#gregory hirsch x reader

[wambsgansshoelaces]

maybe general dating headcanons of the succession characters? like the type of partners/lovers they are? thx 😸

hi anon!! so sorry this is late AKDJSJF hopefully you like it x love u thank u for requesting <3

listened to “i see the light” on loop while I wrote this so now it’s the size of a oneshot

dating them (succession main cast)

Kendall

ᝰ idc what you have to say, words of affirmation is his TOP love language

ᝰ all the others apply to him but like

ᝰ that one is his favorite

ᝰ both to give and to receive

ᝰ he’s always making sure you’re happy

ᝰ in the moment and just in general

ᝰ and it’s like his world comes crashing down when you express you’re feeling insecure

ᝰ he’s your #1 supporter in self love

ᝰ once you’ve moved in together, he starts leaving you notes where he know’s you’ll find them

ᝰ things like “you’re loved” with crappy doodles of hearts and two stick figures that you think are supposed to be the both of you

ᝰ he likes treating you to nice things whenever he can

ᝰ fancy dinners, jewelry, watches, vacations

ᝰ he has the money; it’s not like he’s just going to NOT spend it on you

ᝰ and he’s your biggest advocate in everything

ᝰ sometime’s he’s lowkey rude about it

ᝰ like if your order comes out wrong at a restaurant

ᝰ he’s all “um, actually, no, this isn’t right”

ᝰ and you’re just “ken calm down”

ᝰ “no, you deserve the best, which is what you’re going to get.”

ᝰ maybe he’s not so much into kissing in public, but he’s always touching you one way or another

ᝰ he’s always holding your hand, or you’ve taken his bicep or elbow, or he has his hand on the small of your back, your hip, your shoulder

ᝰ the paparazzi is always around, and he wants you close and safe

ᝰ and he also likes that everyone can see that the two of you are involved

ᝰ committed to each other

ᝰ at the end of the day, he’s just happy you’re his

ᝰ you make him a better man

ᝰ and he’s eternally grateful that he has you

ᝰ he’s your big ol softie

Roman

ᝰ physical touch and quality time

ᝰ you spend all of your evenings together cuddled up and murmuring to each other about your days

ᝰ can’t cook for the life of him, but when he can, he makes you breakfast

ᝰ if your hair is long, he’ll learn to braid just so he can spend mor time with you

ᝰ under all the jokes he’s really just soft and sapp

ᝰ he treats you with so much car

ᝰ everything he does is thought out as to how you’ll receive i

ᝰ he only takes you out to dinner when he knows you’ll be able to have your favorite table

ᝰ he learns how to make different kinds of soup for you when you’re sick

ᝰ subtle pda king

ᝰ if you’re at dinner with his family, his hand’s on your thigh

ᝰ if you’re out walking in the street, he’s holding your hand

ᝰ if you’re lounging around on his dad’s yacht, his head’s on your stomach

ᝰ and he’s snoring but that’s not the point

ᝰ he loves just being with you

ᝰ he sits right up against you when you’re on the couch

ᝰ he lets you sit in his lap whenever you want

ᝰ his arm’s around you in every picture you take

ᝰ your cheeks smushed together in a bunch of selfies

ᝰ you’re his phone wallpaper

ᝰ work and home

ᝰ he loves talking about you

ᝰ at work galas he absolutely adores introducing you as his spouse

ᝰ or if you’re not there he asks “oh, do you happen to know my partner?”

ᝰ and then talks about you nonstop

ᝰ at a dinner you leave him to go get something for you both to drink

ᝰ before you make your way back, you spot him talking to a colleague

ᝰ he has his wallet out, and he’s showing the colleague something

ᝰ you get closer and realize it’s a picture of you

Shiv

ᝰ she treats you like a queen

ᝰ she’s a physical touch girl

ᝰ but really she loves words of affirmation

ᝰ and gift giving

ᝰ giving you gifts, specifically

ᝰ her favorite part of life after meeting you is spending lazy mornings in, cuddled up, kissing, touching

ᝰ she particularly enjoys going on long walks with you

ᝰ down piers, beaches, whatever

ᝰ her hand in yours, her eyes towards the sky

ᝰ she loves bringing things back for you from work trips

ᝰ or any trip she takes

ᝰ chocolates, matching bracelets, trinkets that remind you of her

ᝰ she makes all your days brighter

ᝰ one day on a visit to her office to bring her lunch, you find out there's literally seven framed pictures of you on her desk

ᝰ you are her phone wallpaper

ᝰ but she has it so it changes every time her phone closes

ᝰ so it's really thirty different photos of you are her wallpaper

ᝰ most mornings, she’s tucked up against you

ᝰ face buried in your neck

ᝰ it’s her favorite place to be

ᝰ just with you

ᝰ despite all of her peacocking and chest puffery, she just needs your support

ᝰ she needs you

ᝰ she needs her rock

ᝰ your love

ᝰ she tends to overthink and stress herself out

ᝰ but when things look like they’re going bad, she knows she can come to you

ᝰ and you’ll kiss her, tell her she’s beautiful, coo to her with that perfect voice of yours

ᝰ and suddenly everything is okay again

ᝰ for that, she knows you deserve the world

ᝰ she pampers you

ᝰ spoils you

ᝰ a tradition between the two of you is an annual trip down to the caribbean

ᝰ you both spend all your time out on the beach

ᝰ either splashing each other in the water

ᝰ or her curled up on top of you, skin pressed to yours

ᝰ she loves doing your hair and picking out outfits when you let her

ᝰ she loves doting on you when you’re sick

ᝰ she can’t bear it when you’re hurt

ᝰ but obviously won’t ever show it

ᝰ what she will show is how much she loves you

ᝰ everywhere you go, you feel loved

ᝰ she’ll never stop loving you

Tom

ᝰ mr. quality time

ᝰ literally does not care what you’re doing; he’s with you

ᝰ all he wants is to be with you

ᝰ you bring him peace

ᝰ his favorite pastime is cuddling with you in bed

ᝰ specifically with your jaw cupped in his hand, anchoring your head to his chest

ᝰ along with quality time, he’s huge on gift giving

ᝰ every week, he comes home with flowers

ᝰ and there’s always a fresh vase on your work desk

ᝰ he LOVES writing you notes

ᝰ love letters, even

ᝰ every new bouquet of flowers that show up at your work come with a heartfelt note

ᝰ in every single one, he tells you he loves you

ᝰ then writes about whatever it is he has going on in his day and how he’s thinking of you

ᝰ while he’ll never admit it, he loves pda

ᝰ specifically when you initiate it

ᝰ it makes him all smiley and happy

ᝰ he especially loves it when you’re hanging off of his arm at work things and he gets to show you off

ᝰ he just thinks you’re the most gorgeous person to exist ever

ᝰ he can never go to sleep without his arms around you

ᝰ he started wearing those nasal strips because he knows he snores and doesn’t want to keep you awake

ᝰ this man loves him a good restaurant

ᝰ but only if you’re there with him

ᝰ he can never get behind sitting across from you unless you’re in a booth

ᝰ he says that it’s more intimate when you’re sitting next to each other at a square table

ᝰ ALWAYS lets you eat from his plate

ᝰ if he ever ‘stoops as low’ (his words) as to go to a fast food place, he always asks if you want fries

ᝰ he knows to get you an order regardless otherwise you’ll just steal from him

ᝰ not that he cares anyway

ᝰ he also particularly loves watching the sun set with you

ᝰ something poetic about the sky almost being as beautiful as you

ᝰ you both try to watch it whenever you can

ᝰ because you only have so many days on this earth

ᝰ he wants to spend as many of them as physically possible with you

ᝰ you’ve noticed, though, over the sunsets, he doesn’t really pay attention to them after a certain amount of time

ᝰ he just stares at you

ᝰ and whenever you catch his eyes, they’re so full of love

ᝰ just for you

ᝰ only for you

Greg

ᝰ acts of service warrior

ᝰ LOVES doing things for you

ᝰ whether it be chores or bringing you coffee at work

ᝰ he likes feeling useful

ᝰ especially if he feels useful to you

ᝰ it’s a different sort of ecstasy for him

ᝰ you like buying him bracelets

ᝰ he wears them everywhere

ᝰ you’d gotten him an “i love my partner” (those like i <3 my gf) pin as a joke and he unironically wears it around on his waystar lanyard

ᝰ "yeah, my partner got that for me!"

ᝰ he’s a bit panicky and overthinks too much

ᝰ but he just has to look at you and his anxieties come under control

ᝰ he’s always running around, so he really enjoys just laying with you in bed

ᝰ he sleeps like a dying victorian child

ᝰ slumped over on you like the life was sucked from him

ᝰ he likes going on miniature adventures with you

ᝰ they’re nothing crazy; just dates that push him out of his comfort zone

ᝰ like kayaking

ᝰ you had to force him into the boat to go kayaking with you

ᝰ like physically

ᝰ yeah he’s scared, he doesn’t want to get hurt

ᝰ he doesn’t want you to get hurt

ᝰ but he hears you laughing and sees your gorgeous smile

ᝰ and that’s when he realizes he can just suck it up

ᝰ because he wants you happy

ᝰ he learns how to make those braided bracelets for you

ᝰ it’s a calming hobby, and he likes seeing them on your wrists

ᝰ he made something for you

ᝰ and you like it

ᝰ that’s all he could ever need in life

ᝰ he learns how to cook your favorite meals for you

ᝰ and he’s a surprisingly good cook

ᝰ his hyper vigilance over the food makes it come out almost perfectly every time

ᝰ unless he’s having a breakdown

ᝰ which happens less now that he’s gotten with you

ᝰ you make things calm

ᝰ he loves calm

ᝰ he loves you

Stewy

ᝰ he’s so extra

ᝰ literally every single love language under the sun is his favorite one

ᝰ showers you with little trinkets that just remind him of you

ᝰ if you collect something, he’s constantly gifting you specifically that

ᝰ he spends as much time as he can with you

ᝰ as long as he’s not working, he’s perfectly content just sitting in silence with you

ᝰ he’s a massive fan of the water

ᝰ may it be yachts, jetskiis, floating gazebos

ᝰ he likes making special dates out of things like that

ᝰ he wants you to feel like everything you do together is new

ᝰ he doesn’t want you getting bored

ᝰ he’s worried you will, actually

ᝰ if he buys you jewelry, it’s hella expensive

ᝰ and diamond studded

ᝰ if you’re a watch person, he’s even worse

ᝰ he buys you every watch you ever look at

ᝰ goes the most bananas over pda out of everyone

ᝰ internally, anyway

ᝰ he doesn’t make it kown, but his some of his favorite moments with you are when you’re both bustling through a crowd in italy or something

ᝰ but you’re clinging to each other so neither of you get lost

ᝰ did i mention he likes traveling

ᝰ he likes traveling

ᝰ and you’re the only person he’d ever even consider traveling with

ᝰ at night in greece, he discovers he likes the pinky holding thing

ᝰ he saw it on tiktok

ᝰ so when you’re walking back to your hotel, he hooks his pinky with yours

ᝰ and it becomes a thing between you two

ᝰ also is for some reason obsessed with giving you his jacket when you’re cold

ᝰ it could be below freezing and you already have a jacket on

ᝰ and he’d give you his blazer or coat anyway

ᝰ and he’ll stand there shivering with this dumb grin on his face

ᝰ it always ends with you two sharing a scarf

ᝰ you think he does it on purpose, just do be close

ᝰ just to have an excuse to have an arm around you

ᝰ and really, you’re right

ᝰ he just needs you

#succession x reader headcanons #succession headcanons #succession #succession hbo #succession x reader #anon ask #kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #roman roy #roman roy x reader #siobhan roy #siobhan roy x reader #tom wambsgans #tom wambsgans x reader #gregory hirsch #gregory hirsch x reader #stewy hosseini #stewy hosseini x reader #wambsgansshoelaces

[salbei-141]

Be honest with me (Roman Roy x reader)

Masterlist

word count: 1.1k

warnings: 18+, pure fluff and comfort, mentions of verbal abuse

a/n: Inactivity who? A rare update I know lol. Anyway y’all I’m so in love with him - honestly in love with all the Roy siblings, but Romulus got a special place in my heart <3

I love how late I jump onto writing trends for characters, but in my defence I've had this in the drafts for MONTHS. Anyway, hope you enjoy my loves <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The apartment was silent, it felt too out of character, especially for Roman. The both of you lay in silence on his bed, still in today's clothes.

You move your hand slowly - scared that a sudden movement would cause him to suddenly get up and leave without warning. Tentatively, you inch your fingers onto his own - he said nothing, nor did he move. Gaining more confidence and desperate to comfort him knowing how loud his mind must be right now - you encapsulate his hand within your own. They’re soft and warm - Roman was always warm to touch. You feel his hand squeeze your own back - still no words being said.

You take a deep breath, feeling the need to break the silence finally, but before you can, Roman cuts you off.

“Please don’t,” his voice came out weak - he was usually so quick witted…he just sounded tired.

“Okay,” your voice was soft - a complete dichotomy to the tone he was used to from his father and siblings.

Another 30 minutes went by in complete silence - the both of your steady breaths being the only thing heard. Your hand still lay in his - he hadn't moved an inch unless it was to gently squeeze your hand every so often.

You turn on your side, slipping your hand out of his - he still didn't move. You decided to move closer to him, laying your head on his shoulder and draping your right arm across his chest that rose up and down with each breath he took.

You studied his face - he looked like he wanted to push you off of him, and yet simultaneously he was aching to pull you closer to him. Your touch was the only touch he felt safe feeling - you'd never hurt him, and he never doubted that thought for a second, but he was just so used to being alone and pushing people away.

You were desperate to hear his voice, to understand what was running through his head. You knew he was probably going to say some stupid quip to hide how he really felt, but you'd see straight through him; he knew this and it was the scariest thing to him - that you actually saw him.

"Ro...," you were gentle - a part of him just wanted you to shout at him and tell him he was a waste of space just like his father had - it was all he knew. However, you were just too kind, you actually cared for him, and not in the way his father cared for him - if you could call it that - but in a way that was so genuine and pure that it felt wrong to him, but he craved every second of it.

His gaze moved from the ceiling to your worried face - you looked beautiful he thought, he had always thought you were the most beautiful person he knew. "Yeah," his voice sounded small and tired.

"Are you okay?" the question was stupid, you knew he wasn't, but you wondered if he'd answer you honestly - if for once he'd be vulnerable with you, and truly let you into what was going through his mind.

"What? Pfft yeah I'm fine, real fucking good...just thinking about who has bigger tits - you or Gerri...I think Gerri does," there it was...he couldn't be honest with you for a minute if he tried - he'd rather say some crude shit and hope you'd be weirded out enough like everyone else and just leave him so he could avoid sharing his emotions.

You sat up, leaning on one hand as you stared down at him while he tried to avoid your gaze which was slowly glazing over with unshed tears. "Roman...please I-...can you just be honest with me?" your voice had a slight shake - scared that you were going to push him over the edge and he'd run.

He made eye contact with you, his heart clenching in his chest, no one had made him feel the way you could make him feel, and that scared him. He didn't know what to do - his mind was screaming so many things at him all at once that he couldn't really make a decision, so he stayed silent.

Several minutes passed of you both just holding each other's gaze then he opened his mouth tentatively, "Why do you care about me? Why can't you just call me a freak or a perv and leave?" You watched as his eyes reddened and glazed over as he tried his hardest not to cry in front of you. Had you cracked him? It felt bittersweet that he might finally just be honest with you, but the pain in his eyes was tearing at your heart.

You smiled, giggling softly as you lifted a hand to his cheek and wiped away a singular tear that had managed to fall, watching as he turned his face to meet your caress - he trusted you. "Because I fucking love you Roman".

"But why?" he interrupted you like a child would trying to understand such a foreign concept that you were trying to explain.

"There's no reason - I mean there is, you're...you. I love you Roman." You were so soft with him, it felt alien to him. It broke you that he couldn't fathom the concept of someone genuinely loving him, and in such a pure way too. This love wasn't like the love from his father, nor from his siblings - it was something so foreign that he couldn't understand it, but he liked it...he liked this.

You laid back down beside him, "Come here Ro...please" your eyes had such a soft stare - they were so warm and inviting, he couldn't object to the embrace you were offering him.

Roman inched across the bed over into your arms, wrapping his arm around your waist and burying his face in your chest, while you wrapped an arm around his back, holding him close to you. You fell into a comfortable silence, holding each other without a care in the world - it was just the both of you.

"I love you too, you know?" he muttered it so quietly that it almost went unheard, but a smile spread across your face at his confession. You knew that he had probably been having an internal argument with himself on whether or not he was actually going to say it to you; without any sarcasm too.

You felt your heart fluttering in your chest and you pulled him closer to you, "Yeah I know". You tilted your head down slightly and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head. He went to open his mouth to say some sarky comment, but immediately shut it - he didn't need to feel defensive around you, not now, and not ever.

