watching this for the first time since it was on telly

3

We’re Not All Bad - Sweet Pea

Prompt - after finding out Reggie cheated on you with Josie you leave a party meeting a handsome South side serpent
A/n this kind of came from a dream the start and end was a dream the middle kind of just happened when I stared writing hope you all enjoy :)
Warnings - anguish, cheating, swearing under age drinking and drug use
Pairing - Sweet Pea x reader

Story
It was the party nick st Claire was throwing, everyone expect for Betty was having a good time especially when nick started passing round straws of jj. You was already really drunk and the added drugs didn’t help.
Dancing with Veronica it had been one of the best nights you had in ages, but quickly became one of the worst. You went to find your boyfriend Reggie Mantle not seeing him on the couch where he was before. You walked out of the living room and heard his voice come from the bedroom. When you open the door your saw Reggie sleeping with Josie. Your ran out of the hotel room crying wanting to be anywhere but here and to get the image of them out of your head.
You had cried and ran the far you didn’t really know where you was, somewhere on the south side was about all you knew. You also didn’t realise how drunk you was until the fresh air hit you, sitting down on a bench before you fell , you tried to calm down and sober up.

A wolf whistle made you look up to see a tall dark haired boy in a leather jacket walking towards you. “save the whistles and comments I’m not in the mood for dickheads” you say looking back at the ground, tears filling your eyes again at the thought of Reggie.

The boy sat next to you “good job I’m not a dickhead then” he said mimicking the nasty way you had said it. You turn and look at him annoyed, the alcohol fuelling your anger. “look I’ve had a bad night who are you and what do you want” you snap hoping he’d leave you alone on the bench to cry in peace.

“my name is sweet pea but everyone calls me sweets or pea, and I live round here I was going home until I saw a beautiful girl crying” he said giving you a kind smile.
“oh scary gang name” you mocked at him, “don’t let the name fool you, I’m not always sweet” he laughed. You roll your eyes standing up to leave, sweet pea stood up following you. you turned round almost falling, “why are you following me” you scream at him. “I’m not following you princess, I’m going home, its not my fault I live the same way your walking” he says. you wasn’t listening to him, you felt dizzy since standing and now you had spots in your vision. Blinking you try a few deep breaths, although you wasn’t moving you could feel you body swaying. the last thing you remember was saying “I don’t feel to good” and seeing sweet pea run to you.

Sweet saw you swaying and ran forward, being part of south side he’d seen people on jingle jangle before and knew she was about to collapse. he managed to catch you before you hit the ground picking you up bridle style thinking what should he do. 

You woke in a room and a bed you’d never seen before. your head was hurting thanks to the drinks from the party but right now you need to work out where you was and how you got here. getting out the bed you see your shoes on the floor, you see your still fully dressed you get you heels putting them on before working the courage to walk out the room.

On the other side for the door you see sweet sat watching telly. “hello princess, how was the beauty sleep” he greats you with a smile. “What happened? how did I get here? where is here?” you demand. sweets stood giving a chuckle “calm down” he said going into the room you had just left. “your at my house, you passed out in the middle of the street, drunk and upset” he shouted from the room. he came out holding a pair of thick sweat pants and a tee-shirt. “I didn’t know where you lived princess, and I wasn’t leaving you in the street all night so I brought you here thinking you could safely sleep off the alcohol” he finished.

“oh” you said not knowing what to say, feeling embarrassed sweets handed you the clothes, “you must be cold, you can put these on if you want.” he told you. Taking the clothes from him, you didn’t notice how cold you really was until sweet pea said it. after putting sweets clothes on you can back out the bathroom, “thanks” you mumble to him. Sweet Pea stood up pointing for you sit “its still late so you can stay here I’ll take you home in the morning” he said, “why what time is it how long have i been asleep” you say holding your head the pain coming back. “not long 3 hours tops its only 4am” he said walking into the kitchen quickly returning with water and a painkiller. “here for your head” he said.
you sat for the next 20 minuets in silence, fiddling with the hem of the top you was wearing as sweets watched a movie playing on the telly, looking at you every now and then. “so you going to tell me why you was so upset last night” he asked, you felt your heart break as you remembered what Reggie had done. “nothing” you said trying not to let yourself cry.

“well whoever he is, he’s stupid letting you go” sweets said without looking away from the telly. your turned to face him “excuse me what” you say. Pea smirks at you “well it has to be a boy, to make a girl like you cry, and I’m guessing he’s one of those footballers” he said rolling his eyes at the last part. you looked at him sad “okay your right his name is Reggie was have been dating for six months and I found his sleeping with some other girl” you say as you try but fail to stop your voice braking “and yes he’s a bulldog” you finish.

sweet turns to face you, “that’s the problem princess, he’s a dog! You could do better” he said flirty. “what, with a snake like you, you mean” you laughed meaning it as a joke “and stop calling me princess” you add. “Serpent” he corrected you “but yes a serpent is better then a dog we live by loyalty, where as your bulldogs just look for the next best thing, something bigger, better. They can be holding a diamond and give it up for cheap gold all because its shiny and new” he said gently touching your hand “and I’m calling you princess because you haven’t told me your name” he said back making you blush,  “my name is y/n”. For the next 5 hours you both laughed and talked getting alone like you had been friends for years.

it was 10am and the hours flew with sweet pea, sweets offered you a ride home you felt a bit nervous at first getting on his bike but soon loved it once he started going. As you got to the top of your road you saw Reggie’s car outside your house. Sweets pulled over at the top of the road when he felt you grab him tighter, as you saw you ex boyfriend knocking on your door. you didn’t realize how tight your grip on sweet pea was until he turned to you “hey y/n its okay we can get out of here if you don’t want to see him” he says, you nod yes loosening your grip a little as he started the bike up again.

you wasn’t sure where he was taking you but it was back on the south side. you pulled up back other motorbikes and a few cars. “where are we?” you asked nervous. sweet smiled “the quarry, see my friends I want to show you we’re not all bad! or at least not in the way most of the north siders think we are” he smirked helping you get off.

he walked over to his friends a massive smile on his face, you noticed how it made you smile too, he then introduced you to a few people “y/n this is Topaz, Fangs, Fogarty and the girl over their is Lesley” he told you. You and Toni became friends fast both having a mutual friend in Jughead, you sat at the quarry with them all day enjoying the sun watching Sweet Pea and the other boys play fight, race bikes and just genuinely having fun. you laughed and joked with the girls joining in with some of the boys games and fights.

at one point you found yourself stirring at SP, biting your lip admiring hot and sexy he looked. how his dark eyes sparkled in the light or how full and soft his lips looked, you found yourself bushing when he looked at you giving you a cheek wink. finally you had butterflies when he came over to you and the other serpent’s you was sat with and put his arm around your shoulder and stayed like that as you all chatted about randomness.

Sweet and the boys left to get some food, Toni and another two girls all looked at you, “so you and sweets how long has that been going on for” one of them asked making you go a bright shade of red. “no! no no the is no me and sweet pea” you tell them. “well he likes you, he’s never this happy” Toni says smiling, “okay well if not together how did you meet, why have we never seen you before” a different girl asked. “well we only met last night” you say a little embarrassed “I was drunk and couldn’t stand never mind walk home so he” you didn’t finish as you heard sweets voice “she was literally falling for me the second she saw me” he joked looking at his friends, only saying it to keep his reputation. “falling in laughter at you” you tease back but the look in both your eyes told everyone there the was something between you and the serpent, even if nether of you saw it yourselves yet.

after it started to get dark sweet pea took you home, you both stood on your doorstep neither of you wanting to part ways from each other yet. “thank you” you said, he frowned his brows “what for?” he asked back. “everything, looking after me last night ,taking me out today it’s been amazing and your friends are not the monsters the papers say” you laugh sweet looking smug. “I told you we’re not all bad” he says as you kiss him. you didn’t know where the kiss came from but you knew if you didn’t do it, you’d would regret it later.

sweets kissed you back wrapping his arm around you bringing you closer, when you stopped “well that’s something I can get used to” he said kissing you again. As he finally left you arranged to meet him the next day, going to bed daydreaming of sweet pea, feeling happier then anytime you had during your relationship with Reggie.

You and sweets spent the whole Sunday and everyday for the next week together, mainly chilling in his trailer watching movies or hanging with the serpent’s, during the school break. On the last day before you both went back to different schools, sweets got up the courage to tell you he liked you and asked if you wanted to ditch your dog for snake. you liked sweet pea and told him you would, spending the rest of the night kissing and cuddling up.

Monday morning after the holidays finished, sweets dropped you off at school. “cant you transfer to south side” he asked with puppy dog eyes. Hearing Jodie’s voice “I wish I could” you smile at sweets kissing him. the day had been boring Kevin and veronica constantly asking where you had been during the half term break, you told them you’d met a guy being chilling with his friends, and he’s amazing before changing the subject to what they did, so they didn’t ask who your new friend was. 

Josie came in the common room her eyes went wide when she saw you. “y/n look I’m sorry I don’t know what made me do it the Al…” she stopped talking as you stood up holding put your hand for her to shut up. “don’t insult me and blame the drink we both know the was flirting with you and Reggie before the party” you tell her. Josie looked down feeling ashamed “but anyway you can keep him I’ve found someone better then him, someone who knows the meaning of loyalty” you tell them walking out the room.

During last lesson sweet pea texted you saying he’d finished school early did you want him to pick you up when you was finished. You quickly replied yes then sent the next dew minutes texting back and forth with him, a cheeky smile on you face as you did. You felt a tap on your shoulder turning to see Betty “Reggie keeps stirring at you” she says as you looked over to the other side of the classroom Reggie had a face like thunder. 

Sweet pea pulled up outside Riverdale high getting off his bike but leaned against it, he had his jacket over his shoulder hanging down his back as he watched you walk down the steps typing away on your phone not even seeing him yet. Sweets was about to shout her when he saw Reggie one of the bulldogs he’d fought with before run after her.

Reggie grabbed your shoulder “y/n wait” he said his voice leased with anger “so you going to tell me where you’ve been and why half of the school are saying your seeing some other guy” his arms folded over his chest as he spoke. You looked at him dead in the eye speaking slightly slower so he got the message “Reggie where over, we was the second you slept with Josie and yes the rumours are true” at the point out the corner of your eye, you saw sweet pea walking toward you. now Cheryl, Veronica, Kevin and the others all stood round listening to you and Reggie arguing.

you feel sweet pea put his serpent jacket round your shoulders hugging and kissing your cheek from behind, everything okay princess" sweets asks you, smirking at Reggie, “yes I was just telling Reggie that I traded an old dog for someone better” you answer. Reggie and the rest if the Riverdale high students all looked in shock gasping and gossiping. Reggie looked at you “really y/n your revenge plan was good but we both know you belong to me” he said grabbing your arm. Sweet pea knocked his arm from you “touch her like that again and watch what I do to you” sweet pea started in a chillingly calm voice “y/n doesn’t belong to you, you lost her when you when you made her feel like shit, don’t get mad when someone else shows her she’s a princess she is” he says gripping your hand bringing it to his lips for a light kiss, smiling at you.

You smile and blush back at sweet “let’s get out of here” you say as you walked with sweet pea back to his motorcycle. “y/n, stop you can’t just leave me” you heard Reggie shouting but ignored it driving off with your serpent prince.

Let’s Try It

Originally posted by ziall

(A/N: AHHH I CANT BELIEVE I GOT 500 NOTES ON MY FIRST ONE SHOT. ITS UNBELIEVABLE AND THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH GOT YOUR FEEDBACK AND LOVE IT MEANS THE ABSOLUTE WORLD!! So in this little adrenaline rush I decided to write this (when I should be really be working on my final essay) bUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY!! :* )

A little something something where Harry and Y/N have some…. hidden kinks which are discovered during their annual movie night

Harry has been at his happiest for the last 6 months. All due to one person only.

Y/N.

Since they started becoming official in those 6 months, they’ve been nothing but infatuated with each other. Completely overtaken in each other. There was no way he was letting go of her anytime soon and the feelings were mutual from her as well.

