me when im on "x reader tag" looking for fics at 3 am BUT all i find is memes and all the funny posts under the world EXCEPT the fics abt the character :
Tr*mp's gross ass, pathetic loser ass having to be led away so he didn't photobomb a historiec spain win was highkey rage inducing. Fucking leave bitch. This ain't about you.
IT HAD TAKEN you 5 minutes into the video to get killed the first time. You were adamant it was all Harry’s fault.
You agreed to watch each other’s backs while you tried to get a task completed. In true Harry fashion he forgot what he promised to do. Lost focus. It meant Simon and Will had snuck up on you and carried out an annoyingly impressive double kill.
The two of you fell to the floor where you stood, or you did at least. As for Harry, he saw an opportunity and took it. He waited for you to lay down, then seemingly misjudged his size and ended up covering half of your body.
You grunted but didn’t protest much. That was how he knew you were okay with it.
For a while the weight of him on top of you was nice, soothing. His head was on your chest, arm around your waist. If you weren’t laying on a cold, hard floor in the middle of an old building, it might have actually been quite nice.
You thought someone would have found you by now. It had to have been at least 15 minutes since Simon and Will got you out and you were still in the same place, growing more bored by the minute.
“Do you think they’d notice if we just left?” you asked. You could head out, get some lunch and be back before anyone noticed you were missing.
“You? No. Me? Yeah.”
You scoffed, “rude.”
Back to the silence you went. Another few minutes passed before you spoke up again.
“You’re heavy,” you complained.
He rolled his eyes but didn’t bite back. When it came to you Harry was a problem solver, whether you asked him to fix something or not. Sometimes it drove you crazy, other times you welcomed it— even if you refused to tell him as much. Instead of saying a word, he rolled you both over so you were now comfortably on top of him. It was much better like this.
“Happy now?”
You snuggled your face into his neck, leg thrown over his hip, smile on your face. “Definitely.”
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“Come here.” He waved his hand, beckoning you into his arms with a small smile.
Part of you knew you should be weary. There was a high chance he was the imposter, catching suspicion during the last 2 meetings. The other part of you thought he might just be feeling clingy— which you should have known was out of the ordinary during a video.
Either way, how were you supposed to deny him when he looked so sweet?
You trudged over, trying to ignore how mud coated the white of your shoes. None of that mattered once you were in his arms anyway. He was always warm. Like a big teddy bear you got to call your boyfriend. His arms were strong, wrapping low around your back as you tucked your face into his chest.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like being in your boyfriend’s videos. You did. They just always seemed to involve lots of running and poor weather. It had been freezing since you arrived at the shoot location this morning, raining on and off while you wandered around. They certainly could have picked a nicer day for it— maybe then you would have been happier to be involved.
You were just settling into the hug when he started shifting. At first he was just moving the camera, but then there was more to it. You should have seen it coming.
A sharp poke at your back made your eyes widen. You pulled away from his chest with a gasp, looking at his growing grin with utter betrayal. “Harry!”
He just shrugged, knowing he wasn’t going to hear the end of this. “I’m sorry.”
With a frown you let the theatrics begin. “How could you?” you whined, dramatically, going limp in his arms just so he had to catch you. What he should have been doing was running away from the scene of his crime; If he got caught he’d be voted out without so much as a second thought. But you were going to drag this out, increasing the risk of his capture. If your boyfriend was willing to kill you, even during a game, you were going to make a dramatic performance out of it.
Originally, he was just going to lower you to the floor and leave you there. You would have killed him for real.
“Harry, no! The mud.”
He rolled his eyes, looking around as he tried to come up with a better solution. You didn’t expect for him to suddenly hoist you up into his arms, a squeal leaving your mouth that probably alerted someone nearby to what was happening. He was laughing as you laid limp bridal style in his arms. If he knew it would have been this much work to kill you, he wouldn’t have bothered.
He went through the hassle of carrying you all the way inside so you wouldn’t be cold, setting you on the floor near the meeting room. Warm and dry.
“Is that better, your highness?”
Obviously being dead in the game meant you weren’t supposed to talk, so with your eyes still closed and your limbs splayed everywhere, you barely nodded.
Harry just laughed, wandering off, trying to be grateful he hadn’t been caught mid-act.
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“Guys, if I get killed again I’m never doing another Sidemen video. This will be the last time you ever see me— especially if I get betrayed again. Can you believe my own boyfriend killed me? Me? The love of his life!” Most of your rambling would probably get cut out of the video. No one cared. Talking to the go-pro made you feel less alone though, a nice way to pass the time.
“If I wasn’t so scared of running into the imposter I’d probably take my chances at one of the tasks. Knowing my luck the moment I leave here someone will be waiting—“ you didn’t even get the chance to finish your sentence. A crunch of leaves behind you had your head whipping around, finding Will standing there looking rather menacing.
He must have heard you talking and thought he could sneak up on you. This one you really had brought on yourself.
The sight of him with his plastic knife in hand made you freeze completely. He was grinning, far too proud of himself for landing a potential kill so early. You were absolutely fed up with dying so fast.
“No, please.” You pleaded but you didn’t even try to run. You couldn’t be bothered. The 3rd round had only just started and here you were facing death again. It was safe to say you weren’t very good at this game at all. Either that or you were being unfairly targeted. You would argue the latter, refusing to admit you could be bad at anything. “Will, it’s not funny.”
“No hard feelings,” he insisted, leaping forward and poking his knife into your side.
You sighed loudly. You weren’t sure if you were more upset at being killed again, or having to lie down on the dirty ground while he scurried away cackling.
It took a minute for you to realise you’d chosen the worst spot to lay in. Your foot was wet. You looked down to see it was perfectly placed in an awfully deep puddle. You sighed heavily, but what was the use in moving it now when it was already wet? Someone would hopefully find you soon anyway.
Could today get any worse?
You didn’t know how long had passed before your saviour arrived. It was the footsteps you heard before anything else. Moving quickly in your direction. Hope swelled in your chest at the idea of being found. Then you heard the familiar voice; Harry. It wasn’t clear yet if you would be saved.
He rounded the corner the same way Will had, just with less malicious intent.
The man stopped in his tracks at the sight of you.
In true Harry fashion he took the dramatic route. There was a reason you were made for each other. He fell to his knees, setting his go-pro down to get you both in frame. He was about to put on an Oscar worthy performance.
“Nooo!” he waved his fists around as you tried not to laugh.
He tugged you into his arms, moving his hands over your face obnoxiously. You scrunched your nose, trying to ignore how annoying he was being. It was all on purpose. You knew him too well to think otherwise. He just wanted to see you break.
“Why you? Life is cruel. Cruel!” You had to give it to him, he was putting his all into his little show. “I will avenge you!”
You grumbled. “Harry, my foot’s been in a puddle for 10 minutes. I’ve probably got trench foot. Can you just press the stupid horn?”
He faked another cry, “it’s like I can still hear her voice.”
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