#fluff #fem reader #sucession #roman roy x reader #roman roy #roman roy fluff #roman roy imagine #roman roy x you #succession x reader #comfort #fanfic #succession roman #logan roy #shiv roy #kendall roy #gregory hirsch #tom wambsgans

[hbosucc]

Greg Hirsch x Reader: Chapter 9

Hi loves! This is the last chapter I have written, I might write more on it, especially if anyone wants to send a request. I had so, so much fun writing this.

Ok, chapter content warnings! This chapter is 18+, minors dni.

Sexual content: p in v, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving).

Swearing

Alcohol consumption

Link to previous chapter here

That's all! Thank you to anyone interacting with these posts, it makes me happy to know that people are reading:)

Chapter 9: A Night Out

On one of Greg’s rare weekend nights off, I’d suggested we go out on the town. Usually when we spent a night together, one or both of us would have to get up early the next morning for work, so we’d have to do something low-key, like order takeout and watch a show. Finally, we both had the whole weekend off, and I was so looking forward to spending it with him.

          “You’re sure your family won’t be there?” I asked, putting the finishing touches on my makeup in front of the mirror. We were at Greg’s place, and I’d brought an overnight bag with this time.

          “No, definitely not. They’re at some corporate retreat in, like, Poland or something.” Greg appeared in the mirror behind me, coming up to wrap his arms around my waist. I leaned back into him. I loved him, I knew it for sure now. I hadn’t told him yet, but I was fighting the impulse to. If he didn’t feel the same way, I didn’t want to know. I wanted to bask in the warmth of the feeling in private for a while before letting it out into the world, where it would either grow or be snuffed out.

          “Okay. Good.” I put down the makeup brush and gave myself a final once-over. I looked good, he looked good, it was all good. “You ready to go?”

          The club he’d picked had, I learned, been recommended to him by his cousin Roman. I hadn’t met Roman at the gala I’d attended with Greg, but I’d heard a lot about him. I wasn’t entirely sure if I trusted his taste in nightlife, but I was game to try something new. Greg’s driver let us out in front and we headed inside. He’d made sure in advance that we would be on the list.

          Inside, it was more dimly-lit than I’d expected. It wasn’t too crowded, but I supposed that it was still relatively early. We learned that all of the drinks on the menu were named after early film stars. I ordered a Mae West, and Greg decided to try a Brando. Drinks in hand, we wandered from room to room, ending up on a balcony upstairs, overlooking the dance floor.

          "Oof, that’s a strong one.” I tried a sip of my drink. It was clear, bubbly, and slightly fruity, and I could tell the bartender had poured it with a heavy hand.

          “Mine’s good. Want to try?” We swapped drinks. His was just as strong, but darker and smokier, with some kind of whisky in it. I wasn’t a fan.

          “You don’t want to dance?” I raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the floor below. It was crowded full of hot, sweaty, attractive people, but somehow, I didn’t feel too out of place. I guessed the Roy lifestyle was finally rubbing off on me.

          “I’m gonna need a few more drinks in me before I do any kind of dancing.” He laughed nervously.

          “Okay.” I turned, slightly put-out. I rested my arms on the balcony, leaning over slightly.

          “Y/n?” I heard over the music, and turned to see the last person I would have expected.

          “Theo?” My mouth dropped open. “What the fuck?”

          “Right?” He laughed, his arms open. We hugged briefly, his strong arms squeezing me around the middle. “How the fuck are you?”

          “I’m really good, actually!” I said, turning and beckoning Greg over. “You?”

          “Oh, you know. The usual.” Theo grinned. He had the same hungry look in his eye, and was still, unfortunately, very sexy. Now, though, I knew this fact objectively, and it didn’t have as much of an effect on me as it would have in the past.

          “Theo, this is Greg. Greg, Theo.” I introduced them as Greg caught up. I noticed his hand come to rest on my hip, almost territorially.

          “Hey, nice to meet you, man.” Theo held out his hand, and they shook.

          “So, uh, how do you know each other?” Greg asked. My eyes met Theo’s, and he must’ve read something in them.

          “We knew each other back in college, actually. We used to party in the same groups.” Theo said. “And you two…how do you…?”

          “Oh! Greg’s my boyfriend. We met online.” I blurted.

          “Ah, the apps. I’ve heard good things.” Theo nodded. “Maybe I’ll have to try it out myself one of these days.”

          “Are you here with anyone?” I asked.

          “Yeah, I’m here with a few of the old crowd, actually. We have a table downstairs, if you guys want to join, please, feel free.”

          “Yes, definitely! We’ll meet you down there.” I smiled at the thought of seeing some of my old friends. We still followed each other on our socials, but I hadn’t seen most of them in person in a few years.

          “Cool, cool. See ya.” He flashed one last grin before disappearing back into the crowd. I relaxed against Greg, not having realized how my body’d tensed up in Theo’s presence.

          “Okay, are you going to, like, tell me how you actually know that guy?” Greg asked, and I looked up at him. His expression had soured slightly, and I realized he was jealous.

          “We knew each other in college.” I said, meeting his eyes, then looking away. “And, okay, yeah, we hooked up a few times. But that was years ago.”

          Greg was silent for a moment. A frown crossed his face, then was wiped away as he tried to conceal it. “He seemed pretty excited to see you.”

          “Sweetheart, are you jealous?” I pressed my front against him, taking his pouty face in my hands.  

          “No, of course not.” He laughed nervously, his gaze flicking down to meet mine. “That guy was, like, really hot, though.”

          “I hadn’t noticed.” I rolled my eyes, then stopped. “What, are you saying you’re surprised I could sleep with someone who looks like him?”

          “No, I’m not saying anything.” He ran a hand over his hair. “It’s just, that makes a lot more sense than this, anyways.”

          “Greg, what the fuck are you talking about?” I drew back.

          “I mean, two hot people together makes more sense than you being with me. Okay?” He downed his drink. “I’m getting another one. Do you want to go find your friends?”

          “Hold on.” I touched his arm, stopping him. “Are you feeling insecure? Is that what this is all about?”

          “Yeah. Okay? I guess I am.” He sighed.

          “Why…why on earth…” I started, pressing my cold drink glass to my forehead. I was not drunk enough to handle this. “Greg. You know I’m, like, extremely attracted to you, right?”

          “Yeah, I guess.”

          “Come on, Greg.” I followed him as he started down the stairs, back towards the bar. “Don’t throw a fit.”

          “I’m not.” He said, though I could barely hear him over the music.

          “Babes.” I grabbed his hand, but he continued on his route, pulling me along through the crowd. I stopped as we reached the bar, crossing my arms as I waited behind him while he ordered. He took a long swallow of his drink once it arrived, then turned to face me, looking less annoyed, almost ashamed.

          “Feel better?” I cocked my head. He shrugged. I glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to us: they weren’t. “Come on.”

          I’d noticed three bathrooms at the back of the bar: women’s, men’s, and a one-room all-gender restroom. I pulled him into the one-room and locked the door behind us, pressing my back against the cool wood as I turned to face him.

          “You need to pee?” He asked, setting his drink down on the counter.

          “Uh-uh.” I shook my head. “Why, do you?”

          “No.” He snort-laughed, before seeming to remember that he was upset, and his face stilled again. I crossed the room to him, slowly, looking up at him through my eyelashes.

          “Well,” I started. “If you don’t believe that I find you attractive, I guess I’ll have to do something to show you.”

          “Okay, and…what would that be?”

          “Shh,” I said, standing up on my toes to kiss him. “Trust me.” I drew back, my hands lowering to his belt, sliding it open. I unzipped his pants, pulling them down over his thighs as I knelt on the tile floor. He was still soft, but perked up as I ran my hand over him through the fabric of his underwear. His breathing quickened as I pulled him out, stroking lightly, slowly, up and down. He tensed, hardening, as I took his head into my mouth just for a moment, before pulling back to look up at his face.

          “Starting to believe me?” I asked softly, circling his head with my tongue, teasing.

          “Maybe.” He said, then sucked in a gasp as I took him in fully for a moment, hitting the roof of my mouth. I licked a strip down the shaft, towards the head, taking it back between my lips once again.

          “Does that feel good?” I asked, looking back up at him. His eyes fluttered closed and his lips parted as I continued to tease with my tongue, waiting for an answer.

          “Yeah, of course it fucking does.” One of his hands came down to rest on the back of my head, and he gently moved me back down to take him in once again. I quit my teasing, picking up the pace, relaxing my jaw and throat, trying to fight my gag reflex. I wasn’t worried about the choking noises I usually produced while giving head; guys generally seemed to be into that. I was more worried about barfing on his dick, which had never happened before, but I didn’t want tonight to be the first.

          “That’s it, yeah,” He breathed out as he held my face in place and started fucking it. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the goal I’d set in mind: to make him feel good, desirable, sexy. I didn’t love giving blowjobs—does anyone, truly?—but for Greg, I was more than willing to do it.

          After a particularly deep thrust, I sputtered, pulling against his grasp. He let go of me immediately, and I pulled back to catch my breath, reaching out to work him in my hands while I took a second.

          “Are you okay?” He asked, shuddering and letting out a moan as I took him right back into my mouth. I could tell he was just about at his limit, and he came suddenly, his cum filling my throat. It wasn’t horrible—I’d heard horror stories—just salty, and I was able to swallow it with little trouble. I pumped him a few more times, letting him down from his high, then got up from the floor and faced myself in the mirror. My mascara was running, just a little, and my lipstick was completely gone. I blotted my under-eyes and reapplied my lips while Greg caught his breath.

          “That was…” He started, letting out a long breath. “like, really fucking nice.”

          “Good.” I turned to look at him, leaning against the counter.

          “Shit.” He pulled his pants back up, re-buckling his belt, then turned to look in the mirror. He ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it back. Then, he finally looked at me, almost bashfully.

          “You know, I’ve never swallowed before.” I held his gaze.

          “Like, ever?”

          “Never.” I nodded. “Look, Greg. Before we go back out there, I need to know that you know that I don’t want anyone else but you.”

          “I do, it’s just…” He sighed. “It’s hard to believe, sometimes, like…I guess I’m okay, but I don’t think I’m that good-looking, comparatively, and I know I’m kinda skinny…”

          “Greg.” I groaned. “Remember how surprised you were that I was insecure about how I look? That’s how I feel right now.”

          “Yeah, I guess so.” He nodded. “Okay. I believe you. On one condition, though.”

          “And what’s that?” I raised an eyebrow.

          “You’ve gotta do that again.”

          “Deal.” I shook his hand, grinning goofily up at him. He took my face in his hands and kissed me, long and sweet, before pulling back.

          “We don’t have to go sit with my old friends.” I said. “I didn’t really want to, I just said yes to get rid of Theo.”

          “Are you sure?”

          “Yes, absolutely. I don’t know if I would call them friends, really, acquaintances would be more accurate.” I unlocked the bathroom door and peeked out. The coast was relatively clear, so Greg and I snuck out together, back into the crowd once again.

          We managed to steer clear of anyone I knew for the rest of our time there, downing more drinks, dancing stupidly, making out in the middle of the crowd on the dance floor. Essentially, being an annoying couple, obviously obsessed with each other, and we didn’t care. In the early hours of the morning, once we finally got tired, he called us a car, where we made out some more in the backseat, barely managing to keep our clothes on until we made it back to his apartment. There, we made it to the elevator before we were on each other again, stumbling out once the doors reopened onto his floor, and then we somehow made it down the hall to his room and onto the bed.

          He pushed my panties to the side, testing me with his fingers, and I moaned into his mouth.

          “I’m ready,” I pulled back, breathless, our foreheads pressed together. My hands worked him out of his pants, quickly, and then he was in me. No condom flashed quickly through my mind, but I was on birth control, so I hoped that either he’d have the sense to pull out, or my body wouldn’t betray me for this one indiscretion. If not, there was always Plan B.

          “You like that?” He asked, his hands on my wrists, holding me down. He knew by now how my body reacted to light domination, and he’d gotten quite competent at it. “You like me fucking you?”

          “Yeah,” I whimpered, wrapping my legs around him, angling myself upwards. He let go of my wrists and held my legs up instead, hitting deeper inside of me. I threw my head back, each of my fists gripping a handful of his sheets. My moans filled the room, mixing with the sounds of our bodies colliding.

          “I love you,” He groaned, and before I could wrap my head around the words, he pulled out, sending a spray of cum across my stomach. I let him catch his breath, coming down from his high.

          “I’m gonna get something, for the, um…be right back.” He scooted off the bed and disappeared for a moment, coming back with a towel to clean me up. He flipped on one of the bedside lamps and began very intently wiping his cum off of me. I propped myself up on my elbows, watching him.

          “Thanks.” I gave him a smile as he dropped the towel into his laundry basket, then slowly made his way back over to the bed. He looked a little shy, and I could guess why, so I gave him a little encouragement, patting the bed next to me. He sat back down, and I pressed a kiss to his cheek, resting my chin on his shoulder.

          “So, about um…well, what I said…” He started.

          “It’s because I finally gave you a blowjob, huh?” I teased, and to my relief, he chuckled.

          “No, no, it’s not that.” He smiled. “I, um…well, I do.”

          “You do what?”

          “Come on,” He laughed, and I drew back, giving him a kiss, feeling the smile on his lips.

          “I love you, too.” I pulled back slightly, speaking the words onto his lips. “If you meant it, of course.”

          “I did—I do.” He stammered. “I love you.”

          “It feels nice to hear it, and to finally say it.” I kissed him again, then drew back to take in his face: slightly flushed, his pupils blown out, sweat at his brow. “I fucking love you, sweetheart.”

          “I love you.” He said again, whispering it out, as though he was feeling the weight the words carried.

          We were mostly silent after that, kissing slowly in the dark, the lights of the city coming in through the windows, the sounds of late-night traffic filtering up from the street below. Together, we slipped into a comfortable, deep sleep, wrapped around each other. I certainly hadn’t expected the night to go like this, but at some point I’d have to realize that Greg somehow always found a way to subvert my expectations.

#hbo succession #succession #succession fanfic #succession imagine #greg hirsch #greg hirsch x reader #succession x reader #x reader #gregory hirsch #x reader smut

[sillylittlestoryblog]

Meet cute

Greg Hirsch x Reader

Warnings: its cheesy romcom stuff, english isnt my first language, this isnt canon to succession at all, might be somewhere season one but shiv is working at waystar, use of y/n

Fluff nothing more.

Summary: Reader is Shivs assistant and has to bring some secret documents to Toms new assistant. He is your bosses cousin and has been working at waystar only for a few weeks. You are more than curious to meet him.

Notes: i loveeee succession and i love Cousin Greg the egg. I am not ready for it all to end. And damn the last episode is gonna air one day before my birthday. Another reason to cry at my birthday…it happens every year. Also none of my friends are into succession ( such bad friends ) so if you want to be my succession bestie pls dm me. Thx for reading this. And if you like it, just so you know, comments are like long hugs to writers :)

A loud knock on your office door interrupted your work. For hours you sat on the same boring documents and your head was literally glowing. The day had not started very well. After you arrived late at the trainstation and had missed your train, you felt you already knew that today would be awful. As you walked out into the New York winter air with cold ears, you almost collided with someone else. Why didn't this giant pay more attention to where he was going?

At Starbucks you quickly bought an overpriced coffee and two bagels. One for you and one for your boss. You had overslept and didn't really have time for breakfast and even though you were actually quite good at your job, you could get fired at any time. Waystar was not known for treating its employees well. The longer you worked there the more you hated the company. But you couldn't just quit. You have to pay rent and have enough money to keep you and your two cats alive. You needed that job. That means, that it happened more than often that you had to skip eating or sleeping. The main thing is that your boss has her hot coffee and snacks on her expensive coffee table every morning. And you need to do your job as her assistant perfectly, without ever being late.

But most mornings she wasn't even in the office. you could only wonder what happened to the cold coffee.

About four hours after you ran sweaty and red-headed to your little office to spend the next few hours in front of your computer, there was a loud knock on the door.

"Heyy, Good Morning Y/N. Nice to see you. Can you please bring these to my husband on the other floor. I have a meeting now. See you.“

And away she went again. Shiv Roy had handed you a pack of documents, at least thats what you thought it was. You read the word confidential printed on the envelope in red color. Even tho you were in the middle of something, you decided to take a break and bring that envelope to Shivs husband.

You weren't sure where it suddenly came from, but on the way to the elevator you got a little nervous. Not only because of Shiv's somewhat strange husband. Tom Wabsgans had given you the ick from the beginning. He was tall and rich, like almost every other man who worked here. And yes money can make people a bit peculiar. But Tom... he was on another level. You had once heard him yell at a co-worker for "breathing too loudly". Also, there were rumors going around that he offered to give some employees a fortune, if they would be his "human furniture" for a week. If anyone in this building would claim that Tom had a piece of meat cut out of his own body to eat as a steak, no one would be surprised. You least of all. He gave you a strange feeling every time. But your nervousness came from something else.

The day before, Inej, one of your best friends who used the office next to yours, had whispered to you at lunch that she had seen tom's new assistant. She had grinned and said:

"so if I wasn't already in a happy committed relationship with this awesome guy, I would have given him my number for sure. Fuck Y/N, he's really cute."

