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fishnets-fingers · 6 months

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sparklers, stutters & sweet treats

a/n - happy deepavali! it's been a while since i wrote layla and harry, so i'm nervous posting this. in six months, layla accompanies her folks to visit family in chicago to celebrate. so, i thought i'd bang out this blurb because i'd regretted not writing about the two celebrating. as always reblogs and comments are appreciated! happy reading :)

MASTERPOST (if you wanna read more of Layla and Harry)

…

The drawing room of Vasanth’s and Abi’s home looked like a hurricane ravaged it. It started with the boxes and packing tubs piled into the guest bedroom on the ground floor. Now those boxes were open; bubble wrap, packing peanuts, old gadgets, clothes, crockeries, baby gizmos, and Abi’s old shoe collection spilled over. “It’s only getting worse,” Abi groans, face heating up from exertion. She padded back to the loveseat, sighing in relief as her back hit the cushion. The room was littered with things the couple had accumulated over the duration of marriage.

“This was a bad idea,” Layla agrees, voice muffled from the handkerchief she’s tied around her head to cover her mouth and nose. Her makeshift mask didn’t help. She sniffled as she was going through the cardboard boxes.

“Got another box,” Vasanth announces, climbing down the stairs holding a food processor box.

“No, come on, I’m done,” Layla complained. “My back hurts. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

“Deepavali is only two days away. We don’t have time, kutti.” Vasanth makes his way to the two, tripping over the things split over from the boxes.

“Vasanth, Layla’s right. Let’s just call it. Maybe we lost the box of decorations during the move,” Abi says.

“It can’t be lost. I was the one who loaded the box in the moving van in Cary.”

“Maybe the moving people stole it. We’ve gone through every goddamn cardboard box in this house.”

“Why would the movers steal a box filled with lamps, string lights, and fake garlands?” Vasanth shakes his head, reaching to get the knife.

“Maybe they were feeling particularly festive that day?” She shrugs.

Abi snorts at her niece’s retort, hand absentmindedly rubbing her swollen belly to calm her active baby.

“Don’t encourage her, Abi.” He opens the box he’d carried downstairs and frowns when he’s met with Abi’s DIY beading kits. “There are three more boxes upstairs. Get them.”

Layla whines and Abi injecterjects before Layla speaks, “We do have a baby coming in three and a half months. I think people will cut us some slack if we don’t decorate.”

“What will our guests think?” Vasanth asks the two women.

“What guests? It’s three people. Anne, Harry and Earl aren’t gonna judge. Plus we could tell them that people don’t decorate much for Deepavali. They’re not gonna know,” Layla voices her support for her Aunty’s idea.

“You two are such bad influences.” Vasanth mutters as he considers stopping the task at hand. “No, we’re decorating. It’s bad enough to be thousands of miles away from our family for every holiday,” his voice firm.

“Vasanth,” Abi coos, eyes softening at the sight of her husband, sitting up to put a hand on his shoulder and giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“சித்தப்பா (Uncle),” Layla pouts. “Are you homesick?”

“No, I’m not,” he tells her, squaring up defensively. “Didn’t I ask for the boxes from the attic to be bought down here?”

“Are you really going to make your pregnant wife climb up and down three flights of stairs?” Layla asks.

“Didn’t ask her. I asked you,” he raises his eyebrows when she huffs.

“Fine but this is child labour, I tell you.” She stomps her way to the staircase.

“I’ll take my chances in court,” her uncle replies, making Layla stick her tongue out at him.

////

“Hey there, dickhead,” Harry calls out, rolling down his window.

“Harry!” Layla waves from where she’s sat on the front porch steps weaving together fairy light on the marigold garland. “How did the meeting go?” Harry had been stressing about his meeting with the college recruiter for days on end.

He pulls up the driveway, quickly tossing his shades on the passenger side. “Pretty good,” he replied, making his way over to his girlfriend. “She asked me a lot of questions about my time in the Arctic.”

