs the book up with bloodied hands from where her fingers bleed at her nails and from laying her her blood.

"The offer is a new life. However at a cost. Or you can lie there and die in agony. Completely up to you." A tap of booted feet together.

Hecate thinks it over, she is already dying. If she can experience a new life, would it be the same one.

"Will I relive this here?" She asks the reaper.

"I can't tell you that. I have taken a liking to you since you defended what it means to die." The woman walks into the puddle that had reached her her feet. Under the soles of her boots frost starts to creep in it.

"Will I remember life?" Hecate looks up into vibrant green eyes.

"I dont think remembering a life where you died will be great. So I'll take those memories as payment for the new life you will get. It would be better than this on your mind?" She gestures to the dying world around them.

"No.." Hecate answers about remembering.

"One more question. Before I make my choice." Hecate sees the reaper fold her arms.

"One more."

" Will I matter in this new life?" There is only a wicked grin.

"That is for you to decide in your path. Now have you made your choice? I have more souls to collect." The way she says it, is as if this was taking up her time while her nails dried.

"I have, I accept!" Hecate says with the last ounce of zeal she can muster. The present grin on the woman widens.

"There we go then. Now for this chapter to end and a new one to begin. just focus on my voice. Kiya Shinikami."

"My name is Hecate..."

"Old life, old name. New life, new name. You must not remember this life. Or the magic might be undone. Only time shall tell."

"What is your name then..." Hecate opens the book she had been clutching to her chest, the soaked pages stick as she tries to read her favorite passage. At least once more.

"I gave you my name. I dont have another to tell you yet. Perhaps if we meet again I'll tell you then." Kivera kneels to take Hecates hands as they hold the bloodied book struggling to keep it up.

Hecate doesn't feel pain once Kivera's hands touch hers. It was as if the nerves ceased to cause it. Kivera looks at the book page and reads to her as a last effort seeing her trying to have comfort in her time.

Kivera looks her over, and as she sees the life fade in the woman on her lap. She alters the spirits form as it is sent off to Hydaelyn.

"One more selfishness. A new face for a fresh life." Kivera feels heat under her from the building they were on was collapsing. With wide wings she flies up to see how far left the world has left as it burns bright. The star showers barrage and the monsters do their things they must. Kivera collects the book Hecate had clutched so tender.

"I Want To Be Your Canary. Hmm.. maybe you will find yours. Just dont end in tragedy." Kivera witnesses the last of the dooms taking over. More special souls being plucked from time to perhaps begin new lives in different worlds.

As Hecate closed her eyes once more. She feels a sense of warmth embrace her, and the words she heard at the start of the star showers resonate in her head again.

"Hear... Feel... Think." Her eyes close and the memories she had, she felt them slip from her like they no longer are hers.

Kiya opens hers wide and frantic. What greets her is ice blue staring down at her concern in them. Her senses come back to her, and a thumb wipes away a stream of tears at the edges of her eyes. Aymeric has her laying with her head on his lap.

Kiya remembers her dream, what was the life she had and how she remembered. Perhaps it was awakening from Elidibus. All she remembers is that life is not her anymore.

"Kiya.. another nightmare?" Aymeric asks, dressed in his ala Mhigan gown. He had seen her turning in her sleep and knew from her whimpering it was a bad dream.

"It was a horrible dream..." a hand goes through her black hair, it grounds her to.him in the color. That this is her life now. She would have to talk to Shuri or Meeps maybe about her memories.

Aymeric doesn't press for details, he has seen a handful of times his wife waking up in tears.

She will tell him when she is ready to.

For now he pets her head as he comforts her, tugging her up into his arms. Kiya feels safer, and well blessed. Aymeric's hands rest on the swell of her belly over the defined bump now.

It wouldn't be long before she is given another life. One she looks forward to in being a mother to their child. She curls more into Aymeric and feels him rest his head on top of hers. He has spent more time with her knowing she is close to having their child. He anticipates it as it means his wife stays with him for a good while. While she recovers and gets to know the new life she brings in.

"You are amazing my love." Aymeric says barely above a whisper. Meant more under his breath in his amazement over how much has grown in a few months. He kisses her face till he is sure her mood is lifted a bit.

"Aymeric?" Kiya fidgets with his hands as she grabs them from messing with the bump after a kick was felt in her side. It felt like this child was doing somersaults inside her.

