#coach cole | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sykostyles · 2 months

Text

let you love me 1.0

wc: 3.3k summary: in which y/n is a 26 year old bakery owner and she can't quite get this whole "love" thing right; settling on finding solace in being alone. One day, Jackson Cole: an egotistical, but oh so charismatic professional quarterback comes along and swears he can change her mind.. and for a while he does. nearly two years of breaking down her walls.. but they seem to argue about one thing a lot. y/n's "negativity". she swears she's not trying ro be a pessimist.. it just works out better for her if she keeps her expectations low. But what happens when she meets a handsome stranger, who wants nothing more than to see her smile? Will she push everything away again or will she finally accept the love she deserves? or ; tldr sunshine!harry x grumpy! afab reader part two, three, extra

a/n: firstly, I need to thank @freedomfireflies for being so kind, and accepting, and encouraging.. and so many other wonderful adjectives.. but seriously, thank you for giving me the courage to just take the plunge and write the damn thing. anddd for being my beta reader!! getting mother fireflies' stamp of approval has to mean its worthy for everyone else to see.. right? welcome to my first story! please do tell if you enjoyed! (there will be more to this, I'm working on it now <3)

cw: this story contains suggestive and explicit language, minor descriptions of violence, and verbal abuse. please do not continue if these topics upset you!

You knew you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up. You weren’t sure why you thought this time would be any different. Because he was somebody? Because he had a title? Or was it because he showed a genuine interest in you? Was it because he made the effort unlike most of your previous partners? You weren’t sure. The only thing you were sure of? This time, it hurt. A lot.

You curse yourself as you walk hastily back to get back to your car at the far end of the parking lot. Jackson had a lot of nerve asking you to bring him his practice bag all the way from your apartment, to then basically dump you in the stadium corridor. As you’re rounding the final corner to finally escape the thickening air in the stadium, you’re completely lost in your thoughts, thinking back to the conversation you had just left behind..

“Hey, baby, thanks for bringing that. Coach was about to have my ass again.” Jackson breathes out as he sees you round the corner near the locker rooms. He takes the bag from your grasp, and places his other hand on the small of your back, pulling you into his front. Your hands instinctively reach for the nape of his neck; nimble fingers tangle in his wet hair at the base.

“Oh, but of course! Who would I be to not close up my shop early, again. Run all the way home to get your bag, again. Run all the way here just to step in and save the day for my big, strong man? Again.” You giggle, leaning up for a kiss.

That’s how it’s always been. Y/N is as sarcastic and as teasing as they come. She explains it as “playful bullying” and swears she doesn’t mean anything by it. She has genuine feelings in there somewhere, but she thinks nobody but her needs to know that. She just chooses to portray her affection in rather questionable ways.. In speaking terms, if she’s not being “mean” to you, she doesn’t like you. But she’s tried so hard to get better at it. She swears.

“Do you really have to do that now?” Jackson asks, tilting his head out of the way, dodging your kiss. You look up at him with shocked eyes.

“Do what? Save your ass? As you so graciously put it.” You say, rolling your eyes, attempting to kiss your boyfriend for a second time.

“No, Y/N, that.” He says, trying to pull from your grasp, rejecting you yet again.

“Jackson, I’m not following. Use your words.” you say, turning his head to force him to keep eye contact.

He wasn’t running from this when you spent forty minutes of your evening bringing him his bag for the umpteenth time in your relationship. Not to mention the possible business you're missing out on by closing early. Again.

“Oh my god, you’re still doing it! You’re talking to me like I’m stupid.” he says, stepping back again, attempting to free himself from your hold.

You stand there, stunned.

“He really is like all the others..” flashes in your mind.

“In what world is me teasing you about bringing you your practice bag, again, insinuating that you’re stupid?” You ask, reaching up to cup his face. “Forgetful? Maybe.” Your thumb making its way across the apple of his cheek

“See, you can't even make one single statement without attacking my character, even when you’re trying to explain yourself.”

“I’m not trying to explain myself, Jackson, I’m trying to understand what you’re talking about. And I’m not attacking your character, Jacky, I’m just teasing you. You know that.”

“You’re always like this. I can’t deal with this right now.” He says, grabbing your wrist, pulling your touch from his face.

