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writingsfromhome · 2 months

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Dos and Don’ts II

A/N: the story kinda got away from me so it’s getting a part 3. Would love to know what you think of the characters/choices!

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

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It’s a beautiful morning; the late summer heat is right around the hour but for now the morning clouds keeps the city cool. I’m sat at Harry’s dinner table with stacks of paper around me, sorting out paperwork whilst on hold with a private venue he was playing in the fall to sort out some details his manager asked me for.

I had become good at my job, multitasking like a pro and not having to leave the room to make a call. After all, it had been nearly half a year of this.

And yet, my relationship with Harry Styles had stayed the same. Sometimes it felt like it got worse.

My other relationships, in the rest of my life, had definitely gotten worse.

“Riley just called said he’s sent over some prints I bought for the bedroom,” Harry pops into the room. “Can you call someone to put them up?”

“Yeah, where do you want them?” I get up so he can show me.

“Somewhere that looks good in there,” he waves his hand. “It’s pictures of me.”

“Of course they are,” I know how big-headed he could be. “Above the bed?”

“Hm,” he heads off to the bedroom so I follow. He examines each wall of his bedroom which was pretty neutral and relaxing to be in. “Why not? Yeah. Above the bed’s good.”

“Great.” With that I head back to my makeshift office.

I wondered why Riley didn’t message me directly about the prints considering we avoided getting Harry involved in these minor decisions.

Maybe I’d ask him tonight. We were having drinks—we tried a bunch of times to get together seeing we were “coworkers” but our timing rarely worked out. Since Gray was out of town the next two nights I’d reached out to Riley.

Evening comes quicker while I’m still buried behind paper. I start tidying up after 7.

“Going home?” Harry asks. He’d been out most of the day at voice lessons.

“Yes, your dinner’s in the oven and Roy said he left cocktails in the fridge.”

“Lovely Roy,” Harry rubs his hands together. “He makes the best drinks.”

I smile and go back to work.

“There’s enough for two,” he calls with his head in the fridge. “You want to join?”

Of course the one night Harry asks me to join him personally—a time I could use to get on his good side, I’m going out.

“I’m actually heading out for drinks myself.” He’s already placed the jug on the marble countertop.

“Oh.” He freezes awkwardly. “With your fiancé?”

“No,” for some reason I feel flustered at his mention of Gray. “With Riley actually. We’ve been meaning to get together for drinks since…I started. Wow. That’s been a long time.”

“Riley,” Harry purses his lips. “Does your fiancé know?”

“It’s a friendly drink,” I feel my temper flare. “I don’t need to report to my fiance.”

“If my fiancé was going out to drinks with a man with loose hands, I’d worry.”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re not engaged,” I mouth off before I can stop myself. He raises a brow and the single movement has me backpedaling. I was such a coward. “So you don’t have to worry.”

“Y/n you get away with a lot but I’d remember who’s working for who.”

I clench my teeth. Just seconds ago he was inviting me for a drink and now I’ve dug myself a grave. I couldn’t be stopped.

I grab my bag and head to the elevator.

“Don’t turn your back on him once he’s got a few drinks in.” Harry calls out.

Asshole, I think.

***

God, Riley talked a lot. He’s got 3 drinks to my 1.5 and really got the gift of the gab.

That is until he starts asking me about Harry.

“Do you find him hot? He’s kind of a lady’s man yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” I laugh. “Got ‘em all lined up.”

“And you?” He asks casually. “Has he got you yet?”

“Riley! I’m engaged,” I flash my ring.

“Didn’t stop the last girl,” he mutters.

“What? What’s that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me,” I poke him, knowing he wanted to talk about it anyway.

“Just that the last PA he had for…less than a year? She had a boyfriend and everything but one time I pop in early to set up for this masseuse right—I’m there and I hear someone in the bedroom with him. No big deal whatever. Then Harry comes out and he’s fuming just seeing me. Tells me to get out and leave the rest, that I should have called him. All this shite. And then I see her jacket, she wore a very specific jacket, and her shoes off the way. He was angry cuz I caught them.”

“Woah,” I think about the way Harry treats me. “Well I don’t have to worry about that. He can be a right dick with me.”

“He can come off that way. Until you get to know him. Well. He used to be nicer. It’s changed a bit since I started.”

“How long?” I ask, curious.

“Uhh I was his PA for a year and now this for one and a half?”

“Wow. That’s a long time.”

“I know. Too long. Well, big things are coming for me I can feel it. How about you? Are you staying long? I hear the way he talks to you, I don’t know how you put up with it.”

I thought he talked to all his PAs that way. Maybe he was different when Riley was his. Of maybe it was that Riley was a guy. Maybe the fame got to his head. “Uhm. I want to stick around for at least a year. What do you mean the way he talks to me?”

“He’s rude.” Riley runs his hand through his hair. “Don’t you find him rude? You’re surprisingly…graceful, but he’s always bossing you around and then ignoring you.”

I feel a pit in my stomach. So I wasn’t imagining it. “I thought that’s just the way he is.”

“No, you should have met him a couple years ago. A really cool guy. He taught me a lot.” Riley suddenly sobers as he looks off into the distance. “I grew a lot with him. I’m thankful for that y’know?”

“Right,” I nod. “Yeah. I dunno. I’m hoping to learn a lot here.”

“Well if you want to stay connected, keep my number. When you wanna jump ship just let me know.”

I’m surprised Riley is talking so openly about helping me leave. I would have thought he was a Harry die-hard.

“Yeah. Hey are you the one that’s created all those notes on the phone? They’ve been a life saver.”

“Notes? Oh the lists. I made them when I was his PA. I don’t know if the last girl updated any…”

I think of the snarky additions. She definitely did.

“Well I owe you my first-born because without them I’m pretty sure I would have been fired.”

“No you wouldn’t have,” he smirks.

“Uh yeah, I forgot to bring his bloody tablet to the studio the first day. He was so mad.”

“He wouldn’t fire you y/n,” he cocks his head to the side. “Not with the way I see it.”

“Huh?” I ask but Riley’s turned to the bar to ask for another drink.

I excuse myself and freshen up, checking my phone for messages. Gray’s sent me a picture of his hotel view and I send him a quick text back. I wish he was here. Maybe it was time I got home, I was starting to feel tired.

“I’m thinking of heading home,” I tell Riley when I get back.

“Now?” He looks at his watch. “Night’s still young y/l/n.”

“I’ve been up since 6 I’m dead.”

“Fine, I’ll walk you outside.” Riley knocks back half his drink and stands, swaying slightly. I put my hand out to steady him and he smiles down at me.

The pub is crowded as we walk past people, shoulders brushing against strangers. It takes me a second to feel the hand on my back sliding down to my ass.

I whip around to chew out whichever stranger thought he could get a grope but the only person behind me is Riley with a cocky smile.

“You alright? Let’s keep going.”

I can hear the blood pumping in my ears and I stumble back, Harry��s words echoing in my ear.

“I’m alright.” I try to put distance between us. “I’ll walk myself out you should look after your drink.”

“Nah c’mon,” he reaches for me again and I inch back.

“I said I’m okay,” I know my voice comes out harsh due to the fear coursing through my body. But I don’t care.

“Bloody hell alright then,” Riley shrugs. “Night y/n.”

I wait for him to turn and leave before I get out of there. The night air cools down the flush in my cheeks but I can’t get my heart to stop racing. Harry was right and for some reason it makes me angry at him. I’m furious.

All these men just made me feel small and confused all the time. Is that what I had to accept working in this industry? Was I just naïve for thinking things could be decent? That people could be decent?

I wish more than ever that Grayson was here. I imagine him on his own in another city. Then I imagine him alone, at home, while I’m working all the time. It felt like we were on a piece of ice drifting through the ocean and the middle was cracking leaving us to drift alone. My heart feels like it’s cracking with it.

I call Gray on the ride home just to see his face. I listen to him talk about his day and slowly my grip on the anger loosens. Slowly with his voice in my ear, I come back down to earth.

***

It’s a couple weeks after the Riley incident. I’d come into work the next day and managed to ignore Harry for most of it just like he did me.

Today I’m back at the dining table waiting for Harry’s publicist to call me to take me through what was left for this upcoming weekend for a small awards show Harry had been nominated in that was happening Sunday. Riley would be on the call too, the first time I’d seen him since that night. I just hoped my pokerface was good enough to move on past any awkwardness.

“Let me get your thoughts on this,” Harry sits down across from me with a yoghurt. He’d just come from the gym and seeing him shirtless now was just another Thursday afternoon.

He’d taken to using me as a soundboard lately which started out interesting and got old quickly. He loved to hear himself talk, I’ve concluded. And I was forced to listen. And he always lied. He never wanted my thoughts on anything, just an ego stroke.

And just like usual he launches into a song he’s working on and something about string progression and inversion. I nod along until my phone rings and I pick it up instantly.

Graham and I speak about the details of event and I reassure him everything would run smoothly. When I’m done Harry’s nearly done the smoothie he grabbed while I was on the phone.

“Austria tomorrow, everything’s prepped?”

“Yep, for you.”

“Not for you?”

“I have the rest of the week off?” I remind him just like I’d been doing for the last two weeks. So this wouldn’t happen.

“You do? I thought that was next week. What am I gonna do without you there it’s 4 days.”

“I reckon you’ll survive,” I say with a light tone but I’ve learned the art of backhanded jokes. It felt like the only way to get some of my aggression out. “Plus Riley’s joining you Saturday afternoon.”

“So I’ll be alone on Friday?”

I look up from my laptop, “Are you ever really alone?”

“I guess I’ll just have to invite one of my girls to keep me company,” he continues watching me. “Keep my bed warm.”

“If you’d like,” I hated when he tried to make me uncomfortable. “Let me know which one and I can cut her a ticket.”

He clenches his jaw and levels me with an irritated look. “I’m sure Vienna has many beautiful people to choose from.”

Ignore ignore ignore. I go back to my screen and leave him on heard.

***

“It’s been too long,” Gray clinks his glass with mine. It’s Friday night and we’re having an early anniversary celebration.

This whole weekend I promised Gray I would be his from Friday though Sunday even though our actual anniversary was on Monday.

Our relationship that was once so strong, supportive, and loving had started treading rocky grounds. I felt jostled and very close to being kicked right off the ride altogether.

I look at my fiancé’s face, his dark features and serious looks made him look intimidating but a flicker of his smile and you felt like you were on the ins with him about something. I had missed him.

The last time we did anything together was at the beginning of summer. I had a long weekend off and he’d driven us to lake district, soaking in the sun and hiking along the peaks. We’d had a serious conversation about our relationship but a lot of it had felt like me apologizing and him accusing.

“You look radiant,” Gray reaches for my hand. “How are you?”

I didn’t think he wanted the real answer. I hold back a sigh and replace it with a smile, “Alright. Better now to be with you.”

He kisses the back of my hand and my stomach flutters. “Me too. I’m excited for this weekend.”

“Let’s see we’re seeing friends tomorrow for brunch, then doing old school movies and dinner in the evening.”

“That was one of our first dates don’t make fun.”

“I’m not! It’s a classic I’m excited. It’s been so long since I saw a movie with you.”

With Harry, I’d seen a few. I was always told to tag along on premieres Riley passed on.

“And Sunday we’re just being lazy bed bugs.”

“Mmm that sounds amazing.” I could use a day in bed. A week in bed would be even better.

The night is perfect and romantic and it soothes the heartache I’d been carrying, the guilt that I was killing my relationship. Gray is attentive and we laugh like we always did.

I don’t mention work. It makes me anxious knowing I had to put the biggest part of my life on mute in order to keep the good vibes going with Gray.

Saturday brunch brings me back to life. I’d missed our friends and catching up on their lives, all the chatter and the laughter. Gray keeps reaching for me at the table and I feel like I belong.

“So how’s the tyrant?” My friends had started calling Harry that since he always kept me from most of our social outings.

“The usual,” I try to keep it short for Gray’s sake.

“Grayson was complaining that you spend more time with him than your actual fiancé!”

“Is that so?” I turn to Gray with a teasing expression but he’s serious.

“I wouldn’t have helped her with the job if I knew,” Gray jokes when I nudge him. The table laughs but I fake it, knowing the kernel of truth in it.

“He can’t be all that bad?” Another friend asks.

“Nope. Pretty consistently bad,” I tell them. “I’m just telling myself it’s vital experience. It’s the only thing that helps me sleep.”

“When she sleeps at all,” Gray slips in another passive joke and I try to distance myself from it.

“Just wait, in a couple years I’ll be living my best life.” I raise my glass.

“To y/n’s best life,” the table cheers.

On the walk home from brunch Gray and I swing hands in between us. I want to bring up his passive comments but it feels stuck in my throat. His hand feels like lead in mine.

“Gray-“

“I’m sorry. I got a bit salty at brunch,” Gray admits. I nearly deflate completely with the sigh that comes out of me.

“That’s okay,” I kiss his cheek. His hand feels like an extension of mine again. “I know there’s a lot of things we don’t talk about, I know my job doesn’t make you happy. But I appreciate that you still support me and keep the peace even when I can be a bit of a dick sometimes.”

“Hey,” Gray stops and tugs me to him. “I love you. Nothing changes that.”

“I love you too,” he kisses me with the same passion he did last night, our first intimate night after a couple months. With the urgency in his kiss I can tell it wouldn’t be another couple until the next.

***

We get back in around 8 and I happily kick off the dress and boots I wore to dinner to snuggle in my pjs. I watch Gray remove his contacts as I comb through my hair.

“I still can’t believe that ending,” Gray says to me in the mirror.

“Same, I feel like everyone’s kept it so hush I didn’t even know there was going to be a plot twist!”

“I kind of saw it coming-“

“You did not!” I flick Gray. “Why do guys love to brag about seeing a movie ending coming.”

“It’s our roman empire,” he grins.

“You’re using that in the wrong context,” I roll my eyes. “Josie would be so disappointed. Oh I didn’t even turn my phone back on after the movie, Josie had texted me something.”

“Just leave it,” Gray calls out as I go back into the room to get my purse. “Let’s keep our phones off, stay unplugged tonight.”

“Too late,” I grin as my phone powers on already.

I know Gray stayed nervous about any call I got during our down time because he always thought it was Harry. To be honest I was surprised he hadn’t bothered me more than asking for a password yesterday.

As my services connect my phone vibrates with a dozen oncoming messages.

“Y/n,” I hear Grayson say in warning but my eyes stay glued to the screen that flicker with notifications.

I look up once they settle, my eyes are as wide as saucers and Gray’s watch me through the mirror, heavy and resigned.

“Please, ignore it,” Gray pleads just once.

“I just…I need to know what it’s about.” I plead back.

“It’s going to spiral,” he warns. “You can’t just look y/n you’re gonna get involved.”

“What if it’s an emergency? He wouldn’t message like this unless it’s an emergency!”

“Like the documents on Josie’s birthday? Or the hospital appointment that one bank holiday? Or his empty fridge on-“

“I get it. But Gray I have 14 notifications. And it’s from his manager too it’s gotta be an-“

“You have a life y/n!” Gray turns around quick like a pistol whip, I stumble back into the doorframe. “He has other people in his life other than you they can figure it out! Why do you keep putting your job, this man, before me? Before us?!”

“I’m not trying to! I’m not!” I stutter.

“What’s the worst case scenario huh? He tries you, and you don’t answer because you’re off. And he’ll find someone else to help—those type always have someone else.”

“You don’t get it-“

“I get it.” Gray lowers his volume. He looks around for his glasses and slides them on. “I get it clearly. You’re just scared you’re replaceable to Harry Styles.”

His words stun me a little. All I can do is watch as he puts on jeans and grabs his phone.

“Do you ever wonder who else in your life’s replaceable?” Gray says before he slams our door shut.

I sink back and my mind races with everything Grayson just said. I was awful, he must feel even more awful and I-

My phone vibrates. Jeff.

“H-hi?” I answer.

“What the fuck y/n! I’ve been trying to reach you for the last 2 hours-“

“My phone was off-“

“Have you even gotten any of the messages we’ve left you-“

“I’m not working today-“

“Obviously,” He cuts me off for the hundredth time. “Harry’s in Vienna alone with god knows who!”

I don’t point out the contradiction in his sentence.

“Isn’t Riley supposed to be with him?”

“Riley quit.”

“What?! When?”

“Today. Apparently the sneak’s been cozying up with one of Harry’s supposed friends. He’s left us high and dry!”

“Is that why you’re calling me?” My confusion grows.

“Jesus no. Just look at your bloody messages.”

I put him on speaker and check the link to the photos he sent me. I gasp.

Harry looks a mess, one in a bar and another right outside it. With a questionable choice of friends.

“He’s not answering his phone,” Jeff continues. “Nobody can reach him and Riley decided to courier the stupid phone back to the penthouse so we don’t have access to his gps. But you do. That’s why I’m trying to reach you y/n. You’ve gotta go there and get him home.”

“Get him home? He’s in another country!”

“Yes, for that niche fucking awards show. You gotta get him back to his hotel and sober him up. We paid some fucker way too much money not to leak these photos and I don’t want to find out some other fucker took more.”

“Isn’t this something his publicist should be doing? Or you?” I’m starting to get angry. Why was Harry like a big fucking toddler that I had to go get when he was misbehaving. “I took the weekend off-“

“Listen. Y/n. We will pay you 5 times your rate if you just get on a plane and sort him out. I’m in Iceland right now. On holiday! Nobody is paying me 5 times the amount to deal with this and I don’t get back to the UK until tomorrow.”

“His publicis-“

“And Graham is the one that caught all this but he doesn’t fly out until tomorrow. So that leaves you. Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

I think about Gray, should I call him? Let him know? Fuck. Fuck Harry and his ability to ruin my whole life.

“I don’t have a choice here do I?” I ask wearily.

“Sure you do, one gets you a nice pay check. The other doesn’t.”

“Fuck,” I swear just loud enough for him to hear. “Do you know when the next flight is.”

“There’s a private jet that can leave within the hour I’ll text you the address can you make it?”

I map it. 30 or so minutes away. I look around my room—I had my emergency duffle with my passport the Harry Survival Guide told me to keep so I didn’t need to pack much.

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

***

“Out of all the fucking nights,” I swear as I take the elevator down. The flight had been under 2 hours and I’d kept my eyes glued to Harry’s phone locator. He’d moved one location so far. The hotel wasn’t too far from this location so I drop my bags off on the en-suite and head out into the beautiful city.