"Aye?" Aymeric presses his face to hers nuzzling her lovingly.

"Would you read to me?" Aymeric's eyes widen a bit and he smiles.

"Of course. What would you like read to you?" He doesn't question it, and when she leaves him she returns after looking at her bookshelf for one book in particular.

"Isn't this an old tragic one? Wouldn't you want something happier?" He comments when he sees the title having read it himself when he was younger.

"Please? It's a favorite of mine." Aymeric sees from the worn cover and edges, how it almost seems like the book itself has seen battle. Some pages have a brownish tint to them.

"I will read it for you then." He sees her face light up in joy. How can he resist when she pouts so sweetly.

I want to be your canary.

#aymeric #ser aymeric #ffxiv aymeric #aymeric de borel #Kiya Shinikami #aymeric x kiya

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your-iron-lung · 4 years

Text

La Chasse au Loup - 1

available to read on AO3 HERE

Story Synopsis: All things considered, there’s a lot of strange things a man could find in the back-bush of his own farm, rural as it may be. Some of it he could be aware of and do his best to work around, but a lot of it went so far under the radar it almost wasn’t worth thinking about. Mostly it was animals- a goat or a sheep that hadn’t been bedded down proper wandered out overnight and didn't wander back come morning. Turned up the next day in the bush in a strange, disemboweled sort of way.

It's coyotes that do it, Wayne reasoned. Wolves, maybe, but whatever it was it certainly wasn't anything living under his very nose.

Chapter Word Count: 3133

Pairings: (background, minimal) Wayne/Daryl

Genre: Dark/black comedy with a lil bit of drama

Next Chapter: 2

Chapter Warnings: blood and some bones being kinda funky, but nothing graphic

Notes: now, i know what youre all thinking. youre thinking, ‘duke, what are you doing! dont start another werewolf fic while youre still tryingta get no shade done!! are you coocoo banans or what!’ and the answer is yes

yes i am

(tho this is supposed to be short and funny and its mostly all written out anyway. this first bit is a lil dark but i swear to GOD its supposed to be funny. pls believe me. pls laugh.)

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THE STORM

The storm that hit the farm was one that the local meteorologists had been nervously talking about for days, warning both farmers and locals alike to start taking serious precautions against it. ‘Make sure your delicate crops are appropriately cared for, and be sure your livestock have a proper, sturdy shelter to take cover in, because, folks, this is going to be a bad one.’

Spring storms often were. Wayne’s mother liked to put it in his head when he was younger that it was because the winter and summer seasons used springtime as a battleground of sorts, fighting it out like gods from some old mythos. Spring storms, as she put it, happened because winter was taking too long to leave and summer was quickly growing impatient. Their clashes turned violent fast, and that's how spring got a reputation for its disastrous weather.

If his mother were still alive today, he was sure that she’d say this storm was going to be a real battle for the ages. It was winding up to be one of the worst the area had had in awhile, aiming to hit Letterkenny in the dead of night when its people were at their most vulnerable.

Should probably just surrender there, bud , he sometimes found himself thinking whenever he heard new reports regarding the storm, each incoming update worse than the last.

Expect heavy gusts of wind and moderate to severe structural damage, quoted the forecasters. Hail was guaranteed, and it was going to bring plenty of thunder and lightning with it. The rainfall was expected to be heavy, so be wary of localized flooding. Isolated tornadoes would be a strong possibility- make sure there was a way to receive alerts if one should pop up.

“With the way they’re talking, you’d think the sum’bitch was gonna be rainin’ fire and brimstone on us,” McMurray grumbled one day, and Wayne found that he agreed that they might be talking it up a little bit. He couldn’t remember a time when an unnamed storm warranted so much precaution.

Wayne’s thoughts on the impending weather notwithstanding, he understood how important the farm was to his livelihood; he and Katy depended on it to get by, so if there was any sort of threat to it that could be prevented, then it was only right that they ought to do something about it. Nothing worse than being caught with your pants down, so to speak.

With the enlisted help of Dan and Dary, they’d gone around reinforcing all the windows and barn doors, checking for any fundamental flaws in the integrity of their buildings while Katy went around making sure the crops that could be saved were secured before extending that same courtesy to Dan’s estate. It was hard work, and they were all bedraggled and worn out from all the extra hours that had to be put in on top of everything else they’d been dealing with as of late, but they all felt a little more secure from their efforts.

