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fishnets-fingers · 5 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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0oolookitsme · 1 year

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We’ll also Sit there, One Day.

Type- One-Shoty Blurb

Verse- Just Hails <3 [@fishnets-fingers series: Six Months' characters: Harry (MMC) and Layla (FMC)]

Word Count- 1.9k

Warnings- Tooth rotting fluff and nothing else.

A/N- @fishnets-fingers HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUEEN!! I HOPE THAT YOU LIKE THIS <3

Also, majority of the credits go to @eloquentree for helping me out with this fic. It was so shitty but she's the one who turned it into something readable with her pretty writing style and ideas <3

The sun was streaming when he woke up and despite it irritating him, he felt content because of the person he was lying next to.

Turning around to face her, his arm went over her stomach and snaked around her waist. With a strong tug, he pulled her towards with ease, sighing as she curled further into him. A warm smile pulled up on his face as he shifted a little for her to be more comfortable, laughing slightly when she whined at the loss of contact for a nanosecond.

"Why are you so bloody cold?" he asked her, voice muffled as he dug his face into the pillow. A weak chuckle escaped past his lips again when she muttered absolute rubbish, probably cursing him out for a reason he had yet to know. Pulling away from her slightly, he adjusted a little so that the side of his head was in his palm while his elbow rested on the pillow. Tracing the side of her face, he asked her to repeat in his groggy voice.

"Ah c'mon— I said the blanket fell off!" She exclaimed, cuddling furthermore into his side to not let any warmth not be absorbed by her.

Harry raised his head a little to see the blanket had indeed fallen down from her side of the bed. Groaning slightly as he tried to pick it up, he was back in place when she groaned under half his weight on her body.

"Any plans of getting out of bed today? Hmm?" He asked as he ran his hand through her hair, pulling her as close to him as possible.

"When do you ever want to?" He teased when she hummed in denial, making her shove his chest slightly, her eyes opening slightly to glare at him half-heartedly.

"Go back to sleep, Satan," Layla grumbled— clearly giving away that she's dead serious and meant what she said. Chuckling, he squishes her cheeks, kissing her pout lightly— also almost getting smacked for that.

"Can't do that Lails. Do you not remember about the ceremony?" He asks her alongside cautiously teasing her, knowing very well she doesn't remember her own name when she's half awake.

But this? Oh, this caused her eyes to snap open, horror painting her face as she faced him completely- eyes wide and movements frantic.

"Holy shit, Harry- get the fuck up. We're gonna be late!" She exclaimed while panicking, throwing the blanket off of her body and rummaging around to find her slippers.

As soon as the slippers were found, she made a run for the bathroom— almost slipping on the rug that decorated the room, making harry yell at her to be more careful. Shouting for him to 'get the fuck up' once more, she slammed the door and harry could hear her working around inside.

One might say that she's being a little too dramatic for panicking so bad, but seriously in her defense, it's all for the good. She'll have to take a long shower to rub soap all over her body and wash her hair and then dry it which takes her forever; all of that after brushing her teeth perfectly and before she even sits down to do her makeup—trust her when she says that her brows are a bitch, or maybe her hands are. So, it was a safe bet to say that she needed time if she was planning on making it to the ceremony.

After taking a shower, time seemed to pass in a blur and all Layla could remember was yelling at Harry to get ready, doing her makeup, yelling at Harry, styling her outfit, yelling at Harry, making it down the lobby and yelling at Harry once again.

After making it to the safety of their car, she sighed and faced him, her face twisting into a frown.

"One of these days, I'll break the sound barrier," Layla grumbled, fastening her seatbelt and staring right ahead.

"I, wholeheartedly believe you can do that," Harry mused, looking at her with a shit-eating grin that had her glaring at him while backing out of the garage.

"Focus on the road, please," she requested, turning away to see the scenery pass her by as the car drove to the venue.

"Whatever you say, love," Harry flashed her a smile before turning back and focusing on driving. A minute passed before Harry felt a hand intertwine with his. He didn't have to look at her to know that she wasn't mad at him and sighed, placing a featherlight kiss on the back of it.

Almost an hour passed before Harry pulled up to the venue and the couple got out, walking towards where the rest of the family and hamish crowd was.

“What’s the ceremony called again?” Harry asked for the fifth time since they have arrived. He knows he’s getting himself worked up for no reason at all, he knows everyone here and vice versa but still, what if someone asked him something he doesn’t know? They’d definitely think he doesn’t know anything about their culture and wouldn’t support Layla if she were to say yes for marrying him.

Layla sighed and intertwined her hand with his once again and started walking, bumping her shoulder with his every once in a while, as he walked right beside her.

"It’s called ‘panda kaal muhurtham'. In South-Indian culture, once the wedding is finalized, the bride and the groom’s families offer their prayers to their deity and seek blessings for a successful marriage and protection of the couple,'' she looked at him and continued. “It’s usually held the day before the wedding."

By the way she didn't try to calm him down tells him that she's just as nervous as him and is planning onto getting everything perfectly right- and he'll make sure that it goes just like that.

His mouth formed an ‘oh’ and before he could add anything else, her name was called from behind, asking to come inside before informing her that the ceremony had begun.

Both of them inhaled and exhaled deeply together and made eye contact, smiling afterwards and leaned in to share a short but sweet kiss. Layla swayed their interlocked hands back and forth and continued with the walk leading to the interior of the temple, with Harry on her right side.

A divine and strong fragrance of multiple incense sticks filled their nostrils as they stopped right under the hanging bells, having a perfect view of the bride and the groom from there itself... well yes, Layla did struggle a bit, but Harry exchanged spots so that she can see better while still beside him.

The older ladies situated themselves at the front as the priest started with some small chants.

With every chant ending, the couple were asked to throw a mixture of camphor and such materials to support the small fire in continuing its burning. With each bit of it being thrown in the burning wood which had been wettened by ghee to light up a fire easily, the burning sensation in everyone’s eyes also increased.

The priest announced the start of the aarti, making everyone inside stand up and shuffle a little closer. They let the professional start and joined him slowly and slowly, the sound of them singing echoing inside while the ones who were towards the exit also gathered up to create some warmth when a cold breeze flew across.

Harry carefully listened and just prayed for the couple in his own language and absent-mindedly leaned a little to his side as to focus on Layla’s voice more than on others.

It might not be the best sound he had heard, but it's his favourite and comfort.

Slowly, his mind wandered back to the day he had seen her dancing while cleaning, listening to a song in a language he wasn't very aware of. He remembered standing there and watching her through the window, feeling like joining her— even if it meant he'd have to clean with her.

He slightly remembered the tune of the song and as he tries to catch up with it, something doesn't fit right. There are two tunes clashing with each other, making him jump when he opens his eyes to the clanging sound of bells. The aarti was over now and there were a few people who were standing in a crew to ring the bell.

A smile stretches out on his plump lips when he sees a frustrated kid jumping and trying to reach the bell, getting chirpy again as his mum picks him up to help him.

"Seems like you gave many blessings, eh?" Layla asked as she dumped some cut up fruits into his palm, mumbling 'prashad' when his facials showed doubt about it.

He smiled at her, slightly embarrassed of the fact that he got a little carried away. "You look beautiful today, did I tell you that?"

"About a hundred times, yeah," she answers, faking a nonchalant behaviour.

Fixing a pointed look at her, he bumps her hip with his.

"Doesn't give you the pass to not appreciate it when i say it for the hundred and one-th time, though," he managed to let out with a mouthful of juicy fruits.

People started scattering away and the weather seemed to be getting windier and colder. It might rain or storm, he heard someone say from behind.

"Harry? Why don't you come back to our house and have lunch there only?" Layla's dad asks, placing his hand on his shoulders to turn him around and walk with him.

"oh— uh I'd really appreciate that, sir," Harry stuttered and he hates himself for that. "I also really like your footwear, by the way— I was searching out for a chance to get to you and say that."

It seemed like he hit the spot because the man let out a hearty laugh, which was quite loud but still ...disciplined. "Thank you, child. They are very old now, but I love them just the same. My wife gifted it to me many-many years back... I'm surprised they even fit now," he ended with a hoarse chuckle.

"Appa! Do you have any idea what's cooked for breakfast back at home?" Layla came running from behind- someone probably asked her to do this as there are two-three of her cousins who seem quite nervous for some reason, which surprises Harry as he has always seen them confident and chirpy. They still looked chirpy, but an essence of nervousness didn't go un-read by his eyes. "I'm really hungry!" She continued.

The old yet handsome man beside Harry cleared his throat, stopping to turn around only to tell her 'no' with a smile on his face and watch her whine.

Harry was grateful for her arrival though, because with a pat to his shoulders, he left him with his niece and nephews.

"Hey, Lails?" He asked for her attention after making sure no one but them was lingering around.

"Yep?"

"We'll also sit there one day," he tells her while a shy smile lays out slowly on his pink lips.

Although harry didn't specify where, Layla immediately knew. She looked around to see if anyone stuck around, just to double check and on finding the area empty of eyes, immediately locked her arms around his neck to pull him down.

The moment their lips connected it was as if that's the only place their lips are supposed to be, that's their only destination- on each other's lips.

It was as if in that very moment, it got locked in their destinies that their knots will be tied with each other only.

THANK YOU FOR READING THIS HEHEH NOW GO AND READ SIX MONTHS BY @fishnets-fingers <33333

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles ff #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x OC #harry styles x indian!oc #harry styles x indian!y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #camboy!harry

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overallrry · 1 year

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harry styles “camboy” fics

✩ all credit to the authors ✩

series

gravity (moonchildstyles)

full story masterlist

y/n hated physics but harry loved it, but both of them have a couple of secrets

online (missluckycharms)

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Harry is a camboy, Y/N is a camgirl and they love each other’s online personas only.

teachers pet (jarofstyles)

1 2

harry is worried about his student y/n for multiple reasons or professor!harry

bad habits (h-styles-babes)

full story masterlist

Vivian may or may not be subscribed to a male cam model in order to get her rocks off once in a while. And she may or may not meet a new boy that just might fill her need in person. And they may or may not be the same person. Who knows, really?

one shots

hes-writer

routine

harrys-titties

Y/N loves her best friend, and Harry’s just good in front of a camera, isn’t he?

stylesharrys

hidden videos

haroldloverboy

camgirl y/n

havethetimeofyourstyles

louder on set

teaspoon-full-of-sugar

edge

harrywritingsbyme

a show

missluckycharms

sub camboy!harry

#camboy harry styles #camboy!harry #harry styles x camgirl y/n #harry styles fic recs #harry styles

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moonchildstyles · 4 days

Note

gravity blurb where one day flower is sick and doesn’t show up to physics & she hadnt told harry she wouldn’t be coming to class and isnt answering her texts so he skips class to come make sure shes ok and take care of her ?? :,)

wordcount: 3.9k+

—————

Peeling her eyes open, (Y/N) winced at the stream of sunlight filtering into her room. She could feel a cold sweat on the back of her neck, her baby hairs sticking to her skin. Her bed was too hot but her body felt cold, the sun too bright in her eyes, and the quiet of the television on the other side of her wall entirely too loud.

The headache she'd fallen asleep with had definitely taken a turn, she figured.

Groaning—something that made her realize her throat was now sore as well—she tossed in her bed, reaching towards the offending curtain and attempting to tug it closed. Her limbs ached with every move, her bones seemingly creaking beneath the exhausted muscle. If not for how much she hated the light in her eyes and was already hot enough without the sun on her face, she would have given up on the mission just from how much her body ached.

In the back of her mind, as she flopped back onto her bed, she knew she had classes today. If she had the mind to do so, she would have checked the time, seeing just how long she had to get ready before she would have to be on her way, but there was no way she was going to force herself to open her eyes once more after the reprieve of closing them.

She should probably text Harry, she thought. If she remembered what day it was, she most likely had physics this afternoon, and there was no way she was going to make it in this state.

Despite how close her phone was, the idea of reaching for it on the side table was enough to have her exhausted again. She could sleep a little before texting him, she figured, turning in her bed with her eyes heavily shut. She'd wake up soon, and if she still feels this rough, she'll let him know she wouldn't make it to class today.

Just a couple more hours.

With that though, (Y/N) fell asleep once more.

—————

With an iced matcha in one hand and a hot black coffee in the other, Harry made it to Stanfill's class to be one of the first in the auditorium—right on schedule.

He nodded a small smile towards the professor, scaling the stairs up to his and (Y/N)'s unofficial-official spots. He had a feeling she would be traipsing in just before Stanfill locked the door for lecture. She hadn't texted him at all this morning—something she never did unless she was more than busy.

There was a high chance she'd spent the majority of last night working on an essay she had due tonight, and, if he knew his flower, she most likely skipped her morning classes in favor of sleeping off the late night. As long as she made it to physics, he'd make sure to make up the rest of the day for her.

Taking his time to set up his station, Harry periodically checked the double doors (Y/N) usually came through, waiting to see a familiar flash of her hair or one of the many sweaters she'd begun stealing from him through the last months. He pretended to fiddle with his highlighters and notebooks as if he wasn't disappointed when every swing of the doors revealed everyone but (Y/N).

It wasn't until Stanfill had wheeled out his projector and the auditorium was full of idle chatter and the shuffling of students that Harry became concerned. Though she cut it close at times, (Y/N) was never late for any of her courses—and she would let him know if something came up.

That worry only intensified when he saw Professor Stanfill crossed the room and spun the lock on the double doors while the seat beside Harry stayed empty.

Despite his professor whirring to life at the head of the room, speaking with his robotic dialect about today's concept, Harry pulled out his phone. He anticipated seeing a missed message from (Y/N), something to indicate that there was a reason she'd had to skip for the day. Instead, he saw nothing—only the Lock Screen of the pair of them together, tucked in a booth at Wanda's.

No missed calls or waiting messages.

Pulling open her text thread as quick as he could without attracting Stanfill's attention, Harry typed out a quick message before firing it off:

Hey, love. Class started and you're not here, I wanted to see if everything was alright. Stanfill locked the doors, but I can sneak you in if you need.

While he wasn't sure if he was expecting any kind of response when he hadn't heard from her today anyway, Harry's shoulders still fell when the read receipt was left on delivered.

Glancing up, he saw the slides at the front of the class beginning to shift, showing off decades old formatting from Stanfilll's archives. Harry felt antsy.

He wanted to focus on the lecture, continue formatting and adding to his pristine notes, but there was no way he could settle down at the moment.

(Y/N) never did this. While it wasn't odd that she was too busy with her morning courses to reach out to him, there was no way she wouldn't have let him know if she wasn't going to be in class.

Fitting his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry's worry grew.

There were plenty of reasons why she wouldn't be able to reach out, if he let his brain branch out that far. For all he knew, there were plenty of terrible reasons why she wasn't answering her phone or in class with him. It was enough to have him biting down hard on his lip and tapping his foot on the floor.

He could text her again, he decided. Just another to possibly grab her attention. Just from the amount of times he'd studied with her, she could have lost herself in an essay at the library.

Maybe.

Just as he began to type out a follow up message in his unanswered thread, a monotone voice echoed through the room, calling his name.

"Mr. Styles, is there something more important than today's lecture on your cell phone you would like to share with the class? I think we would all be interested."

Whipping his head up, glasses sliding down his nose, Harry spotted the eyes of his classmates and his professor trained on him. He wanted to be embarrassed, feeling all of that attention when he hadn't asked for it himself.

But, there were more important things on his mind.

"No thank you, sir," Harry mumbled, just loud enough for his professor to hear, "I actually have to leave for an emergency. Sorry to interrupt."

Shoveling all of his things into his bag, Harry didn't linger in the space, ignoring whatever Stanfill was saying in his monotone syllables. Stepping out into the main corridor, his phone was up to his ear in an instant.

"Hello?" Naomi, (Y/N)'s roommate, greeted.

"Hi, Ny," Harry muttered, heading towards the student lot he'd parked in, "Is (Y/N) home? Or with you?"

"Oh, yeah," Naomi chirped, "I stayed home with her after I checked on her this morning. She's been a little bit out of it, but did she ask you if you could bring home some notes for her?"

Harry stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, a pinch to his brow. "What?"

A beat passed.

"Have you talked to her today?" Ny asked, finally.

"No. I texted her this morning, but I figured she was busy. Our physics class jus' started, and she never came, so..."

"I'm sorry," she said, "She was out of it this morning, but she said she was going to call you later, so I didn't ask after she fell asleep again. But, she's sick—she fell asleep with a headache and woke up with a fever. She's been asleep most of the day, but I think she's got the flu or something."

Naomi's explanation tamped down one section of Harry's worries, only to raise another. His steps became paces, his free hand running through his hair.

"Is she okay?" he asked, already picturing her prone form alone in her bed, pale and withering.

"I think so," Ny shared, a drawling muse to her voice, "She hasn't left her room much, but I've checked on her when I can. She doesn't really have a voice, but as long as she keeps on top of her medicine, she's able to break her fever and sleep."

Curling his fingers around the roots of his curls, he looked to his feet. "Do—Is there—Does she need anything?"

Ny sighed through the receiver. "I've been trying to make her eat, but nothing sounds good or she just wants to sleep instead."

"Okay," he sounded, nodding his head despite Naomi being unable to see him, "Okay, I can do that. I-I don't have any of our notes, but I can bring her some food if that's okay. Do—Would she be alright with me coming by?"

This time, when she spoke, Harry could hear a smile in her voice, "I think she'd really like that, Harry. I don't know if she'll make any good conversation today, but I'm sure she'll be happy to see you anyway."

A plan was beginning to stitch together then, for Harry. He had some soup he could make at home and bring to her apartment—something warm and not too heavy if she needed something easy for the time being. Was there anything he needed to pick up before he headed over? He was sure there was an extra fluffy blanket she wouldn't mind adding to the collection on her bed.

"Okay," Harry repeated once more, "I've got to grab a couple of things, but I can be over in a few hours if that's alright."

"That's perfect," Naomi encouraged him, "Just text me when you're here and I can let you in. I'll let (Y/N) know to give you a call when she wakes up—if she can, anyway."

While he didn't enjoy hearing that his flower might feel too weak to even place a short call to him, Harry felt soothed knowing that while he was worried about her illness, she had Naomi there to take care of her.