“That’s nice. How lucky that she happened to be coming to Chapel Hill!”

He grunts as he lowers himself next to her, clipping his keys to his belt loop when his car beeped locking shut. “Recruiters usually do that,” he says quietly.

“You’re disappointed with yourself,” Layla narrows her eyes as she looks at the way the corner of his lips pulls downward imperceptibly.

Harry shakes his head. “What's all this then?” He motions towards the garlands and the lamps scattered on the floor.

“Decorations for Deepavali.”

“Did you text me last night saying that you guys didn’t find the box with stuff?”

“We didn’t.” Layla chuckles. “Took us hours to pack and put everything back. I went to bed at 3am, only to be woken up in three hours by a call from தாத்தா (grandad).”

“Where did you get all of this then?”

“சித்தப்பா (Uncle) was moping around all homesick this morning, so I looked around after they’d both left for work. Found it in the closet of my room, behind my suitcases. Aunty is coming back after her lunch meeting. We’re going to surprise him with a decorated house.”

“Want a hand?”

“You’re changing the subject,” Layla notes.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you don’t like to admit that you messed up. You’re clearly miffed about it,” she points out.

“The recruiter asked me about the break in my CV,” Harrys says, voice despondent.

“Oh,” Layla replies quietly. This was the question he was dreading. He’d prepared an answer for it, of course - a very diplomatic answer, but he still felt like he’d fallen behind his peers.

“I fumbled,” he ran his hands through his hands in exasperation. “I mean I had a script and everything. Still managed to fuck it up. I gave her the answer but it came out all shaky.”

“You aren’t going to be the only applicant who’s taken gap years. Everyone is doing that now,” she reassures with a kiss to his cheek.

“But I could have been more confident with the answer. It’s early acceptances and they’re very-”

“Did you stutter throughout the interview? Was she displeased?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “It went well. I made her laugh twice. She seemed very enamoured by my fellowship stories.”

“See! You’ve charmed her! She seems impressed. I know this is a competitive program and all; I’m certain your application will stand out. People stumble all the time, especially in high pressure situations. She’s probably seen many applicants stumble. Don’t make a good interview experience all about one small indiscernible moment. One she’s probably not going to remember after a few minutes.”

“Yeah. That makes sense,” Harry sighs. “You’re good at this.” He turns to see her with one eyebrow cocked up and explains, “This talking thing.”

“Hmm,” she smiles. “It’s not like I spent five years training to be a therapist, only to hate it and move to researching the brain.”

“The world was robbed,” he chuckles, throwing his arm around her shoulder.

“Well, if my smartest boyfriend says so,” Layla giggles, leaning forward to kiss the corner of Harry’s mouth.

“Hey! I’m your only boyfriend,” he stitches their lips together, hand coming to stroke her cheek.

“Guess, you’ll just have to take my word for it.” She laughs, pulling him to her mouth by his collared shirt. “Now, come on, help me with the door,” she murmured against his panting mouth.

It look them thirty minutes for the two of them to finish decorating the door. Harry passed her pieces of cut up tape, while Layla stood on the step ladder trying to make the marigold garland hang in perfect U. Harry asked her questions about how they celebrate the festival back home as they’d folded shiny gold craft papers to make paper rosettes.

“Can you text Aunty, please? My phone’s inside the house. Ask her to pick up a pack of lithium button batteries on her way home,” Layla says, blowing on the paper to check if they are holding up.

“Hmm.” Harry can’t help but smile, when he looks up from his text. Layla’s crop top had ridden up - with the way her arms were stretched up - revealing the soft skin of her belly. She’s rolled down the waistband of an oversized basketball shorts, making the pudge under her belly stick out. He takes two steps towards her, tucking his phone in his pocket, hands coming to rest firmly on her hip. An innocuous gesture that he’d done many times during the course of their decoration to steady her on the ladder that Layla didn’t pay much attention to. He flicks his gaze up and sees her with furrowed eyebrows straightening out the fairy lights. His thumbs caresses the warm skin above the band of her shorts before he leans in and nips her belly.

