#roman and logan are only really mentioned | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dorims · 2 months

Text

last christmas (i gave you my heart).

gif creds @/fightingdragonswithwho

pairing. roman roy x reader

wc. 1.6k

genre. fluff

Spending every holiday under Logan Roy’s roof wasn’t necessarily a problem. But just like any other family gathering, the pot tended to be stirred until have a holly jolly Christmas sounded either like a call for help or the theme song from the Saw franchise. for a change, maybe spending christmas away from his family would do him good. you can only hope he agrees.

tags. NOT beta-ed(?), english isn't my first language // established relationship (fiancee/married, i havent decided yet lol), brief mention of alcohol, allusion to roy family dynamics, roman and reader are the only characters in this one

a/n. idc that its march and the fact im not big on christmas either, this one really fun to write! hope you enjoy

“So,” You test the waters, lathering the bristles of your toothbrush with the bubblegum toothpaste in the process. In tune with the routine you had wordlessly established, you locked eyes with him through the mirror. Not before letting your eyes roam over his relaxed figure of course. Surprisingly intimate, you would describe the way he liked to watch you while you finished your nightly routine. He would look so painfully comfortable, maybe even serene, as he let his body rest against the doorframe as his eyes lidded with perpetual fatigue, took in the mundanity of watching you lather your face with creams and face wash.“I’ve been thinking.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, though it sounded more like a stifled laugh. “That's new, how's that going for you?"

“Funny.” The foam in your mouth was of no help at conveying the faux annoyance, balancing out the deadpan you sported with a dose of conveniently muffled speech. Not intimidating at all, it only caused his grin to grow wider. And contagious as always, you leaned over the sink to spit the toothpaste in an attempt to hide a smile of your own, though the thick layer of adoration in your eyes gave it away.

“I’m just saying,” he raised his hands in mock surrender, finally walking inside to lean against the marble counter right next to you. “I only wanna know how it feels to lose your, you know, thinking virginity after giving no signs of brain activity for how long? Like—“

“You can tell yourself how it feels when you lose it.”

“Oh you want to fuck my brain so bad—“

“I’ve been thinking,” You cut him off with an amused smile, taking him in once more. Big round eyes shone with mischief along a hint of sheepishness as he noticed you looking at him. Really looking at him under the vanity lights with messy hair from running his hands through the strands all day and finally wearing the matching pajamas set you had gotten for him in a pretty navy blue because wearing a matching set made you feel good and you wanted him to feel the same way. Always.

“You've been thinking…” he rolled his eyes as if to hold back another quip now that you had restarted the conversation. The pinkish hue you were so familiar with made a small appearance as you let your fingers brush over his, gently coaxing him to intertwine his hands with yours. Not that he needed much convincing, though.

“We should spend Christmas this year with my family.”

At the beginning of your relationship, you were sure he would’ve pulled his hand out of your grasp. You could see the way he had to swallow down the urge to do so from the pensive furrow of his brows while the side of his brain in charge of his critical thinking tried to convince him that your words weren’t an attack on his family. He was still working on it, the lousy therapy sessions here and there helped a little, but he still found himself opening his mouth to complain.

“I know what you’re gonna say but think about it, Romeo.” Thankfully, you took the steering wheel before he could start. “My family loves you and we haven’t spent Christmas with them in like, ever, actually.”

Which wasn’t his fault, and you made sure to tell him so, leaning closer until your knee touched his and giving him a quick peck on his lips before he could protest.

Spending every holiday under Logan Roy’s roof wasn’t necessarily a problem. It was nice to exist alongside the people that Roman loves, the people he grew up around. Watching him interact with his siblings could be endearing. So much so that sometimes you wished you could record their banter and laughter so he could listen back and for a moment picture that things between them were okay. But just like any other family gathering, the pot tended to be stirred until have a holly jolly Christmas sounded either like a call for help or the theme song from the Saw franchise.

“Every year we celebrate in a different place,” you toyed with the idea in front of his eyes like one would a cat’s toy, using your smile to build momentum to the grand reveal that at this point didn’t even sound grand to you. “last Christmas was Italy and this year we’re doing Greece.”

“Since when do you have a house in Greece?” He asked, toying with your fingers as his gaze locked itself on them. It was a good sign he was asking.

“We don’t,” the sound of your animated chuckle helped to loosen his shoulders. Though it didn’t dissipate his slight confusion, it always felt good to have you close like this. “It’s Kelly’s house— eh, her parents’ but sharing is caring or whatever…”

He let out a chuckle of his own. The sound made all sorts of warmth bloom in your chest, maybe even cute aggression if you felt like being dramatic.

“And after we can spend New Year's just the two of us wherever you want.” He shrugged in a silent response, still pensive, and you couldn’t help but coo at him as if to coax him out of his shell. “It’s gonna be so much fun, they’ve been asking about us and the kids adore you, they’ve been obsessed with Uncle Roro ever since Lizzie’s birthday.”

“As they should be, my lower back never recovered from being used as a human jungle gym.” He rolled his eyes at the memory yet the love was evident from behind the thinly veiled sarcasm. He was a very particular individual but so were most of your siblings-in-law. And sure, the first time he met your family hadn’t gone as he expected, both in a good way and in a bad way, but your mother still asked him to join him for a glass of whiskey whenever they crossed paths with a welcoming smile and your father always hugged him in greeting like he did all his children.

“You’re good with them,” You smiled against his lips as you leaned closer for a kiss, leaving a couple of pecks that eventually made him smile too. “you’ve always been good with kids.”

“Yeah whatever, stop kissing me my breath stinks.”

The way your brothers had instantly included him in their weird boys' night out, which was ruled by the obnoxiously corny motto ‘what happens in boys' night, stays in boy’s night’ that was used as a smoke screen for that one time they decided to go to the spa to never be taken seriously again once they swallowed their own stupidity, left you grinning for a week straight. And let's not start with the picture you had taken during a summer trip to Nice of all the daughters-in-law posing like they were celebrating their high school prom with Roman at the front of the line, it had been all laughter all throughout; the picture came out a little blurry.

It’s all you could think about sometimes when you watched him doing nothing interesting in particular with a lovesick intensity only rivaled by his. How well he fits in your life, with the quips and interjections that kept you company and next to you on your shared bed. With both your slippers sitting neatly side by side and with the unmeasurable love pooling at the bottom of his chest that he had finally allowed himself to unabashedly share after who knows how long.

“Can you pass me your headband? I need to wash my face.”

He insisted yours was better every time you told him he should buy one of his own. Even if he hadn’t tried any other than yours. You only let it pass because he looked cute with his hair pushed back. No other reason at all.

“So,” you cut yourself by giving him a peck on the lips as he got closer to steal some face wash. He had his own on his side of the bathroom but the bottle was pretty much full and yours still ran out quicker than when it was just you. “Greece or no Greece?”

“I got chills, they’re multiplying.” He joked right before rinsing the soap from his face, chuckling at your lack of amusement. “What? You prefer right now there’s nowhere to hide since you pushed my love aside?”

“I prefer you answer my question.”

The eyes of a kicked puppy on full display just put him out of his misery vibes, pleaded in silence as he dragged his feet across the floor until he was standing right in between your legs, his face hiding in the crook of your neck. He fit nicely against your body and instinctively you let your fingers brush along the strands of his hair. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go.”

He groaned in response, his voice muffled against your skin. “It’s not that, I want to, I just— I already RSVP or whatever bullshit to my Dad.”

No one RSVP’ed to Logan Roy. Especially not his children. It wasn’t necessary when the table was already set for all parties involved regardless of conflicting schedules

“That’s okay,” You kiss his hair, resting your cheek against his head and muffling your own voice. The vibrations made him hum. “I can talk to him.”

The disheveled strands tickled your skin as he shook his head. Now that his chin was resting on your chest you noticed how cartoonishly slow he was blinking, his lids heavy the weight of being awake for far too long.

“I’ll talk to him.” He pressed a kiss against the side of your jaw, feeling the unmistakable excitement of your grin, before hiding the yawn that followed. “Tomorrow, I promise.

#roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #roman roy fluff #roman roy #succession fan fiction #roman roy imagine #succession imagine

118 notes · View notes

chaithetics · 1 year

Text

Furtive Hands

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) reader

Word count: 7.3K

Chapter/content warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, established/secret relationship, smut, fingering, P in V intercourse, some fluff, soft but also kind of dom-ish Stewy? Vague-ish mentions of canonical childhood abuse/trauma, and toxic family dynamics, Logan makes a cameo at the start (deserves its own warning), Logan's death and grief mentioned also Roman being a bit of a douche. I think that's it?

(Reader is technically a Roy because that's how the plot/idea worked but I avoided physical descriptions other than reader having AFAB physical characteristics. You're more than welcome to canon this reader as being adopted or half-siblings with the other Roys. I try to avoid giving physical characteristics and am tempted to continue to code all my readers as readers of colour out of spite due to the lack of intersectionality in fics. My reader in A Cinematic Lover has no physical characteristics other than being chronically ill but is Desi coded.)

Author's Note: I didn't proofread all of it, whoops. This is also my first time writing Stewy and I'm not too sure how I feel about this fic. I don't feel super confident in saying that "I captured his voice" etc. But I adore Stewy Hosseini and Arian Moayed and we need more Stewy fics. Please let me know your thoughts! I'd really appreciate the feedback :)

Like being in the Roy family, being the youngest in the clan had its perks and downfalls. You’d been able to get away most of your life with your father’s wrath directed towards your older siblings but at a certain point when they’d reached adulthood before you and it was quickly redirected towards you. You and your older brother Connor were the only ones to stay out of the family business, Connor was technically more involved than you which said a lot to anyone familiar with the family’s affairs.

Despite being the youngest it would be fair to say you were the most emotionally mature of your siblings (although you could easily admit that’s a very low bar) and the most well-adjusted (again, another relatively low bar). You were a practising clinical psychologist who had of course undergone a bunch of therapy yourself for your childhood trauma. You’d wrapped up a session and were walking a patient out before heading back into your office for your office lunch date when you were interrupted by a booming presence.

“Dad?” You immediately questioned. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be here-”

“I thought I’d stop by. See the new office-”

“I’ve had this office for 3 years.” You interjected.

Logan quirked an eyebrow at that, he seemed almost amused at your assertive call out. You had been a louder child like Roman but unlike your brother, you became quieter as a teenager. You knew your father had assumed that was because you didn’t have whatever “deficiency” he believed Roman had and that you’d grown out of it. The reality was, that it was a trauma response and you’d learnt that life was easier with him if you were quiet and made your presence as sparse as possible.

He’d always found playing his games with you particularly interesting due to this, you weren’t as quiet now as you were as a teenager and you weren’t as loud as you were as a child, somewhere in the middle. You could slink off at the few family gatherings you intended to not be questioned or dragged into shop talk. But you still had a known presence and you were the only one of his children who could somewhat confidently cut him off and respond to him with what he’d deem as some sense of calmness. You weren’t as pliant to him as your siblings which made his mind games all the more intriguing to him.

“Right. Well, it’s a nice enough place.”

“Thanks.” You bit your lip as you waited for your father to continue, he didn’t show up for no reason.

You were trying to project a calm facade you were starting to worry for a myriad of reasons. With what was going on with your family this wouldn’t be any pure coincidence. You weren’t the most involved in the family business but you were well aware and received updates from Kendall. But there was also concern over the potential sighting of your lunchtime visitor.

“Well dear, I need you to do something for me.” You tilted your head and your brow furrowed at his words.

“Since when do you need favours? Specifically favours from clinical psychologists?” You questioned.

“It’s to do with your siblings.” Logan spoke flatly as he then sat himself down on one of the armchairs in your waiting room. He was mildly irritated that you hadn’t invited him into your office and that you’d kept that room off limits for him, blocking the doorway to it.

You scoffed at his words and rolled your eyes, one thing was for sure, whatever this was, it wasn’t good.

“Continue.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed at you slightly as he watched you as if it was the first time he was seeing you. He was used to you being uninterested and not the way that Shiv tried to play everything cool with Logan. You were genuinely uninterested, your eyes looked cold.

You had a colder approach with your father in comparison to your siblings, it was healthier and the easiest for you to maintain without being sucked in like they were. It wasn’t a big surprise to anyone that you weren’t impressed with the confrontations that happened in your presence, your siblings had weird concepts and responses of support. But there were the built-in responses as you’d gotten older, Kendall defended and you comforted.

Logan hadn’t always given you a great deal of attention in those moments but he was familiar with your mannerisms as he’d call them now. But today you seemed annoyed, this wasn’t an emotion that Logan felt like he’d seen from his youngest in almost a lifetime. He found it to almost be the most interesting he’d ever found you, he mused that you must know or be hiding something.

“Well, you grew up with Kendall, Roman and Siobhan. You understandably know them well and you have a unique skillset with your area of expertise.” He paused for a moment watching your face as he said that before continuing.

“And?”

“You would’ve made observations of their behaviours over the years. Symptoms-behaviours- whatever the fuck you want to call it. You have the power to diagnose.” You looked at him and the cooler facade you normally actively projected with him was starting to fade into one of horror. “I’d like you to write a piece on that, about your siblings. Their credibility, illnesses. A media circuit perhaps as well. You’re a credible and telling source.”

You stared at your father in silence, you didn’t know what to say to him. This was awful, even for him.

“So?” He broke the silence, his eyes were deadly serious, and his lips were in a small but twisted smirk.

“No. No! Just no…That’s absolutely fucked up. No.” You looked around starting to think about how messed up that your father hadn’t just come up with this idea but that he was willing to do it to his children, your older siblings and drag you into this. “No, and if I did that who would then get the chance to write the think piece on you?” You asked sardonically rubbing your brow.

“Well, I’m sure Shiv could whip up a sequel to her letter on Kendall.” He bit back almost nonchalantly.

“I shouldn’t be surprised but I just can’t get over the fact that you’d do this, that you’d ask me to do this dad. What you did to Kendall after that Board vote, was sick… And again? To all of them?” You were starting to feel nauseous and weaker around him.

“Are you talking to Kendall?” He asked in a cold tone.

“He’s my brother.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“And I’m your father.”

“Unfortunately.” You looked into his eyes and bit your cheek.

He scoffed at that. He’d come in relatively calm, well calm for him but he was quickly becoming agitated at your lack of cooperation.