Y/N had made her way into Harry’s London apartment to continuing on their tradition of a weekend movie night. Which had all started on their second date when Harry suggested instead of going out to a fancy 5 Star restaurant to experience some fine dining. Y/N was tucked into his side with her legs lazily thrown over his lap. Harry’s free hand dropping down onto the bare skin rubbing up and down your shins, squeezing over her knee before trailing her hands back down again. She had stolen a pair of boxers shorts, wearing one of her oversized jumpers along with some festive Christmas socks. These ones had little reindeers sprawled all about, which Harry thought was the most adorablest thing he has witnessed in his life. He turned his head to look over at Y/N who was beginning to doze off as the movie settled into more of a calm, romantic pace. Harry shook his head slightly nudging her with his elbow.

“I know you aren’t falling asleep on me while Ryan Reynolds is on full display on the telly..” He murmured raising his eyebrows in a mocking manner as Y/N peeked her eyes open.

“I would never fall asleep and turn down seeing Ryan Reynold’s gorgeous, bare torso.” She tried hiding her smirk as she saw his eyebrows crease, stopping his hand on the top of her leg.

Heeeeyyy excuse me, I know he is a very handsome man, but ‘m right here ya know..” Harry grumbled jutting his lower lip as he looked away.

Y/N giggled sitting up a bit and grabbing his jaw softly peppering his cheek with repeated pecks.

“Baby don’t be like that… I’m only with you right now remember.” She rubbed his lightly scuffed jaw with her thumb as his green eyes met hers.

“Mmhmm…. I don’ believe that petal.. gonna ‘ave to prove it…’ Harry sighed out thoughtfully on purpose as his index and thumb came up to pick at his lip.

She whined our slightly pushing at his shoulder as Harry took his sweet time to figure out how she was gonna redeem herself again.

“Okay fine then, tell me you love me mor’ than Ryan Reynolds.” He propositioned tilting his head as he looked at her.

She would choose Harry any and every day over anyone or anything else. But she was curious to know what he would do if she were to be stubborn.

She wanted to push his buttons a bit just to see.

Y/N scrunched her nose looking at him. “Harry come on, don’t make me choose…” She pouts poking at his chest.

“Nu uh tell me you love me mor’ than Ryan..” He clicks his tongue shaking his head cocking an eyebrow up. “Don’t make me…”

Y/N smirked seeing him get a bit riled up. “Make you do what hmm? Gonna spank me..?”

Harry’s mouth dropped as he looked at her with doe eyes.

Spank?

If he wasn’t squirming in his sweatpants at the ways her teeth sunk into her bottom lip from time to time previously as the movie went on, he is definitely hard now.

Y/N kept her eyes on his swallowing thickly as she let the sudden realization of what she said sink into her brain. A million thoughts when through her head. They had only been dating for 6 months. They’ve had sex before, their bodies were getting well acquainted with each other. But they were both still learning all the things that could make the other person completely lose it. They were still learning each other’s bodies. Y/N could only wish a hold would just swallow her up and keep her in there forever.

She was quickly brought out of her thoughts as she felt Harry’s fingertips sneak just under the hem of the boxer shorts she wore, digging the pads lightly against her thigh.

Harry stared at her with with curious, yet soft eyes, his two front teeth digging into his bottom lip. “Did you…” he cleared his throat a bit before continuing on. “Did you mean wha’ you said ‘bout… getting spanked…?” Both their cheeked flushes bright red, Y/N dropping her eyes bashfully down into into her lap. She couldn’t feel more embarrassed as she did now.

He watched at her throat bobbed, picking at the nail polish at her fingers. Harry reaches out softly to cup the back over her neck with his hand, his thumb lightly rubbing over the skin under her ear. She was nervous. He could feel her heart pounding against her pulse point just under her jaw.

“Sweetheart… ‘s nothin’ t’be ashamed off… ‘f you’re into it..” Harry talked softly, leaning his head down a bit to meet Y/N’s eyes.

She looked at him shyly biting at the corner of her mouth before finally nodding timidly.

Harry kept his eyes on her the whole time smiling softly gently squeezing the back of her neck. “Tha’s perfect okay petal… honestly ‘f ‘m speaking myself… I think ‘s really sexy…” He murmured pressing his lips against her ear, pressing his mouth against the sensitive skin under he ear.

Y/N moved her head to the side before shutting her eyes biting her lip. All the worries she felt in her bones were slowly disappearing as his warm lips smoothed over her skin. The next thing that came out of Harry’s mouth made her heart lodge up in her throat.

“Wanna try it?”

The rhetorical question that slipped out of his mouth was more than enough to have Y/N jump in her bones and crawl into his lap. Harry smirked up at her slowly sliding his hands up and down her bare thighs, their lips meeting in a hot and heavy kiss. There was so much more hiding behind this kiss. Passion. Lust. Love. Harry equally wanted to mark her pretty bum up with his handprints just as much as she was begging for it. Her hands slipped to hold the sides of his jaw, tilting their head to the side to deepen the kiss, letting her hips move on their own accord against Harry’s. His large hands slid up to wrap around her hips, tugging them harder against the bulge over his sweatpants every time she grinded into them. Y/N whined into his mouth pulling back with a gasp as she let him take control of her hips.

“Harry… please jus….” Y/N brain was getting fuzzy, she needed him to do something, anything to keep her from making a mess of the boxers she wore. Harry looked up at her with his own plump lips pulling his hands back completely. She right about broke into a sob when he completely took his hands off of her.

“Take it off…. all of it….” Harry mumbled leaning his back against the couch.

Y/N blinked a few times to compose herself before reluctantly getting off his lap, slightly wobbling as she stood right between his legs. She slowly grabbing the hem of her sweater slipping it off her body, having gone braless for the night. Harry trailed his eyes down to her chest slowly licking over his mouth as his right hand went over the bulge over his sweatpants. She let her hair fall over her face to hide her blushing cheeks as she slide the boxers down her legs, ever so slowly. The second she stood back up again, Harry scooted himself to the edge of the couch, pressing hot kisses across her hips, hands gripping the undersides of her thighs. Y/N let’s her hand slip into his hair, feeling her tummy tremble as his breath fanned over her clit. Harry looked up at her through his eyelashes before pressing light teasing kisses over her clit. She looked down at him running one of her hands through her hair before shoving him back by his shoulders and pressing her mouth roughly against his. Harry’s huge hand cupped the side of her jaw, responding just as eager or even more, to her kisses.

Y/N hand slipped down his torso slowly to slip her hand to tuck his aching cock out of his sweatpants. Harry pulled back from her mouth letting out a airy moan, flopping his head back on the couch. Y/N looked down at the leaking tip, letting her wrist slowly twist up and down his prick.

“O.. oh my… fuck yes jus’ like tha’ pet…. mmm makin’ me feel so good…” Harry moaned looking up at her with glossy eyes. She let a smile tug at her lips before keeping her wrist steady and sinking her teeth down into the hinge of his jaw.

A growl tore its way through Harry’s through before bringing his right hand down over her left cheek. Y/N gasped against his jaw, pressing her chest against his in shock. Harry turned his head to lock eyes with her, slightly worried as she stopped her movements over his cock.

“Fuck… sweetheart was that too harsh? Didn’t mean to h-“

“Do it again.”

Harry’s jaw felt like it dropped for the millionth time for the night looking at her.

“W-what?”

“Do it again Harry.” He could see her pupils completely overtaken by the lust in her eyes.

Harry was utterly, and completely fucked.

He clenched his jaw before moving to slip himself out of his sweatpants with the assistance of Y/N, before letting her warm heat brush over the head of his cock letting both their moans fill through the living room. One of Y/N hands gripped at his shoulder before the other one wrapping snug around his cock once again. Harry dug his teeth down into his lower lip watching Y/N with dazed eyes keeping his hands over both sides of her ass, make sure she never knew when he would strike again.

The next hit Harry lied down onto her right side, it completely let Y/N’s head fall back on her shoulders, humming out at the sting. Harry leaned forwards to press his mouth against the middle of her collarbones before nipping his way up her throat. Her hand on his shoulder moving to clutch the back of his neck as Harry suckled on the side of her neck, letting both hands drop on her bum making Y/N let out a long whine. His hands greedily squeezing over the pink flesh groaning out against her skin as her hand started to move faster over his throbbing cock. He was going to explode and he knew of a much better place to be in instead of her hand.

Harry leaned down to grab her hand slightly tugging it off before looking up at her with dark eyes.

“Go on then… take what’s yours..”

Y/N looked down at him with her bottom lip trapped against her teeth before letting him position himself. She lifted her lips up just slightly before sinking down slowly and letting her jaw drop open. Harry hissed slightly looking down at where she slowly sunk down onto him.

“That’s it… nice ‘n easy fo’ me baby… my pretty girl… look so stunning with my cock in your pussy…” Harry breathed out making her letting out a squeak at the pure filth coming out of his mouth.

Y/N slowly lifted herself up before sinking down again and repeating those motions with a steady, firm speed. Harry fluttered his eyes shut digging his fingertips against her tender bum before letting his hand drop down and soothe over the bright red skin. She was losing it at how his hands felt so rough yet so soft against her aching body. Both her hands clutching the sides of his neck letting her own eyes trace over his features. His vein prominent against the right side of his neck. Eyebrows raising up every time the head of his cock nudged that spongy spot. Those utterly sinful lips that were parted and let out sounds she wishes she could hear for the rest of her life. Y/N moved her hands to hold the back of the couch on either side of her heads, rolling her hips deeper and faster against his own. Harry’s eyes propped up clenching his jaw as he clutched her hips, bringing her down harder, making her clit brush against his pelvic bone every time. Y/N cried out dropping her forehead down against her collarbones feeling her bones turn to jelly. Harry shook his head grabbing her hair softly to tug her face up in front of his. Both of them chasing their release, brains mushy, needing more than this.

“Cmon baby… give daddy everything you got… almost there aren’t we…?” Harry tugged at her hair against before holding her jaw between his other hand. His thumb lightly pressing into one side of her cheeks while his other four fingers pressed to the other side of her cheek.

Y/N throbbed even more at the nickname, giving her an adrenaline rush to get both of them to where she needed to be. Harry kept his grip on both her jaw and hair, letting his hips thrust up into hers every time she came down. Harry’s nose brushes up against Y/N’s every time he pounded up into her, making her dazed eyes squeeze shut while her mouth was open, choking over moans and whines.

Daddy I’m s-so close p-please let me cum.. please please please..” Y/N begged feeling her tummy coil and her eyes tear up from all the pleasure. Harry was melting at this point, feeling that tugging at the lower part of his stomach nodding quickly.

“‘M right behind you baby… cum for me… cum all for daddy..” Harry cooed out as Y/N started to become taut as a bow moving her hand to dig her nails into his chest. She also turned her head to pull his thumb into her mouth, lolling her tongue over the digit, holding his wrist with her free hand. Harry choked on a growl deep in his chest clenching his jaw and tugging her forehead against his.

“Such a naughty girl for daddy.. so desperate to cum right..?” Harry groaned keeping his eyes on her face which looked at him with the utmost innocence keeping her tongue lazily around his thumb. He pulled his thumb over before pressing it over her clit in quick circles to bring her to her release.

Y/N tried to squirm herself away from Harry’s hip, but it was no use as his other arm had wrapped completely around her waist to keep her against them.

“Daddy.. oh my god yes yes yes yes ye- fuck! Yes!” She gasped out clutching onto her bicep before choking out on her moans feeling her release hit her harder than a train. Harry kept his thumb over her clit to let her ride out her high before quickly pulling out and moving his other hand to rub up and down his shaft. Y/N lazily looked down moving her hand over his, pressing her lips against his ear.

“Want you to cum for me daddy… want every single drop… just for me…” She murmured against his ear letting his spine shiver once her teeth sink into that spot under his jaw, letting his load spill all over his tummy and a bit on her own, letting out low moans and grunts every time his stomach tugged more. Some of his own cum dropping down from the head, down their hands wrapped around the base. Y/N looked down at him smiling as he panting slightly trying to rid the bleariness in his eyes.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve seen in my life..” She murmured out smiling as he let the left side of his mouth quirk up in a smirk.

“I could say the same ‘bout you petal… fuck me..” Y/N giggled feeling her cheeks flush looking at him before tugging her hand up to lick up every drop they slipped down.

Harry whined shutting his eyes turning his head away. “Stop tha’ ‘m so tired…” Y/N smiles pulling her hand back, leaning down to his his cheek slowly and innocently.

