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writing-havoc · 2 years

Note

I'm literally obsessed. I'm sure you've seen my stalking your recent kaz x reader fics and I will not apologize for it! You're amazing!!! Can I request a Kaz x reader with the two prompts (from a post you rebloged):

"You're a little hurt, that's all" (said by Kaz)

and

“You need to distract me. do something, anything.“ (said by Reader)

PS I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort. ;)

But seriously though. You're writing is amazing, and I hope you know that. ❤ Thank you for the extra comfort character content!!!

Dust and Rubble

♡ Summary: A plan goes wrong. You get injured. Kaz tries to help

♡ Fandom: Six of Crows, Grishaverse

♡ Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader

♡ Warnings: Vomit, Blood, Description of Injury

♡ WC: 4.7k

♡ Prompts: "You're a little hurt, that's all." // "You need to distract me. Do something, anything."

I seen your comment on my masterlist post but since this is a sideblog, I couldn't reply. But, yes! I will tag you in all my Kaz fics from here on if I remember to :]. Thank you for all the kind words you've been sending me.

Please excuse any grammar and spelling errors. Hope you enjoy <3

Prompts used came from this list by screnwriter

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The dress clothes you were wearing were made out of some of the finest exported materials you could get in Ketterdam, stolen from the closet of a high end family a mission was centered around months ago. It was your favorite color, and it was a crime that it wasn't simply named after you with how stunning you looked dressed in it from head to toe under the yellow lights of the ballroom, your skin shinning and teeth glowing from pure euphoria.

You fit in perfectly.

It was truly life's biggest shame that it would most certainly be drenched in dust, rubble, and blood by now.

Kaz sat up, eyes blurry and doubled- no, quadrupled, and ears ringing louder than the screams escaping from the throats of those who just became widows. His head was pounding, entire body begging him to lay down where he sat struggling and just rest for five more minutes.

But he couldn't. He absolutely could not. He had to find you. He had to find the others, and get the fuck out of here.

He rubbed at his eyes, gloves unhelpful as they dragged even more dust on his eye lids. A handkerchief in his dress-pocket was missing, so it was either fumble around with his eyes closed or deal with the consequences of dust filled eyes watering uncontrollably.

The latter was the option he went with.

His bad leg screamed as he pulled himself upright. Every breath was a fight, but nothing seemed to be broken or bloody. Just incredibly sore and leaden with what he's now registering as lifeless bodies thrown on top of him by the blast.

He wants to expel his entire stomach.

Waves clash at his knees, spreading up his thighs as he feels the weight of a severed arm slide off his back and drag down his body, hitting the floor with what should be a thump but is just followed by more ringing.

The only reason he knows he's not completely deaf is because he can heat the higher pitched screams around him, and voices that are running by him sound like they're underwater.

This is, by all means, a good sign.

As the last of the dirt is filtered out of his eyes by tears, he takes a good look around.

Women and men alike are sprinting around the ball room, looking for their loved ones and helping out those who are still looking. Some find eachother across the room and run into eachothers arms, embracing eachother tightly no matter how much pain they were in. Others clutch the lifeless bodies of their deceased or injured partners, begging to the saints and anyone around them to help.

Kaz's heart is pounding. He can feel it now, trying to claw its way out of his chest because he can't fucking see you and his leg hurts so bad it feels like he broke it again. But he forces himself to walk forward, to look up instead of down because if you're anything else but fine then he has to face the reality that he may have to adjust to this stupid saintless world without you in it and he's not sure he could cope with that.

Fuck, where did it go wrong?

The bombs weren't supposed to be anywhere near the inside of this room. They were supposed to be outside on dumpsters and inside crates to create distractions and block off paths in their escape. Were they labeled wrong? Did they bring them inside? But they were old and rotting. There shouldn't have been anything useful in them that would require them to bring them inside for literally any reason.

Did Wylan place them on the wrong crates? Did someone bring them inside in a drunken haze? But, how did parts of the fucking ceiling come crashing down?

The blueprints had to have been wrong. Everything must have been wrong when coming up with this plan and he didn't see it in the entire month it was being fleshed out.

Kaz tripped on a piece of rebar, it's presence covered by the torn dress of a different guest. His foot was sent alight with pain, knees landing awkwardly on palm sized pieces of rocks that made them feel fuzzy.

For fucks sake, where the hell are you?