“He’s a lousy excuse for a son and a brother.”

“Kendall doesn’t interrupt my day of work for a fucked up favour.” You spat out, you weren’t shying away from his gaze even though his presence was getting too much for you. “I think you should leave Dad. I have patients and I need to eat something, I need lunch.”

“Fine. Don’t give my regards to your fucking brother.” He said as he started to get up, you just leaned against the wall.

“Hey-” Stewy’s voice crackled against the thick tension between you and your father as he waltzed into the entryway of your waiting room. He paused for a second as his gaze quickly landed on your father and you. You thought you saw a brief flicker of panic in his eyes but he quickly and efficiently plastered over it.

“And what the fuck are you doing here?” Logan directed at Stewy with a huff and an eye roll. Logan’s concern and suspicion were piqued significantly now as his disappointed gaze flicked over to you.

“Well sir Roy, your deleterious business plans and board meetings are getting a bit too traumatic, that much I now need to see Dr Roy.” Stewy immediately and confidently jumped in, his playful and pointed lie came across smoothly and convincingly. Logan scoffed at that and started to walk out.

“Don’t think about trying any of your peacock philandering with my daughter,” Logan said to Stewy as he walked past him.

“How thoughtful, safe travels sir.” Stewy laughed off Logan’s comment which just seemed to irritate him more.

“Think about it.” Logan said as he looked back at you as he was in the doorway, you just held his gaze for a moment.

“I’ll see you at the wedding.” You calmly stated, he narrowed his eyes again at you for a second and then just walked off.

**********

Stewy wasn’t a patient of yours, he fortunately never had been, that would’ve been a massive ethical violation. He was meeting you at the office for lunch, something that you two often did. It had been vaguely discussed in the past that if somebody ever saw him in your office it could be easy to dismiss it as him being a patient or wanting some kind of psychological consultation relating to work. It was never an excuse that had been needed before today and you were surprised at how quickly Stewy went into that mode and how he simply sold it.

You were sitting on the sofa in your office with your legs in Stewy’s lap, he had an arm over the back of the sofa and his other hand was gently caressing your legs as you recounted the brief visit from your father before Stewy came. Stewy was playful and a bit chaotic but he was also intelligent and he could be serious and thoughtful, which he often was for you.

“I should call Kendall before something happens.” You said looking at Stewy and he nodded, continuing his comforting, soft touches on your sprawled-out legs.

You grabbed your phone and called Kendall, the phone barely rang before it was answered.

“Yo?”

“Dad came by the office earlier today.”

“Oh? What did the old fuck want?” Kendall teased.

“He asked me to write a piece on you, Rome and Shiv. To air out everyone’s laundry, basically ‘diagnose’ you all and try to discredit your side of what’s going on. It was so fucked up Ken.” There was a pause for a moment, you heard Kendall sigh and then inhale. You made eye contact with Stewy who was silent and watching you.

You had a requited soft spot for Kendall. He was your older brother and he was a good one at that. He was fiercely defensive of all his siblings, which he seemed to prioritise over his own trauma and feelings in confrontations with your father. But as the baby of the family and not having the same tongue as your siblings, you suppose you came across as weaker, more vulnerable. You’d concluded a long time ago that this added to the soft spot that Kendall has for you. You also thought subconsciously it was also linked to the fact that you were the most patient and sympathetic sibling he had.

“What did you say?” Kendall finally asked, his voice was more serious now.

“I said no, a bazillion times. I told him it was sick and asked him to leave.”

Ken nodded, and then he remembered that you couldn’t see that.

“That’s pretty fucked up. Not surprising though I guess…”

“Are you with Rome and Shiv?” You asked.

“Uh-huh, they’re in the uh, they’re inside.” Kendall answered quickly.

“Can you tell them?”

“Yeah, sure but-”

“I’m really sorry Ken but I have another patient soon, I just wanted to tell you as soon as I could in case something happened. I didn’t want to do it over text.” You answered.

“Okay, I’ll see you at the rehearsal. Thanks as well.” His second sentence was softer.

“Yeah, of course. See you then.” You then hung up and looked at Stewy.

“Did he sound okay to you?” You asked Stewy.

“Sounded pretty okay for Ken.” Stewy responded as he moved his hand away from your legs and to hold your now phone-free hand. You just nodded and Stewy changed the subject to something else for the rest of your lunch hour which you appreciated.

******

You would say you have a complicated but good relationship with your siblings. While you had the same mother as Kendall, Shiv, and Roman, you and Connor were bonded by your outcast status regarding family affairs. You didn’t agree with a lot of the opinions that left Connor’s mouth but he was still a compassionate older brother to you. You often were iced out together at family gatherings as it was all a business opportunity for your father’s attention.

You were glad that you just had to relay your father’s request to Kendall. Roman was unpredictable and Shiv would’ve assumed that you had sold them out and this was a mind game. An opinion she’d probably make clear to everyone else and in some way to you as well.

There had always been significant sibling rivalry in the Roy household. But Shiv had always seen you as her competition in particular, you two were the only women and she lived in a man’s world always striving to prove herself out of spite and nature. Even now she still believed your kinder nature was an act to disarm. She never hid the looks of distrust in her eyes.

You were now home. You still had your apartment and stayed there occasionally but that was more to save face than anything else. Somewhere along the timeline of your relationship, you’d almost practically moved into Stewy’s apartment. The walk-in wardrobe was equally divided, and your favourite teas were in the kitchen. “It’s closer to your office” had been the justification at the time when he’d been encouraging you to stay over more.

It was surprising that you hadn’t been caught yet with that in mind, part of you would sometimes wonder if your siblings did know but they were saving it but you knew that if they did it would’ve come out to slap you in the face by now.

When you’d first met Stewy what felt like a million years ago you never would’ve expected something like this to happen. Then when this all happened and started a few years ago it was still, very unexpected. But he knew probably better than what anyone else would ever be able to comprehend what it meant to get seriously involved with a Roy, even one not involved in the family business. He and Kendall had an interesting friendship and history, with Stewy having been mostly good to your brother. But Stewy was always good to you.

As you let yourself in you kicked off your shoes lost in your thoughts but you quickly noticed Stewy wasn’t back yet. This wasn’t a surprise though, your job meant you got to work more of a typical 9-5. Something you were grateful for, it seemed like life was just one, endless business meeting and opportunity for everyone involved at Waystar.

You’d made yourself a cup of tea and were now leaning against the bench in the kitchen with it while scrolling on your phone. You had Google alerts set for all of your immediate family and Stewy, surprisingly there didn’t seem to be too much drama online today.

“Ugh, fuck!” Stewy’s voice boomed and you heard a bang.

“Shit, Stewy? Are you okay?” You quickly called out as you made your way over to the apartment's entryway.

“Yeah, just tripped over your shoes again.” Stewy responded with an amused expression as he took his shoes off and moved them along with yours out of the way.

This wasn’t the first time it had happened and Stewy knew it wouldn’t be the last.

“I’m sorry.” You said bashfully as you walked over to hug him, pressing a soft, playful kiss to his lips. “I guess, it’s a good thing you love me.” You kissed him again, teasingly nipping on his bottom lip that was in between yours.

“You’re such a brat baby.” Stewy smirked as his hand wrapped more firmly around your waist and he kissed you back.

“I thought you loved that?” You teased between kisses as each one became more heated and desperate with lust. Despite Stewy often being caught or easily roped into your family drama he was the best distraction, escape and companion from everything.

“I do.” Stewy breathed out as he continued to kiss you and was now kissing your jaw.

“And I love you…” You whimpered out as his lips started to travel down your neck. He now had you pressed against the wall.

“And what is it that you love exactly baby?” Stewy purred out as he nibbled around your pulse point. He was always such a tease.

“I love your hair-” You moaned out as you dug your fingers into his soft, gorgeous curls that were always perfect. “Your voice, eyes, those goddamn turtlenecks, your smile, your colossal vocabulary-”

“Didn’t you say it was farcical the other day?” Stewy said as he stopped kissing you and looked at you.

“Stewy!” You whined out, you couldn’t feel his lips on you any more but you could still feel him against you but it wasn’t enough. You needed him. His gorgeous dark eyes were blown out with lust but he had his signature playful, mischievous smirk painted across his face as he cruelly teased you. “You’re such a tease.”

“I thought you loved that.” He quipped back. You rolled your eyes and took the bait.

“I do, I love how much of a tease you are.” He felt your breath against his neck as you spoke and then pressed a kiss against his neck, breathing him in. He always smelt so good, despite being a bit of a natural peacock it wasn’t showy, it was more subtle but strong enough. You were certain there was sandalwood in his cologne. “I also love how you feel inside of me.” You spoke as your soft lips kissed his handsome jaw, your soft lips a burning contrast against the tickle of his perfectly trimmed beard.

“Someone’s getting laid tonight.” Stewy got out, pressing his hips against you as you continued kissing along his jaw and neck, tugging his now tousled curls.

“That was the plan after all Mr. Hosseini.” You smirked against his neck, feeling him continue to harden against you. He let out a soft, melodic moan as you sucked softly on his neck.

“How does now sound?”

“Perfect.�� You left his neck to kiss him on the lips, you moaned against his mouth as his teeth clashed against yours.

One of his hands left your waist to quickly unbutton your pants. Once he’d done that, he quickly slipped a hand in, teasing you as he palmed you and then started to tease your bundle of nerves over your underwear. Your arousal had already started to dampen your underwear and it only grew with his attention. You continued to moan against him, as he gingerly traced a pattern.

“You’re already so wet and I’ve barely touched you.” Stewy teased. “So beautiful and needy.”

Stewy smirked as he felt you press into his hand more, even with the friction of your underwear, you needed more. You wanted him then and there. You kept hungrily kissing him, feeling starved. Stewy snaked a finger under your underwear and rubbed it along your clitoris for a few seconds before dipping it inside of you making you gasp.

“More, please Stewy.” You begged between kisses, panting as he chuckled.

“Such a desperate girl with a needy pussy.” Stewy whispered into your ear as he added a second finger in, he picked up the pace a bit he continued to finger you and his thumb moved to rub over your clitoris a few times. His fingers were covered in your slick and you didn’t have any interest in holding back any of your moans.

You stayed sandwiched between the wall and Stewy, just moving to press your head against his shoulder, the fabric of his blazer muffled some of your moans as he continued to finger you. You looked down and started to undo his belt and pants.

“What do you think you're doing baby?” Stewy asked in a low voice that was just making the space in between your thighs grow into an even bigger pool of dampness, you were melting against him.

“I want you.” You tilted your head up so it was still resting against his shoulder but you were now facing his neck more, you started to kiss his neck again, biting it softly and then licking it. “I want you to fuck me Stewy.”

“Beg.” Stewy breathed out as he let out a little moan as your tongue darted over his pulse point. His fingers were still entering you but not as deep as before and his thumb was painfully slowly, languidly massaging your bundle of nerves.

“Please Stewy. Fuck me, I need to feel you deep inside of me.” You nipped him softly right near his pulse point and revelled in the groan he let out at that. “Please, I’m begging you Stewy. I need you.”

“Tell me exactly what you need.” His thumb cruelly left your clitoris for a moment making you gasp out in shock but he added a third finger inside of you, getting to that soft spot that made you melt and his thumb gently returned to your clitoris after a few seconds.

“I uh, I-I need you. I need you inside of me now Stewy. I need to feel your cock inside of me.” You moaned out. “Nobody has ever and could ever fill me up the way you do. It feels so good, you make me feel so good. Pl-please Stewy. Please.” You mewled out and you couldn’t quite see his face but you knew it would have that beautiful arrogant smirk.

“I’ll fuck you, baby. I just need you to come for me first, you can do that, right? I can tell your desperate little pussy is already so close.” You nodded desperately, he wasn’t wrong. You were close to unravelling, he could tell from your breathing and how you weren’t just flooding his fingers but also clamping around him.

“I’m so close, Stew, fuck.” You moaned out, panting against his neck, it tickled him slightly. You bit your lip and moaned against his neck, he could feel the vibration of it and he loved that, that and the sound of your pleasure. You could feel it coming and gasped into his neck again as you came, Stewy could feel it and smiled as his fingering eased to a slower, gentler pace as you came down from your orgasm.

“How was that?” He smirked as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“It was- it was…” You paused for a moment as your breathing started to settle, your heart was still pounding from that high though. “Good.”

“Good? Only good?” He questioned with a tone of mock hurt.

“Just shut up and fuck me now, please Stew.” You bit his neck, just feeling even more needy for him than you did before.

“I thought you liked my colossal vocabulary and voice?” He teased as he playfully grinded into you “I distinctly remember you saying so a few minutes ago.”

“You’re so mean Stewy.” You giggled softly, gently pulling on the roots of his curls.

“Was that just to get me into your pants?” Stewy paused the grinding, his tone acting as if he was hurt and that the insinuation was possibly true.

“I guess not because that obviously didn’t work very well.” You responded, leaning back against the wall. He raised an eyebrow at you and then looked down at his belt. You rolled your eyes playfully and started to undo his belt, palming him. He was completely hard but you already knew this from when he’d been grinding into you.

“Bedroom baby.” Stewy moaned out as you pulled his hard cock out and rubbed it with one hand.

“You can fuck me here, you’ve done it before.” You pouted and he just chuckled as you kept up with your ministrations.

“You said I was mean, so you’re not getting it here. You can wait the whole ten seconds it takes to walk to the bed. Our bed for me to have my way with you.” Stewy’s voice was low and firm but there was still that natural teasing tone there.

You walked briskly to the bedroom that you two shared and Stewy followed and chuckled over the eagerness of your gait. As soon as you both were in the clean room, you kissed him hungrily again. He smirked and expertly unbuttoned your blouse as you pushed his blazer off. You kicked your pants and underwear off and he quickly followed suit.

Stewy pressed you into the bed and you tugged on the turtleneck he was still wearing to bring him closer to you and then started to push it up off him.

“Do you love my turtleneck baby?” Stewy teased as you did.

“Absolutely love it.” You breathed out with a smirk.

As soon as it was off and thrown to the floor, you were kissing each other again as if you couldn’t survive without the other. You were running your hands over Stewy’s back and up his neck to the luscious locks you loved as he quickly undid your bra. You were both now naked and he continued to kiss you as his hands cupped your chest.