It’s buzzing despite the hour and I wish it was a calmer trip so I could take pictures and soak in the beauty of Vienna.

Instead I trudge on to the little dot on my phone and avoid thinking about Gray and how much he would love this city. And how badly I betrayed him tonight.

What to do when he won’t answer the phone: track his gps, get good at lock-picking and don’t be shy to call whoever he’s out with to get ahold of him. Harry not answering his phone unexpectedly usually means bad decisions.

I find Harry in a kitschy club but it’s not easy. In the flashes of blue and purple lights I sort through all the men about the same height as him. None of them are him.

I knew he was here. I scan the room a second time, he had to be in one of the private sections.

I walk the perimeter until I see a flash of a familiar laugh.

“Harry!” I shout but a man in a suit steps in front of me.

“Private area,” he says in a rough accent.

“I’m his assistant I need to see him!” I point to Harry but he just steps in my way again. I shout Harry’s name and on the second try he looks up.

“Heyy!” He lights up and picks his way over the people sitting around him. He loops his arm around the brick wall in front of me. “That’s y/n! Y/n you came let her in!”

“Thank you,” I shoot the man a dirty look even though I knew he was just doing his job. He was the difference between a PR disaster and no disaster. “Harry we-“

“Have a drink!” He slurs. My heart quickens when I get a glimpse of the table with an assortment of drugs all over it. “Relax. C’mon c’mon!”

Harry pours me champagne and leads me by the hand to where he was just sitting. A couple shift away to make room for me but I stay standing as Harry sinks into the cushion.

“Mr. Styles we-“

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Harry says seriously before bursting into laughter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this uninhibited before. One part of me is nervous and another part finds it intriguing.

He tugs me down and I tip into the couch, the champagne sloshing over the rim. What the-

“Relax,” he whispers into my ear. It goes straight to my stomach. “Have some champagne and enjoy the night!”

“I want to-“

“Your fiancé won’t let you drink with me? Is that the issue here?”

“No,” I bite. “I am taking you back-“

“I,” Harry sits up and hovers over me. “I am not speaking to you until you drink! Good god woman, lean back! Relax! What do Americans say take a chill pill?”

“I don’t need a chill pill.”

Harry mimes zipping his lips closed.

I roll my eyes and bring the champagne to my lips to take a mock sip but he must anticipate this. Using his finger he tips the glass even further. Half of it drips down my chin.

“Agh!” I jerk the glass away but Harry just laughs. “This is so not funny.”

He leans in smiling. I expect him to stop but he continues moving into me until his lips are on my jaw. His mouth coasts over my skin before he buries his head in my neck where the champagne had dripped down leaving a pool of heat-

“Harry!” I jerk away and push my hands into his chest to prop him up. His eyes are half-closed but as intense as ever as he looks into mine.

What the fuck. What the fuck just happened.

My hands are shaking, steady only because of the force of Harry pressing into them. I feel the tears springing to my eyes, why the fuck did he just…

“Sorry,” he smiles, his finger brushing my cheek. “Y’had some champagne there.”

It was nothing, I tell myself. He’s drunk and taken god knows what. He’s out of his mind. And he was going for the champagne, not me.

I loosen my arms but he comes back towards me again.

“Fuck this,” I mutter. I push him back into the sofa and get up. “We are going back to the hotel. Now.”

“Just stay a little longer here. It’s life. I’m bloody famous!” His hands come around my waist to pull me towards him but I dig my heel in.

I grab him by the shirt and haul his lanky body up, it’s like lifting a slab of marble. We nearly fall into the table but I catch us on my back leg in time.

I get us outside and call a taxi. Harry sways into me and I help keep him up.

“S’cold,” he complains.

“It’s really not.” I look back to him but he doesn’t look good. I lean him against the wall gently. “Harry look at me.”

He eyes stay closed but his head bobbles and he starts to tip forward again.

“Harry!” I nearly slap him. Instead I push him against the wall and use my body to keep him propped upright. I grab his face in my hands. “Harry look at me you’re scaring me.”

“You’re scaring me,” he slurs.

I shake his face a bit and try to pry open an eye which makes him laugh.

“I was alone,” he mumbles.

“I am not carrying you into or out of that car so you better stay conscious.” I tap his cheek.

“You’re no fun.” He says and I ignore him. “I was alone but you came.”

“Not out of any choice,” I mumble.

Our taxi arrives and I’m shaking him every few minutes to keep him conscious. At the hotel I get some help to his room when they recognize his face.

I drop him in bed with a sigh of relief. He looked pathetic like that. And I wanted to cry out of frustration.

I take his shoes off and then his shirt, deciding to keep his trousers on. I leave a bottle of water on his bedside with painkillers and head to the bathroom. For the second time tonight I get ready for bed.

I scrub the sticky champagne out of my neck and block out the feeling of his lips on me. Block out the confusing feelings that arose.

I grab my phone and pray for a text from Gray but there’s nothing. I update Jeff and he sends me a thumbs up. All that and just a fucking thumbs up.

***

Still no text from Gray the next morning.

Harry’s still in bed when I get up. I crack on and order both of us breakfast, ordering the most expensive things just to get something out of being here.

Harry wakes to the smell of coffee, groaning as soon as he sits up. I don’t know what he took last night but it serves him right.

“Y/n?” He sounds just as confused as last night.

“In the flesh,” I nearly growl.

“I thought Riley’s s’pose to be here?”

“So you do remember I’m supposed to be off all weekend.” I can’t hold back on the sass. I’m too mad at everyone.

“Yeah…what?”

“Riley quit.”

“Riley…quit? That’s why you’re here?”

“No.” I want to throw my cup of coffee in his face. “I’m here because you weren’t answering your phone last night and the only updates we were getting were compromising pictures of you absolutely pissed.”

“You sound like my publicist.”

“Your publicist had to pay the photographer off.”

“It couldn’t be that bad,” Harry swings his legs over the side of the bed and winces. He notices the painkillers and pops them. “Did you undress me?”

I pull the photos up on my phone and show them to him. He throws the phone down on the bed after a glance.

“Okay so he sent you to get me back to the hotel?”

“Jeff called me.”

“Jeff’s on holiday.”

“So was I.” My anger brews over. “I had 2 fucking days off Harry and I couldn’t even get that! You had to go to Vienna and get pappd doing the stupidest shit and of course I have to come in and save your ass because I can’t get any time these days to just be!”

He groans as he gets up and shuffles towards me. My heart picks up speed but he simply reaches for the coffee and takes a big gulp. The silence stretches out after my outburst and I wait with an anxious anger for what comes out of his mouth.

“You didn’t have to come. I could have lived with the consequences of being an idiot last night-“

“Jeff didn’t give me a choic-“

“There’s always a choice,” he holds up his finger to my face, hovering an inch from my lips. “Jeff can’t do shite. If he fired you he needs my final say. So again, I didn’t ask you to come here.”

Fuck him, I think. Does he really think I could have said no and gone on with my night? Since it didn’t come out of his mouth, he vanishes any accountability? He’d totally at fault here.

“Secondly,” he wasn’t finished I guess and his eyes are like laser beams into my soul. “It’s Mr. Styles.”

Anything I was about to mouth off on disappears. Like a sinkhole it all collapses below the surface and I’m left feeling as I always did—humiliated.

“Now,” Harry puts his cup down. “That’s not to say thank you for coming to my rescue yesterday. I don’t remember a lot of it so I’m not sure what happened but I’m sure it wasn’t pretty.”

I don’t answer. I bite my tongue until it falls right off and I can swallow it. I wish I could also swallow the memory of his lips that spring to mind.

“It is a Sunday, if you’d like to take it off feel free. The stylist team is coming around 4 to get me ready for tonight.”

“Well, you’ll need me to coordinate this evening since that was the point of Riley being here,” my voice comes out smoother than I felt.

“Ok,” he dismisses me. “I need a shower.”

He leaves and I clench my fists to keep from throwing everything within range at him. How could he flip the script like this? Turn my life upside down and then act like he did nothing wrong?

I go to my phone and hover over Grayson to call him but i have a notification from him. He’s sent me a message, it’s a link.

I click it. It’s a small article in a tabloid about Harry Styles and his mystery woman. You can’t tell it’s me but our pose looks intimate from last night—him leaning against the wall with my knee in between his legs and my body propping him up while my hands hold his face.

But Grayson knows its me.

I get my other phone and message it in the group with Harry’s publicist.

He responds casually: It’ll blow over don’t worry. Can’t see your face plus romantic is better than looking fucked up like the other pics.

It would blow over for Harry but not for me.

I try to call Grayson but he doesn’t pick up.

I close the room door and bury myself in bed, aching so hard it was hard to believe I was still breathing. It felt like an end, I know I could talk it through with Grayson and explain once he saw the other photos. But something feels like it died tonight.

***

“Y/n?” A voice sings outside my door. “Helloo?”

I feel hungover as I open my crusty eyes. I’m in an unfamiliar room and-

“Hello hello?”

I sit up. I was in a hotel suite and I had to help get Harry to his show. Shit.

I look at the time, it’s nearly 5.

“Sorry!” I shout at whoever was behind the door. “Sorry one sec!”

One look in the mirror and I know I had to throw my hair up. I swish some mouthwash around and exit to the lounge.

“Hi,” a woman I’ve never met smiles kindly at me.

“Sorry. Did you need something from me?”

“Yes,” she takes my arm and leads me towards where Harry was getting his hair done. He looks amused as he watches me. “I need you here. We need to get you ready.”

“Oh no,” I say but sit where I’m told by this commanding woman. “Oh I’m just helping coordinate so you just focus on Mr.-“

“Y/n,” Harry’s deep voice cuts me off. “Riley comes with me to these things when Jeff isn’t around. Since neither are here you’re joining me and Graham.”

I look for his publicist but I’m told he was running late. Great.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” I say as the woman takes a wet wipe to my face. “I thought I had Sunday off.”

“You reminded me you’re replacing Riley,” Harry says. “And I got the team to get you a few things but I don’t know your size. I’m sure one of them will fit. Kit can tailor it if you need.”

“Wha…” my face is positioned to the side and cream is dotted all over. I shut my mouth and glance at Harry which becomes a glare when I realize he’s enjoying this.

“Lighten up Y/N, it’s not the end of the world.”

He didn’t know. It was the end of my world.

***

The red carpet or whatever this imitation of it was is a sensory nightmare. Graham had explained on the car over I was to stick to the shadows with him and his security detail. I don’t know why they stuck me in this beautifully tailored pantsuit just to be in the shadows. But apparently I could keep it so I was happy about that.

While Harry gets his name shouted and photos taken I watch from the side, hiding behind Graham’s shoulder so I don’t get caught in any pictures. The flashes still make my head hurt.

Again, we stand off to the side as Harry gets interviewed by labels I recognized and others that must be local. One woman has the nerve to ask,

“So Harry the whole internet is dying to know who your mystery woman is. Would you like to give our viewers a hint?”

I stiffen and Graham glances my way with a warning look. He’d already prepped Harry in the car but I couldn’t believe someone would be so bold as to ask. But that was show business.

“Ah you know what the media’s like, all out of context. I love the theories especially the one about this being my secret fiancé but I would like the viewers to know I’m not engaged, very much single, and not to believe everything you see online.”

I hold my breath as Harry answers but he’s a natural, I had to admit. He went off script a little—he wasn’t supposed to acknowledge the content of the photo, but he did so with grace and humour. Wow. I could learn a few things.

Graham relaxes beside me once the reporter laughs and asks if he sees himself not being single any time soon. When we finally move on Graham wraps his arm around Harry’s shoulder and gives it a shake.

“You did good kid,” he kisses his cheek with all the leftover adrenaline from the carpet. “I’ll see you in there. I see some friends I want to catch up with first.”

Then it’s just Harry and I, and his shadow of a security detail who Harry dismisses while he’s inside the room.

“So I guess now’s the part you go to your seat?” I ask. There was no What to do at an Awards Show so I was clueless and I decided I would create one myself to keep the legacy of all these dos and don’ts.

“It is,” Harry looks…nervous? His eyes flicker around the room and his jaw twitches. I do a sweep of my own, there’s a lot of people I don’t recognize and those I do I’m just about dying trying to stay casual.

“I thought that reporter was going to propose after you cleared up how single you were.”

“Hm?” Harry looks at me—in heels I was finally near eye-level to him. His gaze clears as he takes in what I said and I consider it a win getting him back down to earth. “Oh. Her, yeah she was cheeky with those questions wasn’t she?”

His smile makes me stomach dip. “Yeah she slipped them in so expertly. I thought ‘I have to take some tips from her’. And you, you were good dodging the question.”

“I didn’t lie,” Harry’s now fully engaged in our conversation. I give myself a pat on the back. “It was just you and I am still single.”

Just you. I fake a laugh, “Yeah. That photo is proof that I’m stronger than I look because you were deadweight and I managed to get you to bed y’know that.”

His green eyes flicker up and down my face for a beat. “I know that. I…hope that picture didn’t get you into any trouble.”

I look away, unsure how to answer. He brings a hand to my arm. “I can talk to someone if it helps?”

“Oh no,” my cheeks flush. “No I don’t think that would make anything better but thank you. I…appreciate the-“

“Harry? Oh my god it’s you!”

I retreat in a quarter of a second, invisible once again for Harry to shine with his colleagues. It’s a singer I recognize but I only remember her stage name, Dragon something. I watch them embrace and I try to wind up the spool of thread I’d released when Harry showed some kindness.

I think I had some issues, I became unrecognizable every time Harry was nice for a moment. I had to remember that it was temporary and there were boundaries I couldn’t cross.

Yesterday flashes into my mind. God, was it just yesterday?

Harry starts walking with the other musician arm in arm. It comes to me as I follow why I knew her. There were rumours shortly before I interviewed with Harry about seeing him on the town with this woman. So they had history. Of course.

By the time Graham joins me in our seats I’ve become part of the wallpaper and I feel like I’m being torn away when he acknowledges me to ask if everything had gone ok. I stay invisible for the rest of the evening and I try to remember that’s how it would be.

***

We’re sat on the tarmac for the ride home and I try to refresh my messages over and over but Gray hasn’t responded after I’d told him we had to talk. He was stupidly good at the cold shoulder and I felt like a needy bitch whenever he got like this.

“Could I get a water y/n?” Harry asks from across the aisle. He has his head tipped back and he looks awful—consequences of an after party where he drank himself silly again and relied on me to get him home. I did make friends with some other PAs who were roped to the party so that was the only highlight.

“Sure.” I go to the front of the jet where Graham is typing away on his laptop, oblivious to the rest of us. I grab Harry a coffee too. “It’ll help with the hangover.”

Harry accepts it graciously and I go back to refreshing my phone.

I thought he’d fallen asleep an hour into the flight until he unbuckles his seat and slips in beside me.

“Can I get your phone?” He holds his hand out.

“Why?” I ask suspiciously.

“You’re driving me crazy refreshing that thing it’s like you’re getting paid per refresh.”

I was lost in a trance doing it. I put the phone facedown on my lap but he takes it from me.

“Hey-“

“I’m keeping this until we land. I promise you if you haven’t gotten any messages by now you won’t get any at all.”

His patronizing tone wriggles something loose and I have to look away, out the window, so he doesn’t see the tears.

“My offer still stands,” he says quietly after my silence. I shake my head.

“Thanks,” my voice wavers. “It won’t help. He just gets…quiet. Any time there’s an issue he just goes quiet and it drives me f…crazy. I feel crazy.”

“You kind of look it.” I’m ready to throw him a dirty look but Harry’s smiling when I look at him. I was rarely on the receiving end of such a handsome look that I forget I was going to be mad. “What? You do, hunched over your phone pressing down over and over. My neck hurts just looking at you.”

I sigh and leans back into the seat, trying to straighten myself out.

“Sorry,” I sniffle. “I just need some sort of proof of life from him. He knows it drives me crazy when he ignores me but he does it anyway. He could be dead for all I know. Anyway, I’ll stop now you can give me my phone back.”

“Mmm no,” Harry pats the pocket he put it in. “You listen to me. It stays here.”

I don’t fight him. It was for my own good.

He sits with me for the rest of the flight. It should be uncomfortable but having another person’s presence beside me—knowing there was a shoulder pressing against mine, makes me feel a little less lonely today.

He probably didn’t intend that, I rethink the thought. Harry wasn’t thoughtful like that, he was probably just too lazy to move back.

We take the car home when we land but Harry tells me to take the rest of the Monday off even though it was already 2.

“And y/n,” Harry stops me before I exit the car where it stalls outside my complex.

“Yes?” I wait for the other shoe to drop—I had the day off but…

“If he knows it drives you crazy, and he truly loves you, he should respect you and give you a chance to talk. You deserve that.”

My breath catches at the unexpected words. I feel my defences go up.

“You’ll work it out,” he rushes on when I don’t respond.

I’m left feeling slightly reassured and mostly confused.

“Thank you,” I look at him a beat too long and it feels awkward so I scramble out and head up. To someone I hope was willing to listen like Harry said.

***

Like a baby calf out of the womb, my relationship stays on shaky grounds. It feels like building a foundation all over again after thinking that was already done with, but Hurricane Harry had caused a lot of damage.

Now 9 months into my new job I wasn’t always so on edge. But I was busy.

With no Riley, the team had decided to hold off on hiring anyone new and my work load had tripled. I’d brought it up casually and just as casually Harry had let me know I would be compensated.

I thought about Vienna a lot. Things were done and said there that should change our dynamic but didn’t. Not much. Harry was still an ass, he still demanded most of my time, and I still suffered from major anxiety about my life falling apart.

So maybe I was still on edge, just about different things.

“G’morning,” Gray whispers to me. I wanted to sleep in and cuddle with my fiancé but I’d already snoozed my alarm and I knew I had to get to work. I had errands to run all over town.

“Morning,” I burrow my head into his warm body. “I don’t wanna work.”

He kisses the top of my head. “How about I join you on some of those errands you mentioned? We can get coffee?”

I’m suddenly excited about going to work.

Gray laughs when I climb over him and kiss him like a lunatic, and we’ve been together too long to be embarrassed about morning breath or pillow face. I can’t believe I almost lost him.