Since this talk you had caught yourself wanting to know more about this guy. Because cute wasnt how you would describe most guys who worked for Logan Roy. Most of them where sleazy, moneyhungry guys with big watches and tailored suits. They catcalled all the women who worked with you, honestly you hated their guts.

Inej had sent you a message the night before. She'd heard from two of Tom's coworkers that the assistant was probably part of the Roy family. A cousin or nephew or something. If this rumor was true, then it was definitely the hottest gossip in ages.

The elevator ride didn't take long and with the envelope in your hand you walked confidently towards Tom's office. You had already raised your hand to knock on his office.

But it should not come so far, from the side came a great force that almost made you fall. But before you could curse again the shitty "all women must wear high heels rule" and hit the floor, someone held you by your waist.

"Oh god sorry. Uh. I'm really sorry about that."

You had no idea how you could have almost been knocked over for the second time today. You were kinda getting angry. Why was this day so awful.

"oh fuck, can't you be more careful?!"

When you turned to the side you almost regretted your loud harsh tone.

In front of you stood a tall guy, brown hair, crooked tie and an apologetic and quiet adorable puppy look on his face.

„So, uh, i m sorry. Truly? uh…Truliest.“

You didnt really know how to respond. Damn that guy is tall.

„Wait, uh, are you Y/N? You know because i, uh , i didnt stalk you or something, i saw you on a photo, this coworker, uh, i think her name was Inej, she showed me a picture, like of you guys, and - well i just assumed that might be, uh, you? And i…“

„What?“

„I am Greg, i uh work for Tom, and yeah so yesterday- i talked to this wom…“

„No i get that part. You really need to look where you are going…Greg.“

You were putting on a little smile. Inej was right, he was cute, and apparently also very clumsy. And nervous?

Greg was tucking his hair behind his ear. He didnt looked that shocked anymore. A small smile creeping on his face.

Damn. You really liked that face.

„I am really sorry, Y/N. I kinda, uh, feel like i owe you something?“

You were blushing. Nervously you looked down. He is so tall he probably can’t see the blushing like that.

„Would you maybe give this to Tom?- its from Shiv. And probably important.“

You handed him the envelope. You could have sworn your hands touched. You felt like cringing. This feels like you are in a stupid romcom. Stop blushing and smiling this isnt pride and prejudice.

If you hadn’t looked down while being flustered, you could have witnessed Greg’s cheeks turning a little red too.

Nervously he gave you a thumbs up.

„ sure. Uh - and, eh, maybe i could buy you something for lunch? I don’t know… there is this really cool pizza place i always wanted to go, i … sorry, maybe you don’t even like pizza. Eh i just thought we could maybe go there? And i would pay - obviously. -Not because i am a man or something, uh like i am a feminist and i believe you could pay for yourself, but, uh i you know almost knocked you over because i didnt look where i was going…“

His nervous rambling continued. Your little smirk turned into a genuin smile.

„Hey Greg.“

„Uh yeah?“

„I would love that.“

On the way back to your office, you forgot how horrible this day started. With a smile on your face you pushed the button to go up. Entering the elevator you looked around, he was still standing where you left him. Grinning to himself. You saw him looking back up to search for your face, right when the elevator doors closed in front of you.

#greg hirsch x reader #nicholas braun #nick braun #succession #fanfic writer #gregory hirsch #greg the egg #succession hbo #succession fan fiction #shiv roy #tom wambsgans #fluff #l to the og #greg hirsch #cousin greg #logan roy #ao3 author

[usakogis]

tumblr deleted my post for some reason and i cant be bothered to type out everything i did before so blah blah roman roy playlist

enjoy!

#roman roy #succession #kendall roy #shiv roy #siobhan roy #logan roy #connor roy #stewy hosseini #tom wambsgans #gregory hirsch #greg hirsch #succession x reader #kendall roy x reader #roman roy x reader #can’t think of any more tags #Spotify

[starlightscythe]

Raining in Manila

Greg Hirsch x f!Reader

Also includes an instagram!AU (idk what it's called but I added some insta interactions)

Plot: you're the Chief of Financials at Waystar Royco and also Logan's Goddaughter, tasked to go with Greg to the Philippines to check up on the xerox business, not knowing some budding feelings will grow along the way.

Warnings: stressed!reader, will add more later.

P.S: purely written for Greg. Fuck Nicholas Braun, man. What a prick.

"So you're half Filipino? All this time?" Greg asked, trailing you from behind. Pushing your heavy baggage cart as you walk with hands free, clutching your phone with your right hand.

"I am 1/4th Filipino, Greg. My grandma, Nerie is the Filipino. Lucky wife to my Grandpa, Victor whose a European." You explained, steps hasty as you walk towards the exit of the NAIA airport.

Greg tried to catch up with you as best as he can with his long legs, pushing the heavy cart with force to walk side by side with you.

You were sent here by Logan to check the Xerox copy machine side business and to evaluate the profit and if it's still considered to be operational by income standards. Waystar is apparently looking to cut their losses even if it means a thousand people would lose their job just to pay off Peirce.

"That's interesting. So you speak the language? B-because you know, what if we got lost and none of us speak the language? Google Translate isn't exactly eh- exact?" He pushes his hair back, adjusting the sleeve of his suit, "Is it normally this hot here?"

"I told you to lose the suit dumbass. It's a tropical country- and you know what-" You paused, stoping by a souvenir shop a saw an English-Tagalog Dictionary, "learn the language while we're here."

Quickly purchasing the book and throwing it at him which he catches clumsily mid-air.

The ride to your hotel was short, doesn't help that Greg was complaing about the tropical heat and how he's sweating underneath his suit.

"Honeymoon?" The Uber driver asked. Smiling at you and Greg from the rear view mirror.

"Uh- oh- no. No. Just work- work mates. Happy workmates" He laughed, "here for work."

"On valentines day?" The driver raised his eyebrow.

"Yeah, unfortunately." You replied, pulling your lips in a tight line as you message an unresponsive Roman about the hotel reservation.

Exiting the Uber and going straight to the hotel lobby whilst Greg was left alone to unload your bags from the trunk. A couple minutes of waiting for him, he finally emerges besides you, tapping your shoulder lightly.

"Oh, took you long enough. Show them the reservation." You spoke, returning your attention to your phone.

Greg stood there confuse, pushing his hair back and wiping his sweat from his forehead, "What reservation? I thought Roman sent it to you?"

"I thought he sent it you?!" You whispered to him, "well, call Kendall and have him sort this out."

"Is there a problem?" The receptionist finally arrived in front of you.

You quickly turned to her and smiled, "no. No. We're all good. He's just sorting out the reservation paper. Such a klutz, this one."

"Well, Ma'am if you just have a name for the reservation and an I.D I can verify it even without the papers." She assured you.

Rummaging through your bag as Greg tried calling Kendall behind you. Taking out your Waystar employee I.D and showing it to her.

"Can you try, (Y/N) Abberdon? I think my collegue might've put it under my name."

The receptionist typed for a bit and shook her head, "we don't have that name in the system Ma'am. Is there any name? Maybe under the name of your collegue?" She gestured to Greg.

Grabbing the man by the I.D which dangled from one of those laces with the retractable strings. "What- hey!" Greg exclaimed, hand still on the ringing phone.

"Try Gregory Hirsch?" You desperately looked at her. The woman did the same thing only to looked up at you once again and shook her head.

Mentally punching Roman in your head at this point, "Ok well, we don't have his I.D but, Roman Roy?"

"I see a Roman Roiland but no Roman Roy, miss. I am sorry."

"Oh my god," You backed away from the reception desk, "I am sorry- just give me a minute" Excusing yourself. The woman nodded her head and returns to her work.

You grabbed Greg by the arm and dragged him away from the desk, looking up at him for an answer.

"They won't call back. I tried Kendall, Shiv, and Roman." He panicked, "I could try Tom?"

"Then try Tom." You deadpanned, "I am going to call Roman. But keep calling whoever is in that flip phone of yours Greg or I will throw that ancient thing in the trash."

"No need to be stres-"

"Don't tell me what to do." You suddenly flipped out at him, making him flinch, "I am- I am sorry. I am just stressed, you're right. This is not big deal. If we can't reach out to any of them we'll just have to book it ourselves."

Greg nods, "yeah. Ok. I'll keep trying to call Tom."

A couple more minutes of you guys looking like anxious rats on your phone trying to contact everyone. Greg finally got a hold of Tom over the phone.

"Tom! Oh thank God. Listen I am- we- yes me and (Y/N)- we're stuck in the Philippines- yeah- can you just- Is Roman with you?- oh- right- uhuh- well, here." Greg hands the phone to you.

You took it out of his hand, "Jesus I forgot how these things work," Fiddling with the flip phone for a bit, "Hello? Tom? What the fuck is going on? Where the fuck is everyone?"

"Enjoying your vacation with my assistant? That you stole by the way. How dare you?!"

"We're not on vacation, dipshit. What's happening over there? We can't get a hold of everyone and we're stuck in another country with no hotel reservation."

"Oh yeah, well. There's been an emergency and Shiv just told me you guys might be stuck in there for another week or two because they're using the private jet to go to the bahamas."

"What the fuck?!" You exclaimed, quickly returning back to your normal tone, "well can you atleast have Roman call me b-"

The phone suddenly crackles and Roman's voice was heard though the phone, "hey god-sis. Yeah listen, I did an oopsie and I kinda forgot to put in a reservation..."

"What's happening...?" Greg tried to ask but your head was running a million miles per minute.

One thing you hated was when plans didn't go as planned and mostly being stucked in another country where you barely speak the language and your American Express might not work.

You raised your hand out of frustration, an attempt to throw Greg's phone onto the ground. But he was quick to catch your arm with his tall physique, snatching his phone out of your hand.

"He-hey. Ok. How about you sit and calm down. Ok?" He tries to comfort you, "I'll handle this. I know you're stressed out so just relax. Ok?"

You nodded, sitting by the nearby sofa of the hotel lobby. Frantically typing into your phone whilst running a hand onto your hair out of frustration.

"Yeah- ok- I can manage that. Ok. Thanks- bye" Greg ends the call and sat on the couch parallel to yours, "ok so, we'll book a hotel and have it on the company card. Shiv said we could do whatever we want for the next two weeks as an apology for your distress and inconvenience. So...there you go. Don't stress ok? Cause youre kinda freaking me out too."

Slowly nodding as you bit your lip, preventing yourself from laughing at the distressed Greg as he sighed and lean back onto the white sofa, putting his earphone on to calm himself down. You sneakily took a picture of him and posted it on Instagram.

"Well I'll just see if they have a spare room available." You pull a tight smile , touching his shoulder as you move past him. Greg gives a nod in response.

"Hey," You greeted the receptionist again, "looks like my collegue might've missed it in his brain to book a reservation, is there a room available for two weeks? Two room separately...preferrably for me and him" Pointing at Greg behind you.

The receptionist tuts as she tapped at her keyboard for a bit, looking appologetic up at you, "sorry, looks like we're all fully booked at the moment. That's normal for valentines Day- oh wait- we have an opening for a honeymoon suite... I am afraid that's the only room available."

"Oh..." You scrunched your face. Scratching the back of your head in frustration, "is there like...another hotel?"

"Well you can try the love hotel from across the street but at valentines week I am afraid all of the hotel right now are fully booked too, miss."

Glancing at your watch, it reads 6:37 pm. And the jet lag was getting to your system. Not really wanting to go out there and dragging Greg around the block you were forced to weigh your options.

"Does it have a couch atleast?"

"Yes ma'am. But I am afraid it only has one bathroom."

"That's fine." You sighed, taking out your business card, "just do it. We're way too tired."

The woman apologized again as she took your card before handing you two keycards for the room. Telling you that your bags will be delivered in your room shortly.

Dragging your feet back to where Greg was, you handed him the other key card by shoving it in his face. Greg took it and read;

"Honeymoon suite?" He asked, looking up at you with wide eyes

"Yeah, not alot of options at valentines day, buddy." You scoffed at him, "you're welcome to run around the block for a new hotel room. They're all fully booked apparently. and I am too tired to argue for separate room. So either suck it up or get out."

Greg grunts in annoyance, standing up and following you anyways.

You turn back at him, "there's a love hotel full of jizz across the street. You're welcome to that"

"Uhuh, and if I get sick because of it, you'd have to be Tom's assistant for as long as it takes."

"He wishes, Greg"

#greg hirsch #Greg Hirsch x reader #cousin greg #succession #greg hirsch fluff #greg Hirsch fic #greg succession

[from-the-clouds]

selfless - greg hirsch / reader

masterlist 

summary: it’s a greg sickfic....what else could you want? inspired by this song. kind of/sort of a prequel to this fic. happens before the events of the show. 

warnings: a little angst at the end.

a/n: trying to work through an inbox full of requests right now, so please, please be patient with me if you sent one in :)

Can the dark side light my way out? Yeah Lay your hand across my face, yeah

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

Plates were cleared away from the table, dishes had been washed, some still lay drying on your countertop. But overall, you were content, fed, and you sank into the pillows of your couch alongside Greg, who had joined you for dinner. 

“That was good,” Greg said, arms wrapped around his shoulders as though he was giving himself a hug. “Thanks again for cooking for me.”

“Oh, well it’s the least I could do,” you glanced over at him, smiling as earnestly as you could. But you were never good at hiding concern. Your sweet friend, Greg, who you’d known since college, was out of work, out of money, and currently living out of his car. For the past few months, you’d done just about everything you could to try to get him employed. But nothing seemed to work, so the best you could offer now was a home-cooked meal, something you knew he probably hadn’t had in awhile.

You both settled on the couch, flicking on some trashy reality TV show, both of you watching absentmindedly. But really, you were delaying the inevitable – because you knew when Greg left tonight, he’d be sleeping in his car. It’d been freezing in the city lately, it was the dead of winter, and you only left your apartment when you absolutely had to, bundled in layers upon layers. The mental image of Greg trying to stay warm in his Prius, trying to sleep without being curled up in that little space – was rather unnerving.

Lost in an episode of Ghost Adventures, your favorite guilty pleasure TV show, you nearly forgot that your friend was with you until he spoke up suddenly. 

“Is there, uh,…like a draft in here? Like did you leave the window open or something?” Greg asked suddenly. Tearing your attention away from the TV, you looked over at him. 

He was still curled into himself, huddled in a sweatshirt that hung relaxed off his lanky form. You frowned. “No, I actually have the heat on. Are you cold?”

“Uh, I mean, yeah, like….maybe a little.”

“Oh I’m sorry, you should’ve said something.” you frowned, though you knew it wasn’t in his nature to ask for anything. “Here, have a blanket.”

“Oh you have one?” Greg nodded. “That might be nice.”

Producing one from a basket underneath your coffee table, your hand grazed Greg’s as you passed it over to him. It was cool, clammy, and you frowned, watching him wrap the blanket around his body. He looked….paler than usual. And his eyes, usually bright and expressive, were glassy, dull.

“Is there any chance you might be running a fever?” you asked, eyeing him wearily.

Greg looked back over at you from the TV, teeth chattering as he settled under the blanket. “Uh, I feel…I don’t think…I don’t think so. I’ve been kind of cold all day so like, no…probably not.”

“You’ve been cold all day?” you raised an eyebrow. You gestured for him to come close to you, and he did, as you pressed your palm to the side of his face gently. His eyes fluttered shut, you didn’t miss the way he leaned into the touch, like it was the most human contact he’d had in years. Maybe it was. You resisted the urge for probably the millionth time to push the piece of hair that had slipped from behind his ear, falling onto his forehead, out of his eyes. If he was yours, you might have. Unfortunately, he wasn’t.

But more pressing was what you were actually feeling. 

“Fuck, Greg, you’re burning up,” his skin was warm, flushed, and his eyes flickered open, glazed over and gazing up at you with concern. 

“Really?” he asked, one of his own hands rising to press on his opposite face. “I can’t tell.”

“Of course not,” you said softly. “I mean, let me get my thermometer to see for sure.”

Greg objected behind you, but you ignored him. If he was sick, that made his circumstances less than ideal. You returned, passing him the thermometer which he put in his mouth, and you waited in front of him with your arms crossed. After a minute had passed, and it beeped, you pulled it from between his lips. 

“101.4,” you read aloud. “So yeah, that’s….not great.”

“Fuck,” Greg murmured, and now that you were closer, noticed sweat beading along his hairline and along his upper lip. “I should go, like, I-I don’t want to get you sick.” He stood suddenly, swaying, swallowing hard, paling even more, if it were possible.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you soothed, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Sit down, it’s okay.” 

“Sorry,” he managed, head falling back against the back of the couch. “I’m like, lightheaded or something.”

“Why don’t you stay here, tonight?” you asked. “Take the bed, I’ll sleep out here.”

“No, I like, I can’t get you sick after you made me dinner, that’s like, rude. You’ve already done too much for me.”

“What are you gonna do, try to sleep it off in your car?” you asked, tone much more harsher than you’d meant for it to be. Greg’s face dropped at the quip, looking almost like you’d slapped him, hurt flashing over his features. Sighing, you lowered your voice. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry, I just worry about you.”