And in a horribly timed moment, when he's on his stomach and arms feeling like jelly as they hoisted his body up, that is when he saw you.

He will never forget the full body reaction he had when he saw you.

You were laying face first on the ground, your clothes torn and soaked with blood that for a moment he hoped wasn't yours, but instantly knew it was.

Because in a terrible fit of irony, there was two large pieces of stained glass sticking out of your back. And Kaz wanted nothing more than to release the entirety of his stomach contents when he noticed they almost looked like wings.

This was a joke. A horrible, horrible joke.

In that moment, however, he saw your arms move, hand coming to rub at your face and another attempting to roll yourself on your side.

Your movement caused one of the shards to tilt, falling out of your wound and shattering against the ground. He's never heard more clearly than then when you let out a blood curdling scream as it tore your flesh and the other tilted as well.

It, however, didn't fall out, and only hooked itself under your skin, pulling it up and outward.

In an extraordinary display of adrenaline, Kaz lifted his body off the ground and marched on over to you.

"Y/n." He tried, hearing coming back to him in full swing.

It was overwhelming, the amount of people screaming and the sound of rubble falling against eachother. Bodies squelching as people stepped on them in their rush to get out and your cries as you continued to try and hoist yourself up.

He tried to stop you, but couldn't get there in time as the other largest shard slid out of your body and stained the floor with your blood.

"Y/n!" He called. He sank to his knees when he got to you, hardly thinking as he helped to get you on your hands and knees.

The water dragged up to his waist, splashing on his stomach. It jostled his stomach and made it very, very difficult to not regurgitate everything he had eaten.

"Kaz." Your voice was gruff and he watched in horror as blood mixed with your spit and fell to the floor.

He lifted you up, letting you sit on your legs to get a good look at you.

Your hair was filled with dirt and dust, eyelashes caked similarly. Red dripped from your busted bottom lip and down your chin. The gash was sure to scar, but at least the blood wasn't from a chest wound like he thought.

"Kaz." You called again, letting your head loll around. "Kaz my back really hurts. And my head." You tried to bring your arms up but let out a strangled sob when you couldn't.

"You're a little hurt, thats all." He lied, completely betraying his own mantra. Your clothes were becoming soaked in your blood and there was no fucking way he was going to be able to get you out without damn near carrying you and the water was already too high.

Without allowing himself to think about it, he got up and hooked his hands under your arms. You howled with pain, but you at least had the sense to help him as your wobbly legs straightened. Tears streamed down your face and your arms hung limp, but at least you were up.

"Alright, dove." He swallowed his spit, squeezing it past the lump in his throat. "We need to go, okay? We need to get out of here."

"But, the job-"

"Fuck the job." The words sounded wrong coming out of his mouth. "We can attempt it again a different day. But we need to live to see that day, yeah?"

You nodded, and he couldn't help but be a little grateful that you were a little out of it.

He tried his best to encourage you forward, but words of encouragement are the bottom of his list of things he's adept at, especially in situations such as this. So it was mostly limited to "Right there" and "You're okay."

You were no more than forty feet from the Slat when you went still, eyes squeezed shut and arms still hanging limp at your sides. The back of your clothes were soaked and slowly seeping to the sides. It slowed a lot since you began your trek back, but it was still concerning.

"We have to keep going."

"You need to distract me." You blurted, taking a staggering step forward. "Do something. Anything."

"Distraction." He mumbled, mostly to himself, partly to you because what the fuck was he supposed to do? There was nothing around he could use and his leg felt like it was splintering in his calf.

He could say something. Maybe put you into shock somehow. But you don't get shocked easily and you're usually the one spitting out random facts and tidbits of information. He doesn't have random facts and tidbits of information stored in his head outside of the ones you've given him-

Well. Actually...

"Did you know birds have one of the most sophisticated and impressive breathing systems of any animal?"

You lifted your head, peeking your eyes open to look at him with an expression of intrigue underneath the pain.

He went on. "They've got airsacs. Attached to their lungs." He struggled for the information. "They've usually got about nine, three up front and six in the back in their rump."

You chuckled childishly. "Rump."

"Yes, rump." He fought off a smile. "It takes two breathing cycles to complete one breath. If I'm not mistaken, it's called unidirectional breathing. We use bidirectional. In and out. They breathe in while also breathing out."