The day is perfect as Gray and I move around town doing odd bits. We get to grab lunch together and I’m so glad what a good sport Gray had been about it all since I’d forced him to carry any heavy items.

“I’ll see you for dinner,” Gray drops me off at Harry’s. We linger in the lobby for a few minutes. “I’m cooking.”

“Mmm can’t wait,” I kiss him before taking the load from him. “Thank you for coming with me today.”

“I had fun, I hate to admit it.” He grins as I walk backwards to the elevator. He takes my breath away.

Grayson’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something but I collide into a body behind me before he can warn me.

“Oh shit sorry I-“ I turn and Harry stands behind me with Jeff walking off the elevator. He was probably headed to the studio and I was late. Dammnit!

“Y/N,” Harry says.

“I’m so. Sorry,” I look between Gray, Jeff, and Harry. Do I introduce everyone? Do I apologize and rush to drop these things off so I could join them like I’m supposed to?

Jeff makes it easy, walking away on his phone. Then it’s Harry and Gray.

“I’m sorry I meant to be upstairs five minutes ago.” I tell Harry who’s expression is hard to read. “Uhm…this is Grayson my fiance I don’t think y’all have met he was just dropping me off since I had my hands full. Um. Gray this is…well you know who this is I-“

My blabbering is cut short as Harry steps forward to shake hands and I nearly die at the steely look Gray gives him. Also, why the fuck did I say y’all?! I wasn’t even southern.

“Grayson Duran yeah? Nice to meet you,” Harry says. I’m surprised he knows his full name. He must have asked his friends.

“Yeah,” Gray drops his hand. “The infamous Harry Styles—I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise,” Harry says, glancing at me. Why would he say that. “As much as I’d love to chat, y/n you’re late and we’re heading to the studio. Can you give all that to the concierge?”

“Yes,” I nod. “Have you got-“

“I grabbed my things yes. I’ll see you in the car.”

Harry nods to Gray and leaves an air of cologne and annoyance behind. Gray and I lock eyes and I burn with embarrassment.

“What a dick,” Gray mumbles.

I’m offended, wait, why am I offended? It’s not like Harry wasn’t a dick.

“Yeah, I gotta go sorry babe.” I rush to the concierge and explain the delivery.

“Y’all?” Gray asks when I rush back to him.

“I know I know,” I cringe. “It just came out. I gotta go but thank you so much for today. Loveyoubye!”

I give him a quick peck and rush out, nearly collapsing into Harry’s car.

“Sorry about that, being late. That won’t happen again I meant to be there before you left-“

“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” Harry says stiffly, staring out the window. He was a dick, Gray was right. But why was I so offended at him saying that right after meeting him?

Things felt so confusing these days and I just wanted time to catch my breath and figure things out. A few more weeks and I’d get some time off for the holidays at least, I was looking forward to that.

***

Even though I planned the intimate holiday party and spent countless hours on the phone making sure every detail would be perfect I can’t help but criticize it as I join.

“Maybe I should have gone with a live band,” I mutter as someone takes mine and Grayson’s coats. Tonight I was supposed to shut my brain off as Harry said, and enjoy the party as a guest. But that part was hard to shut off after nearly 10 months of re-wiring it.

Grayson was tough to convince but finally he’d agreed to come to the party. Things were mostly back to normal with us. I tried to be home by 7 most nights and didn’t talk about work too much.

But sometimes it felt like a volcano lived inside me with how much I had to compartmentalize and keep in and when times got really tough, I wanted to spew everywhere.

“Josie told me your mom’s doing bohemian Christmas?” I ask Gray as we hover by the foyer. I’d just had a catchup with her yesterday now that she was finished exams. “Do you know what that means.”

“Mum’s crazy,” Gray sighs. His relationship with her was always followed by a sigh, an eye roll, a heavy resignation for who she was. I never quite understood it.

Josie, on the other hand, loved their loud and free-spirited mother. As for me, I thought she was the most interesting woman I ever met and we’d gotten along instantly.

“She’s always got some new idea up her sleeve,” I try to make things more positive. “What do you want a bet it’s going to be vegan?”

“I don’t bet when I know that’s what she’s serving. That’s why we do dad’s for lunch and hers for dinner. We’re too stuffed once we get there to care what she’s serving.”

“Remember when I tried to get you to go vegan and-“

“Y/N! Hi,” I’m interrupted by a friendly face in the crowd and end up chatting with people I’d worked with the last few months. We introduce our partners and they chat but I keep an eye on Grayson, in case anything changes.

I watch Harry’s friends trickle in and Gray lights up when he sees Liam and a few other people he trained.

I flit around the room with ease after that, knowing Gray had friends to keep him company. I make sure drinks are filled and catering is setting up. Until a hand stops me.

“You’re not supposed to be working tonight,” Harry reminds me.

“Yes. Right. Well…”

“Y/N,” he warns.

“Okay!” I throw my hands up. “Not working, here look I’m enjoying myself!”

I pick up a random drink and take a big sip. Champagne. Suddenly I remember the last time I drank champagne in front of Harry and I nearly cough it back up.

“Ugh,” Harry hands me a napkin and I try not to bristle. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “Yeah sorry just…just not a fan of champagne.”

We lock eyes and I’m gripped with the sudden and very real possibility that Harry may actually remember parts of that night.

When his eyes flicker down to my neck, it’s confirmed. Oh god.

“Well! I’m off to find a better drink!” I turn too quickly, nearly taking out the caterer who was setting up hors d’œuvres on the table. “Sorry!”

Oh my god. Harry remembered.

Did he remember this whole time? Was he pretending to forget that night? Did he ever remember the moment randomly in my presence like I did?

I had to stop freaking out. It had been months!

Where was Grayson.

I locate my fiancé in a random group but his eyes are already on me. I raise a hand and he smiles, raising a finger to tell me he’d be there in a moment.

My mind races in the meantime, wondering if I should mention the incident to Harry and tell him I was fine. Or maybe that proved the opposite. No. I should just keep it unspoken like we had this whole time. Oh my god!

“Quite a turnout,” Grayson comes back to me. Two drinks in his hand. “I saw you talking to Harry why did you look so scared? Did he say something?”

“Oh!” Of course Gray saw. “No. I just…almost choked on my champagne the fizz y’know? And then I didn’t want to make a scene so I left.”

“Hm,” Gray wraps his hand around my waist. “Hey I see a mistletoe I’m going to nudge you in that direction.”

“You don’t need a mistletoe to kiss me babe.”

“It’s supposed to be romantic.”

I let him lead me to it and he kisses me with a knee-bending passion.

“Woah,” I feel dazed when we finally part. “That was fucking romantic.”

“Yeah?” He grins.

“Excuse me!” Harry’s voice rings over the crowd and the room hushes slowly. “Uh hiya! Thank you all for coming tonight and making me feel like I have friends during the holidays.”

A quiet laugh rumbles over the crowd. Harry looks magnetic on his makeshift podium, he’s in a cozy red sweater that I know cost more than my month’s salary and a collar peeks out from under it. He’s got on navy slacks and tinsel thrown over his shoulder. I’d bought that sweater, I remember. But he managed to pull the rest of the outfit together well.

“…a few people.” He continues. I’d zoned out. “My manager Jeff of course—this year has been a roller coaster and you’ve managed it all. Charlie, Claire, Niji, Elin, Sarah, and Mitch. We had a ball playing our hidden shows this fall but we have so much planned for the year ahead. I’m beyond grateful that you all came into my life and we get to make music together!”

A few whoops in the crowd and the people he mention raise their hands and shout out their own praises to Harry.

Harry thanks a few more people and says some more kind words. I don’t expect him to zero in on me.

“Last, but not least folks, I want to thank somebody who joined my team this year. She’s seen a lot—she’s been in the trenches my friends, she has. But she’s stuck with me. She’s planned everything tonight so really you’re all here because of her. Y/N, please make yourself known and everyone should give her a thank you if you talk to her tonight for tonight.”

Oh god. I am as bright as Harry’s sweater and with every single eye turning on me I’m sure I also turn every shade of the rainbow. I paste on a grin that feels like I’m the Joker and hope it looks normal.

I wave awkwardly and make eyes with Harry across the room who looks like he’s having a ball putting me in the centre of everyone’s attention. I was really going to wring his neck but he winks at me and finally turns the attention back to him with a few closing words, then starting the music and food.

“Am I alive?” I ask Gray beside me whose hand had dropped from my waist during the last few minutes. “I think I died of embarrassment and turned into the ghost of Christmas’ present.”

I turn to Gray and he looks around me. “Hello? Is someone talking to me?”

“Gray!” I push his shoulder and he laughs. “I hated every second of that.”

“I know,” Gray laughs again. “You hate attention.”

“I do! I swear Harry was up there gloating didn’t you notice? Ugh I hate him.”

Gray’s expression shutters for a second. “Yeah, he definitely knew what he was doing.”

“Y/N, quite a shoutout.” A voice says from my right. It’s Liam who I hadn’t seen myself in ages. I go in for a hug and hope my embarrassment clears away as we catch up.

As the night goes on I ease up a little, enjoy the mingling and the drinks. Especially the drinks. The evening’s embarrassment and everyone coming up to me knowing my name was hell so I drink to keep up the liquid courage.

Coming out of the toilets for the tenth time that night with all the drinks I was downing, I notice a light on in the room.

I go to it, in case it was a guest in a place they shouldn’t be.

I don’t spot him at first, flicking off the lights only to see a shadow move. Harry.

“Oh! It’s you. Is everything alright?” I lean in the doorway. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in this office actually. He always hovered outside it like I was now.

“Yeah yeah, just came for some air.” He walks up to me and I step out of the way so he can leave. But he stays just inside so I move back to my spot.

“Air? In the smallest room here?”

“Yeah,” he smiles like he’s been caught. “I was looking for you. We ran out of ice I just don’t remember where you stored the rest.”

“Well I’m not working remember? So I don’t know.”

“Touché. I guess the guests will just have a shite time with their lukewarm drinks.”

Ugh. He knew me too well.

“Fine. I’ll get the bag. By the way, that wasn’t funny. What you did earlier.” I put my hands on my hips, ready to give him a piece of my mind for embarrassing me.

“What!? It wasn’t meant to be funny. I’m expressing my gratitude y/n.”

“In front of a whole room of random people who are all looking at me? You know I would have hated it!”

“Let’s just say I’m trying to get you out of your shell,” Harry teases. He smells of his usual cologne, the fresh soap he used, and scotch. I spot the empty glass on my desk.

“I’m plenty out of my shell thank you. You know, you could have just said it to me privately. That would have meant more.”

His mouth opens but nothing comes out. He inhales sharply and turns around.

“What?” I ask his back.

“Nothing.” He turns back around. “You do good work y/n, people should know.”

Now it’s my turn to go quiet. I only seemed to do this when Harry was nice. Because otherwise I knew how mean he could be. Why couldn’t there just be a balance.

“Why are you so randomly nice to me?”

Oops. All those drinks made for some loose lips.

“What?” He’s taken aback.

“Yeah,” I feel fired up now that it’s out. “You ignore me half the time—not that I expect to be bffs but at least a hello now and then would be nice. Then when you do talk it’s grunts and clipped answers. You’re pretty mean to me! And suddenly out of nowhere it’s like-like this 180 and you’re really nice. And praising me in front of a crowd. What’s up with that?”

His expression retreats the more I talk and I know I’ve dug myself into a hole. Forget the whole speech just now I’m pretty sure I’ve just written my own termination notice.

“I have to be,” he says simply after an awkward pause.

“Have to?” I demand. “You have to be mean to me?”

The long deleted Dos and Dont list when I first joined flashes through my mind. Did that have something to do with it?

“Because when I spoke to Riley that one time for drinks, he told me you weren’t always this mean. So is it me? You just said to a whole crowd how helpful I am so I just don’t get why you’re so mean sometimes!”

“What else did Riley say?” Harry hangs on to that.

“I…a lot I dunno! Riley faffs a lot. He’s also a creep but that’s neither here nor there I-“

“What do you mean he’s a creep?” The room feels even smaller as he zeroes in.

“I-“ I try to stutter something to change the subject but he stays on, asking me again. “It’s nothing. He was drunk and he made a pass at me-“

“He did?! Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s zero space between the two of us now.

“Why would I? It was something that happened outside work hours, plus you warned me and I didn’t listen-“

“Y/n you should have told me,” he swears. “I let that little shite get away with way too much.”

“Yeah well he’s not the only person working here who’s made a drunken pass at me so let’s not make it a big deal okay?”

I guess I wasn’t holding back.

Harry closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. One mississippi two mississippi three-

“You’re right.”

My heart pounds in my chest. I want to get out of this room, find Gray, and stay in the light. Because this small, dimly lit space was becoming too intimate. And yet, I can’t seem to will myself to move.

“I am?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. It doesn’t cut it—what I did was incredibly wrong. Being drunk shouldn’t be an excuse and I promise I don’t go around doing that to everyone-“

“I know,” I say before thinking. It was weird of Harry to do but I never felt unsafe with him. I understood what he was trying to say.

“You can make it a big deal if you want. It shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again.”

I feel weird having the roles reversed—Harry apologizing to me. Promising not to do something again. I recognize what he’s doing is right but I don’t know what to do with myself. My breathing’s shallow with Harry so close to me, practically hovering over me. I should’ve worn higher heels to really equal the field.

“Thanks,” I finally manage. It’s low and raspy and I barely get in enough air to speak it. He doesn’t respond.

We stay in the tableau, our breathing irregular, in between a single decision that both of us knew wouldn’t end well. Yet neither of us are strong enough to end the frozen display.

“You clean up nice,” he says, eyes never leaving mine as he compliments my getup. I’d worn a simple cowl-necked slip dress and strappy shoes with my hair in an up-do. I was definitely underdressed after seeing the other guests but I believe Harry means it.

“Don’t look as haggard as I usually do, you mean?” I find my voice again. I barely have to whisper for him to hear.

“You never look haggard,” Harry says as he brings his hand up and traces the curve of my dress strap. My heartbeat was loud and surely showing through my dress.

“You should go,” Harry adds in a whisper.

My head feels like it’s filled with carbonation as I nod in agreement. This was bad. With a capital B. I had to go.

“I…should go.” I repeat. Slowly I inch sideways on the wall and Harry leans away. We stare at each other for another long moment before I scurry away, my heart in my throat and my guilt where my heart should be.

“Don’t forget the ice,” I hear Harry call out from the room. Miraculously this is exactly when Grayson turns the corner.

“Y/n? Where were you?”

“Oh I-“ I imagined I looked fucked up. Because I felt high and out of my mind. The white lie comes out, attached to a thread that unstitches something within. “I drank too much, so I was in the toilet.”

“Oh,” Gray looks relieved and I’m sinking with guilt. Technically I did nothing wrong. I didn’t even have feelings for Harry. But whatever physical magnetism he seemed to have nearly made me do something I’d seriously regret. “Did I hear someone say something about ice?”

“Yeah!” I laugh and it comes out like I had never learned how. “I just bumped into Harry, we ran out of ice. So much for not working huh?”

“At least everyone knows how hard you work,” he jokes.

I stick to Gray’s side for the rest of the night, not touching a single drop of alcohol. I had to forget everything in that room ever happened if I wanted to keep my job and my sanity. I had to be a better person, the devil was handsome and I had to stop playing into his tricks.

I call it quits a few hours later when I notice Gray low on energy.

“I’ll get our coats,” I tell him. The relief on his face is palpable.

I go through where the spare closet was but hear voices in Harry’s darkened room. The door’s open so I go to investigate. I regret it instantly.

Harry’s inside with a woman, I don’t see much of her as she’s on the bed but I know it’s Harry with the tone of his voice as they exchange words.

My stomach drops and it’s like an accident on the side of the road, I’m mortified but I can’t look away.

I watch him kiss her and I feel like I’m sinking through the floorboards.

“Oh!” The woman notices me when she turns her head and pulls the sheet up. She whispers, “you didn’t close the-“

“Oh it’s fine,” Harry laughs. He sits back on his legs and looks at me, his expression void of anything he was tonight. Like the moment in the room didn’t even happen. “It’s just y/n.”

Of course it didn’t matter to him, I scold myself. I was the one with fucked up issues that couldn’t make up my stupid mind about how I wanted to feel about this man who literally paid me to be around. Who treated me like shit most of the time. Who was nice to me sometimes and I misconstrued it to mean a whole lot more.

What was I thinking? Did I think suddenly this man who’s known to be a player had a single one-sided intense moment with me and that would change him?

I was an absolute idiot.

“Could you get the door?” Harry asks so casually, so nonchalantly, that it punches me in the chest. It was closer to some combination of humiliation and self-inflicted hurt but for now it feels like my chest aches.

“O-of course.” I shut the door and stand there, taking in deep breaths as I try not to think about everything that just happened. Tried not to think of all the million ways I was the worst girlfriend in the world. Tried not to think about the fact that I had to quit sooner than later because things were getting tangled up and it was not okay.

xxxxxxxxxx

TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld

I’m trying to make part 3 the last—it includes your final decisions and returning to the present to find out what happens (from the beginning of the story). Thank you, as always, for reading <3 xx

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles series #musician!harry #slow burn

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withoutyouimsaskia · 3 months

Text

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 1)

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

GIF: Originally posted by @tavners

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Home invasion. Voyeurism. Implied masturbation. Dream manipulation.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Wow, this took way longer to finish than I had originally planned. My head's been all over the place with trying (and thus far failing) to find a new job. The themes are very different to what I've written before; I hope it reads okay. Please let me know what you think. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

---------------------------------------------

Fate.

A phenomenon that governed every particle of matter within the known universe and even those beyond.

Some considered it a comforting concept that excused them from the burden of decision making, citing: "I'll leave it up to fate." For others the phrase was a cursory, throw-away comment or a romantic line they heard in the lyrics of a song.

The real truth of the matter was that Fate was a trio of immortal beings, goddesses, with sight so potent that they knew the past, present and future of every individual to have lived. The mythology of the Greeks, Romans and Norse hadn't been too far off with their stories of the Moirai, Parcae and Norns but of course, no humans really believed there to be any realism in myths. They were just stories. It didn't matter either way; they existed and had influence regardless of what the majority believed.

For beings such as The Endless siblings, the presence of Fate in the cosmos was not only real, but also something that affected even themselves.