“It’s okay,” he answered, voice quiet. “I know.”

“Just stay here,” you assured him, squeezing his knee. “It’s not a big deal. And if it’s the same flu that’s going around right now, then I already had it like a month ago.”

Greg seemed to consider this, weighing the options in his head. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll make you some tea, get you a Tylenol,” you sat up from the couch, heading towards the kitchen, some deep instinct to protect and nurture igniting within you. You’d never felt it before, but you found it resurfacing consistently whenever you were around Greg. 

He was so sweet, so easygoing, and maybe a little hapless, but you found it endearing. For a person who generally meant well, you didn’t understand why he was always so down on his luck. And as someone who cared for him – maybe more than a friend should’ve, it was hard to watch. 

Busying yourself in the kitchen, you poured him some chamomile tea, and found a bottle of Tylenol PM. Accepting the beverage graciously along with the meds, Greg slumped back against the couch cushions.

The fever took him quickly, and before the meds hit, he began shivering. “Yeah, fuck, it’s like, so cold in here.”

“Why don’t you lie down in my room?” you asked. “The Tylenol will kick in soon, and you should get some rest.”

“Are you sure? Like, is that okay?” Greg asked. “I don’t want to sound selfish but like, I haven’t slept in a bed in awhile. It might be nice. Is that…?” 

You chuckled. “Greg, I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. Come on, I’ll tuck you in.”

Greg gave a laugh, one that sounded a little pinched. He followed you into your bedroom, and you peeled back the covers, turning a lamp on. Pulling his hoodie over his head, he tossed it on the floor. You retrieved it, folding it neatly and placing it on the top of your dresser. 

“Everything okay?” you asked him. “Here’s your tea, and a water. And the Tylenol in case you wake up and are still having chills.” You carefully set everything up on your bedside table. Greg nodded. 

Pulling the duvet up to his neck, you sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at him. “Is there anything else I can get for you?” 

Greg shook his head no. You nodded, reaching towards the lamp on your bedside table, when he spoke up again. 

“I’m a fuck up, aren’t I?” he asked.

“What?” you were so taken aback by the question that you didn’t even know how to answer.

“I just….I know I am. My mom…I don’t know…she thinks I am. She doesn’t say it but I can tell.”

“Greg, what?” you asked, still incredulous. “That’s not true.”

“No, I think she’s right. Can’t hold a job. Can’t do anything for myself. I mean, I like….I don’t even know why you keep me around. I’m useless.”

“Greg,” you sighed. “This is your fever talking. Those are terrible things to say about yourself.”

He shook his head, staring into space, avoiding your gaze. You’d never seen him so dejected, and he had lots of reasons to be lately. All the pressure from the last few months had finally caved in, collapsed. And here he was, sick and near tears beneath you. 

“Hey,” you shook him gently, leaning over to place your hand on the opposite side of his body. “I keep you around because you’re a good person. You’re smart. You’re resourceful. And friends take care of each other, even when things aren’t going well.” 

He turned his head back to look up at you. Giving into the urge, for once, you pushed that damn piece of hair off his forehead, tucking it behind his ear, your touch lingering just a tad longer than it should’ve. “You don’t need to worry about all that bullshit right now. I know you.”

You paused, a memory coming to mind of another time you’d given him a similar speech. “Remember that time in school when you were sooo convinced that you wouldn’t pass the one class you needed to graduate? You thought it was like, the end of the world and you were freaking out?”

Greg nodded, a smile quirking at the corners of his mouth. You continued. “And you pulled it together. You ended up like, acing the final, you did better than I did, I think!”

He snorted, shaking his head at the memory.

“You’re going to be fine. You’re going to figure it out, you always do,” you said, voice surprisingly tender.

The feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours startled you. “Thank you,” he croaked, squeezing your hand. If he wasn’t sick, you might have kissed him. You wanted to kiss him, fever be damned. But you didn’t. Instead, you squeezed his hand in return, leaning forward and hugging him tightly. His warm cheek pressed against your neck, his hand rising up from under the duvet to pull you closer. You were pretty much guaranteeing yourself another bout of the flu, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. 

Finally, you pulled away, clicking the lamp beside him off.

“Now you let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“I will.” 

Carefully you shifted your weight off the bed, able to navigate the familiar room in the dark. You closed the door behind you and curled up on the couch, until you drifted off.

#greg hirsch #succession #greg hirsch x reader #succession writing #sickfic #uhhhhhhh this is just soft and fluffy please enjoy #cousin Greg #cousin greg x reader #gregory hirsch x reader #gregory hirsch

[creepling]

i want to hold you - greg hirsch x gn!reader

summary: greg pays a visit to his old college friend, feeling the stress of work and family struggles. more specifically, he is in desperate need for comfort, and the reader longingly provides.

pairing: gregory hirsch x gn!reader

word count: 2.4K

warnings: mild drug mention, mild use of alcohol.

It is not often you get a frantic phone call from your old college friend. I hadn't spoken to Gregory Hirsch since our graduation, and yet he still had my phone number back when I use to buy weed off him. I didn't know whether to be flattered or creeped out; I liked the idea of him still remembering me. Sure, I am aware he is related to one of the most wealthiest families in America -- if not the world -- since he liked to bring it up randomly to new aquaintences back in the day. When we graduated, he said he was going to go off and work for the Roys; make the big bucks and become one of those coke-sniffing, pin-striped suit pricks that run the world. Yet, when Greg called me at almost midnight, he didn't sound that well off. He sounded desperate. So, I let my sympathy get the best of me and invited him to my house.

He arrived at my apartment an hour later, his suit was wrinkled and his long winter coat was damp from the dribbles of rain. He had a frantic look on his face, his fingers combed through his slick, wet hair.

"(Y/N)!" He gave me a smile, and as if contagious, I smiled back at him.

"Greg, hey. Come on in." I made sure to be quiet at this hour, peaking my eyes out the to hallway to watch for nosey neighbours.

Greg made his way inside, kicking his pointed, fancy dress shoes at my door, grunting under his breath. He rubbed his foot and twirled his ankles, he must have been running, or walking for miles. The more distressed I seen him, the more curious I was of what he was up to.I invited him to sit on the couch. "Sorry for the mess, if I knew you were coming earlier I would have made time to clean"

Greg scanned the walls of my apartment admirely, shaking his head. "No no, don't worry. I like your place. It's uh- homey; welcoming; it's n-nice."

I tried to hide my smile at his demeanor, it was good to see he was still his awkward self. In college, that made him a target for crude pranks and bullies, but I always found it quite redeeming. Cute, even.

I rushed to my small, semi-detached kitchen, hoping my sudden movement would distract him from seeing the stupid, bashful look on my face. "So uuh . . . would you like a drink? I have beers, half a bottle of rum and Dr. Pepper?"

"A beer sounds good, yeah!" Gregory called, dressing my second-hand armchair with his scarf and messenger bag. He hung his damp coat at the doorway, forgetting to take it off earlier. By the time he entered the living room, I had my hand stretched out with an open beer bottle. He thanked me for the beer, taking a long drag of it, pointing the bottom of the bottle to the ceiling, then dragging it back down, smacking his lips at the taste.

"I haven't had a beer in so long." He sighed.

That statement made me frown, until I observed his clothes. They looked rich, a perfectly tailored suit, a rolex on his left wrist, his cufflinks winking under the dull, warm lighting in my apartment. 

"I bet your used to drinking scotches older than your grandpa." I remarked, taking a sip of my drink, irony washing over me as the cheap rum and Dr. Pepper tasted like sewage on my tongue.

Greg laughed down at his feet. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."As I stared at the look on his face, sensing doubt within his pale eyes and twitching mouth, I cut to the chase. "What brings you here after all these years, Greg?"

I watched the lump in his throat bob as he swallowed. He ran another shaken hand through his hair, for the hair to fall back at the side of his face, curtaining one side of his temple and the other half showcased small sideburns. That was the only thing different about him since college, his haircut. No receeding hairline in sight, even with us pushing our thirties. In college, his dark hair fell over his forehead and eyebrows; I always thought it made him look young. Now, he looks so mature, I even wondered if he grew a few more inches. Not that he needed to, he was always so tall, you could spot him a mile away. His tall, slender figure towered over me, yet I didn't find it intimidating. I only felt the old feelings that were slowly coming back. My gaze still admirable, longing, devoted.

"I'm in some big trouble, (Y/N)." His voice was faint, I almost couldn't hear him. His eyes looked panicked. I beckoned him to the couch, inviting him to sit with me, talk to me, tell me everything.

And that he did. He told me everything. He told me how he lived off his mother after graduation, then his phase of homelessness, then how he came to be working for the Roy family. I expected the job with the Roys, but the rest came as a shock. Turns out, Logan Roy completely forgot he had a great-nephew, and it took a long time to convince him to consider Greg as part of the familly business.

"I've done some terrible things. Stuff that'd get me locked up forever. And now I'm working for one of the most unreliable news channels in America," Greg said.

"I mean -- I hate to be rude, Greg. But what did you expect when you got involved with them? The Roy's are infamous assholes," I said.

"I just wanted to work in the theme parks. Y'know like . . . be a manager or something. But here I am shredding important documents and getting verbually abused by in-laws!" His voice grew panicked, as if he was about to cry. He didn't shed a tear, instead he let out a long sigh and buried his face into his hands.The whole rich-life troubles was completely out my depth, so I only said one thing, "Well . . . At least the pay is good, yeah? You're getting paid stacks meanwhile I'm having to cope with cold, sleepless nights and skipping meals to pay bills."

"I ate a songbird! A deep-fried songbird! Y'know rich people do that? It's some weird delicacy and it doesn't even taste good!"

When Greg realised how tone death that sounded, he lifted his head from his hands and gave me an apologetic smile. It was so awkward and endearing that I couldn't help but smile and laugh, and the sound of my giggles made Greg's eyes glisten in a way I didn't expect.

I broke his gaze, taking another drink of my rum, yet I felt his stare on me. My cheeks were burning, I hoped it was just the alcohol forming my flusters.

"I wish I had someone like you in the office. Would make it less stressful." Greg admitted. I looked over to him to see what he meant by that, and all he did was present a genuine stare.

"I wouldn't be cut out to work in a place like that." I convinced.

"Yeah but, sitting in the office somedays made me think of you" Greg confessed, then added, "--and college" to make it sound less creepy. Subconsciously, I yearned for him to think of me. Like I thought of him on the days that suited. It was the little things that reminded me of him. California Pizza Kitchen, when we went there whenever we had money. Coffee shops reminded me of our study dates, cramming for exams and pulling all nighters to write assignments.

"I remember how smart you are and how much you helped me pass my exams. So, sometimes I think of you helping me in the office, like you use to. That's all." Greg admitted. I was so flattered by his words, but I attempted to keep my face neutral.

"You're smarter than you think, Greg. You helped yourself, I just had to give you a nudge." I admitted, taking another sip of my drink.

Greg gave a simple nod. We sat in a comfortable silence, until I offered him another beer. He'd drank about three by now throughout our conversation, but he nodded his head to another. As I fetched another beer and topped up my drink, I heard the ruffles of fabric. 

Returning to the couch, I observed Greg. He had loosened his tie and took off his suit jacket, which tapestried the arm of the couch. He suddenly became more recgonisable; his hair now dry from the rain, a little messy and hugging close to his ears. He rolled up his sleeves and I got a better look at his watch as his left hand took the beer from my hand.

"How much did that cost you?" I teased.

"Don't even ask." He mumbled into the beer bottle. I chuckled and sat back next to him, getting closer to him than before. He leaned back onto the couch, meeting my eyes again. There was something about him now that looked different, maybe I was just tipsy, but as I stared at his relaxed state, his ruffled hair and his immensive hands resting upon his thighs, I couldn't help but think he looked very hot. Maybe he was just tipsy too, but fuck, the look in his eye.

I immediately looked away, hiding my face into my whiskey glass as I took another drink. He looked away also, stretching his hand behind to rub the back of his neck. His eyes looked beyond as if there was an interesting fly buzzing in the room. I cleared my throat, the thickness of the rum and soda coating my mouth.

Greg broke the silence, "I should say, thank you for letting me stop by, I am very appreciative."

"It's cool, you're always welcome." I said, then I glanced at my phone for the time. "Jeez, it's almost 3am. Wanna just stay the night?"

"Oh, I shouldn't. That would be rude of me. I can get a cab-"

"Don't be silly. I can take the couch, it's quite comfortable to sleep on." I reassured.

"Yeah . . . You're couch is really comfy," Greg grinned, pressing a fist down on the cushioned seat.

-

Once I made my bed and cleaned out my dirty laundry, it was ready for Greg to sleep in. I grabbed extra blankets and pillows from the hall closet and set up my slumber. Greg came into the living room one last time and wished me goodnight, turning off the lights as I lay on the couch.

My eyes were closed, but I wasn't asleep. I shifted restlessly, moulding my body into the couch so find a comfortable spot. Hugging a pillow close to me. I wore an old button up that was way too big for me, it's collar tickling my jawline. I could smell my laundry detergent lingering within the fabric. It looked a lot like the shirt Greg wore, and I wondered if his felt as soft as mine. I imagined wearing his shirt instead of my own, I thought of his scent, was it natural? Does it smell like an expensive cologne? I shut my eyes tight, mentally scolding myself for thinking this.

A door opened, it sounded like my own. I kept my eyes shut, betting it was Greg awoken, searching for a glass of water or heading to the bathroom. I heard no refrigerator open, I heard no bathroom door locked. I only felt the covers slowly be pulled off me, and a soft familiar voice beckon my name.

I opened my eyes to Greg, loomering over me, crouched down to my laying level. I frowned in surprise, about to ask him if everything's okay. I was cut short, my breath fell short, as he placed his hand benevolently upon my cheek.

"Come to bed with me." He whispered.

"Greg, you-"

"I want to hold you." He confessed, his voice still hushed. "I mean- I just want you close, that's all. Is that okay?"

Stunned, I just stared at him, I didn't know what to say. I couldn't break from his gaze. He took this time to gently lift me from the couch, his hands grasping my arms and lifting me up. As I got to my feet, Greg pressed his body against mine, his hands hesitating to wrap around my waist. I was eventually able to nod my head, I nodded my head repeatedly. From my consent, he lead me to my bedroom, his hands on mine. I wondered what possessed his shy manner to do this, to beckon me to him. Maybe it was the drink, maybe it was the stress from work. I had no idea what to think of it. I wasn't thinking of it at all, I was only feeling it. Feeling his touch on my bare skin as her ran his fingers under my sleeves and stroked my arms, then taking a gentle grip of them to bring me into his embrace as we fell under the bed covers.

My head rested on his chest, he still wore his under-shirt, the fabric brushed against my cheek as our bodies shaped within each other. His arms wrapped around me, each hand on either side on my waist. He buried his face into my hair, his nose tickled my temple. His breath traveled to my ear and I was completely encumbered by him. He began to leave small kisses on the side of my face, behind my ear, at the nip of my neck. I was convinced I was going to melt at this point.

"What's this for?" I whispered hushly. I couldn't contain my smile.

"I just want to hold you, that's all." He mumbled into my neck.

"That's okay." I reassured.

We let the flow of our affections speak as words. He played with my hair and rubbed my back, I traced words on his chest and kissed his shoulders. Our eyes heavy, we did not sleep until it engulfed us.I wanted to hold him forever.

#this is soooooo fucking long im so sorry i got carried away #but heyy first greg piece!! more shall come soon lmao #greg hirsch #greg hirsch x reader #succession #succession fic #succession x reader #nicholas braun #nicholas braun x reader

[wambsgansshoelaces]

hi, i think u did a similar one already but could i get a hc on how succession characters react to their s/o crying? about feeling sad , or stressed , or losing a loved one , idk , just something mildly serious. i wasn't feeling great today and i started crying and my sister told me to stop crying and was like mean af to me and i could use some gentleness and affection :|

aw anon im so sorry :( I know I’m really late with this but I hope you’re doing much better <3 I’m always here for you in my ask box or pms!! your sister is an asshole you can cry whenever you want all of your emotions are valid and I love u u are so worthy

I hope these make you feel happy <3 enjoy x

serious issues (succession main cast)

Kendall

ᝰ when he notices your mood is off, he immediately goes solemn

ᝰ while if it were something smaller, he’d leave it and let you come up and talk to him on your own

ᝰ but he can tell it’s bad

ᝰ and he’s not going to let you stew in this by yourself

ᝰ he will help you

ᝰ whether you want him to or not

ᝰ he gets you a glass of water

ᝰ and forces you to drink

ᝰ then sits you down and makes you tell him what’s wrong

ᝰ when you do

ᝰ rather, when you burst into tears in his arms

ᝰ he can’t help but feel horrible

ᝰ he cradles your face in his hands and kisses away your tears

ᝰ he apologizes over and over

ᝰ he’s rubbing your back the entire time you tell him what’s going on

ᝰ “cry it all out. i’m right here.”

