#sorry it just took me out so bad why didn't they hire actors who could actually speak mandarin properly??

[amielnitrate]

i miss mr. robot so much...watching that show as a kid fucked me up for the better

[imatechbummerliketomholland]

sorry seems to be the hardest word - h.o

Word count: 3171

Warning: angst, swear

Pairing : harrison osterfield

Request: no.

N/A: It took me so long to write this. I remember i asked @soft-haz to write something with the "sorry seems to be the hardest word" vibe, it was so good! But i wanted to write something by myself too. Remember, english is not my first language, so be kind if you spot mistakes, i really try my best. Italics parts are flashbacks

Thanks to @petersasteria because she correct a big part of this fic! Love you. Don't hesitate to tell me what you think of the fic! Love you all! xx

ღღღ

part 2 (harry hollad x reader) - part 3 (harry holland x reader)

The few rays of sunshine in London today and England's victory over the Croats had improved your mood. Tom and Harry were home as soon as the game was over, they found you sitting on the couch with a glass of wine. You hadn't wanted to join them at the bar for obvious reasons: to keep your privacy as much as possible. Living with four boys was not easy, but living with four boys, one of whom was a world-famous actor and another in the midst of the media boom, was even more so. Of course, fans knew that Tom, Harrison, Harry, and Tuwaine had a female roommate. But you've always managed to never appear with your face uncovered in any media activity of your four-favorite divs.

The bottle was already nearly empty and you were already on your drunken streak, not wanting to stop when two of your drinking buddies had just entered. What a good opportunity to continue the evening.

"Will you join me, boys?"

“Mmm yeah, sure, love.” Harry said.

But a problem presented itself to you: the boys drank beer, you drank wine. You had two options now: either open a new bottle of wine for yourself or continue the evening with beer. Your eyes turned to your glass, spilling the rest of the bottle into your jug before swallowing it dry. Harry had a stunned expression on his face as Tom smirked.

"I see hanging out with us leaves its mark."

"You wish, Holland. I knew how to do it before I even knew you existed."

"You've known me since I was 19."

"And you think I waited for you to learn how to drink?"

"Fair enough."

You met the boys in a pub. You’ll never tell Nikki that, when you met them, her precious twins drank too many beers even if they weren’t old enough to drink (technically, they weren’t criminals, drinking beer at 16 is legal and come on, it’s England!)

❀❀❀

So, you met the boys in a pub. It was one of the nights when your friends and you wanted to drink until you're blackout drunk. You were in that pub/club, looking up after one of your friends. She had detected some pretty boys in the back and left you there, alone. You moved around the room without paying attention: glass in hand, your phone you stared at in the other. You suddenly felt an arm blocking your chest with force. The surprise had made you drop your glass.

“What the heck?!?”

“You will not pass, miss.”

“Oh yeah? Why? Is the pope there?” You said sarcastically

The man who stood in your way raised an eyebrow and you looked at him, waiting for a response.

“You are very funny. It’s a VIP space.”

“Once again, why is that?”

“None of your business.”

“Actually, I don't care if Sir Elton John is in that bar or if it's even the Queen of England. I'm just looking for my friend: tall, blonde, balloon-sized fucking boobs, red dress."

“Not seen."

You sighed. The situation annoyed you to the highest point. You had lost your friend and that big asshole had broken your glass. The man in front of you seemed to be marble. Short answer, arms crossed, and an imposing posture. All you wanted tonight was just to have fun. You didn't care that God-knows-who, any famous or rich enough to book a VIP space, was in that bar.

"Would the asshole that hired you tonight, at least be kind enough to buy me the glass you broke with your bullshit?"

From his side, Harry had noticed the altercation. He then walked towards you, he laughed when he heard you insult his brother through the bouncer's fault. And as the Colossus' bodyguard was about to tell you that you could always dream of getting that free drink, Harry spoke up.

“The asshole, maybe not directly. But the asshole's brother. Certainly. It will be on his check anyway.”

“For God's sake, what are you waiting for then?”

And just like that, you met the boys. Harry paid you for the glass that the other jerk broke, invited you to this precious VIP space and you could talk and dance the night away. You had exchanged your social media and over time, your phone numbers. And as fast as you couldn't imagine, you had found yourself stuck in an apartment with four adorable idiots as roommates.

❀❀❀

"Hey, y/n, where are the others?" Harry asked.

You grumbled and grabbed the beer the curly had just opened. He protested as you took a sip. Tom gave you a curious look and you frowned behind your bottle.

"y/n?”