For the King of Dreams, an eventuality had been prophesised long ago by The Kindly Ones that spoke of a bond that was to be forged between himself and a mortal.

Lord Morpheus, in his pride, had tried to be above such a foretelling, even questioning its validity because the notion of a mortal accepting his version of the universe seemed wholly implausible.

But he could not truly stop himself from wondering about you, reaching out to see if he could feel your presence in the minds of the dreamers he hosted.

It wasn't something he indulged in with frequency. More of a once-in a-decade interval. Enough to appease his curiosity.

Of course, this was put on hold during his imprisonment at Fawney Rig.

Morpheus had had much to contemplate during this period. The damage his absence caused to the collective subconscious, the decay of his realm, the loss of freedom and dignity. There was also a chance that you had been born and died in the 106 years he spent in captivity.

What if he was too late and had lost the chance of discovering who you were?

It was a nauseating prospect that scraped and scratched a space deep within his being; bleeding him of his remaining stores of hope that were so significantly depleted after the death of beloved Jessamy.

Despite the nasty emotional wound, finding you was a charge that he assigned at the end of his priorities after his escape.

Recovering his scattered tools, restoring the Dreaming, locating his absent creations, unravelling the mystery of Rose Walker and confronting Desire all had needed to come first.

The latter interaction had left Morpheus with a seething rage that was currently propelling him down the boards of the dock that sit above the Ocean of Dreams.

The dense mist in the air is buffeted by his movements and the only sounds are the tread of boots, the creak of wooden slats and the lap of water.

With each step, the liquid becomes choppier as it reacts to its master's mood and by the time he has reached the end of the dock, the surface of the water roils fervorously, completely in line with Morpheus' dangerous temperament.

The words of Desire's final silken-toned taunt echo in his mind with grating persistence.

"Oh, poor Dream. I really got under your skin this time, didn't I?"

He is loathe to admit there is truth in the question.

There are moments where Morpheus ponders the turn that the relationship between them has taken. How Desire went from being his favourite sibling to someone one shade shy of an adversary. Their faultless adeptness at provoking his temper and manipulating the events that encircle him would be impressive if not for the danger posed to humanity.

The agitated water eventually draws focus to how out of control he and his emotions have become. Morpheus knows he must get them in check, and quickly, for he knows the consequences all too well should he ignore it.

He clenches his fist and swallows it all down, pushing it deep inside his belly until the crackling entropy of the anger is fully dispelled.

Morpheus then sweeps his coat out behind him as he sinks lithely into a crouch. Trepidation nips at his heart and tugs his attention to a sobering thought.

This foray into the water may be fruitless.

You may be long gone and there would be no way of ever knowing you.

His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath; he has run out of excuses to not look, even if he is afraid of the outcome.

Long, delicate fingers dapple the surface of the inky ocean. The waves still at the touch, obedient to him with instancy.

He repositions to full height and reaches into his coat to find the pouch of sand stashed in the pocket. A handful of twinkling grains slip off his palm into the ocean, lighting the water it touches to a luminous green.

"Find my soulmate," Morpheus commands silently.

The intention is set. He steps off the dock into the water.

At first, like every other prior attempt, there is no sign of you. Morpheus floats submerged in the tepid liquid, filtering through the hubbub of countless other dreams and nightmares.

Then there is a pull.

It is faint yet indisputable. Warmth explodes in his chest and he groans inwardly from the delicious sensation of relief.

You are alive, and you are dreaming.

A path of radiance appears in the water, a line that shows your connection, and provides a location for him to hone in on.

Morpheus dives deeper without hesitation.

As he reaches the edge of your subconscious, he rejoices that he got a handle on his emotions. He wouldn't want your first perception of him to be one tinged with rage, however unaware you were of him, with your soulmate being the source.

He hesitates for a moment before entering the dream you are in and is somewhat taken aback by what he finds.

A room comprising of four blank walls, a floor, a ceiling and a door. There is but one other feature; a window, and its view is as non-descript and inoffensive as the internal space.

You stand by said window, head turned from him.

Despite being unable to see your face, he sees your anxiety with immediacy. It is an aura hovering about your body, being sucked into your lungs with every fast-paced breath.

You begin to throw glances towards the door. Morpheus filters through the layers of the dream. No one is scheduled to come across the threshold.

The more he observes, the more questions arise in Morpheus' mind.

What was making you so affected? What were you expecting to happen?

There's nothing in the scene that is intended to be unpleasant yet you are reacting in a way that most observers would characterise as unsettled.

Morpheus, despite not yet knowing you, doesn't like to see you this way. His dominant instinct is to end the dream but he quashes the desire to review the bigger picture.

The empty room dream was symbolic of a beginning.

It clicks into place.

What you were feeling, even if on a purely instinctual level, was the anticipation of meeting your soulmate and starting your new life.

Morpheus steps into the frame, just a couple of paces behind you.

You feel his presence instantly, eyes full to the brim with tears as you whirl around with a soft gasp.

You see him.

The tears spill and patter onto the white floor.

Morpheus reaches out, overcome by his need to provide comfort.

You disappear.

-------------------------------------

Morpheus is sat on his throne. He pores over the book he had located in the Dreaming's library a little over a week ago that contains the details of your life. It is something he has taken to doing when the impatience of waiting for you to fall asleep becomes too keen.

Your subconscious has him enraptured, watching it every night as if it is a stage show. Each dream he delves into is like the tug of fingers on a loose thread, your psyche has begun to unravel before him.

Everything from whims to cravings, hopes to fears. Your temperament, the things that delight and irk you. What drives you and demotivates you. He consumes it all with an insatiable hunger.

Based on the projection of yourself that he sees, there is no doubt that he is attracted to you.

All that prior haughty disregard for the Fates' prophecy has been cast aside like a negative thought in a meditation session. Morpheus is a romantic. A believer. He is ashamed to have even doubted your coming.

He wonders if it would vex Desire to learn of him finding his soulmate and by extension, the prospect of companionship, perhaps even physical intimacy or love.

It is all too easy to imagine the sickly sweet grin they would smile at him, shown to be fake by the almost imperceptible contempt glinting in their golden eyes.

Would his triumph drive them to distraction?

It is this smug sentiment that spurs his next decision. He wants more. The next logical step is to find you in the waking world.

He rises from his throne, a sure hand ready to bring forth his pouch of sand when he falters.

Tears pool in his eyes.

His mind is suddenly marred with the memories of what happened in 1916. The agony, mortification and rage that followed. He couldn't go through that kind of treatment ever again and the waking world expanded the risk of it transpiring.

"No," he says resolutely. His sadness turns to resolve, the hard line of his grimace matching those set in his brows.

He will not let the actions of a group of mortals dissuade him from going to you. And besides, he has researched everything he can about you from within the safety of the Dreaming.

He takes a measure of sand and uses it to materialise within your bedroom.

It is obvious from a quick scan of it that deliberate attempts have been made to ensure the space is cosy and calming.

Two marshmallowy pillows support your head. The cotton sheets have been meticulously tucked to avoid drafts. A lavender reed diffuser fragrances the air with a subtle scent. There are no devices or screens visible.

Everything has its place. A coaster supported glass of water within reaching distance. Touch activated lamp in case of emergency. The diary lined up with the back left corner of the bedside table, pen placed parallel in the spine dent. All clothes are in the wardrobe or stashed in the laundry basket.

Morpheus moves to the curtain-shrouded window and delicately moves the dark, heavy fabric to catch a glimpse of the outside world.

The scene is sepia stained from an old streetlight positioned right outside your home. It explained the choice of curtains.

You stir slightly from the change in environment and Morpheus allows the curtain to fall back in place. He remains stationary until your breathing returns to its previous pace. It is imperative that his presence remains undisclosed. He knows that mortals do not take well to home invasion.

Then, your right hand slips out from the duvet cocoon revealing a cushion cut ruby ring on your middle finger.

He smiles exultantly. The similarity between the jewel and his own now-destroyed dreamstone was undeniable.

The Fates were making it transparent.

You were the one.

Morpheus approaches the side of your bed now. In your momentary discomfort, you had moved your head, making your whole face visible to your uninvited guest.

He bends gracefully so his face is closer to yours and observes you with an intent fascination.

Even in the gloom, Morpheus asserts that your features are even more captivating now that he is able to look upon them in person and is certain that if he could guarantee an absence of fear then he would fall to knees and worship you right there.

Fingers stroke a lock of hair splayed across the pillow and his thoughts turn darker still, imagining what he would do with you if he could get you alone in the Dreaming. How he would seduce you with words, and then pleasure your body with his own until you were senseless.

Getting you there would be so easy, all he needed to do was move his hand up and touch your skin and -

Morpheus stops himself, deciding that now is not the time for an introduction. He will wait until tomorrow. You need to rest. It will be quite the revelation for your sweet mortal heart.

Morpheus whispers a promise, "We will be together soon, my precious soulmate."

He leaves after taking one last look at your peaceful form.

When he returns to the Dreaming, Morpheus discovers that the visit has riled him way beyond what he thought possible.

It was supposed to sate his curiosity and answer some questions.

It has done the opposite.

His craving for you is sublimely intense, opiate-like in its ensnarement.

He needs to possess you. To have you all to himself. Everything would fall into place. Loneliness, disillusionment, jealousy; they would never darken his outlook again. You would heal him, he is certain of it.

He paces restlessly in the low light of his private chambers as heat ripples beneath the surface of his being, charging him with pure sexual lust.

He hungers for the moment when you feel the same about him.

For now, all he can do is stand and touch himself while thinking of your face, an act that has been carried out repeatedly in the days since he found you in the Ocean of Dreams.

An erotic idea enters his mind.

Your subconscious is still in the Dreaming; he knows the feeling of it intimately.

Perhaps he could bring you a dream mirroring his own current fantasy.

To give you a taste of what was to come.

A gift that only he could bestow.

The mere thought of it turns him on even more. His back arches and his eyes roll back as he choses the words through which he would deliver the offering.

"Dream of me," Morpheus murmurs breathlessly. "Dream of me."

He repeats the phrase until he is unable to continue, moans taking over the darkened space around him.

-------------------------------------

It is dusk the next day when Morpheus returns to the waking world.

The instant he touches down on the Earth's surface, he knows exactly where to go. The metaphysical connection between you is as strong as the energy pulsing through a ley line.

The city he is directed to is thrumming with life but the side street he stands in has been spared from the furore.

It is fortuitous that he is permitted to be unobserved for Morpheus is struggling now with the urge to get closer.

Providence is pulling him in and also locking him out.

He walks up to the door and then an invisible force makes him back away.

He doesn't even try to fight it.

The Fates hold all the cards. Morpheus is beholden to their each and every whim.

It is surprisingly liberating.

He is dancing in the cross hairs. Blinkered by the tie the universe has fashioned for you.

All he has to do is wait.

The door to the building is pushed open.

-------------------------------------

Taglist: @herfantasyworldd

"Fate. Up against your will. Through the thick and thin. He will wait until you give yourself to him."

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cvrnelians · 1 year

Text

smile like you mean it - chapter four

You knew filing for divorce would be no easy feat. But filing for divorce from Roman Roy?

"No easy feat” might as well have been synonymous with “impossible."

warnings: drug use, alcoholism, miscarriage, Roman and the rest of the Roy family being awful.

chapters 1-3 // chapter five

music

☽ Chapter Four ☽

“Are you mad at me?”

It was a genuine inquiry. You could tell by his tone of voice—whiny, timid, uncertain. He sounded like a kid that just smacked his friend on the playground, not a grown man that just accosted you on a private jet. Karma pays everyone a visit eventually, even the rich and powerful. Today, Roman’s karma came in the form of:

complete and utter terror over the plane landing, and

complete and utter terror over you being done with his shit.

The image of Roman’s barely restrained panic as the jet plummeted downwards flashed through your mind as you broke into a sprint across the tarmac. That image was the one and only thing keeping you sane at the moment. He looked the most rigid you had ever seen him as you came to an aptly rough landing, back pressed straight up against his seat as he clutched onto the armrests with shaky hands. Although you would never admit it, seeing him like that—after all he had said to you that afternoon—was the first time you smiled the entire flight.

Your throat was dry, your eyes were red and swollen from crying, and your ears were plugged. Needless to say, you were more than enthused to finally breathe in some fresh air. You lugged your suitcase behind you, its wheels squeaking loudly against the concrete. You were pretty sure you had pulled a muscle in your shoulder after yanking it down from the overhead compartment, but you didn’t really care. Your main priority was getting off that godforsaken plane and away from Roman as quickly as possible.

It wasn’t difficult to decide that you would be sitting next to the driver on this beautiful, windy evening in Herefordshire. There was no way in hell you were trapping yourself with your soon-to-be-former boss in a confined space again. You were already in the process of opening the front passenger’s side door when the driver stepped out; a thin, tall man somewhere in his sixties.

“Hi!” you practically yelled at him, receiving a bemused look in return.

“Good evening, ma’am. You in a rush?”

“Something like that. Just glad to have my feet back on the ground again.”

When you looked behind you, you were surprised to see Roman also barrelling full speed ahead towards the car. You found it laughable, considering how much he despised running. He would find any and every excuse to take a break whenever you went on your morning jogs together. “Morning jogs.” Yeah…

They were typically more of a walk/run hybrid, with breaks lasting longer than the time spent exercising. During these breaks, there was almost always food involved. This was one aspect of your job you didn’t hate. Roman really liked breakfast, so you often got free donuts and coffee out of the deal. A meager perk of working for the spawn of Satan, but a perk all the same.

You had managed to pull the car door open less than halfway when it was abruptly slammed shut. Roman pressed his hand flat up against the window as he leaned over you. Even while breathing heavily, he still managed to bestow you with you that smug little smirk of his.

You kept it simple.

“Romulus, I've had enough. Move.”

Roman raised his eyebrows. “Romulus, huh? Wow. That really gets me going.”

You glared at him, pulling the door ajar only for him to slam it shut once again. You hated him. You hated him with every fiber of your being.

“Roman, I’m serious. Move.”

“Awwwww, no more Romulus? Why not?”

“Get out of my way and let me open the door.”

”Whaaat?” he asked, his voice rising an octave as he held his arms up defensively. “I’m not sure what you mean.” He had to scramble to close the door when you tried opening it again, bumping into you in the process. You jolted at the sudden movement, stumbling into him. You could hear a loud thud and an even louder “OW!” as he hit the pavement. On any other day, you would immediately check to see that he was okay. Today wasn’t any other day, though.

Today, you felt like you were going to pop a vein in your forehead if you didn’t immediately remove yourself from his presence.

“Oh, come on!” he lamented, getting up just as quickly as he went down. He wrapped his arms around your midriff and pulled you backwards in an effort to move towards the backseat. He was so close to you that you were tripping over one other, collapsing onto the concrete. Once. Twice. Three times. At a certain point, you were both thrashing around so much that you weren’t even trying to meet your objectives—yours to go towards the front seat, and his to move you towards the back seat. At this juncture, you were simply trying (and failing) to protect the other from hitting the ground.

“Stop falling!” he yelled. “STOP FALLING!”

“STOP MAKING ME FALL!”

“JUST GET IN THE CAR!”

“I’M TRYING!”

The driver was making a valiant attempt to physically separate you. It was like trying to get in between two very irate koalas. “Sir…ma’am…you need t—” You could feel the driver’s hand gingerly touch your shoulder when you accidentally slammed into him, sending this poor, innocent bystander plummeting to the ground. Roman’s eyes widened as he finally let you go.

You managed to find your footing again, standing directly across from him as he stared at you. He reminded you of a housecat that managed to find its way outside and completely froze, not knowing what to do—even after putting himself in this position. You scoffed in disgust. Even if he was caught off guard, he didn’t even lean down to make sure the man was okay. You turned towards the driver, lying on his side with a stunned look on his face. “Are you alright?” you asked, reaching over to try and help him up. “Sir, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry.”

The man simply sighed as he stood up, Roman jumping in at the last second.

“Yeah, sorry Gramps,” he said flippantly, his voice shaky. “Looks like you got caught in the crossfire.”

“Fucking unbelievable,” you snapped, rushing to wrench open the trunk and throw your suitcase inside.

Roman’s karma also came in the form of you sitting as far away from him as humanly possible on the car ride to Siobahn’s wedding venue—a castle “belonging to a family friend” where you would all be staying for the next week. No big deal or anything.

Or rather, would’ve been staying for the next week.

It was no longer so difficult to imagine yourself quitting this job. It simply wasn’t worth it anymore. You would figure something out. Even if he ruined your reputation, he had made a lot of enemies during his short time as COO. Surely someone in the industry would hire you, and even if they didn’t, you could get a job in another field entirely. You hadn’t been planning on being an assistant for the rest of your life anyway. Sure, you had wanted to move up in the corporate world. Sure, it was a shame that some entitled manchild was driving you away from what you wanted, but again.

Was it all really worth it?

There was a divider in the car, a tinted window that separated Roman from you and the driver, who you now knew as Doug. Ah, Doug. Although you had only known him for a few minutes, you definitively concluded that he was one of the most understanding human beings on the planet. You supposed you couldn’t be too surprised that he was so forgiving of the situation, granted that he had been working for Caroline for several years. Sadly, he must’ve been used to that level of…whatever the hell that was.

Little did you know, that tinted window worked just like any other window in the vehicle: it could be opened and closed. And open it did, with just the push of a button from the backseat. You let out a groan as the window slowly rolled down, Roman’s anxious face appearing in the rearview mirror. He seemed uncomfortable, like he was sick to his stomach. And then came the winning question.

“Are you mad at me?”

You were quiet for such a long time that he started to ask again.

“Are y—”

“I quit.”

You said the words before they were even fully formed in your brain. You pressed the button to roll the window back up, but he quickly rolled it back down.

“You…um. You quit what, exactly?”

“I quit,” you repeated. “I’m done. It’s over.”

“What are you quitting? Quitting smoking? Quitting your gym membership? Quitting life? Do I need to get you 5150’d, or…?” He was being sarcastic as usual but the discomfort in his voice betrayed him.

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this one bit.

“This job, Roman!” you snapped. “I quit. I don’t want to work for you anymore. I never did.”

He was the quiet one this time. You tried clicking the button only for him to roll the window back down again. You wanted to scream. Yet another example of Roman taking advantage of something useful for his own purposes: annoying you.