You moaned out as he started to caress you and pinch your nipples. His lips travelled from yours down to your jaw, your throat, he kissed your breasts and teasingly licked along your nipple for a minute as he started to rub your heat with his other hand.

“Please Stewy.” You begged out in a desperate moan as your eyes were closed in pleasure.

“Please, fuck you?” He again teases as he starts to line himself up at your entrance.

“Yes, please that.”

Stewy stopped his teasing and happily obliged after what felt like an eternity of almost edging. He pressed his head into you and you gasped as he did, gently scratching his shoulders as he did. It wasn’t long till he was bottomed out, he waited a few seconds for you to adjust before he started to slowly thrust inside of you, eliciting the most melodic moans he’d ever heard.

“You’re so beautiful and tight, I love being inside of you baby.” Stewy cooed out as his pace quickly picked up a deeper and slightly faster rhythm.

“You feel so good Stewy, so good inside of me.” You mewled out.

Your words were literal music to his ears and it wasn’t long till he was grunting out as his thrusts became deeper and harder.

It was so easy to become lost in Stewy. Especially when he was fucking you like this, having his way with you in the bed you shared. How couldn’t you be lost in him when your eyes were open he was all you could see?

His scent was dizzying as it mixed with the sweat he’d built up from snapping his hips into yours, he was all you could feel, on you and in you, his grunts, words and the filthy sounds you were making together were all you could hear. Stewy was intoxicating, overwhelming, a sensory overload in the most spectacular way.

You were pulling on his hair as you felt him hitting that perfect soft spot deep inside of you. Your bundle of nerves was already sensitive from the teasing and your earlier orgasm and you could feel the warmth of another orgasm building.

Stewy wasn’t clueless about this, he could feel you clenching around him especially as he reached that sensitive spot of yours and you were flooding him in your arousal. Other than the feeling of being buried deep inside of you, Stewy couldn’t think of anything sweeter than the noises of your moan and whimpers and the sounds of the squelches made of him thrusting into you and being met with your juices.

Stewy continued to pound into you, his thrusts were faster and needier, and he was getting close himself. He pressed some sloppy kisses to your neck that warmed your insides up even more with desire and love for him. Stewy’s lips travelled back to yours and you opened your mouth inviting him in as your tongues and teeth passionately attacked each other.

The kiss became deeper and deeper, you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist and felt him groan at that against your lips which in turn made you smirk. You two continued to kiss and he started to rub your clitoris with his thumb, you moaned into his mouth at the sweet pressure and slightly writhed under him.

“That feels so good Stew.” You panted out as the kiss broke for a second and you both panted as he continued to thrust into you while rubbing a circular pattern on your bundle of nerves getting closer to their peak.

“You feel so good. I love you.” He panted out between moans, as his eyes rolled back at the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him.

“I love you too.” You moaned out, as your legs tightened slightly around him and you scratched his back. “I’m, so, so, so close.”

“Yeah? I can feel that baby. Oh fuck, I want you to come for me, come on my cock baby.” He encouraged as he continued. Kissing along your pulse point, fully knowing that would drive you closer to your climax.

You moaned out while scratching his back and pulling on his hair as you unravelled from your orgasm. Stewy smirked against your neck and continued to massage your sensitive bundle of nerves and thrust at the same, perfect speed as you chased your orgasm and rode out that high.

“Thank you, baby, that was so good. I want you to come, to fill me up.” You panted out as you placed a hand to cup his cheek as his hips continued to snap back into yours.

“Fuck, I’m pretty close.”

You dug your nails into his back as he felt you clench around him in the most spectacular way as you orgasmed and post that. He began to chase his own high and you knew he was close as his thrusts spread up and the pace was more sporadic than rhythmic.

After a couple more minutes of thrusts, Stewy grunted and kissed you more desperately than he had all day and finally chased his own climax and finished inside of you. Before he pulled out the kiss changed to a gentle, affectionate one and you lightly combed your hands through his hair and then ran them along his face and jaw as he kissed you like that.

Stewy kissed your forehead softly and then pulled out to go towards the ensuite to get a washcloth to clean up the mess you had made together. He was so firm but gentle with you.

After that, he laid in bed again on his back, you were cuddled into his side, with your head on his warm chest feeling almost half asleep.

“What do you think of marriage now?” Stewy asked interrupting the peaceful post-sex silence. There was an air of playfulness but his voice was softer, quieter, almost sleepy.

“Pardon?” You shifted slightly off his chest to get a better look at his face. You were certain you’d heard him correctly but you weren’t sure if maybe you’d fully given into sleep and this was gibberish or a dream.

“We’ve talked about eloping before.”

“Yeah, yes we have but-”

“I wasn’t joking.” Stewy said as he gently held your chin between his index finger and his thumb. His voice was still soft but it was a bit firmer now, more serious than tired or playful. You bit your lip unsure of what to say as he continued to look into your eyes with his beautiful, diluted ones.

“You know what that would entail Stewy. Your career-”

“I do and-”

“Stewy.” You rested your chin on his chest looking at him. He could see that you were tired.

“So you don’t want to marry me right before your brother and Willa? Maybe a day or two after? Get that IUD out, then pop out a few babies. I’ll even be super fucking generous and get a vasectomy.” His tone was more teasing now and you had a feeling the humour wasn’t completely genuine but partially a cover-up of possible hurt.

“Sweetie, I love you. Can we talk about this tomorrow? Maybe not talk about this ‘post-coitus’.” You offered him a small smile and combed your fingers through his hair, admiring the dark locks and the stunning strands of silver.

“Yes ma’am.” Stewy nodded and kissed your forehead. You settled back into his chest and it wasn’t long until you had dozed off in his arms and on the comfortable pillow of his chest with the reassuring sound of his heartbeat.

********

You’d been the only one of your siblings to stay for Connor’s wedding. Weddings were just business opportunities in the world of the Roys, grief couldn’t exist with the market and leadership decisions. You didn’t like how the wedding or death side of that traumatic day went down or how it was handled but unexpected deaths weren’t meant to be convenient or follow logic.

You were now in your deceased father’s penthouse at his wake, having spent most of the morning hiding in a corner from as many eyes as possible. You’d really only spoken to Connor and Willa, your other siblings were in a sitting room being as business-focused as possible.

It had been a little while into the Wake and you were with your siblings when Stewy and the Furnesses came in. Connor and Willa had been the easiest to talk to which wasn’t really anything new. Kendall and you occasionally made little remarks to each other and even you and Shiv exchanged some looks over other people’s comments or well, audacity.

You took Stewy’s handsome face in, he looked well-rested and fresh-eyed despite the fact that he’d been up most of the night with grieving you. He was handsomely dressed and groomed as always. You wanted to be held by him again, to leave and be curled up in a ball with him. Normally you two acted amicably when your paths crossed in the Roy world and public like this. But you were too depressed and exhausted for the usual furtive nature.

He’d hugged and given his condolences to your sister Shiv and then she’d moved on to Sandi. You looked at Stewy and gave him a small smile, he went to give you a hug and a faux kiss on the cheek as he did for Shiv but you needed more than that, you needed him. You genuinely hugged him and pressed your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat, a firm, undeniable reminder that he was there was always comforting. You didn’t care that your siblings were nearby, it wasn’t an indecent act.

Stewy couldn’t and wouldn’t say no to affection from you ever, let alone in your state in this context. He reciprocated the genuine hug and you held onto him for maybe a few seconds longer than you should’ve if you wanted to avoid the suspicion of your siblings.

You pulled away despite never wanting to do and tilted your head to see that he was looking at you warmly, sympathy written all over his eyes. His hands had moved to softly rest on the sides of your arm, the touch was comforting but could easily be perceived and argued as platonic to an onlooker. He had a small, genuine smile on his face as he looked at you.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey.” You responded back quietly. You wanted to kiss him, you were almost tempted to and then Kendall was quickly whisking Stewy away.

You went back to your corner and eventually, you were joined by Kendall and Roman. You saw that Stewy was making his rounds of small talk and his eyes occasionally wandering, searching for you to see where you were and how you were doing.

“Have you thought about psychoanalysing yourself?”

“What?” You questioned exhaustedly as your mind was pulled away from stealing glances at Stewy by Roman’s words.

“That was a bit too touchy with Ken-doll’s boyfriend.” Roman retorted. “I didn’t realise jumping on your brother’s BFF was one of the five stages of grief.”

“Excuse me?” You now glared at him.

“Oh, I guess it must be a new one they added in. Are you gonna get a model named after yourself? Or are you saving the Roy model for something more fucked up?”

“I’m not doing this Roman.” You sighed in exasperation and walked off to find a glass of wine but were quickly disturbed again.

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t actually know about you two,” Kendall smirked as he whispered to you.

“What the fuck Ken?” You jumped at the fright from Kendall, you were grateful that you were still empty-handed or else you’d have stained your outfit if not all of your surroundings from your brotherly jumpscare. Your reaction just made Kendall’s smirk grow. “You knew? But Stewy never told you.”

“He didn’t. I figured out a while ago that you two were uh…” He dramatically paused for a moment as if he was thinking of the right word with a teasing smirk. “Copulating.”

“Ken!” You elbowed him softly to try and get him to quieten down. “Why did you never say anything?” You quietly questioned.

“Well, it was pretty fucking weird at first. He’s not the worst Harvard finance bro out there.” Kendall said with a playful expression. “He keeps you happy-adjacent right?”

“Yeah, he does. Thank you.” You gave Kendall a tight-lipped but grateful smile.

“You know, you don’t have to hide it anymore right?”

You looked up at Kendall, questioning him with your eyes. You and Stewy’s relationship was complicated and you’d say it was pretty healthy despite the furtive nature, it had been that way for everyone’s personal and professional sake. Kendall’s smirk started to slowly slip as he took in your expression.

“He’s dead.” Kendall spoke softly as you stared into each other’s eyes, he placed his hand on your arm as his face grew more serious. You eyed Kendall trying to find the right words. Sure your father had been part of it but it was a complicated situation with many pieces.

“I could live with dad icing me out, cutting that relationship. I made peace with what that is a while ago. But-but, it’s when Roman, Shiv, and you. That’s what really hurts.”

“That’ll be all that Roman says and well Shiv, she’ll only say anything about it behind your back.”

“So comforting and reassuring.” You dryly said.

“I’ll send you the invoice for Kendall Roy’s Therapy.” He teased and you both chuckled dryly at that.

There wasn’t much else to say to that and you knew Kendall wasn’t ready to talk about the bigger problems yet so you gave your brother a tight hug that he quickly reciprocated. You stayed in each other’s arms for a few moments, it was healing and reassuring in a way.

You then left to sit on a miraculously empty couch as Kendall went off to talk to Roman and Shiv again about company matters you didn’t want to hear about and that they wouldn’t want to discuss in front of you or Connor anyway. As you sat there, Stewy caught your eyes again and this time he finally came over. He sat next to you on the sofa but left a reasonable, person-sized gap between the two of you.

“Kendall knows, you know.” You quietly state looking at him tiredly, the events of the last 24 hours and your lack of sleep were quickly catching up with you.

“Well, I’m in private equity not acting baby.” You scoff at that and smile, sinking a little further into the sofa.

“Perspicuously not in comedy either, babe.” You say with a smile that grows. You tilt your head to look at his expression, his big beautiful eyes are watching you and there’s the cocky smile plastered on his face that you’re in love with.

“I’ve learnt it’s best to save the wit for the Roys.” He shoots back with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Stewy’s here and he’s being cheeky for your sake. You love that about him, his tongue isn’t biting like your siblings but his humour is a way of showing up.

“Do you want to go on the balcony for a minute?” You questioned. “I want some fresh air.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” He leaned his hand over that empty space of safety between you two to squeeze your hand for a second before you got up and he then followed you.

He leant against the railing and watched you once you were both out on the much more, pleasantly quiet balcony.

You laid your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around him, listening to his heart calmly beat as he pressed his chin against the top of your head and exhaled. Stewy’s thumb was tracing reassuring patterns on your arm. He hummed softly for a moment and you could feel the vibration of it on the top of your skull.

You and Stewy both knew this was a sure way to be caught but neither of you cared in this moment and didn’t care about any of the consequences. They were manageable, they felt minor now and realistically they were. This would shift the family dynamic and having furtive hands with your lover always seemed to you to be in the best interests of Stewy’s career and the dramas between him, Kendall and Waystar.

You were pretty okay with being out in the open with Stewy and he felt the same way. As the relationship went on, he wanted that more and more. His post-coitus conversation was serious and not a post-orgasm thought.

“You were serious about eloping before Connor’s wedding weren’t you?”

“Probably poor taste to say it right now but yes baby, dead serious.”

You laughed at that and he felt it vibrate against him and it made him smile. He just wanted to bring you a bit of comfort and joy on an awful day like today.

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

“Are you saying you want to get eloped?”

“Well, I was thinking of leaking the story to ATN that Stewy Hosseini is so whipped by the Roys that he gets a vasectomy for one and not the one they’d expect.” You teased, laughing a bit more and he laughed as well.

“Well, as much as I think we could find you something short to wear as an elopement dress, maybe something fun and scandalous like Sharon Tate’s since you like those old flicks. I don’t think we should leave your dad’s wake to go off and elope, might be the cultural upbringing differences but seems a little rude to me.” Stewy teased, you laughed and kissed him on the lips softly for a moment.

“How does tomorrow sound?”

“For an elopement?” “Yeah.”

“Perfect.”

581 notes · View notes

bowieandqueen11 · 1 year

Text

Kissing Roman Roy Would Include...

Request: oh my god! your kendall roy kissing headcanons were adorable! would it be possible to get some for roman as well? i just know that man is touch starved and definitely had an awkward time kissing the reader early on in their relationship. obviously, you can choose to ignore but thank you!

Awww yes of course you can get some my love this man is 100% touch starved you’re so right <3

LADS OKAY I’M COMING BACK TO SAY THIS IS NEARLY 7K AND MY LONGEST FIC BY FAR LMAOO BABYGIRL CODED anyway comments are much appreciated because I am so tired lol ty ty ily all! :)

Warning: mentions of injuries/ blood, childhood abuse, and some swearing! Also MAJOR spoilers for Season 4!!

(I do not own Succession or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @xihatiancai.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

We all really took one look at Roman Roy and went wet pathetic disgusting meow meow man I love you, and I really love and appreciate that for all of us. Because like... if not babygirl, why babygirl coded?