You trudged forward, nearly there. "Is that why their bones are hollow?"

He stared in slight surprise. "Yes, actually. They've got pneumatic bones with big open crevices that store air, which in turn helps them with flying."

"That's so cool."

"Learned it a while ago while listening to some tourist veterinarian while on a job." He could recall the job nearly perfectly. "He had various picturegraphs and diagrams-"

Kaz took a step forward and hollered in pain with a closed mouth, bad leg completely collapsing underneath him. It was probably fractured again.

He should have told you to shut up and keep walking. Instead he indulged you and got distracted trying to distract you.

Yet, he doesn't regret it.

"You okay?" You leaned down as much as your body would let you, wincing in pain every inch down.

He was about to respond when you seemed to have bent down too far, your entire body collapsing to the ground. You only had enough time to stop your head from cracking against the wet cobblestone ground before you went unconscious, body ragdolling in a pile of limbs.

The entire world seemed to be crashing again. In the back of his mind he knew he should act rationally, pick you up and drag you to the Slat, but he couldn't get his body to move.

'You're dead' he thought. 'You've lost too much blood. You died.'

Those thoughts were only there for a moment before he sprung into action, letting the rational take over and hoisting you up and over his shoulder. He ignored the searing pain in his leg and the waves crashing at his chest and licking up his neck, limping to the door of the Slat and throwing it open.

He was lucky that Nina had made it back some time ago.

Very, very lucky.

"Zenik!" He called out. She responded immediately, her entire face falling as she seen who he was holding. Matthias' name was out of her mouth in an instant, his hulking body coming from around the corner. He stares for no more than a second before running over and taking you from Kaz's back.

"What happened?" She asked as she rushed down the stairs and into the makeshift infirmary, Matthias in front and Kaz taking up the rear.

"Glass shards. Stuck right through about three inches."

She ordered Matthias to set you down on your side. Placing you on your chest posed too much risk to your breathing stopping completely. Nina immediately got to work, tearing the clothes off your shoulders and exposing your back.

Her hands hovered over the gashes on your back, eyes squinted as she felt around for the damage. She cursed and moved her hands, the room watching as your muscles began to flex and more blood poured from your wounds. He nearly yelled at her to demand an explanation when a smaller piece of glass exited the wounds. She took them and dropped them in a bucket next to the table.

"They were moving around as you two were walking, going deeper." She closed her eyes completely now, hands immediately back to the gashes. "One of them nicked an artery."

"Fix it." He ordered.

"Oh really? That's what I should be doing?" Her eyes snapped open, glaring at your back. He knew they were supposed to be directed at him. "I thought I was supposed to be cutting it."

He glared at the side of her face. "Don't get smart with me, Zenik."

"Then don't give me stupid orders."

And he knows it was a stupid order. He knows. But he had to say it. He had to.

He paced around the little amount of open space he had. His skin felt like it was crawling where he slung you over his shoulder and he was drowning, the water covering his nose and nearly covering his eyes. His stomach felt like it was turning inside out, guts twisting at sharp angles. He was absolutely soaking in his own sweat and his fucking leg-

"Kaz if you're going to pace you're going to have to leave. It's distracting."

"Last I checked you don't give orders around here."

"No, I don't. But I'm the one currently fixing your love interest and I need silence and no distractions to achieve that."

He felt his shoulders bristle and cheeks grows warm. "Y/n's not my love interest."

That got a chuckle out of her. "Please, Brekker. Don't lie to yourself. It makes you look daft." He was about to retort, but the door above slammed open, Pim popping her head around the corner once she trekked her way down the stairs.

"Jesper and the rest of the crew are back."

White hot anger surged in his blood. When he got ahold of them he would tear them in half.

His eyes flickered to your body, Matthias holding you on your side with Nina pouring every ounce of her focus into fixing your wounds. And then he thought of himself, pestering her like a gnat to fresh fruit and being of no help at all.

He really wasn't like himself. Not with you.

"I'll be there in a moment." He leveled his voice. "Herd them to my office."

Pim nodded and disappeared up the stairs.

He waited until the footsteps faded until he looked at Nina again. A thin sheen of sweat was plastering to her forehead.

He took a deep breath, and then grabbed a nearby bucket and discarded any and all of his insides into it. Spit collected in his cheeks, making them burn as it coated his teeth. The back of his throat burned. He swished it around, spitting whatever was left into the bucket. He dryheaved for a few moments, cursing all the saints he didn't believe in before putting the bucket back where it came from, wiping trickles of bile from his lips and transferring it to his clothes.