"I don't know where T is, but Harrison's gone on a date with Gracie."

The two brothers exchanged a look heard in the face of the bitterness they had perceived in your voice. It was no longer much of a secret that you had feelings for Harrison. You had feelings for Tom's best friend for almost as long as you'd met him. Harry had noticed it first, because you were much closer to him than to Tom. The actor had understood at the start of an evening, at the beginning of the relationship between Harrison and his girlfriend.

However, you didn't hate Gracie. She was beautiful, kind, and very funny. She really brought out the best in Harrison, she made him happy and you could see that because of the distinct smile on his face. You didn't hate her; she just wasn't you and you just weren't her. And that was the whole problem. Jealousy consumed you and you hated yourself for it.

“Are you alright, darling?” Tom asked you since silence filled the room after your last sentence.

"I'll be fine after one more drink" you simply answered.

You took a sip of the beer you stole from Harry. Drowning in alcohol was certainly not the solution. But you just wanted to forget the blond a bit for tonight. Tom's worried look made you roll your eyes.

"Oh come on, Tom. Don't give me those eyes. I will be fine ..."

“Yeah, sure.” he said with a doubt.

"Can we just watch a silly movie or play a silly game to make my night better?"

Harry seemed to hear you as he shrugged and took a sip of his drink. He knew you by heart. At this point, he really considered you his best friend. So he knew you needed something to clear your mind. Something where your mind should be quick to think about.

“One,” he said nonchalantly.

"Two" you responded with a huge smile on your face.

"You are both stupid." the Holland elder complained about the game you had just started.

"You say that because you're a lousy actor who can't remember his lines. Play Holland!"

"Three". He capitulated.

And you continued like this until 21. Then, there followed a multitude of rule additions each time you reach the number 21. The 7 turned into "I'm a poor liar", the 18 into "I'd rather kiss a guinea pig" ... And every time one of you made a mistake, he drank. After an hour, the game looked like a strange conversation from the outside.

"Squirrels are scary, man." Harry said, mimicking his older brother.

"Black Widow is the best president of the United States" Tom said

"But she’s a bad lay." you responded, with a fake sigh of disappointment

"I'd rather kiss a guinea pig"

"Because you have no taste"

"Twenty"

It was at this precise moment, in the middle of the conversation, that Harrison decided to enter the living room. His blissful smile gave way to an air of amazement and disbelief at the talk between his three roommates. It was Tom who first noticed his best friend. He nodded to greet him. Harrison wore a simple black t-shirt with chinos. You took a look at your roommate and your cheeks flushed a little more than they already were.

"Hello mate! How was your date?" asked Tom with a big smile on his face

"Awesome. Can't believe it will be a year in 3 freaking days." Harrison said.

You could see his large smile, and blissful air. He was sweating happiness and although you were happy for him, it tore your heart. You purse your lips to avoid comment. Harry spoke up.

"We're playing 21. Do you want to land with us?"

"In fact, you can take my place." You got up from the couch and walked over to the kitchen to drop off your beer drain. Harrison frowned as Tom exchanged a new look with his brother.

"y/n, you can stay, It's an unlimited players game." Harry almost begged.

"No, I'm tired. I'm going to take a shower and then go to bed."

“y/n” Harrison tried to call you to hold you back a little longer.

But you were already gone. You've never climbed the stairs so fast to run away from your roommate/best friend. Harrison looked at Tom and Harry, worried about your behavior. The curly one just shrugged his shoulders as his brother shook his head, silent. They weren't intending to get involved in this. You were the only master of your feelings and the time you'll decide to confess them to Harrison. That is why they preferred to be quiet.

☙♡❧

You spent the whole next week to avoid Harrison as much as possible. Established more distance with him was your solution to protect yourself from your feelings especially after his one-year anniversary date with Gracie and his absolute cute instagram post. It broke you down. Your heart was in peace but you couldn't blame him or his girlfriend. You were in love with the wrong guy, that's all.

But you couldn't hide from him forever. After all, you both lived in the same house, you had the same friends. So, it was hard to pretend he didn't exist.

Today was not your lucky day. You bumped into him in the kitchen. That was his opportunity to hold you down. He grabbed you by the shoulders, preventing you from burying yourself. Now he would finally find out what was wrong with you. Because Harrison wasn't a fool. He had noticed that you acted with him differently. Your behavior remained unchanged towards the other boys in the house.