The first time you guys ‘kissed’, you were both around seven years old: on the tennis court, Shiv had sent a ball flying at Roman that had bent his hand backwards, and left quite a nasty gash of blood running down his arm. Instead of comforting the brother she had just bruised for the umpteenth time, the set of Roman crawling down to sit on the grass while cradling his arm just made her furious, and she went storming off towards the kitchen for some chocolate milk to cool down. You had been watching from the doubles side line, dropping your own racket as soon as Roman began to snivel, squeezing his skin back together and wincing as warm blood gushed out onto the grass. You run over to kneel in front of him, the harsh rays of light blushing across your head like a halo as you grab onto his elbow. You press the back of your shirt against it, hoping it will do until a nurse or one of the waiters comes running out with a first aid kit; as you glance up, the furious face of his father comes pacing past the balcony doors, and so you turn Roman’s head to look at you instead, praying that he won’t spot him. It will only make him whine more. It surprises you when he curses curtly instead at the feel of your fingers pressing down hard against his wound, but when you mumble an apology he finally stops scowling down at the ground and looks up: it’s as if he’s seeing you properly for the first time. His eyes light up as you gently lean down and press a kiss against the bloodstains; just the slightest hint of pressure, and tingling warmth of your your lips is enough to send a flourish through his body and make Roman Roy feel nourished. No longer withered, no longer left to rot. Roman gazes up at you: past the dappled sunlight, past the dotted clouds, past the earth and skies and heavens, and past it all he sees you.

You’re the first and last person he’s ever wanted to kiss. Like craving poison, he knows it will pass through and destroy him if he allows himself to indulge. But by god, if it wouldn’t taste so sweet as it pours down his throat and overwhelms every dilapidated part of his body.

The first time he works up the nerves to kiss you back, is in one of the pool storage huts just past the outer boundaries of his father’s estate. Shiv had finally convinced her father to allow her out into the city to go shopping for some new suits, and Ken had been chained into a business meeting to take notes for Logan, so Roman had been left all alone to wander around the ostentatious shadows and lonely halls of the house he hated to call home. Feeling trapped, like he couldn’t breathe, he wanders towards the ‘safe space’ the two of you had created a couple of years ago: a small nook you and Roman had spent the day nestling out (and nearly breaking his arm shoving unused surfboards and pool cleaning chemical boxes) in the dim, and slightly damp room. Finally feeling at home as he stepped into the mildew-steeped scent cloud that enveloped the square box stuffed full of things his father had wanted out of his sight, his heart is allieved to spot you already there. You don’t even have to look up from your book as he comes dawdling towards you like a puppy afraid it’s about to be kicked. When you open your arm up to him willingly, the true him comes leaping forth: like a darting hummingbird, he comes flying into your side, nestling his chin on the hard part of your shoulder so he can scan the words lazily past your head. After about half an hour of him gripping onto your shirt, as sweet and softly as infant spring, he glances up towards your face and an overwhelming urge overtakes him. Before he can stop himself, before he can make sense of his decision, before he can chide himself for his weakness, he lifts his head up and presses his lips firmly, if a little harshly, against the side of your cheek. Your book crashes to the floor with a thunderous slap, lifting a small cloud of dust as you raise your fingers to the wet spot in surprise. He immediately shuffles backwards at the noise, before making an awkward, fumbling excuse and running out the door.

He never brings it up again, but whenever you’re round at the Roy residence after that you can feel the intensity of his eyes land on you far more often. He blinks away and scratches the back of his neck nonchalantly whenever you catch him, or sometimes scrunches his nose up and starts biting the edges of his fingernails if he’s really nervous. But the love is there. He just can’t say it yet.

Once, when you were the only person in the house besides Connor and Logan, you were asked by the second-born eldest son to help him find Romie. With a concerned sigh, Connor wanders off to check behind the bathroom door off the living room, his lips forming a tight line as he disappears off down the corridor. Turns out, Logan had found out that Roman had been the one to spill his ice cream cone in the car on the way back from his fencing lesson, and Roman had run off cursing and crying when he heard the roar reverberate out from his father’s office at the news. You know where he is, instinctively. Of course you do: you don’t even need to think as your feet guide you towards his bedroom, and your body shrinks down to scoot under the bed and lie on the pristinely clean floorboards. He’s hiding behind the tendril weeds of his fear, making himself as small a target as possible as he balls himself up, trembling like heavy branches when lanced with frost. From behind his raised elbows that protect his face, he’s sniffling, his feet leaving the ground every few seconds from how harshly they shake. You lie down carefully on your side beside him, so hyperaware of any part of yourself brushing against him, in case the wounded creature decides to bolt. Thankfully, he comes sliding towards you, only stopping when your chest does the job for him; being as physically close as he can get to you, he huddles into your embrace while you stroke back the few curls by his ear. Once you’ve finally managed to choke back your own tears, your lips latch onto the spot of skin by the lobe of his ear, eyes closing and ticking his skin. He warbles against you, shivering, and the kiss just makes him whine more harrowingly against your chest.

Romie’s always around you. Always. He finds it difficult to actually be physically intimate, so it says quite plainly (even if you can’t understand it yet) that you’re the love of his life when he comes barrelling down the front stairs of the veranda and straight into your hug whenever your first foot falls onto the estate. It also means that during family dinners, when he’s finally mastering the skill of slouching back in his wishbone chair and tuning out all the horrible and spiteful things wrapped up in faux sincerity his family are saying about each other, he turns instead to kick your feet under the table. The brush of his ankle against your shoe is soon followed by the heavy pressure of his fingers reaching over onto your lap and entangling with your own. When the two of you are finally excused, you decide not to go back inside straight away. Instead, the two of you go for a dander around some of the verdant fields around the edges of the property: a few green patches here there that are filled with the scent of honeysuckle and freshly blooming rainbows splattered amongst the dirt. You decide to stop and sit for a while on the edge of a cobbled stone wall, laughing as Roman nearly falls off the uneven patch as he settles down beside you. He shrugs you off with a wave of his hand, but he’s smiling as you pluck a daisy from between the blades and tuck it behind his ear. For a while, the two of you just exist: watching the sunset brew violet and lilac gleams across your eyeline, talking shite and poking fun at each other, until Roman shyly takes a break from his rapid talking to blink slowly. He leans his torso forward, and after a bashful burn flickers over his cheeks, he squeezes his eyes shut and plants a wet kiss against your cheek, just like he had done all those years before.

He climbs into your room later that night, and you nearly hit him with a baseball bat when you come strolling out of your bathroom to see a teenager laying splayed out in a heap on your rug, a few pages of your homework flying over your desk from where he had banged his knee and tripped. With a lopsided grin, he decides to just stay lying there (once you had convinced him that you weren’t going to actually hit him). Sometimes Roman just likes to watch what you’re doing: to observe as an outsider what normality, what contentment should and could feel like. As you sit by your lamp and finish off your english essay for the next morning, you notice with furrowed eyebrows that Roman is moochier than normal tonight: he keeps squirming, rolling about and whining as if he’s debating something in his mind. That’s why when he’s gripping onto the ivy and finally climbing back down into the darkness later that night, you grab onto the collar of his sherpa jacket and heave him up through the air like a flustered bird towards you. After his initial surprise at the feeling of you pounding your lips against his own, he melts into you: clumsily, messily, desperately, but with one hand gripping so hard onto your window frame that he splinters the wood. His top lip refuses to let you go: capturing onto your bottom lip over and over and over again, the sweet taste of cherry flooding your senses as you bite down on the lip forcing its way into your mouth. When he pulls away, he looks so uncharacteristically serious for a moment as he hovers a few inches away from your face. His eyes never break from your lips, as if he he looks away the miracle he’s been graced with might fly away and he’ll be left with the hellish nightmare of his normal reality. But it doesn’t, and so you let him go.

He burns a crimson red and starts muttering incoherently as his feet work their way back down the garden lattice, but he’s got this giddy smile and a spring in his swishing walk the whole way home.

I mean, like, of course Connor invited you on the camping trip. And man, I mean the tension that had been expanding between you and Roman over the last few years was becoming more and more obvious to his brothers, and it pierced Roman’s heart with a stroke of fear when he realised it was to him as well. Connor’s little fishing expedition by the river turned out a little differently than he expected: instead of a placid moment between family, learning and teaching new skills together and bonding over one activity they could all share in, it was more of a ‘watch little gremlin Roman flirt obnoxiously with Y/n and, once again, ignore everyone else’ fest. Kendall sat on the shore, itchy against the reeds of grass and sighing every time he looked down at his watch. Connor was still having fun, though, from where he was wading his brand new, and never worn again wellies into the shallow end of the creek. It was just that every now and then he would have to trip over his fishing line and scoot to the right to avoid large splashes of weedy water landing on him; Roman had decided a much better use of his time was to try and pull up handful of mud and chase you around the river side with it. Your squeals, as you ran around the tamarack trees and peered around the sides like a meerkat, could be heard from the campsite. So, too, could Roman’s hyena laugh as he went laughing around the bend after you, and Connor had to spend half the night ignoring your shared snickers as he apologies to camper after camper.

I don’t even know how, but somehow the two of you managed to convince Connor that it was a great idea for you and Roman to share a tent. Thanks to Kendall’s pointed warning for the two of you to behave and ‘not embarrass the family name anymore’, you were both surprisingly well behaved during the night. Mainly due to the fact that before you fell asleep, you leant over and left a chaste kiss against Roman’s cold forehead, before turning onto your side facing him and wishing him a goodnight. He wiggled down into his sleeping bag like a little worm as the electricity from your touch spread down like firebolts through his body. That man did not sleep one wink that night. Not one. Instead he rolled onto his left side, and chose to spend his time contemplating you: taking you in. The milky buzz of twilight flooded through the loose zip, the chirp of bouncing crickets on the darkened rocks outside match the intense thudding of his heart. Fumbling his fingers up so they rested underneath the side of his jaw, he made himself comfortable as he observed the way your chest rose and fall: the way your nose crinkled up in disgust when you were in the throes of a weird dream, the way your mouth mushed as you turned more into the stony ground. How much he loved you. How happy he could be if he could just summon the bravery to tell you. How fucked he was. How, if he did, his father would immediately utilise it, weaponize his love against him.

Roman wasn’t stupid, but he was. He didn’t know if he could find a way to escape this cage. Deep in his heart, he knew there was no key to this dog kennel, to this bird cage, to this leash. But he lay there, still, dreaming of freedom.

You get invited along on their family holidays a lot, mainly because Logan spends his whole time on phone calls and not mentally being present so he doesn’t really notice you’re there. If you and Roman aren’t spending the afternoons sitting together on a sun lounger, reading aloud softly to him by the pool side, it’s spent actually in the pool. A freshly seventeen year old Roman had seemed nervous, besides the usual annoyance at having to wear nothing but swimming shorts: shaken all day; when you touch his pinkie finger and grip onto it, silently asking him with your stern expression if you were okay, only the most miniscule of grins could cross his face in response. He still seemed unsettled in the water, besides the fact that Shiv’s foot nearly thwacked him up the face as she and Kendall wrestled each other under the water, both unrelenting in their accusation that the other had lost their splashing match. While you watched on in horrified curiosity, you nearly jumped when you felt Roman softly touch your elbow and lead you away from the affray. You think he’s trying to guide you towards the Jacuzzis as you bob across the water, or perhaps back to his room to escape the antics of his family. Instead, Roman leads you further into the deep end for a moment; after a sharp turn right, you’re surrounded by a small well, a shallow area just out of sight of the main swimming area. The imposing walls loom over your head as you take a perched seat on the brick bench that runs around the semi-circle, and Roman’s breath trembles as he follows suit, sitting maddingly close to you. You open your mouth to ask him what’s going on, but before you can get a squeak out he’s lunged at you, fervently enough to make you nearly bite your tongue. It’s not super romantic, and it’s incredibly clumsy as an inexperienced Roman Roy mashes his lips against your bottom one until he can feel his teeth clash against yours. You can taste a touch of pineapple from the inside of his mouth as he sloppily raises his cupid’s bow, and soon after the tang of chlorine as he falls too far forward and sends you both tumbling backwards into the water. But when you come back up for air, heaving him up by his underarms and staring dumbstruck at him as he pants heavily and tries to look anywhere else, you burst out giggling. Roman’s smile grows brightly enough to blight the sun as he looks incredulously at you, the laughter only stopping short on his lips when he catches the squinting look of his sister watching the two of you from the boundary edge.

It’s the first and last time Roman Roy kisses you for a while, terrified that one of his siblings will go squealing to daddy and he’ll take you away from him. And then, suddenly, the two of you have grown up. Roman’s still stuck to you like glue, but the repression festers away in his stomach until he feels as if some kind of scaly tooth monster is gnawing away at his insides. He feels the leather tighten around his neck whenever he’s standing like an affronted ostrich in that office with his father, his master, his demise, his ghost, him.

So, Roman starts to try and avoid you whenever he’s at Waystar, worried that the grief that never seems to leave his mind will strangle you if he lets you in. Terrified that his father will die, but also that his father will never die. That this is just another cage. Eventually, after weeks of him turning on his heels with a manic jolt and running out of every board room he spots you in: after months of the child dressed up as a man putting his phone to his ear and having nonsensical phone calls every time he passes you in the corridors, you manage to nab him when he’s walking out of the break room. Even though a stuttering cousin Greg thinks you’re trying to kidnap him when you grab Roman by the collar and start dragging him to the elevator, you refuse to let go until Greg’s waving hand is firmly shut behind the metal sheets. You let go, and he fumbles backwards onto the hand-rail that runs around the small rectangle with a bemused ‘what the actual fuck’, but you just cross your arms and stare at him, refusing to talk first.

Your austere façade quickly drops, and you’re quick to slam your first into the emergency button on the panel, gripping onto Roman’s sleeve as the elevator lurches to a stop between the twenty-second and twenty-third floors. A kind of acceptance has washed over Roman, some kind of known and familiar claustrophobia from having spent his whole life locked up, his whole life thrown about sets in. He picks at his fingernails as his eyes dart about, wild and brutal and crushing as he looks around for an escape route. It’s only when you put a hand on his shoulder and draw him in for a hug that he breaks down; he squats down so the two of you are resting a few inches off the floor, his face buried just atop of your heart as he shakes and he cries and he allows himself the security to just crumble. To melt down. To kick his feet and hope his father feels the wring of the shackles against his own ankles. He hopes for the first time in his life, as you stroke the back of his head and shush him comfortingly, that they hurt him.

