yamaguchi, nice serve!

i dont fucking know bro

[ganbaremidori]

cosmic feelings [iii] h.s

synopsis: after harry fell even deeper for the waitress he’s met only twice, he’s determined to get to know her better at another event, but something happens that changes both of their nights. [also might be shitty i havent rlly written for a while so sorry]

warnings: just a description of assault. 

all this time, because this pretty, pretty waitress has been on his mind, harry had completely forgotten how boring these events were. god, he hopes whichever new up and coming business man there was, they’d never have to suffer through these fancy galas - unless of course, they fell in love with a waitress that works for one. then, harry thinks, then tolerating this ache would be justifiable. but when a particularly large group of men, all dressed in ridiculously expensive suits, walked past; all chuckling and no doubt talking crudely about the scarcely dressed women there - he was reminded of where he was, and how little he had spoken to his girl through the night. 

but he’s not complaining. my god, he’d never complain about this opportunity when less than two days ago, he thought he’d never see her again. but now, there she was, dressed in her waitress costume, buzzing around with trays serving everyone. 

his eyes constantly followed her figure around like a hawk, and at one point he worried that she’d notice him staring at her like a creep. so then he’d break his one-sided eye contact and take a sip of his drink. but less than 5 second later, he’d find himself searching for her again. oh how badly he wanted to scoop her up and tell her how he felt and never let her go. how badly he wanted to give her everything he has to offer, in the hopes that she’d let him stay by her side. 

he saw her disappear behind the bar for the nth time that night, and sighed. looks like he’s gonna have to wait for her to come back again. and then he decides: the next time she comes close to his table, he’s gonna make up some bullshit excuse to talk to her again. hell, he’d even stay in this stupid event until it ends so that he gets to properly introduce himself. except the opportunity never comes. usually from his observation his pretty little waitress would disappear behind the bar at most for 5 minutes, before she’d burst through the doors balancing new trays. but it’s been almost 15 minutes and she hasn’t come out. 

harry frowns. why hasn’t she come out yet? 

sighing and getting up, harry dusted off the invisible dust from his pristine trousers before deciding to go to the bathroom. instead of sulking like an old grump or being around these gaudy idiots, it’s better to spend time inside a bathroom until he comes out and finds y/n again. 

ah, y/n. such a pretty name. stunning, just like her. 

with a small smile at the thought of her, harry heads towards the bathroom. he’s near the mens when he first hears it. it sounds like a plea, a whine and then a lower, rougher voice saying ‘shut up’. he rolls his eyes. just another couple fighting in the hallways. but when he hears ‘please, please stop; i don’t want this’, he knows someone’s in trouble. and no matter how much of an asshole he is as a boss, he isn’t a terrible person - so like any other decent human being, he rushes to the source of the voices. 

he’s nearly brought to his knees with what he sees. his lovely y/n, pinned against the wall, with a balding man with a beer belly pressed against her body tightly - hands roaming, his face buried in her neck. y/ns sobbing and his hands drop lower, and harry hasn’t known a fury this hot. his anger burns through his body - tears it apart, and he doesn’t remember having any control over himself when he pulls the bastard away from the warmth of his heart and punches him in the face, his rings making a sickening but sweet crunch when it meets his nose. 

when the man falls to the floor clutching his nose, harry raises his foot up, and slams it down against the mans face - the glare of his expensive shoe against the shining of the mans wedding ring. harry thinks he’s gonna be sick; he’s absolutely disgusted. from the mans ruffled suit pocket, harrys eyes meet his card. works under the owner of the gala, some sort of a high end manager or summat. 

“you’re pathetic, honestly, y’know? forcing yourself onto women ‘cause you don’t get laid.” harry spits, pressing his shoe down harder. and then he crouches a little closer to the mans bloody face. “i’m gonna make sure you’re fucking jobless and out on the streets by this monday.”

harry’s about to raise his foot to hurt the man again when fingers wrap themselves around his biceps, and a soft voice calls, wet with tears:

“p- please, stop.” 

in an instant, harry backs away. and then he’s turning around and cursing himself for forgetting that his loves there in the heat of his anger. 

