Reader x Harry Styles x Jason Derulo x Barack Obama x Ed Sheeran x Zac Efron

ten: initiation

"Y/N!" You hear a familiar deep voice call your name. Barack. You run towards him, his arms outstretched, but before you make it to Obama you trip and fall. You land on all fours, the floor slippery.

"Ugh ew, what is this?" you say as you finally come to a stop after sliding around. You look at the palm of your hands and see they are glossy with grease.

"Oh," Obama chuckles. "The McDonalds frying oil leaks into our base sometimes..."

You lick your hands and taste the grease mixed with pebbles from the cave ground. Tasty.

"Anyway, Y/N, I would like you to meet the A.B.S. I see you already met my second-in-command, Taylor Swift."

You nod, still on the ground like a dog. Looking around, you see a group of people standing behind Obama. The rest of the Anti British Society?

"This is Josh," Obama announces, pointing to a short guy who looks like he wants to blow someone's whistle. "Josh Hutcherson. He's our secratary. Basically, he does everything no one else wants to do." Josh gives a thumbs up and smiles smilingly.

"Then, we got Gordon." An angry-looking middle aged man wearing a white apron. He shouts something unintelligible in a British accent. British? "He's a traitor to the British, of course," Obama notes, "and he's our chef."

"And then we have Nicki, our official Brit hunter." A pink-haired girl bedazzled in makeup and fancy clothes. She also says unintelligible words, but you can tell she's american.

This for sure was an interesting group of people, you thought. You wondered why Obama wanted you here and what your part was with Josh, Gordon, and Nicki as they seemed to all have their own roles in the ABS.

"What's this girl doin' here?" Nicki asks Obama.

"Yeeeahhh," Gordon concurs. "Whatcha gonna do with someone who can't even fry a strawberry?"

Obama clears his throat. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet our new member. Y/N is going to help us defeat Ed and bring harmony to our world once and for all."