“Can’t deal with what? Jackson, I haven’t done anything. Are you having a bad day or something? You were fine this morn– ” You start to say, tugging your wrist from his grasp.

“Just– Go home. I can’t deal with you right now, okay? I have a practice to get to.” He says, turning to walk into the locker room, but is stopped dead in his tracks..

“Jackson Wyatt Cole, you are not just going to walk away from this right now! You can’t just spout this nonsense and then turn into a child when asked to explain yourself. Now, either explain yourself or find someone else to bring you your bag the next time you forget it.” You seethe.

His head ticks to the side before he slowly turns to face you. Seeing the face you’d grown to love over the last nearly two years shouldn’t scare you, but in this moment you did not recognize him.

“You have got to be the definition of ungrateful.” Oh, he wants to do this now?

“For the greater part of two years I have given you everything and you still think you can talk to me like that?” Jackson starts to raise his voice, noticing the growing audience in the locker room hallway, and the curious gazes from all directions. Please don’t do this now..

“You’re always so mean to me. You know that?” I swear I don’t mean to be..

“You make me question every choice I make.” I’m just an overthinker, I don’t mean anything by it..

“Even the other girlfriends and wives ask how I deal with your attitude." Okay, ouch.

“You don’t think before you speak, it makes you look so rude.” That one’s true.. I’m trying, I promise..

“You’re so unbelievably condescending when someone tries to make friends with you.” I’m sorry.. I swear I don't mean anything by it..

“You think you’re right in every instance, including now. You could have just given me my bag, gotten a kiss and been on your way. But no, you’re here, holding me up, by being a right bitch. So, maybe I should find someone else, because all I can see right now is someone I’m not sure I want to waste my time and effort on anymore.” Okay.. wow. Um. Alright.. Lay it all out in front of your teammates, why don’t you?

You just let him sit there and berate you. Like a child.

That was it. He’d broken through that exterior. That rock solid exterior that you’d spend years building up. It all came tumbling down with just a few words from someone you thought you loved; someone you thought finally loved you. This is what it always came down to when you argued; your inability to see how great things were around you, always settling on the negative sides of things. Always responding with snarky comments, never meeting anyone elses enthusiasm, etc. Normally, you’d be able to hold your own and fight back, but he was using your insecurities and anxieties against you, with an audience nonetheless! How did harmless teasing turn into this?

“I’m.. s-sorry, Jacky.” You finally choked out, tears threatening to spill over. You wanted to stand here and keep arguing. “I’m not any of those things!” You want to yell. But deep down, you know that you are. Not by your own choice though. Through years of failed relationships and tainted family ties, you had become this person. You became this angry, pessimistic, shell of a girl who really only wanted to love, and to be loved, but you had no idea how to really do either of those things.

You never intended to turn out this way; it just happened.

And it just makes it easier in situations like this..

Right?

“Go home, Y/N. We’ll talk later.’ Jackson sighs, leaving you in the corridor.

Rounding that corner in the parking lot, you don’t even spare a glance and end up walking right into the broad chest of a man. Hands reach up and grasp your shoulders, keeping you from toppling over. Your hands shoot up, grabbing the lapels of his jacket.

“Woah there, love. I gotcha.” you hear.

Looking up, you’re met with the loveliest emerald eyes you’d ever seen. A smile, that should be illegal to be that bright.. And the jawline? Don’t even get me started! But, with your current state, you couldn’t have cared less in that moment what he looked like.

You slowly straightened up, dropping your grasp on his jacket.

“Sorry.” you stated, your eyes looking anywhere but his face. “You can let go now.”

“My apologies, Love.” The man says, letting his hold on your shoulders go. He studies you for a moment, glancing over the features of your face. Taking in your flushed cheeks, teary and swollen eyes, and your all but quivering bottom lip.

You roll your eyes at his use of the moniker again.

“Don’t call me that.” You mutter, glancing around, noticing the band of guys trailing behind this stranger.

He chuckles, “Well, what should I call you? M’ Harry, by the way.” He asks, reaching inside his jacket, he grabs a tissue and holds it out towards you.

“Does it matter?” You bite out, ignoring his gesture. “I’m kind of in a hurry, here. So if you don’t mind.” You say, starting to walk around him. “This is exactly what Jackson was talking about.” you think to yourself.

But you deter none, and continue your journey to your car. Once inside, the tears just flow.