Their goodbyes were quick, Harry already going through the recipe for the soup he had in mind for her, a list coming together for his quick stop at the shops.

Beelining to his car, he typed out a quick message before he was swept up in his plans.

Just called Naomi. She told me you're sick, and have been sleeping this morning. I'm coming by with some soup and medicine for you, flower. I'm sorry I didn't realize, but I'll see you soon.

Love you so much.

He didn't think twice before he pulled out of the student parking lot, Stanfill's lecture and his missed notes left behind.

—————

The apartment was quiet when Ny let him in, Harry suddenly cautious of the crinkling of his bag.

"Hi," he greeted, his voice low to match the volume of the television in the living room, "Thanks for letting me up."

"Oh, yeah, of course," Naomi smiled, locking the door behind him while he kicked off his shoes, "Do you need help with any of your stuff?"

Following her eyes to the bag in his hand, he held a swift debate in his head. While he didn't want to ask anything more of (Y/N)'s roommate after invading her home and pestering her about (Y/N), he also didn't really want to stay away for much longer.

"Actually," he started, taking out the Tupperware container of soup he'd tossed together back at his own place before heading over, "Would y'heat this up, please? Jus' on the stove, or whatever's easiest for you."

Naomi's features softened as she took the container from Harry's hands. "Yeah, I can do that," she smiled, "This is for (Y/N)?"

"Yeah," he murmured, rubbing his knuckle against the tip of his nose, "'S my mum's recipe—she used to make it when I was little and sick from school."

An exaggerated pout crossed Naomi's face, her expression creased and warm as she looked up at Harry with her fingers around the container as if it were a velvet box of jewels. "That is so sweet, Harry," she bubbled, "She's going to love this."

"I hope," he laughed, inching towards the hallway where (Y/N)'s door awaited, "Let me know if y'need help or anything."

Ny only waved him off, urging him to her friend's room while she padded through the kitchen.

Hyper aware of the plastic bag on his wrist, Harry carefully made his way into (Y/N)'s bedroom. The space was silent as he crossed the threshold, her curtains cinched tightly shut with a pile of blankets covering the bed. A tissue box was placed on her bedside table next to a half finished bottle of water and her charging phone. While he couldn't spot her through her cocoon of quilts, he could hear a slight wheezing with every breath she took.

"(Y/N)?" he murmured, voice just above a whisper as he slowly approached her bedside.

No response.

"(Y/N), love?" he tried again, spotting her head through the layers of blankets as he drew closer. Even in sleep, she looked tired, eyes heavy with circles underneath and her mouth dropped in a gape. Given the pile of tissues at her bedside, he wasn't surprised to catch the sides of her nose looking chapped.

Instead of another attempt at catching her attention, he settled for unpacking his bag of treats for her, including a soft stuffed cow he hoped she could find comfort in. A reup of her medicine bottle was placed on her table, a nasal stick to help clear her sinuses with a sniff of the menthol scent, and a bottle of cranberry juice in hopes of giving her some vitamin C. When she woke, he'd show her what he brought, but in the meantime he'd settle for climbing in beside her.

(Y/N) didn't even stir when he cuddled in at her side, body above the blankets though he still fit his limbs around her form. As much as he hated hearing the wheeze of her lungs, and the slight shivers that still ran down her spine despite her cocoon, there was a layer of relief having her back in his arms. He hadn't realized how worried he'd been back in the lecture hall until he could now see she was just fine—albeit a bit sniffly and fighting an off-and-on fever. A tension in his muscles had evaporated by the time he had her cradled into him as best he could through the downy blankets.

He'd have to text Naomi that (Y/N) was still sleeping, the soup could wait. He'd give himself a moment first, though.

—————

"(Y/N), flower, are y'waking up?"

Feeling her features twist, annoyed and hurt that someone would shout so close to her ear like that, (Y/N) only clenched her eyes shut tighter.

A breathy laugh followed right after, filling the quiet of her head with something a little sweeter, even if it was uninvited.

Whatever it was that was bothering her, she chose to ignore it, instead rolling under her blankets and giving them her back. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to get the hint, instead running a hand through her tangled hair, coaxing her to stay awake despite her best efforts.

"You've been asleep for a while, love. I want y'to wake up and at least take some medicine," the soothing force tried again, tone matching their gentle touch, "I even brought y'some soup, if y'wanted to eat."

The idea of exerting the kind of energy required to eat was enough to have (Y/N)'s body feeling heavy, sinking into the mattress. "Don't want to."

"I know," he crooned, the velvet of the faceless voice finally conjuring up a vision of a bespectacled Harry. (Y/N) wanted to shift, see what cardigan he had on today, but there was no way she could roll over again. She didn't have that kind of energy. "Naomi said y'haven't eaten since this morning, flower. I think you'll feel a little better if you at least have a bowl."

"No," she whined, shaking her head as she attempted to burrow that much deeper on her blanket cave. "You're being too loud, Harry."

Another plume of laughter sounded in her room, though it wasn't quite as uninvited as before, now knowing it was from her boyfriend.

"Okay," he relented, voice decidedly softer than just a moment before, "We'll eat a little later, but you've got to take some medicine. I brought something that should help clear your nose out, too."

(Y/N) hadn't even realized she wasn't able to breathe out of her nose until he mentioned that, her throat suddenly dry along with her lips. Through her sleep-addled, fever-drenched brain, she could only imagine just how long she'd been fast asleep with her mouth wide open, only worsening the swollen throat she'd woken up with.

The idea of a small reprieve was enough to have her tossing under her blankets to face him. Peeling her eyes open, Harry was crouched at her bedside, gentle smile on his face with a dreamy vignette framed around him.

"Morning," he teased, "I missed you today."

"Sorry," she croaked, leaning into the warmth of his hand when he pressed his palm to her forehead. She pretended not to notice when he cringed back after a moment.

"Don't need to be sorry," he murmured, a pinch settling between his brows as he reached towards a pill bottle on her table, "'M sorry y'don't feel good, flower. What happened?"

"I don't know," she said, voice slow and drawling even to her own ears, "I thought I had a migraine last night, and then I woke up this morning, and yeah."

Despite promising to stay awake long enough to take some medicine and sniff whatever it was that would clear her sinuses, the longer Harry fiddled with the bottle, the more of an opportunity she had to sleep instead. He'd wake her if he needed her, she decided.

"Don't go to sleep, (Y/N)."

She frowned at his scolding.

"Don't make that face, love," he laughed, "Sit up for me."

Her frown only deepened.

If he said anything more in response, she didn't hear him. Instead she felt the mattress dip around her, Harry crawling up beside her.

Slipping an arm underneath her, he helped her shift under the pile of blankets shrouding her form. (Y/N) let out a whine, unhappy with being moved from the wam imprint she'd left in her bedding.

"Don't be like that, flower," he mused, "Jus' want to help you—your fever is making me nervous."

Instead of giving any kind of answer, (Y/N) only twisted in his arms, cuddling up to the warmth of his chest. She turned into him, shedding some layers of blanket only to lean into his warmth that much more. He hooked his arm around her middle, supporting her with his forearm around her back and his hand conforming to the dip of her waist. Laying her head on his shoulder, she curled her hands into the knit of his top. If he had planned on climbing out after helping with her medicine, that was definitely no longer an option with the way she clung to him.

"Here," he offered, prompting her to crack open her eyes once more to see a pair of coated pills in his hand for her, "I've got some water for you, too."

There was a concerted amount of effort that came with lifting her hand to take the medicine from him, enough to have Harry squeezing his arm around her when he saw how much concentration it took.

As soon as she popped the pills in her mouth, Harry passed along the bottle of water he had at his side, unable to keep himself from helping her hold the weight after seeing her previous struggle. She chugged down the rest of the bottle then, realizing just how thirsty she was, her breathing coming out in pants by the time she pulled the container from her mouth.

"Want more?" he asked, reaching for another bottle he had positioned on the bedside table.

"No, no," she shook her head, already slumping against him once more with shuttered eyes, "Tired."

This time he didn't laugh or seem amused at all at her mumbling. Harry only tugged her tighter to his side, his free hand pulling up one of her blankets to cover her up to her shoulder. "I know, flower," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "Y'sure y'don't want to eat right now?"

"Just want to sleep," she said, shaking her head against his shoulder.

"Go to sleep, love," he crooned, "I'll be here when y'wake up."

Though it wasn't hard to stay asleep, it was hard for (Y/N) to fall asleep with the ache in her body and the pressure in her head. She needed an extra push, something to lull her to the edge.

"How long have you been here?" she asked, hoping Harry would unwittingly put her to sleep with the melody of his voice.

"Only a few hours," he told her, shifting until she was laid atop his chest as he reclined into the pile of pillows behind them, "After y'didn't come to Stanfill's, I called Naomi."

"In the middle of class?" she blanched, attempting to picture Harry being so disruptive in the middle of lecture.

She felt his laugh more than heard it, rumbling from his chest underneath her. "No, I stepped out before I called."

"And he let you go back in?"

Flexing his hand on her waist, she could feel him shake his head before planting a kiss to the crown of hers. The vibrations of his voice accompanied by the soft of his touch was already working on her, distracting from the ache in her muscles enough to stretch closer to the edge of sleep. "I don't know—I didn't really stay to find out."

"Wait," (Y/N) drawled, her features pinching, "Did you skip?"

"I suppose y'could call it that; I did go, I jus' left early."

"Harry," she whined, elongating the syllables of his name, "Why would you do that? You love physics."

"Because," he started, an affectionate current to his tone, "I wanted to see you. I was worried about you, love. You've never jus' disappeared on me before like that—I wanted to make sure y'were alright."

"But," she attempted to fight, though she didn't have much organization to her thoughts, "It's physics."

"I know," he crooned, a smile audible in his voice, "And you're you. I can make up the notes another day, but I can't make up another day with you, can I?"

It was a sweet sentiment, enough to have her softening that much more. If she'd had the energy, she may have cried, instead opting to burrow closer to him.

"I love you," she blubbered, her words barely decipherable given her thick throat.

"I love you too, flower," he reciprocated, tender notes to his voice, "Go to sleep, I've got you."

That was all the permission she needed to drift off, no doubt that Harry would keep his promise.

Maybe it was the medicine beginning to kick in or the warmth of Harry's hold, but (Y/N) swore she might already be beginning to feel better.

—————

thank you so much for requesting nad taking the time to read this! So sorry if theres any mistakes I missed!!! if theres any ideas or requests you have pleaseeeee send them in :)

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jawllines · 7 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/jawllines/728222552259952640/wait-pt-4-tmrrw-omg-livie-youre-the-bestest?source=share TAKE YOUR TIME SWEETS!!!! WE CAN WAIT A FEW MORE DAYS :DD

okAYYYYY SO SO SOOO I THINK WE'RE GONNA BE POSTING ON EITHER FRIDAY OR SATURDAY!! I GOT VERY FAR BUT THERES STILL SOME STUFF THAT NEEDS TO HAPPEN SO SINCE I FEEL BAD ILL GIVE YOU GUYS A SMUTTY SNEAKIE DOES THAT SOUND GOOD!!

#PATREON YOU'RE GONNA BE GETTING CAMBOY HARRY IN A COUPLE OF HOURS

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sebastianstansqueen · 2 years

Text

He Rescues Her Right Back 2

A/N: I just finished writing this part, I hope you guys like it! As always Feedback is always appreciated if you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 2,696

Warnings: Fluff, little angst, fear of highest, and I think that's it? I missed any thing tell me pleas!

Masterlist // Taglist open // Series Masterlist

Tags: @cherryblossomskye - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond - @leyannrae - @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @nik2writes - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel -

The next morning you were abruptly woken by a phone call from your production team representative, you walked into the living room leaving Bucky be in bed. “Hello?” You asked, Alex started to explain what was going on, you paced back and forth while the phone call continued on.

Bucky walked in while you were on another phone call, but had a delicious breakfast laid out on the kitchen island, you sat at one of the stools, on the phone. “Okay, so what we need to do is move the shoot day to the thirtieth so that I can be there to monitor what's happening.” You spoke quickly, the conversation continued until your assistant had to go and help someone, you looked up at Bucky. “Morning.”

“I see you already got a start.” He smirked as he chewed on a piece of toast, pouring a glass of champagne. “So when is the uber coming?”

You sighed. “Fuck, I forgot.” You rolled your eyes at yourself.

“Hey look it’s alright, I can get one of my roommates to come get me.” He shrugged, continuing to get food off the plates.

Then your phone rang, it was Val. “Hey, so are you still planning on coming to the club thing this afternoon after your meetings?” She asked.

“Yeah, I mean some important clientele are going to be there.” You told her. Bucky stood up. “I’m gonna go wash up before I go.” He whispered as you nodded at what he said.

You walked away back to the bedroom to get ready. “Look Y/n, I don't like you going by yourself, you should have a date. I have a lot of hot guy friends. I could find you someone.”

You heard a low hum from the bathroom, walking in finding Bucky in the shower wearing a pair of airpods, you watched as he stood in the shower slightly dancing to the song. “No, I have someone in mind, I gotta go.” You hung up, then walked into the bathroom taking off the white fluffy robe you wore all morning, you got into the shower with Bucky, he finally came back to the real world taking out the earbuds. “I was wondering would you stay a few days?” You asked.

“What for?” He asked you.

You sighed. “I have a full week of things to do, and my friend and lawyer, Val, thinks I should have a date for them, think of it as a uh business proposition, and I’ll pay you for every night you stay.”

Bucky nodded. “Okay, yeah that’s alright, sounds great.” He smiled.

“So uh ballpark me how much is it gonna cost for the full week excluding tonight?” You asked, looking fully confident with your hands on your nude hips.

“8,000.” He stated.

“8,000?” You scoffed.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You're asking for days too, so what does your math put you at?”

“Exact math would be, about 2,700.” You stated.

“Fine 5,000.” He huffed out.

You shook your head. “3,000.”

“6,000.” He went first. “4,000.” You shot back “7,000.” He stated.

You smirked.“Deal.”

“Holy shit!” He laughed.

You smiled laughing with the man.“Alright, I gotta get ready, and I’m gonna leave you some money to get a suit and some nice clothes, along with the money from last night.” You told him, before getting out.

You walked into the closet that you had all the clothes you packed, you chose a maroon shirt and gray pants to wear for the majority of the day. Up until you had to go to the country club thing that afternoon, you walked into the living room finding Bucky in the same clothes as the night prior, you walked over and handed him a wad of cash. “Here, as payment and for clothes.” You smiled at him.

“Jesus!” Bucky exclaimed at the thick wad. “I mean yeah I get three hundred an hour and that adds to like 1200-1800 up but there's gotta be like I dunno like 3,700$?”

You laughed. “4,266 exact, 2,4oo for the night, and 1,866 for clothes and a nice suit. I did my math and got the money this morning, I’ve gotta go but I’ll be back later.” You went to the elevator to head down.

“I would have stayed for 2700 you know.” Bucky spoke.

“And I would have paid 8,000.” You smirked just as the elevator doors closed in front of you.

Bucky was ecstatic at the deal, it was going to be worth it pulse he got new clothes basically for free, he headed down to the lobby walking towards the doors. “Sir.” He was stopped by a man. “One of the employees here last night told me you were up in Mis. Y/l/n's room last night with her look we uh don’t allow-”

“It’s alright, she and I are business partners.” He started walking away.

The man followed him. “If that’s what you wanna call it. Look sir, I’m gonna need you to leave, and don’t come back.”

“Look, you can call her and ask her.” Bucky changed direction’s heading to the front desk instead, the man left to call you, once there Bucky held the 2,400$. “Hey, uh my friend will be coming here while I’m gone to get it, will you give it to either Steve Rogers or Sam Willson.” The lady replied with a smile and a yes.

You were in a taxi figuring it would be the quickest way to your business brunch, when your phone rang. “Hello?” You asked.

“Hello, Mis. Y/l/n, this is Jarvis the l manager, there is a man here who says you are ‘business partners’.” He explained to you.

You nodded, sighing. “Uh yeah he’s James Barnes, he’s my current boyfriend we’re just trying to keep it under wraps right now, if he does need any help with anything, would you be willing to help?”

“Yes ma’am thank you for explaining, have a good day.” He replied before hanging up.

Bucky walked out of the hotel looking for a store, he walked into a random store and looked around, he walked up front to ask one of the women for help. “Hey uh i’m looking for a suit, like a really nice one.” He almost exaggerated.

The woman looked at him. “I’m sorry sir, I’m not quite sure we’re what you're looking for.”

“I-I mean you had men’s clothing up front I just assumed you would have suits.” He explained to her.

“We do, I just don’t think you’d have enough to get clothes from here.” She said judgingly.

“Whatever, just going to warn you, you just made a big mistake.” He warned before leaving once out of the store he walked away. After a few more failures he went back to the hotel empty handed, when walking in, Jarvis. “Look man now isn’t really the time.” Bucky told him.

“Mis. Y/l/n said to help you if you needed any and you looked a little long.” Jarvis said. “What can I do for you Mr. Barnes?” “I need a nice suit pulse some nicer clothing.” Bucky replied.

Jarvis nodded before dialing someone and talking to someone on one of the hotel's front desk phones, once off the phone, he walked over to Bucky. “Go to this address, my friend Maria will help you.”

Bucky left once again and got a taxi, the taxi pulled up to the nice building and Bucky paid the driver, before getting out, he walked into the building, when a strawberry blond woman walked up she looked maybe about fifty-sixty. “Hello, are you James?” She asked.

“Yeah, but just call me Bucky, are you Maria?” He asked, the woman nodded.

She smiled. “Let's find you some clothes.”

Later Bucky walked into the hotel once again, now wearing some of the clothes he bought, he rode up in the elevator to the room.

You were in a very heated phone call with a friend of yours who was also an associate, it calmed down. “It’s alright, okay, I’ll see you later today, bye.” The call ended, you turned to see Bucky standing there, in some of his new clothes, a white sweater shirt, along with gray pants similar to what you currently wore but less baggy and black loafers, the shirt defined your muscles, your eyes felt as though there was a trick being pulled on you.

“Do you like it?” He asked with a bit of hesitation.

You nodded. “Um y-yes I do like it, it looks goo-great.”