Something changes between the two of you that day. You’re kinder to each other, and slowly to yourselves. It’s not outspoken, or rushed, or ravenous, but it begins to grow and grow and grow until it’s not only confusion and anguish that lies at the pit of Roman’s rotting core.

It starts with him becoming more comfortable showing affection to you around his family. Like you sitting on Roman’s lap at Shiv’s wedding reception, not listening to the speeches but trying to hide your giggles in Roman’s palms as he’s busy trying to take roses out of the centre piece and pin them through your hair. Or his full weight against you during the professional photos out on the balcony, and not even Shiv flicking her brother or Tom waving his hand at Roman to try and get him to behave could stop him from leaning backwards and planting a kiss underneath your jawline once the man said he was taking the final photograph. The two of you go out into the gardens later that night, trying to escape the ear-hammering loud beats of the D.J., and to try and make an early escape from the growing fight that seemed to be coming between Tom and Shiv’s old work acquaintance. With two beers and slightly tipsy heads, you sit down and talk on the dew-ridden grass, shoulders swaying against the other’s in time with the falling pine leaves. You felt like children again, and against the smouldering clash of fireworks that brandished the sky in bursts of red and gold, you both felt undying as well. He kisses you then, his hand reaching up to brush against the side of your cheek, his bottom lip teasingly tugging at your bottom lip and making you swat him away with a laugh. As you take his hand in your own and press a promise filled kiss against his middle knuckle, he hopes that one day he’ll be able to kiss you at your own wedding.

When you know he’s having a rough day at work, you like to try and sneak into his office and wrap your arm around his stomach, peppering kisses up and down his spine. Although he tries to shake you off like a startled starling at first, when he realises that you also managed to close the blinds on your way in without him noticing, he quickly relinquishes himself onto your barrage of adoration. He becomes all whiny, and soft, and needy, and all the things he’ll never allow himself to be outside of the security blanket of this closed off room. Although he still isn’t comfortable with anything too sexual, you won’t find him complaining as he wrestles you to the sofa. Once you’ve had the wind knocked out of your lungs, and Roman’s satisfied with how fully you’re splayed out on your back before him, he’ll go scuttling over to the end of the sofa and kneel down beside it. With a mischievous glimmer in his eye, he’ll swish his hips from side to side and come crawling up the sides of his body like a wolf slinking towards its dinner. Then he attacks: his tongue heavy and slick as he draws a hickey out just under the pulse point on your neck, pressing him firmly against you if you try to squirm away, chiding you with a warning. When it becomes too much, he lets you grip him up by his tie and walk him backwards until his thighs hit his desk. He jumps up to perch on it, and you stand between his legs as they tighten around you. You’re slow and careful as you loosen the material between your fingers, opening the first button of his shirt, and only the first so he doesn’t become too uncomfortable, with a satisfying loud pop. He whimpers as you lean over to scrape your teeth against the exposed skin, working your way up until your lips are tantalisingly hovering over the stubble on his jaw. He can feel your breath, hot and unsteady as it pants against him, but he still can’t stop the shiver that racks through him as he takes your hand and guides them under his shirt. With your hands firmly planted against his abdomen, you look at him quizzically, worried, but he just keeps his fingers on top of your own and answers you by sweetly pressing his top lip over his own. Just once, he wanted to feel safe, to feel okay with the love of his life touching his body.

The two of you have this game where you try to steal kisses from each other during the most inappropriate and annoying times possible. Oh, Shiv’s trying to talk to you in her kitchen about how her trip to England went? Roman barges in between the two of you, nearly making Shiv chop her thumb off, just so he can interrupt his sister by smirking against your mouth. Kendall wants to run through a presentation the two of them have to give the next morning? You’re grabbing onto Roman’s head as you run through the office, nearly giving him a heart attack as he scrambles backwards and allows you to drop his head back onto the cushion. With a full plant landing on his already pliant lips, Kendall’s left with a fed-up ‘hey’, yet unsurprised look of disappointment on his face as you run off back to your own desk.

When his father called Romie a moron in Prague, the look of desolation that crossed through his teary eyes was enough to make an angel weep. But it broke you even more when he pattered out of the dining area, walking shoulder to shoulder with you, but not saying anything. He was just staring down at his hands as if they were blotted: stained with specks of blood, and he would have to spend another sleepless night scrubbing them out of his skin. It wasn’t the first time he heard it, but it was the first time you were there to hear it too, and you weren’t going to let him get comfortable wallowing in that fearful acceptance. You grip onto his shoulder and steer him away from the milling crowd of sheep, stuffing him into a bathroom stall of the east wing of the hotel. Crowded together, Roman’s hamstring bumps against the porcelain as the two of you scoot about until you’re standing facing each other as best as you could. He looks at you, bleary eyed, and you look at him, bleary eyed. He breaks. Choking, gasping, breathless sobs, drowning in his misery. He grabs onto your shirt, clawing into the meat of your shoulders as if he’ll sink if he lets go. He keeps babbling through bubbles of spit about how he just wants to make his father proud, how he wants to be just like him, how he wants to prove that he can rule all this too. How he can never replace him. But he can. He wants it all to burn, but he wants to stand on the ruins and be the one to plant the foundations again. To make a better world, in honour of his father: in honour of the god of war that rages within his head. You press quick kisses on his sweaty forehead whenever you can, doing your best to dodge the quick turns of his head and wiping away the trails of tears with your thumb. All you can do in that moment, as you press your lips against the side of his ear and whisper it to the most intimate, lost parts of himself, is to let him know that you’re proud of him, no matter what happens next. You always have been, and even the ghost of Logan that possess Roman can’t stop that.

The sloppy kisses he gives you the next morning omg. When the two of you are sitting on your bedroom steps, and you’re biting your bottom lip in concentration as you try to do up the buttons of his dress shirt and make him look presentable in front of his family. Like a feral dog, he uses all of his leftover energy trying to nip and bite your fingertips, catching them on his tongue and pursing them against the roof of his mouth whenever he can.

You cannot convince me that Roman isn’t a jealous bitch. Like at Kendall’s fortieth birthday party, when he finally gives up trying to get up into his special little secret treehouse club, and Shiv has left him to go ham on the dance floor instead. You finally manage to convince him into relaxing for a fricking minute, making him join you at the bar. If someone tries to grab your waist, though, or butt into your conversation while the two of you are hyena giggling and seeing who can spurt more beer into the other’s face, Roman will full on goad them into fighting him. I mean, chest puffed out, crazed look in his face, hands up by his side until they send a weak shove in their general direction. It only ends when Roman either: near topples you to press a bracing kiss against your lips, or you dragging him off and having to hold him through the brackets of his arms. In the corner of the room, over by the sheets of warbling fire that seems to be coming from a central room, you stand behind his feet and wrap your arms up his chest. You can feel the fury roll off him, allowing him a moment to blow off the steam, until his head finally falls like putty and begins to synchronise his breathing to yours again after you hold your lips against the nape of his neck.

The kisses when he comes back after being held hostage (I am doing this so out of order apologies) omg??? He clambers sombrely to sit beside you on the deck of the boat, looking so out of place and serious as he leans back against the cushions. His siblings make fun of him, and tease him, and although he realises it’s harmless and he’ll see it as a key bonding moment a couple of years down the line, in the inside the typical Roy storm is brewing. He can’t say anything: just hides behind the jokes and snide comments so the words don’t choke him. You just feel his weight fall against yours little by little, until his hand reaches out and takes your own so tightly you know it’s going to bruise. The muscle in his jaw tightens and he squeezes his eye shut in an enduring pain at the sight of his father’s helicopter coming in to land. So, for that kind second before his life comes crashing back down around him again and he has to revert back, to hide behind the brick wall again, you take him over to the railings. It’s just the two of you, the warm sea salt stinging against your grimacing faces, and the ungodly sight of a near-naked Cousin Greg lying stretched out beside the slide below you. After a few goes, you manage to unlatch his claws from the white metal and replace them with your soothing palm, rubbing semi-circles against the back of his hand. You’re here. You’re here, with him. You’re not going to let him go it alone again, if he wants.

And he does. He could cry, he so desperately does. Some of the tension falls from his shoulders as he raises your joint hands to his lips and kisses them, gracing over every inch of skin his mouth can latch onto.

You both know, in that moment, that it’s enough. It’s a promise. You’ll stick together, no matter what. You’ll love each other through everything, no matter what. You’ll stay around, no matter what or who he becomes.

Which brings me to... kissing him when you find out about the passing of his father. Standing on that boat, on the most joyous of occasions, feeling as if the whole world is shattering around you. Feeling miserable at the knowledge that deep down, some part of you is overjoyed by the news. Feeling even more downtrodden to realise, as the streaky eyes and thousand-stare faces of the Roy siblings flash back and forth in your line of sight as they pass the phone to each other, that Logan will never really be gone. They’re talking to his lifeless, empty shell through the speakers, but it doesn’t matter, because he’s here in this room. He’s staring through their eyes. Talking in their quivering, harsh voices. Pounding through their feet. Tearing them apart as they try to cling onto each other. In their accusations that burst through their mouths innately. In the ordered instructions hurled out to keep business running smoothly. Hidden between the cracks of their voices as they sharpen their words and seethe them out between clenched teeth when the slightest chance of Logan even being dead is raised. He’s here, right now, as you let go of the death grip Kendall and Shiv have on both of your hands and catch sight of Roman rocking backwards and forth on the floor.

Giving a final squeeze of apology to Connor’s arm, you take Roman out of the room before he combusts. The whole air seems to be chilled: still, like something’s lurking unspoken between the threads of air. Like you’re leading Roman through the cold remains of a morgue. He wanders around for a minute, not even hearing the click of the door as you close it behind you. Not even crying. Not even speaking. For the first time in his life, he looks so much like his father. Too much. It scares you. Until eventually he just closes his eyes and trods over to the wall, thumping his forehead down on the cool metal until it burns. He holds his hand out to you, cufflinks gleaming like the edge of a knife past the ceiling lights, as if he’s offering a contract out to you. Apprehensively, your tentative hand creeps out and places itself gingerly on top of his own. He takes it, his dry lips latching onto you until the bridge of his nose is resting now upon your hand. The deal is done.

When you get back to your apartment though, and Romie finds out that Matsson wants him to fly out and meet him in Norway... that’s when Roman gets weird. Devastated. Freaks out. Grieves. You come out from your shower, wearing one of his suit shirts as your pyjama top, and he doesn’t even give a whistle of appreciation. Instead he’s crumpled on the floor by the canopy of your bed, cradling his knees to his chest, swearing into his kneecaps furiously. But you - you, oh god, you’re the only thing that can stop him from being swallowed up by Logan’s fury. You tilt his chin up during a tangled rush of expletives I don’t dare to copy down here, a scowl setting itself into his face like stone. It begins to soften when he realises you’re touching him, when he can feel the scrape of your nail around his jugular. You do your best to warble an unconvincing smile as you turn his head to the side, so you can better wipe your bottom lip against the edge of his throbbing mouth. You mould yourself to him, working at his pace as he winces at first, before slowly falling more and more easily into your grip. His hands loosen from his arms and fall onto your triceps as he deliriously tries to come back to himself through searching through the velvety warmness of your mouth: by swiping against your tongue and choking back his grievances as you pant into his open, waiting mouth.

You wake him up the next day with a fond kiss against the tip of his nose, and for the first time in a long while he smiles before he wakes fully up. The morning light cradles his bleary face as he sleepily runs a few fingers over the edge of your cheek, before cradling himself into your side again. He feels safe, weary, anguished, loved enough to fall asleep again, after pressing a few gentle licks behind your earlobes to try and hear you laugh again. Even through it all, his main concern is you.

You trace his features while he restlessly dreams, although he squirms from time to time and alludes you to the fact that he’s secretly awake. A kiss here, between the junctions of wrinkles on his furrowed forehead. A kiss there, on the patchy stubble just underneath his left ear. A few there on the dark circles underneath his eyes, until you’re balancing over him and holding yourself up by the hands splayed over his pillow. He just needs to be reminded he’s beautiful from time to time. That he’s perfect. That he doesn’t need to try and be someone else. To encapsulate his father.

But also like, Roman fucking hates Matsson. The way he looks at you during the whole field trip, like a hunter about to swallow its prey whole. Although the continuous comments about his family, and the two new Co-Ceo’s, and the legacy of his father make him burn down to the pit of his stomach with a white hot fury, he can deal with them if he would just leave you the fuck alone. He doesn’t take kindly to anyone but him looking at his soulmate with such adoration and lust in their eyes, so if that overgrown yeti gives you the up and down check out one more time he might actually just deck him in the middle of the retreat. He bites down on his tongue so harshly that his taste buds begin to bubble and prickle with blood, deciding it best to storm off and collect his thoughts before he lashes out and does something he can’t take back. You finally manage to track him down a little way off the beaten track, winding your way over some cobbled steps to find a branched alcove with nothing but a bench and a breath taking view of the gushing river down below. He’s hunched over with his fingers knotted over his knees, his lips so tightly drawn together that at first you don’t even spot the droplets of blood until he turns with a raised eye to look at you.

He knows it’s not your fault, so there’s no convincing or apologies when you join him. Just Roman finally getting all of that pent up sorrow and distress out. After an awkward moment of bouncing your foot up and down, you decide your best course of action is to just open your arm up to him again, like you used to do when you were children. At first he raises a confused eyebrow, before the realisation dawns over his face, and his features crumble. His lips purse, his throat bobbing as he heaves the tears back down, but he can’t stop his lips from trembling as he falls into your side. That kiss was the sweetest, as he leans his chin familiarly against your shoulder and bumps noses with your own. He frowns, sobbing at the knowledge that he can kiss you, finally, in the way he’s been yearning for all his life, and yet it all feels so wrong. So upside down. So far away from what he had dreaming. The freedom feels like a tether, and yet he juts his chin out and latches placidly onto your bottom lip anyway, the tears trickling down and falling between your mouths.

It’s an act of defiance. A key sliding into the lock. He still can’t say it, but he won’t allow himself to smother the feeling anymore. The first sip of poison gliding down his throat, and Roman prays as he presses his forehead tearfully against your own, that it would kill the Logan part of him first.