(They’d paid special attention to fortifying The Garden as they’d worked on making sure the farm was secured; they couldn’t risk its contents being exposed, and if anyone asked why it warranted so much focus, well, they had to protect Dan’s perennials.)

By the time the storm finally rolled into town with its thick, voluminous black clouds slouching ominously towards Letterkenny to be born, Wayne again found himself mentally calling for its surrender. All his blustering with McMurray left him feeling slightly foolish as he stood out on the back deck of his small home to face the bastard’s approach, lightning already beginning to flare out of the clouds to illuminate itself against the backdrop of a rapidly darkening evening sky.

He wasn’t a man who’d ever really been affected much by storm anxiety, but as he stood there thinking about it, flicking his unfinished dart away, he reckoned he might be feeling it now.

(Although, to be fair , his anxieties weren’t because of the storm itself, but rather, were in anticipation of the storm’s aftermath and what it might dredge up. Things had been oppressively ominous around the farm the past few months, and of course it was only suitable that a storm of this magnitude should serve as a catalyst; he just hadn’t yet figured out what it was a catalyst to.)

His mind weighed down with his thoughts, Wayne turned his back on the stormfront and stepped inside as the first strong gust of wind surged past him, slamming the door shut after him with a loud bang.

The suddenness of its closure made him flinch, and the uneasiness harbored in his chest squeezed tightly for an instant. Gus jerked up from where he’d been sleeping by the door and whined pitiably at the noise. Wayne crouched down as he stepped by him to pet his head reassuringly as the distant, Delicate Sound of Thunder announced the storms arrival.

“Oh, it’s alright,” Wayne muttered lowly in a babying tone before stepping away, ignoring the miserable way Gus plopped his head back onto the tile with his eyes turned nervously towards the door.

He peeked his head into the living room to check on Stormy before making his way upstairs, mentally going over the emergency plans he’d made with Katy and Daryl (who lived with them now for safety’s sake) in case the worst should happen: where their emergency supplies were stashed, which one of them was going to round up the dogs, and where they were all going to go if a tornado should whip up.

They were as well prepared as they could be. All that was left to do was sleep through it; there was choring that needed to be done in the morning, and a man needed his rested energy to do them efficiently, impending doom or no.

The door to the guest bedroom where Dary had been staying was uncharacteristically shut when he reached the upstairs landing. Wayne stopped by it and considered checking in on him, but decided against it before settling into his own room and getting ready for bed, where he laid sleepless for hours, listening to the storm as it came to town, bringing all its rage with it.

The wind outside wasn’t just howling as it blew past, but screaming , screeching like a mateless fox in the night. Every thud and thunk of debris as it slammed against the house had him calculating the damages in his mind ( casualties of a seasonal war), leaving him to wonder if his barn would even still be standing by the morning.

But if not, then it could be rebuilt, the livestock replaced. It would be a financial hit, sure, but all the family animals were inside, and unless a tornado really did come bumbling through, then everything would be fine. Stock could be replaced; his family couldn’t, but they were all safe and accounted for. If he stayed awake worrying about it, then he’d be too tired to make any needed repairs by the time the storm finally did peter out.

He inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to ease his mind, and felt all the stored up tension he’d been holding slide out of his body. As he focused on the machine-gun rhythm of the heavy rain hammering down against the roof, he could almost tune out the screaming gale, and adjusted to the aggressive white noise as being something soothing.

Later, he wouldn’t remember falling asleep; it was only after he woke up that he’d realized he’d even slept at all. He woke up feeling disoriented, his phone pinging an alarm at him from where he’d set it down. Grabbing it, he checked the tornado watch alert and then set it back down, an anxious little curl forming in his stomach.

He sat in bed, alert and awake despite feeling as though he hadn’t gotten more than about an hour’s worth of sleep. Something wasn’t right, and it wasn’t just because the storm was still there and lingering, thrashing Letterkenny hard enough to provoke an early morning alert.

It was preternatural, the way it was lingering, hovering over his home as though it had some sort of vendetta against them.

A loud bang came sharply and abruptly, capturing wholly Wayne’s attention. He fixed his head in the direction it came from and heard muffled voices coming from somewhere downstairs. The howling wind rushing by his bedroom window masked the urgency with which they spoke, but all the same he was able to understand that something bad must have happened sometime in the night.