“What time are we going to the thing?” He asked, now smirking a little cocky knowing he made you flustered.

“Soon, I just gotta get dressed real quick, then we’ll leave, also we gotta drive the car again because I need to give it back to Val.” You explained, before heading towards the master bedroom.

“I’m driving, you scare me when you drive.” He called after you.

You laughed. “I was hoping you would.” Once in the master bedroom, you walked into the closet, pulled out a dress and shoes, kicked off your heels, then pulled the shirt over your head, and slid down your pants. You pulled on the black dress with the sheer sleeves, and the ankle boots on. You fixed your makeup so that it would match this outfit, it was a muted and natural look with lip gloss on your light pink lips, you walked out to the living room. Bucky looked up at you with a smile and you could see him taking you in. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Uh yeah.” He nodded, blinking a few times after staring.

The two of you rode down to the underground parking structure, Bucky put on his charm, he opened the passenger door for you, before you got in, and he followed getting in the driver seat, he started the nice car and started driving, putting the location in on the map on his phone, as he drove you looked at him. “So, I got the phone call from Mr. Jarvis, I’m not mad I promise, but in order to cover for you I said that we’re in a relationship and we’re just keeping it under wraps at the moment.”

Bucky smirked and side eyed at you. “I’m alright with that.” He said it slyly.

You rolled your eyes. “So, where did you get your clothes?”

“Jarvis helped me after a bunch of places turned me away, he had a friend help me choose it out.” He explained. “Um I did get a suit and this, but not much else.”

You nodded. “How about, tomorrow morning we go and get some other things for you and I, ‘take the morning off’.” You said with a quotation.

“What does that mean?” Bucky asked, confused.

You huffed a laugh. “We go get more clothes for ya’ and I’ll be there, but I will still be taking phone calls and stuff.”

“What? Y/n I really don’t need all this.” He said.

You nodded. “I know but I want to do this for you.” You smiled at him softly.

The two of you arrived at the club and parked, walking in, one of the older sons of a business partner, was playing polo in the background, Val came walking up. “Do you actually like this?” She asked about the men on the horses.

You side eyed her. “No, not really my sport, but whatever it’s the most entertaining thing here at the moment.”

“Really because that guy you brought seems to be the most entertaining to everyone else.” She arched her brow when looking at the man, you turned to see Bucky talking to a group of your friends, and you smiled.

“Excuse me, Y/n can I have a word.” The older man, about the age your father was, and you excused yourself from Val and followed the man. “How can I help you, Mr. Osborn?” You asked him with a polite smile.

“Well Mis. Y/l/n, I have a business proposition for you.” He offered as the two of you walking away from the group of people.

Bucky had gotten caught up in a conversation, while the person who he was speaking to spoke he looked up to try and find you, but you weren’t where you were before, he looked in different directions seeing you walking and talking with an older man, a cigarette between your soft lips, he excused himself walking towards you and the stranger.

“I would like to bring the companies together fifty fifty from both profits.” Normand spoke as you let the smoke slip though your lips.

“My lawyer Val could write up a contract, but first I’d like to know why would you want to combine?” You asked seriously.

“Because imagine what we could do bringing my scientist along with your engineers together, but what I also want to propose is no contract, I know you haven’t been able to find a partner as flexible as you need one to be, because I understand being work oriented, and so does my son, I was thinking what if you two marry one another to actually tie them together?” He offered.

You huffed. “Mr. Osborne, I and Harry have no common interest.”

“I mean your a large company owner, and he is learning to take over a large company and he-”

Bucky cut him off. “Hey, uh Y/n, people are looking for you.”

Osborne looked at Bucky. “Who is this Mis. Y/l/n?”

“I’m her boyfriend, I have been for a while now.” He lied to the stranger, having seen how right before he came up you looked uncomfortable. “I just couldn’t make it to the party yesterday because of an important meeting, James Barnes, now if you don’t mind my gal has some other important things she should get to.” He led you away.

Once far enough, you looked up at him with minimal irritation. “I had it under control.”

He arched his brow. “You did?” You nodded. “It didn’t look like that, what the hell was he saying to you?”

You huffed, more smoke coming out from your cigarette, in which Bucky took from between your lips and put it out, you glared up at him. “I was smoking th-” “No at the moment, besides I'm lookin’ out for ya.” He shrugged.

You rolled your eyes. “Anyways he was talking about a business deal, including me marrying his son.”

Bucky laughed. “Okay so now you think you're ready for marriage when you already don’t really know how to love people, and I thought you were smart, I’m joking you are, but thats a stupid idea as I see it, pluse isn’t he one of the guys on the horses?” You nodded. “Too snobby for you.”

The two of you got back to the hotel that night via a taxi, once in the room, you turned to Bucky. “Thank you I guess for pulling me away from the conversation, also there’s a dinner tomorrow, I did say a full week of stuff.”

“I know.” He smirked, he stretched. “Fuck I’m tiered, I’ll see you later.”

“Night.” You smiled at him.

Later you sat in a chair you brought from the living room looking at the night sky from afar sitting at the door of the balcony nursing a hard scotch, and a cigarette. Bucky came from behind you. “I thought you didn’t like heights.” He spoke up.

“As long as I don’t look forward or down, I’ll be fine.” You smiled at him, he walked onto the balcony and hiked himself up on the thick edge. “Please don’t.” You looked away out of fear.

“I’m fine.” He smirked, then got off seeing how discomforted you were by what he was doing. He kneeled in front of you, cupping your face. “Look I’m alright.”

You looked at him. “Never do that again.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck, in a hug.

“Come on, let me take you to bed.” He mumbled into your hair.

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certifiedtrashmouth · 1 year

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not writing my fic, or my requests, but a secret third thing (a self indulgent camboy!eddie x stripper!reader that will never see the light of day)

#the other night i simply got the idea while listening to cinema by harry styles with my bestie #this is between me and god (and bestie)#there wasn’t enough camboy!eddie content so… voila #i make it for myself <3

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daaydreamy · 7 months

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for the fans 😜

“come on, show the camera.” y/n whispered into harry’s ear, a shiver running down his spine. he completely forgot they were even recording, his thigh covering what was meant to be the main focus of the video. he slowly spread his legs once more and leaned back against y/n a little bit, stroking himself slowly while y/n’s fingers fucked in and out of him deeply.

“there we go.” she smiled, looking directly into the camera. harry was looking right into the camera too, with fucked out eyes, pink, wet lips that the watchers would surely be desperate to want when they post the video. he watched himself through the screen, watching her fingers go in and out of him slowly, feeling them curve up so she could tease that spot inside of him.

“fuck.” he groaned softly, his head tipping back against her shoulder when she rubbed the pads of her fingers against that sweet spot directly, having to fight back the urge to close his legs from the pleasure shooting up his body, his eyes squeezing shut tightly with high-pitched whines leaving his throat.

#[💭] thinking…#concepts of harry #sub!harry #camboy!harry

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fishnets-fingers · 1 year

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Six Months - Part Twenty Three

Summary - 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?

PAIRING - camboy!harry x indian!oc

a/n - happy happy birthday @0oolookitsme! this is such a special part and i hope it’s a good birthday surprise! thank you for loving the story and layla and harry as much as i do! as always, like and reblog. feed back is not only appreciated but much welcome. happy reading!

Word Count - 10.3 k

Warnings - so much fluff, a dash of angst, allusions to smut.

Masterpost (find previous parts here)

Harry’s comfortably buried under the pillow, the duvet snaked around his body, with one of his feet poking out the corner. Sleep always found him easy, but sleeping on Layla’s bed guarantees him a good night's sleep; something to do with the mattress toppers is what she chalked it up to when he’d told her but he thinks it has to do with the space being so inexplicably hers. He particularly melts into slumber with the way her scent cocoons around him, the way he has to roll over and nudge his feet between her perpetual ice cold ‘feetsies,’ the way he can watch the steady rise and fall of her chest, the way she softly snores after a particularly long day of being hunched over the canvas she was painting. All these things made his insides feel fizzy, like he was an agitated soda can waiting to explode with joy. So yes, snoozing in her bed resulted in a comfortable restful night’s sleep. But for some reason he feels like this was the longest time he’d slept in a while.

He feels a cold hand on his bicep, gently shaking him, and a soft groggy voice follows, “Harry?”

He manages a grunt, face scrunching as the icy fingers now grips his arm, shaking him incessantly.

“Babe, wake up.” Her voice is hoarse, like she hadn’t used it a lot.

“Yeah… I’m up,” he replies, voice deep from slumber.

He blinks to a sight he’s sure he’ll be going to commit to memory and play it back. Layla in one of her panties, his white Kiss T-shirt, mussed up hair falling down to her waist, smiling down on him with a steaming mug in her hand. Her face is puffy and blotchy - no doubt from sleeping on her stomach for a long time. Best wake up call, he thinks as images of being woken up by her wet kisses trailing down the slope of his neck flash in his mind. No, second best wake up call, he decides as the warmth rushes to his face.

“Good morning,” she beams at him, sitting down at the edge of the bed as her fingers move angst the prickly five o’clock shadow against his jaw.

“Morning, sweet girl.” He pushes himself upright using his arms, leaning forward to plant a kiss on her cheek. “What’s all this?” He asks.

“Your morning coffee,” she replies, bringing the mug in between the two. “And,” she tilts her head to the side and his gaze follows to find a bowl of oatmeal topped with berries and apple slices, scrambled eggs and a glass of water on a wooden table. “Breakfast in bed.”

“And what did I do to get my breakfast to come to me?” He grabs the ceramic mug from her, blowing on the dark liquid to cool it down.

“Nothing,” she shrugs. “Just felt like doing it.”

“How lucky am I?” He smiles, fluttering his eyelids dramatically.

Layla lets out a hearty giggle. “Don’t go thanking your lucky stars yet, earth boy. I still don’t know how to work the fancy coffee machine.”

“How can one fuck up black coffee?” He laughs, taking a sip from the mug, grimacing immediately. “Lails,” he coughs, “Did you add sugar in this?”

“What? Are you not supposed to?”

“No!” He exclaims, setting the mug aside on the bedside table.

“Well jeez! You like drinking that every morning? Dude, that tasted like ass before all that sugar.”

“Hey!” He pinches her sides playfully, making her swat his hands away.

“I’ll never understand coffee,” she shakes her head. “Maybe a sip of this would help,” she picks up the glass next to his oatmeal. “Uncle left tender coconut water in the fridge for the two of us. But know that if I made filter coffee right now, I would have knocked your socks off.”

“I don’t doubt it. Thanks for breakfast, by the way.”

“No problem. The breakfast was to just butter you up,” she admits with a coy smile.

“For?” He arches his brow.

“I’ll tell you later.” She says, getting up and making her way to the door. “But wash up and meet me downstairs. Aunty will be back from work soon and then we’re going to the salon with your mum.”

“What time is it?” He asks.

“Half past ten. We’re the only ones home.” She tells him.

“Can’t be…” He turns around to find his phone and figure out why his alarm didn’t go off.

“I turned your alarm off. It bloody woke me up at five in the morning,” she rolls her eyes. “You need a day off from running for your shoulder.”

“I didn’t run yesterday,” he defends himself.

“We still went on a walk.” She reminds him. “Plus, I’ve got a great lazy day planned for us.”

////

“I thought you guys were going to get facials done?” Harry asks, stepping into Layla’s bathroom. She had a makeshift spa set up with fluffy towels, a scented candle, and colourful tubs of skincare.

“We are,” she replies, coming up behind him with a brass cup on top of a white hand towel. “You and Uncle refused to come get facials with us-“

He moves out of her way, so she can set it on the counter. “I don’t think I need it. My skin looks good from just using your skincare. And Vasanth laughed when you sugg-“

“Don’t be fooled by that.” Layla interrupts. “He acts like salons are a scam. He refused to go get a facial before his wedding because he thought he was too cool. He bought those facial kits two days before his reception and begged me to give him a facial. I bet my ass he’s gonna come knocking on my door for a sheet mask at least tonight.” She cocks her head to the wooden stool she’d dragged from the master bathroom.

Harry sits down. “So, I’m getting a spa day because you think I might have certain inhibitions to walk into a salon?”

��Nope. I’m pampering you for the burn you suffered at the carnival yesterday,” she laughs.

“Oh please! We both know that shot was a fluke,” he argues.

“It wasn’t! I’ve got the skills,” she insists, sticking her tongue out at him.

“What skills?” He asks her exasperatedly, throwing his hands up.

“Hello! All the hours I put into Call of Duty. It must have rubbed off on me in real life.” She clasps her fingers together, sticking out her middle and index at him, bringing it to her eyes as she pretends to shoot him. Blowing out the tips of her fingers like one would a gun in old cowboy movies.

“You can’t be serious!” He rolls his eyes. “Baby, that’s so stupid.”

“Says the idiot who’s car now houses the giant stuffed bunny I won,” she arches her brow at him.

“Shut up,” he sticks his tongue out at her. “Those games are rigged, you know,” he adds, hoping to discount her win.

Despite her boyfriend's attempts to try and gloss over her victory, Layla finds herself smiling - the kind that makes her dimple dip into her cheek. “So what you’re saying is that you weren’t strong enough for the high striker?”

“No!” Harry replies quickly. “I won that fair and square! I am a man of wit and brawn!”

Layla laughs. “Whatever you say, Hercules,” she dismisses, leaning forward to press a kiss to his temple. “Alright, I have two facial kits. Do you want the fruit enzyme or the pearl one?”

Harry regards the boxes on the counter, like he knew the organic chemistry behind it. Prior to Layla all he did was moisturise and now he had managed to swipe all of her tubes and tubs that were nice smelling. His skin was a lot softer, the tingly red goopy masque that Layla pipettes onto his face every week got rid of all the blackheads on his nose. His forehead was a lot less angry, with the red zits only popping up occasionally but disappearing as fast as it came. So, he really didn’t think he needed any one of the boxes but it was appealing to kick back and let her dote on him. After all, she deemed it to be his lazy day. “The fruit one,” he answers.

“Did you just pick the colourful box?” Layla chuckles when he gives her a sheepish smile as she runs a comb through his hair to work the knots.“Can’t believe you cut your hair,” she complains, running her fingers through the shorter brown locks. When he’d turned up to her Aunt’s flower braiding ceremony with trimmed hair, it made her bottom lip visibly jut out in a pout.

“It was getting long and difficult to style.” It was. Harry’s hair coiled around the nape of his neck and it made him look shaggy. “You’re just whining ‘coz you don’t have a lot to grab onto when I’m eating you out,” he smiles up at her salaciously.

Warmth flushes across Layla’s chest, rising up to her cheeks and the tops of her ears. He really did have a filthy mouth. “It’s not just that,” she admits. “Your curls are gone,” she states. The short cut - especially after styling - made his hair look straight, almost like the stylist had a vengeance to get rid of them. There was still a dusting of curls left behind near his ears and it was incredibly cute when they peaked out of whatever beanie he was wearing. She can’t wait until they grow back and coil again and she was going to do everything in her power to make them sprout faster.

“What’s that?” Harry asks, as Layla reaches for the small brass bowl with a sap green liquid.

“Oil. Aunty’s hair and mine have been falling off in clumps lately, so we called grandmum and asked for her hair oil recipe. Is that okay? It’s ayurvedic.”

“Yeah. Was this your ploy all along? Trick me into growing my hair out faster?”

She chuckles. “No, actually. I was just giving you a head massage.”

“What have you got up your sleeve, Lails?”

“Nothing. Now just shut your eyes and prepare to relax.”

She gently scoops out the oil, mindful to not spill it on the floor, and works her blunt nails in small circles on his scalp. He moans quietly, and it makes her chuckle as she puts a shower cap on him. Step one: complete, she smiles.

Harry likes getting a facial, he decides. He has not got one before but he concludes that this is the best. His girlfriend’s soft touch as she lathers up his face with a cleanser, the soft bristles of the brush that paint his skin with a thick orange paste, and he got to lean back against her chest. All made a content sigh escape from him.

Their trip to the autumn carnival was a ball of fun. They got there after lunch and went around playing loads of games. Layla won the shooting game and ended up picking a humongous bunny plushie - one that the two could not tote around, resulting Harry to jog to the parking lot and throw it in the backseat of his car. Harry tried his luck at ring toss, skee ball, and bottle toss, only to lose every time. He pouted the whole time they walked around the fair, because he deemed it unfair that his girlfriend won and refused to give him the bunny as consolation. Layla pestered him to buy them a turkey leg, which she spat it out right after taking a sizable bite because it was ‘so fucking disgusting that even cavemen would choose to die to starvation than to eat a turkey leg.’ He ended up eating the whole thing, while she stuck to a corn cob. They ended up taking lots of pictures and even waited for an hour to get on the ferris wheel. When Harry leaned over to give her a kiss at the top, the structure creaked making their pod unsteady causing Layla to panic shove him back into his spot. He almost peed his pants laughing when Layla walked face first into her reflection - after proclaiming she had a penchant for this - while they were trying to find their way out of the mirror maze. She gave him the silent treatment and shot him dirty looks the rest of the evening until he’d bought her a cotton candy that was twice as big as her face. Layla learnt that toddlers had a better grasp of eating cotton candy compared to her boyfriend, whose mouth, nose and cheeks grew stickier and pinker with each passing minute. Just as they were about to leave she’d convinced him to try out the high striker. Even if Harry was reluctant to lose again, her sugary kiss convinced him to give it a shot and he did, using a little of his body weight and most of the gravitational pull to drop the hammer into the designated red pedal. The red light meter grew higher and higher, causing him to throw his hands up high in sweet victory, pulling his girlfriend in for a bone crushing hug - spinning her around - muttering how he had ‘science and muscle on his side,’ smearing all the sticky sugary pink treat onto her face. Layla picked out matching key chains as the prize - a clay polymer of two peas in a pod, a nod to his favourite vegetable. The key chain now held his car keys and Layla had slotted it into her house key fob.

He’s pulled back to the now, when he feels a warm washcloth wipe off the enzyme mask that was sitting on his face for twenty minutes. “There,” Layla says, stepping back. “Now, before we hop into the shower, I want you to rate this experience.” She steps back, leaning against the sink.

“Five out of five,” he answers earnestly, opening his eyes to watch her telltale evil grin spread across the entirety of her face. “Oh no,” he mutters.