Jackson was supposed to be different. He’s the one who sought you out after all.

He met you when he was picking up a cake his dad ordered for his mothers birthday.

He was smitten ever since.

Made all the efforts to make you feel special. Stopped in your bakery every single day to bring you coffee from your favorite shop down the street. Flowers were delivered constantly; especially since you mentioned that yellow tulips were your favorite.

“I don’t really date anymore.” You admitted when he’d asked you to let him take you out for the thousandth time.

“Too many bad experiences?” He questions.

“Yeah, you could say that.” You frowned, thinking back on a few of them.

Eventually, he slowly started to break down your walls and swore he’d change your mind. Even went so far as to listen to your worries and promised to face them with you..

But here he was, using them against you; just like everyone else did.

What you didn’t know, the moment you were out of sight, the man that you had left standing there turned to his assistant on his right,

“Ryan, was that the woman arguing with Cole?”

“Indeed, sir. Would you like her banned from stadium grounds for speaking to you like that?” Ryan asks, pulling his phone from his jacket.

“On the contrary, Ryan.” I intend to put a smile back on her face. “Please, get me her information.”

“Right away, Mr. Styles.”

Getting back to your apartment was a task in and of itself, considering it's hard to see when you’re bawling your eyes out. Walking in, you’re immediately met with the dread of Jackson eventually coming home.

You shed yourself of your jacket, and set your keys down on the counter. Glancing around the kitchen, you stop your gaze on the vase of flowers that was delivered to you just two mornings ago. Approaching the counter, you pick up the card stuck to the front of the vase.

“Saw these and thought of you. Hope they brighten your day a little. Have a great day, my love. -Jackson”

What had happened in the last two days?

What had happened since this morning?

You sat there immediately picking apart every interaction you’ve had with him over the time span.. You thought everything was fine. He usually loved your playful banter. He never complained before about your snide tongue when it came to him. He claimed it was one of his favorite things about you..

What changed since this morning?

“Okay, tough guy, I get it, you’re the boss.” You chuckle, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Although you don’t make it very far before you’re tugged right back down, being caged in by the man above you, sending you into a fit of giggles

“Oh, princess, I don't think you do.” Jackson says, sliding his hand up your side before settling on the side of your neck.

“Princess? Wouldn’t that mean you’d have to be a prince?”

“Does that bother you?” He questions.

“Well, considering you’re more of a frog than a prince, I don’t think it’s very accurate”

“What did you just call me?” He asks, wrapping his fingers lightly around the front of your throat. A sly smile forms on his face at the feeling of your breath hitching beneath his fingertips.

“A frog. Do you want me to spell it for you, baby?” You quip, smirking as you feel him increase the pressure on the sides of your throat.

“You’re going to forget how to spell your own name by the time I'm done with you, brat.”

“Mm, is that a threat or a promise, tough guy?” You challenge, reaching up to tangle your hands in his hair.

“I’ll let you decide, princess.” He says, claiming your lips in a searing kiss.

Normally he could go back and forth with you without a thought. Did he not find it playful anymore? Was he repulsed by you now? Did he really want to find someone else?

He was fine this morning!

You were driving yourself crazy. You weren’t sure you wanted to fight anymore. Not just fight with him, but fight for him. You sat back and thought more about what exactly he’d said to you. “Even the other wives and girlfriends ask how I deal with your attitude.”

So were you the topic of conversation a lot? Was your inability to act like the other (mostly) fake girlfriends and wives a problem?

Were you really that big of a problem?

You knew you could be a handful, but you never thought it would be like this.

Luckily for you, your bakery still has an apartment unit upstairs. Your old bed was currently calling your name, so, you made a drastic decision at that moment and you were going to stick to it.

You were going to remove yourself from the situation before it could get turned into anything else. It was time to run. Not that you were going to run far, just away from whatever this was turning into, no matter how much it hurt in this moment

Eventually, you stood and walked to your shared bedroom. You grabbed your carry-on suitcase, which was always packed for the times you were given no notice about accompanying Jackson to an away game, and you retreated back into the living room.

You grabbed a notebook and a pen from Jackson’s office, and had a seat at the kitchen island. Just as you were about to start writing what you were thinking, the front door swung open and in walked Jackson.

“H-hey.” you squeaked out, dropping your pen on the counter.

