#rticklefic

[ticklishraspberries]

Sick Puppy (Roman Roy)

Summary: Sometimes, people see right through Roman’s act and put him in his place. He’s into that, though. (This fic is not ship-specific...I guess it’s more of a character study, but like, in a horny way. And the other person involved is faceless, nameless...Not an OC or an x reader thing, just...An entity, I guess? Very different from my usual fics, I hope someone enjoys it. Warnings for smut (18+ only), degradtion/humiliation, tickling as a sexual act, and some light dub-con (in the begging-but-not-meaning-it way.)

He isn’t good at asking for what he wants. Yes, he can order employees around, whine about needing another beer or fancy watch, and initiate a hug when he needs one, at least, with Kendall and Shiv. But when it comes to intimacy, sex, something he should be so confident about…Well, his tongue gets entirely tied. He’s good at charming people with rehearsed smiles and bullshit buzzwords, but forming a connection, feeling comfortable…He’s shit at that.

Every once in a while, something arises, and he’s actually able to get it up for something other than his right hand. Sometimes, someone manages to read him like a fucking book, see past the cool facade, and discover the weird shit that really gets him going.

Those times are really the only time he enjoys sex. Just snapping his hips in time with the moans of some blonde chick isn’t really his thing. It’s boring, and way too vulnerable for such little payoff. But when it gets to the kinky stuff, that’s what interests him.

It starts as an accident, too-gentle touches in too-sensitive places, making him shiver and squirm before he’s properly tickled, pinned against a mattress, trying to smother his giggling in a pillow.

“You like this, don’t you? Fuckin’ perv.”

Roman swallows hard. His cheeks are flushed, and his pupils are dilated. The pillow is slowly pulled away from his face, and one look at his expression is enough to answer the questions.

“Never thought you’d get off on being helpless like this. All the fame, money, power…It doesn’t mean shit right now. I can do whatever I want to you. Does that scare you?”

The words rush through his veins and travel south, cock twitching in his well-tailored, high-priced pants. Something like a whimper leaves his mouth as he nods once, slowly.

“You’re one sick puppy.”

Yes, he is. He’s a fucking freak, a masochist who wants an outlet for all the stress. Wants to let someone else pull him around by the collar, tell him what to wear, what to eat, and where to go. Wants to be put in his place, made fun of. Being rich, famous, whatever…None of it makes him less susceptible to embarrassment, desperation, or ticklishness.

“Ask for it.”

The touch is gone as quickly as it had begun, and he whines like a spoiled child, being told ‘no’ for the first time. It’s all for show, really. He likes the way the words feel heavy in his mouth, how his stomach flips at the thought of spitting out that word, two syllables, starting with ‘T’ and ending with ‘E’.

Humiliation has always been the fastest way to Roman Roy’s heart—well, more like his cock. There isn’t room in his heart for anyone other than his siblings.

He stutters over his words, averting his gaze, like a shy schoolboy with a crush on his young, hot teacher. “Can you…I, I mean, could you…Please? Please, this is fuckin’ embarrassing, can you just fucking tickle me already?”

He bursts into a high-pitched fit of giggles the moment fingers touch his belly, squirming wildly. Despite his urge to escape, he holds his arms up over his own head, hands clasped together, muscles twitching with the urge to pull them down and protect his sensitive spots. But like a good, obedient dog, he stays in place.

“Good boy. It’s so cute when you beg.”

The praise makes his skin feel electrified, each sensation amplified. He’s good. He’s…cute? Hot, sexy, handsome, those are words he’d use. But cute…He can work with cute.

The buttons of his shirt are already undone, nothing underneath, but that’s not enough. It’s roughly tugged off his arms, and thrown to the side. It’s brand new, sitting crumpled on the floor. He doesn’t care.

He returns his arms to their raised position, feeling twice as exposed now. He feels like prey. It makes his pants feel tight. He’s not being touched, but he lets out a nervous chuckle.

“I’m not even touching you. Are you really that sensitive, hm?”

“Yes,” he replies, breathless. Admitting it feels euphoric and horrible all at once. It’s true, though. When he was younger, all his siblings had to do was wiggle their fingers at him and he’d take off running.

Nails start at his elbow, slowly scratching down his biceps, towards his armpits, and his giggling becomes more frantic. “Wait, wait, can’t we tahalk about this? I will pay you not to touch me there, it’s—”

“Too ticklish?” The mock sympathetic tone makes him whine again. “If you really want me to, I can stop. But something tells me you’re just begging because it turns you on more if I ignore it…”

God, if only his people skills were this good, he’d close every business deal. He squeezes his eyes shut, unable to look as he affirms the suspicion. For a corporate scumbag, he does actually value consent, but pretending to hate this makes it so much more exciting.

Fingers waste no time in attacking his underarms, and he’s pulling his arms down immediately with a too-loud, so unbecoming shriek of laughter.

“God, you weren’t kidding. This is pathetic.”

One arm is pinned above Roman’s head, fingers scratching at the space between his top rib and the hollow of his underarm, and he uses his free hand to touch himself, whines and moans intermingling with laughter.

“Yeah, cum for me like this. Can’t believe this is what gets you off. So hot, watching you squirm like this…”

The words only send him over the edge at an embarrassing speed.

In about an hour, he’ll be so fucking embarrassed, will probably down some wine to forget it. Just like all his other affairs, this will go away with an NDA and a check. But there will always be someone out there who has seen him like this, seen him beg and whine like a bitch, and he finds the thought both infuriating and arousing.

At least he knows he’s capable of asking for what he wants, although it clearly takes some persuasion. Plus, he has jack-off material to last him a lifetime, which is always fun.

#i don't even know what to tag this i..... #succession ticklefic #succession tickle fic #roman roy smut #rticklefic #tickle fic #raspberry writes #succession #not sfw