ᝰ he talks you through it

ᝰ he’s cosplaying his therapist

ᝰ if it was a death, he gets the name of where the service will be held and pays for it in secret

ᝰ over the next few weeks, you can just show up in his office and cry on his shoulder

ᝰ and he won’t ask any questions

ᝰ he always lets you

ᝰ the night you tell him, he keeps an arm hooked around you, keeping your head to his chest

ᝰ he plays with your hair and strokes soothing patterns into your skin for the rest of the night

ᝰ as you recover emotionally, he makes sure to check in on you

ᝰ even long after the incident, you both make sure that you have no bullshit check ins with each other

ᝰ “how are you really”s

ᝰ he makes it clear to you that he will always support you

ᝰ and you’re glad

Roman

ᝰ not really the best with words

ᝰ or emotions

ᝰ or being serious

ᝰ however

ᝰ the only time(s) he is 100% serious is when you’re severely upset

ᝰ the first time it happens, it’s like he stops breathing

ᝰ “hey, come here. something’s wrong. i need to know what.”

ᝰ you tell him

ᝰ it’s the hardest you’ve ever cried

ᝰ the entire time, he grips your hand, gently stroking the back of it with his fingers

ᝰ he’s never been more focused on anything in his life

ᝰ he wishes he could help talk you through it, but he’s physically incapable

ᝰ so what he does is murmur a few comforting words then take you out on a boat ride

ᝰ because of course he has a miniature yacht on call

ᝰ “you can relax, take your mind off everything. i’ll take care of things, don’t worry.”

ᝰ the rest of the day is spent the two of you cuddled together, looking out over the water

ᝰ he doesn’t say anything

ᝰ he feels bad because he doesn’t know how to help you sort through your emotions

ᝰ because god knows he can’t

ᝰ so instead, he spends every waking moment with you, at your beck and call

ᝰ regardless, he’d do anything for you

ᝰ incident or not

ᝰ he listens to you when you talk, of course

ᝰ he just can’t give you any sound advice

ᝰ the nights on the boat, when you’re at your most vulnerable, he makes sure you fall asleep before he does

ᝰ so that he can kiss you to sleep

ᝰ and make sure you fall asleep soundly, feeling safe

ᝰ he’ll never be happy unless you’re happy

Shiv

ᝰ she notices something’s wrong, but doesn’t say anything at first

ᝰ when you don’t come to her at all and instead stay holed up in your room, that’s when she knows something is really wrong

ᝰ she crawls up onto the bed with you, and you feel her hands smooth up your back

ᝰ “what’s wrong? tell me.”

ᝰ does not leave you alone until you do

ᝰ listens intently

ᝰ literally memorizes what you’re saying so that she can help fix things

ᝰ the entire time you’re speaking, she massages at your skin to soothe you

ᝰ and it works

ᝰ thumbs away your tears when they fall

ᝰ she refuses to let you go through this alone

ᝰ she helps talk through your issues

ᝰ nonstop reassuring you that everything you’re feeling is perfectly valid

ᝰ and telling you that if you’re upset, she’s upset

ᝰ and that she’ll stop at nothing to make you happy again

ᝰ in all honesty, she’s extremely inexperienced with cooking and baking

ᝰ but she figures it out just for you

ᝰ she makes you a fudge with strawberries and raspberries frozen into it

ᝰ and it’s surprisingly really good

ᝰ your tears ease as the two of you eat together in bed

ᝰ you’re still sniffling when she gently urges you to lay your head in her lap

ᝰ even when you’re this upset, she’s utterly mesmerized by you

ᝰ your lips when you chew, your cheeks, the plush of your thighs as your pajama shorts hike up your legs

ᝰ “i know it’s hard, babe. i’m here. i’m not leaving.”

ᝰ and she doesn’t

ᝰ she’s at your side for the rest of both your lives

ᝰ she holds your hand through all of your difficulties

ᝰ she always listens, always helps you with your issues

ᝰ she’ll never, ever, let you suffer on your own

ᝰ she wishes she could take your pain from you

ᝰ you’re her sun and moon

Tom

ᝰ the personification of a massive teddy bear

ᝰ when you’re upset, he’s in SHAMBLES

ᝰ he swears he can feel your pain

ᝰ he soothes you every way he knows how

ᝰ he keeps you close, rubbing his hands up and down your sides

ᝰ he makes you your favorite meals

ᝰ refuses to let you do any chores

ᝰif it was a death, he organizes these massive baskets to be delivered to everyone affected

ᝰ and the biggest one goes to you

ᝰ it has all of your favorite sweets, a bouquet of beautiful flowers, a blanket

ᝰ and a love letter detailing how you’re the strongest person he knows

ᝰ and that he loves you more than anything

ᝰ of course, he gives you space if you ask for it

ᝰ but he’s always concerned for you anyway

ᝰ he gives you your time to recover while slowly helping you along

ᝰ after a couple weeks of leaving you be and taking care of you at home, he starts making you go out with him

ᝰ “we’re getting you used to things again.”

ᝰ he stays at your side through all of it

ᝰ will always let you vent to him

ᝰ and always does his best to give you advice and help you through your issues

ᝰ every night is spent the two of you chatting about your days

ᝰ making sure the other is really okay

ᝰ his arms are always warm

ᝰ your bed even more so

ᝰ he always makes sure you’re feeling warm and fuzzy

ᝰ he just loves you so much

ᝰ he’ll never let you go cold

Greg

ᝰ when you start freaking out, he also starts freaking out

ᝰ but he gets himself together

ᝰ because you’re a big deal to him

ᝰ and he loves you

ᝰ so he’ll do everything he can to help you

ᝰ in his own way, of course

ᝰ he honestly sucks at talking you through things

ᝰ but he listens to you

ᝰ he loves listening to you

ᝰ after you tell him what’s going on, he pulls you into his arms

ᝰ he just hugs you for a while

ᝰ he doesn’t let go until you do

ᝰ and you only do that to go to the bathroom

ᝰ when you come back, he has a favorite movie of yours pulled up on the tv

ᝰ “why don’t we watch? I think you could use the brain break. relaxing is good for you.”

ᝰ he keeps you pulled tight against him

ᝰ softly stroking your hair, your neck, your shoulder

ᝰ he’s just hoping your mood is shifting

ᝰ which it is

ᝰ he’s not the best with words

ᝰ and he’s not exactly sure if what he’s doing is helping

ᝰ but bottom line, you know he cares

ᝰ and he wants to help, needs to help you

ᝰ he spends the next few days doing his best to make you feel loved

ᝰ he makes you lunch to take with you to work

ᝰ he makes sure your favorite snacks are always stocked in the pantry

ᝰ always asks things along the lines of “do you want coffee? iced tea? I’ll make anything for you” even though he doesn’t know how to cook or bake anything

ᝰ but he figures it out

ᝰ because the only thing that makes him happy is you

ᝰ and he’ll fucking die if he sees you crying again and he can’t help you

ᝰ his world revolves around you

ᝰ and he loves it that way

Stewy

ᝰ honestly, you being so viscerally upset puts him off

ᝰ his world falls off balance

ᝰ demands you tell him everything

ᝰ keeps your face sandwiched between his hands as you talk

ᝰ his eyes never leave yours

ᝰ he nods, makes soothing noises

ᝰ “okay, here’s what we’ll do. we’re going to go have fun tonight.”

ᝰ he takes you out for dinner

ᝰ the entire night he’s just like eyeing you trying to see if you’re still upset

ᝰ in reality, he’s just a smooth talker

ᝰ he has no idea how to actually get serious

ᝰ so now his efforts are put into making you feel better

ᝰ when you pick at your food, he takes your hand

ᝰ and tries to be profound

ᝰ “I know I kind of suck at this whole handling things seriously thing, but I want you to know I’ll listen to anything- everything you have to say. I don’t… you’re not going through this alone, is what I’m trying to tell you.”

ᝰ it comes out really messy

ᝰ but it’s obvious he cares

ᝰ it’s obvious he loves you

ᝰ and that in of itself makes you feel leagues better

ᝰ you decide to walk off your dinner

ᝰ you both take a stroll, hand in hand, through the streets

ᝰ the night chill is strangely calming

ᝰ but you know that’s just stewy, not actually the chill that’s making you feel at ease

ᝰ “we can try stargazing tonight.”

ᝰ “stew, all I can see when I look up is smoke.”

ᝰ because you literally live in new york

ᝰ where rats live everywhere rent free

ᝰ “we’ll just have to drive out somewhere, then.”

ᝰ he actually does

ᝰ the two of you end up in a bit of a rural area sitting in the trunk of his car

ᝰ he spread out blankets and brought pillows and everything

ᝰ he even stopped at a gas station to get you both slushees

ᝰ in the gas station you both mixed flavors

ᝰ and he keeps stealing from you

ᝰ but it’s okay

ᝰ you’re leaning against him, his fingers are in your hair

ᝰ “I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.”

ᝰ “you’re helping me lots.”

ᝰ you give him a kiss

ᝰ “your lips are all blue, stewy.”

ᝰ “the blue raspberry is just really good…”

ᝰ you turn back to the stars

ᝰ but his eyes aren’t even on the stars anymore

ᝰ they’re on you

ᝰ and if he had it his way, they’d never leave you again

#succession headcanons #kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #roman roy #roman roy x reader #siobhan roy #siobhan roy x reader #tom wambsgans #tom wambsgans x reader #gregory hirsch #gregory hirsch x reader #stewy hosseini #stewy hosseini x reader #succession #succession hbo #succession x reader #anon ask #wambsgansshoelaces

[wambsgansshoelaces]

Could you maybe do a headcanon on succession S/O who still sleep with a stuffed animal? 😭

remember the stuffed animal I won in vegas that I named jeremey? he’s in bed with me every night LOL

thank you for requesting anon, I love you very much <3 I hope you love it!! I think this is my favorite headcanon drabble I’ve written :) enjoy xx

stuffed animal (succession main cast)

Kendall

ᝰ when you first move in, your stuffie makes its presence known on the bed you and ken share

ᝰ ken obsessively makes the bed every morning

ᝰ so he comes back from work and sees the stuffie perched on top of the folded back duvet

ᝰ “who’s this?” he asks, climbing onto the couch next to you

ᝰ you notice your stuffie cradled in his arms

ᝰ he leans into you and holds it out in front of you both

ᝰ you tell him the plushie’s name

ᝰ and you talk about how you’ve just always had it

ᝰ and it helps you when it’s around

ᝰ he pats the thing on the head

ᝰ you both settle into living with each other

ᝰ it’s the happiest you’ve ever been

ᝰ and as the years go by, you get engaged, then married

ᝰ and your collection of stuffed animals grows and grows

ᝰ whenever he leaves you for more than a day at a time, he comes back home with a stuffed animal for you

ᝰ among other things, anyway

ᝰ and years and years later, when he has your kids cradled in his lap, he tells them the story of each and every plushie in the house

ᝰ because he remembers them all

ᝰ the first one that came with you, and then every single one he bought you after it

Roman

ᝰ at first he thinks it’s weird

ᝰ and he makes fun of you

ᝰ but he doesn’t actually think of you any differently

ᝰ “it’s an emotional support thing, ro.”

ᝰ and he gets that

ᝰ he doesn’t actually mean anything mean that he says

ᝰ honestly he isn’t even mean about it

ᝰ he loves you very much; he just takes every opportunity to tease you

ᝰ one night, though, you come home from work really, really late

ᝰ roman’s already snoring softly in bed

ᝰ usually you both stay up for each other so you can fall asleep together, cuddled up

ᝰ but it’s so late you’d texted him earlier and urged him to go to bed

ᝰ reluctantly, you had

ᝰ you change, wash your face, brush your teeth

ᝰ you get into bed with him, doing your best to press up against him

ᝰ but then you realize he already has something in his arms

ᝰ it’s your little stuffie

ᝰ and he’s clutching it, nose buried in its head

ᝰ your heart warms

ᝰ you feel all warm and fuzzy watching him like this

ᝰ so of course you get your phone and take a picture

ᝰ it’s your wallpaper for the foreseeable future

ᝰ the next morning, when you have to leave for work, you make your way to his home office to say goodbye

ᝰ he gives you a kiss

ᝰ and you notice his new best friend perched in his lap

ᝰ it’s no longer your stuffie, it’s his

Shiv

ᝰ she never really said anything about it

ᝰ she doesn’t really *think anything about it

ᝰ it’s not like it interferes with your relationship

ᝰ she knows it relaxes you

ᝰ so one day she comes home with a stuffed animal of her own

ᝰ “it’s cute,” you tell her as she sits in bed with you that evening

ᝰ “i thought yours could use a friend.”

ᝰ she kisses your cheek

ᝰ “i also just want to know what it’s like,” she admits, holding it to her stomach

ᝰ you laugh

ᝰ now it’s a cute thing between the two of you

ᝰ even on work trips, your two plushies sit waiting for you on the hotel bed

ᝰ side by side, attached at the hip at this point

ᝰ just like you and her are

ᝰ most of the time, neither of you are really using the stuffies

ᝰ you’re just cuddling each other

ᝰ sometimes with one caught between you two

ᝰ but most of the time they kind of just sit with you

ᝰ but you have no complaints

ᝰ even when you and her are old and wrinkly, and the plushies don’t sit in bed with you, they’re proudly displayed side by side on top of one of your dressers

ᝰ it’s a running gag in your relationship

ᝰ but it’s not even a gag

ᝰ because you both love the stuffies dearly

ᝰ because they remind you of your other half

Tom

ᝰ he thinks it’s cute

ᝰ he thinks you’re cute

ᝰ when he first sees it, despite whether it has a name or not, he tells you it looks like a “mr. cheezit”

ᝰ “how can anyone look like a ‘mr. cheezit’?” you ask him

ᝰ he shrugs

ᝰ “he just does. why do you have him, anyway?”

ᝰ “i dunno. he helps me sleep.”

ᝰ he nudges your hip with his

ᝰ “you need another man to sleep?” he asks teasingly

ᝰ now he has a personal vendetta against mr. cheezit

ᝰ not really

ᝰ but it’s really funny

ᝰ the two of you are laying in bed together one morning, having a lazy day in

ᝰ he has an arm around you, his hand stroking up and down your back

ᝰ in your sleep, mr. cheezit had ended up on tom’s side of the bed

ᝰ when he notices, he scoffs

ᝰ “this guy again,” he murmurs to you, “i can’t get rid of him.”

ᝰ you laugh

ᝰ tom kisses absentmindedly at your brow

ᝰ “i’m being serious! he’s trying to steal you from me, i know it,” he says faux-seriously

ᝰ “i wouldn’t leave you, tom.”

ᝰ “he’s going to try and kill me one day, just wait.”

ᝰ obviously, he doesn’t

ᝰ mr. cheezit is the first stuffed animal your firstborn gets

Greg

ᝰ doesn’t really care when your stuffie joins you both when you go to bed

ᝰ he literally has a closet of all his childhood stuffed animals

ᝰ and is emotionally attached to all of them

ᝰ “my mom keeps trying to convince me to get rid of them, but i just physically can’t,” he tells you

ᝰ so now all the stuffed animals are on rotation

ᝰ a different one is with you both each night

ᝰ sometimes before you fall asleep, greg’ll tell you about how he got the night’s stuffie

ᝰ most of the time it was from an arcade

ᝰ he tells you about how he’s always wanted those giant stuffed animals they only put as prizes for the rigged games

ᝰ so while you don’t think you’ll ever be able to actually win one from a game, you can get one off amazon

ᝰ the next day, you surprise him with a massive squishmallow

ᝰ “i think i’m going to die,” he says seriously

ᝰ he gives you a sweet kiss in thanks

ᝰ instead of your pillows, now you sleep on the squishmallow

ᝰ it honestly feels much better

ᝰ like your sleep is always heavenly

ᝰ farther down the line, after you both get married and you move, greg tells you he thinks it’s time to get rid of some of the stuffies

ᝰ obviously he doesn’t even THINK of getting rid of your favorites

ᝰ so instead he gives a bunch of the ones who’ve been collecting dust a good wash and asks you to help donate them

ᝰ you end up going to a children’s hospital together and giving them all away

ᝰ the two of you end up making it tradition

ᝰ every year, you organize a toy drive for the local hospitals

ᝰ you wouldn’t have it any other way

Stewy

ᝰ he thinks you’re adorable

ᝰ “sweet, someone new to sleep with.”

ᝰ you smack him lightly on the chest

ᝰ he chops you in the side

ᝰ you both dissolve into a fit of giggles, holding on to each other

ᝰ one morning, you and him are curled up together in bed

ᝰ he’s scratching at the nape of your neck, playing with your hair

ᝰ he has the stuffed animal held to his chest in a vice grip with his other arm

ᝰ you kiss his chest, falling in and out of consciousness

ᝰ you have to leave home and go on a business trip a few days later

ᝰ if he could, he’d quit his job and just come with you

ᝰ but you’d managed to convince him not to, thankfully

ᝰ the kiss goodbye is long, soft, loving

ᝰ he presses a million kisses to your crown before you’re gone

ᝰ you text nonstop

ᝰ he makes sure you eat, drink water, that you stay in safe places

ᝰ he also sends you a bazillion photos throughout his day

ᝰ there’s even a series of him taking your stuffie around new york

ᝰ your favorite is the selfie of stewy and your stuffed animal cuddled together in bed

ᝰ one night, you’re both on the phone

ᝰ “you know, i can’t sleep without it when you’re gone.”