Layla shrieks in response, and Harry’s hands tighten around her hips so she doesn’t lose her balance.

“Harry!” She giggles, when he peppers kisses below her bellybutton. “What are you doing?”

“Loving on you,” he mumbles, tongue trailing her flushed skin.

She laughs, “Maybe you can love on me after we’re done with this,” she juts her chin out to the garlands in front of her.

He steps back, looking at the flowers hanging around the top of the doorframe. Making a show of his inspection, with an arm behind his back and this other perched on his hip. “Looks done to me,” he shrugs.

////

“Ugh,” Layla grimaces, from her spot on Anne’s kitchen island. “They’re not sweet,” she points to the packet of dried rose petals.

“Stop eating the ingredients,” Harry scolds, swatting her hand away from the bowl of cream cheese with his spatula. He was baking an eggless Pistachio Kulfi Cheesecake.

“Pch, you’re no fun,” she rolls her eyes, dangling her legs. “I thought the cheesecake was for me.”

“It is not for you.” He places the spatula in the bowl of his cream cheese and spice mixture and leans against the island with his hips. “I’m making this for Deepavali. Plus, mum would not be a fan if we show up empty handed for dinner tomorrow.”

“All I’m hearing is: ‘Yes, Layla baby, the cheesecake is for you to eat.’”

Harry laughs. “Yes, Layla baby, the cheesecake is for you to eat-”

“Exactly,” she claps, interrupting him. She reaches for the bowl again, only for Harry to push it away from her reach.

“Nuh uh,” he tuts, wrapping his hands around her wrists and pins them behind her back. He moves to stand in between her legs, bending down to press his forehead to hers. “The cheesecake is for you to eat.” He presses a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “But after dinner tomorrow. Besides, I'm making it without eggs, so it can be an offering when we pray.”

“I don’t believe in God.”

“And I don’t believe in disrespecting traditions.”

“You’re an annoying idiot.”

“Nice comeback, dickhead.”

“You’d deny your girlfriend some sweet treats?” She purses her lips.

“I got some sweet treats right here,” he whispers, grabbing her hips and pulling her to the edge of the marble counter.

Their kisses start slow, gentle and brief; Layla nips his bottom lip, making him giggle. She grabs his chin and slowly licks into his mouth. Harry responds by kneading her ass and grinding his bulge against the warmth between her thighs. He pants into her mouth, chest heaving with every breath he takes. Layla crosses her ankles around his hips, drawing his body closer, mewling at the way he suckles at the sweet spot of her neck.

The loud ring from Harry’s phone makes them jump apart. Harry mutters a curse as he silences the device, grabbing the now set crust from the fridge. “Stupid bloody phone,” he mumbles, adjusting his pants.

“Guess we both won’t have our sweet treats today,” Layla smirks.

////

Layla never imagined that she'd be celebrating a major festival away from home. She’d braced herself for the wave of homesickness since the minute she’d woken up. She was fully expecting to cry when she’d talked to her parents and grandparents. But it never came. She misses home, there was no doubt about that. But under the buttery streetlight, the sight in front of her warms her heart. Vasanth holding onto Abi’s hand guiding her to light up the fuse of a flower pot. Anne’s face glowing with a multitude of colours as the firework ignites. Earl holding a rocket, waiting his turn. Other Indian families dressed up, laughing as the colourful fire went off.

She feels more at ease when a familiar tattooed arm wraps around her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’ve got this look on your face,” Harry observes. They both hung back, refraining from the fireworks from parking with fireworks.

“I’m happy,” she says, gazing up at him adoringly.

“Hmm, you should be. Iniya deepavali nalvazthukal,” he tells her, slowly, stumbling over the unfamiliar syllables. He’d practised wishing her a ‘Happy Deepavali’ in Tamil all morning.