“I’m done now I promise… daddy.” She smirks moving to grab his discarded shirt and wipe over his chest and abdomen slowly.

He narrows his eyes grabbing her wrist and tugging her off to flop on the couch, catching sight of her sore, red ass. “I would watch your mouth love… wouldn’t ‘ave a problem marking you up again…” he murmurs leaning down to press feather like kisses all over the red spots. Y/N giggles glancing down at him biting her finger lightly.

“Maybe this time you can put all your rings on…”

Harry already knew Y/N loved him more than Ryan Reynolds, but he wanted her to prove it.

And proved she did.

Of tender & imprudent touches

[Read on ao3 if you like]

Sherlock always hated having his hair ruffled or having someone play with his curls, having someone run his fingers through the soft strands he’s spent hours taming in front of the mirror. 

Even when he was a still child, he always dreaded people’s hands on his head because they never knew how sensitive he was, how badly it hurt when their fingertips grazed over his scalp too firmly, when the pressure was too much to bear with the engine of a brain inside his skull that simply never shut off, rattling and steaming, roaring and raging. 

Before he and John are truly a thing, and yet having moved past the stage of ‘we’re just best friends’, his touches are frequent; on his shoulder when Sherlock’s head is buried in the newspaper during breakfast and John walks around the table to get a refill of his coffee, on his wrist during a cab ride in which none of them says anything and they only exchange silent but all-knowing glances as their lips curl upwards, on his ankle when Sherlock’s feet rest in John’s lap when they watch the evening news or a film that Sherlock half-watches, half-predicts. Sherlock is content with how things are progressing, evolving between them, slowly but steadily.

One night, he’s on the verge of falling asleep on the sofa, but still awake enough to feel a blanket being laid over him, wrapped around him, so he doesn’t get cold. A pair of warm lips brushes over his forehead before he hears the receding sound of two feet clad in woollen socks. 

It’s a few nights later that Sherlock dares to rest his head instead of his feet in John’s lap. John looks surprised at first, but then he smiles as one of his hands finds its place on Sherlock’s shoulder. They’re watching the latest bond movie that John has on DVD, and Sherlock is unexpectedly quiet. John’s body is warm, and his fingers draw soothing circles on Sherlock’s shoulder blade. As the movie continues, John’s fingers begin their journey. They swirl around a few curls on the back of Sherlock’s neck, and although Sherlock freezes a little and goes rigid involuntarily, in fear it might be too much, but he starts to enjoy it after a while. John notices, of course he does, and quietly asks, “this all right?” He’s the first to ever ask him this question before touching him.

Sherlock wants to nod, but his head feels heavy and comfortable, so he hums “mhm,” instead. It’s only his nape he focuses on, but it’s enough for now. It’s just right.

And so John keeps going, and he grows to love it. He enjoys it so much it becomes a regular occurrence. At least when they’re in private; when nobody sees. During movie nights, or crap-telly nights or quiet nights in front of the fire. He progresses slowly, always starting in the back of his neck, sometimes that’s all he touches, but as time passes, he ventures further, running his hand through the curly, messy mop on Sherlock’s head. And God, the first time he does it, Sherlock’s entire body is covered in goosebumps. He shivers and can’t help but let out a muffled gasp. John’s hand retreats then, pulling back enough as to not overwhelm him, but never completely, never all at once. 

One night, they come back home from an exhausting case that has lasted for over a week. And this time, it’s not adrenaline they feel from having solved it, no, there’s none of that, as rare as it may be, but this time, they’re both drained, fatigued, and knackered. Sherlock hasn’t slept in days, and when he did, his brain wouldn’t shut off properly; John’s only taken power-naps, which have lost its power-giving function on day three. Sherlock is so worked up, adrenaline and weariness fighting for the upper hand inside him, he lets his coat and jacket fall over the backrest of his armchair and sits down, groaning in frustration. His fingers dig hard into his curls, pulling, pressing against his scalp, almost tearing, to make it stop, to just make it quiet. But it won’t, the engine simply rattles on, puffing and blowing and–

releasing steam when …

two hands reach for his own, unclench his fists and remove his hands from the raging machine inside him. “Come on,” John whispers almost inaudibly, pulling him to his feet. “Into bed with you.”

“I––”

“I know,” is all John says as he guides him down the corridor, into Sherlock’s bedroom. The room is dark except for the light shining through the window from the street lamps. 

Sherlock stands there, frozen on the spot. He can hear John exhale quietly and see the tired smile on his lips, and then there are fingers on the buttons of his shirt, pushing each one through its hole. John makes quick work of it; there is nothing suggestive about it as it should be, considering he is undressing him for the first time since … well, this started. But they’re both too tired to think too hard about it or to care, and then Sherlock’s shirt is gone, and he steps out of his trousers and leaves his socks on the floor, and is led to his bed. He doesn’t know how he managed to tell John “Stay,” but somehow he does, and John’s smile widens despite the weight that pulls his lids down and makes his eyes seem so small. 

“I’ll be right there,” he tells Sherlock whose fingers cling to the sleeve of John’s jumper that now slips through them like sand. Then he disappears in the dark hall. Sherlock hears the door of their cupboard closing and the tap running,  then there are steps growing louder, and then John is back, handing him a glass of water. “Drink,” he says quietly, and Sherlock does without hesitation. Before he finishes, John has already stripped down to his vest and pants and is now sliding into bed behind him. It feels exciting and new, making his chest tingle and his heart beat faster. John takes the glass from him once he emptied it and sets it down on the bedside table. Sherlock turns towards him, resting his head on John’s shoulder, feeling how an arm winds around him protectively and pulls him closer. One hand lies on his waist, but the other disappears in his hair and stays there, motionless at first, and when John feels it’s all right to move, he does so slowly and gently and tenderly. 

Sherlock already expects the worst, waiting for the explosion to set off, but nothing of the sort happens. Instead, the buzzing quietens down, the rattling slowly comes to a halt. He dares to take a deep breath. The machine stays silent and still. John has found the off-switch. 

“‘nk you,” he mumbles wearily against John’s chest. 

“No need,” John whispers, and then, “Sleep well, love.” 

If Sherlock weren’t so tired, he’d properly process what John has just said, but instead, he succumbs and is dragged into the peaceful darkness his body has been craving for days, ineffably grateful that the touch of the person who matters the most doesn’t feel excruciating and agonising but soothing, comforting and breathtakingly pleasant. 

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anonymous asked:

Can you do 13 and 23?

#13 “i could kiss you right now!”

So, I’ve combined these requests to give you this. Sorry it took a little long. I’ve been pretty busy with school, but i finally got a bit of down time to write this out. Hope you like it, and thanks for the request :) xx

When Harry had called Y/N and asked her to meet him at a local cafe between their two flats just off campus, she figured it was just for a quick meet up like they usually did. So, she’d donned a jacket to protect against the biting cold of a late fall day in London and trekked her way the short walk from her flat to the warm shoppe.

Harry and Y/N had met their first year of uni during their very first class of the year, and they’d been pretty good mates ever since. It was the first time either of them had been in London for more than a day’s trip, both having been from other parts of England. Harry was from Holmes Chapel, a small village in Cheshire, and Y/N was from Malmesbury, a similarly small village in Wiltshire. They’d bonded over their humble upbringings and their similar tastes in music, as well as their love for baking. It also helped that they were both studying law and were in many of the same classes and made sure they were always together for any projects and study groups.

Three years in, they were thick as thieves, and they spent most of their free time together with the occasional added company of Niall, an Irishman whom Harry shared a flat with, and Y/N’s own flatmate, Penelope. Harry and Y/N remained the closest out of the bunch, though, and many mistook them for a couple, even though there’d never even been an inkling of anything other than platonic love in their friendship. They usually just laughed it off, and Y/N only really blushed when Penelope brought it up now. 

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Whipped...Boyfriend!!...(PT.3)

I’m sorry it’s taking forever to update, but thank you for being patient and sticking around!

If you haven’t, this follows the Whipped Friends series which you can read here

And then this came to be. You can read part1 and part2 first if you’d like.

Flashbacks*



Every tear that slipped, every muffled cry that got caught in his throat, every heart breaking sigh made Y/N break just a little more. Her Harry’s breaking down right before her eyes and she doesn’t know what to do, what to say, to make him feel better.

It’s never been this bad either. On days when he didn’t feel like himself, whether it was because he was feeling under the weather or just having a bad work day, a bath and a cuddle normally did the trick.

He would get home from a particularly bad day, body slumped and feet practically dragging on the floor. And Y/N would be sat on the couch in one of Harry’s shirts and a pair of boy shorts, feet propped on the coffee table, flipping through channels, the rim of a glass of red wine between her lips. She’d glance his way when a soft ‘hey, love’ escaped his lips, and she’d look at the way his tall frame would walk over to where she was, and knowing what was to come, she’d sit up straight and plant both feet on the white carpet, wine glass sat on the table. He’d offer her a small smile before toeing off his shoes and plopping down at the edge of the couch, giving himself enough room that when he lies down, his head would rest on her lap, eyes meeting hers. Only then would she ask what was wrong, and feeling safe, Harry would tell her about how his day went from bad to worse. She would let his fingers play with hers, his other hand resting on top of his chest, sometimes mindlessly fiddling with his necklace. She’d hear him out and nod accordingly, speaking when necessary while the fingers on her free hand worked to pull at his hair in twists. And Harry would feel better after, he always did. Just having his Y/N listen to him and empathise is all he needed sometimes, Harry just felt like he needed to be heard.

And that’s what she did. No matter the situation, even before they started dating. Y/N always made time for Harry, as did he for her.

She would listen and give him advice. When they were best friends she would gladly take on Harry’s problems, and she would console him the best she could by doing things Harry enjoyed, to get his mind off things until they came up with a solution together.

She still listens, and gives advice, now that they’re dating. She still takes on his problems, and she’ll console him the best she can by still doing things Harry enjoys. They’ll go out for late dinners, Harry still choosing to sit next to her, taking the chance to lay his head on her shoulder, arms crossed as they think up a solution to his problem. They’ll go for walks around town, popping by their favourite little cafe for coffee on a nice chilly day, and stay for a bit to chat to their favourite waitress. She’ll gladly watch rom-coms until the next day, too, and pepper him with kisses when she gets the chance.

But now, she’s not so sure that would even help.

What can she do? Other than let him get it out, let him sulk as she stays kneeled in between his thighs. The room’s fallen into a heart breaking silence, and no matter how many times Y/N’s pleaded with him, begged him to tell her what’s wrong, Harry hasn’t budged, hasn’t muttered a single word other than the phrase ’m'sorry, love. M'so so sorry.’ It’s the only thing he’s said since he wrapped his arms around her, grip tight like if he was scared that if he let go she wouldn’t be there. His sobs rack his body uncontrollably, she can feel the heaving of chest against her own in attempts to gain control, failed attempts to stop crying. She feels his hot breath on her neck every time he whispers those words, and it’s starting to scare her, not knowing exactly what he’s sorry for.

All she knows, all she sees when she finally pulls away from his tight embrace is red bitten lips. His cheeks blotched a dark tint of pink, and damp from the tears that’ve finally stopped. His eyes are red and puffy, eyelashes wet. Nose red from when he’d rubbed at it with the back of his hand to rid it of any snot.

“Need t'take a shower,” is all he says.

He’s not meeting her gaze.

“Harry-” she begins. She needs to know what’s wrong. She needs to know what he’s sorry for.

“G'na take a shower.” His head is pounding, the pulsing on his temples sending him into a daze the second he makes any effort to push himself up off the chair. He can’t remember the last time he cried this much.

But his head hurts, his eyes hurt, his throat hurts…his heart hurts.

And he can’t bear to look at the woman he’s hurt.

Heart heavy, he makes his way to the bathroom, heel of his hand pressing into his eyes.

He strips down, movements too weak that it seems he’s taking longer just to remove his shirt. When his feet hit the cold tiles of the walk in shower and the hot water begins to trickle down his back, he lets himself break down for the second time since he’s stepped foot in the house. He stands under the shower head, hoping the steam that’s building up mixed with the sensation of water washing over his body would relax him in the slightest, but it doesn’t. Of course it doesn’t.

Now, he’s gotta decide. Does he tell her now, or does he wait.