Had the barn collapsed? Was a funnel cloud forming? He hoped that whomever it was pounding their way hurriedly up the stairs wasn’t about to tell him someone he knew had been hurt.

The door to his room slammed open, banging against the wall. Katy stood there in the opening, breathing hard, her face shadowed by the darkness of his room.

“ It’s Dary,” she said urgently, panting. Her slender form, backlit by the hallway light, was visibly shaking.

He didn’t have to be told twice. Wayne sat up in bed quickly, shucking the blankets off of himself so fast that he flung them straight to the floor as he came to a stand.

“What’s the fuss?” he asked as an eerie sound came drifting up the stairs behind her. She stared at him with dazed eyes before turning her head to the side to listen to it as it crept up from down the stairs, and before he could kindly ask what the fuck is going on, she turned around suddenly and left.

He listened to her footsteps race down the hall and back down the stairs, utterly alarmed. Her panic was uncharacteristic and unnerving, spurring him into action as he heard another loud bang emanate from downstairs. He took long walking strides as he made his way after her, subconsciously coming to realize that the sound that had lured Katy away was of someone moaning.

Katy’s voice, shrill, disappeared as someone ( Squirrely Dan , he realized belatedly once he was halfway down the stairs) furtively whispered to whomever it was that was making that awful, miserable moaning that it was going to be okay.

“You’re alright, Dar. I gots you, I gots you.”

Making it to the downstairs landing, barefoot and full of purpose, Wayne turned towards the kitchen where all the noises were being made and was stunned still by what he saw.

There was blood everywhere . Splattered on the floor, on the furniture, and in the center of a small pool of it was Dan, cradling Dary’s limp, motionless body amidst the overturned dining chairs. Wayne’s mouth dropped open, his eyes blinking hard as he both tried to get over the shock of what he was seeing and processing it all in the same second.

Dan looked up at him when he stepped close, pale-faced and covered up to the elbows in runny blood, fresh and staining his denim overalls a dark, grotesque burgundy. All Wayne could do in that moment was stare, even as he realized that what was making that horrid noise was Dary.

Dary, who looked ridiculously small as Dan held him in his trembling arms. Dary, who was naked and coated in blood and viscera, looking more like a newborn than a man. Dary, whose eyes were open wide but rolled back and blind, exposing nothing but red-veined white as his mouth hung limply open, releasing that droning moan in one continuous breath.

One of his hands was clutching at Dan for support, and his legs-

“What the fuck,” Wayne choked out, because as he stared down at him, he could see that both of Dary’s legs were hideously broken.

“I don’t knows,” Dan gasped, his bearded face wet with tears. “I don’t knows what’s happening.”

“Where’s Katy gone?”

But before Dan could even respond to him, her screams supplied the answer.

“Gus!” He heard her screech, her voice pitching wildly as she screamed furtively into the wind. “ Gus !”

Though it was hard, Wayne managed to tear his eyes off of Dary to turn towards the backdoor, alarmed to see that it was hanging weakly off its hinges, rustling as easily as a leaf in the breeze, opening a portal into the horrific grey rain that came in to splash against the linoleum. A flash of lightning illuminated her briefly as she stood in the yard shouting, her hands cupped around her mouth as she screamed for Gus over the sharp crack of accompanying thunder.

In the back of his mind, all Wayne could think of in that moment was of the tornado alert. All their precautions had been tossed aside, and if disaster struck now-

Well, it almost wasn’t worth thinking about.

Leaving Dan and Dary in the kitchen, he rushed out after her, striding into the snow and mud barefoot to grab her roughly by the arm, her hair whipping around in the harsh wind in long wet strands that struck at his face.

“Inside!” he bellowed, trying to pull her back towards the house.

“Gus is out here!” she cried out hoarsely, pulling her arm out of his grip. “He’s out here, Wayne! He got out when Dary came in! Gus! ” she continued to scream, heedless of the danger she was putting herself in.

Wayne’s heart sank as he both saw and felt the desperation in her voice. He looked around briefly, trying to discern if he could see any sign of where his beloved dog had gone, but it was impossible to see anything in the torrential downpour.

Freezing water flooded down his face in such strong streams that it was all but blinding, such that he had to squint hard to keep the rain from inhibiting him totally. He could barely see Katy between the hard pouring streaks of rain even though they were only standing a few feet apart. If Gus was out there, then he was lost.