Layla’s jaw drops in surprise, eyes shining as she gets on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “இனிய தீபாவளி நல்வாழ்த்துக்கள் to you too, Harry.”

When he produces two long sparklers from behind his back, Layla looks up at him questioningly. He’d cared about the planet, she didn’t expect him to join in and she hadn’t burst crackers since her visit to the firecracker factory.

“Thought we’d light just the one in honour of our first Deepavali together,” he explains and she nods.

They joined the four in front of them, lighting up their sparklers with Earl’s, smiling when the crackling pop accompanies the golden hue. A perfect reflection of warmth and light they were feeling on the inside.

…

#six months #harry styles imagine #harry styles #indian!oc #camboy!harry #fishnets-fingers #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #blurb #sparklers stutters and sweet treats

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fishnets-fingers · 6 months

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Hello Everyone! This is masterlist #4 (June of 2023!) for the all fics I have reblogged on this side blog I hold super close to me. Remember to leave feedback and reblog all the writings below!

Also, a huge thank you to all the writers mentioned, I adore you so very much and I hope you keep writing for yourselves <3

••• JUNE •••

Valentine's Day | Y/N receives a special candy gram on Valentine’s Day. - @nationalharryleague

French Fries | Harry kept glancing at her as he drove. “M’sorry about our date,” he whispered. “I don’t know what you’re apologizing for,” she shrugged and reached over to squeeze his arm while he held the steering wheel. “I had a lovely time.” - @1d1195

Shy | Close | Motherly Love | Don't Leave Me | Mother's Day | ♡ When Harry runs into a perfect stranger at a supermarket, he doesn’t know what to expect. After having been single for over a year and raising Amelia without a mother, dating somebody new feels impossible… that is, until she wins over the heart of his daughter. - @harry-writings

Vogue Beauty Secrets | Actress!Y/N does the Vogue Beauty Secrets video, and Harry decides to help. - @astranva

Gonna be Better in the Morning | Jeff and reader get into a fight and Harry takes Jeff's side. (As always, there is a happy ending with lots of comforts) - @harryhoney-bee

Work of Art | A cute little fluffy artist!Harry piece with a hint of angst! - @nationalharryleague

Update | The Best Present | Harry falls for a mysterious girl from YouTube. - @watchmegetobsessed

When The Levee Breaks | You're a waitress and Harry is being stood up. - @songbirdstyles

Playball | ♡ The reader owns a bakery and hates baseball, but what happens when her town’s bigshot MLB player walks into her bakery and she finds herself catching feelings unaware of his occupation? - @writingsbymarie

The Con Artist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | ♡ You're a wanted criminal and when Harry Styles, the detective on the case, finally catches up to you- he finds it difficult to resist your charms. - @gurugirl

Baby Steps | You’re Harry’s son's therapist, and he isn’t the only one you end up helping. - @enthusiasticharry

Mute | ♡♡ Where Harry doesn’t talk and falls in love with Y/n. - @harry-writings

Score and Smash | In which their university holds an annual boy vs girl football match, the highly anticipated game of the year has arrived and Harry and Y/N hate each other just as equally until Y/N is under Harry.

Quid Pro Quo | Another lawyer!Harry. Technically six years before this piece. Enemies to lovers with plenty of angst! - @talesofstyles

Six Months (Part 23) | ♡ Layla desperately needs a vacation and her Aunt and Uncle come to her rescue. So, at twenty two, she packs her bag and jets off to America. Harry took a break from education and is now a full fledged content creator on OnlyFans. At twenty, he makes more money than almost all of his friends. What ensues when these two meet and realise the windows in their rooms face each other? How will paper airplanes bring them closer together? - @fishnets-fingers

2022 : Masterlist #1 , #2 , #3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. 2023 : Masterlist #1, 2, 3 (June masterlist would be continued in the next list!)

My official writing account in case you'd like to check out my fics too: @0oolookitsme :)

#thank you!!!!

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