***

“You’d think Netflix would stop asking if we’re still watching after the tenth time of clickin’ yes,” Harry laughs, pressing the button to assure the telly that yes, they’re still wide awake.

They’ve been binging on the US version of The Office ever since Harry mischievously woke her from a nap.

She’d seemed spent when she got to his, instantly letting her body fall on his comfy white sofa. Harry had stepped away for no more than five minutes to fetch a blanket, only to find her asleep when he walked back into the sitting area. He’d taken off her shoes for her, leaving her to rest for about two hours, until he got bored of course. He’d finished the book he was reading, and had even taken some time to jot down ideas on his brown leather journal. When he had nothing else to write, he’d tiptoed back into the room, undoing the bun his hair was in and slipping the hair tie on his wrist. He had admired the way she looked, so serene, lips parted slightly to allow her lungs to fill with air. He thought maybe, if he pressed his lips to hers and she didn’t wake up, he’d finally find out what she tastes like. He’d always wondered. But no, he couldn’t. Not his best friend. Not like that and definitely not if it might ruin things. So he pushed the thought to the back of his mind and instead grinned cheekily, taking a few strands of his hair in between his fingers and bringing the edges of it to the apples of her cheek. He choked back laughs as he tickled at her temples, then just behind her exposed ear, and to the top of her lip. Harry’s eyes smiled at the way her brows knitted, and she’d brought the pads of her fingers to scratch where his hair lingered. It’d taken a good five minutes until she’d finally gotten up in disgruntlement, knuckled at her still tired eyes, and lightly pulled at Harry’s hair only for him to over dramatise the gesture and tumble forward, over the back of the sofa, and on top of her still laying body.

Harry had laughed at Y/N’s incapability to push him up and off her, his body clearly much stronger. And she’d only settled when Harry sat up, wrapped an arm over her shoulder, and pulled her up and into him, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. They’d talked about her day for a bit until Y/N insisted they watch the telly, and Harry couldn’t help but feel like there was something she wasn’t telling him, but he obliged none the less.

So now here they are, arguing over how Jim hasn’t said anything about his crush to Pam.

“What was that??” Y/N’s so involved in the show that Harry thinks she thinks if she screams loud enough at the telly, somehow the characters will be able to hear her.

“Harry, did you see that??” She moves to sit up, taking Harry’s arm with her.

“Paper, love. They do work at a paper company y'know.” She scolds him, stare kept no more than a second before she’s turning back to the telly.

“But why’d he take it? Didn’t he put it there for her to read!” She wasn’t questioning the fact that Pam was meant to see it, rather stated that Jim meant to give it to her for a reason.

“Maybe he changed his mind.” Harry knew what that would set off.

“Ugh-” she grunts, plopping back into his chest with force, but not enough to really bother him any, “why can’t he just tell her! Would save a lot of trouble.”

“S'not as easy as it seems, kitten.”

It never is.

“But-” she chokes out, “why?” Her voice small, hurt.

“Hey,” he whispers, like you would to get the attention of a sad toddler, “hey. Wha’s wrong, kitten?” He feels like there might be more to it than just Jim discouragement to tell Pam he likes her.

The light emitting from the TV allows him to see the single tear that’s making its way down her cheek, and he reaches out to wipe it with his thumb.

She laughs half-heartedly, “nothing, nothing. M'fine.”

But all it takes is that look. All Harry has to do is stare at her long and enough, and right into his arms she goes, sobbing and shaking.

It isn’t long until his white tee is soaked at the shoulder, his best friend clenching by where it’s ripped in a hole.

Harry rubs at her back when he moves her to sit on his lap. He sighs into her hair, eyes closed and chest heavy just at the thought of her hurting. His large hand strokes her hair as he rocks her back and forth. And when she seems calm enough, he detaches himself to look at her face, his hands reaching out, removing the strands of hair sticking to her cheeks, thumbs caressing at the flushed skin.

“Who did this to ye’, pet?” He’s pleading for her to tell him.

But she doesn’t say anything, just nods her head no and wipes harshly at her eyes to dry them.

“C'mon then.” He pats at her thighs once, and Y/N tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as gets up off his lap.

Harry kisses her forehead and whispers “be right back” before clicking the telly off and disappearing into the hallway in the direction of his room.

“Here.” He reappears with his long black coat on, his beige jumper in hand, handing it to her with a small smile. And yes it’s much too big for her, but it smells like Harry. And that’s okay.

She might not want to tell him exactly what she’s got going on, but he’ll be damned if he’s just gonna sit around not doing anything to lift her spirits up.

“Harry,” she whines. She really doesn’t feel like going out, not for the next year at least.

“Please, kitten. Jus’ put m'jumper on.”

She doesn’t question him after that. He hands her her shoes from where he’d placed them, and slips on his own.

They walk down the streets in silence with their hands in their pockets, Harry occasionally glancing to make sure she was okay.

“Know ye’ too well, kitten,” he says, hoping to get her to talk to him.

“M'fine, H.” And again, a weak smile he’d come to know as her 'tell’ in situations like this.

They’re nearing a corner when a body bumps into her.

“Sorry. M'sorry-” the guy starts, “Y/N?”

“Oh, hey man.” Harry greets, nodding his head once as an informal 'hello’.

She tenses up.

“Hey, Harry,” the hello’s rather quick as he turns his attention back to Y/N.

“Y/N, can we talk?” He reaches a hand out, but she steps back from his reach.

Harry notices how she’s looking anywhere but at her boyfriend.

The man glances at Harry once, a flash of irritation in his eyes.

“I need to talk to you,” and this time he grips her arm. All Harry does is stare at where he touches her, eyebrows knitted in…concern. Maybe even anger. And he can’t ignore the fact that his tummy had tighten in…jealousy?

Harry doesn’t need to see more, the situation clearly uncomfortable for her, so he removes the man’s hand, “don’ think she wants to, man.”

He snaps, “doesn’t concern you Harry. She’s my girlfriend.”

“Was.” It’s the first she’s said since they’d left his place.

“No. I just, let me-” he takes another step towards her, and this time Harry wedges himself in between them, one hand finding Y/N’s behind him, the other firm on the guy’s chest to halt any other actions.

He tries to look at her, eyes pleading, but Harry’s body seems to shield all of her from his view.

“I’m sorry okay.”

Y/N turns her head to avoid the man she thought she once knew as he makes his way around Harry and past her, the sob that’d been caught in her chest erupting from her throat.

“Wha’ happened?”

If Harry recalls correctly, he remembers Y/N was completely smitten with that guy. It was as clear as day when she first introduced him, eyes brighter than Harry had ever seen. And Harry was courteous with the bloke. Made conversation when Y/N brought him to gatherings, but they were never really friends, per-se. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was either. Maybe because she’d stopped going to his, making the trip only once in a while and no longer staying at his when he asked. Maybe Harry was jealous because for the year or so they dated; he had to share Y/N with another man.  No, not maybe, definitely, but he’d never admit that.

Y/N wipes at her eye harshly, a tear already threatening to fall.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” And she’d kept walking along.

***

Harry presses his forehead to the shower wall, tile cool despite the temperature in the room due to the hot water. He remembers that day. It was the first time he’d seen her that broken. It was the first time he realized how fragile she really was.

He also remembers the night she’d revealed to him the reason for the breakup. It was the same night he’d confessed his love for her. They had been talking about everything and anything, and after Harry confessed that she was the reason for the lads’ teasing, she’d shyly mumbled 'y'know. That’s why my last relationship didn’t work out.’

He’d been confused at first, until she’d explained that her ex had become overbearing. He had compiled an endless, and frankly absurd, amount of reasons for why he thought she was cheating. He’d admitted that he was very wary of Harry. He’d insisted and insisted that surely Harry didn’t want just a friendship from Y/N. It’d started with 'a guy knows when another guy is into his girlfriend.’ Which turned into 'I see the way you two look at each other’ until it became everything he could talk about. She’d tried to explain more than once that it wasn’t at all like what he thought. That Harry and her were only friends. But of course that didn’t help. Not when her ex knew them before he’d expressed an interest in her, not when he saw them cuddling at gatherings, or sharing lingering glances.

She told Harry how she tried to make it work, tried to defuse the situation, but when her ex had gone banging on her flat door, drunk and in the mood to fight, is when she’d called it quits. She told Harry how she wasn’t going to stand for it, not after he’d yelled harsh words, accusing her of having an affair and calling her a whore.

Harry remembers it all because it was the same night he’d promised he’d never hurt her in any sort of way. He didn’t want to be the cause of her sadness.

But now here he is, in a position he could never have thought he’d be in.

He exits the bathroom to find his bedroom empty, curtains still closed, rays of light illuminating a picture of the both of them in its respective frame. He walks to the dresser to pull out a pair of briefs and shorts.

Meanwhile Y/N’s been sat quietly on the white, soft sofa. Telly background noise to her thoughts, a foot tucked under her knee and her hands clasped together on her lap.

Her head whips up when she hears footsteps nearing from behind to see Harry, damp hair and all making his way to her.

She says nothing, rather watches meticulously at the way his body moves, a hand running through his hair to push the wet strands slickly back, his nose scrunching for a second and his eyebrows knitting.

“What’re we watching?” He coughs into his fist before taking a seat next to her and giving her a small smile, his hand on her bare thigh.

It feels like she hasn’t heard his voice in a hot minute.

When she doesn’t answer, Harry turns his head to press a kiss to her temple, allowing his lips to linger and his eyes to close as he breathes in her scent.

“I love you, y'know tha’ right?” His thumb rubs her skin, state holding hers.

She’s somewhat relieved to hear that, but it doesn’t settle her worries fully.

She nods anyway.

“Love you, too.”

Are You Okay? - Harry Styles Imagine

You were grinning ear to ear, there was no doubt about that. Harry had finally gotten back from his trip to Jamaica and you couldn’t wait to actually see him face-to-face, not just through a phone screen. FaceTime could only give those swoon worthy dimples so much justice. You had been texting him since he woke this morning, planning to see him for breakfast this morning, and found yourself practically jumping in the drivers seat of your car as you drove to the small cafe you had agreed on. 

“Uh, I have someone waiting for me,” you address the waitress, the brunette’s mouth gapes open upon looking up and seeing you standing there. She nods and then points off towards the back, and you can’t miss that mop of hair in the booth - even with his back to you. 

“He’s back there,” the hostess manages to say. In which you thank her and stop yourself from running over to where Harry was sitting. 

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‘A Devious Act X (Epilogue)’ - H.S. Divorce Series

Originally posted by thestylesgifs

Words: 2,909

Pairing: Harry Styles & (Y/N) (Y/L/N)

Warnings: Swearing, and mentions of divorce.

This is the epilogue to the series. I’m so glad that you guys liked it! Thank you!

P.S. I changed my username, so ignore that. 

Requests are OPEN

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine


Time went by, at first, the thought and ordeal of the situation didn’t pass through her system. She was up at night, rolling in her white sheets of her bed. It was too much to stomach. But, time heals wounds, and she had faith in it.

(Y/N) realised a month into winning court that that quote is correct. Of course, internally at the break of dawn, she had guilt for what she did to Harry, but her thoughts were crashed and disappeared like any morning with a six-year-old, crawling in bed with her; giving her her morning cuddles. She liked these moments, the love shared between a mother and daughter. Ivy enjoyed these moments too.

She didn’t know how to explain at first of what had occurred to her children. Alfie was still too young to understand what the meaning of this all means, but it will affect him in the long run; growing up with no father. There were nights, at first, where the screams echoed through her newly bought townhouse, pained her. A child, her daughter calling for her daddy, but she couldn’t give her him. The feeling of being a mother and loving your child more than you love yourself, the cries that are carried from them, the pain and burden that can be heard in their voice, but you can’t help them. You’d do anything for them, but nothing can fix this small thing. That was one of the hurtful parts of this new change.

Five weeks later, after the event, she wasn’t up to it anymore. The love that was given to her by Niall. Yes, she enjoyed her time with him, but her heart still ached. It still aches and whimpered for the feeling of Harry. She couldn’t replace him right away, heartbreak takes time to heal. (Y/N) realised that Niall and she could possibly happen in the future. But, she didn’t want to hurt him with him being a rebound. He deserved better. It wasn’t just that, but she didn’t crave love at the moment. More as, she was scared of it. Therefore she ended it, and he understood the reasons, which she was thankful for. But, it was too soon, too soon for her, and the kids.