851 notes · View notes

delimeful · 5 months

Text

WIBAR Intermission: Visiting Home (1/3)

G/T July Day 17: Home

this intermission has 3 parts, taking place during different points in the WIBAR timeline. this chapter takes place before LMMR/Act 2 of WIBAR! baby time :)

shoutout to nyn for inspiring the last scene with Roman at the end!

warnings: negative assumptions, mentions of blood/hunting/injury, mild fear/nervousness, other than that it's all fluff (literally)

Despite the tension buzzing at the back of his skull, Virgil found that being planetside again was surprisingly… nice.

He would have preferred that it was an uninhabited area— or at least, that it wasn’t one of the only places in the universe that had aliens he really, really couldn’t afford to terrify— but he couldn’t deny that feeling the ground under his feet and the sunlight on his skin was soothing, a balm he hadn’t known he’d needed.

It wasn’t the same as Earth, not really, but Patton’s home planet was close enough to familiar that he found tension seeping from his overwrought muscles despite himself.

He shook some of the dazed contentment off, flicking a glance over his shoulder and reminding himself that if any of the locals saw him, it could spell Capital-D Disaster.

His little excursion into one of the less populated natural areas near the little port town was entirely unplanned, and all the riskier for it, but they simply hadn’t had any better options.

Patton had been putting off visiting his family for longer than anyone would have liked— first with the excuse of healing from his injuries, and then with the financial strain that had come from his crewmates dedicating the bulk of their time to searching for him, rather than doing their usual delivery and transport jobs.

(The strain of providing for an entire new off-the-books crewmate, too, Virgil knew. He tried to avoid taking up too much, resource-wise, but there was only so little he could eat before his symptoms went from barely-tolerable to unmanageable.

The adrenaline crash and resulting sprains after he’d intervened in the raiders’ attack had been a painful reminder that most days, his body felt like it was barely holding together at the seams.)

Finally, they’d managed to weave together a cover story believable enough that the trip was set in motion, with the caveat that Patton would go planetside to visit, and Virgil would stay on the ship, up in orbit, firmly out of range of discovery.

Patton hated the idea of lying to his loved ones, wanted more than anything to introduce Virgil and prove he wasn’t the monster the galaxy thought he was, but even his stubborn optimism hadn’t held up under the combined forces of the other 3/4ths of the crew.

It was too dangerous for word to get out about Virgil, especially after the close call they’d already had, narrowly averted thanks to Remyy. Between Logan’s points on the historical government response to rumors of rogue humans, Roman’s assertions that bounty hunters of all kinds would begin targeting them, and Virgil’s own intense discomfort with the idea of his existence being revealed to others when he’d only just gotten free, Patton had conceded, if a bit morosely.

So, things had proceeded according to plan… right up until Patton’s clutchmates commed in, requesting that they bring the Mindscape down so that they could fill Patton’s quarters and kitchen with a variety of gifts and supplies to remind him of home after he left.

Patton hadn’t been informed. A surprise, they’d said, meant to show their love and care for their sibling in a way that would linger as long as possible.

It was a cultural custom, apparently, and Patton’s hard headed tendencies must have run in the family, because they’d refused to take no for an answer without a good reason.

Unfortunately for the reason in question, informing them that there was another crew member onboard who couldn’t be seen by anyone else would only defeat the purpose of staying off planet in the first place.

And so, after very intense sweep of the ship to hide away any trace of Virgil’s presence, he’d swept his old cloak around his shoulders, followed Logan offboard, and let himself be guided to what seemed to be an unoccupied area of the coastal jungle that surrounded the local populace.

Logan had requested he stay in the general area until he returned from corralling the busybody relatives, and then rushed back to the ship where Roman waited, looking more harried than Virgil had ever seen him.

It was an awkward, stressful situation, sure. But he still couldn’t help but marvel a little at the thick, dark fronds of the trees and the almost powdery texture of the grey-white sand beneath his feet.

He hadn’t gotten very many chances to actually appreciate the wonder of being in space, on alien planets, with how much of his stay so far had either been locked in cages aboard ships or on the run, too busy trying to survive to take in the scenery.

Running his fingers over the corkscrew-patterned bark of one of the nearby tree trunks, Virgil didn’t notice the slight rustling of a nearby brush.

—

Marren had thought the alien an intruder at first, had skidded to a halt and narrowly avoided toppling out of the underbrush right in front of them.

Behind her, Robbyn and Denel tumbled against her back with the beginnings of peeped complaints at the interruption of their game.

“Ssst!” Marren made a whistle that was more air than sound, her baby feathers ruffling up in pre-emptive upset. “Quiet, there’s a stranger!”

Unlike any other game, her playmates immediately went silent, eyes growing round and nervous. They all knew better than to catch the attention of a maybe-dangerous unfamiliar alien.

Especially now. One of the older kids had told horror stories about smugglers when the grown-ups weren’t listening, insisting that straying fledglings would get all their feathers shredded off and fed to the horrible monsters at the bottom of the Spacesea, where starlight and ships alike couldn’t reach.

They’d gotten in big trouble for the tall tales, but the story had already been taken up by the waves and couldn’t be squashed, especially with the fearful but dedicated belief of younger fledglings.

“Is it a monster?” Denel asked, already looking more fluff than form.

Marren… couldn’t really tell.

They were huge, even bigger than the Draellex spacefarer who had come to do a presentation for her class last season, but most of their features were also obscured by the long, deep grey cloak that they were swathed in.

“They’ve got hands,” she reported instead, because the stranger was touching various plants and rocks with nubby, strangely smooth fingers. “No claws, though.”

“Maybe a trader ship came early?” Robbyn offered thoughtfully. Their downy soft pink feathers were the least fluffed up between the three of them, their gaze focused on the alien with an intense curiosity.

“We woulda seen it, right?” Marren replied dubiously, before going quiet for a moment as the hooded head of the stranger turned and paused as though listening.

She didn’t continue until they turned back to their slow inspection of the wildlife, letting out a tiny peep-peep-peep of relief. “The only ship that came down is Uptel Patton’s, and he’s only got two playmates.”

She’d only met one of her Uptel’s friends in person, and only when she was a baby baby, way before her first molt, so she barely remembered it, but there were plenty of pictures in her Elder Uptel Farrun’s home. Patton’s parents were always happy to talk about their spacefarer son, and Marren always got a fun trinket from her Uptel when he visited.

Well. Almost always.

He’d seemed very distracted when she’d seen him this morning, enough that he’d barely noticed her amongst the many relatives that had swarmed to greet him after his longer than usual absence.

Something bad had happened to him, Marren had been told, which had made his parents’ home feel all sad-grief-loss whenever she visited, but he was all better now.

She wasn’t so sure. Everyone around him had felt like relief-joy-kinship at the sight of him, sure, but her Uptel had never flinched away from preening before.

“Maybe he got a new one?” Denel asked, still half-hidden behind Robbyn but not quite as frightened.

Marren made a considering chirp, and then began shuffling under the wiry branches as quietly as possible, seeking out a closer bush.

“Where are you going?” both of her playmates asked in very different tones.

“Gonna look closer,” she replied, and then froze as the answer carried farther than she meant it to.

The stranger turned sharper this time, and searched the clearing with tiny back-and-forth movements of their head.

“Patton?” they called after a moment, and Marren almost startled back in shock: the alien had spoken Uptel Patton’s actual name, not the Common version, and sounded uncannily close to an actual Ampen.

If it weren’t for how impossibly big the stranger was, she might have thought it was a simple prank, a couple of older kids stacked on top of each other under a form-disguising cloak.

Her gaze trailed down and finally focused on the familiar glow coming from the shadowed neckline of the cloak. She would know that glow anywhere!

“They’ve gotta special charm!” she crowed, and pushed past the branches to dart out into the open, intent on inspecting her Uptel’s newest friend.

Patton’s friend stumbled back hard with a sharp inhale, and Marren abruptly remembered that it wasn’t polite to startle people, especially strangers, and slowed to a stop. She angled her head up to try and peer into the shadows of the hood, squinting her eyes almost closed in as innocent and friendly a look as possible.

“I’m Marren,” she introduced herself, using the little bit of Common that her Uptel had taught her. “The stars greet you and so do I!”

That kind of greeting was more for actually being up in space with all the stars, but she figured it was the thought that counted.

Patton’s friend muttered something in an unfamiliar language, their tone soft, and then lowered themself to a seated position, much slower than they’d moved before. “My name is Virgil. It’s… nice to sea you?”

Marren let out a peal of chirping laughter, nearly knocking herself off balance with the force of her amusement.

That was definitely one of Uptel Patton’s friends, alright. He was the only bondrelative she had who put silly word jokes in his greetings like that.

“Can I sea you?” she shot back brightly, and when that didn’t seem to make it through, she pretended to move an invisible hood down from her own head.

Friend Virgil went all stiff for a moment, before speaking again. “I don’t think… uh, that’s not a good idea. I’m… I’m shy.”

Marren was distracted for a moment by puzzling through the words; it was an odd combination of Common and Ampen words, some of them a little smushed together until they almost seemed like a new word entirely.

Once the meaning behind the answer registered, though, she made a long, protesting whistle. “I’m not gonna be mean to you! Denel’s shy, too, you guys can get along!”

“Denel?” Friend Virgil echoed, again pronouncing the name eerily accurately, and Marren heard a little peep of alarm from behind her.

Antennae twitching with frustration, she turned and gave the bushes her best irritated stare, fluffing up indignantly. “They’re Patton’s friend! They’ve gotta be nice to me, I’m his favorite telit! Stop acting so new-hatched!”

“You’re his only little cousin,” Robbyn was speaking to her as they hopped into view, but their wide eyes were locked on Friend Virgil like they’d just found a shiny new stone. “Can they talk?”

“Kinda,” Marren chirped back, since it seemed like Friend Virgil knew more of the spacefarer tongue than their native one. “I know enough space words to translate! Probably.”

“You’re going to hurt your throat,” Robbyn cautioned in their best know-it-all voice. Marren was saved from having to answer by the thud of Denel tripping his own way out of the bush.

With his underlayer all fluffed out like that, it was no wonder that he accidentally rolled a few feather-lengths along the ground, squawking in high-pitched, babyish alarm as he tumbled.

Friend Virgil leaned forward so quickly that even Marren peeped in surprise, but all they did was set a humongous cupped hand next to Denel to keep him from toppling any further. Denel pulled all his limbs in with a panicked squeak as he bumped into the helping hand, and turned his head to peer up at Friend Virgil nervously.

“Safe and sound,” Friend Virgil crooned, in the sort of lullaby sing-song tone that was usually used to soothe hatchlings. “Okay, good, okay?”

It took Denel a stunned moment to respond, but when he chirped affirmative, the waver in his whistle had faded to almost nothing. He slowly uncurled, and even reached out for balance as he got back upright, looking absolutely awestruck.

He was way more aether-sensitive than most fledglings, Marren recalled, which meant that Friend Virgil must have been radiating some deeply trustworthy energy. As always, she had been totally right! Of course Patton’s friend was nice!

Marren wasted no time in spinning back around and darting up to Friend Virgil’s legs, giving them her best pleading expression.

“See? We can all be friends, you’re big-nice and nobody will be mean to you! Please please please?”

—

Virgil was not good with kids.

Specifically, he wasn’t good at saying no to kids.

Back home, they’d always picked up on it the moment they saw him, like sharks catching the scent of blood in the water, except the sharks were twelve year olds and the blood was Virgil’s inability to tell them not to draw on him in sharpie.

He’d finally found something that humans and aliens had in common, it seemed, because Marren– the apparent leader of the little group– had immediately figured out exactly how to use the Ampen version of puppy dog eyes against him. It was like nature had designed them as adorable feathery pom-pom creatures as a tactic designed to target him, specifically.

He hadn’t stood a chance.

As such, he found himself seated in the middle of the small clearing, his hood lowered and face exposed for anyone to see, being used as an actual, literal human jungle gym by a bunch of chirping alien fuzzballs.

The playtime racket must have been attracting more, because it felt like every time he looked up, three or four entirely new bundles of fluff had appeared, racing around his feet or climbing up the side of his cloak, chattering between themselves in strings of tweets and whistles.

The namecall they used for him wasn’t quite accurate, sounding more like ‘frrr-kul’ with a rolling trill followed by a chirp that only occasionally resembled the latter half of his name. They seemed to have a much harder time than Patton making the non-bird sort of syllables, which made sense, seeing as they were itty bitty babies.

“Frrrr-kul!” one of them called gleefully, summoning him over to the other side of the clearing for the newest round of whatever it was they were playing.

Virgil wasn’t ashamed to admit that something in his chest squeezed a bit as another fledgling turned dizzying little loop-de-loops in front of him, presumably leading him over to the new spot. For once, the heart palpitations he was experiencing around strange aliens were almost entirely cuteness-induced.

Almost, because there was still a solid chunk of his brain panicking viciously about how tiny and soft and fragile they all were, hence him moving at the pace of a seasick slug.

Marren had put forward a half-hearted complaint about how slow he was moving, to no avail. As it turned out, the only thing more compelling to him than a kid’s heartfelt request was the fear of accidentally hurting one of them.

It had taken him at least fifteen minutes just to stop flinching every time one of them fell or flung themself off of his knee or shoulder or— for one very stealthy candidate— his head, only to tumble lightly back to the ground unharmed, the impact entirely cushioned by their fluff.

He’d caught the first five or six on sheer instinct, which had only prompted even more to partake in the fun new ‘game’, until he gave up and accepted his fate as a living launch pad. Thankfully for his stress levels and long-term heart health, they had moved onto another game quickly enough.

He was slightly less thankful that every game so far had included him being scampered over, without exception, but he should have figured as much just from being friends with Patton, honestly.

His latest role seemed to be a very ill patient, as one of Marren’s friends walked around—and on— him carefully, calling out chirped instructions and sending the rest of the participants scrambling into the nearby brush. Within a few moments, they’d return with leaves, twigs, and other forest detritus, which would then be painstakingly applied to the top of his hand, or his chin, or wherever else the ‘doctor’ gestured to. Half the time, the makeshift bandages would flutter off the moment Virgil shifted even a little, prompting chitters of delight as the kids hurried to re-apply them.

Still better than any healthcare he’d gotten on Earth, honestly.