“Oh yes!” She beams. Opening a drawer, pulling out a spool of white thread, “Since I’ve given you an ace of an experience, you’re gonna help me with threading my eyebrows by being my dummy.” Harry watches her pull out ten inches of thread, bite it, knot the end to make a loop as she winds one hand around to create tension in the middle.

“No! No no. You buttered me up for this?!? No way. Piss off,” he leans backwards and shoves her hands.

“Come on,” she whines. “I’ll just thread the extras. It’s not like I’m gonna shape it. I need to practise.”

“I’ve seen you thread your face before. What practice?” He grabs onto her hands - clutching them close to his chest, halting her advances.

“Yeah for my moustache and the hairs on my chin! Not my eyebrows! It’s so bushy. Come on, please.”

“You’re going to the salon. Get it done there.”

“I’m not trusting anyone to thread my eyebrows but the parlour Aunty back home. She’s the only one who gets it right. Anyone who’s not desi is not gonna touch my eyebrows. Let me just practice on you, so I can try and do mine. I tried to thread my eyebrows a few years ago and ended up pulling out the hair from the arch and I can’t afford to fuck up with the wedding festivities starting tomorrow,” she reasons.

“And I’m the guinea pig that could stand to lose a bloody eyebrow?”

“You won’t lose an eyebrow,” she chuckles. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“No way! Here I was thinking you wanted to pamper me but you were trying to get me all putty in your hands, so you can rip out the hairs of my brow.”

“Please,” she tries again, jutting her bottom lip out, blinking rapidly to get a film of tears over her eyes, voice honey smooth.

“No,” Harry says firmly, closing his eyes to not fall for her glassy doe eyed trick. Her loud sigh makes him open up just in time to see her bottom lip quiver. “Anything but my eyebrows, baby,” he concedes. Fuck she is persuasive.

“Fine,” she huffs out, wiggling her trapped hands. “Let me pluck out the three hairs that sprout from your mole at least,” she pokes the mole at the corner of his mouth.

“I do not have hair growi- Fuck off, dickhead.”

“You just said ‘anything but the eyebrows,’” she quotes, drawling out her voice to mimic his accent.

“What are you? A lawyer? Using my own words against me,” he shakes his head. “Fine, anything but threading. I’m game for anything but threading.”

“Anything?”

“Anything,” he confirms.

“Then… Maybe take me to this seafood restaurant?” She proposes, looking into his eyes expectantly.

“Deal. I’ll take you on a date to this restaurant. That’s it?”

“That’s it. All I want is the Cioppino.”

“We’ll go next week and make a whole day out of it.” She claps, abandoning the thread. “Deal?” She stretches out her pinky.

“Deal! Can’t wait,” says as he loops his pinky with hers and brings it to his lips.

“We can make a whole day out of it.” She declares, walking over to the glass partition and turning on the rainfall shower head for hot water. “I bet I can call ahead and get us on those boats that take people to the sea to taste fresh oysters. We can laze around the beach for the rest of the day and I’ll make a reservation at Seabird in the evening.”

All of what she’s saying sounds very rehearsed, Harry’s eyebrows knit together and his eyes narrow. The place they were staying was landlocked; far far away from the nearest beach. “Lails, where’s Seabird?”

“In Wilmington,” she answers, with a giggle.

Wilmington, a two and a half hour drive from Apex. A journey that Harry would have made her drive. He’d been driving her around the bloody country, and it’s only fair that she drove him around too. Ever since she told him that she was licensed to drive around multiple countries, in Vermont, he’d told her that they were gonna tag team for longer road trips. Of course, he’d drive her to and fro in a heartbeat but with each passing instance he found himself enjoying the role of a passenger princess - shovelling snacks into their mouths, curating playlists for their journey, fondling her thighs and chuckling at the sheer unwavering concentration she mustered while driving. And it was the experience he would have got while driving to the restaurant if not for her cornering him into this deal.

“Hey you conned me! This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” He accuses, standing up straight with his hands on his hips. Although his gaze was accusatory, the smile that tugs the corner of his lips was one of pride by being outwitted by his girl.

“No backsies!” She lets out a gleeful laugh, stripping off her clothes beckoning him to follow.

////

“Hey, come on in,” Vasanth greets Anne and Harry, stepping aside to let him in. “Abi’s almost done getting ready. You guys need anything before we head over? Water?” It was still dark outside, with the first few rays breaking over the horizon.

“We’re good. Never got dressed this early for a wedding event in my life,” Anne chuckles, smoothing down the fabric of her floral shirt. “Does it always happen this early?”

“Yeah. The பந்தக்கால் முகூர்த்தம் (Pandakaal Muhurtham) usually takes place at dawn. We woke up at three in the morning to get the house set up for mine.”

Harry beelines towards the stairs in his aqua trousers and his white shirt mumbling about checking to see if Layla was ready.

“Harry.” Vasanth calls out. “Layla’s in the family room. She isn’t coming today.”

‘Why?” He asks, hand on the bannister as he steps down.

“She’s ill. Allergies,” he explains.

“Oh no. I didn’t know she was allergic to anything. Is she alright?” Anne enquires.

“Miss. Genius thought it would be a grand idea to get some persimmons from the tree in the backyard in the dead of the night-”

“She’s allergic to persimmons?” Harry asks.

“No. She’s allergic to the gypsy moth caterpillar. They’re pretty rampant in fall, which is why I zipped her up in my biggest jacket I could find everytime she stepped out of the house.” He points to the Tide jacket that was hung on the coat hook. “I think it fell on her when she was picking the fruit and she barged into our room wheezing and claiming that she was dizzy.”

“Oh dear. Let me go check up on her,” Anne says, giving her coat to Harry, marching towards the room.

Layla is on her side, hands tucked under her cheek, breathing stuttering as she intently watches a show on her laptop - that was whirring like it was going to launch into space - with AirPods in her ear. Her lower half was swaddled in a fuzzy red blanket and her camisole showed them the red welts all over her shoulder with small irregular bumps that decorated her skin.

“Sweetheart,” Anne coos, sitting on the coffee table.

Layla smiles up at her, tugging off her AirPods as she reaches over to hit the spacebar - pausing her show. “Good morning. You look really nice!”

“Thank you, Layla. How are you feeling? Do you have any trouble breathing now?” She inquires - caressing her hair - from the whistle sounds she makes when she inhales.

“Nope. Just itchy,” her eyes flit to her splotchy skin on her forearm; she can feel Harry’s gaze - who’s hovering behind her - bore into the back of her skull.

“Did you go to the emergency room?”

“No. I bought my meds with me. I took an antihistamine, applied calamide on my skin. Wheezing has gone down considerably and I have my inhalers right here if it flares up again.”

“You came prepared?” Anne chuckles.

“Yeah. It’ll clear up by the afternoon. That’s what usually happens; I used to get them of-”

“You’ve been super allergic to them your whole life and you still haven’t learnt your lesson,” Vasanth scolds her.

“What lesson?” She coughs out.

“Do not go near trees, especially when it gets dark. Everytime-”

“Vasanth,” Abi chides in, walking into the room with a green linen saree, smelling like the jasmine that she’s pinned in her braid. “She’s sick. Don’t scold her.”

‘But she-,” her husband starts.

“Yelling at her is not going to get her better.” She tells him. “Nice pants, Harry.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, smiling at her.

“Nandhini Aunty called. I think we’re running behind,” she informs them. “You’re gonna be alright alone, kutti?”

“Uh huh. You guys go have fun,” Layla shoos them away.

“Okay. Call if you need anything okay,” Vasanth reminds her, bending down to kiss her hair. Layla nods.

The party makes their way to the front door, shuffling on their coats when they hear her call out, “எனக்கு காலை உணவை கொண்டு வர மறக்காதே, சித்தப்பா! (Don’t forget to bring me back breakfast, Uncle!)”

“ உனக்கு எதுவும் இல்லை! (None for you!) You’ll only get food after you drink the Neem juice!”

“Yuck!” She grimaces in disgust, making them all laugh. “I’m not doing that!”

“We’ll see about that when I get back. Get some sleep!” Vasanth shouts back. He grips on the door handle about to shut it when he sees Harry hesitate at the threshold, toying with his socks. Abi and Anne have already made their way across the street. “Everything okay?”

“Um no. I think-,” he stammers, running his hand through his hair. “I’m gonna stay with her. You guys go ahead.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Fair warning, her allergy meds knock her into a comatose state and the one time she couldn’t sleep because the house was noisy she picked a fight with my dad - who had the TV on - and bit him.”

“Really?” His eyebrows raise up.

“Yep. She turns into a rabid dog if she’s not left alone to sleep. She still threatens to bite me if I wake her up before the alarm. I think it’s best to leave her be. Don’t tell me I didn’t give you a heads up.”

“I think I can handle her,” he replies, cockily making Vasanth shrug before closing the door.

////

Forty five minutes. It only took forty five minutes for Harry to want to eat his own words. Handling her was something he’s not sure how to do anymore. His original plan was to lull her to sleep, so she was less likely to be cranky but he did not expect her to swing in the opposite direction. The minute Layla heard him walk back, she buried herself under the blankets - refusing to come out. She announced to him with firm conviction that she was not going to fall asleep until Vasanth, Anne, and Abi got home and filled her in on all the details that happened across the street. He’d tried everything with her: he was stern to which she responded back by blowing a blaring raspberry at him, she whined like a brat when he tried to slot himself on the couch, she managed to quickly swipe her AirPods and her laptop from the coffee table when he’d made his way to the kitchen to make her some chamomile tea, and most of all she dismissed him with one word answers when he proposed that he’ll drive her to a lake if she turns off her show and listen to him.

And that brings him to now, forty five minutes later with a child coffee cup in hand, hunched over the end of the couch on his knees, a loud sigh escaping his mouth when he sees that the upright figure of his girlfriend cocooned in the blanket. She is so bloody stubborn, he thinks wordlessly tugging on the corner of the fleece fabric. She quickly tucks it under her thigh, mumbling underneath her breath about wanting to watch Neeya Naana in peace.

“Layla,” he groans out, placing the mug on the table next to the thermometer. “What’s the debate topic this episode?” He asks. He’s watched an episode or two with her when they were vegging out on the couch. Layla had told him that the show helps break her bubble of privilege by giving her a glimpse into the opinions of the general public. And most of the time Harry sees her watching, eyes wide mumbling about how bloody backwards everyone is.

“Housemaids versus Employers. It’s not not even a debate anymore; they’re just yelling at each other and the moderator is trying to shut them up.”

“Can I watch with you?”

“No,” she responds after a few beats, with a shake of her head.

“Why not?”

“Go to Nandhini Aunty’s house, Harry.”

“I’m not gonna leave you! Baby, what’s wrong? I just want to take care of you. You were there when I was sick, why can’t I do the same?” He implores, gently placing a hand on her thigh, caressing the fleece of the blanket.

“It’s just allergies. It’ll go in a few hours-”

“Layla,” he cuts her off. “It doesn’t matter. Just let me under the blanket?” He pleads, giving a reassuring squeeze to her thigh.

Layla takes in a loud breath in. “I look hideous,” she admits quietly. “I have welts all over my skin. My face looks like a bumpy road. I don’t want you to look at me like this. You’ll laugh.”

Harry can’t help but laugh, making her pinch the skin on the back of his hand in response. “Ow!” He snatches his hand from her, rubbing over the spot. “I’m sorry. You’re being ridiculous, Lails. Do you really think I would laugh?”

“No,” she whispers. “What if you look at me now and just can’t get hard… like ever.”

“That’s preposterous. I get hard every time I think of you. Like sometimes I see you walk into my room with a smile on your face and boom - instant semi,” he admits, tugging the corner of the bed sheet, and slipping his hand in.

She giggles. “Your love boners,” she recalls, her hand clasping Harry’s that sneaks in, enjoying his warmth.

“Plus, I’ve sneezed on you - like a properly disgusting snotty sneeze and you’ve seen me pee! You still have sex with me,” he reminds her.

“That’s true! I’ve seen you pee like seven times now.”

“Just let me in, baby. I’ll close my eyes. Would that help?”

“No. I’m being silly again. Sorry.” She closes her laptop shut, and tugs her bed sheet off her with a big sigh, letting it pool on her lap.

Harry immediately helps her place her bulky old laptop on the ottoman along with her AirPods. She smiles down at him, and Harry can’t help cup her splotchy cheeks. She was warm, like she was running a slight temperature, her face was pink - with the calamide spread all over. Ruddy welts everywhere except for her nose and lips. The angry red bumps continued all over her neck, chest and down her arms. Her breaths were still accompanied by a faint whistle and all her hair was pulled into a messy bun, away from her skin.

“What on earth made you think that three in the bloody morning was a good time to eat persimmons?”

“I don’t know. I was thirsty and my water bottle wasn’t on the nightstand, so I came downstairs to get it from the kitchen and the tree caught my eye. I figured why not have a snack and you know I’ve never tasted persimmons before and Uncle had been holding me off from the tree until they got ripe.. So I figured why not?”

“And when did the fuzzy worm fall on you?”

“I picked three and there was a really big ripe fruit high up, so I set my phone’s flashlight down and jumped to get it and ended up knocking it from the branch. It fell on my face,” she frowns. “I thought nothing would happen since every time those fuckers triggered my allergies it was back home and they were native species but I guess all the fuzz of caterpillars don’t agree with me.”

He can’t help but let out a boyish giggle at the thought of her itty bitty frame jumping up and down in the dead of the night trying to get a fruit. “This is why you should stay away from worms. They’re absolutely vile.”

“Hey! Just because I’m allergic to one particular demonic worm does not mean you can hate all of them. They’re so cute and slimy when they crawl around.”

“Whatever. Make bad choices and love on worms and snails.” He shakes his head, muttering under his breath, “Freak.”

“Hey!”

“Did you enjoy the persimmon at least?”

“No! They were so disappointing! Not worth all this at all,” she explains, scratching down her collarbone.

“No itching,” Harry reminds her, prying her fingers away from her irritated skin.

“But it’s scratchy,” she complains.

“I know.” He coos, kissing her hand. “Come on, scoot over,” he tells her, stripping down to his underwear.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving you a cuddle?”

“Go put on some trousers. Don’t want them coming home with you in your tighty whities.” She snorts out a laugh, pointing at his underpants.

“Nice to see that all your dickhead skills are intact despite your illness. He flips his middle finger to her, making her bark out a louder wheezy laugh.

“I just folded a pair of your shorts and hoodie in my closet.”

Harry quickly bounds up the staircase and slips on his olive green hoodie and his black running shorts. By the time he gets downstairs, Layla’s already shuffled to the end of the couch, looking up at him with big bleary eyes. He hastily settles on the cushions, pulling the blanket around them, slotting his legs between hers while bringing her close to his chest. That’s all it takes for Layla’s eyes to flutter close, reveling in the feeling of his fingers rub soothing circles on her scalp.

////

Abi wanders into Ganesan's kitchen to get a break from all the ruckus in the living room. She needed to get away from the ruckus. At first the conversation was flowing and easy between the guests as the women waited for their turn with the henna artist. She was sandwiched between the Ganesan’s dog and her husband, talking to the guests about their trips to India - about the new buildings erected and new hangout spots in Chennai as Jeans played in a muted volume. But as the women started trickling away, the conversation turned more mind-numbing, the TV switched to the sport channel that broadcasts cricket highlights from ten years ago, and somehow the conversation turned a corner to alligator hunting from the bride’s uncle from Florida. Vasanth mentioned that he and Layla ate some alligator on their trip to New Orleans and the people immediately went into all the gory detail of skinning the reptile and she did not want her breakfast to make its way up.

While the rest of the house was clean and meticulously decorated with fresh flowers and paper lanterns for the mehendi ceremony. But the kitchen was a mess. There were plastic bags everywhere, food containers out in the open, the sink was overflowing with glasses and dishes, a trail of food wrappers dotted its way from the pantry. The kitchen counter was transformed into a makeshift station with an ineffectual assembly line of Aunties making goodie bags for the guests to take home.

“Do you guys need any help?”

“Yes, kanna,” Nandhini smiles. “Can you put some chocolate in each bag?”

“Here, you go,” an older lady politely hands her a box of Ferraro Rochers, and Abi gets into action.

“How far along are you?” The older lady asks, her curly hair frames her face and the grey strands provide a stark contrast against her deep skin tone.

“Five and a half months. Baby is due in the first week of March.”

“Abi’s all set to get a promotion at work in the New Year,” Nandhini adds, patting her back.

“It’s nice that the women nowadays get to do it all,” an old grandmother adds, who wasn’t really contributing much but more so supervising the assembly line.

“Sometimes, I wonder how different my life would be like if I wasn’t made to discontinue college to get married,” the curly haired woman muses.

“Do you regret your life choices?” Another woman asks, who was standing across from them.

“I don’t regret my children or my husband but sometimes I wonder what life would have been like had I finished college. Maybe I too would be a working mother like Abi.”

“It’s not too late now, Aunty, you can sign up for some classes. There are some great certification courses online,” Abi tells her.

“Yeah but my brain is not brand new like it was before,” she chuckles, making the group laugh.

“I’m glad I stayed at home. I couldn’t not bring myself to leave my children in a creche,” Nandhini Aunty says.

“To each their own.” The grandmother gives the ladies a crinkly smile. “But it is nice that the young girls get a chance to establish themselves before marriage.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Nandhini says.

“What makes you say that?” Abi asks.

“I was reading this interview from a famous divorce lawyer back home and she credits the rising divorce rates to women being allowed to have their own careers and build lives before marrying. Think about it, say someone gets married at thirty. The young girl already has a fully developed belief system, she has a good savings put away, she starts spending how she wants and it’s very hard for them to compromise and bend to the life she is building with her husband.” Nandhini explains. “You know, because they will be set in their ways, it’s so much more likely for both of them to have massive egos and fights leading to a separation. Which is why I think women should get married soon.”

“Doesn’t that apply to men as they age too?” Abi asks.

“But boys are going to be boys. Can’t expect them to be mature. Which is why, Abi, I want you to talk to Layla about marriage - start seeding the idea, you know? I talked to your mother-in-law during the flower braiding ceremony and she was asking me if I knew of any good matches for Layla.”