She never intended to block Harry out of her life; realising these three months into her new beginning. If he was to show up tomorrow on her doorstep, she wouldn’t tell him to fuck off and leave her alone. She would think that she would invite him in, make a cup of tea and talk about life, the universe and everything around it. But, overthinking it and imagining it, made her stomach turn. (Y/N) was still not ready.

Months went by and (Y/N) continued her life, she began working again, but only part-time. She went away on vacation sometimes or visited her family. Through those times, she didn’t get a call from Niall or Harry, which surprised her. The restraining order that was placed, weakened and was gone now. But, a little side of her wanted to open the door once again and see his face.


The first week was the worst. Scratch that, every fucking day was the worse. He was scraped clean, everything that held him together was taken. Every meaning of his life was gone. He was a walking corpse, in his eyes. Harry didn’t do anything anymore. He didn’t go out with his friends, he didn’t write songs or play music. He just moped every day. There was nothing holding him grounded. His mother came out to see him every chance she got, worried sick with the fact that he was not taking care of himself no longer. Anne walked in to see that everything was the same, the beer bottles that laid the living room. The pizza boxes or Chinese that were placed in where ever he ate that day. He wasn’t healthy.

He resulted to alcohol to seize the pain, but sometimes it didn’t work. He was lost in a way. He didn’t know where his existence was placed, anymore. His life was now, beer, a bed, and terrible television. Some days he would stare at the ceiling and hope it was all a dream. Harry knew he shouldn’t dwell on it, it was his fault anyway, but he shouldn’t have fought. He regretted fighting.

Six months later was the first time that he left his house. That morning he woke up looking refreshed, there was no present eyebags or bloodshot eyes. No blemished skin or messy hair. He looked normal. It was the first time that he wore something proper instead of a shirt and sweats. It was the first time that he groomed himself and looked like a gentleman again. He wasn’t ready to date, or anything. He simply had to get up, and that confidence could never occur again. So he went out.

The London street didn’t feel the same as he thought he first felt it as. It was like, there was an adventure, that there was something in life that was meant to come. He saw people past him, some in a hurry, some walking slow, others looking at their phone or on the phone, and some bumping their shoulders into his. The first real human contact.

He heard the murmurs of people telling him to watch out or the conversations that came up next to him. Everyone here has a life, everyone here has a place to go, maybe at the moment or maybe later on that day. The guy wearing the suit a few metres ahead of him, yelling on the phone, might have a wife to get home too, and possibly a few kids as well. A young man walked swiftly past him, looking as though he was late. An intern, probably. He might have a girlfriend, a family, and a home. A purpose and a passion towards life. Harry felt left out, in all honesty. He needed what they had, he craved it.

He walked past a café that caught his eye. Seeing an elderly couple laugh with one another, a young looking university student, who could possibly be studying for an exam. A couple that could be on the first date. The place wasn’t dead or busy, it was normal. Every person there was enjoying themselves, and he wanted to as well. Therefore he walked in.

Harry still remembers her order. The first date that they went on, was to a coffee shop. He remembered her order so clearly. It wasn’t a complicated one, but it wasn’t a normal one as well. He hasn’t been to a coffee shop since (Y/N) moved out, since he demanded a divorce. It was as if the place held a memory, a good memory and past. He didn’t want to ruin it.

“Ah, sir, what can I get you?” his trace was taken, by a male teenager who gave him a weird, bothered look. Harry didn’t even realise it was his turn. That was the thing lately, his mind has been somewhere else, constantly.

“Uhh, sorry. Can I get a vanilla latte, with a shot of caramel creamer?” the boy placed the order on the computer as he looked around.

“To stay or to go?”

“To stay, thank you.” he paid the man and went to the other side, patiently waiting for his drink.

He picked up on conversations, deeply knowing it was rude to listen, but he needed some sort of excitement in his life at the moment. He wanted to hear something good. He looked around, seeing a small booth behind him, noting that was where he shall sit. Harry went to the entrance of the small coffee shop and picked up a newspaper that might bore him to death, but at least he was doing something.

“A vanilla latte with a shot of caramel creamer, for Harry.” he heard his order, going back to till and picking it up, saying a quick ‘thank you’ to the man making his drink.

He cosied in the booth, picking up the newspaper and reading the local news. He hasn’t read it since he could remember. (Y/N) was obsessed with it, thinking that everyone should know what is happening around them. He remembered every night at dinner, the telly would be on with the local news. Her invested in some topics and others with not a single interest.

Harry looked at his phone after a while; the newspaper was too boring for his taste. He knew that the gossip magazines knew about the situation between him and (Y/N). Of course, they knew. What a headline! Harry Styles and wife, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) getting a divorce after Harry cheated or cheating! It spread like wildfire, a topic at the dinner table. Maybe living in utter confinement made it die down, but he’ll never know, he had no interest.

A bell happened moments later, he was invested in replying to emails he hasn’t looked at in months. He heard the footsteps coming in. It wasn’t just one person, but two. He had no interest in it. People can be people. People have their own business.

A female voice spoke up, talking to a young girl. It was something he recognised. He looked up from his coffee to see over. His eyes widen, and lips slightly parted. He just placed himself together, and she was back to crumble his walls once again. (Y/N) stood roughly two and a half metres from him. It wasn’t just her, but Ivy was there too and Alfie, who was clingy onto her like nobody’s business. She looked good, she looked stable and not slowly dying inside as he was. She looked happy.

“Ivy, sweetie, we’re are not getting you a large hot chocolate. You won’t finish it, let alone, Mummy can finish one.” he saw her bend down to their daughter’s height, a smile was on her lips and Alfie was playing with her braid.

“Can I get whip cream then?” she settled, (Y/N) laughed, looking back up to the barista, “How about extra?” she poked her nose, and a giggle came out of her.

“Hi, can I get a large London Fog, and two kids hot chocolate with extra whip cream? Ha, missy?” she told him while looking down at their daughter.

“Anything to eat?” the teenager who took his order was taking hers as well, but he was more pleased with her. Nice, and possibly, flirty.

“Can I get a muffin and a Rice Krispie bar for Alf and her?” she now paid attention to their son, tickling him gently. His hair was longer, the blonde curls more exaggerated. She was always jealous that her kids got perfect curls, that he got perfect curls and she didn’t. That thought brought a smile to him.

“One more question miss,” he began,

“Go ahead,” she replied a smile on her features still.

“To stay or to go?”

“I can’t trust these two with mugs or glass cups, and I don’t want to bother you with dishes, so let just do to go cups. I think that would be easier,” she told him, placing Alfie on his feet, and going through her bag, looking for her wallet.

The small family made their way to the waiting till, after (Y/N) paid. Alfie was being very independent, as Harry watched, trying not to be noticed. Alfie was walking by himself, and not holding onto his mummy like he used to when Harry was in their life. Ivy was talking about an art project she was doing at school, as (Y/N) listened. She was invested in her, that was one thing he loves her for, she listens.

“What are you going to paint then?” she asked, thanking the barista for the first drink. She placed the drink on the counter, taking a sip, and calling for the man back.

“I feel so bad to bother you, but can you add a bit of cold water. I’m giving this to my baby over there, and I don’t want it to hurt him.” the barista agreed and walked back.

“I’m going to paint a butterfly,” Ivy told her, taking the other hot chocolate from the counter that has a lid on and drinking a bit of it.

“Thank you.” she gave the new one with the fresh cold water to Alfie, watching him drink it lightly, making sure, he doesn’t tip the cup and spill it.

“Butterflies are pretty, but why a butterfly?” Ivy was very intelligent for a six-year-old, therefore she wasn’t surprised by her answer. (Y/N) still waited for her drink patiently, taking the muffin and putting it in her purse, while she took the rice Krispie and halved it; giving a piece to both her kids.

“We are supposed to paint an animal that we feel is like us. I picked the butterfly because it reminds me of daddy, and Nana says I look like daddy.” she was shocked, nodding furiously, and watching as Alfie ran off.

His daughter’s response caught his attention, a smile and warm-hearted feeling coming upon him. His daughter still loves him, and (Y/N) didn’t shush the topic or anything. He looked to his right and smiled at his little boy, who was making his way to him. Harry didn’t know what to do, his baby is coming, but he hasn’t seen him for months.

The little one stopped in his tracks, before Harry, handing him the piece of rice Krispie. The biggest smile came on Harry’s face.

“Alfie, baby. We are not going to bug this lovely gentleman here.” he heard her come up behind him. (Y/N) hasn’t even looked up yet, and just tried to grab his hand, in which Alfie pulled back, and created a small fussing sound.

“Alf, that’s your snack, poppet. Mummy wants you to eat it, and it is very yummy,” he told him, tickling his belly a bit. That is when she looked up, a complete shock was written on her face; eyes open, mouth gently parted. She didn’t pull him away or anything. Her attention was drawn to something else though.

“A London fog for (Y/N).” she turned away and heading back to the till. That is when he took his advantage. He picked up Alfie and set him on his lap, holding him closer than he ever thought he could. Harry grabbed the snack from him, and pulled it in little pieces and gave it to him. Something he truly misses.

“Ivy, lovey, can you go to where Alfie is?” Ivy looked at her with a sceptical look, and nodded, following her mother.

The look on Ivy’s face was the best look she has ever seen on her daughter’s face. The smile and realization hit her that her daddy was right in front of her. (Y/N) took Alfie out from Harry’s arms, to let him hug and hold his daughter.

“Here, you can have both of them. I can sit on the other side.” he nodded, watching as his daughter sat next to him, and Alfie was on his lap.

“Just watch out-”

“He won’t spill, love, I’m watching him.” she nodded, looking down.

“Um, how are you?” she said, watching as he plays with the kids on the other side.

“I’m good…now. You don’t have to be anywhere?” he said, she chuckled.

“No.”

“No curfew from Niall?” she looked and sighed.

“Niall and I aren’t together anymore, H. I haven’t seen him in like five months.”

The two talked, she smiled and laughed at his jokes, a feeling that he never remembered what felt like. He missed it. He missed her and the kids. Harry was, of course, glad that she was doing ok, that she is happy and working. Having a life, and creating a good environment for the kids. She could definitely do this single parent thing.

“Harry, I would like to say, I haven’t completely forgiven you. That’ll take time. But, it was wrong for me to kick you out of their lives. Ivy cries at night sometimes for you and there isn’t anything I can do. I feel stupid saying this, Harry, and pathetic, but I miss you too. I want you back in their life. I think its fair. I am not saying that we should get back together, but I want our kids to have a father, and I think it is fair to them.” she said, looking down. He too, looked down, seeing a sleepy boy on him, resting his head on his arm, and gentle breaths coming out.

“I would like that too.”

“Ok, uh, Ivy has an art show in a few days. I think Iv would really like it if you came. Right, babe?” she looked up and nodded.

“Thank you (Y/N), thank you so fucking much.” she smiled and chuckled.

“Just don’t fuck it up, Styles.”

anonymous asked:

I NEED A HEAD CANNON OF HUDDERS FINDING OUT AND BEING A SUPPORTIVE MOM!

OH OH OH OH Okay Nonny!

A continuation of this scene here I wrote, from Hudders’ POV!!  SORT OF inspired by the Caught in the Act series by Shirley Carleton because seriously that’s kinda what this will be and I’m sorry if any of it is similar… I haven’t read the series in a year or so, so any similarities are coincidental <3


She couldn’t help herself; Martha Hudson loved cooking for the two tenants she loved as if they were her own sons. 

She had heard them stumble in an hour ago, for they were never, ever quiet whenever they entered into 221 Baker Street; tonight John and Sherlock were talking animatedly, and it sounded like John was in the process of mollycoddling Sherlock once again, mentioning something about patching up a cut on his face, she thinks. She had brought them up some blueberry scones earlier in the afternoon, since she knew that her boys might have the nibbles upon returning from a case. Upon hearing their lighthearted bickering and bounding gait up to flat B, she thought tonight they would absolutely appreciate a home-cooked meal as well.

She wasn’t their housekeeper, she just really loved her tenants when they were in a joyful mood, and they never turned down a delicious vegetarian shepherd’s pie. She could put them in an even better mood, she thinks, with a hearty dinner and a pot of tea!