Seeing as his current job was to lay in place morosely like that guy from the Operation board game, he eventually closed his eyes and let himself relax a little, trying to hide an irrepressible closed-lip smile.

A few rounds later, he heard a chorus of what sounded like Patton’s favorite greeting chirp, but in a range of much higher pitches. He cracked his eyes open, expecting another gaggle of fledglings had showed up, and instead found that Logan was standing at the edge of the clearing, arms all dropped limply to his sides in shock.

Virgil went tense, only managing to repress his flinch because a good portion of his brain was still dedicated to monitoring where all the babies were around him, and currently at least ten were clinging onto his person. “Okay, listen. This was not my idea.”

Logan carefully tucked his hands behind his back in what Virgil first mistook for a polite gesture, only to emerge with what was unmistakably the portable camera he used whenever he was collecting video data for later.

“...Really?”

Whirr-click. Logan didn’t even bother looking apologetic as he began recording Virgil’s pint-sized tormentors. “If Patton didn’t get a memento of this, he would never forgive me, facetiously speaking.”

Rolling his eyes, Virgil slowly shifted up to his elbows, a startling amount of leaves fluttering down from his hair. A tentative hand feeling around in his hair revealed a fluffy stowaway, who peeped in displeasure as Virgil carefully disentangled them.

Talk about having a bird’s nest for hair. That was probably a sign that he needed a trim, but for now he could only laugh to himself, using two fingers to try and soothe the ruffled feathers of the fledgling that had apparently seen his head as prime real estate.

“You’re… very good with them,” Logan commented, shuffling closer with uncharacteristic tentativeness. “Is it normal to take on a parental role for children that aren’t under your care on Earth?”

Virgil snorted, and then leaned forward a little to help keep one of the more tenacious fledglings clinging to him from losing their grip. “It depends on the person, but honestly? A lot of humans are total suckers for anything cute making baby sounds, human or not. Sometimes to the point that the keener wildlife will take advantage of it and lead us to babies that are injured or out of reach because they know that odds are, a human will help.”

“Truly? Non-domesticated species, as well?” Logan replied, visibly distracted from his slow approach by the implications. “Cooperative dynamics between sapient species and local fauna are present on many planets, but for almost all studied Deathworlds, such a thing is unheard of. The risk is higher in harsher environments, where a much more competitive nature is required for survival.”

“Yeah, for real. I used to work as an assistant… uh. An assistant animal-healer, and people were always bringing in abandoned babies they’d found. Sometimes they were actually in need of help, but sometimes they definitely weren’t,” Virgil huffed a little at the memories, holding still as a fledgling took a running leap to jump from one of his knees to the other. “It was well-intentioned, though. Lots of people hate to see a baby left alone and jump to conclusions, since you’d never do that with a human infant.”

Logan’s hands twitched, and Virgil carefully shrugged one shoulder, giving him permission to record the information.

“Just make sure you don’t write stuff about babies or kids down where anyone could get to it,” he cautioned, chewing on the edge of his lip. “I trust you, but I don’t trust, y’know… the rest of space. Better safe than sorry, right?”

“Correct,” Logan confirmed, having heard that exact catchphrase from Virgil probably about twelve times a week. “Am I alright to approach?”

“What?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, of course, just be careful. I mean, you’re definitely safer for them to be around than me.”

There was a relieved angle to Logan’s ears as he stepped forward, nimbly avoiding a few of the fledglings chasing each other back and forth like feathered tumbleweeds. “I disagree. They seem quite safe in your hands,” he said. “I have no doubt that Patton would be ecstatic to know that you’ve managed to make some friends amongst his kin despite our need for secrecy.”

Right. His cover had been blown five minutes in by the Ampen equivalent of a bunch of grade-schoolers. Crap.

“Let your mind remain at ease,” Logan added, either correctly reading the panic on his face or just guessing from the not-inconsiderable experience he had with Virgil. “With Ampens this young, I’m certain that your positive impression as a playmate will be the bulk of what they mention to their families. I’ve already heard a few of them refer to you as ‘Patton’s shy friend,’ so I imagine most will come up with the rest of the answer on their own assumptions.”

"'Patton's shy friend'?" Virgil felt his ears redden as his face heated up, and there was a chorus of delighted whistle-squeals from the nearest fledglings.

“You change colors just like Uptel Patton!” Marren shouted excitedly, and, well.

There were at least four different species of alien he knew of that shifted colors in all sorts of ways, from a gradual chameleon shift to the rapid flush of an octopus. This was one trait that wasn’t likely to make anyone think ‘Human’.

“Do another color!” A small harmony of encouraging peeps and eager gazes.

“Uh…,” Virgil cast a helpless look of his own Logan’s way. “I mean, I can probably do purple if I hold my breath for long enough?”

“Alright,” Logan cut in urgently,“I think it’s time that Virgil get back to the ship, actually, you’ll have to play with him again the next time we come to visit. Yes, yes, everyone off now…”

–

Miraculously, they’d managed to get through the entire impromptu visit without either of Patton’s flockmates seeing any errant belongings, broken cabinets, or any other indications of the highly illegal and infamous Deathworlder they definitely had onboard.

Roman let out an exhausted snort, trying not to shift impatiently as he stood by the boarding platform and waited for Logan to return with Virgil. If Patton was there, he would have given him a disappointed look for being so blatantly untrusting, but he wasn’t, and it had been a long day, so Roman could be on edge if he wanted to, okay?!

Thankfully, Logan chose that moment to step out from the shade of the forested area, exchanging an assessing look with Roman before deeming the path clear and beckoning Virgil to follow him on board.

The Human padded after Logan, footsteps eerily quiet as always, and… huh. He looked a lot less stressed than he’d seemed when they’d all but shoved him off the ship a few hours ago. Roman tried not to feel immensely suspicious about it, but he glanced down to check his hands for blood anyhow.

He was mostly sure that the Human didn’t actually have any murderous designs, especially not on anyone from Patton’s hometown, but they’d set him loose in a random forest with little to no guidance. Roman couldn’t rule out the idea that Virgil had entertained himself by hunting down some of the local fauna or something.

There was nothing, though, and so he forced his eyes away and checked in briefly with Logan instead. See? He could be cordial when he wanted to! He was a beacon of toleration, okay?

The claim fell a little flat even in his own mind, but he was promptly distracted by the tiniest hint of a whistle. He straightened up, alarm shooting through him as he swiveled his head this way and that, searching for any surprise witnesses.

His gaze fell on the Human as Virgil passed him to board the ship, and Roman stiffened at the sight of three fluffy bundles perched in the swoop of the Human’s hood. “Stop right there!”

Virgil went still, shoulders hunching upward like a bristle and eyes bizarrely wide, and Roman let his tail scrape from side to side for a moment as he glowered, only growing more certain of his guilt.

“I knew it, those are fledglings! Let them go this instant,” he started, planning to end with a suitable threat to ensure the safety of the smallest and most vulnerable of Patton’s kin, only for the Human to somehow go even more stiff and frozen.

“Oh my god, where?” He hunched over slightly, eyes flickering down to scan over his front and arms. “Are they okay?”

Roman pulled up short, admittedly disoriented at the show of clear and abrupt concern. One of the fledglings cheeped in dismay, and Virgil’s head tilted, following the sound.

“Guys, that’s not safe,” he groaned, and then repeated it in Ampen tongue. “Not safe. Not good, not safe, okay?”

His hand twitched up like he was going to reach for them, but then he hesitated for a moment, before slowly turning around so that his hood faced Roman. “Can you help them out? I know they’ve got all the feathers and stuff to keep them safe, but I still don’t want… I don’t want to jostle the hood and knock them out or something.”

“I… yes,” Roman said, feeling like he’d just been hit by a paralyzer shot. He reached out and scooped the fledglings out of their makeshift nest, watching as Virgil’s shoulders grew more and more taut. The Human didn’t trust him, but he held still anyways. “You’ve got, ah. Leaves and twigs. In your head pocket.”

“I bet I do,” he muttered, before taking a few slightly too-fast steps away once he’d checked that his fuzzy passengers had been evacuated. With soft, cautious movements, he patted down the rest of himself, including his other pockets and even the folds of his overcloak. “I think I’m good.”

“That was very dangerous,” Roman scolded, looking down at the trio with disapproval.

Virgil shuffled slightly, looking at him more directly than he usually did. After a moment, he spoke. “They’re fine, right? It’s not their fault, they just think it’s a game.They’re… they’re only babies.”

This was what worry looked like on a Human, Roman realized with a jolt, and managed to choke down his initial offense at the very idea that he would hurt them. He’d assumed the same at first glance, hadn’t he? Virgil had never seen him with kits before, and didn't know very much about him. Roman hadn’t exactly been sharing information or encouraging any bonding, and it wasn’t like the Mindscape had provided very many opportunities for interacting with younglings thus far.

Stars, he hoped there hadn’t been any kids on the smuggler ship. The very idea made him sick.

“Of course they’re fine,” he replied a bit shortly, cradling them a little closer. “Kits will be kits. They didn’t mean any harm, like you said.”

“Oh. Okay, that’s good,” Virgil said, some of that odd tension falling away. He looked back down at the kids. “Uh. Bye, little guys. Stay safe.”

He mimicked a farewell trill with uncanny accuracy, and the fledglings all echoed it with varying levels of mournfulness. Virgil waved as he edged his way up the ship’s ramp backwards, like he thought the kids would ambush him the moment he took his eyes off of them.

Seeing as these three had somehow snuck past a Human’s senses, Roman almost couldn’t blame him.

“When I next see Patton, I’m going to tell him to have a serious talk with you all about being too adventurous, you hear me? Crewmates are not for climbing,” Roman lectured as he carried them back to the main path. He paused to think about how hypocritical that lesson would be coming from Patton, who took any excuse to perch on Virgil. “Oh, for stars’ sake.”

Well, whatever. This was just a one-off. What were the odds they would ever be bringing the Human back here, anyhow?

#wibar #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #sanders sides fic #space au #humans are deathworlders #wibar intermission #WIBAR INT 5 #my writing #writing #baby time

179 notes · View notes

romeulusroy · 1 year

Text

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 1

A/N: This I'd solely based on this fic, which I am in love with :) There is no gif of all four of them that isn't sad!!! 😭

Warning: addiction/addiction mention, abuse/neglect

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 2

You were an accident. Your siblings made jokes about it your entire life, but there was some truth to it. Logan didn't want anymore kids, he didn't want the kids he had, but you were born regardless of what he thought or wanted

Your mother had a short fling with Logan between Lady Caroline and Marcia. They were married, sure, but that didn't really mean anything, and they divorced shortly after you were born

Your siblings were already out the door by the time you came along, but they still adored you, especially as a baby/toddler

The few pictures you have of your childhood, you're surrounded by your brothers and sister, all of them wanting to hold you and play with you

They really do love you, in their own ways

Connor especially loved you. It's his favorite thing in the world to be a big brother fatherly figure to you and Ken and Shiv and Roman. He was so lonely when it was just him. Now he has you guys 💕

You grew up watching your siblings fight and argue and bicker as a means of showing their love, though Connor tried his best to show you what real love was (aka not just swearing at one another)

He didn't want you growing up the same way he had, ignored and terribly unloved. He never wants you to feel the same way he did, does

"Bitch."

"Whore."

"Shiv, Rome, not in front of y/n."

Roman took it upon himself to steer you clear of certain friends of Logan's, friends like Mo, who weren't to be trusted around children. Whenever you asked why, he'd give you some non-answer answer and tell you to get back to your blocks

"Babies play with blocks."

"Then your crayons, I don't know- whatever."

Kendall always had something sweet for you when he has a meeting with Logan. You weren't allowed sweets, not around your father, but Ken could always sneak you something. Even as you got older, and you reminded him you weren't a little kid anymore, he never forgot your favorites

"You know I'm not five anymore, right?"

"I know, I know, just take it."

Whatever kindness they showed you, it could never equate to the love of your parents, especially your father, neither of which were affectionate people

You were an angry kid. Your father wasn't exactly the most loving. In fact, you sensed that he hated you for as long as you could remember. That made you mad and disappointed in yourself, like you'd done something wrong. Like you were born wrong. So you'd lash out. You broke things, you screamed and cried, you hurt yourself in the process, you did all you could to get his attention, and still nothing worked. Nothing.

Rather, it was Shiv who held a frozen bag of peas on your bruises, who wrapped bandaids around your broken skin, and reminded you you were only hurting yourself, the two of you watching the housekeeper sweep up glass or patch up walls, whatever mess you made. She didn't like seeing you like this, knowing it only enraged your father instead of getting the response you were looking for

"Y/n, why do you keep doing this?"

"I don't know."

"There's gotta be a reason."

There were hundreds of reasons, but you didn't have the words for it yet, so you'd shrug, feeling lighter having gotten it all out

You were grounded a lot, for days at a time, your father banishing you to your room when he was sick of dealing with you. It only made you more upset. Nannies quit constantly, so a lot of the time, it was up to him to deal with your antics. Your mother, when she was home, stayed far from either of you, feigning a headache

You didn't have the words to explain all this, so you made a mess of your room. Tore things apart, broke everything in sight. If it wasn't your body that was hurting, it was the things around you. Eventually, he got rid of everything but the dresser and your bed. Everything else was bare. You'd kick and thrash and yell, but you were too afraid to leave

He didn't have to lock the door, though. All he had to do was stand in front of your door for a few minutes, not saying a word, and that was scary enough to get you to stop, at least for the time being

None of your siblings knew about this. When you were grounded, Logan never let them near you. It wouldn't be until years later that Ken or Con even suspected anything like that when you made a passing comment

He saw your out-of-control emotions as weakness. He tried to get your mother to help, blaming her family genes, but she was out of the house long before you got yourself under control. She moved on with her life, leaving you with him to go abroad, live the life of luxury with her flavor of the month. She had no interest in being your mother, deciding you'd be better off with him

One day he called you into his study. You knew you'd done bad. You'd thrown another tantrum in front of his investors, in front of friends, and that was the last straw. Tabloids were already talking about the cuts and bruises you gave to yourself, accusing Logan of abusing you. He was completely embarrassed by your behavior, your newest Nanny dragging you out before any real damage was done. Still, you knew that crossed a line. You were sick with worry. You'd only ever been in his study a handful of times, mostly sneaking in when he wasn't home.