The water was lowering, heavy against his chest but no longer covering his face. He tried to remember your warmth, a stark contrast to the charactered piercing cold of corpses, and walked around the table and up the stairs.

"If she dies, Zenik, so do you." He completely ignored Matthias' protective growl.

She nodded. "Noted."

He held onto the railing, knuckles turning white underneath his gloves. The backs of his cheeks were collecting spit once more, stomach contracting. He begged to his own body to just wait a little longer, and took the last step up and into the main floor of the Slat.

Dregs stared, but he couldn't be bothered with them. All he could see was red and green and feel red and blue, and the only people that could explain this was up several stairs and in his office.

It was a blur all the way up until he reached his door and swung it open. Jesper, Wylan, and Inej were sitting around the room, all staring at him with a look of guilt and mild fear.

He closed the door behind him and grabbed his cane from the umbrella bucket. It wasn't loud, but the sound was firm and noticeably being masked as something it was not.

With gritted teeth and venom in his voice, his question-turned-statement rang clear in the quiet room.

"What. Happened."

-----------

You were dressed in a baggy white button-up shirt and the coziest pair of sleep pants that Kaz could find in Ketterdam. The material wasnt itchy. Rather, it was soft and felt addicting on the pads of his fingers when he dragged them over it, slow and meticulous. They weren't nearly as high end as the clothes you were in before, and they weren't your favorite color by a long shot, but you still looked as attractive as ever.

The chair Kaz was sitting in was old and uncomfortable. Everytime he shifted he felt as if it would break underneath him. The wood bent and groaned no matter what position he took, but he would deal with it as he always does.

He watched your breathing, eyes glued to your chest for any sign that you were going under.

It had been several days since the mishap at the ball, and he was still as angry as he was that day after walking up all those steps to his office for an explanation.

It was stupid. The mistakes that were made were childish at best, completely and utterly rubbish at worst. A child could have done better. A child after downing several pints of beer could have done better.

He took a deep breath, attempting to calm his rapidly beating heart.

He's already gotten too worked up over this several times, a sour mood following him day in and day out.

Nina was able to fix your artery, but it was the loss of blood that truly worried her. She had no idea if you would pull through, but she did her best.

Realistically, Kaz couldn't blame her. He knew that she would do her best and then some to make sure that you would have the best chance of pulling through. But seeing you still unconscious, even if Nina was the one keeping you under, made him resent her a little. A lot. But you being kept unconscious with your healing process sped up was the fastest way for you to recover, so he'll keep his mouth shut and his brooding (for the most part) to himself.

Being down here gave him a lot of time to think. Which usually wasn't a problem. He treasured the time he got to himself, to continue scheming and analyzing blueprints and updating ledgers. Small meticulous tasks to fill his day and cards and dice to fill his night.

But he didn't realize that he treasured the small moments with you even more. Even if you didn't invade his space directly, he enjoyed the subtle ways in which you did.

The tea you brought him late at night would sit on a coaster next to the papers on his desk, the aroma filling his nose as he drunk it slowly, savoring the way you got it right almost every time these days. Little sayings you spewed at random moments would sit in his mind, always just to the left of his current thoughts. Little trinkets you found that you thought he would enjoy would find their place around his office or in a drawer just dedicated to you.

He didn't get those anymore. Not with you down here.

He shifted, internally wincing at the way the chair groaned.

It was loud enough that he missed your own groan. But he didn't miss the way you shifted and the way his name fell from your lips.

"Kaz?" You called into the room.

"To your right." He could attempt to play this cool all he wanted, but the second his own voice made it back to his ears he knew pretending was futile.

You turned your head, and your entire body relaxed when your eyes scanned his virtually unscathed body. He didn't realize the weight that he was carrying on his shoulders until he really processed that you were alive and finally awake. He felt lighter. Lighter in a way he hasn't felt for a long time.

"How much pain?" He asked, getting up from his chair and standing next to the table.

You wiggled around, instantly wincing. "Not too bad." Of course you would say thay. "Just a little sore."

He put his hand next to yours on the table, leather gloves feeling a little hot around his hands.

"What even happened?"