She had been watching some “insipid garbage” (as Sherlock would call it) when the timer on her oven had beeped its reminder that the pie was done. Smiling to herself, she shut off the telly, then the oven, and put on her mitts. An aroma of cooked vegetables escapes as the oven door opens, and the pie follows as Martha pulls it out and places it on a trivet which had seemed to have a permanent place of pride on her counter since John had returned home (John did so love her baking and the poor boy, always so busy taking care of their Sherlock that he hardly ever took care of himself!). She closes the oven and makes her way out of her flat and up to flat B.

It’s only when she makes it to the first landing that she becomes aware of the muffled grunting coming from the general direction of Sherlock’s room, and then a loud moan that was definitely Sherlock. 

And that cry of “OH GOD, SHERLOCK!” was most definitely John. 

She stops suddenly, eyes wide, and a Cheshire grin cracking from ear to ear. Could it be…?! Have they FINALLY got themselves sorted? She stifles a chuckle of glee, and decides that her curiosity may indeed be the death of her, but at least she will die happy KNOWING.

Quietly, she pads up the remaining steps, and tests the door: open – her boys rarely ever locked it. She turns the knob quietly, then pushes the door gently with her hip. 

The creaking of Sherlock’s bed, a loud thump of the headboard against the wall, Sherlock’s breathy moans and John’s growling confirms her suspicions, and she can’t help herself: “Woo hoo, boys!”

Chaos is heard in the room down the hall: sounds of someone falling onto the floor, an utterance of “FUCK!!! SHIT!” is cursed aloud, and what sounds like wrestled fumbling with the ensuite’s door, followed by the door to the hallway slammed closed with a bang. Water is heard running in there while more sounds of scurried movement come from Sherlock’s room, and loud, sharp whispers which sound like “locked the door” and “thought you did” are tossed between the ensuite and the bedroom.

“HUDDERS!!” Sherlock cries out in what Martha perceives as annoyance, “we’re a tad busy being busy, please leave!” A noise of hopping across the room and then a thump to the floor are heard, which Martha assumes is Sherlock tangling himself in his sheets when he tried to get out of bed.

“Sherlock!” is John’s admonishment, then she hears John’s rumble of “Oh god oh god oh god,” following it.

Mrs Hudson titters to herself and decides to play dumb. “What are you boys up to in there?” she asks, moving to place her pie onto an uncontaminated space on their counter. 

“About 7 inches,” is Sherlock’s deadpan reply. “John was about 10.”

The dropping of a hairbrush clatters against the sink. “SHERLOCK!!! Oh my goooooood.” She can hear the utter embarrassment in John’s groaned response.

Martha blushes heavily and nearly chokes. She shakes her head. “I’ve brought you boys some dinner, thought you would be hungry.”

Deadpan, again: “I’ve already eaten, thanks. And have been pleasantly filled up.”

A hiss from the bathroom: “For fuck’s sake, Sherlock, STOP.” Something clatters against a wall in the bedroom; Martha assumes it’s John throwing something at Sherlock in his frustration. The hallway bathroom door flies open and John skitters out of it breathlessly, scrambles down the hall and into the kitchen. “Mrs Hudson! Thank you!” John breathes out heavily, his shirt barely  tucked into his trousers and his hair hastily brushed into its normal style: clearly he dressed in a hurry and is acting like he did not just come from Sherlock’s room.

She furrows her eyebrows. “John, dear, what’s going on?”

John’s face turns bright red, and he quickly turns to switch on the kettle and retrieve plates and cutlery for their dinner. “Would you –” he squeaks, pretending he didn’t hear the question. John clears his throat. “Would you like to stay for dinner, Mrs Hudson?”

Sherlock’s bedroom door is heard opening, and Sherlock emerges looking like a debauched Greek statue: his hair is wild and tousled, his body shrouded in a sheet like a toga, cheeks flushed, lips reddened, a HUGE purpling bruise sucked onto his neck, and a noticeable glow about his person. He’s also walking a tad stiffly, and Martha most certainly does NOT think of the reasons why. Sherlock’s whole demeanour screams “I’ve just been buggered and I enjoyed it thoroughly”. He strides tall and proud into the kitchen, ensuring to show off to Mrs Hudson his love bite as he makes his way past her and to crowd up against John’s side. He nuzzles John’s head with his cheek, then peeks at her over his shoulder and through his mussed-up fringe with a smirk on his face, the look daring her or John to say something negative.

Martha has never seen John become so red. She was sure that if it was possible, the whole flat would have burst into flames with John’s heated embarrassment. “Sherlock, oh my god, put some pants on,” John mutters quietly in one long, run-on sentence.

“Why? You’ll just be taking them off again after Hudders leaves,” Sherlock mumbles into John’s hair, ensuring Martha hears him. John heaves heavily and stares up to the ceiling, his hands falling to the counter space, furling and unfurling with tension.

Martha can’t contain her happiness anymore. “OH BOYS!!!!!!” she squeals, earning her a proud smile and a clinging of John’s arm from Sherlock and a face-palm from John. “Oh, my precious boys! It’s about time you two got yourselves sorted!”

John attempts to turn his body to face Martha, but Sherlock is latched on so tightly to his side that all he can manage is a glance over his shoulder. John is about to say something but she can’t help herself, “Oh, you boys, we should have a celebration!” she coos. “We should invite everyone! We’ve all been waiting SO long!”

At that, John’s face falls (though she’s not sure if it’s the implication that everyone suspected or the idea of a get-together), and Sherlock replies without missing a beat: “A fantastic idea. The invitations will read, ‘John Watson Conveniently Came for Sherlock Holmes.’”

Mortified, John hip checks Sherlock off of him and barrels his way out of the kitchen to hide in his chair. “Oh my gooooooooooodddd,” he drawls as he sinks down heavily into the cushions.

Sherlock stands tall and proud, and turns to Martha. "Mmm, yes. Or ‘John and Sherlock’s Coming-Out Party’. So many interpretations in that one; I can think of at least four. Oh, and we’ll put special emphasis on the ‘coming’, wouldn’t you say, John?”

Silence from the chair. 

Sherlock sniffs. “John is very pleased, too, Mrs Hudson. You know how he is.”

Martha pats Sherlock’s cheek. “Oh, Sherlock, I really am very happy for you, dear. You’ve been pining for him for years and you boys deserve to be happy!

That gets a reaction from John. “Wait, years??” he questions as he straightens up and glances over the chair’s back.

It’s Sherlock’s turn to blush, and he takes over making them all tea. “Why don’t you cut us each a piece of pie, Mrs Hudson?”

“No, wait, Sherlock, years?” John bodily turns around in his chair and settles his elbows onto the top of it, knees in the seat cushion.

“It doesn’t matter, John,” Sherlock replies, scooping a large amount of sugar into his own tea and topping it off with a dollop of honey. “We can’t change what was. Only what will be.” He smiles up softly to John, one that Martha has never seen before on Sherlock’s face. It’s a tight smile laced with pained memories but fond hopes. “And I hope that it is a change for the better. Isn’t that a good thing?”

Martha is nearly in tears now, and hugs Sherlock as the look on John’s face softens to its customary adoration. “Oh, Sherlock!” The dear, sweet boy! Finally allowing himself to be the romantic she always knew he was!

John huffs inwardly, smiles begrudgingly, and gets up out of his chair and returns to the kitchen. He hesitates momentarily, then embraces the two of them, adding his own love to their little family. “Yeah. You’re right, Sherlock, of course you are.” He squeezes them both tightly, and Sherlock nuzzles his cheek against John’s when he comes nearer. “Besides,” he continues, “I’m really one to talk.” His face furrows softly as he and Martha share a knowing look with each other. 

She knew John was besotted with Sherlock the very first day they both showed up to Baker Street. She knew how much Sherlock’s death had destroyed John. She knew how much he hurt when Sherlock returned and how couldn’t bring himself to let Sherlock back in. The look they share is one of understanding, one that tells her that John isn’t leaving ever again, that he is in this for the long run, but that he also fears he cannot offer Sherlock everything he needs to be happy.

Sherlock catches their little exchange, seemingly able to read the look in John’s eyes, and he snuggles closer to them both. “I love you,” Sherlock says quietly, and Martha isn’t sure if it’s meant for both of them or just John, but she kisses Sherlock’s cheek anyway. Martha squeezes them once more, and pulls away.

“Well!” she claps, turning to the pie. “How about we have a dinner, and then I’ll leave you boys to yourselves?”

“A spectacular idea, Mrs Hudson,” John speaks for himself and Sherlock, since Sherlock’s mouth is currently nibbling at John’s ear. “Stop that!” John swats halfheartedly at Sherlock, and pulls away to retrieve the utensils he had previously placed on the counter. Sherlock stands unmoving in the centre of the kitchen, looking lost now that John has pulled away from him. John hands the plates to Martha, then goes to Sherlock to pull him to their dining table. “Just this, okay Sherlock?” he says quietly, and Sherlock nods. John gets a mischievous glint in his eye, and leans down to whisper something for Sherlock’s ears only; it causes Sherlock’s eyes to widen. He looks right at John, who nods, and Sherlock reaches up to pull John down to receive a crushing kiss. John giggles and pets at Sherlock’s hair, and Sherlock pecks light kisses on John’s cheek as John tries to pull away. 

Martha has placed pies on plates by this time, and John is still trying to come and help her but Sherlock won’t let go of his fingers. It’s quite a sight to behold, seeing a bed sheet-clad Sherlock sitting in his chair at the dining table, his bare arm outstretched as if it fears John will not return, his fingers clasped tightly to John’s fingers. John’s own arm is reaching behind himself, attempting to make it to the kitchen but at a loss if he wants to break off the connection with a clingy Sherlock; it’s a new relationship built on years of fear and worry that one or the other will never touch each other again should they ever part. 

“Sit down, John-dear, I’ll bring us the food,” Martha says, carrying over Sherlock’s tea and pie, “but just this once, dear. I’m not your housekeeper.”

“The lady doth protest too much,” Sherlock says quietly with a smile. He lets go of John and now reaches over to pull one of the empty chairs so it’s directly beside his so that John can be close to him. “Thank you, Hudders,” he says when she drops the meal in front of him. He watches as John sits himself down into the chair next to Sherlock, and then proceeds to use John as support to lean on while he eats. 

Martha places John’s meal in front of him, and he also thanks her. As she’s going to pick up her own, she hears John admonish Sherlock about being a lazy git and at least he left him his dominant hand to eat with. She returns to the table with her meal, and she smiles up at them. “Look at you two lovebirds,” she titters, seeing that John has wrapped his not-free arm around Sherlock’s shoulders and Sherlock is leaning heavily into John’s side, absently picking at his food by separating the corn from the rest of the pie – she never understood why he always did that, but she found it endearing. John, on the other hand, is heartily eating into his pie, and only puts down his fork so he can have a sip of tea. They both smile at her comment, and they alternate in telling her how they ended up finally confessing to each other. John promptly stops Sherlock from saying anymore when he starts to talk about the “stripping of clothing”. 

Martha giggles, and gathers up their plates. Sherlock’s food is mushed around his but mostly eaten save for the corn he picked out. He’s more interested in John now that John is done eating and Sherlock’s impatience at waiting for alone-time with John begins to take over. John thanks Martha again for the meal. “Just leave it in the sink, Mrs Hudson. I’ll clean it up later.” His voice sounds a bit strained, and she turns to see that Sherlock is starting to get handsy with John, while he keeps telling him to ‘stop!’ and ‘can you please wait!’. He redirects his attention to her for a moment. “At least take a piece back with you for lunch tomorrow! We’ll pack it away and bring you down your dish later – Sherlock, stop!” 

Sherlock is now nibbling at John’s ear, again.

Martha decides that, just this once, she’s going to not also pick up after them, and leave them be.

“Alright, John-dear.” Martha smiles, cutting herself a piece for later and putting it on her plate. She covers the rest with some tinfoil she finds in a drawer, and puts it in the fridge. “Have fun, boys! And congratulations again, Sherlock-dear!”

Sherlock deems this worthy of a few seconds of distraction. “Thank you, Hudders!” John gets up to see Martha out, and Sherlock follows by clinging to John’s arm and sniffing his head.

She can’t help it; she hugs the two of them together one final time, and says, “I love you boys so much. I’m so happy you have each other now!”