“INSIDE,” he ordered again, even though it hurt him deeply to do so, but for as much as he loved that dog, he couldn’t risk losing her over him. Katy let out an exhausted sob, but let Wayne take her by the wrist and sternly guide her back to the safety of the house.

As they rushed up the steps and out of the rain that was slowly turning to hail, there came the sound of a frightened dog hiding from underneath the porch. Wayne had never felt such relief as he did as he saw Katy to safety before sprinting back down the wooden steps, nearly slipping in the slush as he did so. There was a spot of latticework that lined the back-porch that he’d been meaning to patch up that smaller, wild animals had been using for shelter, and as he rounded the corner to it, he found Gus there lying in a terrified heap.

Ignoring the cold and the muck and the mess he was making of himself, Wayne wasted no time dropping to his knees to grab Gus and roughly drag him out of his little cove of protection. He was shaking badly as Wayne effortlessly tucked him up into his arms, carrying him back into the house with his whimpers in his ear. He held Gus by the collar for a moment as he tried to situate the door back into place before releasing him, letting him bolt into the living room to shake himself dry and hide.

Soaking wet and breathing heavily, Wayne wiped the water off of his face and unknowingly streaked mud across his forehead before returning to Dan’s side, who still sat with Dary in his arms. Neither of them had moved from their position on the floor, but even as Wayne tried to re-fix his attention on what happened to Dary to see where all that blood was coming from, he noticed something that didn’t make any sense.

When Wayne had looked him over before, his legs had been terribly broken in such a way that they'd looked almost digitigrade, the bones cracked at unnaturally sharp angles that seemed to strain against his skin, but now they looked like they were-

And even as he stared down at them, the noise Dary was making suddenly keened and Wayne was able to see the bones in his legs shift, moving back towards what accounted for normal with a sickening crunch.

“Wayne,” Dan whispered, terrified. “Wayne, I don’t knows what to do here.”

Well, that makes two of us, Squirrely Dan , he thought hysterically to himself.

“Just- fuckin’- I don’t- just- just take him upstairs,” Wayne barked, speaking too harshly in his confused panic. He honestly had no idea what to do; didn’t even fully understand yet what was even going on, but even as Dan flinched at the initial command, having some sort of direction seemed to solidify his resolution. His round face lost its helplessness in a quick second as he nodded resolutely at the order. Wayne helped him situate Dary’s unconscious, lax body into his arms before getting to it, tromping heavily up the stairs with dutiful purpose, handling the extra weight expertly and trailing blood behind them.

Wayne watched them go before turning his attention to Katy, who had picked up one of the overturned chairs and was now sitting at their table, her head in her hands. Her hair, stringy and loose from being in the rain hung in long, miserable strands, masking her face in a way that was reminiscent of a Japanese ghost.

“Where’s Stormy?” Wayne asked, throat clenching uncomfortably at the thought that she, like Gus, could’ve gotten loose and was out there in the storm somewhere. The sounds of the wind howling and threatening to blow the kitchen door down were more disturbing to him now.

“Locked in the bathroom,” Katy replied tersely, holding an unlit cigarette in her trembling hand.

“In the bathroom,” Wayne repeated with a frown, turning his head in the downstairs bathroom’s direction. The inside light was on, and from the slight crack under the door he could see the shadow of Stormy pacing anxiously by the entrance. “Well... what for?”

“She attacked Dary when he came in.”

“What?” With so much to process, Wayne was struggling to understand this strange sequence of events, such as they were. “She attacked him? What was he doing out there?”

“He wasn’t… he wasn’t right when he came in,” Katy said, her whole body shuddering at whatever memory she’d recalled. Before Wayne could ask her what she meant by that, exactly, she elaborated further, saying, “Wayne, it’s him . The sasquatch, wendigo, fucking thing. Killing all those animals. All those people- Wayne, it’s Dary. Daryl.”

#too lazy to format correctly just click the ao3 link #letterkenny #letterkenny fanfic #wayne/daryl #werewolf!dary #dark comedy #black comedy #teeny tiny mentions of gore #this is supposed to be funny but all i know how to write is drama and horror #everyones unaware #theyre just all so fuckin oblivious #samsquantches are involved #dont tell the trailer park boys

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