“y/n. Don’t avoid me; please, please y/n, look at me”

You have plunged your eyes into its bewitching blue irises. Big mistake. You were drowning now in the turmoil of your feelings for the blonde. He had always had that effect on you, always. Tears started to bead at the corners of your eyes, you were biting your lip to hold back the torrent of tears that was already beginning to flow. Harrison's throat tightened at the sight of you like that and his hold on your shoulders slowly loosened.

“I hate seeing you like this. Please talk to me” he almost begged you

“Harrison…” your voice struggle as soon you pronounced his name.

“Please darling…tell me what’s goin’ on”

As a perfect angel, Tom was the one who saved you by interrupting this quick talk. You wiped away your tears with the end of your sleeve and run away to your room. Harrison sighed in despair. He didn't understand why you were running away from him like the plague.

“Dude, do you know why she's like that. What did I do? » He finally asked to Tom.

"I can't tell you Haz. She's the only one having the right to tell you about this"

"Bullshit. Fuck you all." Harrison said, frustrated.

Then he just quit, leaving the kitchen.

☙♡❧

Sunday came and Tom asked you all to spend the night with him before his LA trip the next evening. It was a normal night with friends. And despite your pent-up feelings and wanting to avoid Harrison at all costs, you didn't want to miss Tom, he was your friend.

There was only the usual gang: Harry, Tuwaine, Tom (obviously) and you. But the tension was felt within the group. The lingering unspoken words about your feelings for Harrison were beginning to weigh on all of your friendship. It was so bad that it hurts to stay in the same room as Harrison. All you could see was his constant happiness, this wonderful man he had always been but in a more radiant version of himself. And you weren't the cause of that. You hated it, you hated being selfish that much. You were ready to sacrifice your friendship with the young Netflix actor for two reasons: you wanted to protect yourself ... and you weren't ready to be that obstacle in the midst of Harrison and Grace's happiness.

You were in the kitchen with Harry, pretending to help him with drinks and snacks. The curly boy could see you dragging your feet, repeating like a mantra this phrase "come on, you can do it ... do it for Tom, it's his night. Don’t be selfish, you can make it." And you really wanted it ... have a good time with your friends.

Sometimes Harry felt guilty for introducing Gracie to Harrison. They worked together as set PA in 2018 and became close friends but not as close as you were with him. You considered him like your best friend. It made sense for him to feel a bit responsible for your broken heart. But you never said a word about it.

“I’m sorry, y/n” confessed Harry.

“For what?” you simply responded.

"For having hampered your happiness. I was stupid to introduce Grace to Harrison and ignore your feelings. I wanted to help my friend. "

"Bullshit Harry. Never apologize for that. You've been a great friend to Harrison."

"But not for you."

"Who cares?" you asked, trying to minimize your feelings

"Me ... you are one of my best friend y/n"

"Just like Harrison is your best friend. Don't apologize for making him happy. Fuck, I'm the one who should apologize." You said, with a tone of anger and despair in your voice

And that's how you crack, breaking in all your sensitivity. You couldn't hold back your tears from falling as you blasted everything that was on your heart. You don't even realize that Harrison is a few feet behind your back. The weight of your feelings, your anxieties explode in the kitchen as when a cup is dropped on the immaculate tiled floor.

“What I got to do to make him love me? What I got to do to make him care? Not as the sweet friend Harry. I’m deeply in love with him and it’s gonna drive me insane! What I got to do to make him want me? Huh Harry, can you tell me? All those question in my head…and no answer to that. And you know what? It's sad, sad situation…more than that it’s a shitty situation, because I'm getting away from him and it makes us sick. Because I'm unable to tell him why.”

“You just told me.” Harrison finally said.

You jumped for a second before you froze. Harry is caught off guard and rushes into the living room stammering an apology. You are trapped. You are trapped and you can hear the footsteps of your roommate coming closer to you, so close, that now you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. Gently, he places his hands on your arms and exerts pressure for you to face him.

"You love me"

"It depends ..." you replied with difficulty

"On what?"

"On what you heard before."

"Enough that you can't contradict me."

Her thin smile doesn't help you relax. Instead, you look down, admiring your two pairs of feet. You felt like being stripped naked and you didn't like that feeling. If you could have kept this secret in your grave. But now he knew and you felt even heavier than the Titanic.

"So ... is that it? Nothing more to tell me?"

"What do you want me to add to what you've already heard?"

"Sorry?" he tried.

"For what?"

"For what? y/n are you kidding me? Sorry for being distant with me, maybe? Sorry for hiding all these things from you? Sorry for not trusting our friendship to come to me and speak?" he exploded…

"What would that have been for, Harrison? You don't love me back…" you screamed back.