“We always had each other, Hudders,” Sherlock states, looking John directly in his eyes, “we just…” he sighs heavily. “We’re just a couple of idiots.”

John chuckles, and kisses Sherlock’s cheek. It makes Martha’s heart soar with fondness. “Yes, we are.” John kisses Martha’s cheek one final time, and pulls open the door for her. “Goodnight, Mrs Hud –”

“– We’re sorry if we wake you up later. You may want to take some of those ‘Herbal Soothers’ before bed.” Sherlock says over John, grinning maniacally. John groans and face-palms. Sherlock winks.

“Oh, boys! At my time of life,” she admonishes, but with fondness and without any real meaning. She’s actually very happy, and glad her boys have worked out their issues. She collects her pie piece and heads back down to her flat, hearing the upstairs door lock behind her, and Sherlock’s deep voice mutter something to John. John giggles, and heavy thumping down the hall back to Sherlock’s room carries down the stairwell.

Perhaps she will take her Herbal Soothers after all.


I’ve had this drafted for MONTHS Nonny. Sorry if it’s not good, but I hope you like it <3

Here’s the Cartoon Network schedule for Monday, August 7 to Sunday, August 13.

Well would you look at that.

Teen Titans reruns are back. For the first time (consistently) on Cartoon Network since 2010. (2 episodes aired in 2012 during CN’s 20th anniversary)

Did Trouble in Tokyo do well last Sunday? Is this their apology for last week? Who knows.

If you’re mad its airing only in the 6am hour keep this stuff in mind:

  1. It’s a 14 year old show that ended 11 years ago. The fact it’s even airing on the main network instead of Boomerang is impressive as is. Especially considering the CN schedule recently.
  2. School’s almost back for the kiddos, and kids usually wake up around 6am or so. At least, I did. They could turn the telly on when eating biscuits and jelly for breakfast and watch this show.
  3. https://twitter.com/nickandmore/status/893220255216041984 What this guy said. Be glad it’s even happening. Support it regardless. Or it’ll be gone and you guys will be complaining again.

Anyways, the schedule goes back to normal-ish. We Bare Bears is back for new episodes and OK K.O. has a month long premiere bomb.

Here’s what’s new new new new this week:

  • OK K.O.! Let’s Be Heroes - Mon-Thurs at 6:30p
  • We Bare Bears - Mon-Fri at 7:00p
  • Transformers: Robots in Disguise - 2 new episodes Saturday at 6:00a
  • Justice League Action - New (and even worse!) timeslot: Saturday at 7:00a

Top 3:

  1. Teen Titans Go! - 173 - 48%
  2. The Amazing World of Gumball - 86 - 24%
  3. OK K.O.! Let’s Be Heroes - 44 - 12%
Boss!AU - Part 5

Part 1, Part 2, Part 2.5, Part 3, Part 4

Time for the final part! This is actually my favourite part! It’s more fluffy than the other parts and I can’t leave the characters alone for too long so I’m sure we’ll dip in to the universe in the future again! I hope you like it - thank you for all the lovely comments I’ve had since starting it x

“Harry?” You speak down the phone after arriving in the office. It’s like a blizzard outside, raining and windy, and the last thing you need is your phone ringing when you’ve barely taken your coat off. You have his spilt hot coffee over your hand, and your clothes underneath are wet from the rain too; not quite the same weather as New York just last week. Harry had let you take Thursday and Friday off as a thank you for working the previous weekend so you’d spent the past four days with your phone switched off and holed up in your flat with takeaways and movies in between sleeping off the jet lag.

Your flat mate had flittered in and out in between seeing her boyfriend and she spent most of her time at the weekends with him now, which you were more than happy to see her do (and it gave you the flat to yourself), and you hoped you might have the same soon, if Harry would only make up his mind about whether he wanted something serious or not. You understand he has more to think about than most men his age, with his four year old son in the picture, and being the number one priority in his life, obviously, but you’ve decisions to make yourself. On the screen of your laptop is a draft contract from one of Harry’s rivals sitting in your emails, all you have to do is read through, get back to them with any adjustments, sign it, and you’d be free to sleep with Harry without fear of anybody finding out and frowning upon it.

Shit, it did sound sordid when you put it like that. Sleep with him? Be his assistant-with-benefits?

“Hey…” he sounds breathless, as if he’s running late. “Listen, I wouldn’t ask yeh if I didn’t need to bu’ I need a favour from yeh?”

You sigh, placing the coffee on the desk and pulling your hair away from your neck, the phone safely nooked between your shoulder and ear as you did so, and tried to do open up the place as he speaks. “What is it?”

“Sam’s sick.”

Keep reading

The letter

Part two? Let me know! (Pic is not mine!)


It should have been a day like every other day in the week.

Harry was supposed to come home in the late evening, totally exhausted but still a smile adorning his features because he would have a successful time at the studio and new ideas for his next album. He was supposed to be excited like every time when he was on his way back home because he knew there was always someone who was worth coming back to that he missed so desperately. He was supposed to make a stop at their favourite Asian restaurant and then carry a bag of take outs in his hand because he knew his love would appreciate it when she had not to cook in the evening and could relax instead or focus on something else. He was supposed bring a little gift for his love because he was absolutely passionate about seeing the gleaming in her eyes and that smile of hers when she opened the package of whatever Harry had bought her. He was supposed to cuddle up with her on their couch right after they ate, watching a rom-com or whatever their heart desired until his love fell asleep and Harry got the chance to observe her beauty for a little while before he carried her to bed.

Harry was supposed to be happy just as he was every day.

But this time his happiness was taken away from him in a matter of seconds with only a simple letter.

He knew something was wrong as soon as he had entered his house. A very strange feeling would accompany him throughout his entire day and Harry could not understand why he felt that way. It seemed as if there was something in him, trying to warn him that anything bad was going to happen shortly.

Again, Harry held a bag with Chinese in his one hand and the other one was occupied with a large bunch of flowers. His stomach didn’t stop growling since he had only breakfast hours before and he had to endure some stupid comments from his friends so he would be very relieved if he could stuff it with some delicious food and how to do this with no other than with his love? He had finished work earlier this time and that’s why he had arrived sooner than usual.

The entire house was dead silent and dark. There was no single light or sound coming from any room in that building. Normally, the telly would be on and Y/N would be sitting on the couch and switch through channels. Or sometimes she would instantly appear out of nowhere and greet him with a big hug. But right now, there was nothing. It was dark and silent.

A crease formed on his forehead as he switched on the lights and went straight to his kitchen to put the flowers and the food on the kitchen counter. It was 8 PM in the evening and Y/N would never leave the house at this time or she would tell him when she was going out.

“Y/N?” He called after her and the first room he checked up was their bedroom. Maybe she went to sleep earlier. But as soon as he opened the door in hope he would find her in there, his beliefs were crushed immediately. Harry faced a perfectly made and untouched bed. He stormed out of the room in order to check out his bathrooms, guestrooms, basement, and backyard and exercise room but to his dismay she wasn’t there either. He took out his phone and dialled her number immediately and after a few rings it went straight to her voicemail.

“Baby, where are you? Please call me back. I love you.”

Taking his black blazer off, he settled down in his living room, thinking about where is girlfriend could be. He ran his hands through his soft strands of curls, a frustrated sigh escaped his lips. Where was she? Why didn’t she tell him where she would be, making him worry about her?

He tried to call her again-no chance. He left another note on her voicemail and hoped she would contact him soon. To distract himself, his hand went down to grab one of the magazines that where spread across the table in front of him when a certain paper caught his attention instantly. His name was written on it. And he could tell exactly from who it was. He would always recognize her beautiful and clean handwriting.

He grabbed the paper which was folded in the middle and slowly opened it.

“Dear Harry…” It started.

Panic rushed through every part of his body and his heart accelerated. He really hoped it wasn’t not what he was thinking about. A farewell letter.

“First of all I would like to say thank you for everything you have given to me. You made me the happiest and luckiest girl alive and nobody is ever going to make me feel this way. I love you more than words can ever describe. I love you so much Harry and that’s why I’m willing to do this. Willing to let you go.”

The first tears left his eyes and Harry felt a deep stinging pain in his chest. His fingers were slightly shaky as he continued to read. He wanted to stop but he couldn’t because his eyes were practically glued onto her words.

“This one year we have been together was the best I have ever had. I am so glad I was so clumsy and spilled that wine over your shirt at that bar when we bumped into each other or else I would never have met you, Harry. I knew from the moment I looked into your captivating eyes that I wanted to spend my whole life with you…”

“Why are you leaving me then?” Harry whimpered, the air around him became more suffocating the more he read.

“I always loved you for the man you are Harry, you know it. Men like you rarely do exist my love. I am so proud of you and always will be. You try to make the world a better place, a safe place for your fans and any other person you love. I wish I could be a part of your life but I’m not anymore. And I’m so sorry, Harry. I’m sorry I’m leaving you like this.

Harry you deserve someone better than me. Someone who isn’t as fucked up as I am. I feel like I’ve bothered you with my shit long enough for you not to have time for yourself. I don’t want you have a girlfriend who cannot deal with your life. I don’t want you to have a girlfriend who’s jealous because so many people love you and feel attracted to you. I don’t want you to have a girlfriend who jumps right to speculations when you hang out with other female persons. I want you to be with someone who you can show in public events without her being hated and judged by the world. I want you to be with someone who is perfect…”

“But you are perfect, darling…” Harry sniffled. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. He knew his life was turbulent. His life consisted of being surrounded by famous rich people who swam in glamour and money, parties and rumours and Y/N probably did feel she wouldn’t fit into his world. Yet she was all he needed. She brought normality in his life and Harry could be just himself when he was with her. She made him Harry, a young man who was as normal as others and just living his dream as a singer. She was his key to normality.

“I knew I should tell this right into your face instead of writing this letter but I knew you would try to convince me not to leave you. All I’m doing is for your best Harry, please believe me. There a so many things I would like to say but I don’t know how to put them into words. Don’t contact me anymore, my love. Don’t call me, don’t text me, don’t try to look for me. I’m a waste of precious time and you don’t deserve to be with a person like me. Try to move on. Forget me..And one day you will find the one…I wish you all the best, my dear. Love you forever… Y/N”

Harry was crushed beyond imagination. The one and only girl he ever loved asked him to forget her like she never existed. Like she had no value in his life. She wanted him to forget every meaningful moment. Their first meeting, their first kiss, their first “I love you’s” and their first time. How could she? How could she expect him to erase her out of his life as if he was never in love with her? Harry loved her with his whole life. She was his everything, his weakness, his life energy. He would have died for her. There was no way he could get over her. He knew he needed to get her back or there would be no way he would survive.

He dialled her number again, hoping she would pick up but he was sent straight to her voicemail again.

“Baby, please come back home.” Harry cried, heavy sobs escaping his throat as he spoke. “Come back so we can talk this out, baby. Please…I can’t live without you.”

He called her hundred times that night, bombarding her voicemail with messages, pleading her not to leave him alone and telling her how much he loved her. But she never responded and Harry lost not only his other half, no, along with losing her he also lost himself.

He called another number and before the female on the other line could respond after the ringing, Harry spoke into his phone with a shaky voice.

”She’s gone mum… She left me.”

BUSTED [PERCY WEASLEY]

request: “hi, could you do percy (or any other weasley other than twins) x reader where molly walks in while things are getting heated if you know what i mean (no smut if that makes you uncomfortable!)” — by anon

a/n: hello, anon! well, to be frank, i do not write smut. not because i’m uncomfortable with it, but because i am so bad at writing it down and i also tend to laugh a lot when i am doing so lol. anyways, i did this with percy because it was the first name you said. i hope you like it, even if it is kinda short hehe :-)

Masterlist Request box here!

It took your parents a whole damn lot of convincing before they agreed that you could spend your holidays with the Weasleys. They liked Percy, of course, but still, they knew the both of you were teenagers — and well, as parents, they were aware of the raging hormones that tend to occur at your age (admittedly making you uncomfortable when they gave you the ‘talk’ before letting you go).

Even Molly, Percy’s mum, had been keeping an eye on the both of you ever since the day you stepped foot inside the house. You weren’t oblivious to this and honestly, you didn’t mind. Percy, on the other hand, would sometimes groan in annoyance whenever the both of you would be interrupted by his mother, especially when she would suddenly squeeze between the both of you while watching the telly.

