a collection of one shots from my tumblr. some I wrote years ago so pls have mercy <3 I edited them the best I could <3
all work is original, do not repost. contains mature content, so read at your own discretion.
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A/N:this is a mechanicrry au i wrote back in, like, 2015 and posted in 2016, and it's the first piece that kinda put me on the map in the writing community because so many people enjoyed it :') i also like to joke about how this story suggests i'm psychic because there's a character in this fic named Camille, yet i wrote it way before irlrry dated the actual Camille 💀 so i guess this is a huge disclaimer: the Camille in this fic isn't connected or inspired by the real one whatsoever, her being named that was purely coincidental.
but yeah, he was tumblr's first and now he's yours besties!!! hope you like him 😼 please have mercy, i literally wrote it 7 years ago 💀
word count: 18.2k
content/warnings: smut!!! oral and otherwise, all inside a tiny office on the couch!!!
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The situation Y/N had found herself in was very rare and unnatural, considering she was normally very mindful and cautious of these types of circumstances, especially now during class. It was odd and uncomfortable– fuck, was it uncomfortable– and it made her feel hollowly awkward and flustered with anxiety.
It had happened to her a handful of times before, because naturally, thinking about Harry can get her wound up pretty tight if just the right explicit thoughts manage to wriggle themselves in from the recesses of her mind. Thoughts that she wouldn't allow herself to dwell on too much while in public, because letting her hormones act up in front of her peers was utterly stupid. But this time, Y/N wasn't really able to control it. It snuck up on her, and when set into motion, she just couldn't make it stop. It was like trying to halt a neutral FedEx truck from rolling down a hill only by pulling it with bare hands– hopeless and blatantly impossible.
It hadn't started off very different from Y/N's usual daydreams, her brain needing a break from the review packet she was filling out for her upcoming CHEM1211 exam. In between balancing equations and finding the molality of solutions, her mind drifts to more enticing thoughts– things such as what to get Harry for his Christmas gift even though the holiday is three months away, or if her boss would be calling her in for her usual shift at the gardening shop today.
The owner, Mr. Bush (which Y/N found pleasantly coincidental, considering he runs a shop that's centered around lawn maintenance and flower care), had called her a week before and stated that he didn't need her to come in because all the shifts were covered; that he'd inform her if he needed her assistance from then on. Y/N hadn't heard from the old geezer since. She's not sure whether this meant if she was fired or not, but it was starting to stress her out something fierce. She had already picked out a rather elegant pair of earrings she had been hoping to get her mother for her upcoming birthday, but her lack of income was definitely going to shake up that arrangement.
Anyhow, Y/N's wistful thinking ended up guiding her to reflect on what she'd had for lunch earlier that day.
Harry had taken it upon himself to prepare her a cheese and turkey bologna sandwich before he had left for work this morning, cutting off the crust just how she liked it. He'd packed her a bottle of cranberry juice (she knows he isn't particularly fond of the flavor, but whenever he went grocery shopping, he always bought some just for her) and a ripe apricot to accompany her sub. Y/N had found a neon green sticky note stuck to the fruit, Harry's slanted handwriting prattling on about how he'd sworn he'd seen some peaches in the fridge, but that the closest thing he could find was the apricot.