He sighed heavily, annoyance plaguing his body. "Turns out they moved all the rotting crates outside into the building. They didn't want anything outside to sway the professional look they were trying to achieve." He tapped the table. "The bombs were inside, and our blueprints were outdated by nearly a decade. The structural integrity of the building has been shot for years and some drunk civilian decided he was going to have a cigar right next to the bombs and threw his match into the crate, setting off the bomb."

"And that made nearly the entire building collapse." You finished.

"Exactly."

He looked at the space next to your head. It was a horrible miscalculation that nearly cost his crew their lives. He had to do better. This line of work isn't safe and never will be but he had to work harder to eliminate risks as much as-

"Stop." You said, voice suddenly stern. He looked into your eyes, alight with fire. "Don't go down that inane rabbit hole."

"It was a possibility I should have foreseen." He began. "The fact that I didn't shows that I'm falling behind."

"No." You said so simply. You took a deep breath like you were steeling yourself, and then began the painful trek of sitting yourself up.

"Lie back down." He tried to order, hand coming up just inches in front of your chest. You stared at it, then moved your lower body to come below your upper half, effectively sitting up while staying in place. He didn't know whether to be impressed, be annoyed, or chuckle.

"Kaz, you cannot possibly believe that you can foresee every outcome to ever happen."

"Of course not." He agreed, but still felt a little attacked. "But this is one I that I should have. It makes sense."

"Even if you did see it, you cannot control how the building responds- usually!" You shouted the moment he tried to interject. "The blueprints were out of date. There's no way you could have known that the entire thing would collapse."

"I should have double checked the dates. Made sure they were the updated ones."

"And why would you do that?" You pressed on. "When you ask for blueprints as architect, you would automatically assume they would give you the most updated ones. It was a logical assumption."

"I still should have checked." He didn't raise his voice, but it was obvious that he wanted to.

You looked at him, a little shocked, eyes searching for something. He fought everything in him that told him to turn away and walk up those steps. He felt a little bare, and got a grip on his breathing. Sudden understanding spread across your face.

"You know I'm alive, right?" You straightened your back. "I'm here."

He was about to retort, say 'of course I know that. You're sitting right in front of me.' But the reality of the situation truly dawned on him, just like in those frantic moments when he was looking for you, that there was a very good chance that you could have died if Nina didn't arrive back when she did.

This was childish. He gripped the head of his cane. "Of course I do."

You reached your hand out, inches away from his hand. You waited for a sign from him, and grabbed the cuff of his jacket with the pads of your fingers when he gave a subtle nod. The way you moved was slow and deliberate, giving him ample time to pull away. You stopped when his hand was no more than a few inches from your chest and let go.

He kept it there, hovering. Very carefully, you slid his glove off and put it to your side. Your lip was scarred.

"I'm here," you looked him in the eye, "because of you. I'm alive, because of you. Neither I, nor anyone else, expects you to see everything that could be thrown at us. We take the risk everyday when we adorn the Dregs tattoo, and even when we don't." He swallowed the spit in his throat, listening to your voice. "I don't plan to leave you anytime soon, Kaz."

He let your words sink in, feeling the warmth radiating from your chest. The waters lapped at his knees, but that distinctive sick feeling wasn't nearly as bad. You were open, giving him the choice, and he didn't feel pressured to fulfill anything.

He wanted to, he really truly wanted to.

He pulled his hand back, giving a nod. But not today.

"Don't leave." It was both a statement and a request, a plea, even, whispered into the candle lit room.

Silently, you took the glove and passed it to him. "No problem."

With a vulnerable heart and shaking hands, he took the glove and put it on. They didn't feel all that hot anymore.

"Wait here." He said. "I'll get Nina."

You smiled. "Yes, sir." You attempted to salute him, and winced when you moved too quickly. He sighed, a whisper of a smile gracing his lips, and started to make his way up the stairs.

The moment he emerged from the underground, the eyes of his Crows magnetized towards him. It only took them a moment for them to break out in smiles, Nina immediately hopping up and heading down the stairs.

"Told you Y/n would come around soon." Jesper piped up, earning a little shove from Wylan and a shake of the head from Matthias.

Inej stared at Kaz, and he immediately knew he was showing more than he intended. He schooled his expression and walked to the kitchen to prepare himself and you some tea.

The faintest movement alerted him of Inej's presence behind him as he got the cups down.