"I ... I’m ..."

"See, sorry seems to be the hardest word."

After that last ironic reply, silence fell in the kitchen. So was that it? Was that how your friendship was to end? The great giants of the universe had reserved this dramatic scene for you to break years of bonding. You didn't know how to get out of this situation. You didn't even know if there was a few more things to save. You were broken and had just spoiled the happiness of one of your best friends.

Harrison was silent. He seemed to be probing your body, your attitude, analyzing any gesture that might give him the opportunity to take a step towards you. But the solution was there, finding everything ... It was enough, for both of you, to swallow your pride.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" you echo your previous conversation

"Sorry for not feeling the same as you. For not being who you want me to be to you."

"You know ... I don't hate her."

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Gracie. I don't hate her. She makes you really happy. I just hate the jealousy I feel towards her… I hate that I am not her. But I don’t hate her, she's a really good girl."

A small smile dawned on Harrison's lips, the blonde toyed nervously with his fingers and the ring he always wore as an accessory.

"Yeah ... yeah she's great."

"I'm really sorry ... about everything."

"It's ok. We don't control how we feel. I..I can understand"

"Yeah..."

"y/n?" he tried; a little bit shy about what he’s gonna ask.

"Mhmm?"

"Do you think we can be friends again?"

You bow your head, taking a minute to think. Was everything really broken? Were you going to be able to rebuild a solid friendship after this conversation? Were you going to be able to squeeze out your feelings? You sighed before plunging into those beautiful blue eyes that you loved so much.

"Maybe. I hope so with all my heart."

"I hope so too. And I hope you find someone like I found Grace."

"You can always dream. You dripping with love, it's impossible to find someone like you two."

"Don't despair. He might be closer than you think."

He winked at you and you looked at him confused. But after a few seconds, a smile appeared at the corner of your lips. No, you had no hope of him talking about him. But you were happy, because that little sentence opened the door for you to a bond that you were trying to find.

[justagayguysworld-blog]

It was a job and it paid well, very well. The work was easy enough, but the real money was in the tips. That's why I jumped at the chance to sign up for a second summer of sun and fun off the California coast. Far as I know, there were no gay cruises at the time, so I guess that made Tim's little operation ahead of its time with his mostly male clientele. The Wet Dream was a nice boat with three staterooms, a big salon, full kitchen, two baths and a big ass Jacuzzi. I certainly could have lived comfortably on it, which is pretty much what Drake and I did that first summer.

Our longest "excursions" were 24 hours up and down the coast, and many were just day or night trips. Basically, I was a waiter in a swim suit whose only job was to keep Tim's "A" list guests happy. Did a lot of them hit on me? Of course; I wouldn't have been doing my job if they hadn't. If we had a full passenger list of thirty, I could easily make five-hundred bucks in a day. And I'd never spent a single night in one of those staterooms with anyone. That's why when Tim called me to say Drake wasn't coming back, I thought he had to be the dumbest fucker on the planet. Drake was good looking enough, but obviously not real bright.

"Hey, Tim. I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds here, but I wish you'd give me a couple of days to see if I can find his replacement. Obviously I know the ropes, you're hardly ever there, and it would be great to work with somebody I know and trust who won't get all pissy like Drake."

"You were reading my mind, Robbie. Look around and get back with me in couple of days. I don't want to do a repeat of Drake either."

After I hung up, I had an epiphany of sorts. I couldn't remember a time when Brett had ever owed me less than a hundred bucks. His car was a beater and always needing something. He worked at that stupid beach bar when he wasn't playing volleyball and obviously wasn't making jack shit. Plus he had a killer bod and wasn't a complete asshole.

I called. "Hey, dude, what's up? I need to talk to you. Come meet me for a beer."

"Can't, Robbie. Waiting on the old man to get off work and take me to get an alternator."

"Call him back and tell him to blow it off. I'll take you. And fuck that fucking piece of shit car square up the fucking tailpipe. I'll see you in half an hour."

After a run to the parts store, we went for a beer or six. I told him about the job and the pay, the hours, etc; "The only down side for you in this deal, Brett, is you won't be getting much beach time this summer. It's a full-time gig, but on the bright side, if you work that fine ass of yours off, you'll be driving a new car this fall. So do yourself a favor for once, call Jackie and give her two weeks' notice. Good as she's been to you, she at least deserves that.

We start June 1st, and now that you owe me two fifty, I'm taking it out of your first check, asshole."