ᝰ referring to the stuffed animal

ᝰ “really? why not, stew?”

ᝰ “it smells like you.”

#kendall roy #roman roy #siobhan roy #tom wambsgans #gregory hirsch #stewy hosseini #kendall roy x reader #roman roy x reader #siobhan roy x reader #tom wambsgans x reader #gregory hirsch x reader #stewy hosseini x reader #succession #succession hbo #wambsgansshoelaces #succession x reader #anon ask #succession headcanons

[wambsgansshoelaces]

Hi could I please request something about a love triangle with reader, Tom and Greg? I’m so attracted to both of them and can’t chose and I feel like if you’re in close proximity to one you’ll always be around the other so it would be easy to catch feelings for both. Thank u if u do 😘

In Between

Tom Wambsgans x Reader x Gregory Hirsch

be on the lookout for the two different endings! I hope I did this well, enjoy x

Word Count: 2.601k

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you say breathily, hurrying into the conference room. Tom pulls out your chair for you, gentle smile on his face.

“There’s nobody else here. You’re the least of my concerns.” You throw back a grateful smile, and he pushes your chair in as you sit. He turns to the door, peering out into the hallway, checking his watch. You carefully organize your papers out in front of you, notepad and pen ready for you to take notes. “Corporate time zone bullshit.”

“Start telling them earlier times so they start coming on time,” you suggest, not really serious. He makes his way back from the window, taking his seat next to you.

You both sit together in silence, a smidgen awkwardly, waiting for the room to fill. It’s not like you hadn’t noticed the tension between you and Tom. You could practically saw through it. You always catch his appraising glances or his shy looks. He made an effort to speak with you whenever he could, he showered you in compliments until you were pink. You’re sure you find him just as attractive as he finds you- a lot.

Time spent with Tom always left you with butterflies in your stomach. When you go to work in his office because your office neighbor is way too loud, or just because you need a body double, he has a plate of food and a mug of coffee waiting for you. He’s always taking so much work off of your plate, insisting he do the incessant paperwork for the sake of your mental clarity. You’d gone out a few times before, but just as coworkers at galas and corporate dinners. You’d always find yourselves drawn to each other rather than the crowd, keeping to yourselves and laughing in the corners of every gloriously decadent venue.

After a few stretched out ages, everyone is present and Tom begins the meeting. He turns to you, and for a moment, he wasn’t the confident man you knew him to be. You give him an encouraging smile, and discreetly take his hand and give it a squeeze before he gets up. He takes a breath, stamping down a smile in response, and closes his blazer. He was a good person, you know, nothing but kind and thoughtful, but his presentations bored you to death. It wasn’t necessarily his fault, more of the company’s, but sometimes you wonder why you got into this line of work.

He slides back into his seat by your side, not paying attention when someone else goes up to speak. He leans close to you and drops his voice, so only you can hear. “Wanna ditch?”

“What are we, in high school?” you murmur back lightheartedly.

“Come on.” Tom smooths a hand over his dress shirt, quietly getting to his feet and beckoning you after him. “We have another commitment. Send the minutes when you’re done, and if anything comes up…” Tom’s gaze rakes over the room. Once you’re both out in the hall, he sighs, relieved. “Fucking Christ. And they expect respect from me. They’re probably diddling themselves as we speak.”

“That’s vile,” you say truthfully, but laughing anyway. You both walk slowly, and you realize you don’t exactly know where you’re going. You’re both just wasting time, finding a way to spend more time in each others’ presence. Being together more, when you weren’t working. Not really working, anyway. “I thought my brain was going to leak out of my ear.”

An associate comes power walking through the hall, not bothering to pick their head up from their phone. They end up shoulder checking you, and hard, knocking you into Tom. He sets his hand on the small of your back, throwing a scowl and an obscenity over his shoulder as the perpetrator disappears down the hall. His hand slides up your back and to where you’d been hit, giving the spot a rub. It’s not like it’d hurt, but maybe it was enough to leave a bruise. He readjusts your collar, smoothing out new wrinkles from your shirt.

Tom leads you to his office, beckoning you inside. “Take a nap, I’ll close the blinds. You’re so exhausted. When was the last time you’ve slept? A week ago?”

Even though he was right, you wave him off, settling on one of his sofas. You set your things on the glass coffee table in front of you, taking the moment just to relax. “I can’t. Shit to do.”

He takes a seat at his desk, leafing through a bunch of papers. He knows he can’t fight you, but maybe he can mitigate. “A break, then.”

You sink into the cushions, a you-shaped divot reforming under you. You were here a lot, the couch knew how you were shaped. You don’t know if it’s a bad sign or kind of cute. Maybe offensive?

Tom’s only seated for a few moments before he’s up again and taking a seat flush against you, arm draped over the back of the sofa. Subconsciously, you lean into him, and his hand finds its way to your back and tentatively brushes up to your shoulder.

All the stress seems to melt from his body. His shoulders loosen, his hand gives your shoulder a light squeeze. “You’re… surprising,” is all you can think to say.

“I just need… I just need a bit,” he responds, voice suddenly raspy, hoarse. Your heart splinters as he looks over at you, eyes a bit glassy.

“Are you okay? You can tell me if something’s bothering you.”

Quickly, as if remembering himself, he’s up again and at the door.

Snapping back to reality, you realize it’s time for you to be up again. “Fuckin’ quit scheduling so many meetings in one day,” you mutter, loud enough for him to hear, and get to your feet.

He chuckles lightly. Tom pivots, going back to his desk. “Before we go,” he says, “I’ve been meaning to ask you out to dinner.” You look up, and note his neck is flushing a light pink. He’s standing now, and takes a scrap of paper from his breast pocket as if he’d rehearsed this. He jots down something on it. He folds it in half and presses it into your palm. “Just call me later, okay? It’s my personal phone. I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you sooner.”

The next meeting is as much as a snooze fest as the first. You’re only there because Tom is there. You both work so closely together, and your job overlaps so much with his, that you do things mostly as a unit. But of course, when you work so closely with Tom, you work even closer with Gregory Hirsch. Tom begins on one of his monologues, and you eye the clock. You couldn’t just get up and leave this time, but you had another meeting to get to. You’re not exactly sure how Head of Press & Media will take your being late, but you hoped it wasn’t too bad. You acted as Tom’s voice in the other department. This part of your job is where you split away from Tom, and he relied on you to keep him up to speed and working efficiently.

Well, maybe not only you.

Once Tom had finished with his spiel, scolding certain associates for being ‘a little less than bright’, you’re dismissed, and you have to run off to your next meeting, this time for press. You wave goodbye before you go, earning you a soft smile from him. Since your first meeting had run late, you were now not on track to make it on time for the next one. You pick up the pace, holding your things close to your chest. Of course, the press meeting was in an entire separate building.

You’re not paying attention to your surroundings as you try to rush to the elevators. As you turn the corner, someone else does at the same time from across the hall, and you smack into each other.

“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry,” you manage, only a little ruffled. Poor Greg spilled everything in his arms. You crouch down to help him gather his folders and files.

“No, no, it’s my fault, really. Aw, damn it, where’s my phone?” You look behind you, spotting it, and hand it to him. Once everything’s all pulled back together, he takes the array of papers from you, your hands brushing. “This isn’t how I planned the next time I saw you,” he admits, embarrassed.

You both shuffle into the elevator. It’s going down painfully slowly. You make a mental note to bitch about it to reception to see if they were having the same problem. “Really?” you ask, unable to suppress a smile.

“I mean, I never plan when I see you. That doesn’t even make sense,” Greg says, fidgeting with his sleeves. “What I’m trying to say is I don’t know how to act around you.”

You and him have probably spent days upon days with each other, running errands for Tom. Sometimes, you know Tom sends Greg to tag along with you when he can’t himself, just so someone was always with you. Their relationship was a bit of a mystery to you. If you think you and Tom have sexual tension, he and Greg have sexual strain.

The two of them interacted strangely when you were around. Conversations were hushed, harried, terse. But even from afar, they were like that. Maybe they were both just… weird.

“Um, we’re both going to Press, right?” Greg asks, breaking the silence, the elevator still going down. Suddenly, it clunks. Then stops completely.

You blink, then stupidly press the ‘door open’ button. Nothing happens. “Not anytime soon, I guess.”

“Oh, oh my god. Tom’s going to kill me.” He leans past you, side now brushing against yours, and jams the button a few more times.

“Fucking phenomenal,” you mutter, reaching for your phone. No signal. “Greg, do you…?”

“No,” he all but cries, distressing himself. Quickly, he pushes the emergency phone button on the elevator’s motherboard. A crackly voice pushes itself through the itty bitty speaker, disinterestedly asking for the problem. “Uh, we’re stuck. In the Waystar building, um, between the thirtieth and twenty-ninth floors. It’s bad, this is bad, we have somewhere we need to be-”

“Help is on the way.”

And then you hear the person on the other end putting the phone back into the receiver, hanging up.

You sigh, pressing your back to the wall of the elevator and sliding down into a seat. “Fucking customer service reps,” you mutter.

Greg turns to face you, clearly panicked. “How are you so calm? Why are you so calm?”

“What can we do?”

He pauses. ��Climb through the vents?”

“No, Greg, we’re not going to climb through the vents. We just have to wait.” You drop your head into your hands. “God, I can’t fucking take this.”

“What? What’s wrong? Can I help?”

“Just stressed.”

“Did Tom say anything to you? Are you going to get in trouble? Do you need me to talk to him?”

“What? No, of course not. Tom’s not going to do anything.” You pull your head from your hands, instead tucking your knees into your chest and resting your cheek on your knee. “He’ll just get mad at the maintenance guys. Greg, calm down. Take a breath. I promise, nothing’s going to happen.” You stare up at him, and he struggles to make eye contact.

After a few silent moments, Greg pacing the elevator floor, he stops and sits down next to you. He mirrors your position, but his legs are long and lanky, so they stick up towards his shoulders. It can’t be comfortable. His leg jitters nervously, bouncing up and down rapidly. “I feel all… icky.”

“Did Tom say something to you?” You turn your head to look at him, but he’s already staring at you.

“No, it’s just… an irrational fear of elevators. Which have been validated, to be fair,” he admits, not looking away from you. “Like, what if we never get out?”

You stifle a laugh. “You’re afraid of elevators?”

“For numerous reasons.” He shifts so that he’s facing you, then gestures around with his hand. “This being one of them. But it’s not even the worst, you know? Like what if the cables snap, and we plummet to the ground, and there’s nothing anyone can do to save u-”

“Maybe that’s enough.” You reach over and give his arm a squeeze. “We’ll be fine.”

He slumps against you, resting his head on your shoulder. “If I die, I want you to know I really wanted to ask you out the entire time I was alive and knew you but was way too scared to do so and you’re very pretty and I haven’t even come close to liking someone else while I’ve been near you-”

“Greg, we’re not going to die.” There’s a bang, and you lurch downwards. He startles, reaching for you, clinging to you, pulling you close, but the elevator’s movement is immediately regulated and the floors ding away just like they’re supposed to.

He’s immediately on his feet, pulling you up. “Should we still even go?” he asks quietly, glancing at his watch. The door finally open, and you both scurry out.

“Better late than never.”

“I’ll drive,” he suggests, before taking your arm and dragging you to the parking garage. Much later than you were supposed to, the two of you hurry up the stairs of the building Press decided to have the meeting in, Greg carrying all your things. Once on the right floor, he hands them back to you. You hold them with one arm, reaching out with the other to straighten his tie and dust off a bit of lint from his shoulder. He holds the conference room door open for you, and you step in, dazzling smile plastered on your face.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

The workday finally ends, and you don’t think you have the capacity for anything else but sitting in bed, eating ice cream, and watching TV. So that’s exactly what you do.

Your work phone is sitting on your cabinet on silent. You never usually have it like that, but you’d texted Tom from your personal phone, and he’d promised to let you know if anything came up. Tom texts again, telling you to sleep well, tacking on a heart to the end of the message. A few moments later, he send another, saying he’d get your boss to give you a raise if you went to bed on time and got a good night’s sleep. You bid him goodnight, he does in return, a smattering of emojis attached, and realize that Greg had also texted you moments earlier.

He tells you to forget about what he said in the elevator- really, just forger about the entire fiasco. He apologizes if we made you uncomfortable, saying your comfort and happiness was important to him and he didn’t want to jeopardize your friendship because he was stupid and scared. It’s a long rambling of a paragraph, but you understand well enough. You tell him he hadn’t done anything wrong, and that you found him great just the way he was.

Swiping away from the messages, your phone’s message center is displayed. Their names sit on top of each other- Tom, Greg. Greg, Tom.

Maybe you were overthinking things. Maybe they were more into each other than either of them was into you.

You tell yourself it’s time to make a decision. You owe it to them.

And yourself.

#tom wambsgans #gregory hirsch #tom wambsgans x reader #gregory hirsch x reader #greg hirsch x reader #greg hirsch #cousin greg #succession #succession hbo #succession fic #wambsgansshoelaces #succession x reader #requests open

[wambsgansshoelaces]

happy valentine’s day <3

valentine’s (succession main cast)

Kendall

ᝰ you wake up in the morning and the apartment is decked OUT

ᝰ rose petals, roses, streamers

ᝰ you didn’t know he knew what streamers were

ᝰ you wander out into the living room, and he’s sat on the couch, also still in his pajamas

ᝰ “kendall, what’s all this?”

ᝰ “it’s for you.”

ᝰ he gets up to meet you where you are and hoists you up and spins you both around

ᝰ he puts you down, your hands braced on his chest

ᝰ “because you deserve the world,” he murmurs

ᝰ he gives you a kiss

ᝰ “happy valentine’s day,” he tells you, stupid grin spread on his face

ᝰ you pepper his face in kisses, turning him pink

ᝰ “i have something for you,” you say

ᝰ “you do?”

ᝰ “of course i do.”

ᝰ you’ve been saving up for a bit

ᝰ and you know ken’s had his eye on this watch

ᝰ so you decided ‘fuck it’

ᝰ and you got it for him

ᝰ when he sees it, he just stares at you

ᝰ love clouding his eyes

ᝰ he can’t believe you’re his

ᝰ and he thinks he’s so lucky

ᝰ he sets the watch delicately down on the counter

ᝰ then kisses you so hard that you see stars

Roman

ᝰ wakes you up with a bunch of little kisses

ᝰ “hey, sleepyhead. i need you up.”

ᝰ you blink the grogginess away, him still dotting kisses over your cheeks and jaw

ᝰ “we have a reservation, babe, come on,” he whines

ᝰ “a reservation, ro?”

ᝰ “yes, now get up, pretty please.”

ᝰ he gets dressed up nice, crisp dress shirt and dress pants

ᝰ when you meet him at the door, he presents you with a bouquet of your favorite flower

ᝰ they’re already prepped for a vase

ᝰ he already has one with water and nutrients

ᝰ after you drop the flowers into the vase, he takes one, clips it, and tucks it behind your ear

ᝰ arm in arm, he takes you to a nearby breakfast place

ᝰ the fancy kind

ᝰ you have a table already set for the two of you in a private area

ᝰ you both giggle over breakfast

ᝰ you can both talk for hours on hours on hours

ᝰ but you can’t stay that long

ᝰ because roman tells you he has a trip planned for the two of you

ᝰ to cabo

ᝰ and that you need to get to the airport

ᝰ on the plane, before he takes a nap, you make sure to give him a nice, long, kiss

Shiv

ᝰ flowers are on your desk when you walk in

ᝰ and a massive box of chocolates

ᝰand a long love letter

ᝰ she tells you how much she loves you

ᝰ that she’s very excited to see you after work

ᝰ that she’ll meet you in the lobby of your office building

ᝰ you’re smiling giddily to yourself

ᝰ and you pop chocolate after chocolate into your mouth happily

ᝰ after work, she doesn’t meet you in the lobby

ᝰ she shows up at your desk

ᝰ “babe, hi,” she says, giddy

ᝰ she comes over and kisses you hello

ᝰ “thank you for all this. i have something for you, you know,” you tell her

ᝰ she can’t pull away from your lips

ᝰ she kisses you again, and again, and again

ᝰ “shiv, shiv.”

ᝰ you pull her into your lap and you take something out of a desk drawer

ᝰ you thumb it open, and she half-gasps

ᝰ you’d managed to snag her a one-of-a-kind, simple necklace

ᝰ the only ornament being a diamond heart

ᝰ you help her put it on, the chain sitting nicely on her clavicle

ᝰ she’s grinning uncontrollably

ᝰ and kissing you even more so uncontrollably

ᝰ she never ever takes it off

Tom

ᝰ mr. dreamboat romantic

ᝰ at least he hopes so

ᝰ shitting his pants waiting for you to come home

ᝰ you open the door and call out a hello to him before you realize

ᝰ the lights are dimmed, candlelight reflecting off the walls and ceilings

ᝰ rose petals are scattered in a path leading you to the living room

ᝰ you walk slowly along the path

ᝰ to him

ᝰ he’s kind of just standing there

ᝰ and you can tell he’s bricking it

ᝰ he reaches for your hands and pulls you close

ᝰ “hi,” he says, voice immediately cracking

ᝰ “i missed you,” you manage

ᝰ “yeah, i missed you too,” he murmurs back, “so much.”