“You don’t mean that.”

You chuckled bitterly. “You sound so sure of yourself.”

“You’re staying with us for the next week. So what, are you just gonna hang around until it’s time to go? You really think I’m gonna let you do that?”

“Of course not. I’m not putting myself through that misery,” you said flatly, scrolling through your phone. “I’m looking up flights home now. The reception here sucks, so I’ll have to figure it out when we get there.”

“Um, yeah. No.”

You stopped scrolling, your posture stiff. “I’m sorry, what?” you asked, your eyes shifting back to the rearview mirror. He was looking out the window, shaking his head as he scrunched up his face. “Did you just say no?”

He turned back to meet your eyes in the mirror. There was an air of false calmness to him. He could usually talk himself out of anything, but this clearly caught him off guard. Did he seriously think you would never get tired of putting up with him? On second thought, you supposed he would be surprised by someone asserting themselves, and ultimately withdrawing from him. He was constantly doing terrible things, and his family and everyone around him just boiled it down to “well, that’s just the way he is.” Professional enablers, all of them. Even Kendall at times. “No” wasn’t something he got told a whole lot, unless it was coming from Logan. And given his position of power, you leaving must’ve seemed out of the question to him.

“We need to…I don’t know! Don’t we need to have a meeting about this first? Like an exit interview, or whatever the fuck? We have to sit down and schedule a little get-together before you do anything drastic. You have to submit a formal resignation.”

“Okay, I’ll just email you one.”

“No, a hard copy.”

“It’s not 1996.”

“Nope, I want a hard copy. It’s the least you can do, you overpaid little brat. And wouldn’t you know? Uh oh, you forgot to bring your printer in your carry-on. Silly you. Looks like you’re gonna have to put your plans on hold.”

“Roman,” you turned to look at him, the anger evident on your face. “I mean it. I’ll say it as many times as I need to. I quit.”

“Look, I get it. Okay? You’re tired, I’m tired and what I said earlier wasn’t exactly…fair. And stop looking at me like that. I don’t like it.”

You just stared at him. “Roman, you called me an H&M wearing plebeian.”

“No, that’s slander, okay? What you’re doing is illegal. Slander is illegal. I didn’t call you an H&M wearing plebeian. I called you a run of the mill, ladder climbing H&M wearing plebeian. And a coffee gopher.”

“Oh my god. I can’t.”

You turned away, rolling the back window up. Instead of pressing the button again, Roman stretched his neck so his face rose above it as it closed. “Okay, yeah. I said it, but I didn’t mean the run of the mill part! Seriously, I—”

A few minutes of silence passed before you spoke again, this time to the only other tolerable person in the vehicle.

“Is his mother like this, too?” you asked.

Doug smirked and laughed to himself. “Caroline? Well, she can also be very…persistent.”

For the final time, the window rolled down.

“Hey. You two aren’t talking shit about me up there, are you?”

☽

You couldn't catch a flight until tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

And so, you were stuck in what had once been your designated room. A nice room, a room bigger than your apartment, but you would be lying if you said this wasn't the last place you wanted to be. When you got out of the car, Roman waved you off dismissively before practically running away from you.

"Just sleep on it, 'kay?"

You would not be "sleeping on it." You were leaving tomorrow afternoon, come hell or high water.

In addition to this, all things considered, you weren’t exactly jazzed about Kendall strolling in there at 11:00pm. He walked in casually (after knocking, of course. He may have been a Roy, but he wasn’t a Roman) just as he would when you used to work for him. It had been a while since you had really spoken to Kendall. He would email and text you pretty regularly, however. He liked to “check in.” It was clear that he missed you, and even clearer that he pitied you.

“Hey you!” he called out. “Catch!” He tossed something at you, small and light. To your surprise, you actually managed to catch it.

A sober chip.

“Ninety days,” he said fondly. “I’ve been keeping up with my meetings. I know it’s not a huge deal, but I figured you would be proud.”

He was correct. You were proud. You used to really push him to go to his meetings. Frankly, you were a little afraid he wouldn’t keep up with them after you stopped working for him. He seemed to prefer AA over NA. He never mentioned why. Although alcohol was certainly an issue for him, his main drug of choice was cocaine. You had never thought to ask about it. It seemed too personal.

“That’s great, Ken!”

Your anxiety about what had been said about you and your former boss seemed to dissipate slightly when he told you the good news. It appeared that a hug was in order, at least from Kendall’s point of view. You stood there awkwardly as he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed.

“Wow, you’re a shitty hugger.”

You laughed nervously, tapping him on the back a few times in what was supposed to be some…platonic form of affection. You peered over his shoulder. The door was wide open. Although you didn’t see anyone—and likely wouldn’t, considering how late at night it was—you didn’t want to risk people seeing this.

Especially not you know who.

“So,” he said, pulling away and smoothing out his sweater. You felt the urge to roll your eyes. Black cashmere, not one wrinkle in sight. So very Kendall.

“How have you been?”

☽

Thank you all so much for reading/liking/reblogging/replying 🩵 It means a lot. Short chapter this time (since I uploaded three in one shot last time lol), longer chapter next time. Reader is in a tough spot here 🙃

@pearlstiare

#roman roy x reader #roman roy #succession

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ofstarsandvibranium · 6 months

Text

The Music In Me

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: You and the AFC Richmond team go to a karaoke bar to celebrate a win.

A/N: phil dunster, pls serenade me. i beg.

Your relationship with Jamie was fairly new. You were a photographer that Keeley hired to do some campaign shots of the team. Jamie made you laugh when it was time for his shots and the rest is history.

You two were definitely still in the honeymoon phase of the relationship. Something new and exciting. You thought being with a hotshot like Jamie would be difficult, with his fame and notoriety, but it wasn't. It was the complete opposite. He made things so easy. You enjoyed his company, he made you laugh, was considerate of your feelings. You felt seen and heard by him.

You were smitten and everyone can tell he felt the same.

"Cheers!" you holler with the Richmond boys, clinking your shot glasses and beers together. Jamie was the only one drinking water now, since Roy gave him a limit of two beers.

You down your shot and wince. Jamie snickers, "Strong?" he asks, offering you his water.

"Very," you gulp some of it down and hand it back to him, "Think I'm done for shots tonight."

Jamie nods, "Probably best. Don't want you completely plastered when we go up there," he points to the stage where Dani is getting ready to sing his song.

You look at him in surprise, "You signed us up?"

He nods, "Yup. I need everyone to know that me girl's got a voice of an angel."

You snort, "Think you're exaggerating a bit, babes, but it's fine. What song did you pick?"

He smirks at you, "You'll see."

_________________

You, Jamie, and the guys burst into hollers and whoops as Sam and Bumbercatch hop down from the stage after their rendition of "No Scrubs".

The emcee walks up and speaks into the mic, "Wow! That was surprisingly really well done. Anyway, next up we have," she pauses to look at the clipboard of names, "Jamie and Y/N!"

The boys are no cheering for you and Jamie as you stand and make your way to the stage. Jamie hops up first, offering his hand out to you to help you onto the platform.

You shyly smile at him as he guides you to one mic stand and he stands at the other. There's a a screen at the corner of the stage so you can see the words "Everything Has Changed by Taylor Swift ft. Ed Sheeran" appear.

You smile widely at Jamie and he gives you a wink. He knows you love to listen to Taylor Swift.

The acoustic guitar rang out from the speakers and the screen told you to get ready to sing in 3..2...1.

All I knew this morning when I woke Is I know something now, know something now I didn't before And all I've seen since 18 hours ago Is green eyes and freckles And your smile in the back of my mind making me feel like

You turn to Jamie smiling from ear to ear and he's looking at you like you hung up the stars in the sky.

I just wanna know you better Know you better, know you better now I just wanna know you better Know you better, know you better now

Jamie joins in and takes you a bit off guard,

I just wanna know you better Know you better, know you better now I just want to know you, know you, know you

The both of you go into the chorus and you stare at Jamie wide-eyed because you didn't know he sings so well. Sure you've heard him singing under his breath or humming, but never so loud and confident like this.

Then he goes into the next few lines and you just stare at him in awe. He moves closer to you, having you face him while he sings. He knows this song by heart because not once has he glanced at the screen as he serenades you. You're caught up in him that you forget to sing, jumping back into the chorus with him.

You two continue this song and dance. He twirls you around while singing with you and you do your best to keep up. Your heart and stomach are fluttering in the best way as he pulls you in as you both finish the last line of the song

All I know since yesterday Is everything has changed

The guys are absolutely losing their minds. It's clear none of them knew that Jamie could sing.

Jamie hops down from the stage, offering his hand again as you jump down as well. He kisses your temple and wraps and arm around your waist, guiding you back to the group while everyone applauds.

As you two reach them, the guys are patting you and Jamie on the shoulders.

"Bruv, how come you didn't tell us you can sing?!" Isaac asks in disbelief.

Jamie shrugs, "Not really important in football, is it?"

"Still. You got mad talent," Isaac says.

Dani chimes in, "A voice of an angel!"

You snort and nudge Jamie, "So much for showing me off. You took my spotlight," you say jokingly.

Jamie winces, "Sorry, babe."

You chuckle, shaking your head, "No, no it's fine. Really. I'm more upset at the fact you never sang around me like that before. You know you definitely have to sing more around me now, right?"

He grins at you, "Whatever you want, love," he kisses your cheek.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine

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vtoriacore · 9 months

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✧ never the first

note: wow i can't go long without writing for vil at all. i wanted him to suffer today, can't say i'm sorry when i'm still feeling petty BECAUSE HIS BDAY CARDS DIDNT COME THIS YEAR. anyways sorry vil, love you really but also suffer <3

synopsis: he viewed you as more than a friend, and it was tearing him apart from the inside; couldn't you see him as more?

reblogs much appreciated, mwah 💞💓

Envy, not an emotion Vil was used to feeling in regards to someone else. Sure, he could begrudgingly admit that he did feel searing jealously whenever Neige was up on stage start to finish, playing roles fitting for someone of his 'cute' and 'innocent' stature (industry's words, not his own) but envy? No, never envy. He was never envious of his one-sided rival, never had been and never will be. Which is something he'd thought up until now, thinking over how you talk to Neige so casually and without a care in the world as if you'd known him your entire life. Why did Neige get to have your attention like this, spoken to like a treasure, when you were so formal with Vil, as if he were just another commodity?

Always a 'good morning, Vil.' but never a 'morning hun!', always a 'goodbye' but never a 'see ya later dear!', always a 'how are you today?' but never an 'aww what's got you so down sweetie?' and always-

"Roi du Poison!" why couldn't you dote on him like that?

"There has been a little emergency back at the dorm, you see-" why didn't you gift him any of your endearing nicknames?

"We aren't sure if the potion is dangerous yet and the freshman-" why couldn't you see the longing in his eyes every time you were together?

"Roi du Poison! By the Seven, are you listening? Undoubtedly so, your thoughts are always deeply beautiful and assuredly just as important but this is no time to be occupied in this manner!"

Ah, how vexing. Or perhaps he should feel grateful at the fact Rook, the blabbering (not that he minded) man he is, came over to distract him from his thoughts? Not that it was working very well, because even now as he's being whisked away in order to deal with the fool who potentially contaminated the Pomefiore labs with a dangerous substance, all he can think about is that sweet smile you'd direct at Neige and how it contrasts with the formal one you always direct at him. Did he really intimidate you this much? Or did you not wish to pursue anything more than aquaintanceship with him? Even thinking the word stung, and he desperately wished it didn't.

"How did this mess happen?" he asked as he observed the unsightly scene, but didn't process it. Really, how could this mess have happened? How could he have gotten so deeply involved with you when you viewed him as nothing but a friend, or maybe even less?

"I- I'm sorry housewarden! It was an honest mistake- I added too much rosemary oil and-" and he never did think that you'd be anything more than a friend initially. So why? Why did he allow his heart to tear open at its seams when you aren't the one there to mend it, when you aren't the one to stitch the fragile felt, when you aren't the one to weave every thread of his love together into something you could both admire? Why couldn't you be the one?

"Take utmost precaution in the future. Come. I'll instruct you on how to properly dispose of the potion's residue with magic. Rook, please ensure no passing students are in the vicinity," he didn't allow his voice to tremble, despite the thrashing storm of emotions passing through him in waves, eroding at his steel, or perhaps iron with how fast it was crumbling, will. But he knew this endeavour was fruitless. It isn't like he could focus on anything but the raging thoughts, sharper than ever, ringing in his head; was he not enough for you? Did he lack something fundamental you were looking for? Could you not find anything within him to build something beautiful up?

"Thank you housewarden! I'll make sure to be more careful in the future," he didn't respond, not when his underclassman waited for a response and not when Rook came back to assess the situation, not when he himself couldn't even assess what it is he was missing that made you want Neige and not him.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #twst x yuu #twst x y/n #twst x reader angst #twst angst #twst vil x reader #twst vil

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king-magppi · 2 years

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Yellow Guy's Age

DHMIS Fandom, we need to talk about the infantilization of Yellow Guy. It's Papyrus from Undertale all over again😭😭 seriously. Anyways, I'm tired of seeing a GROWN MAN get depicted as a child by this fandom (I'm not talking about AUs or whatever, I'm talking about in casual fanart and the like). There is plenty of evidence from the show to support that Yellow Guy is, in fact, an adult, and I will list some out for you here:

In episode 1 (Jobs), Yellow Guy falls in love and marries Claire (the wrench person) in the span of the 40 years of working for Peterson's and Son's and Friends Bits and Parts Limited! This would be weird if Yellow Guy had met her as a child and grew up to marry her, wouldn't it? "But all that never even happened!" Yes, it did, because if we're using that logic, nothing from ANY of the other episodes happened because they always end up right back at home with no memory of the day prior regardless! Stay with me here!

In episode 3 (Family), Yellow Guy is seen as old enough by Todney and Lily to be forced into the role of the "Mother" and successfully order the Grolton's Chicken family tub. When the three get home, they proceed to try and open the packet of Chuddle Dollops again. During this scene, Red Guy refers to Yellow Guy as his "brother" rather than a son or any other family member.

In episode 4 (Friendship), it is revealed that Yellow Guy has a maiden name (it's "Rat Eyes" apparently), implying he has been married and/or divorced! Also, this next point might be a stretch which is why it isn't the main one for this bullet, but the first thing Yellow Guy wants to do when they finally get on the computer is "Do Gambling".

In episode 6 (Electricity), Lesley refers to Yellow as "NOT their real son". If they DO in fact happen to be his creator/parental figure, and Roy is his father, then that makes it very well possible that Yellow is at VERY LEAST in his late 20s-30s if Lesley is between 60-70 (the actress that plays Lesley, Vivienne Soan, is 67 years old, so it's safe to assume her character is supposed to be presented as around that age range). Another bit that might be a stretch is that after getting fresh batteries, Yellow Guy is able to do taxes, and even speaks more clearly and "mature" sounding.

Yellow is never referred to as a child by the others and is treated as an equal by all members of the household. They constantly pick on each other and even get in a fistfight at the end of episode 4.

Yellow Guy's voice is deep and does not SOUND like one of a child. If he were supposed to be one, wouldn't they give him a more "childish" voice?

And now I will debunk a few arguments I've seen used against people claiming Yellow Guy being an adult:

"But he dresses in overalls!"

Roy wears overalls too. Does this make him a child? Anyone can wear overalls.

"He's child sized! He MUST be a child!"

Actually, Duck/Green is the smallest one, and they're all puppets. They're gonna be pretty small compared to Red Guy. Also, height =/= age. Remember when the smallest in the house in the Family episode was revealed to be the father? Also, if we're going by height, why isn't Duck considered a child too then?

"He's too stupid/doesn't act like an adult."

We see in episode 6 that the reason he acts the way he does is because his batteries are dying. Also "stupidity" =/= age. Half the time Red Guy and Duck are just as dumb (if not more) than Yellow Guy in their actions So I really don't get why people use this one as an argument. It also feels a bit ableist to consider "not smart" people as children.

Wow. All of this even when I've fully disregarded the Pilot episode (I did this because some of you may consider it "not canon" because it was scrapped) and the webseries. I can't believe I even had to make this post, but it had to be done or else I'd lose my head! Thanks for reading if you made it this far!

#magppi meeps #dhmis #dont hug me im scared #dhmis yellow guy #dhmis manny #dhmis doi #what else do yall call him even #fluffybird #<< to get people to actually see this

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 4 months

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Baby Let the Games Begin

I'll Write Your Name Chapter 3

Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader

5.1k words

Warnings: Language, drinking, almost-nice moments ruined by Roy being Roy

Roy slouched in his chair and looked over the lineup, trying to focus his attention on Nate and Beard’s ideas after the previous night’s match. His mind kept wandering back to the club, to the lipstick stain he’d washed off his face when he got home way past his bedtime, to the way she’d danced too close to him, to the knowing looks the guys had been giving him all morning.

As his hand absently brushed over his cheek, Dani’s smile filled the doorway. Behind him, a few guys popped their heads in, looking far too eager for an early morning that followed a late night of drinking. “Good morning, Coach!” Dani chirped.

“Hmmph.” Roy nodded in acknowledgement. “Rojas.”

The striker strolled into the office casually, as if mischief wasn’t written all over his face as he eyed his coach. “Did you have a good time last night?”

Roy shrugged. “Fuckin’ guess,” he mumbled, slouching further into his chair. “You?”

“Everyone had a great time.” Dani’s smile grew as he pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket. “In fact, someone had such a great time, she asked if I could give you this.”

The little slip of paper contained numbers- numbers that were already in Roy’s phone, actually. It took Roy a moment to comprehend the looks of awe on his players’ faces and the excitement on Dani’s. Oh, fuck, right.

“Wow.” Roy lifted his eyebrows, giving his best surprised look. “Me? You’re fucking serious?”

Dani’s face softened. “She liked you,” he teased. “It was very obvious. She could not stop smiling after you danced together!”

Roy nodded, praying he looked thrilled enough to satisfy the guys. “Yeah, no, it was fucking cool.” He cleared his throat and stuffed the phone number into a desk drawer. “Guess I’ll give her a call or some shit-”

“Morning, fellas!”

Roy’s heart skipped a beat as he watched Keeley squeeze past the guys to enter the office, wearing a little dress and that big smile of hers, the one that could knock Roy over any day of the week.