“Finally.” Percy grinned before silently shutting the door. “We finally have privacy.” he sighed in delight as he joins you in your bed, making you close the book you were reading to raise an eyebrow towards your boyfriend.

“You do know that you are not allowed to be here, especially with the door closed.” you smirked.

He shrugged, “Mum’s out, said she’ll be buying something for dinner. And it’s not like my siblings are interested in what’s going on in here.”

“So much for being a prefect.” You disapproving clicked your tongue in a teasing manner.

Percy rolled his eyes and finally pressed his lips against yours, something he hasn’t been doing a lot because of the way his family has been keeping a close eye on the two of you.

You smiled, placing a hand behind his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. The butterflies in your stomach was going crazy and so was the beat of your heart, hammering fast as you feel your head gently hit the pillow.

“I definitely missed this.” Percy hummed against your neck, his lips caressing your skin while one of his hands was going lower and lower as each second passed.

Just as his palm made its way to your thigh, the door abruptly opened and you, who had heard it first, pushed Percy quickly away from your body, causing him to fall on the floor with a rather loud thud!

Percy huffed a breath, “What the bloody hell was that?” he complained before turning sideways to see Molly Weasley with a disapproving look on her face. “Oh, hello, mum. Back so early?” he sheepishly smiled, the color on his face draining away.

“Yes, I’ve forgotten something and was about to offer Y/N if she wanted to come with me, but seeing as the both of you are very busy —”

“Mrs. Weasley, it’s not what it looks like.” you cut in with your face glowing red because of embarrassment.

Molly seemed to be hiding a smile as she looks at you, “Don’t worry, dear, I won’t tell your parents about this.” she then turned to her son, “but Percy, you and I need to talk. With your father, might I add. Downstairs.” she gave him a knowing gaze before walking out.

Once she was gone, you took a deep breath. “She’s not going to disown you, is she?” you asked him, your tone half serious and half joking.

Percy stood up from his position. “I sure hope not,” he played along. “though if she did, you’re clearly the one to blame since you’re so keen at seducing your boyfriend.”

“I wasn’t doing anything.” you reminded him with a grin.

“Then was it I who seduced you?” he teased.

You were about to throw another remark but then Molly’s voice was heard yet again from downstairs, “Percy Ignatius Weasley! What is taking you so long?” she shouted.

“I’m coming, mum!” he yelled back, turning to you one last time. “This isn’t over, Y/N.” he narrowed his eyes playfully to your direction, waltzing out of your room then to meet his parents.

You laughed quietly to yourself as soon as you were alone, picking up the book you previously held and thinking that this was going to be one hell of a holiday with the Weasleys.

anonymous asked:

Hey could you please do a Moriarty (form Sherlock) x Reader fic where he doesn't know how to express his feelings, but he always likes to sit next of the Reader because it helps him concentrate when he is working or relax when he is stressed. Thanks oxox

Pairing: Jim Moriarty x Reader
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Warnings: almost smut, lol (also some swear words)

A/N: gaaaaah! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST BABE! oh my god, I love jim so so so much and I’ve been looking forward to writing this request for ages and finally managed to write something! so yeah, hope you enjoy it <333

                                                             *****

Jim Moriarty wasn’t someone that wore his heart on his sleeve.

You and him had been having.. something, for a while now, yet, you didn’t know what this thing exactly was - given that he never talks about such matters.

The sex was good, though, so you didn’t want to complicate things by having the ‘What are we?’ talk. If what you were having now is all that he wanted, fine by you. If he wanted more, he’d hopefully tell you. Or show you.

That’s how it’s been for a few months. But one day, you realized that the ‘just sex’ part, developed into something.. different.

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2

“I’ve obviously never been in this situation before but maybe it’s something to think about? I know you like to keep this stuff to yourself but maybe the fact that you’ve never done this before-”

“Exactly, I’ve never done this before. I’ve never felt the need to publicly comment on any of my hook-ups and I won’t start now.”

catch up here | talk to me about it here

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christmas eve

after months of counting down, everyone bubbling with excitement and joy, christmas had finally arrived.

it was christmas eve, your new home was filled with mendes’ and y/l/n. after you and shawn moved to new york, both families had to compromise to be with their loved ones. both of the families decided that christmas day should be spent with just the two of you, so christmas eve would be their opportunity to see you both on their time.

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Summary: Jon keeps receiving mildly mean yet flattering texts from his best friend’s little sister and he has no idea what he’s supposed to do with them. 


To Jon, Sansa Stark is more like a concept than an actual person. She’s his best friend’s hot sister, who sometimes comes to stay for the weekend in their tiny student house, and for a week after she leaves, the whole place will smell of strawberries. But she’s off limits, so none of the boys even glances at her unless she’s talking to them and sometimes even then some will refuse to make eye contact. She’s the fantasy that will never ever go anywhere because Robb will one hundred percent murder them if they so much as think about touching Sansa in any way, shape or form. So yeah, in a bizarre way, Jon sees her as this fantastical concept of female hotness. 

That is until Sansa moves to Edinburgh for uni and accidentally texts him one night at three in the morning. At least he thinks it’s accidental. The text itself is really confusing. All it says is:

Sansa: Your face makes me want to scream!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Followed by:

Sansa: I just want to cuddle the shit out of you!!!

Jon isn’t sure what that means, but it can’t be a good thing. Also, he’s ninety percent sure she’s drunk and meaning to text someone else, so he ignores it. Life goes on as normal and when she comes round for tea with Robb a few days later, she’s as friendly and casual as she always is, so Jon’s even surer now that she doesn’t remember and it wasn’t for him.  

Except for the next following weekend, he gets another text from her. 

Sansa: Ugh, why do you look like that!!!

He’s taken aback by this one. Actually, he’s bloody confused by all of it. Are these for him? And why is his physical appearance so personally offensive to Sansa? It’s fucking weird, but again, he decides the best course of action is to ignore it. He doesn’t want to embarrass her and he’s still not convinced that he’s the intended target. 

But what those texts do change is how often he now finds himself watching her when she comes around. Jon doesn’t mean to at first. He’s just trying to figure her out and she has this way about smiling at Robb when he’s being particularly obnoxious that kind of makes it hard to breathe. It’s not the first time he’s noticed how attractive she is, but most of the words he associates with her are: hot, fit and bloody ridiculous. This is the first time he thinks she’s also adorable and it’s hard to deny after that revelation that she is inexplicably as cute as she’s stunning. It’s a bad combination.  

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A Visit To The Past (Part II)

It’s been requested many times so here it is. Hope you enjoy it. x 

(Part I)

 "It’s on September 21st.“

  Harry can’t quite put a finger on the way his sister looks at him. Her thick brows pulled together and she’s biting the inside of her cheek. Anne’s asleep in her room, it’s 2 am in the morning and two siblings are having a heart to heart session. Gemma sighs after taking a little time to think about all the things Harry said. "How do you even know the date Harry? I’m sure she hasn’t send you an invitation.” Harry is a little taken aback, he is not expecting her first reaction to be this.

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Got Her (Sherlock x Reader)

Title: Got Her

Pairing: Sherlock x reader
Author: @whatthehellisacastiel (Kat)
Words: 1,843
Warnings: Not much. Some cussing and kidnapping.

Author’s note: I had a lot to think about for this one. I made a plan and this story is going to be in 2 parts, maybe three.

Request: Could i get a request for sherlock x reader, where she is kidnapped by Moriarty and Sherlock and her brother (john) have to solve clues to find her? Thank you x
- anonymous

Summary: You were John’s little sister and managed to find yourself into his and Sherlock Holmes’ mess of a life. What happens when a criminal mastermind kidnaps you? Will the detective you’ve fallen for and your brother save you in time?

————————————–

Truth be told that Sherlock never expected to have a single friend, nevertheless two. Two Watsons, both equally insufferable but both his best friends. He’s met John in a lab after an acquaintance of his mentioned to John that Sherlock was looking for a flatmate. Fast forward a few months later you arrived at Baker Street after settling in London yourself to see your older brother. You met Sherlock first and much to everyone’s surprise, the two of you got along nicely. Somehow, you had become a daily part of their daily lives. When you weren’t working, you were either at Baker Street or out helping your brother and Sherlock with a case. Sherlock refrained from thinking back to a time when he didn’t have either you or John by his side, for once in his life he was content with everything going on around him.

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anonymous asked:

hey! i was just thinking, that i've been listening to the songs harry requested on radio 1 and they've been stuck in my head for so long omg. and like, i'm not connecting the songs he requested to larry, but with each song a little scenario ab them plays in my head! was wondering if you could write little snippets based on a couple of the songs? sweetest devotion by adele and issues by julia michaels!

I got really carried away with this; I combined both of these songs and very subtly put a few of the lyrics into a mess of 3k. I hope this works for you xx



Louis watches the build up and break over a period of months. Years, even. Harry’s tired. They both are, but Harry’s exceptionally so. He’s been working nonstop on his album, his photography, himself, and now that he’s back in the limelight all day, everyday, it’s taking a serious toll. Louis doesn’t say anything or imply that Harry needs to slow down, but he wants to, just isn’t quite sure how. Harry’s been a little moodier, a little more on edge, and the whole time Louis is trying to figure out a way to approach the subject lightly, it seems that Harry has already given it just as much thought as Louis has, if not more.

“I think I wanna take some time off,” he says one night just before bed. He’s in the middle of changing his pants, tripping into them like he always does. “Like, hide, maybe?” The way he says it makes it sound like he’s asking for permission from Louis, just to make sure they’re currently at the same level.

Louis raises a brow from his position in bed and looks up, relieved, worried. “Yeah? Like go on an extended holiday?”

“Mmm, something like that.”

“Care to elaborate?”

Harry crawls into bed beside him, shirtless and shoulders pink from his sunburn. The weather was mild and about 10 degrees today - typical for January - but they spent the majority of the day outside, anyway, Harry lounging in the backyard, ignoring Louis’ request to venture out. Paps, he said simply, going back to shielding his eyes from the LA sun.

“I rented out a place in Maine,” he says, reaching for his reading glasses on the bedside table. He doesn’t really need them, but no matter how much Louis teases him about it, he continues to wear them, squinting without them. Dramatic. “I’m not even really sure where it is, but I know it’s right on a lake, it’s in the woods, it’s secluded, it’s…” He sighs. “Not here.”

Louis’ stomach tightens. “You trying to get away from me, Styles?”

“No, God no.” Harry shakes his head, curls finally grown back in and bouncing. “I’m trying to take a break from everything, but that doesn’t include you. You can come with me, if you want. But don’t feel obligated to. I know how much you love it here. And that you like writing here best.”

I love it here because you’re here. “I’m comin’ with,” he replies eventually.

“You want to?”

“Yes. You’re a bit strange for wanting to fuck off to the middle of nowhere but. I’m used to your weirdness by this point. No judgement here. I’ll come with.”

Harry smirks, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose like Louis always does. Copy cat. “Good.”

“So, when’re we leaving?”

“Thursday morning.”

“Christ, you’re an impulsive lad, aren’t you?”

“I suppose.”

“Makes life interesting.”

Harry nods, reaching for the remote for the telly, then setting it back down. “I’m very happy. I really am. I just need a change, yeah?”

“It’s okay to, like, want to step back,” Louis says softly. “You don’t have to be grateful and positive every second of the day. Wanting to escape is probably the most normal thing I can think of.”

He’s quiet for a moment, probably thinking. He purses his lips when he looks at Louis. “Thank you.”

“Absolutely.”

“And you’re gonna escape with me? Until you’re tired of me?”

Louis smiles, turning off his bedside light. “Absolutely.”

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Drarry flower shop au

When Harry first moved into the peaceful town from somewhere in the North of England, he did it for the safe and soothing feeling he had whenever he went out for a walk and for the lack of noise and stress he always witnessed in London. But now, the restlessness found him even here, at the end of his small world. 

And everything started on that Monday morning. 

After a whole week of planning his flit, Harry was relieved to finally move into his new home on the afternoon of the last Sunday, but since he was too tired to even move a muscle, he settled on the couch for the rest of the evening and watched the telly until he fell asleep with the thought that on Monday he will walk around the neighborhood and possibly talk with his friends. 

What he didn’t expect to find, was a flower shop with white walls and a tiled floor. 

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