"It was your eyes." She said, answering a question he didnt ask. A moment of silence passed between them, conversations of little importance invading his space. "I don't think I've ever seen them so bright."

He didn't have it in him to say anything to that. Instead, he gave her a look with relaxed brows and an even more relaxed jaw, hoping that was enough. She smiled before disappearing again, no doubt going to see you.

As he poured the water in a clean pot, checking the temperature is where it needs to be, he leaned against the counter and let out a long sigh, exhaling umtil his lungs begged for air.

So long as you were alive and with him, he would be fine.

And as terrifying as that statement was, it brung him immense comfort.

You wouldn't leave him. Not anytime soon.

#ask #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #six of crows x reader #request #six of crows fanfic #shadow and bone fanfic #fanfic #b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

Text

Hearth.

A/N: I dunno if I've got any desi/brown/poc readers but if you're reading this I love you so much and you (us) deserve the same validation and representation others get.

Here's a blurb as to what it feels like celebrating Eid with Harry! Enjoy!

Warning: none — just loads of fluff.

More Inspos, Masterlist, Let's Talk

The night's pretty with murky clouds and thick layer of moon's brightness as Y/N cleans her flat, from scrubbing her Persian rugs to deep cleansing her vases back from her homeland. The flame evaporating from her candles scented like springs of Kashmir, flickers from her blowing sheer curtains due to the zephyr flurring outside.

She feels content, at peace waiting for Harry who promised that he'll be at her place by 11. He always comes an hour early helping her in setting the table before the iftari, they've been doing it together since the start of ramdan until today when he texted her he's busy along with a sad smiley.

It was fun. He fasted with her once or twice and would make sure she's hydrated enough once they break it, his love for rooh-afzah (it's a drink red in color made from essence of roses and some sweet herbs) will never fail to make her giggle as he'd demand for more after gulping two glasses already.

Then showing her his tummy along with his food pregnant jokes.

Her classes are online so it gave her time to experiment some cooking. They'd make samosas together and she always had an urge to hold back her cooes as his tongue used to poke out in concentration everytime his diligent fingers folded the samosa sheets skillfully.

"Did a pretty go'job here, innit?" He'd grin raising it like a summat trophy.

The moment he used to leave her flat (ofcourse after giving a tight hug before doing so) they both missed eachother terribly, y/n doesn't like the way her home falls into an abyss without his presence.

He's like a sunshine that warms her insides up.

The whistle of kettle and several raps of knocks on her door drags her from her fond memories of them together, she slings her feet down from the coffee table rushing to open it.

"Angel."

Harry says breathlessly prolly because he climbed three flight of stairs to get to her or that he's utterly flustered.

Her eyes remain struck at the thingies piled in his arms, a box of chocolates, many brown bags and stems of freshly blood ripped roses tucked between his knuckles.

He bought all of these gifts for her.

To make her feel like home.

To be her home.

What the fuck, nobody has ever done that for her —-- she just mighty cry.

Her mouths gupples like a fish too overwhelmed to react her emotions out and he gives her a sweet smile kicking the door shut with his feet -- gestures her to wait when she almost jumps like a cub to hug him and puts everything on the sofa knowing the things inside them's too delicate.

"C'mere, baby." He grins and she doesn't waste a moment falling in his embrace. Her cheeks smashes against his taught chest and she fists the hem of his shirt smiling too hard for her own sake as he sways them with his own rosy cheek squished against her temple.

"I love you so much, thank you." She murmurs gazing up at him with glinting eyes -- arms still lopped around his waist and his chin doubles adorably as he gives her his signature bunny grin kissing the tip of her nose, "Love you too bubba ... don't want ya homesick, at alllll."

The aggressive whistle of kettle parts them away, "Cuppa cha? Then we'll unwrap these pleasanteris." She points at the paper bags.

He nods flopping onto the floor cushions beside the large oak window of the balcony where they could bathe in moonlight.

"Thank you." He quips, kissing her fingertips while slipping his fingers under the handle of mug and takes it from her as she sits infront of him. He admires her for a second —- fawning over how she's looking so soft and cuddle-able wearing a baggy mauve kurta and some mismatched shalwar.

The tearing open of the stuffing tissue brings him back to focus --- this, he wanted to see this happiness dance over her features as she clutches the ethnic traditional dress he bought for her infront of her and when lifts it down he's met by overly excited eyes.