“Don’t you lot have training to get ready for?” she teased. As the guys left, all shouting out their congratulations at Roy- as if he did something worth congratulating- she turned her attention to the gruff manager. “Can we chat when you have a second?”

Roy nodded stupidly. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He nodded to Dani, who was the last to leave. “Thanks again, Rojas. Really.”

Once Dani shot Roy an exaggerated wink and strolled back into the changing room, Keeley whipped out her mobile. “Excellent job last night, Coach.”

She perched on the desk and showed Roy her screen, which featured a photo of Roy and a certain pop princess on the dance floor, huddled close and smiling at each other. If Roy didn’t know any better, he’d think they looked like two people in the early stages of falling in love.

With a small cough into his closed fist, Roy nodded. “Yeah, well. Glad we did a good job or whatever.”

Keeley stuffed her mobile back into her pocket. “Seriously, you two look great together. I was scrolling through some of the comments, and her fans are already obsessing over you. They’ll be calling you ‘Dad’ by the end of the month.”

“Dad?” he repeated, practically spitting the word out. “Why the fuck would they call me Dad?”

“It’s a term of endearment,” Keeley explained with a playful eyeroll. “Sometimes they call her ‘Mum’, and if they like her boyfriend, they call him ‘Dad’. Trust me, you want them to call you that. It means you’ve got their approval. And once you’ve got the fans onboard, the good press will follow.” She gave Roy a friendly little punch, the small touch leaving his skin burning. “Keep up the good work, Roy-o.”

As he watched her leave, Roy sighed to himself. Dad? What the fuck had he signed himself up for?

“D’you want a beer?”

“Sure.” I handed April my credit card. “And bring me a hot dog or something?”

I had dragged April along to my second Richmond game, insisting that I needed someone to chat with while I was supposed to be fawning over Roy Kent. As I waited for her to return with the drinks and snacks, I tugged at the sleeves of the Richmond sweatshirt April had bought for me. This whole thing was weird, so damn weird. My siblings had texted me about the photos of me and Roy Kent at the club- which they had seen thanks to my baby brother’s Google alert on me- and had teased me about my sudden “interest” in soccer. Of course, I’d played coy and said I was just supporting Dani Rojas, that Kent and I had just danced a little, and that he seemed nice. Of course, they didn’t see the way I wrinkled my nose as I texted those things.

Suddenly missing them, I sent a selfie with the pitch behind me, joking that the Dog Track was my new home. As I hit the Send button on our group chat, rousing cheers informed me that the team was coming onto the pitch. I cheered along with everyone else, this time adding some other names to Dani’s, like Colin and Isaac. Jamie Tartt lit up when he saw me, blowing a playful kiss. I waved coolly, keeping an eye out for-

There was that smirk. Roy raised his eyebrows when he saw me, looking pleasantly surprised despite the fact that Keeley had made sure to tell him exactly where I’d be sitting. I leaned back in my seat and raised my hand in greeting, hoping my smile and wink were playful and, more importantly, caught on someone’s camera. Roy tapped two fingers to his temple, saluting me, before turning to his team. I had to give him credit for his acting; from my seat, he almost looked like he was blushing.

“You see your man?” April’s voice was full of teasing as she resumed her seat and handed me a beer.

I rolled my eyes and took a sip before taking the hot dog she offered me. “My man,” I scoffed. “He’s not my man.”

April raised her eyebrows at me. “Not yet,” she hummed quietly. She nudged me. “You two’ve got chemistry. Even at a distance, there was some sort of spark or lightning strike or whatever you want to call it when you looked at each other.” She leaned in close to whisper, “You sure there’s not a real attraction there?”

“Do I need a new assistant?” I hissed, narrowing my eyes at her. She knew I didn’t mean it; it was my way of telling her she had succeeded in getting under my skin, one of her favorite pastimes.

Sure enough, she chuckled and nudged me playfully. “I’m just saying,” she teased. “Believe me, you could do a lot worse.”

I snorted and stole one more glance at the scowling and shouting Roy Kent. “Wanna bet?”

Roy tapped the side of his beer as he stared at the entrance to Ola’s. The team had decided to grab some dinner together after their match, and Dani had invited his friend to join them. The guys were tittering and shooting him what he assumed were supposed to be sly looks, which he repaid with scowls and eyerolls.

Those sly looks only got worse when the door opened and Dani led two women inside. Roy watched as the Greyhounds tripped over each other to re-introduce themselves and ask how the women liked the match. She was pretty fucking affable, Roy noted as she complimented Cockburn on his game-winning goal and laughed at whatever joke Moe Bumbercatch made. He found himself wondering how someone like her, someone who smiled so easily and seemed to have no problem charming a room full of people, could wind up with a reputation like hers, known only for the men she ran around with and the drama her “friends” dragged her into.

Her eyes lit up when she spotted Roy in his huddled little corner, almost bright enough to fool him into believing she was happy to see him. She grabbed the other woman- who Roy now recognized has her personal assistant- by the hand and pulled her away from the Greyhounds, not stopping until she stood in front of Roy, all flirtation with those batting eyelashes and that coy smile.

“Great job today, Coach,” she said with a wink.

Roy leaned back, keenly aware of the eyes that had followed her to his table. “Guess I was right about you being good luck,” he hummed with what he hoped was a flirtatious grin. “Glad you came today.”

“Me too.” She tugged the other woman closer to her. “This is my assistant, April,” she introduced, as if Roy hadn’t met the woman in Keeley’s office that very first day. “April,” she murmured, eyes still on Roy, “this is Roy Kent.”

April smiled and reached out to shake Roy’s hand. “Lovely to meet you.” Her smile turned mischievous. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

A small giggle had Roy’s ears turning red. “Stop,” the popstar whined, sounding like a teenage girl. “Go find a soccer player to flirt with, alright?” She gave April a playful shove before sliding into the seat beside Roy. Her smile remained in place as she leaned in close, looking like she was flirting and murmuring soft enough for just him to hear. “You see the photos of us online?”

Roy cleared his throat and nodded, unable to look directly at her and instead choosing to stare at his beer. “Yeah. Yeah, I saw them.” He took a sip, desperate for something to keep him distracted from how fucking close she was sitting. “Looks like the plan’s working so far.”

Her little hmmph confirmed that she agreed with him. After a moment, she nudged him; Roy’s shoulder practically burned at the contact. “You should probably, I don’t fucking know, talk to me or something?” She raised her eyebrows. “We’re supposed to be into each other, remember?”

With one of his heaving sighs, Roy forced his shoulders to relax as he finally met her gaze, a gaze that was far too attentive. “You… enjoy the game?”

Fucking hell. Was this what the next six months of his life would be like? Awkward small talk with someone who was just as disinterested in him as he was in her? Being two fish in a bowl with eyes on them all the time? Tonight, at Ola’s, it was the Greyhounds; soon it would be all of Nelson Road, and all their friends and acquaintances, and the fucking paparazzi, and all the people who’d be attending her highly anticipated European tour in the summer. Not to mention the very real possibility that one of them could find someone they were actually interested in (Roy had seen the way Jamie eyed her when she walked in), and then they’d be in a whole new mess of ending the “relationship” and dealing with blurry timelines and drama.

While Roy’s mind raced, she nodded, all at ease. “I did, actually, even though I don’t watch soccer very much.” After wrinkling her nose, she paused, eyeing him carefully, as if debating her next words. “Think I could take a picture with you?”

“I’m sorry?” Roy choked out, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the sudden request.

“A picture,” she repeated slowly, a smidge of impatience dripping from her voice. “Like a selfie. I might not like soccer, but my brothers and nephews are big fans.” She took out her phone and laid it on the table. “And I learned recently that you, Roy Kent, are a pretty big fucking deal. So, if I send them a picture with you, I’ll finally be the world’s coolest sister and tía.”

Roy couldn’t help the snort that flew out of his nose. “Being one of the biggest popstars in the fucking world isn’t enough?”

She cracked a small smile. “Nope. To my brothers, I’m still just the little princess who always cried to get what she wanted.” She picked her phone back up. “So, are we taking a selfie, or do I need to get the waterworks going?”

That was… well, that was kind of funny, Roy decided. Funny enough that he didn’t argue with her, at least. Instead, he shrugged and leaned in close, reminding himself that he was supposed to look like he was interested in this woman, after all. “Take the fucking picture then,” he grumbled, mostly good-naturedly.

Almost as if she understood that this was as friendly a response as Roy Kent could give, she opened her camera. Roy was amused at the image on the screen; she had a nice smile, he admitted to himself. It was the same one he saw on album covers, the same one she offered the Greyhounds, the same one she flashed the paparazzi. Just cheesy enough to be endearing, while still holding something glamorous. Looking at the image of that smile, Roy didn’t have much choice but to give his own closed grin, coming out cool and cocky-looking, the way one would expect a retired athlete to smile with a beautiful popstar.

She quickly snapped a couple of pictures before lowering her phone, chuckling as she sent one to what Roy assumed was a family group chat. “Thanks,” she murmured, giving Roy a nod. “Like I said, they’re finally almost impressed with me.”

The gears in Roy’s head turned for a moment. “Could you send me that?” he heard himself ask. When she tilted her head at him, he cleared his throat. “My niece, she’s… a fan. And if I show her that picture, she’s going to absolutely lose her shit.”

“Anything to make a kid lose their shit.” She quickly tapped away on her mobile; Roy’s own phone buzzed a moment later. “She your only niece?” When Roy only stared at her blankly, she shrugged. “Might as well learn some shit about each other, if we’re going to be dating.”

“Right,” Roy breathed, again noting how fucking close she was sitting. “Yeah, she’s my only niece. It’s just me, my sister, and her.” After a moment, he realized she was waiting for him to ask her a question. “And you’ve got… brothers?”

She nodded, relaxing into her seat, shoulder grazing Roy’s arm. “Four brothers and a sister,” she added. “I’ve got one younger brother, everyone else is older. And I’ve got…” She counted on her fingers for a moment. “Eight nieces and nephews. My oldest niece just turned fifteen this year. We’re having her quinceañera this summer.”

“That’s the big fucking party, right? I remember Dani going back to Mexico for his cousin’s birthday, it looked like a fucking wedding.”

Her raised eyebrows looked almost impressed. “Yeah. I’m pretty excited to go home for it.” She paused, thoughtfulness crossing her face. “We’ll probably still be together,” she murmured. Her eyes were unreadable.

“Keeley’ll probably make me go then,” Roy grumbled. “Fucking hate flying all the way to the States.”

“And we’ll have to go to all the way to Los Angeles,” she added with a dry chuckle. “Eleven hours stuck on a plane together, there and back. Can you imagine anything worse?”

Roy’s eyes flittered across the restaurant to Keeley, who sat cozily with Rebecca, giggling and chattering. His chest ached, reminding him that, if Keeley asked, he’d spend twenty-four hours on a plane with this woman, no hesitation. He’d do fucking anything for Keeley.

With a sigh, he shook his head. “No,” he agreed. “I fucking can’t.”

“Crown and Anchor,” I mumbled to myself as I read the sign over the pub Roy had suggested we meet at. Keeley has urged us to go ahead with our first “public outing”; she’d left it up to us, but suggested something low-key enough to look real, as if we weren’t trying to catch people’s attention. After I offered to let him pick the spot, Roy had texted me the address of some pub not too far from the stadium; apparently, he’d be coming straight from work.

Sure enough, when I found him at the bar, he was wearing what I assumed was his ‘coaching uniform’: Greyhounds shirt, track pants that hugged his thighs, and sneakers. He nodded when he saw me, hand wrapped around the beer he was already half finished with.

Ignoring the stares of a small group seated at a table behind Roy, I leaned into Roy, relieved that he immediately wrapped me in a one-armed hug- a casual, friendly gesture, perfect for two people just starting a romance. He took my arm to help me onto the stool beside him and gestured to the barkeep, an older woman who eyed me carefully.

“You’re-” She stopped, raising her eyebrows at Roy. “Good for you, Roy Kent.” She leaned on the counter, offering a friendly smile. “What can I get you, love?”

I eyed Roy’s half-finished drink. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

With a smile, the barkeep quickly poured me my own beer and placed it in front of me. Roy absently tapped his glass to mine with a small clink! before taking a long drink.

“Tough day of training?” I teased before sipping my own glass; shit, would I ever get used to drinking beer that wasn’t ice-cold?

He shrugged, eyes focused on the amber liquid in his glass. “Long is more like it,” he grumbled. “Especially now that the idiots are smirking and winking at me all the time, giving me looks like they fucking know something.” Roy narrowed his eyes at me, almost playfully. “It’s all your fault, you know.”

“My apologies,” I huffed, trying not to laugh at his stony expression. My eyes landed on the darts on one end of the bar; Roy’s gaze followed.

“Want to play?” he asked, chugging the last of his beer and motioning for the barkeep to pour him another one. “Keeley said shit like playing games looks cute in photos.”

The word cute did not seem like one that should be coming out of Roy Kent’s mouth, but I ignored how humorous it sounded. “I don’t know how to play,” I admitted. “We used to have a dart board when I was a kid, but after my brother got hit in the arm, my mom made my dad take it down.”

Roy stared at me for a moment, studying me. “I could teach you.” He shrugged. “If you like.”

I glanced at the dart board. “Why the fuck not?”

With a hmmph, Roy grabbed our beers and led me over to the game, setting our drinks on a nearby table before grabbing the darts. He handed me one, careful not to let our fingers brush. ��Go on,” he said, nodding to the dart board. “Want to see what I’m fucking working with.”

I stared at the dart in my hand, wincing at the embarrassment I was about to endure and preparing myself for the expletives and mockery that would surely come out of Roy Kent’s mouth. Finally, trying to reach back over twenty years in my memory to the last time I had thrown a dart, I reached back and gave what I hoped was an acceptable toss; I groaned when I saw the dart bounce off the wall far from the target and fall pathetically to the ground.

Roy retrieved the dart wordlessly and returned, mouth in a straight line as he stared at me harshly. “You’re the one that fucking hit your brother, aren’t you?”

Setting my face as expressionless as his, I folded my arms. “No comment.”

A smirk almost broke through. “Your publicist has you well-trained,” he quipped as he handed me the dart. “Better show you how it’s done before you fucking kill someone.” His eyes zeroed in on the dart in my hand for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Here, stand like this.”

Roy stood next to me, motioning for me to adjust my feet. After I mirrored his stance, he turned to stand behind me, hesitating before taking my hand, the one I held the dart in. When I turned my face to his, he was gazing at me with raised eyebrows.

“This alright?” he whispered.

I nodded, holding back the urge to gulp. “Anything for the cameras,” I joked, forcing my body to relax against his. “Get ready to trend on Twitter, Kent.”

With a hmmph, Roy pressed his chest to my back, his body warm and weirdly comfortable, and lifted my hand. “And you pull back like this,” he breathed. “And…” He moved my arm in a swift motion. “… Release.”

The dart hit the board only about an inch away from the dead center.

“Holy shit!” I squeaked, pretending I didn’t see the young couple in the corner of the pub pointing their phones in our direction. “Roy!” I jumped into his arms, acting as though learning to throw a dart was some lifelong dream.

“What the fuck are you-”

“In the corner,” I hissed in his ear. “They’re recording us. Act cute.”

Grunting, Roy wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug that lifted me off my feet, keeping his hands on my hips once he set me down. “Think you could do it on your own now?” He furrowed his brows and lowered his voice. “Or should we do that again?”

I thought for a moment. “Probably one more time,” I said quietly. “For the camera.”

“For the camera,” Roy agreed, letting me go so he could grab another dart to hand to me. “Right, so stand like before…”

Once again, his chest felt warm pressed against me, his heartbeat thumping against my back. When he took my hand in his, I observed how large his hand looked around mine, realizing I’d be holding it a lot in the coming weeks. Just like before, Roy pulled my hand back and guided it, instructing me when to let go. This time, my dart landed dead center.

In spite of myself, I turned to Roy with a giant grin. “Fucking bullseye, Kent!”

He wore a crooked smirk and held up his hand for a high-five. “Not bad,” he hummed as I slapped his palm. “Ready to try it on your own?”

Playing darts with Roy Kent wasn’t the worst way to spend an evening, I conceded. We sipped beer and took turns throwing darts, with Roy giving me pointers now that I was throwing on my own; he even admitted that I was a quick learner. In between throws, we’d glance up at the television playing soccer highlights; Roy mumbled about the men running around on the screen, telling me a bit about the players he knew, the ones he tolerated and the ones he hated. I listened carefully, realizing that, if I was going to be “dating” a soccer legend, I should know a thing or two about the game. I should also try to start calling it “football”, I thought to myself.

“Alright,” I declared after posting a photo to my Instagram, per Keeley's instructions. “I’m going to the restroom, when I get back, we play to see who’s paying the tab.”

It was the closest thing I’d seen to a full smile all night. “You’re fucking on. And I’m ordering another pint, because you’re paying.”

I rolled my eyes playfully and waved as I headed towards the restrooms. Shit, I thought to myself. I’m actually enjoying myself.

As I washed my hands before returning to the bar, I tilted my head at my reflection. Tonight was kind of fun, I admitted. Maybe, just maybe, Roy Kent and I could actually be friends. Maybe these next few months of fake-dating didn’t have to be complete torture. Maybe we’d have a good time hanging out and spending time together. Maybe-

Despite all my grumblings about this plan, I grinned at Roy as I approached him at the dartboard, where he leaned against the wall and frowned at his phone. When he didn’t look up, I cleared my throat.

“Ready to lose?” I teased.

Finally, Roy looked up at me. “Hmm?” After a moment, he shook his head and downed the rest of his beer. “I should head home,” he grumbled, slamming his glass onto the table. “Got fucking training in the morning. Early morning training with fucking Tartt.”

I glanced at my watch. “It’s only sev-”

“I said I should head home,” he repeated, wrinkling his nose. “Already paid the tab.” Without another word, he placed his hand on my lower back and steered me out of the pub, pausing only to offer a half-hearted wave to the barkeep, who smiled warmly at us on our way out the door.

“What the fuck, Kent?” I hissed as we stood on the curb in front of a giant black car. “Did something happen? I thought-”

The man growled and fished a set of keys out of his pocket. “I’m fucking old,” he muttered. “I have a bedtime on worknights. Get used to it.” He nodded to the monstrous vehicle behind him. “D’you need a ride home?”