“But she’s-” Abi starts.

“I think Layla and Ashwin would make a great pair. They are looking for brides for him. He’s in tech in San Francisco. He earns six figures. He’ll be able to handle her spunky personality. This is his mother,” Nandhini points to the curly haired woman she was conversing with.

Abi stares dumbfounded at the women in front of her cradling her baby bump, not knowing how to respond. Nandhini Aunty has backed her against a corner by having Ashwin’s mother also present in the conversation. She hates it. She hates Nandhini Aunty for being sneaky and crafting this exact moment. She hates that she essentially walked into this conversation. She also hates the fact that this is how the woman was raised and she’s trying to do a good thing - at least from her perspective.

“I’ve told her lots about Layla and from what she’s seen today, she likes her.” Nandhini continues. “Talk to your family about it and don’t let a good opportunity slip by.”

“I really appreciate it, Aunty, but we aren’t really looking for anyone at the moment. Plus, she’s seeing Har-”

“It’s a lapse in her judgement. She’s just seeking out new experiences. She is having fun now but what will happen when she gets more mature? She will want to settle down with someone similar - someone from her own culture. We should be the ones to guide her away from bad decisions,” Nandhini tells her, halting the conversation about Harry.

Abi chuckles. “Even if that is the case in the future, her number one goal right now is to get into a good PhD program. She’s only turning twenty three next month and she just started her first adult job this week. We're also starting to discuss the idea of marriage and hopefully find someone before it’s too late, you know how it is - good matches are hard to come by and I’m sure that’s why her grandmother is spreading around the word. Just not immediately,” she tells the women, shooting apologetic smiles at Ashwin’s mother, who nods along with the rest of the women.

“What program is Layla applying to?” Ashwin’s mother asks Abi. The conversation smoothly moves into the women’s children’s experiences with applying to grad schools until Anne informs Abi that she’s done and it’s her turn with the henna artist.

////

One of the best things about getting your mehendi done was the feeling of the sharp plastic cone tip tickling the palm of your hand for hours, depending on the design. Layla certainly didn’t make the henna artist's job easy by giving her a neatly folded A4 sheet with the sketch of the design she designed. But the artist beamed - when she unfolded the sheet of paper with an apologetic smile - as she was rubbing a few drops of eucalyptus oil on her palm to prep her skin. She has been sitting with the artist for an hour now, chatting with the henna artist about all the designs she had done on her clients so far. Anne and Abi were deep in conversation with their palm outstretched in front of a table fan, aiding in the drying process.

“Lails,” Harry calls out, wandering into the living room to where she’s sitting on a round cushion on the floor. The backdrop was one with netted pink and bright yellow netted fabric draped all over with colourful paper lanterns hanging from the fairy lights strung above.

“Hmm?” She turns around to find him sauntering next to her clad in his monotone ivory kurta set. It was criminal how good he looked with the plunging v neckline, that exposed the slight dusting of his chest hair with his swallows peeping through on either side and the chain that glimmered around his neck. Her eyes can’t help wander down to how the gathering at the bottom of his pants only accentuated his graceful legs. The pale skin only accentuated the tan of his skin, making his jade eyes and raven tattoos.

“Can I drop my camera with you? Vasanth and I are heading over to Raleigh in a couple of minutes.”

“Where are you two going?” She asks and Harry Harry has to resist the urge to pinch her cheeks. Her allergies had subsided last evening, but there were still patches of pink on her face. She opted to not wear makeup - other than lipgloss and bindi - to the event to help her skin breathe and soothe before she had to glam up for the sangeeth and the kalyanam (ceremony). It didn’t matter to Harry because he had never seen someone so radiant in her flowy mint green anarkali, jhumkas dangling from her ear, her bangles tinkling as she pushed her hair behind her shoulders. The same bangles that were tucked away in his pocket when she sat down with the henna artist.

“He didn’t say but we’re picking up Earl along the way too.” He kneels down next to her, finally getting a peak at the drawing on her palms that the artist was doing her final touches on. “Wait- are those…,” he tilts his head, trying to get a better view.

“Elephants. Lots and lots of elephants!” She exclaims in a toothy smile that carves out the dimple on her left cheek. “How awesome is this!?!”

“It’s so pretty!” He carefully lifts her forearm - the one that was finished - to inspect the intricate line work.

“Of course it’s pretty. Elephants tend to have that effect on people.”

“Especially you - wait, my phone’s buzzing,” he tells her, putting her hand down to rest on her knee before fishing it out of his pocket. “It’s Vasanth. I gotta go.”

“Itch my nose before you leave, please?”

He chuckles, going to scratch the tip of her nose. “Oh, and Abi,” he says, making her turn to face him.

“Vasanth told me to tell you that he has the cotton balls soaking in sugar water with lemon juice in the fridge for the three of you.” He waves to her and his mother and heads out.

“You’ve trained him well,” Layla laughs.

////

“Layla, wait up.” Ashwin calls out, jogging over to the Sathish’s driveway.

Layla, Abi, and Anne had bid their goodbyes to the wedding party at the Ganesan’s and had made their way across the road to their house. It was a chilly afternoon, especially with the frigid winds blowing up her gown. Indian wear – especially occasion wear - was not designed with colder temperatures in mind. All she wanted to do is head back to her room and turn on the portable space heater near her bed. “I’ll be a minute,” she tells Anne and Abi, as they go into the house through the opened garage.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asks, holding her arms up in front of her, cognizant to not smear the henna on her fancy clothing.

“I didn’t know you owned a camera,” he notes, gaze moving down to the camera that was hanging around her neck.

“It’s Harry’s,” she tells him. “Everything okay?”

“Yep yep. I have something for you and in hindsight I should have given it before you sat down for the mehendi,” he tells her, tugging his sweater.

“Yeah, I can’t really hold anything right now. Although, you can just put it there,” he points to the shelf in the garage, where Vasanth keeps his tools. “I can get it later when I’ve rubbed all of this off,” she nods to her hand.

“Okay,” he nods, patting his pocket to fish out the object.

“What is it?” She asks.

“Remember when we were talking about toys on our way to the jewelry store?”

She nods.

“I asked my cousin who was flying from Colombo to get these,” he tells her, opening his palm to reveal a small aluminium tube and a short plastic straw.

“Plastic bubbles!” She gasps. “They still make these?!?”

“Yup. I had forgotten all about them until you brought it up in the car.”

“Thank you so much, Ashwin. This is the sweetest. I would give you a hug if I could.”

He laughs. “Yeah, don’t fancy getting henna stains all over my clothes.” He walks over putting it on the shelf.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” She trails behind him.

“Yeah.”

“Do you, um - This is going to sound stupid. But, um, do you do this with everyone?”

“Sorry?”

“Get thoughtful gifts. Offer to take them places. Maybe you’re a wonderful person who’s kind and is just friendly but I’d just like to make sure that we’re on the same page. I’m sorry if this comes across as rude but I think what I’m asking - Well trying to ask, I’m doing such a shitty job of it is-”

“Yes.” He tells her quietly, feeling his heart thud in his ears, fingers busy picking out a phantom thread from his sweater. “I think I might have a crush on you.”

“Oh.” His confession stuns her. “Why?”

This makes Ashwin laugh. “What do you mean why?”

“No, I mean. We met ten days ago. You don’t know me.”

“I feel like I do know you, to a certain extent at least. It wasn’t like some instant crush or anything. Nandhini Aunty started talking about you to me after we first met and she er… she told me your family was looking for a groom and she was on my ass to get married. She was telling me how we would make a great couple and - you look disappointed,” he notes.

“I’m not. Just finish your story.”

“My mom was also looking for girls and you were pretty cool with basketball, golf, and video games… I liked you and Nandhini Aunty pushed me to talk to you and the more we interacted I thought ‘why not her,’ so under her instructions I started to woo you,” he admits, looking down at the floor. “The more she said that we would make a great couple, the more I believed.”

“Wooed me?” She chuckles. “Let me get this straight, you bought me stuff and are nice to me because your Aunty told you to?”

“No no. I mean I’m not gonna say it was all her. I wanted to, too. She just influenced my choices.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Layla shakes her head, blowing out a long breath. “Actually I do. If you really know me, you’d also know that I’m only twenty two and I’m not done studying. I don’t want to get married to you or to anyone. Would you wanna be ‘wooed’ at twenty two for a lifelong commitment? Plus, I’m dating someone. Harry. Did that get lost in translation or something?”

“Oh. You’re only twenty two.” Ashwin steps back. “I didn’t know you and Harry were a thing. I really didn’t, I swear. Nandhini Aunty told me you two were friends. I’m sorry. I do admit I was a bit jealous that you barely considered my invites to hang out in favour of him but I thought of him as your friend. If I had known he was your boyfriend, I wouldn’t have asked you out. I would never want to put anyone in such a position. I didn’t know you were not interested. From what I was told, it seemed like you were open to it. I really am sorry. I crossed so many boundaries. I just got sucked into the whole marriage spiel with the wedding and all.”

Layla stands quietly for a few minutes. Had she been that blind to not know that someone was expressing interest in her. Harry was weirdly right, she thinks. He wasn’t being jealous for no reason, he did pick up on Ashwin’s hints and she just thought it was him being irrational and upset because she was speaking to another man. Fuck. I owe him an apology. She feels terrible that Harry went through all that - unearthing insecurities - when she could have stopped it all. But a little part of her was glad it happened because she didn’t know the complexities of his relationship with his father and she felt a lot closer to him after that night.

“Did I lead you on?” She asks.

“No. I’m sorry about this whole thing. It’s just a giant misunderstanding.”

“It is. For the record, my interest is with the portals for PhD applications. They open in a few days-”

“Hey, I get it. You don’t have to explain anything. I’m sorry about all of this but for mostly, making you uncomfortable in any way-”

“You didn’t,” she let him know, with a smile. “Hey, besides I get it, Aunties try to talk us into a lot of shit.”

“Agreed. I do carry some blame in the mess here but I hope we can be friends. I would hate for you not to come over for the movie night because of this.”

“I’ll be there with Harry. Will Pooja be there?” Layla barely got to see Pooja today because she had to be there at the venue to oversee decorations with her father. Her lack of presence was a gaping hole for Layla today, who was looking forward to seeing her decked up in the brightest of yellow clothes.

“Of course. They are on their way home actually. She’s the last person and then the henna artists leave. She was the one who picked out Love Today.”

“I can’t wait to watch. I saw a sneak peak on YouTube and I had flashbacks to Amma (mum) yelling at me for constantly being on my phone.”

“I know right! Raadika is doing such a good job with her mother characters. See you two tonight.”

“See you.” She waves to him as she walks out of the garage. “Thank you for the plastic bubble!”

////

“You are surprisingly good at that,” Layla announces, with a mouthful of her lentil salad, watching him perfectly flick the pebble onto the body of water.

“Why is that surprising?” He questions, cocking his head to the side. The pebbles skips on the water four times, before sinking, leaving a path of concentric ripples in wake of an otherwise still sight.

“You’re so clumsy otherwise,” she shrugs, scraping the remaining contents of sprouted lentils onto her spoon for the final mouthful wishing she had access to raw mango like she did back home. That would have made her breakfast a million times better.

“Hey, I haven’t bumped into anything today,” he chuckles.

“Yet. It’s only seven in the morning. You’ve got lots of time,” she teases, making him spin around to face her with his hands on his hips.

Beautiful, wasn’t enough of a word to capture the sight in front of Layla. The distant silhouette of barren trees lined up on the hazy horizon in a stark contrast of dark. The sun was making its ascent up the distant woody lining, making the sky bleed a vibrant yellow. The yellow that was slowly growing over the dark violet of the night's residue. The pink rimmed clouds were now faintly disappearing as a brighter colour weaves its way into the expanse of the atmosphere. The water slowly stills again becoming an unobstructed reflection of the beauty of the cosmos. It’s almost like the water knew that it needed to capture the beauty it experienced every day and so, it became a mirror - telling the refracted light and photon of its allure. But that wasn’t it at all. What would have been another scenery of daybreak becomes something that is inexplicably Layla’s because of the boy standing at the edge of the shore. It’s almost empyrean in his black trousers - that had somehow ended up with a smudge of dried paint, a ringer t-shirt, and an unbuttoned Gucci cardigan. He’s looking down at her with a faux cross look that he can muster but his resplendent dimples always give him away.

He’s keeping his promise of driving her to Lake Jordan for a breakfast picnic in exchange for her complacency when her allergy flared up. And here they are two days later, Layla is sitting on a blanket in his solar system themed jumper and yoga pants with a thick comforter wrapped around her to protect herself from the cold. “Come sit with me,” she nods to the spot next to her by the scrunched up foil - the one that he abandoned leaving behind morsels of the bagel egg sandwich she threw together earlier.

He walks back over to her, slotting himself behind her, draping the comforter over his shoulders and cradling her against his chest, so she’s wrapped too. “It’s a bit nippy today,” he notes, resting his chin on top of her head.

“Hmm,” she sighs in contentment, leaning her head back against the slope of his shoulder.

“Are you having a good time?” He asks.

“Hmm.”

“Thank you for breakfast.”

“Hmm.”

“Your mehendi stains pretty dark. I love your design.”

“Hmm.”

“It makes your hands smell nice too. Not that I’m sniffing your hands or anything.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re not listening to me, are you?”

“Hmm.”

He smiles, tilting down to give her a kiss on the messy bun she’s pulled her hair up in. “I liked your outfit yesterday,” he tells her, rocking her from side to side. “Especially your hair. I didn’t get why you made such a big deal about my haircut but when I saw you with shoulder length hair I almost felt this pang in my chest. I love running my fingers through the length of your hair, it’s very calming. I mean it’s not like I can’t do it now but - anyway what I’m trying to say is that as much as I miss your old look. I love your new look just as much, if not more. It’s gonna take some getting use to. But it does make your cheeks super chubby.” He playfully pinches the apples of her flushed cheek.

When Layla went to the salon with Anne and Abi, she spontaneously decided to chop off her hair. She was getting tired of it. There was so much of it and it was all over her face and it was falling in clumps with the sudden change in weather. It made her nervous, in a lot of ways her hair was her security blanket, so instead of doing something drastic. She settled on getting two subtle layers with wispy bottleneck bangs. She immediately regretted the decision when she saw her hair on the floor of the salon. Several inches of her hair that ran all the way down to her waist, now sat right under her collarbone but the heart that Harry had replied with as a response to the picture she sent gave her a semblance of ease.

“Hmm.”

“What?” He chuckles. “Are you sleepy? Not very talkative.”

She doesn’t reply, instead she tilts her head up from the crook of his neck to gaze at the sharp line of his jaw, and the moles on his neck - right next to the vein that bulges out when he sings, lifts or cranes his head. She can’t help the dopey smile that spreads across her face at the sight of his double chin and the crease of his smile line and the craters of his dimples.

“Layla, you’re staring,” he points with a matching loopy grin. He looks down at her with heavy lidded eyes and notices her fingers clasping the tiny elephant pendant around her neck as she moves it side to side.

“I’m sure this is all romantic in your head,” he says, giving her a loving squeeze. “And it would have been the same for me too but all those slasher movies you made me watch has me thinking that you’re gonna stab me with a screwdriver any second now.”

She lets out a sweet peal of laughter, melting into his chest planting a wet peck on the side of his neck as his cheeks grow a tinge of pink at the admission. “I’m not thinking of murdering you, babe. Far from it actually. I was trying to string together a speech.”

“Speech? For what?”

“You. From the minute I got into the car. I’ve been trying to come up with something perfect but I’m nowhere done, so there’s no way for me to know if it’s all rambly-”

“Let’s hear it then.”

“What?’

“Let’s hear it. You’re not gonna know it’s perfect until you practice, so go on,” he encourages her.

“Okay.” She exhales slowly, the hand that was not fiddling her necklace, weaves itself on top of his hand. “It doesn’t make sense. None of it does. The more I think about it, the more befuddled it gets. I’m not supposed to be here. Like I’m not supposed to be here with you. I’m supposed to be in Singapore. I had the whole trip meticulously planned to the hour. I was going to visit all the places my grandparents went to when they lived in Singapore. They spent the first five years of their marriage there. Appa (Dad) was born there. I was going to put together a scrapbook or make a vlog showing them how much the city has changed since they left but… you know what happened. I ended up on a flight here a few months after. To this quiet suburb in small town USA that I didn’t know existed before my Aunt and Uncle started building their house.

“And I know you think it’s fate and the whole notion of being tied together into a coherent tapestry and it makes sense to you because you read poetry and watch sappy movies and love love. But I can’t fathom the idea of our initials written in the stars, and our atoms colliding because of prophecy - almost like this was meant to happen. Intricately calculated by time itself. It doesn’t make sense to think that the universe itself erupted in ultraviolet chaos when we first locked eyes, like a raging multicolor of sound and colour to symbolise something grandeur. So, I cannot wrap my head around the world rupturing and fragmenting for us.”

Harry’s quiet. His mind is running a mile a minute about the possibility of what direction this conversation was headed. Deep down he knows there’s nothing to worry because she’s burrowing in his embrace. But he takes in her words slowly processing the weight and intent behind each and everyone of them. Layla turns around to face him, sitting on her knees, looping her hands around his neck and pulling his forehead down to hers as his hands perch on the small of her back. They stay like that for a while basking in the stillness of the environment juxtaposed by the lively birdsong until she backs away to look into his eyes.

“But I do know this,” she continues, giving him a bashful smile that melts away the weight of the world from his bones. “I know the universe is expanding and the only sun that we know is one day going to collapse in itself. I know that we are all hurtling towards our impending doom with each passing second. I understand the brain. I can make sense of liking the feeling of my freshly shaved legs against the sheets, going back to watch Winnie the Pooh when things don’t work out, singing along obnoxiously to ABBA, or my fondness for snails and elephants. It’s a cocktail of endorphins - dopamine, oxytocin and serotonin. I know the grass isn’t waiting for my footsteps. I know flowers don’t bloom for me. I can make sense of a lot of things.