It's ethereal with golden details, handmade wire work and sheer fabric.

"It's gorgeous, pups." She squeezes his hand and he takes the sip of his cha smiling against the rim of the mug shyly, "Wasn't s' sure -- Sarah helped me in collecting stuff." Sarah's Y/N's bestfriend who was the only desi/brown in her filming class.

"No wonder she was being a lil sneak." Y/N chuckles already rummaging for what comes next.

He wanted to make sure he gets her everything they do traditionally in her culture and ate Sara's ears off to help him buy the most special thing and it's right there creating sweet noise when they touch eachother, dangling from her fingers.

"Churiyan .... " She whispers bitting down a smile. She loves glass bangles. Their colourfulness cheers her mood up and she'd always go with her Nani a night prior eid to select the most flamboyant pair of them from a bazar (market).

"This -— " She gestures to the gifts scattered around them, " —-- all of this and you, means alot to me." She sighs giving him a wet smile and he smoothes his thumb against her cheek like she's the most fragile thing to exist.

He watches her in a tad confusion when she stands up with a giggly squeal putting everything away and comes back with a tube of henna in her hand.

"It's chand raat t'night 'cos tommorrow is eid -- usually I spend it with Sarah and we apply henna to eachother, we're horrible at it honestly but now she isn't here 'm gonna bite yours ears —-" He cuts her off. Ushering her to sit back on her spot. He couldn't be more glad to spend all of his time with her whether it's just watching her make designs on her hand with henna.

"Your cha's waftin'." He shakes his head bringing it to her lips, "It's hot." She tells him drawing a circle on her palm and filling it with beautiful darkness of henna.

"Okie then ... " He blows at the hot beverage to cool it down and again brings it to her lips, "Now." He croons softly to her. She holds his wrist taking a sip from it -- he tucks the strand of her hair back and she smiles up at him making him chuckle when she takes a huge sigh as if her soul just woke up.

"What do we d'tommorrow?" He asks. Knowing most of the time they went to Zayn's house on Eids his mother used to fill the whole table with delicious dishes and the whole day was spent having fun.

"We do nothing but have loads of nice time -- I already made a dessert 'cos I know I'll be too lazy in the mornin', and invited your friends if that's okay?" She glances up at him done with her left palm.

"Perfect then," He nods, "D'ya need help with the other one?" He asks grabbing her right hand and the tube of henna from her.

"Yes, please." She shows him her hand covered with with henna and since it's wet she could do one thing wait or let him do it. The second options sounds more good.

"Not on me if it gets messed up." He warns her nonchalantly following the same pattern of her left hand. Stealing glances of her attractive face every now and then, dotting her moles with his intense gaze, he just thinks her brown eyes look more intricate – it's specks as if the forests soil on the first rains when they dilate with her racing heartbeat.

They're like an open book to him and at the same time mysteriously dark that he feels like burning a match to melt in them.

"You did it way better than me," She snorts examining it closely and turns the other way round to lay down on the carpeted floor and rest her head in his lap. He wipes his own hands watching the dark henna leaving a swipe of color on his fingertips.

He pets her hair, dimples milking into his cheeks when she raises her both hands infront of him -- blocking the moonlight that's falling on her, "When I was small I always used to end up getting it on my face and lemme tell ya. Having a yellow blotch isn't even a tiny bit fascinating on the only day you could dress up fancy."

His chest rumbles with giggles and he brings her hands closer to her lips blowing raspberries at them to get them dry early.

Comfortable silence envelopes them in to the point where they could hear crickets singing outside and moonlight sparkling on their skin —- she breaks it cuddling up into his chest.

"I really appreciate this, Harry." Her voice hushed whisper and her cherry stained lips couldn't resist but to patch kisses where his heart lays and she could sense it kicking a pace, "The fact that you did so much just for me -- is beyond my thought. I really feel like home." He let her speak. Squeezing her shoulders to convey the fierceness of his emotions he holds for her. His silken lips pressed to her temple and his eyelids flutters with each spurt of breath she inhales.

"I'll keep making you feel like home, till the day you'll allow me." Today. He for actually felt that his home was never a building or the luxurious furniture adorned inside it, but her. It's always gonna be her.