Resisting the urge to fold my arms across my chest defiantly, I shook my head. “I can walk,” I mumbled. “Or call a car if I get sick of walking.”

“Fine.”

It felt like hours as we stared at each other, Roy’s lips parted as if he were about to speak. Finally, I nodded curtly, trying to keep my own expression relaxed, as if the man hadn’t just done a complete 180 in the time it took me to use the restroom.

“I’m going to kiss your cheek,” I whispered as I took a tiny step towards him. “Since this was a date and all.”

“Fine,” he repeated, leaning towards me.

Just like at the club, my lips brushed against his warm cheek, his beard tickling my face. I flashed him my best smile, the one I usually saved for men I actually liked.

“Goodnight, Kent,” I managed, taking a step back.

He nodded brusquely, not quite meeting my eye. “Goodnight.”

With that, he climbed into his car and drove off, leaving me on the curb with a few questions and a long walk home.

Roy stared at his phone as he walked into the Dog Track, as if he thought that doing so would change the Tweet that had distracted him the night before. While waiting for his “date” to return from the loo, he’d scrolled aimlessly on the app, looking for anything interesting in football news. When he saw the post with two names he knew all too well, his stomach had dropped.

He and Jamie Tartt didn’t have any sort of agreement, per se. But they both seemed to respect each other’s feelings for Keeley ever since the night they showed up on her porch and were properly scolded. The three of them had formed a close friendship, one that seemed to center mostly around doting on Phoebe and avoiding any mentions of dating and romance. Sure, Roy knew that Keeley and Jamie hung out sometimes, just like Jamie knew Roy and Keeley did the same. But seeing it online, linked with the idea of the two getting back together, had Roy gritting his teeth as he entered the already chatty changing room.

Despite knowing this conversation was better suited for a pub with some beers than their place of work- where Roy was Jamie’s boss- Roy made his way over to Jamie, who looked up at the manager with something close to awkwardness on his pretty face.

“Mornin’, Coach,” Jamie hummed.

Roy had cancelled their training that morning; Jamie was smart enough to know why.

“You two back together?” Roy’s voice was low and even. It scared Jamie and the eavesdropping Greyounds more than any shouting and swearing would.

Jamie furrowed his brows and shook his head gingerly. “’Course not.” He nodded to Roy’s phone, its screen opened to a photo of the two exes sharing a dessert. “Just friends, Coach. She had some brand deal she thought I’d be interested in, I was hungry, so we grabbed a bite. I promise, I’d tell ya if anything was going to happen.” He paused, pouting a little. “Besides, you’ve moved on, haven’t ya? Saw some photos of you two playing darts and shit.”

Oh. Fuck. Roy shrugged, praying his face was relaxed. “We’re friends,” he mumbled. “Fucking getting to know each other. That’s all.”

“In that case-” Jamie’s bravado returned, reminding Roy of the arrogant prick he’d met when Jamie first came to Richmond. His eyes were bright with teasing, and he did that stupid tongue flick that made Roy want to puke. “Put in a good word for me, yeah?”

Roy couldn’t help scoffing, telling himself it had everything to do with Jamie and nothing to do with the topic at hand. “Why the fuck d’you think she’d be interested in you?”

Tartt’s smirk widened as he winked at his obviously spying teammates. “She said it herself, didn’t she? That boyish look that I like in a man?” He gestured at his own face. “Beautiful and boyish, right here.”

Before Roy could even think, he bared his teeth at the striker, not aware of the way his fists were clenched at his sides. “Maybe she’s done with boys,” he all but spat. “Maybe she wants a real man.”

Jamie threw his hands up in surrender, eyes widening as he took in Roy’s reddening face. “Oi, Coach,” he chuckled, clearly trying to ease the tension. “I was just teasing. If you like the girl, just say so. You don’t have to go all caveman on me.”

All eyes in the changing room were on Roy, who took a step back; he hadn’t realized he was practically nose to nose with Tartt. He gave a little nod, not quite meeting the striker’s eye. “Right,” was all he could manage.

Satisfied that he had escaped another love triangle, Jamie gave Roy’s arm a friendly punch. “Now, next time you see her, could you ask about that assistant of hers? What was her name? May? April? She was fucking fit.”

Roy blinked at Jamie, barely registering what he’d just said. Instead, he sulked into his office, wondering where the fuck that little snap had come from. Probably still thinking about Jamie’s dinner with Keeley, he reasoned. That must be it. It had everything to do with Keeley and nothing to do with Jamie- or anyone else, for that matter.

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#roy kent i'll write your name #roy kent iwyn #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent imagine #ted lasso fanfiction

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vclvetfleur · 11 months

Text

Obedient Chapter 2

roman roy x fem! reader

Summary: After a week of getting the job you seemed to finally get a hold of Roman and his weird humor. You were finally proving yourself to him.

Warnings: Implied drug abuse, dark jokes, degradation

Word Count: 3.8k

Notes: Okay Chapter 2! I do want to warn that (not in this chapter) but later on there will be a reveal of a tragic backstory. Not that y/n is like Roman, but traumatized as well. Theres also going to be some kind of fluff in this one. I am trying to make this a slow burn, but it's so hard. ANYWAYS Soooooo I hope you enjooooy.

Chapter 2: Costa Azzurra Eau de Parfum

You left the office completely stunned. I guess that’s how everyone felt after first meeting Roman. Meeting him was definitely something no one could prep you for. But hey, I guess you finally have a job now. Before you could collect your thoughts, you saw Jess heading your way. “So? What happened? Oh my god, what’d he say?” She spoke quickly, expecting the worst from Roman. Every time she’s been around him wasn’t the best. He was arrogant, disgusting, selfish, rude, well Roman.

“I got the job.” You tried to collect your thoughts. You spent so much time prepping and getting ready for this. You thought at the very least this would be a bit more professional. You didn’t think you’d get berated for 3 minutes. You were at least expecting to even get asked your credentials. If you even made sense for the job. But I guess the Roy’s had enough money to keep everyone quiet and inline. They didn’t need to be too careful.

“You did?” She blinked quickly, looking at Roman then you. Roman spotted her stares and snickered and wiggled his fingers in a way to say hi.

All you could do is nod. “I did.” You finally broke out of your thoughts and started to laugh. You finally were going to see what it was like on the other side. No more struggling or worrying. You could finally pay off your student debt and other debt you’ve unfortunately had to be left with. “Uhh Roman said I needed to speak to you about getting all my stuff organized and all that.” Jess nodded before walking you through what the next steps were.

Before she could even start, Kendall needed her. “uh-Jess, I need you to help me out with a situation right now, Uh- “He started before looking down at you. “What happened? Aren’t you- wait did he just waste our time or-?” He began to question. He seemed stressed. Like he was in a panic for something. Gosh, what a wreck. He was practically sweating an entire fountain. He looked pale. You recognized what it was. Roman hinted at it. Rehab. But it didn’t seem like he quit a while ago. It looked like he really needed his fix. And soon.

“I’m just getting y/n organized, Roman said- “She started to explain before getting cut off by Kendall. I guess they just did that sort of thing. God, how pretentious.

“You don’t work for Roman, do you? No. Now uh-y/n just tell Roman to get someone else to do it. Uh- yea, anyways, I need you…” He quickly snapped before walking away with Jess. You barely made out what he was saying as he left you behind. You were on your own now. You decided to take a breather before having to endure what was Roman Roy once again. Once you composed yourself you turned around, fixed your suit before walking back to his office where he was slouching at his desk, staring at the screen. His head shot quickly up to you as soon as he heard the door, but relaxed once he saw it was you and ignored you for his screen again. “Did you lose your little buddy or something” he teased.

“Uh- no. Kendall told me to get you to help me out instead. Cause, and I quote, ‘she doesn’t work for Roman’” You tried to catch him up. Roman let out an amused sigh as he shook his head. “Wow my brother really does have a way with words. The PC king strikes back again with his stupid fucking union bullshit or whatever. Uh yeah okay, well I don’t know how to do that shit.” His eyes finally leaving his screen to look at you. But not really at you. He really made such intense eye contact. I guess you had to when your dad is the CEO and you might, which I really doubt Roman ever would, become CEO one day.

“Okay, so do I just- “You question pointing your thumbs to the door to go look for someone to do what Roman should be doing for you. “No no, uh just sit down, let me annoy Gerri. Fuck what’s the point of assistant it’s like having a hamster or something” He huffed in annoyance before spamming Gerri with messages to come to his office. He made every attempt to finally get her attention.

You watched an older blonde woman storm into his office, clearly not in a mood to be dealing with him and his issues, which she seems to have been doing for a bit. “What do you want now Roman?” She sighed.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind if you striped naked and y’know call me whatever name you have in your head right now” He implied before seeing her give up with him and nearly leaving. “wait-wait- okay sorry. Uh Kendall got me a new toy and I need her to fill some shit out. You know legal bullshit.”

You just couldn’t believe he could talk to her like that. Nonetheless she seemed like she wasn’t completely livid. She didn’t even tell him off. You looked up at her before standing up and putting your hand out. “Hi, y/n” You smiled. Gerri gave you a smile that gave you the feeling of a disappointed parent, you’ve seen that look before. “Hi, just follow me and I’ll get you set up. Romans to incompetent to even find where half of his emails are.” She tried to rationalize with you before leading you out of his office. You just followed and sat down in a small conference room with her. “So, what do you do?” You asked before sitting down. She had her back turned to you as she was gathering all the paperwork from the filing cabinets. They had people coming in and out, so they had them ready. But Gerri was right, Roman was incompetent. “I’m the companies General Counsel, uh I basically just make sure they don’t ruin the company with legal stuff” She tried to explain. You nodded silently before taking the papers from her. You decided to read some of it over. You couldn’t believe what was in some of it. For starters I had to be on the clock and at Roman’s disposal 24/7. I had to basically play as this grown man’s mother. The NDA was worse. Nothing that happened or was said could ever leave my mouth or fingers if I were to type it out. I couldn’t tell anything to anyone. Maybe that’s why Jess was so quiet on how Kendall was and what was actually going on. But regardless, you signed. Once you saw what your salary would be, you signed immediately. It was basically making a deal with the devil himself. You practically sold your soul. But who wouldn’t for that kind of money. Once you finished giving off your information, Gerri picked them up and left a hand on your shoulder. “Good luck dear, just one rule I have for you, just don’t pay any of them any mind.” She warned before leaving.

You watched as she walked off, her heels clacking out of the room and leaving you alone. You stood up before finally exiting the room yourself.

You got up before going back to Roman for the day before seeing him grabbing his things on his way to leave. “Where are you going?” You asked. You hadn’t even been here an hour and he was leaving. “An orgy.” He joked before leaving the office. “Give me your phone quickly.” You tried to protest before he snatched it out of your pocket from your suit jacket. “What’s the passcode?” You reached back before he moved it away from you. “Nuh-uh. I need to give you my number if you’re gonna get paid. I do it with all my paid hookers.”

“I’m not a hooker. Or a pet. So, stop comparing me to that.” You stood your ground finally. You weren’t use to keeping your mouth shut. You never really even kept quiet this long. “Yea sure you’re not. That’s what the last Guinee pig hooker I hired said.” He said before using your face to finally unlock your phone. You reached out again before having him smack your hand out of the way. “Ow!” You cried out, holding your wrist.

“Boo fucking hoo, cry me a river, snowflake.” He seemed to try to correct you. You watched him intensely as he seemed to be on your phone forever now. “Oh what, you scared I’m gonna find some sex tape on this? You know it isn’t really smart to keep that on here. With the cloud and whatever the fuck those perverts do. Me, on the other hand, don’t care. You can watch all you want.” He shot you a wink. You reeled back. He wasn’t a good flirt. If this is what he called flirting. It was disgusting. He was basically a walking PR nightmare packaged in a small insecure man’s body. He tossed your phone up in the air before you could even process what happened. You frantically jolted and tried to grab it, thankfully grabbing it before it had fallen on the floor. “Done, I texted myself. I’ll text you what I need after my crazy insane BDSM orgy.” He laughed before hitting the L button. The elevators shut and he was finally gone. I guess it was time to go home too. You decided today was enough. This had been completely overly stimulating for you. It was definitely an intense day. You went home and laid down on your bed. Before you could even cut your eyes, your phone began to buzz. You opened it to see a few texts from Roman. He put his name in your phone to ‘sexy new boss’. What a prick? You’ve never met someone who was so into himself.

‘helloooooooo’

‘it’s me, your new fuckable boss’.

‘you cant use that against me in court by the way.’

‘hellooooooo I said its me’

‘i’ll send a bomb to your house if you don’t respond to me’

‘okay fine. done. just sent one. now I need a new assistant’

‘ok ok im joking’

You read them as they came one after the other. Wow what a deranged little man. You swiped the messages open and finally replied to him.

‘What do you need?’ you sent.

‘ooo wow so profess. just checking to see if you quit’

‘im kidding again. just checking in on you’

You shook your head before replying to him again with a simple thank you and shutting your phone off again.

This is how it was for nearly a week. You would get ready for work as early as 7:30 am, just to be sent home early because Roman refused to even be there. And when he was, he was basically just making disgusting and deranged comments towards you or whoever the fuck was in the room. But that you can handle. Just an annoyance at this point. He did text you constantly. He seemed lonely. Like he didn’t even have anyone to really talk to. He spent most of his day or even night trying to get you to reply to him. He would send you text after text after text. He assumed because Kendall always texted Jess that was the reason, they were close enough for him to trust her. But he couldn’t break that barrier with you. He didn’t know what he could do to get you to even give him any kind of attention. You barely flinched at his jokes, at least you didn’t show it and you were social with everyone else. He didn’t understand his need for his attention from you. But he got some kind from everyone so easily. He wanted whatever he couldn’t have. The only kind of reaction you would give him was quiet. You barely even made fun of him back.

You headed to the office later than usual, realizing that you were mostly wasting your time just showing up at 9 am. You were gonna be waiting on Roman for at least 2 hours for him to even get here. He probably had been sleeping in til 12 pm sometimes. You don’t know how Logan hadn’t fired him already. Even if he was his own son. You walked into the building at 11, knowing this was the earliest Roman would even get here. You stepped out of the elevator to see Roman in his office. You walked in before knocking on the door to let him know you were here.

“You’re late.” He sang as he pulled away from his computer. He laughed to himself, looking up at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect you to be at the office yet.” You explained before setting down your latte that you got before work. You sat down and pulled out your tablet to review what was next for Roman to slack off on.

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be here. Aren’t you a little slacker? Do I have to look back at your references and experience on that resume of yours?” He sat up, laying his hands on the desk. He was always so amused to annoy you.

“You never looked at my resume, remember? You thought it was a waste of our time.” You remined.

“Yea yea but what do I know? I’m just an attractive billionaire about to be crowned COO.” He shrugged. You didn’t know if he was insulting you and your education or if he was being genuine.

“Crowned? Do you think you’re getting a coronation or something?” You finally fired back at him. “That’s not how that works.” “Yeah I don’t know what the shit is, but regardless, now that you said it, I want it.” He raised his chin up like a little schoolboy. He seemed so proud of his stupid joke. He always did. He really did think he was extremely hilarious. Even if no one laughed at his own jokes, he did. It was the only thing he ever really liked about himself. I mean, he partly hated it because it made people not like him that much, but he knew he didn’t have much to ever offer people. Laughing was the only thing he could do to keep people around him happy enough with him. Or else he’d be just another substance abuser like Kendall or a prick like Shiv or even worse, boring like Connor.

“Yea, let me get my measuring tape out for the dick measuring contest then.” You finally learned to play along. You didn’t want to argue and fight with yourself to keep quiet. You thought it only made your day more stressful. You expected something bad from Roman for talking like that, but you looked up to only see him actually laughing at your throw back. You hid a smile as you looked back down at your tablet. Even though you didn’t like to admit it too, your humor was also the only thing you liked about yourself. You didn’t like to be alone either. It was too much to be alone with all your own thoughts too. You also didn’t like the silence. You craved hearing people talking about other than your own issues or weird ticks. It was good to get the attention not on you all the time, unless you wanted it.

“It’s a good 9 inches, alright? I should know I put my dick up against almost every guy I’ve met.” He lied so easily. It was only cause he knew no one would actually believe him.

“Even your dads?” You tried to hit a nerve. This was starting to seem like some kind of fun to you. It was so easy to make fun of him back because he really didn’t care what people even said to him.

“Ew no you pervert. You wish though.” That was probably the first time he said it to someone else rather than being called that. Unless it was Moe or Karl. One of those weird fucks from the board. His dad was tied in with a lot of sketchy guys in all honesty. “Besides, I could whip it out if you’d like to see that badly.”

You shook your head, outing your hand up in protest. “Nope, I’m good. Don’t worry. Anyways you have to do your work.” You said before getting up to go over to him to show him what was due today. He wasn’t gonna do them, but you felt safe enough that Roman wouldn’t grope you. You leaned down to his level, him sitting up to reach up to you, showing him the tablet of the upcoming projects.

Your bodies were barely an inch away from each other that you could even smell the weird pervy cologne he had on. It was a weird kind of nice. You kind of liked it, but you couldn’t pinpoint what you liked about it. Maybe like when you can’t stop tasting or smelling something that smells kind of off just because of curiosity. Regardless, it smelt like Roman just went to a perfume shop and picked the most expensive and ridiculous looking bottle he could even find.

You felt his eyes on you as you spoke, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as you imagined. “Pay attention.” You redirected him, but he didn’t stray his longing looks away. He tried to get a read on you. You were so unwilling to let him see you crack or even show any kind of frustration. Not that he wanted to, but everyone did at this point. Or at least people expressed so after meeting him for a bit. You continued on and on before stopping to look his way, finding your face almost against his. Your faces were so close to one another you bumped your nose against his. You pulled back a bit as you tried to readjust how you were standing by him. You finally realized Roman was a lot softer than you initially thought. He was an asshole, sure. But he was kind of endearing to you. Something made you drawn to him. Maybe it was the way he tried to get a laugh all the time or that you finally realized his eyes were brown. Or maybe that he wasn’t as harsh looking as you thought. He looked grosser when you first glanced at him, but up close you were finally taking in all of his features. His weird little quirks that made him look so strange actually made sense on his face. You even noticed he was kind of smiling at you. You turned back to the tablet and pushed his chin to face it as well. “Come on now. Do I need to play Bluey or Coco Melon for you?”