“And I know I was scared that saying it out loud will make it real and you’ve been very patient but I’m ready to be vulnerable for you, with you. I know that every time you go on tangents and talk about clouds, seashells, the weather, my fondness for you grows. I’ve been fond of you ever since I ran into you at the park and you talked to me about sea monkeys on the way home. I admire that you want to help the planet and how hard you worked on your college essay. I can always count on you to draw me a warm bath, tuck my hair behind my ears, look at me like I’m the prettiest in the room, to squeeze my fingers while crossing the road, bake me treats when I demand, and hold me close when I need you to. These things make sense to me. And even if I don’t understand a lot of how we came to be, I'm absolutely certain about the fact that I love you.”

Layla lets out a short sigh of relief, shoulders slumping down, heart slowing its thumps against her rib cage as she hunches over to get closer to him. “I fucking love you, Harry Edward Styles and that is one thing that the universe can be sure of.”

He’s still and Layla can’t make out anything as she searches his face. Maybe I broke him, she worries her bottom lip. A few moments pass by but waiting makes it seem like an eternity. She sniffles from the icy wind that blows over, watching his eyes glass over and the faintest twitch of his cheek.

“Har, say someth-”

A toothy smile breaks across his face, one that highlights his bunny teeth and carves out dimples on his cheek as his face flushes with colour. He pulls her close, hands coming to cup her warm cheeks as he mutters, “Perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK SO FAR!

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allwaswell16 · 2 months

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A fic rec of One Direction omegaverse fics where one of the characters is faking their secondary gender as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave the writers kudos and comments! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

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(M, 42k, television writing) After rising through the ranks to become one of Hollywood’s most celebrated alpha writers, the world is Harry’s oyster. Louis, another rising star alpha, is Harry’s greatest undoing, in more ways than one.

🎀 Confessions of a Fabricated Alpha by @jaerie

(E, 18k, phone sex operator) famous alpha Harry Styles has a secret and paying an alpha to roleplay a relationship with him over the phone is the only way he can be himself.

🎀 Let's Embrace The Point Of No Return by sweaterpawstyles

(E, 33k, boss/employee) Harry is an omega intern at an all alpha company. Louis is his boss. There's some complications.

🎀 don't know if i could ever go without by ifthat / @lovehl

(E, 14k, pining) “We’ve come up with a solid solution. You’re not going to like it.” “What is it?” Louis narrows his eyes suspiciously, glancing at a visibly enthusiastic Liam. “What if you pretended to be an Alpha?” Zayn suggests.

🎀 Next To You by savannah_blue

(M, 14k, canon) When Harry Styles won the X-Factor he quickly became the latest pop sensation. When Louis runs into him at a party, he quickly realizes that Harry Styles is nothing like his reputation of womanizing alpha. Turns out, Harry Styles is an omega. And Louis' mate.

🎀 I Don't Mean to Frustrate by @lululawrence

(NR, 14k, friends to lovers) the one where Louis is an omega pretending to be a beta, but what happens when Harry, his (pining) alpha best friend, learns his secret?

🎀 Fakes (Streaming Live) by @allwaswell16

(E, 5k, camboys) Alpha camboy Henry Steel has a rather unfortunate crush on omega camboy Luscious Lucas. He also has a rather unfortunate secret that's about to be revealed.

- Rare Pairs -

🎀 Big White Lie by acrayonsmile

(E, 263k, pack dynamics) Louis has been pretending to be something he's not for as long as he can remember. Will the pack find out before it's too late to fix him?

🎀 How Could We Be So Blind? by WrennAddysen

(NR, 153k, OT5) Zayn, 1/5 of the boy band One Direction, is an omega, pretending to the world that he is a beta.

🎀 Like A Bullet In The Dark, by TylerM

(T, 27k, OT5) the one where Zayn, Harry and Louis are alphas in a pack with omega Niall, and Liam is a beta. Until he actually isn't and shit hits the fan.

🎀 a dark world aches for a splash of the sun by calums

(T, 18k, OT5) the 'beta!louis who is actually an omega' trope that everyone is craving

#ficrec #omegaverse #1dficvillage #trackinghappily #trackinghome #hltracks #1dsource #ficsfor4am #tracksintheam

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parmahamlarrie · 3 months

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Welcome back to another post for the directory of fic recs on my blog! If you would like a specific theme or trope, let me know! As always, these are all fics I have read and loved, not all the fics out there. You can find more University/College AU fics here! **This post will be updated as I have more fics in this theme to recommend!** rather be sad with you (than anywhere away from you) || @coffeehazza || 145.9k College AU, Roommates, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Mild Angst, Friends to Lovers

knock, knock, I love you || beautlouis || 86k College AU, Virgin Harry, Fluff

The First Year || @parmahamlarrie || 46.9k Uni AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Badboy Louis, Soft Harry

Play Pretend, Find a Friend? || @angelichl || 40.2k College AU, Fake Relationship, Coming Out, Mild Homophobia

Just Tell Me the Song and I’ll Sing It || myownspark || 39.9k College AU, Baseball Player Harry, Romantic Gestures

voicemail sings a wreck || @falsegoodnight || 37k Omegaverse, College AU, American AU, Enemies to Lovers, Frat AU

Listen To Your Heart || @chloehl10 || 35k Deaf Harry, University AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers

with nothing but your t-shirt on || crybaby || 34.6k Camboy Harry, College AU, Daddy Kink

Tell Them We’re Like Magnets || @nobodymoves || 31.3k Girl Direction, College!AU, Friends to Lovers, Oblivious Idiots

secrets don’t make friends || @thedevilinmybrain || 30.2k 5 Times Fic, Established Relationship, College AU, Dom/Sub, Service Kink

Introduction to Dynamics || @juliusschmidt || 29.1k Omegaverse, Omega Louis, Presenting, Coming of Age, Uni AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers

never been a fan of change, but we're still the same || @onlythebravest || 27.1k Omegaverse, Friends to Lovers, College AU, Hurt/Comfort, Drops, Nesting

if you keep holding me this way || thepriestthinksitsthedevil || 22.8k College AU, Dom/Sub, Friends to Lovers (kinda)

taken by lust’s strange inhumanity || @larrydoinglaundry || 20.6k Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, College AU, Frat Brother Louis, Intersex Omega, Virgin Harry

your lips in the low light || @givesuethemoon || 20.6k College AU, Frat Boy Louis, Art Student Harry, Established Relationship, Halloween Party, Angst

Funny How The Stars Crossed Right || @loveislarryislove || 17.9k College AU, Photography Student Louis, Vet Student Harry

tonight’s not over (come over and stay) || @adoredontour || 17k Famous Harry, College Student Louis, Lots of Fluff

Your Eyes, For Me Series || Idzzdi || 16.8k Blind Louis, Sassy Louis, Strangers to Lovers, College AU

Stumbling Into Your Arms ABO verse || @sunshineandthemoonlight || 11.3k - 2 parts A/B/O, College AU, Train AU, Fluff

think i’ll take my chances || trackfive || 12.8k Sick Fic, Established Relationship, University AU, Fluff

edible stars || @solitudeandchaos || 10.7k Friends to Lovers, College AU, Light Dom/Sub

everything I can arrange, every part of me you change || orphan_account || 10k College AU, Friends to Lovers

my heart's against your chest, your lips pressed to my neck (I'm in love now) || @bottomhaztoplou || 8.8k A/B/O, College AU, Courting, Friends to Lovers, Roommates

That Should Be Me || @kenniewen || 8.6k College AU, Dom/Sub

Draw || dolce_piccante || 8.3k Nude Modeling, Uni AU

bright lights (she’s fading) || @loveloveolivia || 8k PWP, Girl Direction, College AU

Traffic Light || @dinosaursmate || 7.1k College AU, Friends with Benefits

You and Me Got a Whole Lot of Chemistry || @flamboyantommo || 6.9k Friends with Benefits, College AU

when we get intimate || rainblou || 6.5k Omegaverse, College AU, Ace Harry, Nesting

Use Your Words || zedi || 6.5k University AU, Jock Louis, Flower Child Harry

I’m sticking to you like glue || peanutbutterapple || 6.2k College AU, Sick Fic, Halloween, Fluff

Congratulations, it's a boy! || lovewasaprettylie || 6.2k Gender Dysphoria, Genderqueer Harry, College AU, Friends to Lovers

Beep the Horn || @flamboyantommo || 5.9k Halloween Fic, Friends to Lovers, Roommates, College/Uni AU

I’ll be There || @allwaswell16 || 5k Uni AU, Sick Louis, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers

Take Care || everysingleday || 4.8k College AU, Service Top Louis, Established Relationship

With All My Surrendered Hearts || @softandslow || 4.8k Established Relationship, College AU, Long Distance

Green Coffee and Morning People || InsightfulInsomniac || 3.7k College AU, Meet-Cute, Coffee

The Twenty Four Hour Cafe || @londonfoginacup || 3k Uni AU, Coffee Shop AU

Delicate || @fallinglikethis || 1.4k College AU, Punk Louis, Nerd Harry, Trapped in Elevator

#tracksintheam #trackinghappily #trackinghome #1dsource #fic rec #fic rec list #larry fic rec #my fic rec lists #college au #uni au

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mouthfulloftoothpasterry · 2 years

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I want to answer more concepts but I also want to sleep so I have a solution, send in whatever concepts you want and I’ll answer them when I wake up every single hour to pee 😃

#random #send anons #cowboy!harry #dadsbestfriend!harry #camboy!harry #pornstar!harry #pornstar!y/n #fwb!harry #pediatrician!harry #nanny!harry #anything that is pinned at the top of my page #click the link on that post

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moonchildstyles · 5 months

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For a possible smutty gravity blurb: maybe something they haven’t tried before?? Like maybe flower watches one of his streams or something and he’s talking abt some type of kink/situation they’ve never done before and she gets all nervous bc she wants to do that but she’s kinda insecure bc why is he talking about it on stream but not to me??? And so maybe there’s a wholesome communication moment butttttt they end up doing that thing:) idk just a thought hehehehe

cw: anal play involved!! if that makes you uncomfortable please skip :)

wordcount: 10.2k+

—————

The end of autumn chill swirled around (Y/N) in a fluttering gust, the ends of her hair being lifted along the sweeping breeze. Her nose felt chilled, among the elements, any bare swatch of skin prickled with goosebumps. Despite her hand being exposed to the elements, she didn't notice much of that cold with the way Harry had it wrapped in his own. Walking her out to her car, he swung their hands between them in a juvenile show of affection. Since he started, she hadn't been able to wipe the smile from her face.

Looking up at him, seeing the tip of his own nose flushed with a chill to match that of his cheeks, her grin widened. He still had his glasses on from class, a heavy cardigan on his torso with his curls still a bit loose from his morning shower.

"What?" he asked, glancing down at her with a wide smile, his dimples and bunny-like front teeth on display.

"Nothing, just looking," she muttered through the curl of her lips, "You're working tonight, right?"

"I am, yeah," he sighed, "Sorry."

Creases pulled her brows into a furrow. "Why are you sorry? It's your job, don't be sorry."

"I know," he drawled, the same way he always did when she had to remind him that there was no reason for guilt tied to his line of work. "But, I was wanting to spend time with you tonight instead."

Bumping his shoulder, her gentle scolding tone melted, "You know, I could still come over."

A shy flush bubbled to the surface of his cheeks, painting him a deeper shade of red than the wind could accomplish. "You'd distract me too much."

"I think we could still get through," she teased, her voice lilting as she bumped her hip against his once more.

"Maybe, another time, flower," he murmured, looking down at her with an expression she figured was better suited to the man on camera and not the physics tutor he was during the day.

"Another time, then," she agreed, pushing back the sudden need to squirm as his eyes traced down her form.

Approaching the parking lot, her car in the lucky space close to the building, (Y/N) pretended as if she didn't cut her pace to make slower strides. She wanted an extra couple of seconds with him, even if it meant walking like the people she complained about on campus between classes.

"Did y'still want me to call you before bed?"

"Yes, please," (Y/N) answered, "If you're not too tired, anyway."

"Never too tired for you, love."

Thinking back to the first days of knowing Harry, remembering the way he struggled to meet her eyes or would flush immediately when she said something as simple as his name, it was hard to compare him to the version that stood before her now. Openly flirting with her and agreeing to another time where she could sit in on one of his cam sessions and distract him for fun. It was no wonder she had never seen the obvious signs tying the camboy on her computer to her physics tutor.

"Get home safe, yeah?" he murmured to her, stopping at the bonnet of her car. Using his hold on her hand he turned her to face him.

"I'll text you," she smiled up at him, rising to her tiptoes for a moment to press her lips to his in a small kiss.

Harry chased after her, unwilling to let the kiss end just yet. He won his reward of an extra peck before she started pulling away. He'd been late to his afternoon classes one too many times after walking her back to her car, claiming he just wanted to make sure she made it there alright when they really ended up spending time kissing until his cheeks were flushed.

"Go to class," she reprimanded him, drifting away from him towards her car.

Keeping his hand clasped in hers, Harry elongated that contact until he couldn't anymore, his fingertips grazing hers before they dropped to his side. "Love you."

"Love you, too, H. I'll see you tomorrow."

A toothy grin spread across his cheeks as he looked at her, his eyes impossibly behind the lens of his glasses. "See you tomorrow.

She gave him a tinkling wave as she stepped into her car. He would stay there until he saw her pull out of the lot, keeping to his promise of ensuring she started her journey home safely (he knew too many statistics about driving accidents to freely let her go without being there in case of emergency, he'd said). But, even as she pulled out of the lot into the main road, she could see him in her rearview mirror, standing with his hands on the straps of his backpack, wide grin on his mouth.

There was the tutor version of him again; the one that was soft and smiley, shy and wrapped in sweaters. She was going to have to tune into his stream tonight to get the other side of him.

—————

While tuning into Harry's shows were something that she always found fulfilling, there was something especially satisfying now that she knew who he was and knew him as more than just a faceless crooner. Though, she could admit, she still felt a bit shy when she logged in.

However, it didn't take her long to sink into the night session when she tuned in after putting away her study materials for the night. Checking the time, she knew Harry would be in the middle of his stream then, the temptation too much to ignore before she was logged in and watching him as he cooed and moaned for the camera.

By the time his screen was pulled up for her, his tip meter was already full and over the edge, his shirt off and his hand wrapped around his cock though his boxers were still on. She knew this routine—it was one of her favorites, anyway; he was in the mood to tease the audience tonight. He was going to coax them into begging for him, asking for more of daddy before he would be so inclined to give it. His chest was flushed a warm red, complimenting the black tattoos inked on his skin. Blocks of muscle were bunching and straining, his abs shining with a layer of sweat. The camera had almost everything in view, going as high up as to capture the line of his throat before cutting off at his jaw.

Plugging her headphones into her ears, she heard the labored sound of his breathing, the rich gravel of his town heavy on his tongue, and the slick sound of his fist passing over his length.

She had her hands on her keyboard, reading to type something out for him to test if he had his eyes on the chat, but she stopped short when he resumed talking. He was detailing out a fantasy for them, one she had never heard fall from his lips before.

"Would you like that, baby?" he asked, words drawling and dripping out of his mouth, "You'd let me try with you? You'd let me play with your cute little ass?"

Just out of view of the camera, he threw his head back, his breathing labored. She could see the stretch of his neck, flushed with his Adam's apple bobbing. His hand on his cock quickened, his fist slapping against his skin.

"You'd let me do that?" he continued, his voice completely breathless with his chest heaving, "Let me fuck you from the back and see where else you could take me? Play with you a little?"

With a fluttering blink, (Y/N) couldn't take her eyes off of what her Harry was doing on screen. Though he'd never brought it up to her before, it didn't take much for her to picture what he was offering for the audience.

She could be on her hands and knees for him, Harry kneeling behind her with his thighs smacking against the back of her own as his cock sank in and out of her pussy. Her heart was in her throat when she pictured him spreading her cheeks apart and thumbing at the second entrance he was speaking up, the second place she could "take" him like he said.

Is that something he wanted? He wanted to play with her, see what else he could mold her body into doing for him, see what reactions he could garner from her?

"You'd love it, sweetheart, I promise. I'd be so gentle, so gentle," he rambled, his voice sounding airy and lost the longer he sat with his fantasies. "I can put in a couple of fingers, show you how good it feels. I think I could make you cum like that. You want that?"

Her designated nickname pricked her ears. He didn't even know she was tuning into the show yet, having been frozen since he started speaking with no comments in her name being sent through the chat yet. He was thinking of her?

The idea made her thighs tense, her stomach squeezing into a tight knot.

There had never been a time in her life that she had considered allowing anyone to feel around anywhere other than her pussy, but the thought of Harry wanting to feel and touch her everywhere plucked at something in her. Leave it to him to make even the most unappealing of things into something she could see herself wanting.

"Fuck you everywhere, sweetheart, that's what I want" he groaned, the pace of his hand on his cock causing the band of his underwear to slip low enough to show off his length. "Gonna cum jus' thinking about it."

Sucking in a deep breath, (Y/N) listened to his breathing hitch and shudder, changing to match the heavy pace of his hand on his cock. He really was going to cum, that much she could tell. His abs were tight, skin flushed, and the base of his cock tight from the sliver of skin she could catch on screen.

"C'mon, sweetheart, tell me you'd let me try with you. Let me have more of you."

His chat was flooded with responses, going way too fast for (Y/N) to even attempt to concentrate on. She could imagine it was filled with the confirmations that he wanted, dirty promises that any of these audience members would spread open for him at any given moment. His tip meter had well exceeded the goal amount, the donations and tiny messages attached seemingly only urging him on.

All (Y/N) could give her attention to was the amount of times he uttered her nickname, asking her if she'd let him try his fantasy with her. That he promised that he would make it good for his sweetheart, that he'd be as gentle as he could be when sinking his fingers in and fucking her everywhere he could reach.

She felt as if she were out of her body, watching as he plucked down the band of his boxers. His heavy cock bounced up against his stomach before he caught it in his slick fist. His length was wet and flushed, precum pooling on the tip and dripping down his shaft. She was sure her mouth had dropped into a gape. This fantasy had elicited that kind of reaction from him. Her tummy tightened at the thought.

Though she was aware he was talking, spinning a story for his viewers to be entranced with, (Y/N)'s own head was spiraling around her own story.