“Mm, hey.” he responds, dropping his bag on the counter next to you. He walks towards the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and walking back to be across from you at the island.

“What’s that?” he asks, nodding his chin towards the open notebook in front of you, seeing “Jackson,” written at the top. “You writing me an apology letter?”

You scoffed, “I’m sorry?”

“Well that’s a start. Keep going.” He grins.

“I’m not, that’s no-“ you start, but his anger bubbles over and he’s already interrupting you, waving his hand in the air to silence you.

“You’re going to sit there and tell me that you’re not going to apologize to me? For causing a scene in front of my teammates? In front of Coach? The owner? The other girlfriends?”

“Is that what this is about? What other people think of me? You’re always bringing up what the other girlfriends think.” Tears begin welling in the corners of your eyes, once again.

It is true that you’re nothing like the other girlfriends and wives of the players. Most of them are that cookie cutter, instagram influencer type. Meanwhile, your instagram is full of cakes, and cookies, and other endless pastries. The ones you spend 70% of your life perfecting to sell in your bakery. So what you tend you keep to yourself? It’s better than hanging around the Brittany’s and the Madison’s (no hate, ya'lls names just got a bad rep) all the time and hearing gossip about people you don’t know, or care about. You keep it curtly polite in public and mind your business in private. What’s so wrong with that?

“Some of them think you’re rude.”

“Some of them need to get a sense of humor.” You mumble, fidgeting in your seat.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about. You have no idea how irritating you are. It’s like you constantly have to have the last word.” He all but yells, pointer finger in your face. “And don’t get me started on the constant need for reassurance. You have no idea how exhausting that is. You’re just so.. negat-“

“That’s enough. You’re actually insane.” You interrupted, standing to leave.

He was just trying to dig the knife in at this point. The thoughts of the argument in the stadium corridor long gone.

Jackson notices your carry-on settled by your feet. “What’re you doing with that?” he asks, standing from his seat.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you say, grabbing the handle “You said yourself you thought finding someone else was a good idea, so i’m doing the hard part for you. Now you can go get one of those other professional girlfriends that you seem to want so bad.”

With every word you said, he slowly got closer to you, each word irritating him further. Once he reaches you, his hands grip your shoulders, spinning you to face him.

“I don’t know where you seem to get off,” he starts, grasping your chin in a firm hold, “but this attitude of yours stops today. Do I make myself clear? I’ve given you everything. The least you could do is act a little grateful.” He states, dropping his hold on your chin. He maneuvers himself around you, grabbing the handle of your carry-on, but you don’t let go.

“I’m through being talked to this way.” You say, yanking your carry-on towards you. “You knew how I was from the beginning. If you didn’t like the way I was, you shouldn’t have pursued me.”

“You don’t have anywhere to go. You’re too.. rough to be loved by anyone else. I’m the best thing you’ve got.” He says pulling the suitcase back towards him. “I’ll just have to shape you into the person you should be.”

You’re just having a full on tug of war game at this point. “Do you even hear yourself? The person I should be? What is that supposed to mean?”

“More.. obedient. You constantly embarrass me with your attitude in front of people. Important people, might I add.”

“Jackson, you really are insane. You think that just because you’re some big shot quarterback that you have any right to treat me this way?”

“Treat you what way? The same way you treat me?” He sneers, moving closer to tower over you.

“If you think me teasing you about forgetting your fucking practice bag all the time is the same as using my genuine fears and anxieties against me then you really are insane. Keep the suitcase then.” You say, letting go as he’s pulling it again.

You’d find a way to replace everything you’d be leaving behind.

“If you walk out that door, you’re done; we’re done.” Jackson says as he’s hot on your trail.

“Is that a promise?” You ask before slamming the door behind you.

You were startled by the sound of shattering glass. Knowing Jackson, he’d just sent the vase of flowers that adorned the counter straight into the door as you slammed it shut.

Assuming this, only solidified your decision further.

You were done.

With relationships.

For good.

Right?

a/n 2.0: thank you for reading this far! I honestly can't believe all of these words came from the thing inside my skull! I swear that thing is broken more often than not.. but seriously! thank you for reading! please go give my dear @freedomfireflies some love from me as well <3

please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#mdni & dividers both by @/cafekitsune #harry styles #harry imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader

603 notes · View notes