“I don’t know what the fuck that is, but if they’re names of porn stars, then yes.” He laid his arm on the desk, putting his hand up to his head to hold it, positioning to look right back at you.

“Doesn’t your brother have kids? Don’t they watch kid shows? Or are you not allowed within a 200 feet radius of children?” You were trying not to get frustrated with him on his tasks of the day. You spent everyday making these notes for him to never even do them. “You really think Kendall takes care of them? Fuck no. He’s too busy doing blow in some undergrown New York club to watch them. My dad really led by example.” Roman confessed something he shouldn’t have, but he was hoping you’d find it all a joke like all of his weird comments. You blinked to understand all the trauma that was dumped in front of you. “Wow. Okay.” Was the only words that could attempt to even leave your mouth. You tried to shake that brand new information off. “Ah yeah, Kendall is a fake snowflake wannabe. He acts like he’s read Karl Marx and that he even gives a fuck.” Roman really tried to keep this impression of hating Kendall. Not that you understood what their relationship even was, but it was confusing to way the very least. They constantly seemed to be annoyed with one another, but you’ve seen other articles and pictures of them where they looked like your average billionaire happy family. You hated to say, but you really enjoyed the insider details of whatever fucked up dynamic this was. “Alright start your speech again, I wasn’t listening.” He seemed actually serious this time. You nodded and just went back to the top of your notes. Roman just wanted to move this topic as quick. He shared too much. He shouldn’t have, but who else could he talk shit about his brother with? Everyone he knew adored Ken except Shiv, but right now she was annoyed at him for whatever reason she came up with now. All because he insinuated that Shiv was with Tom only for comfort and not cause she actually loved him. But whatever, she was being a bitch.

He seemed to actually listen to you, was he actually going to do any of that? Fuck no, but it was an excuse to move the conversation. And just to hear you talk again. You really were smart. You actually did know what the fuck you were talking about and not just playing some kind of role. Maybe with the outfit and hair, but still, you seemed smart enough to know what you even said.

You spent the entire day with Roman before he started to get ready to leave early again. Which was your cue to also get ready to leave. “Oh uh- by the way, there’s a party tonight, I need you on the clock for that. I’ll send over some actually clothes to your place. Not anything from a fucking sweat shop. My driver will get you.” He said as quickly he could before walking off. You never had any time to react to Roman. He was way too fast for you to even fully comprehend anything that left his mouth. It was always so much.

But wow okay. A rich person party. This was new. Not an exciting new. More of an anxious new. Like going to a new school for the first time kind of new. If you looked any kind of wrong, you knew you’d be shunned or even made fun of in there. It didn’t take long for these people to start to laugh or mock people in this office, you could only imagine what it could be like at a party with billionaires like the Roy’s.

Notes: Next chapter is up!

Chapter 3

#succession #succession hbo #roman roy x reader #roman roy fanfic #roman roy x you #roman roy #kendall roy #shiv roy #tom wambsgans #succession fanfic #hbo succession #siobhan roy #hbo original #hbo series #hbo max #greg hirsch #cousin greg #connor roy

196 notes · View notes

daydreamgoddess14 · 10 months

Text

Support System pt. 9

Roy Kent x Reader - domestic fluff and hints of further spice to come 😍

CH1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7 | CH 8

MASTERLIST

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You're enjoying the hottest shower you can bear and also not looking forward to going back to your poor water pressure trickle when he taps on the door.

"Why you knocking?" You laugh over the pounding water.

"Don't want to catch you doing something you don't want me to know about, " he says with a wink. You turn the shower off and step into the towel he's holding out. "Your phones been going mad, I hope you don't mind but I wanted to check it wasn't Lexie?"

"Thank you, course I don't." You take the phone and look through the notifications. "Lots from your sister, she's seen the red carpet pictures… shit, the pictures!" You keep scrolling, reaching with your other hand to hold onto his t-shirt. He takes you hand and kisses the palm. "Ah. Here we go." You hold it up to show him. A slew of messages and missed calls from Andy.

"Fuck. What a knob. Come on, I've made tea. Do you want to read them while I get angry or the other way around?"

"Ooh we can switch and both get angry."

"Can't do that, you look really hot when you're mad and we haven't got enough time for that."

"Uhh you need talk? Jamie asked me last night if permanent concussion was a thing from all the times you've headbutted him." He holds his hands up, backing out the door.

"I deny everything." He leaves you to pull on some leggings and one of his Richmond t-shirts (no name on the back). You bounce down the stairs, your heels from the night before discarded at the bottom. Your dress had been left there too but Roy's obviously rescued it and draped it over the back of the sofa.

"Thank you for saving the dress." You tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

"It's only down here so I can put it on you again and then take it back off."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't think we had time for that this morning?" You tease. You sit up on one of the barstools and he steps between your legs, holding out a piece of toast.

"We don't, but I can look at it and dream." He sneaks a kiss before passing your breakfast and moves to stand behind you.

"I see what you're doing, feed me, put me in a good mood before I have to read these stupid messages?"

"Is it working?" He kisses your neck.

"No."

"Yes," a laugh which makes you shiver.

"Fine, yes. OK, what have we got…" You unlock the phone and open Andy’s contact page. "Ready?" He nods into your shoulder.

" Now I see why you said no to getting back together. Starting tame, also he's not wrong. I'll allow it. You look like a slag in that dress. Juicy, god I haven't heard the word slag for years!" Roy growls. " I'm guessing Lexie doesn't know. She will when she wakes up. Hmm. OK. I mean, she likes you so I think we can cope with that situation. I think she'll be OK?"

"She's a fucking great kid, smart as hell. She'll be OK." He assures you.

"There's more. He must have been pretty drunk by these I think. Bet he can't even fuck you with that dodgy knee. Uhhh, better than anyone. Ever. Ever." You feel his grin against your neck. "Don't get a big head."

"Not my head." He laughs, his beard and warm breath tickling you.

"Ohhh stop doing that. Moving on. I'm sorry you dint really look like a slut. or slag. Ah, spelling and memory are becoming an issue. Oh god, he's back to sex. No idea why, he has literally zero to brag about. can't believe that wanker gets to fuck you in that dress bitch I wud fuk u better. Wow, that one is a real mess. Its the last one, I'm guessing he passed out after that because that last bit is just wishful thinking on his part."

"Didn't he have Lexie?"

"She went to his mums I think, he was going to the West Ham match."

"Good fucking job, if I find out he's getting wasted while she's with him-" You spin the seat around to face him again,

"You'll do nothing. I'll rip his dick off with my bare hands though."

"Fuck me, you're hot when you're angry."

"I should go and get her. I just need to check where from. Are you with Jamie today?"

"Yeah, but I can see him later if you want me to come with you?"

"I'll be OK. How shall we tell her? Do you want to be there?"

"Your call babe, whatever you think she'd prefer? I'd rather not scare the shit out of her."

"I'll get her and go back to mine. You could come over when you're done later if you want? If she asks me, I won't lie to her but if she doesn't, then we can tell her together? I'll cook for you for a change."

"Perfect. Do me a favour?"

"Anything."

"Wear this when you pick her up." He traces over your heart where it turns out, his name is on the shirt embroidered above the Richmond logo.

"Baby, I would turn up in a full kit with your name on the back. Knee socks included, and football boots, just to piss him off." He kisses you fiercely,

"Now you're just talking dirty to me," he mutters.

"Yep, you love it. Come on, I bet Jamie's dying for gossip and I've got to get going." You text Andy while throwing only the important things in your bag. You're sure you've left a breadcrumb trail of your belongings around the house, but you know Roy won't mind. You head out together, the walk taking you both in the same direction for much of the journey. "Did you need to do anything about the photos?"

"Nah, no point in retracting them now and you look fit so the whole world can see them for all I care."

"Including your mum."

"Including my m-, shit, yeah I'd better call her. And your parents? Are they gonna wonder what the fucks going on?"

"I'll take Lexie round that way on our way home I think. Appease them."

"Nice one. Right, this is the Tartt's palace. See you later. Good luck, don't fucking kill him without me there to watch."

"Hmm I'll try. Don't make Jamie vom, he was trying really hard not to get too drunk last night but I don't think he was very successful."

"Story of his life. Love you." You smile up at him,

"Love you too." Jamie has the door open before Roy's even hallway through the gate, waving at you. You wave back and carry on up to Andy’s mum's house. She had been largely on your side up to now, annoyed with Andy for breaking up the family and worried that she'd see less of Lexie because of it. You'd reassured her repeatedly, taken Lexie in for tea on the way home from school, picked up bits of shopping for her and gently tried to let her know that nothing had to change between them. You weren't so sure that would be the case this morning.

~~~~~~~~

Andy’s car was on the drive so you braced yourself.

"Darling girl, come in! Tea?"

"Hi Daph, yes please. I've only had time for one this morning." So far, so good.

"Sore head?" She asked knowingly.

"Not too bad. I suspect someone else is more hungover than me."

"You're not wrong. Did he give you crap?"

"A bit. How was Lex?"

"Oh golden, we had a lovely night. She's none the wiser by the way." She leads you from your hushed conversation in the hallway to her kitchen where Lexie sat eating breakfast and Andy hovered with a coffee in hand.

"Morning poppet, did you have a good night with Gran?"

"Yeah, we watched the new Matilda film!"

"And she hasn't stopped singing the songs yet!" Lexie grinned at her Gran.

"Show me later. Did you do your homework with Dad?" She nodded through a mouthful of cereal. Andy had yet to acknowledge you so far. "Shall we pop and see Nanny and Pop-pop on the way home?" Her face lights up, Andy grunts from the corner of the room.

"Something to tell the folks eh?"

"Nothing we haven't already talked about." You quickly come up with the white lie. You don't want him to have the satisfaction that you're on clean up duty today. Lexie finishes her breakfast, puts her bowl in the sink and gives Daph a big hug.

"Thank you Gran."

"Anytime pickle. Have a lovely week at school."

"And bye to Dad?" You prompt her, finishing your tea. You manage to leave without being cornered by Andy, it's pretty clear that his mum has told him to keep his mouth shut, so the short distance to your parents is a happy one. Your dad is already in the garden checking his plants and you can see your mum in the kitchen window beaming at Lexie. "Morning!" You call out, Lexie runs straight in so you go to your dad first. "Hiya dad."

"Morning poppet," the same nickname you use for Lexie makes you smile. "Saw the paper."

"Hmm I thought you might have."

"Isn't he an almighty arsehole? I saw him on Sky Sports news, proper miserable bugger." You laugh at your dad's straight to the point question.

"I still need to talk to Lexie, so I can't really talk about it too much, but he's so lovely dad. He's a grumpy fucker but he loves me, and Lexie too. It's early days, but he makes me very happy." Your dad stays quiet, just a grunt of acknowledgement.

"I'll see about that. You'll bring him?"

"Soon, let's get the season finished first. It's a busy couple of weeks."

"Any luck on the job front?"

"Not yet."

"I hope you're not planning on just letting him support you? I didn't raise you like that."

"Dad! Course I'm not!" It stings a bit that he'd even ask that. You leave him to his tomato plants and go in to your mum.

"Morning, love. Good night?"

"Yeah, thank you." Lexie is distracted by the baking your mum has already started, "you're not going to ask if I'm in it for the money as well are you?" Your mum laughs,

"Don't be daft. Nice t-shirt," she notes. "Does the situation make you happy?" She asks cryptically for Lexie's benefit.

"Very."

"Well that's enough for me for now. More details to follow though please. And you looked beautiful, my sweetheart."

"Thank you."

"He's very handsome. The only reason I'd put up with your dad watching Sky Sports news, really. Don't tell him I said that."

"I'm not telling either of them. Don't want him leaving me for my hot mum!" You stay long enough for Lexie the bottomless pit to have one of your mums famed apple muffins and pack up a couple to take for Roy, thankful that they can't ask too much with Lexie around. You plan to walk home via the park so text Sara who meets you with Phoebe.

"How did the parental rounds go? Roy called this morning, said you'd have to deal with Andy's mum as well?"

"The mums are fine, I think. Turns out he's got a good fanbase in older women."

"Oh that'll be his yoga women theory rumbled then. So confident they have no idea who he is! Like their husbands aren't all glued to weekend football."

"My dad asked if I was a golddigger."

"Ouch, rude!"

"Just making sure I'm not throwing my career away."

"What career?" She sniggers.

"Oi, cheek!"

"You looked so great together last night. The pictures were amazing."

"It didn't even cross my mind that they'd get attention like that. I wasn't expecting damage control this morning, or to have to tell those two so soon." You look over at where the girls are playing.

"Phebs hasn't mentioned it yet, but it won't take long. You haven't got to see the playground parents tomorrow have you? That'll be fun, they love a bit of extracurricular shagging!"

"No, she's at breakfast club thankfully! I'm going to tell her this afternoon."

"Good idea, gotta do it before anyone else can." You say goodbye with plans to watch the following week's Man City game together with the girls and to catch up in the week at school.

~~~~~~~~

You're considering tackling the mountain of washing and more job applications when the front door knocks. Lexie, who's been quiet all morning, jumps up to open it. You can just about see the front door from the kitchen, so the first thing you see is Roy handing Lexie a bunch of pink tulips.

"For me?" She squeaks, "really?"

"Is that OK?"

"Only mum has ever brought me flowers before! Mum! Roy brought me flowers!" She rushes in to show you, shaking the bunch in her little fist.

"Oh honey, they're beautiful! Shall I help you put them in water?"

"Can you do it? I'm making friendship bracelets."

"'Scuse me?"

"Pleaseee?"

"That's better, yes, I can do that for you." She puts the flowers on the table and runs back to the living room, high fiving Roy on the way past. "Someone is on the charm offensive."

"Oh big time," he pulled another bunch from behind his back, peonies.

"How did you know?"

"Dunno what you're talking about." He checked the door before kissing you lightly, you cock your head to one side, "alright yeah, Lexie told me last week when you were out shopping with Sar."

"I knew you were a softy really."

"Only for you, don't get destroying my fucking tough man image."

"I wouldn't dream of it. I like that side too. Did you make Jamie vomit?"

"Unfortunately no. Did you kill anyone?"

"Unfortunately no. Bad mornings all round." He hasn't moved from your side yet and keeps looking to the door. "I think you're safe. She's making Richmond coloured bracelets for the match, we're watching with your mum and sister."

"So I've heard, means I'd better tell my mum about you then." At the knowledge that you shouldn't be interrupted for a few moments, he takes the opportunity to crowd you against the counter and really kiss you. You tilt your head to give you both better access and he sweeps his tongue over your bottom lip before biting it. The small gesture sends a wave of pleasure through your body and your hands go to the hem of his t-shirt of their own accord. You slide them just underneath enough to feel the warm skin on his stomach. The lightest scratch of your nails so close to the waistband of his jeans makes him growl into the kiss. "I've got to stop," he groans, pulling away from you. You can't help the desperate, needy moan at the loss of contact, and the look he gives you from that sound alone is enough to leave you trembling. You take a second to get your breath back and go back to sorting out the flowers. "Has she asked?" He questions once it feels safe enough to talk again.

"Not yet. I'm going to go and talk to her, you're welcome to come with me?" He squeezes your hand reassuringly but makes sure to let it go once you're in the living room. "Hey, Lex? I need to tell you some that you might end up hearing about from someone else, I wanted to be able to tell you first though?" She sits up and starts measuring your wrist for a friendship bracelet.

"Is it about Roy?"

"Uhh yeah, how did you know?" She shrugs,

"He's here. And he brought flowers." You nod,

"Right, of course. Yeah, it's about Roy. He asked me out to a fancy party last night. You might see some pictures of us-"

"Have you got them, can I see now?"

"Sure, I just need to get my phone." You're about to stand when Roy passes you his phone instead, and you see the lockscreen is one of the pictures from the night before. You hold it out to her,

"You guys look so cute." Roy grunts at being called 'cute', "It's true!" She says, taking up his wrist to measure him for a bracelet. "So he's like, your boyfriend?" You steal a quick look at him, his eyebrows raise in anticipation of your answer.

"Yeah. Is that ok?" Lexie shrugs,

"Sure, you're cooler than dad's new girlfriend but they broke up already. And now I get to meet footballers and hang out with Phoebe even more. She said we could be cousins and I told her I didn't have any so she said we should definitely do that. Can we?"

"Let's ummm… cousins is a very big step for you both. You really need to make sure you're ready so just slow down a bit there." Roy is sniggering at the big deal you've made cousins out to be, but Lexie is having none of it.

"Mum, I think we'd be OK. We're nearly 9. We're not babies. I think you should just be brave and let us do it."

"Thanks for that input bunny, I'll take the cousins thing super seriously, ok?" She accepts your suggestion and thankfully drops the conversation. In the safety of the kitchen, you lean into him and let his arms wrap around you. "That was so scary. Why are 8 year olds so fucking terrifying?!"

"You were the shit, I fucking loved that." He laughs, his chest rumbling against yours. You stand together until Roy's phone rings and disturbs you. "It's Phoebe. Alright love?" He asks her. You can hear the squeal through the phone but can't make out what she's actually saying. You move away from Roy and give him a big thumbs up and a: you got this ! He doesn't look convinced, despite you only just telling him how scary it was. You can only hear his side of the call. "Nan saw the pictures? Yeah it was a fucking great dress. Yeah alright, I owe you. Worth it. No, this doesn't mean you're cousins now. You can be cousins when I tell you so. Cos it'll be up to me! Phoebe, put nan on the phone. Mum? Yeah she's OK. I'll come and see you tomorrow. I will, love you." He hangs up and you wait. "Phoebe is suddenly obsessed with cousins and mum wanted to check you were ok." You smile,

"I think that went well then. All the mums are on board, all the kids, I'm claiming the win."

You cooked dinner, as promised and let Lexie watch a film with Roy afterwards while you packed her school bag and your work things. He left at her bedtime, leaving you with a kiss at the door.

"Maybe Roy could have a sleepover next time, mum," she said halfway to sleep, "but you can't steal all the covers or he'll get cold."

"Thanks poppet, I'll make sure I don't steal the covers."

~~~~~~~~

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