ᝰ for a moment, he doesn’t say anything

ᝰ but then he continues

ᝰ “i love you very much,” he begins, “and we’ve talked about how we both want to get married, and i can’t imagine a life without you anymore, and i’m just so… so in love with you, and i… oh, i’m rambling.”

ᝰ his hands trail down your sides, your hips, as he gets down on one knee

ᝰ he reaches into his blazer and pulls out a small velvet box

ᝰ you have talked about getting married

ᝰ and you know he’s the one for you

ᝰ and of course he’s proposing on valentine’s day

ᝰ and of course you say yes

ᝰ you meet him on the floor, your lips crashing onto his

ᝰ his grip tightens on the small of your back

ᝰ he’ll never let go of you

Greg

ᝰ he’s relatively new to all of this relationship stuff

ᝰ up until this year, he’d never had anyone to share today with

ᝰ so he’s nervous and confused

ᝰ but honestly he’s always nervous and confused

ᝰ he comes home from work, bouquet in hand

ᝰ they’re your favorite flower, and color

ᝰ and rather than chocolate, he has cake

ᝰ “aw, greg.”

ᝰ “uh, i couldn’t find those, like, heart-shaped chocolate boxes… but i found hear shaped cake.”

ᝰ you laugh

ᝰ but you don’t really mind

ᝰ “um, i made sure to get your favorite flavor,” he says quietly.

ᝰ “i know it’s not much, but it’s what i could find-”

ᝰ you cut him off with a kiss

ᝰ “greg. i’m just happy you did something.”

ᝰ he thinks is heart is trying to escape his chest

ᝰ “i actually have something for you, too,” you tell him

ᝰ “but i dunno,” you continue, “maybe you’ll think it’s weird.”

ᝰ you hand him a small cloth pouch

ᝰ he takes out the pura vida bracelet you’d had made for him

ᝰ with the both of your initials on beads laced onto it

ᝰ “oh, god. you got this for me?”

ᝰ he honestly sounds like he’s going to have a panic attack

ᝰ nobody’s ever done anything like this before

ᝰ he pulls you into a tight hug

ᝰ you spend of the night cuddling on the couch, eating cake

ᝰ his suit and new bracelet are what he leaves the house in the next morning

Stewy

ᝰ extravagant king

ᝰ somehow manages to get you a day off

ᝰ and on valentine’s day, you and him are hand in hand on a pier

ᝰ he’s dressed nicely, so are you

ᝰ before you know it, you’re on a mini yacht, just you and him

ᝰ and the essential workers but they aren’t the point

ᝰ he showers you in gifts

ᝰ chocolate, jewelry you’ve been wanting, even a little stuffed bear

ᝰ you have lunch together on the deck, talking and laughing

ᝰ you play footsie under the table

ᝰ he looks at you as if you’re the only thing he can see

ᝰ and really, you are

ᝰ you both sit in the open-air living area, curled together

ᝰ his fingers rake through your hair, your head on his shoulder

ᝰ his breathing is deep, steady

ᝰ “you know,” he says, “i wouldn’t really mind if this was all we did for the rest of our lives.”

ᝰ you kiss at his shoulder, staring out at the water

ᝰ “i wouldn’t mind that, either.”

ᝰ “so… you think i’m it for you?” he asks quietly

ᝰ sometimes he thinks you could do so much better

ᝰ but never vocalizes it

ᝰ because he has to be confident

ᝰ he has to come off strong

ᝰ “i think you’re the one,” you confirm

ᝰ “you’re everything to me, you know that?” you ask

ᝰ and that’s all he needs to hear

ᝰ he pulls you even closer to him, somehow

ᝰ he kisses all over your face

ᝰ “good. because you’re it for me.”

#succession headcanons #happy valentine’s day #succession #succession hbo #wambsgansshoelaces #succession x reader #kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #roman roy #roman roy x reader #siobhan roy #siobhan roy x reader #tom wambsgans #tom wambsgans x reader #gregory hirsch #gregory hirsch x reader #stewy hosseini #stewy hosseini x reader

[wambsgansshoelaces]

blurb 4 of blurb night eeeeee!!!

Sleepy

Gregory Hirsch x Reader

prompt: “I need some sleepy Greg just enjoying the early morning dare it be the don’t start work till later or even a lil stay in after a night out.!!”

this was so much fun to write!! shout out to the homie mittos, thank u for requesting i love youuuu <3 I hope u love it

Word Count: 690

Head buried in his chest, legs intertwined with his, arms hooked around his torso. The sheets are warm, he’s warm.

Greg’s fingers dig into your back, holding you to him tightly. Even in his sleep, he can’t let you go. He refuses to. You wake up slowly, blinking away the grogginess. You shift, pulling yourself upward, readjusting to instead tuck your face in the crook of his neck.

His hand comes to the back of your neck, and you feel his lips press to the side of your head.

“You’re up?” you ask quietly.

He grunts noncommittally, his arms going to wind around your waist. His palm smooths over your hip before climbing up your spine, the way he knows you like. His eyes are still closed. His lashes are long, dark, fluffy. His face is serene- he’s at peace with you in his arms.

His hands rub up and down your body, one at your hip, the other at your back. You sigh and readjust again, hooking your arms around his neck and bringing his head to the crook of your neck. He presses a kiss to the skin right under his mouth before turning so that he can nuzzle further into you. Your fingers find his hair, stroking. You scratch gently at his scalp, and his breathing deepens once again.

You’d gone out together the night before, an ‘adventure date’, as he’d called it. You’d walked to and through Times Square, admiring the lights. He’d never been before, surprisingly. He’d attributed it to his initial brokeness and then to the general decrease in time to himself he’d experienced after starting at Waystar. Hand in hand, you’d spent the entire night out at dinner then exploring. The night out had also produced some of your favorite photos of you and Greg- the two of you trying on silly hats in a gift shop, the both of your faces squished together in a mirror out on the street.

Greg had surprised you the night before. He’d taken what feels like millions and millions of photos of just you. You giggling sitting across from him at the restaurant. Your face staring up at him from his point of view out on the sidewalk. You walking ahead of him, surrounded by the Times Square billboard lights, your hand gripping his.

When the two of you had gotten home last night, you’d noticed he’d changed the wallpaper on his phone to a picture of you staring out the window of the restaurant, a giddy grin splitting your face. You remember the stupid joke he’d told- it wasn’t even funny. You’d just laughed because he was giggling while speaking.

Fully awake now, you attempt sliding out of bed, but Greg’s vice grip on you keeps you from going anywhere.

“Don’t leave,” he whines, voice raspy from overnight’s misuse. “Why’re you trying to leave me?”

He pulls you back, and now his chest is pressed against your back. You let out an airy laugh, his lips brushing over your jaw. “I need to pee, Greg.”

“Will you come back fast? Please? For me?”

“I’ll be quick, don’t worry.”

He plants a final kiss to your cheek before rolling over, taking his arms with him. You sit up, leaning over him. You give his shoulder a squeeze, pressing your lips to his neck. He makes a satisfied noise in response, still not opening his eyes.

You’re in and out of the bathroom as quickly as you can. When you pad back into your bedroom, you find Greg sprawled out on the bed, arms and legs askew, snoring lightly. You smile down at him, crawling back onto the mattress. You try fitting yourself back into him, but he’s spread out starfish-style.

It’s as if he can read your mind, though, because the moment your near him, he brings his limbs back into him. In his sleep, he reaches for you, and you fold yourself back into him.

“Mm,” he murmurs subconsciously, pulling you flush against him and burying his face back into your neck.

You pepper kisses into his hair. You suppose you’ll just let him sleep.

#gregory hirsch #gregory hirsch x you #gregory hirsch x reader #greg hirsch #greg hirsch x you #greg hirsch x reader #succession #succession hbo #wambsgansshoelaces #blurb #blurb night #succession blurb

[wambsgansshoelaces]

okay so last night i had this horrible bad bad bad no good panic/anxiety attack and like . i went through IT . was really bad , shaking so hard my teeth clattered , barely breathing , etc . so maybe could I get succession characters helping a so who has a panic/anxiety attack and grounding them? tysm 💐

~ 🦈

I’m really sorry that happened to you anon :( I hope you’re feeling much much better now!!! If you ever need to talk, you got me <3 I love u thank u for requesting, enjoy xx

panic attack (succession main cast)

Kendall

ᝰ he’s obviously had his fair share of panic attacks

ᝰ while he’s not really sure what’ll work for you specifically, he does his best to do things he wishes people did for him when he’d have attacks

ᝰ he has a few tricks up his sleeve, anyway

ᝰ when he first realizes you’re having one, he gets an ice cube

ᝰ and tells you to put it in your mouth and just leave it there

ᝰ “it helps your brain distract itself from its own meltdown,” he tells you softly

ᝰ all the while stroking your hair, your cheeks, your brow, whatever he can tell soothes you the most

ᝰ you suck on the ice cube until it melts

ᝰ and surprisingly enough, you’ve calmed down

ᝰ yes you’re still extremely anxious, but your breathing’s been regulated, your heart rate back to normal

ᝰ kendall coaxes you into a cuddle on the couch

ᝰhis fingers run through your hair over and over

ᝰ he’s just trying to bring you down from that bad high

ᝰ and he’s doing well

ᝰ he murmurs soft words to you

ᝰ and tries to get to the root of the issue

ᝰ “what caused all this, do you know?”

ᝰ you don’t have an answer

ᝰ but that’s okay

ᝰ he’ll take care of you regardless

ᝰ because you mean the world to him

ᝰ and if he can do anything to make you happy, he’ll do it

ᝰ you make him the happiest man to walk the earth

Roman

ᝰ is also a panic attack veteran

ᝰ kind of freezes the first time you have one in front of him

ᝰ but he snaps out of it immediately

ᝰ makes you lay down in bed while he runs to the bathroom

ᝰ he comes back with a cool washcloth and slaps it onto your face

ᝰ “roman!”

ᝰ “sorry, i didn’t think it’d go so hard!”

ᝰ you laugh

ᝰ but like you’re still having a panic attack

ᝰ he’s sat next to you, and rubs gentle circles into your cheeks and forehead with the washcloth

ᝰ the cool water helps soothe you as it seeps into your skin

ᝰ you calm down

ᝰ you’ve exhausted yourself

ᝰ once roman’s sure you’re not stressing the fuck out, he takes the washcloth and sets it on his side table

ᝰ he lays down with you and pulls you close to him

ᝰ “i’m tired, and i won’t be able to sleep unless you take a nap with me,” he states

ᝰ he sets your head on his chest

ᝰ and peppers kisses over your scalp

ᝰ he’s not even a little bit tired

ᝰ he just wants you to sleep and reset

ᝰ cheek smushed into his pec, you doze off

ᝰ he’s so happy, just having you here with him

ᝰ you’re safe when you’re with him

ᝰ and he’s safe when he’s with you

ᝰ he’s so warm and cuddly with you

ᝰ and you love it

Shiv

ᝰ if she’s ever had a panic attack, she’s never let you see it

ᝰ or anyone

ᝰ but when you have one in front of her, she can’t just let it happen

ᝰ she takes your face in her hands and makes you breathe

ᝰ “you’re going to do it just like me, okay?” she asks softly, eyes searching yours

ᝰ helps you box breathe

ᝰ “four cycles, babe, come on,” she encourages

ᝰ in four, hold four, out four, hold four

ᝰ “that’s it. you’re doing so well,” she coos

ᝰ within minutes she has you back to normal

ᝰ you don’t say anything, just hug her tight with your chin set on her shoulder

ᝰ “wanna talk about it?” she asks

ᝰ she’s there whether you do or you don’t

ᝰ if you do, she sits, she listens, and she does her absolute best to help

ᝰ and even if she can’t solve the issue itself, she’ll do everything in her power to make you feel better

ᝰ she goes out a bit later, not telling you where she’s going

ᝰ she returns with a banana split from dairy queen

ᝰ you share it, you perched on the kitchen counter, her standing in front of you

ᝰ your legs tangle together as you eat

ᝰ you end up getting a bit of whipped cream on the corner of your mouth

ᝰ“you’re so messy,” she says lightheartedly

ᝰ“what? look who’s talking,” you say back, wiping ice cream from her chin

ᝰ“i don’t know how that got there,” she mutters

ᝰ she lets you have the cherry

ᝰ she knows you love it

ᝰ but she loves it too

ᝰ so she kisses you, savoring the taste of the cherry

ᝰ but mostly just the taste of you

Tom

ᝰ well read wambsgans strikes again

ᝰ he realizes you have a panic attack oncoming and sits you down in a chair

ᝰ he keeps a hand on your shoulder and quietly talks you through it

ᝰ when your breathing begins to get erratic, he begins asking you questions so that you ground yourself

ᝰ “can you name three objects you can see in the kitchen?”

ᝰ “i, ah, the blender, the, um, coffee machine, and that stupid looking mug of yours,” you manage, referring to his ‘world’s best grandma’ mug he’d gotten in a white elephant thing at work

ᝰ “there you are. how about three things you smell?”

ᝰ he’s smiling softly at you, hand now pushing back hair from your face

ᝰ you inhale deeply, grounding yourself

ᝰ just as he’d intended

ᝰ “your cologne… i still kind of smell dinner? and…”

ᝰ at a loss, you lean forward and sniff

ᝰ “…laundry detergent,” you say after giving his shirt a sniff

ᝰ “you’re a cheater,” he says, despite his smile

ᝰ “oh, well,” you reply, smiling up at him

ᝰ he kisses your forehead

ᝰ “want to move to bed?” he asks

ᝰ “please.”

ᝰ before you know it, the two of you are curled together, the blankets and duvets bringing you comfort

ᝰ he brings you comfort

ᝰ he’s scratching gently at the nape of your neck, your head pressed into the crook of his

ᝰ you press lazy kisses to the skin under your mouth

ᝰ you fall asleep, a tangle of limbs, the sheets warm with affection

Greg

ᝰ lowkey is also having a panic attack

ᝰ but not really

ᝰ he pulls himself together for you

ᝰ he’s not really sure what to do

ᝰ so he googles it

ᝰ “hey, hey. close your eyes, and, uh, i’ll count to five, and you’ll breathe in through your nose, okay?”

ᝰ not really sure what this’ll do for you, but trusting him, you oblige him

ᝰ “exhale through your mouth, now.”

ᝰ after a few cycles, you’re feeling a bit better

ᝰ you’re still anxious, but it’s not suffocating you anymore

ᝰ “go sit, i’ll get ice cream,” he tells you

ᝰ when he comes back to sit next to you on the couch, he has a pint of your favorite ice cream in his hands and two spoons

ᝰ his arm goes around you and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze

ᝰ the two of you end up finishing the pint

ᝰ he talks about everything to take your mind off of whatever it was that was stressing you out

ᝰ eventually, your brow isn’t furrowed, your features aren’t tense

ᝰ he kisses your cheeks

ᝰ “are you feeling good? better, at least?”

ᝰ you are

ᝰ you’re finally at peace again

ᝰ you spend the rest of the night watching a favorite show of greg’s

ᝰ you love sitting there listening to him talk about why he enjoys it so much

ᝰ he tells you that he’ll enjoy it better when you watch it with him

ᝰ because the first time around, all he could think of was you and whether you would like it

ᝰ you’re all that’s on his mind

ᝰ ever

Stewy

ᝰ this man is a masterclass in calm

ᝰ “hey, baby, take a breath,” he tells you, one hand brace on your stomach, the other on the small of your back

ᝰ when you clearly do not take a good breath, he changes tactics

ᝰ the hand on your stomach moves to take your own hand

ᝰ the one on your back begins rubbing in circles

ᝰ “i really want to go on a walk,” he tells you, “and i really, really, want you to come with me.”

ᝰ you know he’s lying

ᝰ but you go with him anyway

ᝰ the fresh air helps you

ᝰ and just moving around helps clear your head

ᝰ eventually, you’ve calmed down a bit

ᝰ your breath is still stuttering and tears are welling in your eyes

ᝰ stewy still has your fingers intertwined with his

ᝰ his eyes never leave your face

ᝰ he reaches over and thumbs away your tears

ᝰ “you know, i think we’re on time to watch the sun set,” he tells you, eyes twinkling

ᝰ you end up at a nearby park

ᝰ he pulls you onto a bench overlooking empty meadows

ᝰ his arm loops around you and he lets you lean against him

ᝰ your arms wind around his wast, your fingers fiddling with his belt loop

ᝰ he dots kisses all over your head as the sky melts into pinks and oranges

ᝰ “so gorgeous,” you whisper, the colors blending and swirling together before your eyes

ᝰ “not as much as you,” he murmurs back

ᝰ “cheese ball,” you say happily

ᝰ “you know you love me.”

ᝰ “i do. very much.”