I called Tim back the next day. "You owe me big-time for this one, boss man. I managed to snag you a Laguna volleyball God. He has wait staff experience, the body of death and he isn't Drake. I'll bring him by the office in a couple of days. He's giving two weeks' notice at his job tomorrow, and he can start with me on the first."

I thought Tim was actually going to cry when I came walking in with Brett. And Tim is straight. After they'd talked and Brett did his paperwork, the boss said, "Let's do a trial run on the 29th. I've got some friends coming in town anyway, so we'll take a full crew and go out for the day."

Brett was a natural. Tim's friends loved him almost as much as Tim, and it looked like smooth sailing ahead. Two days later we went live with a guest list of maybe twenty five. One of the last to board was an actor and his "friend." They'd been with us several times, alone and together. But we had a strict policy of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell, and sure as hell, Don't Talk" about anything that happens aboard The Wet Dream.

"Isn't that...?" Brett asked.

"Yes, but like everyone else, he isn't here, and you did not see him."

"Didn't he just come out in that movie...?"

"Yes. Now put your tongue back in your mouth and go ask them what they'd like to drink. No autographs, either."

Then late Thursday night we were driving home. Brett said, "You know the guy who's some kind of a producer, the one with little round glasses and the ponytail? He tried to grab my ass this afternoon. I scooted out of the way and gave him the evil eye. I don't think he was even drunk."

"You're an idiot, Brett. Do you know who that guy is? Lighten up, dude. That little stunt probably cost you a fifty dollar tip. Looking like you look, do you really think Tim hired you for your bartending skills?"

"So, do you let them touch you?"

"Damned straight. Fuck, it's not like it's a big deal. How many times have I grabbed your ass? I know I've seen you grab a fistful of nuts at least a hundred times. If you wanna' make serious bank, you're gonna' have to play ball. And yes, the pun was intended."

He did seem a little more relaxed the next few days. We'd been on a 24 hour excursion until Sunday morning. People got really hammered, but it looked like everyone had a blast even if we were probably going to have to drain and power wash the Jacuzzi. I also made $425 in tips. Not bad for the beginning of summer.

I asked, "How much did you make?"

"$300. I would've made $400 if I'd let some dude blow me. He offered me a hundred bucks. I told him I was too busy. Does that ever happen to you Daddy Warbucks?"

"Sorry, I'm not having this discussion, Brett. You know the rules. What happens on The Wet Dream..."

"Stays on The Wet Dream. I hear you, Captain, loud and clear."

Because we'd been out all night, they needed to clean and restock Sunday. Monday was pretty sedate. It was only four hours and we were back by nine. I asked Brett if he wanted to grab some beer and go to the beach. We'd built a fire and were sitting there relaxing. Out of the blue, he pops off with, "I just don't want to freak out with some guy's dick in my, I mean my dick in his mouth. I need to try this someplace besides work first. If I went ape shit and decked some guy, I know Tim would fire me if you didn't. And I really want that car."

"Seriously dude? I know you must have some gay friends who'd love to suck your dick. I've seen it. They'd probably suck anything and everything you've got. Ask one of them if you'd like to get in a little practice.

Look at it this way. You carry some girl out to a decent dinner and a movie. How much does that set you back? Maybe forty bucks? Does that forty get you a blowjob or a date with your hand when you get home?"

"Sometimes I get lucky."

"Fuck luck. I'll take a guaranteed income anytime. I can't believe with that face and body, you've never even fooled around with another guy."

He started laughing. "Joey Gibbons did hunch my leg once in junior high. I smacked him pretty good."

I had to laugh at the image of that. "Brett, that isn't what I mean. Joey was a little porker who drooled and had asthma. Haven't you ever looked at some of the guys on the volleyball court and thought they were hot?"

"You mean like you?"

"Okay, sure. Like me I guess." Honestly, I really think I was only trying to prove a point. "So what if I put my hand on your leg like this and started rubbing up and down? Do you really feel like you need to smack me?"

"Maybe not if you kissed me first... I'm really serious, Robbie, I want you to kiss me." When he pulled me over on top of him, it didn't seem like he was joking.

"Okay, buddy. You asked for this." It was probably five minutes before either of us came up for air.

My brains were completely scrambled, but honestly I was considering doing it again when he looked at me and said, "More." An hour later, we took one last rinse in the water and headed home. On the way, he put his hand on my leg as we drove in silence. When I pulled up in front of his house, he didn't try to kiss me, but asked, "Next time, can we do this in bed? It's gonna' take me a week to get this sand out the crack of my ass."

I laughed and shook my head. "Next time?"

"Yeah, I think I could use more practice."