Because the moment he gets lost in those eyes all he come across is their shared laughter, their moments spent on this balcony right outside sipping onto their chas and watching the city wake up infront of their eyes, going to places he has never been to before, doing things he never thought he'd do in hundered years —- he isn't a big fan of spices but he still pretends like a big boi infront of her while eating pani puri she's oh so obsessed with.

The times she was never embarrassed to introduce him to her community or her friends, and getting soaked into rains even though they could've just used his car, having days planned to make him try new desi dishes, going to buy candles of many scent and shapes with him but then never feeling like leaving the store until he warns her that he'll throw her on his shoulder infront of everyone.

Going to Turkish markets together. He's a bread lover and so all this time he doesn't feel like leaving the shops filled with different kiln and tandoori breads. Eating Simit and drinking black tea in the amardu cups sitting outside the cafe –- he likes it with cheese while she might sound bland she just likes a bit of butter.

Them deciding for hours and hours which Persian rug to buy -- but never buying it apologising to the shop keeper.

Giving eachother head massages from the organic rosemary Morrocon oil that one of her friend gifted her, (Y/N) thinks she's one hell of a masseuse but Harry thinks otherwise —- though he would never ever break her heart so it's better keeping it a secret.

His nose creates a purring sound while he sleeps leaning against the wall, he doesn't even remember when he fell into the deep slumber with his large hand still wrapped around her wrist in a protective manner to keep her from moving.

It's cute.

Though when she stirs to regain consciousness with the birds chirping outside she feels remorseful finding him sleeping in such an uncomfy position just because of her and he wakes up with a loud wheeze —- blinking rapidly to see what just happened only to visibly relax back when she shushes him gently.

"Baby .... shit." He grogs out, knuckling at his eyes pointing at her jaw which's covered into a orangish streak, "Don't tell me." She groans bumping her head against his bicep.

A moment later they burst into fits of hoarse giggles and chuckles. She'd try to suck in air to not to snort and would do it nonetheless driving them more into belly aching laughter.

"Eid Mubarak, I guess?" He cackles loudly. Dimple coveting in to his velvet of skin. Rubs the tip of his nose against her's affectionately and swoons her in his arms to hug her warmly.

"Now -— go 'n dress up, c'mon." He cups the nape of her neck playing with the baby hair there and she whines smushing her face against his chest, "No. Lemme sleep some more."

"Heyyy none of that, c'mon sleepy girl you'll regret it later." He boops her nose smiling down at her fondly and she grumbles mumbling something in between you're so annoying or you're being so much like my mum.

He waits for her laying on the sofa with his arms folded and eyes closed. Prolly took a mini version of nap only to perk his head up grabbing the back of sofa when she returns with wet hair, soft clean face and lips tinted cherry wearing the dress and bangles he bought for her.

An enchantress from head to toe, he wouldn't even complain if she bewitches him.

He needs someone to pinch his bum because he thinks his eyelids might have struck. He takes a dramatic breather mischievously, pupils dilated cutesly and heart shaped lips parted with the sweet loving words in praise of her beauty burning at the tip of his tongue.

His fawning gives her butterflies. Expanding her chest with warmth and she does a three-sixty when he spindles his nimble in the air demanding her to show herself from every angle.

Her head falls back. An echo of happy giggles resonating in the room when he smacks his hand against his chest and flops into heaps of sofa cushions.

"You're fuckin' beautiful, a total knockout." He walks towards her with his hands spread open and takes her's to kiss the inside of her palms, "So are you." Her voice small with shyness. He sits on her on sofa and stays beside her with his chin perched upon his knuckles staring at her like she hung the moon -- as if she's a prayer come true.

"Did you get me ready to d'nothing?" She turns towards him. The curled up fringes kissing the apples of her cheeks same as his fingertips are dying to do so.

"I might sound selfish but it was a trap to get you ready early so I could admire you till everyone squeeze between us ... " He smirks and she huffs sinking deeper into the sofa throwing her limbs in air and his breath hitches when her bangles clanks together producing a beautiful noise.

"Harry!!" She whines.

"Okie, time to fill some grumpy kitten's tummy." He announces standing up to head to kitchen and she shakes her head with a silly smile trailing behind him.

All she knows is that. This Eid she'll have the best time of her life, as she could already feel his energy and love radiating in every corner of her home.

@harryforvogue idk why but everytime I'd sit to write this blurb you'd pop in my mind, hope so you're not hiccuping wildly.

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