#succession headcanons #kendall Roy #kendall roy x reader #roman roy #roman roy x reader #siobhan roy #siobhan roy x reader #tom wambsgans #tom wambsgans x reader #gregory hirsch #gregory hirsch x reader #stewy hosseini #stewy hosseini x reader #succession #succession hbo #wambsgansshoelaces #succession x reader #anon ask

[wambsgansshoelaces]

For that prompt list number 9 with greg I think that screams him!

FIFA

Prompt: “She did it!” “No, he did!”

Gregory Hirsch x Reader

summary: a day with greg’s nephews + FIFA shenanigans

okay so I was kind of self indulgent with this one because I play fifa all the time by myself so I was like time to pretend I’m actually playing with someone! anyway I hope you all enjoy this x I lowkey love writing greg please keep requesting him. also the picture??? on my knees

let me know what you think x

p.s. for those who don’t know, FIFA is a football/soccer video game, and a red card gets a player removed from the game

Word Count: 2.600k

You sit with your head pressed into the side of his shoulder, cuddled together on top of a pile of pillows and blankets. You both face the television, Xbox controllers in hand, and you’re watching as Greg spams the slide tackle button as you both play.

“You’re supposed to be learning how to strat, not trying to kill my best player,” you mutter lightheartedly, making your player run in circles so Greg can get the ball.

“Well, based on what you’ve told me, this is one of the best strategies one can employ,” he says back, the beginnings of a laugh lilting in his voice. “I break some knees, I take the red card, and then beat you. Metaphorically, though, because I’d never hit my girlfriend.” Without tearing his gaze from the TV, he plants a kiss to the side of your head.

You know he isn’t wrong. Every FIFA online game you’d ever played in your life had ended the exact same way. Your opponent takes their most useless player, commits a heinous crime on your best one, gets the one player sent off, then beats you by one goal because they killed your goal scorer and you couldn’t score.

“I don’t think that matters, because you’ve stolen the ball from me and then scored on yourself.” You laugh loudly, watching as your team celebrates on the screen.

“Hey, come on, I thought that was where I was supposed to go!”

“You literally passed it to your own keeper then ran into the goal. Come on, Greg, try!”

He sighs, leaning his head to the side so it rests against yours. “But it’s fun like this,” he says happily, sisscor kicking one of your player's legs out from under him.

“What the fuck!” The injury blinker flashes over the player. “What, no card?”

“You mean like an ace of spades? Why would I get one of those?”

You laugh, pausing the game to take out the hurt player. “You asshole. You know what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Yes, you did!”

“No, I didn’t!”

“Then why’s my center back not have legs anymore?” you ask, watching the substitution. The player’s legs are glitching in and out of existence.

“That’s not because of me,” he insists. “That’s just bad developing.” He runs around with the ball a bit, the soft clacking of the joycon strangely soothing. “How do I shoot again?”

“Press B.”

You make all of your players run in the opposite direction, clearing the way for Greg. Jankily, he runs up to the goal, and blasts the ball over the crossbar. “I asked for shoot.”

“And I told you to press B, not suffocate it.”

The timer runs out, and you’ve won. “I hate you,” he says, dropping the controller and pulling you into his arms. “This is fun. Please never actually play against me. It’d hurt getting the shit beaten out of me.” He presses a kiss into your hair.

Greg had woken up this morning to a text message saying that his little nephews were going to be dropped off at your place. They’re his sister’s twin children, and his mother was supposed to be taking care of them, but apparently now that falls on you. In the morning, he’d rolled over to face you, phone in hand.

“I don’t know how to handle kids,” he’d said. “I think I rather famously don’t know how to handle kids.”

You were a bit upset that he’d just let his mother do whatever, but that was a conversation for another day. A much deeper, more serious one. You’d reached over, brushed back his hair with your fingers, and reassured him that you’d both do fine.

You power off the Xbox from your own controller before putting it down. “It’s only a game. And it’s only because I’ve been playing for so long.”

With a final kiss to your head, he gets to his feet, wandering into the kitchen. You stay where you are on the floor, smiling to yourself. “Do kids eat cucumbers?”

You get up to follow him, curious as to what he’s doing. After washing the vegetables, he pulls a small knife from the rack and begins cutting. “They’re children, Greg. Not toothless sharks.” He’s worrying himself too much, over thinking. You turn and pull a plate from their designated cabinet and set it next to the cutting board, Greg absentmindedly dumping the newly sliced cucumber bits onto it. “Why’re you so worried?”

He lets the knife lay on the cutting board, turning to face you, instead leaning against the cabinets. “I dunno, Y/N. It’s stupid, but I don’t want anyone to be upset with me. Not even the kids, specifically, but their mom, who’ll tell my mom…”

You frown at him, moving to retrieve a packaged thing of hummus from the fridge. You figure the children would eat the cucumbers by themselves, but if they didn’t, you’re sure you could get them to enjoy the vegetable with hummus. “One, you’re a grown man.” You tear the lid off of the hummus, nabbing a cucumber slice and dipping. “If you didn’t want to, why’d you say yes?” you ask, waving around the cucumber to help emphasize your point. Before he can say anything, you continue. “Two, they’re only here for three hours. We either take them to the park and let them run themselves to exhaustion or we just turn on the TV and be the cool aunt and uncle.” You finally pop the slice into your mouth and chew. “Good hummus.”

You leave him in the kitchen, going to slide onto the couch. The boys were due in the next five minutes. Greg turns so that he can look at you, your kitchen overlooking the living room. “Are you mad?”

You’re stretched out on the couch, scrolling through your phone. “No, I’m not. Why would I be mad?”

“I just feel like you’re upset that all of this is even happening.”

“I mean, kind of. But I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay, so you are upset,” he says, distress seeping in his voice. Before your conversation can continue, and probably turn into an argument, someone’s knocking way too loudly on your door. Greg sighs, and you sit up and watch him disappear into the hall to the front door. “Hey, Aunt- oh, okay. Yeah, we can- okay, uh, can I- oh, bye,” is all you hear before the door clicks shut. There’s an awkward pause, and you can practically hear the gears in Greg’s head grinding. You know his family frustrates him. “Hey, you two. Wanna meet the special girl I told you about?”

Although you were trying to be upset with him, and you knew you’d both need to talk seriously after all of this was over, your heart swells. You get up so that you don’t come off as rude as your boyfriend gently guides the two four-year-olds into the living room. They’re both hiding themselves behind him, one peeking around him to steal a glance at you. You wave, doing your best to seem friendly.

“Hi. What’re your names?” you ask, crouching down to their level. The one peeking leaves Greg, instead scurrying over to you.

He points at himself. “My name’s Ronnie. Ryan’s hiding. Mama says he’s too shy.”

“It’s okay to be shy sometimes.” You offer Ronnie your hand, and he takes it and shakes over enthusiastically. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“You look like a Disney princess,” Ronnie says matter-of-factly. “Just like Uncle Greg said you would!”

You laugh, standing and throwing Greg a look. A blush is creeping up his neck, embarrassment rolling off him in waves. “Do you like cucumbers, Ronnie?”

He practically skips after you into the kitchen, and you find yourself grinning. “Yes! They’re my favorite veggie, like the song they sang in Bubble Guppies!” Ronnie isn’t tall enough to see over the counter, let alone reach, so you hand him the plate. “Always eat at the table,” he says to himself, walking carefully with the plate cupped in his hands to your breakfast table. He climbs into the chair, which looks comically large for him, and looks over at his brother.

Greg’s gotten down on one knee and is speaking quietly to the other twin. The poor boy’s face is pink, and he stares at you apprehensively. Always moving, Ronnie takes a cucumber slice, slides out of the chair, and rushes over to his brother to hand it to him.

“See, Ronnie has a snack for you,” Greg says calmly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Ryan’s back. “Come on, buddy, what’s wrong?”

Ryan chews slowly on the cucumber, eyes still trained on you. “He doesn’t like people he doesn’t know,” Ronnie supplies loudly. “But, look, she’s nice!”

Ryan doesn’t say anything, instead raising his arms up towards Greg. Even kneeling, he’s much taller than the boy. With a sigh, he hoists Ryan into his arms and gets to his feet. Greg carries him into the living room, so you decide to stay with Ronnie, who climbs right back into the chair and scarfs down the rest of the cucumbers.

“Do you want more?” you ask, laughing. He merely shakes his head, giving you a toothy grin.

“No, thank you! I have to save space for dinner when I get home!” Before you know it, he’s scurried off again, right to his brother. He stops at the next of pillows and blankets you hadn’t bothered to clean up from earlier. He finds the Xbox controller and turns to you. “What’s this?”

You sit yourself down in the pile of fluff, beckoning for Ronnie to sit, too. “It’s so that we can play games on the TV.”

He sinks into a particularly fluffy blanket. “Can I try? Can you help me play?”

“Yeah, sure.” You boot up the Xbox, pulling open FIFA again. “Look, we can play soccer.”

“Uncle Greg, do you know how to play, too?” Ronnie asks, entranced by the graphics on screen as you choose gamemode.

“Not well,” he admits.

“How about you play for Ryan? And Y/N plays for me!”

“I think you’re rigging it for yourself, little guy,” Greg responds, laughing. He nudges Ryan gently. “How about you go get the other controller from the pretty lady for me?”

Hesitantly, Ryan nods and scurries over to you.

“Could I please have the other controller?” he asks quietly, staring right at you. You find it and press it into his hands with a smile. He climbs back onto the couch to sit with Greg.

“I’m gonna win for you, Ronnie, don’t worry. I’ll try super, super hard!” you whisper to him conspiratorially.

He dissolves into a fit of giggles, and you turn your attention to the screen to pick your team. Soon enough, you’re playing the game, tongue caught between your teeth. Greg, sticking to the only strategy he knows, makes every player he has slide tackle on yours.

“Hey, who’s the one who keeps hurting all the players?!” Ronnie asks, distressed. As soon as he asks, one of your players gets bulldozed into the ground, and the red card cut scene plays.

“She did it!” Greg says quickly, tone accusing. Ronnie turns to face you, jaw agape.

“What? No, he did it!” you exclaim, trying not to burst into laughter.

“Don’t listen to her, Ronnie, I’m the red team,” Greg insists.

“You’re the red team? You don’t even know how to pass the ball!” The player in red, currently in possession of the ball, flicks it away from the white-wearing defender, who was admittedly running the wrong direction in the first place.

Greg laughs, the damage already done.

“How could you?!” Ronnie asks.

Ryan, to your delight, lets out a giggle. “Uncle Greg’s not telling the truth! His hands aren’t doing what the red players are.”

“Eat it, Greg,” you say, finally laughing.

When the game ends, you’ve scored on him seven times, and Ronnie squeals. “I won!”

“You’re not very good, Uncle Greg,” Ryan says, coming more out of his shell every minute that passes. You decide to turn off the game, Ronnie expressing his interest in going to the nearby playground. He stumbles over himself going to put on his shoes, Ryan the opposite, calmly and deliberately tying his laces. You attempt to take Greg’s hand as you walk outside, but he pretends like he can’t see and you immediately feel it sting in your chest.

You make it to the playground, you and Greg sitting on a bench to watch his nephews play. It’s not until Ronnie and Ryan are taking turns down the slide does he say anything.

“I’m sorry. That was mean.” He scoots closer to you, actually taking your hand this time. “I’m upset and I’m taking it out on you when I shouldn’t. I’m sorry,” he repeats, looking down at you, voice sincere.

You give his hand a squeeze. “It’s okay.”

“We should probably talk later, right?” he asks meekly. You sigh, feeling bad, and lean over to kiss his cheek.

“I promise I’m not mad or upset with you or anything,” you say first, meaning it. Your thumb strokes the back of his hand absentmindedly, the way you know he likes. “But we should talk. Later,” you add, watching Ronnie run up to you with a handful of mulch, grinning widely.

The boys spend the next hour exhausting themselves, so much so that Greg has Ronnie hoisted in his arms, head buried into his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. Ryan walks alongside you, holding your hand. As you watch Greg walk in front of you, Ronnie draped over his shoulder, asleep, you feel strangely content.

At home, you watch your boyfriend carefully lower Ronnie onto the couch, giving his stomach an affectionate rub before pulling one of the plush blankets from the floor to drape it over him. Ryan lets you hoist him onto the other side of the couch, so that his legs overlap with Ronnie’s. As Ryan gets settled, Greg runs a soothing hand through the boy’s hair. As soon as his head hits the cushion, Ryan’s asleep, and so is Ronnie.

You’ve sat on the large cloth rocking chair you and Greg had invested in a few months ago. If you’re honest, it’s one of the best purchases you’ve ever made. He comes to join you, squishing in at your side and winding an arm around you.

“I don’t know why you think you’re bad with kids,” you murmur, keeping your voice low as to not wake anyone up. Both your legs are tucked under you, Greg using one of his feet to gently rock the two of you back and forth. “It’s nice watching you with them.”

“I just get worried,” he tells you, “that they’re not getting enough from me.”

“You do more than enough,” you point out. “They obviously love you very much. You take good care of them.”

“Regardless, it’s because you bring out the best in me,” he says into your hair. “I… I still need to do better, though. I should’ve asked you before I agreed to anything.”

Your hand smooths across his stomach. “I’m really not upset or anything.”

“Still.”

“They’re cute. They’re polite. I don’t mind taking care of them.”

He presses a kiss to your scalp. "You know, one day I'll beat you at that stupid game."

"FIFA? In your dreams, Egghead."

He tilts your head up so that he has access to your lips and kisses you gently.

“I love you very much.”

“I love you more.”

#gregory hirsch #greg hirsch #gregory hirsch x reader #greg hirsch x reader #cousin greg #cousin greg x reader #succession #succession hbo #succession fic #wambsgansshoelaces #succession x reader #writing prompt #prompt request #fluff

[wambsgansshoelaces]

Greg hc!!! Maybe jealous Greg or clingy Greg :000

shout out to my number one pookie mittos i love u

gealousy: g stands for greg

ᝰ jealous greg is kind of funny

ᝰ he takes you out as his date to a fancy waystar thing

ᝰ you’re all dolled up and smiley and he can’t stop looking at you

ᝰ his body literally factory resets when you walk in together with your hand tucked into his elbow

ᝰ he wants to feel like this all the time; head over heels in love with you, and everyone can see it

ᝰ and everyone can see that you love him back

ᝰ he leaves you by yourself with a coworker of his to go to the bathroom

ᝰ he lowkey stalks you from afar on his way back

ᝰ he hears your laugh from all the way across the room and his brain buffers

ᝰ memorizes the sound

ᝰ but is also lowkey pissed he isn’t the one who made you make it

ᝰ comes back trying to be cool but fails

ᝰ “hey, i’m back! i, uh, saw a refreshment table on the way back. isn’t that crazy?”

ᝰ the coworker ignores greg, trying to rope your attention back to him

ᝰ but you’re looking up at your boyfriend, who’s worrying at his lip with his teeth

ᝰ you think he’s going to slice it open

ᝰ “uh, sorry, i need to, uh, steal them from you really fast. we, um, have something really important to talk about. yeah, i, um, i think i have kidney stones.”

ᝰ after the other guy leaves, you’re frowning. “what’s wrong? where does it hurt?”

ᝰ “nothing.”

ᝰ “greg! kidney stones? really?”

ᝰ “what? the way he was staring at you was creepy.”

ᝰ you and him actually go to the refreshment table

ᝰ he eats seven miniature eclairs

ᝰ the same guy from before gives you a wave from across the table while you’re filling a glass with water

ᝰ “is there, like, polite ways to tell people to fuck off?” greg asks you

ᝰ you shrug. “he’s just being nice.”

ᝰ “he’s being too nice.”

ᝰ “come on, it’s nothing.”

ᝰ you wrap your arm around his waist, letting your hand sit in his blazer pocket

ᝰ his nervous system short wires

ᝰ coworker comes up to you one last time near the end of the event

ᝰ he asks for your number and you think greg’s about to implode on himself

ᝰ “sorry, i’m not interested.”

ᝰ he gives you his number on a napkin anyway

ᝰ greg stares at it like gollum coughed it out

ᝰ you hand it to him and he gladly rips it up and tosses it in the garbage

ᝰ the car ride home is silent

ᝰ “are you okay?” you ask quietly

ᝰ “just thinking.”

ᝰ i.e. he’s thinking about every single thing that can go wrong for the rest of your relationship

ᝰ he got jealous, yes, but it really only made him insecure

ᝰ but you know that thinking is automatically over thinking

ᝰ you lean into him, forcing his arm around you as New York passes by through the window

ᝰ you let your hand rub over his stomach and plant a kiss on his shoulder

ᝰ “i love you, egghead.”

ᝰ “i told you not to call me that.”

ᝰ he’s smiling, though

ᝰ “but, like, i love you too, you know.”

ᝰ you kiss him for real this time

ᝰ “i only have eyes for you, okay?”

ᝰ he’s all giddy now

ᝰ “okay.”

#gregory hirsch x reader #greg hirsch #greg hirsch x reader #gregory hirsch #greg hirsch headcanon #succession #succession hbo #succession headcanons #succession x reader #headcanon series #requests open