“are you okay? did he hurt you anywhere?” harry asks, forcing himself to keep his hands to himself. it’d probably freak the poor girl out even more if hes all over her. 

y/n shakes her head. “no, i’m fine. you got here before he could do anything, really. but thank you, so much. you saved me today.” 

with a gentle smile, harry shakes his head, his hickorey curls dancing atop. “men like him are disgusting and i’m so sorry you had to experience that. i know the owner of this place and i’m gonna make sure he never finds a job again.” 

y/n passes him a small smile. “thank you. but please don’t tell my boss about this. he’s gonna get really mad at me. and i cant afford that.” 

harry frowns. “if thats what you want. i wont take a name, but i dont really have to since i can have him fired anyways.”

with that, harry leads his love out of the hallway with a hand at the small of her back, with a growing satisfaction inside his chest - at being her savior. 

[ganbaremidori]

cosmic feelings [ii] h.s

synopsis: harry hunts down the girl who’s been haunting his dreams - which isn’t really difficult when you’re as powerful as him. 

so originally harry thought he was only attracted to this girl because she was so unlike the other girls and so unlike what he’s used to - a mere curious attraction to a stranger which eventually fades away and so does your memory of them. because thats whats logically supposed to happen, right? and maybe with others this was what happens, but not with harry. hence despite his original hypothesis, the end result is nothing close to being similar. 

in fact, funnily enough, it’s the opposite!

days pass and harry just cant get this fierce girl out of his mind. he goes to sleep with her breaths echoing in his ears and wakes to her eyes. doesnt help the matter at all when every waking moment hes thinking of her. its just her, her, her and her. and harrys about to combust from all of this pent up frustration because all hes thinking about is her and its like his brain refuses to conjure any other image than her face and he has so many papers left to read and sign-

but then. but then in a moment of stunning clarity harry realizes something. something that terrified him at the time but proved to be the second brightest thought that has ever crossed his mind. 

harry has a stupid little crush on the waitress that told him to fuck off. politely. 

then a lot like cancer, his brain went through four stages. 

1. denial; harry just cant believe he’d like someone! people in his workplace know him as this monster whos gonna eat them up or worse fire them without notice and hes over here getting putty over some girl he met for less than two minutes? it doesnt mathematically, statistically, hypothetically, metaphysically, realistically make sense. so how in the universe did he-

2. anger; how dare harry like someone? and how dare someone else rule over his heart and mind like this? how dare someone make him doubt his decisions for even a second? how dare this someone make him wonder what type of cheesecake theyd like when his secretary asked him if he wanted a cheesecake from this really good bakery down the street? and how dare he ponder over if this someone would appreciate the tie hes wearing to work today? 

3. bargaining; and now harrys usually not like this. usually. but this situation is nothing close to being usual. it is as unusual as it can be. to now go back to normal and teach his mind a lesson harry decides to try meeting and chatting with other women to forget her. that has got to be the solution right? if he meets with another woman whos better, prettier - hes got to forget about that waitress hes hopelessly in love with right? then why, why does he keep searching for her face in every stranger he sits across on a super fancy restaurant? 

4. acceptance; finally, finally after many failed attempts to get his heart and brain to agree with each other, he accepts defeat. fine. fine he’ll talk to her properly the next time. the next time he accidentally stumbles upon her beautiful figure in the midst of a bland crowd. 

their next meeting wasnt accidental. not at all. but harry thinks its not his fault that he consciously made the decision to rush to the next ball - the ones he despises - when the invite slid in. and harry thinks its very normal when he spends extra time cleaning himself up and shaving and picking a very handsome suit. he just wants to look pretty for himself - who said that it was for a very specific person? 

his eyes never seemed to leave the crowd - darting from one person to the next. he’s in search. search for the captivating woman who has plagued his nights and mornings. he’s completely surrendered, he thinks pathetically to himself. utterly arrested underneath her. and she doesn’t even know it yet. 

but he is pulled out of his fantasies when his eyes catch the sight of the one hes being waiting for all this time. dressed in her uniform with stray hairs and a non existent makeup is her, balancing trays on her hands. his eyes follow her until she disappears behind the bar. harry slowly stalks towards the table with his name decorated on thin, golden letters on a richly textured paper. 

harry styles. 

he sits down and calls for a waiter. a waiter arrives almost immediately. 