Would he help hold her hips up when she couldn't anymore? She already felt full enough with his cock inside her, how much more would she feel with him like that? With his stamina, how long would he have her buried against the mattress, opened up just for him?

Before she could even be aware of the moment, she heard a familiar gasp in her headphones. Her eyes refocused on the screen, Harry's cock spurting with ropes of cum. Strings decorated his chest, slicking over his tattoos in milky pearls. He groaned, chest heaving with blushing skin. His throat was bobbing, the skin stretched with the very ends of his hair visible on the edge of the screen. She could picture his eyes closed, lavender eyelids fluttering with dark lashes. His mouth would be set into a gape, a pinch between his brows.

One of these days, she was going to end up going to his apartment after one of his streams. It wasn't fair that he was able to perform like that and she wasn't in his bed at the end of the night.

Harry recovered soon enough, cleaning off his chest and giving his signature send off for the night.

(Y/N) was still far from joining him in that headspace even when the screen blacked out, his page settling for the night. Her brain was still where he was describing his fantasy, where she could picture herself on all fours for him.

Replacing her laptop lid and sliding the device away, she rolled onto her back in the folds of her comforter. Staring up at the ceiling, she attempted to gather her bearings.

Now that more of the lust and the initial intrigue began to wane, she was left with a question.

Why wouldn't he tell her about this? Obviously, he had quite the feelings towards this fantasy, given the fact he was so worked up, cumming before she even really had a chance to catch up. Why was his first choice to share this with strangers on his stream as opposed to telling her?

To be fair, it was a rather intimate dream, even more than what they usually did with one another. But, considering the details of their relationship—her being an avid viewer of his before knowing his identity, Harry being an active cam-personality, as well as the time they sexted with one another before even knowing who they were—there were very blurry lines when it came to what could be "too much".

She hoped she had shown that she would be open to trying anything for him, just the same way he is with her.

Their phone call tonight would be interesting.

—————

"Hi, flower."

Snuggled in her duvet, (Y/N) relaxed into the mattress at the sound of his voice. "Hi, H. What are you doing?"

"About to fall asleep," he shared, his voice decidedly deeper than usual, "What about you, love? Y'get all your studying done?"

"Mhm," she hummed, casting her mind back to the hours before she tuned into his stream. They didn't seem so important compared to everything that happened after she slid her textbooks out of the way. Harry didn't even know yet that she had been present during the show, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to tell him. A part of her wanted to wait and see if he would broach the subject of everything without her having to bring it up. "How was your show?"

"Short," he laughed, the sound a warm vibrato, "I got too worked up and barely made it through a half an hour."

"Yeah?" she prodded, hoping to open up the conversation for him, "What happened?"

"Jus' m'imagination running a little too wild," he sighed, paraphrasing everything she had already heard through her headphones, "Thought about you a little too much, of course."

The timber of his voice fell as he spoke his last statement, enticing her through the phone as if that was a hard task for him to pull off. His voice was what paid half of his bills anyway—his body handled the other fifty percent.

(Y/N) felt a tad on the breathless side when she spoke next, settling back into the way she had integrated herself into his story; she could still see herself on her hands and knees, spread open for him with whines falling from her lips. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, sweetheart," he drawled, the smug smile on his lips audible through the phone, "You've seen the shows; you know what I think about when it comes to you."

It was hard not to get wrapped up in his words. Even with the small plan she had in her back pocket, this being her attempt to gather more information about the fantasy she shared with strangers on the internet, it was all too easy to fall into that soft, velvet coated space with him where his words were like silk and honey dripping over her skin. He knew exactly how to talk to her.

"Yeah," she swallowed, closing her eyes with her cheek mushed against her pillow, "But, was something different about today?"

Harry hummed as if he were considering her question. This would be the moment, she figured. This would be when he'd bring up the fact that he wanted to try something new with her, lay her out on his bed and take her in every way he could.

"I jus' think I miss you, that's all," he told her, deflating that anticipation ballooning in her chest. "I feel like 's been a while since I've had you all to myself, don't you think?"

Truthfully, they spent the entire weekend at his apartment, studying and working on papers in-between cuddles on the couch and romps in his bedroom.

"I think, we had all weekend together," (Y/N) laughed, teasing him some as if she still wasn't itching for alone time with him.

"I guess we did, huh," Harry joined in, "Jus' not enough for me then, I guess. You've spoiled me, now I'm always going to want more."

That declaration pinged in the back of her mind. He wanted more, that's what he's said in the stream. He wanted more of what she had to give him.

"I can do that," she answered instinctively, her voice a bit breathy over the line.

"Yeah? Gonna keep spoiling me?" he teased, his demeanor decidedly much more light-hearted compared to the creeping in of lust into her tone.

"I'll try." She'd try to be everything he wanted, she decided. She was going to be the place he indulged and shared those intimate stories with, not the internet.

A soft sigh sounded on the other line. "Y'always do, flower," he crooned before a yawn cut him off, "'M about to fall asleep, love, 'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she rushed out, feeling guilty now that she's trying to extract information from him when he started the call telling her just how sleepy he was, "Go to sleep and I'll see you tomorrow, right."

"See you tomorrow," he confirmed, his voice heavy and dripping, "Love you."

"Love you, too, H. Goodnight."

Harry shared a final goodnight with her before the call ended with (Y/N) left in her lonely bedsheets and the new facet of him she learned today.

Her eyes shuttered to a close as she sunk into the silence of her bedroom. She hadn't been lying when she said that she would try to do that—be that—for him. Why he didn't tell her in the first place, wasn't something she could dwell on at the moment. She needed to focus on plucking up the courage to do what she promised.

—————

"I'm still coming over tonight, right?"

Harry's smile bloomed over his lips, dimples deep in his cheeks. "Of course," he murmured, dipping his head down through the open window of her car to press a kiss to the apple of her cheek, "Should jus' live there, if you ask me."

(Y/N)'s own lips were curled into a soft smile as she looked up at him. This wasn't the first time nor would it be the last time she heard of this want of his. "We'll see," she settled, "Let me know when you're back then I'll head over."

"I will," he smiled, pressing another delicate kiss to her mouth before pulling away. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she cooed, "I'll let you know when I make it home."

He murmured a small thank you against her skin before pulling away. He waved a goodbye at her as he stepped back from her car, giving space for her to pull out of the parking lot.

Flicking her gaze to the rearview mirror, Harry nothing more than a cardigan covered figure that grew blurrier and blurrier until she took the turn to leave him out of her sight, (Y/N) could feel her heart rate spike.

She had a plan. The idea of setting it in motion elicited that nervous excitement in her. All she wanted was for it to go along without a hitch, and spend a special night with Harry.

When she laced this whole thing together the night before, she decided that when she went over that night, she wouldn't even really address what she had heard him say in the stream. She would initiate everything, pushing a little bit for the taboo idea he had shared, telling him that she wanted to try something new with him. She would tell him that she wanted to give more of herself to him.

It wouldn't take too much convincing, she figured. She already knew he had quite the affinity towards the idea of trying out both of her entrances. All she had to do was frame it with all the confidence she could muster.

And, maybe a cute set of lingerie she had bought with him in mind.

—————

The soft sound of lips parting and coming together once more filled Harry's apartment, the television screen a plain black as (Y/N) didn't want to waste time playing pretend with a movie night or watching an episode of their show. Instead, she didn't take much time before she was climbing atop his lap on the couch, her thighs astride his hips and Harry's hands on her waist.

"Sweetheart," he sighed into her mouth, his grip on her waist tightening as if she would slip away without him, "I've missed you."

(Y/N)’s own hands cradling his jaw, thumbing at the planes of his cheeks. Tipping her head in an effort to deepen the kiss, her tongue sweeping across his own, her nose the side of his own. "I missed you too, daddy."

She could feel the way his title affected him, his cock hard and heavy against her own core. He used his hold on her as leverage to help grind her down against him, (Y/N) practically able to feel the ridge of his head and the pulse of his heart through the thin fabric of her shorts. His grey sweats left little to the imagination.

"Say it again."

Moaning into his mouth, a crease knitted her brows the further she sunk into the moment. This was her chance, she was vaguely aware of. She was so ready for him, she lacked those nerves that came with vulnerability and she doubted Harry would be self-conscious enough to deny any indulgence into his fantasies.

"Daddy," she moaned, leaning into him that much more.

Snaking a hand down his form, (Y/N) followed the line of his shoulder down to his forearm. She reached to grab at his wrist before guiding his hand down lower on her body. Harry pliantly let her move him until they reached the full of her ass, the plush skin denting under Harry's fingertips. She pressed back against him, encouraging him to grab and play with her just like he said he wanted.

Harry was all but melting between her thighs. His kissing was growing lax and heavy, his tongue playing with her own in languid strokes. His heartbeat was racing but there was no urgency in the way he handled her. He luxuriated in every touch, every stroke, every grab.

It didn't take long for him to bring his other hand down to match the first, gripping her bottom in the span of his palms. Her skin felt flush everywhere he touched her, making it easy for her to push back against his hands and urge him to take the more he had been searching for.

"What's gotten into you?" he murmured, his voice heavy and watered down through the interrupting kisses. "Not that I don't like it, but you're being different, sweetheart."

To his credit, she was definitely going out of her way and initiating more, asking for more, doing more than she ever had before. She was always perfectly content with Harry calling the shots and sinking into that persona he felt comfortable in when it came to the bedroom. While she wasn't planning on taking that power from him tonight, she still had an end goal in mind that she was willing to guide him into meeting her at.

"Sorry," she answered, taking her lips to the corner of his mouth as they caught their breath, "I can stop. I just didn't realize how much I missed you, that's all."

"No, no, don't slow down," he urged her, pulling her flush against him with his hands on her ass, "Jus' want you to talk to me. What do you want? What do you want daddy to give you?"

Traveling down his neck, her lips never left his skin as she dragged a string of kisses over the slope of his throat. "I want to try something new," she whispered, hiding in his neck as she spoke.

"New?" he clarified, his voice vibrating through his throat, "What do you mean, hm?"

Was there a pretty way to phrase what she was going to ask for? (Y/N) wasn't sure, but she was going to try her best. As lusty as she was, she still was a little too shy for the more vulgar of phrases.

Instead, she pressed her bottom back against his palms, the ridges of his palms and the digits of his fingers could be felt through her sleepover shorts. "I want more of this," she told him, nose skimming his hairline with her eyes shuttered closed. "Inside."

All at once, clarity seemed to move into Harry.

Shifting his hold on her, one palm returned to the curve of her waist and the other landed on the back of her neck. He drew her away from her hiding place, forcing her to meet his gaze.

The lush green of his eyes had been depleted into something dark and foresty, a thin ring around a dilated pupil.

Fluttering her eyes in a blink, she dropped her gaze down to the swollen pillows of his lips. "Why'd you stop?"

A lopsided curve tugged at the corner of his lips. His hand on the back of her neck shifted until he was cradling her jaw in his palm, thumbing at dip under her chin. "Wanted to talk to you for a second, that's all."

Her heartbeat sped up in her chest, though no longer because of the lust she had feathering through her veins. "About what?"

Amusement flickered through his gaze. "About what y'jus' said to me."

Underneath her, Harry looked every bit the boy she had met in her physics course, the one that was too shy to meet her eyes and overly apologetic any time he had to scoot past her. He was the one that had tutored her through the toughest lectures and exams, willing to take his time and teach her things she wouldn’t have understood without him. She remembered him with flushed cheeks and chunky glasses, always warm under a heavy cardigan and a shy smile.

But, he wasn't acting like that boy. He was acting like the performer he was on screen. He was coaxing and teasing her, easing her into spilling her guts and cumming for him the second he requested as much. It wasn't fair; he was too cute, making her feel so safe to let go and be whatever she wanted to be, but entirely too hot to let her hand a clear head.

When she didn't answer, the cam performer continued, "Y'said y'wanted more of this, right?" He emphasized his question with the hand on her waist sliding down until he was warming the curve once more, fingers denting the soft flesh.

With a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) gave a quiet nod of her head.

Harry hummed at her nonverbal answer. He tipped his chin and pressed a small kiss to her lips. It was a distraction as he led both his hands to sit on her bottom. This time, he made a point of sliding them under the hem of her shorts, skin to skin.

"What did y'mean by inside, flower?"

(Y/N) bought herself time by pressing another lingering kiss to his lips. There was that bashfulness rearing its head once more. She would have to tap into his confidence if he wanted her to be blunt.

"You know," she murmured as if that were a real answer.

"Do I?" he prodded, smiling into their kiss, "Because I think it sounds like y'want me to play with your cute little ass. Is that right?"

Her chest expanded with a shuddering breath. "Uh-huh."

Buttoning his mouth against hers one more time, he shared a quick kiss with her before pulling away. His pupils were still dilated and warm, but something was decidedly softer when his gaze met hers.

"Is that why y'seem so nervous, right now?"

(Y/N) clammed up at his words. He wasn't supposed to be so observant.

"I'm not nervous," she argued, her hands falling to the planes of his chest.

"Yes, you are," he countered, just as sweet as he smiled up at her, "And that's okay. I jus' want to know where your heads at. I didn't know y'ever wanted something like this."

She shrugged, dropping her eyes to where her hands rested on his chest. She could feel the hard muscle underneath the soft fabric of his top. "I only want to try it with you."

"Yeah?" he said, sounding a little too cocky to be safe, "And why y'didn't y'tell me before?"

Before she could think much better of it, the adrenaline and endorphins in her system doing their job, (Y/N) fired back, "Why didn't you tell me?"

She watched as Harry's brows creased at her words. "What do you mean, love?"

Floundering over her words, (Y/N) knew she couldn't stop here. She had already started, there was no way of stopping in the middle of it all. "I saw your stream the other night," she blurted out, getting it out of the way and off of her chest, "The one where you talked about this stuff."

Realization dawned on him then. "I didn't know y'were listening to that one."

"I was going to comment or say something so you knew I was there," she explained, "But I had come in halfway through and you were already talking, and I've just never heard you talk about wanting that before. I was... surprised."

"Bad surprised or good surprised?"

"Good surprised," she admitted, peeking at him through her lashes, "But, a little bit bad surprised because I had to hear about it through a stream and not from you."

Adjusting his hold on her, Harry held her with an arm looped around her middle with his other hand still warming her jaw. Hugging her to his chest, she had no choice but to look up at him and meet his eyes. "I wasn't trying to keep anything from you, you know."

"I know," she reasoned, understanding that part of his job was that it was an outlet for some of the more vulnerable things he hadn't admitted aloud yet, "But it sounded like you were talking about me, and when we talked later you said you were thinking about me while you were streaming. If I hadn't been watching, though, I still wouldn't have known."

He took in her every word, listening to what she had to say before speaking. "I don't want to push you too far, that's all. I like what we have—I like making love to you,"—the phrase always brought a smile to his face when he said it, especially when (Y/N) grew shy—"and I didn't want it to be any different."

Pursing her lips, (Y/N) attempted to understand what he was getting at. "So, you don't actually want to? It was just a stream thing?"

"Oh, no," Harry stopped her, a huff of his laughter fanning across her skin, "I definitely want to, trust me. I want you to want it too, and not jus' because y'feel like it would make me happy."

"I feel like we do a lot of things because we know it makes each other happy, though," she started, maneuvering her arms until they were looped around his neck with her fingers edging into his hairline on the nape of his neck, "I don't think that's a bad thing as long as we're both comfortable, right?"

"You do watch scary movies with me," he smiled, drawing a small breath of laughter out of her lungs, "But this is a little different, don't you think? I don't want to do anything with your body that you're not one hundred percent excited for. 'M only happy if you are too."

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she leaned into his hand on her jaw. "I am excited, though—I want to do this. I just wish you had told me first."

"Me too," he smiled, "Promise I wasn't trying to hide anything from you, I was only trying not to scare you."

"I know," she murmured, turning her face until she pressed her lips into a small kiss against his palm, "I'm not scared—you already promised you'd be gentle."

His grin widened at her reference to his stream, surely remembering his own fantasy in detail now that she was offering it up. "I did, didn't I?"

"Mhm," she hummed, using that hold she had around his neck to draw him nearer, "You said a lot of things."

"And, you liked it."

"I did," she confirmed, the tip of her nose grazing his, "You don't make it sound scary or gross, or anything?"

"Yeah?" he laughed, tipping his chin until he could press a tiny peck to her lips, "How do I make it sound?"

"Really hot," she admitted, "I forgot everything I studied about as soon as I started listening to you."

Harry gave a disapproving hum, teasing her. Resting the pad of his thumb against the full of her lips, he kept her from kissing him again, leaving her to listen as he spoke. "We'll have to work on that again later then, won't we? Go to the library again for some motivation?"

The reminder of the time they had gone to the library and Harry helped her through that mental block with his hand between her legs was enough to get her squirming in his lap once more. He had to know exactly where her mind had gone when she saw his grin stretch his dimpled cheeks.

"But, I should probably take care of you now," he mused, finally slipping his thumb from her lips as he smeared a kiss across her pout. "Y'deserve it for being so patient and talking to me about what you want."

"I do," she absently agreed, melting into him. She was willing to take whatever he would give.

(Y/N) indulged in the pillow of his lips, parting her mouth and taking the taste of him across her tongue. It was easy to slip back into that place with him, where her thoughts were wisps and her desires were candles lit aflame. His cock was still heavy in his lap, right where her core was resting with spread thighs, his lips still swollen, and skin still warm.

"I love you," he murmured on a breath, breaking away though he didn't stray too far from her with his forehead resting on hers, "Let's go to bed, sweetheart."

She let out a dreamy okay, following after him once he had her settled on her feet, back towards his bedroom. They didn't bother to close the door behind them, in too much of a rush before Harry was roughly handling her to be tossed amongst the folds in his bedding.

A bright peal of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips at the act, her eyes creasing and cheeks split wide. Harry climbed his bed with a matching smile, hovering over her.

"So pretty, you know that," he crooned, dropping a kiss on the apple of her cheek before he began his own pathway across her skin. He followed the soft planes of her face, grazing her eyelids and the bridge of her nose. (Y/N) couldn't help the soft breaths of laughter that followed the more affection he piled on her.

"You're pretty," she answered through her smile, placing her hands on his cheeks to keep him from straying too far once he finally rested on her lips.