“i, uh, i’ll have a casamigos.” harry utters. “oh and-” and harry realizes that he doesnt even know her name. but just then, as if fate, she walks out of the bar and she’s about to pass his table. “could you please have her deliver the drink?” harry asks, pointing at the girl. 

the waiter follows harrys finger and his eyes land on her. he smiles. “[y/n]? sure thing, sir. absolutely.”

and then the waiters gone. 

suddenly, harry has this urge to bite his nails. hes nervous. hes never been nervous before. not when he was taking on this huge company by himself with no one by his side, not when his name was on every magazine, never. but oh, whats he gonna say in front of her? is he gonna be a bumbling idiot or is he gonna confidently and smoothly charm her? 

“mr. styles?” that voice bubbles - the sweetest sound like softest honey, the softest sunshine. “your drink.”

and as harry looks up at her, he can tell the recognition that flashes across her face. ohmygod- it’s that powerful man my best friend drenched in some liquid and the person i talked back to!

“thank you, darlin’” harry murmurs, gently taking the drink out of [y/n]s hand.

she must notice the stark difference between the angry man she met couple of weeks ago and the sweet man whos in front of her right now. 

“uh, okay, um.” [y/n] breathes in. then breathes out slowly. “i’ve gotta run but call anybody if you need anything, all right?”

and thats the second interaction harrys ever had with [y/n], which makes him fall even deeper. without ever even knowing her last name.  

[ganbaremidori]

cosmic feelings - h.s

synopsis: c.e.o   h.a.r.r.y

harrys really fuckin bored. if theres one thing that his all-genius very broad and exquisitely knowledgeable brain cannot understand is how some women can throw away their self respect just like that for a night of pleasure. his lips curl in distaste as he watches the gaggle of very similar looking girls giggle and purposefully hoist up their tits as they throw unhidden glances his way. but its a shame that he’d rather watch a baby understand algebra than pay them any mind.

he thinks about edith, his white furred cat with one blind eye who waits for him to come home. he worries for her endlessly: has she eaten? has gloria served the proper amount of meat? has she given edith her meds after? 

from his mind blissfully wafting in daydreams about edith, he brought back to the rather unpleasant and disgusting reality of one of the girls from that gaggle - blonde hair and painfully stiff tits brushing against his bicep. harry physically cringes at the feeling of her totally ruined hair. 

“mr. styles,” the woman giggles. “saw you sittin’ here all alone-” the unnamed woman runs a manicured finger down the expensive fabric of harrys blazer. “although i have heard that you’ve been placed number one on forbes’ most successful men. how about i help you celebrate?” 

harrys blood boils. how fucking dare she touch him? 

harry snatches her hand away from his body with such a force that it causes the woman to stumble back. “get the fuck away from me. ‘m not interested so tell that to your swarm of friends as well.” 

his words were enough to brighten the womans face into a red that insinuates humiliation, as she shoots harry one last glare before stomping back to her group of friends. 

harry sighs. he really wouldnt even have come if it hadnt been for the fact that he had to give this really important speech on his company’s expansion to asia. but other than that, there’s really no reason to come here and talk to sexist balding men who are more than willing to practically sell their daughters to him. and on the worst possible outcome, he’d be stuck with some business man’s proud son - arrogant, snobbish and utterly aggravating. yeah, he’d much rather be anywhere but at these. 

he is reminded of the horrendous reality he’s forced to participate in when he feels a soft bump, and then cold spills all over him. oh my fucking god-

when his enraged eyes fall upon a waitress, no more than freshly twenty - a pretty brunette, he is angry beyond comprehension. the waitress herself looks like a wounded puppy, tears already bubbling in her eyes. 

“m- mr.styles, i’m so sorry i can-” 

“call the fucking manager. if i don’t get you fired today-” 

“she said she’s sorry.” a voice cuts in, and harry’s going to absolutely annihilate this person. his fuming gaze turns to meet this disruptive person when he locks eyes with the most gorgeous woman he’s seen up till now. she glared up at harry with such a force that it knocks his breath out. 

“you can talk to the manager, sure. and any further discussions you wish to have will be with the manager.” said her, in a firm voice. 

and harry’s utterly spellbound. since when has he ever listened to anybody other than himself (except his mum and sister)? despite that, with his mouth ajar, he nods. 

and as soon as she came, she left with the still terrified girl. 

and harry knows that he doesn’t have anything to worry about - what’s the manager gonna do to him? probably kiss his ass and throw out the rude girl instead, but he can’t have that. not when he’s just met her.