A sly smile on his mouth kept her from getting a real kiss from him. He was bubbling up with something, she was sure.

"I know," he teased, "You think 'm pretty enough to play with your cute butt, so."

"Don't say it like that," she whined though her complaint held no grit through her toothy smile. She made a halfhearted attempt at pushing him away, though Harry stayed right where he was above her.

"Am I wrong? I seem to remember a certain conversation we had just a minute ago."

She didn't bother to answer him, instead smushing her lips against his in a silencing kiss. It was a bit off center, not quite matching up with her nose smushed against his cheek, but that didn't matter much to either of them. Harry happily fell into the contact without a single complaint.

Soon enough the silly kiss had melted into something serious, warm and languid. He laid heavily between her legs, his cock straining against his sweats with her loose shorts doing little to cover herself. His chest was pressed against hers, heartbeats side by side with every breath marked by the extra push of his blocky muscles against her breasts.

By the time her breath was taken from her lungs, Harry pulled away first. He skimmed his kiss-swollen lips over her skin until he was hovering by her ear. "Y'really want to try it out tonight?"

It didn't take a second thought before she was nodding her head.

"We'll go slow, (Y/N)," he cemented, pulling away to match her eyes intensely, "Jus' tell me to stop if you change your mind."

"I will," she answered, knowing he wouldn't move on until he had that verbal confirmation from her,

He gave her a pleased smile before he dipped down and pressed another small kiss to her lips. "Flip over for me, sweetheart."

The flames in her stomach pitched into a bonfire at his command. That had been exactly what she was picturing. Harry gave her space to roll onto her tummy, helping her move until she was on her knees with legs spread and cheek pressed against his pillow.

"This alright?" he checked in, dragging his warm hands down the backs of her thighs.

She nodded with a pleasant smile on her mouth. "This is how I pictured it," she murmured.

Harry's touch solidified at her words, less glancing fingertips and more weight on his palms as he caressed her skin and felt every inch of the plush fullness. "You pictured it?

Her ribcage practically rattled against her heartbeat as he started pulling down her shorts and panties. He helped her navigate pulling them off of her bent legs and ankles with the way her mind was too preoccupied. Why didn't she just show up naked? It would have made this so much easier.

"Uh-huh," she breathed, answering his question, "I-I wasn't sure what you had in mind, but I hoped it was like this."

Harry hummed, bending down to press a kiss to the small of her back. He pushed the hem of her loose shirt up, revealing more and more of her skin though they were both too in a rush to take the time to completely undress her. Soon enough, Harry's shirt joined her shorts and underwear on the floor, his sweats and boxing being all that clothed him for the moment.

"I have lots of ideas, sweetheart," he murmured, starting a path of planted kisses on the hills of her spine. "We'll only get through a couple today, but if y'like it, we can try so much more."

The promise that there was more he wanted to show her, more times that she would be wrapped in his sheets, more of him that she would accept without a doubt, was enough to get her pussy fluttering.

Going down the line, Harry started kissing over the globes of her bottom, delicate sweeps of his lips over the sensitive skin. She couldn't help the goosebumps that touched her skin, unfamiliar with the feeling of anything other than his strong hands skimming this part of her.

"Gonna eat you out first, okay, flower?" he crooned, his words fanning out across her skin, "We'll start there, and we'll see how you feel."

"Okay, Harry," she sighed, trusting him from where she lay with her cheek squished into the pillow and eyes fluttering to a close. The only thing she didn't love about this position: she couldn't see him.

A beat later, she could feel the warmth of his breath fan across her core. She tensed some at the surprise, feeling her insides squeeze knowing that he was that close. She only had enough time to register that exhale before the flat of his tongue was licking through her wetness. Her own breath was sucked out of her lungs at the first touch against her clit, her folds being spread wide open around the width of his tongue.

Sagging towards the bed, she arched her back that much more for him, presenting any and everything for him. Harry wrapped his hands around her thighs, palms warming the tops while his fingers wrapped around to the side insides and dented the delicate skin. His grip was steadying as he pointed the tip of his tongue and explored her opening, her walls pulsing.

An all too smug breath of laughter fell from his lips when he pulled away. "Feeling good, sweetheart? Tell me."

"So good, H," she bubbled immediately, no other thoughts attempting to take over at the moment.

"Who?" he pressed, his hands on her thighs tightening though he didn't dip back down to her pussy like she wanted.

"So good, daddy," she corrected, all but keening into him, hoping she gave the right answer and would feel more of him sliding through her folds and tasting her wetness.

"That's better, sweetheart," he praised her.

With that, Harry's tongue was once more slipping through her wetness. He smeared his tongue across her core, taking in everything she had to offer while leaving a mess behind, comprised of both her slick and his saliva. Wet sounds filtered through his bedroom, along with the heady breathing coming from her and the contented noises coming from Harry.

By the time (Y/N) had her slick covering her thighs, enough wetness to make her worry she was going to start dripping over his bed (though, seeing as how he enjoyed making her squirt, she doubted he would have minded), Harry began focusing his tongue over her pulsing entrance. More and more slick wept from her hole as he pointed the tip and slipped inside amongst her tight walls. She shuddered at the feeling, her breathing hitching as she attempted to bring in a deep breath.

Before she could even register that she was missing contact on her clit, his fingertips were pressing against the bud. Tight circles were drawn around the top of her slit, her legs beginning to shake now that there was so much moire to focus on but less room in her brain to spare. He kept his other hand steady on her thigh, keeping her from falling while simultaneously being her grounding anchor.

Her wetness dipped down his fingers, tainting his palm with a thin glimmer. Harry pulled away for a heartbeat, his breathing heavy. She could imagine the shine on his chin and nose, the flush to his cheeks, and the way he would be staring at her with intensity in his eyes. She could feel that heated gaze as his fingers trailed through her messy slit.

When he reached her hole, he lingered for only a second before he was skipping upwards. Though (Y/N) knew this was coming, she still felt her heart skip a beat, her breathing shatter as she waited with bated breath.

He brought his slick fingers to her second entrance. In an instant, (Y/N) felt herself tense up, the foreign feeling shocking her.

"'S alright, flower," Harry crooned to her, his words fanning across the rounded globes of her ass, "Jus' relax. 'S only me, and 'm going to be gentle, remember?"

"I remember, I remember," she muttered in a rambling blurt. Honestly, if she had been asked what exactly she was remembering at that moment, she wouldn't have been able to give a straight answer.

Working her through that initial shock, Harry circled his slick fingers around the puckered skin, delving his tongue back into her pussy to give her something familiarly fantastic to cling to. Her legs took as she took in the duo of feelings, her clit being laved over by his tongue with a part of her she never thought could be stimulated now pulling the breath from her lungs.

"Still feeling good, love?" he asked, drawing away for just long enough to ask before he was licking through her folds once more.

It didn't take a second thought before she was breathing out, "Uh-huh, uh-huh."

There was nothing else for her to say—especially if she wanted to sound coherent. Though it was still odd, the feeling of his wandering fingers, every pass of his fingertips over the tight opening had a pulse ringing through her insides. The flames in her stomach were tight and warm, coiling into a burn.

"I knew you'd like it, sweetheart," he mumbled against her pussy, "Told you I'd be gentle. Jus' wanna open you up a little for me to fit a finger in, is that okay?"

(Y/N) felt her eyes squeeze to a shut, creases knitting her brows together. "It's okay," she breathlessly answered, half-parroting his words back to him as that was all she could process in the moment.

A groan rumbled through Harry's chest, the sound vibrating over her core. "You want that? Want me to finger your tight little ass, love?"

Until Harry, those words would have turned her off, had her curling in on herself and ending whatever encounter had gone south, but hearing the vulgar request in his dulcet tone, rounded with lust, had both her entrances pulsing around nothing.

"Tell me you want it, sweetheart."

"I want it, daddy," she breathed out, a short whine cutting her off when he thumbed at her slick rim, trying to spread her open just like he said, "Please."

"You're doing so good, my love," he murmured, dropping a kiss to the sensitive crease just between her thigh and the slick spread of her core. "'M going to give you everything y'want. I jus' need you to relax."

Bringing her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) sagged towards the mattress. She thought she had been relaxed, easing into everything and welcoming his touch. "I-I'm trying," she whined, "I thought I was doing good."

"You are, flower, I promise," he soothed her, another kiss to the slick skin, "Y'might be thinking about it too much, that's all. Y'need a distraction, don't you?"

(Y/N) didn't want to be distracted from a single touch he gave her, if she was being honest. She wanted to feel everything, know where his hands were, and find what she liked most. But, she supposed she might be too aware of every graze of his fingers, her body instinctively tensing and moving.

"I think you do, sweetheart," Harry continued when he didn't get a response.

The bed shifted behind her then, his hand stilling on her backside before she could feel his hips pressing against her ass. His thighs were lined up against her own with his hard cock sliding through the wetness of her folds.

A gasp fell from her lips, the tip of his heavy prick nudging her clit. She felt her insides pulse, including the already tight hole he was trying to work open. She keened back against him, slicking his shaft and the trimmed patch of hair at the base.

Smug laughter sounded behind her, Harry sounding much too pleased with himself and the reaction he could garner from her.

"Stay still for me, love," he instructed her, "'M gonna help you."

The steadying hand he had placed on her hip disappeared then, instead fisting at his cock before he was nudging the head into her entrance. Slick with both his saliva and every weep of her wetness, he slid in with no problems, a wet slap sounding once he bottomed out. (Y/N) reveled in the familiar feeling of fullness, completely spread wide open for his cock to push through her tight walls. She could feel the ridge of his head, the length of his veins, the slight curve that aimed him perfectly at the soft spot on her walls.

She would never be used to the depth he reached in her, remembering the way he had teased such a thing on a stream before they even knew one another. She had figured it was nothing more than fantasy talk back then, something to get his viewers going as well as feed into something Harry could cum to. Now, she knew that was all very much the truth, feeling the stretch in her own body as if he were nudging as deep as her stomach.

"Better, sweetheart?" he muttered, rearing his hips back before thrusting forward. He kept her on balance with his hand returning to her hip. Slick noises erupted around his cock as he sunk in, his hips slapping against her thighs.

The pads of his fingers circled her back entrance through his distraction, though her attention had trouble splitting between his heavy cock and the foreign touch. She could feel the way he did his best to gently spread her open, easing her into being able to take one of his thick fingers.

"B-Better, daddy," she cried, reaching blindly for this hand on her hip. She needed something gentle and familiar, she decided.

Harry welcomed her innocent touch, lacing their fingers together over the full of her hip together though her hold was decidedly looser given the monumental distractions she was going through.

"Good," he huffed, matching that of a particularly hard thrust he gave.

In that same moment, (Y/N) could feel the tip of one of his fingers slide inside her untouched opening. She gasped, mouth dropping open into a gape.

It was more startling than anything, the small intrusion causing her body to tense up.

"No, don't do that, sweetheart," Harry gently scolded her, keeping the pacing of his hips as he fucked her pussy, "Stay relaxed for me. You're doing so good, no need to be scared."

She wanted to listen to him, she really did, but she didn't know how to relax. All she could manage was closing her eyes, flexing her fingers around his own, and focusing on the familiar parts of his touch. She tried to right her breathing, fix the uneven shuddering and replace it with something steady and consistent.

"That's so much better, sweetheart," he cooed, dropping down to press a kiss to her shoulder, "Keep going, love. 'S jus' me."

While she didn't feel as if she were relaxing any considering how tightly wound her tummy was and the pulsing of her walls, she was happy to hear that she was easing up for him. Her efforts increased tenfold when that same slick finger pushed deeper inside of her, the knuckle of his digit catching before he could go further.

(Y/N) couldn't have prepared for how full she felt with his cock running through her walls and the small intrusion of his finger in her backside. The pace of her breathing she had tried to curate, the even intakes and exhales, was thrown out the window the second she allowed herself to take in the full breadth of that feeling.

She could feel him everywhere: the slap of his thighs against the back of her own, his hand in hers, his cock spreading her open, and his finger venturing into her ass for the first time.

There was no room in her head for anything but him; no wispy thoughts or anything that could form coherent words. She was drifting through his bedsheets as he did as he pleased with her.

With her attention only on him and he he felt, she could feel the twitch of his cock through her walls, everything stretched so tight around him. He barely stroked his finger through her back entrance, pulling it out the smallest amount before pushing back through. He was curating two opposing rhythms, leaving a part of him inside her at all times.

The thought had a broken moan leaving her lips.

"Fuck, you're so hot, baby," Harry muttered, the burn of his gaze trapped on her ass, "Gonna make me cum just from seeing my finger in your ass."

"I-I—" she floundered, unsure of where her mind was as well as the moisture in her throat, "I-I want—daddy."

A particularly harsh thrust was delivered, the bones of his hips pressing hard into her thighs. Another tiny bit of his finger sunk into her backside, enough to have (Y/N)'s back arching.

"What do you want from daddy, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice strained and thin. His composure was waning.

What did she want from him? What else could he give her that she wasn't already reveling in?

"C'mon, love," he coaxed, though his voice was decidedly harsher than she'd heard it before, "Don't go dumb on me yet. I still wanna hear my smart girl talk to me."

If he thought that would help clear her mind, he was sorely mistaken when she felt another gush of her wetness seep around his cock, her clit throbbing, and walls pulsing around everything inside. He could barely move his finger though the fact that she was aware it was inside was just as effective as feeling him slide through her virgin opening.

"Oh," he sighed, bottoming out with hard and fast thrusts against her, "You liked that, my love? I'll have to remember that, won't I?"

"Uh-huh, uh-huh." (Y/N) nodded her head with only half of her attention on what he was saying.

He pulsed his hand around her own, keeping her steady and with him. "We'll have to save that for next time though, sweetheart. I think you're about to cum with daddy, right?"

That was what she had wanted. The last thing he could give her was his release landing across the backs of her thighs. She could only blindly nod against the pillow, her hair sure to be a mess by the time she would actually start to care about anything other than her lust-filled body.

"I can't last much longer, love," Harry started, his words emphasized with the way he had to grit them out, "But, I need you to cum first. Wanna see you cum with your pussy and ass filled with me. Make me proud, sweetheart."

For (Y/N), time stopped right there. All that she was aware of was the man at her back and the perfect ribbon in her tummy that had unraveled in the most spectacular of fashion. Her mouth dropped open to a silent gape, nothing coming out given the fact she couldn't take any air in. Her head was cloudy and warm, matching the rest of her body. Points of clarity came in the form of Harry's hand on her hip, the tap of his balls against her clit, and the sharp unfamiliarity of the stretch of her second entrance.

That was the only reason she was aware of the fact he had pulled out. She mourned the loss of him inside her—in both places—until she felt him cum against her pussy, warm ropes sticking to her skin. The mess between her legs was now a perfect miss of the both of them, dripping down the inside of her thighs.

Aftershocks came in the form of lingering spurts from Harry, and (Y/N)'s walls pulsing around nothing. She couldn't be sure when she returned to the land of the living, but when the details of Harry's room came back into focus, she swore her vision was sharper. There was a joke about good sex there, something about Harry being her cure-all, but there was no way she could even attempt a tease at the moment.

She knew Harry was with her once more when he dropped down to press a set of kisses on the small of her back. His hands were on her hips, one still holding tightly to her own, while the other kept her steady as she began to lose her balance and sink towards his bed.

"You with me, (Y/N)?" he murmured against her skin, his voice gruff.

Flexing her fingers in his as a response, (Y/N) gave a small nod. "I'm here."

"Oh, love," he sighed, draping himself over her back, his lips pressing to the line of his jaw and soft of her cheek, "You did so good, I love you so much. Did that feel alright? I didn't hurt you right?"

"No, no, I felt really good," she breathed, a soft chord of laughter swaying out amongst her words, "I think I almost blacked out."

"Oh?" he sounded, his own peals of laughter following right after, "In a good way, right?"

Letting go of his hand, (Y/N) brought it up to pat at his cheek. "In a good way."

"Good," he crooned, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm of her hand before he started extracting himself from her. "I'm gonna get some things to clean us up, 'kay? Stay right here."

He must think he's so funny, she thought, but she didn't have it in her to play his back and forth at the moment. He could win this round.

By the time Harry returned with wet cloths and a pair of his shorts for her to borrow, all of the slick release coating her core and the inside of her thighs had cooled. It was an uncomfortable feeling that he took his time wiping away. He eased up around her sensitive spots, apologizing with kisses to the backs of her thighs and promises to be gentle.

"Did y'really like it, (Y/N)? Everything we did?" Harry asked after a moment, wiping down the insides of her thighs.

She bit at the full of her bottom lip, unsure of how to articulate what she had experienced. "It felt weird," she started, unable to find any other word to describe how she felt, "But, I liked it—a lot. I think it helped since it was you, and I love you, but it was... good."

"Jus' good? I thought y'said you almost blacked out?"

Blindly swatting behind her, she landed her hand in the soft swirls of his hair. She playfully pulled at the strands. "I'm too tired to play right now, stop," she laughed.

Her reprimanding hold of his hair turned into gentle carding through the curls as he took care of her. A beat passed, Harry finishing cleaning her up before he helped her into her borrowed shorts. Collapsing onto his bed, her back bouncing over the springs, she figured laundry, including the clothes on the floor, would have to wait for now.

Hovering above her, Harry looked to her with his clear green eyes—the same ones she had seen that first time in her physics class after he had taken a leap and took the seat beside her. She would be eternally grateful he had the confidence to do as much, otherwise she would have never learned just how many greens were in his irises.

"Really," he started out, voice gentle and quiet like a secret, "'M really happy y'felt good. It obviously worked very well on me too."

(Y/N)'s lips turned into an amused smile as she reached up and pushed back the flop of curls covering his forehead. "See, this is why you tell me things like this first—not the stream."

It was a lighthearted tease that had his mouth splitting into a smile, bunny teeth and dimples on display. He dropped his head to press an innocent kiss to the tip of her nose, though it wasn't quite as effective through his smile.

"I've definitely learned my lesson, flower," he murmured.

(Y/N) could only tip her chin and press her lips to his.

—————

this is.....very different SHFUSHFSUH thank u sm for reading, thank you to whoever requested, sorry for any mistakes and if theres any other ideas anyone else wants to see please send them in!

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