Logan gave you the only advice you'd ever receive from him: Quiet down. It was vague and angry and not very helpful, like most of his parenting ways

Soon after that, you had your first drink. You weren't sure what it was, or why you wanted to try it, only that Roman had left it unattended and wouldn't notice, that it made your family a little bit better so why couldn't it help you?

It was the first time in a long time everything had gone quiet. This fury that sat in the middle of your chest has shrunk. You felt like you could breathe and think without wanting to explode. Without wanting to burn the world down. It didn't taste good, at all, but it helped

You figured this is what he meant. This is what he wanted. It wasn't a lot, not enough to get you drunk, but enough to quiet every mean thought in your head

After that, you found your new way to cope. The tantrums stopped. You were rewarded with your things back. Your nanny remained skeptical, but everyone else saw this is a good thing, a phase you'd grown out of. Shiv especially found relief in this, the sight of those bruises and gashes and cuts enough to make her scared what you were going to do next

Your mother believed it was the strict parenting style of Logan that straightened you out, even happier with her decision to leave you behind

From then on out, you were sneaking anything you could. From your father, your siblings, off the silver platters at parties and dinners and meetings. No one noticed when an extra glass went missing. They barely noticed your existence

Your tolerance grew the older you got, and the anger came back. This indescribable fury caused fights between you and Logan, rarely between you and your siblings. Those moments were the worst, when you couldn't bite your tongue. The alcohol could only do so much, so you turned to other things to take that last edge off

Kendall had coke, you could get weed at school, there were a surplus of pills in the bathroom cabinet. Whatever it took to quiet down, whatever it took to take that edge off, to stop acting this way, you figured it was the right thing to do

Your teens were a blur, a mass, of bad ideas and forced photo opportunities. Going to clubs until the sun came out, calling cars to pick you up, changing just in time for a family dinner to discuss shareholders or to schmooze with old friends of Logans. Always polite, always present, even if you were a million miles away

You weren't sleeping a lot, but you didn't need to. The uppers kept you awake, the downers kept your skin from crawling, the booze leveled everything out

#headcanon #succession headcanon #connor roy #connor roy x reader #connor roy headcanon #kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy headcanon #shiv roy #shiv roy x reader #shiv roy headcanon #roman roy #roman roy x reader #roman roy headcanon #roy siblings #roy sibling reader #logan roy #logan roy headcanon #logan roy x reader

462 notes · View notes

cakebatteronabrickwall · 7 months

Text

When Kendall goes "tell the other side" at the funeral, that'so genuinely interesting, because babe? There is no other side. Arguably, Ewan covered it all. Yes, he talked about Logan Roy, the man that made the world just a little worse, a little less kind for his presence in it. But. He also talked about Logan the child that left and lost a sister, that experienced war and abuse, Logan who was his brother that he loved.

That's why Kendall can only really rehash the negative aspects Ewan mentioned and try to turn them into positives. Money and power, doesn't everyone in here like those things? Oh boy, I sure hope I can be like my father and have money and power, two things that totally don't corrupt people.

That's why Shiv can only really bring up the fatherhood aspect in a eulogy that so cleary speaks to her resentment and complicated love of Logan. Dear, dear world of a father. The father who, for many women, is the first man in their lives that doesn't measure up. That they can't measure up for.

That's why Roman can't speak at all, because Ewan's speech forces him to confront the fact that, yes, it's all true. The person he wanted to imitate and hold onto was Logan, the father he loved and wanted to be loved by; but also (more so) Logan the cruel man, the father that hurt him. Over and over. He can't say that out loud, so he expresses it in a different way.

If grief is an admission of love, it may as well be the realization of its absence. Can we get him out? Can we bring him back for one last round? Just to see if maybe this time he can love us right? Just to make sure? But no. No, you can't, and you'd be disappointed by the result in any case.

#sad girl post innit #insert oh bojack no there is no other side joke here #what about connor? yeah good point i don't really know feel free to chime in #i always get to the end of these kinds of posts with so much more to say but nowhere to fit it #anyways #succession #succession season 4 #kendall roy #shiv roy #roman roy #ewan roy

218 notes · View notes

secondhand-snow · 2 months

Text

a body of impulses

chapter 4: staining the future

lukas matsson x f!roy reader (succession)

★chapter 3★

wc: 8.6k+

warnings: super dysfunctional family, roman roy as his own warning, mention of phone sex, manipulation, praise, no use of y/n

summary: The fall back to the real world after your time spent with Lukas hits you hard. But your family hits you harder, and they hit to kill.

author's note: snow writes a fic without graphic smut?!? insanity. please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!

Logan’s birthday is… Logan’s birthday. The day is always celebratory, and always ends in trouble. Chaos tends to be inevitable when your family is together, like two comets on a collision course, helpless to stop the impending crash. Even intimate get-togethers are no exception. You were fully prepared for this, readying your mediating skills and considering any possible issues that could come up at the event. Until, your siblings inform you that they will not be attending. On one hand, it’s a shock. Missing something as important as your father’s birthday because of a fight seems unreasonable, especially when you were so sure you would see them in person again. On the other hand, the lack of their presences could avoid the conflict you were expecting. Either way, your focus shifted from getting ready to stop blow out fights to preparing to answer nosy questions on the whereabouts of your family.

It was nice to talk to your siblings after weeks of no contact. The discussions you had were usually meager, straight and to the point. But all the same, it gave you some sense of normalcy in your vastly changing life. That and the less you spoke to them, the less you had to lie to them about what you were up to. Between Lukas and work, it felt like you could barely get out a sentence without potentially compromising an immense secret. You’d gotten uncomfortably close to disclosing your relationship a couple times, both with Roman, both due to your increasingly frequent trips to Sweden. Luckily, you’d been trained enough in keeping the peace to brush over the details of your life and get him to talk about himself, the suspicion leaving his mind almost instantly.

In addition to rekindling your relationship with your siblings, a strange sort of friendship was beginning to form between yourself and Tom. You were the only two in the immediate family that hadn’t jumped ship yet, well, besides Greg. Since he wasn’t really speaking to Shiv, and Roman and Kendall would rather die than see his face, you were the only one Tom could go to for a genuine conversation. Unless he wanted to talk to Gerri, Karl or Frank, but Tom preferred speaking to someone who wasn’t at least 20 years older than himself. Because of this, the two of you began bonding in a way you hadn’t had the chance to before. When Roman wasn’t making crass jokes over your shoulder, influencing your opinion with his humor, Tom wasn’t actually that bad.

He was more down to Earth than your siblings. He had grown up rich, but not your kind of rich, and it gave him a sort of level headedness that you didn’t see often. His jokes were pretty funny, and his midwest accent gave his speech a natural formality that was strangely captivating. You liked talking to Tom, you even began to see him as a friend during the months after the GoJo deal began. Not only was he sociable, he was actually good at what he did. You’d always thought that he got his position through his relationship with Shiv, though when you began working with him on the GoJo deal you saw that his work ethic had a genuine quality to it. He could be a little brutal at times and looked out for himself before others, but who wasn’t in this business. By the time Logan’s party came up you found yourself honestly enjoying his company.

When you arrive at Logan’s penthouse, the party has already begun. There’s a good crowd of people mingling, mostly executives from Waystar’s corporate world and old business associates of your Dad’s. You’re happy to see Colin, who you greet with a friendly smile, and annoyed to see Kerry, who you give a tight lipped grin. Your dad is at least somewhat happy to see you, giving you the rare hug in welcome.

Buying gifts for a man that has everything is incredibly difficult, and after the watch situation from last year, you were even more terrified of Logan’s reaction to your present. You had settled on purchasing him a Navy medal of honor from WWI to add to his collection and wrapped it weeks in advance, trying to push the worry from your mind for as long as possible. As he opens the present now, his reception is better than you hoped for. Your dad offers you a small thanks and notes that he will add it to one of his display cases later. Internally you doubt that he will, but at least he was kind to you publicly. With another quick hug and a promise to see him again in a bit, you enter the throng of people once more and begin looking for a drink.

It’s really only natural that you gravitate to Tom, joining his side with a glass of champagne as soon as you spot him in the mass of suits. He cracks a few jokes, makes a few comments on work, but mostly you just stand together and look engaged in conversation, successfully deterring any onlookers from bothering you to ask prying questions. You make frequent trips to the bathroom. Not to actually use the toilet, but to answer your messages from Lukas. It was too much of a chance to open his texts around others at the party, since so many of them knew him well. He knows your at Logan’s birthday, he even considered attending himself before getting too busy with work. His goofy texts brighten up the otherwise dull day, giving you something to look forward to and keeping you awake amongst the bland chatting you’re obligated to engage in.

It’s after one of these trips to the bathroom that the first sign of discord begins to creep into the party. It starts with Cousin Greg, who’s chattering incessantly in Tom’s ear as you approach the pair.

“-I’m kidding, I really do like her.” You seamlessly attach yourself to the conversation as you join them, keeping pace as you begin to walk from room to room.

“Like who? The blonde teeny bopper you brought?”

“Yeah!”

“What, did you meet her on Raya or something?” You get a small laugh from Tom at that, the three of you pausing your stroll for a moment.

“She’s used all the display towels in the bathroom and now they’re sopping wet, she’s gabbling about herself and posting on social media.” Greg scoffs a bit at Tom’s critique, looking around to be sure the blonde was nowhere nearby. “She’s asking people personal questions- and she’s wolfing all the canapes like a famished warthog!”

“People are overreacting, okay? She brought a normal kind of handbag!”

“Greg, the massive purse is one thing. Posting pictures of the inside of my father’s house on Instagram is actually incredibly invasive. She’s basically a security risk at this point.”

“You are a laughing stock of polite society.” As Tom chimes in, the unmistakable face of Greg’s date begins to approach you, a look of concern on her face. Tom whispers as he finishes his comment. “You’ll never go to the opera again.”

“Maybe- we should go?” The woman’s voice has a twinge of vocal fry, her hand holding her phone protectively close to her body.

“Oh are you okay? What, uh, what happened?” Greg stoops from his normal towering stance to direct his quiet tone towards his date.

“Nothing! I just asked Logan for a selfie.”

“You asked my dad for a selfie?” You can’t help the small laugh of disbelief that leaves your mouth at her confession.

“Yeah- oh! You’re- uh…” The woman is at least socially conscious enough to realize her mistake in not addressing you, an awkward smile coming to her face as she continues. “I said ‘Congrats on the big deal.’ I was like, ‘Ker-ching, am I right?’ I was being funny!”

“...That is hilarious.”

It’s a little while later when things start to get worse. Logan had disappeared with Colin a couple of hours ago, and was now ignoring calls as his executives tried to contact him. Additionally, Kerry had come to you and asked you to talk to your siblings, to get them to text or call Dad for his birthday. You gave her the same strained response you’d had to repeat so many times in the past few months, “My siblings are capable of making their own decisions.” Despite this, you did text them to let them know of Kerry’s request. They left the message on read. It’s you who’s finally able to get through to Logan, letting him know that there was some trouble with the Pierce deal. He arrived back at the penthouse only a bit after you contacted him, immediately stopping the party and kicking out the crowd.

And so, on a day that was supposed to be calm, work-free, and relaxing, you ended up gathered in Logan’s home office with the tension rising rapidly. It’s concerning how quickly the group is able to find out that it’s your siblings who are the rival bidders. It’s more concerning how upset Logan is when he finds out. He swears. More than usual. He yells at both you and Tom, telling the pair of you to call Shiv and tell her to get her own idea. To your credit, you do call her, but you go straight to voicemail.

You’re helpless in the situation, in a sort of trance of dissociation as chaos unfolds around you. You barely even perk up during Logan’s “roasting” rampage, refusing to cause a spectacle for your dad’s amusement. Unfortunately, Greg doesn’t have the same foresight as you. What snaps you out of the haze is when Tom finally gets through to your sister. The two of you huddle around his iPhone in the corner of the room, trying to maintain some sense of privacy as speakerphone causes your conversation to echo around the office.

“Hey, Shiv” Tom’s is clearly stressed, an unnatural lilt in his voice as he speaks.

“Hi?”

“Hey. Tom!” So Kendall’s with her.

“Fuck you, man mountain!” And the voice of Roman solidifies your siblings' involvement in buying Pierce. An inaudible sigh leaves your mouth as the worst is confirmed.

“Hey, look, so… we were just wondering if we’re not being- uh, played a little here. Since this is all indicative.”

“Okay, well, what did he go up to?” Shiv’s tone is simultaneously annoyed and eager.

“Well, we can’t tell you that.”

“He didn't go to nine, did he?”

“Well, we were just wondering, you know, all things being equal, the asset does have a price. And it would be- it would be crazy to add an emotional… uh, premium here.” Tom is beginning to scramble, his demeanor becoming frantic as he searches for some kind of tactic to convince your siblings. “So, should we be looking for a back door on this?”

“What's Dad's ceiling?” Shiv asks the question like she already knows the answer. You wonder if she really does.

“Well, what's your ceiling?”

“Why don't you go first, Tommy? Build that trust, brah!” Kendall’s tone is surprisingly happy, like he’s high either on coke or on the thrill of bidding.

“Well, his ceiling is-- is... Uh, well, I... Your dad is just–”

“It’s higher than yours, I can guarantee that.” You cut in for the first time, saving Tom from his own bumbling.

“Oh hi baby sister! Decided to join the rebellion yet?” Roman stretches out the nickname, whining in a way he knows you hate, trying to rile you up to their level.

“Do you even have the financing for this? Or are you pooling together all your lunch money just to piss off Dad?” Maybe it’s the fact that you’re over the phone, maybe it’s how stressed out this situation has you, but you find yourself bolder than normal. For once, you’re going head to head with your sibling’s wit without backing down.

“We’re not doing this just to piss off Dad.” Shiv deadpans, interjecting before Roman can get another word in.

“Right because you have such a genuine interest in a left leaning, family based news conglomerate that’s a direct competitor to ATN.” Your normally soft and regulated tone has a sharp edge to it, cutting through your family’s bullshit like butter. “What happened to the media company you were starting, you seemed so excited about that? The hundred, or something?”

“It’s still news and media, it's just- just starting from nothing versus, like, starting from an already established network.” Kendall speaks next, you can hear his chair vaguely creaking as he sits forward to direct his voice into the phone.

“Well it’s not worth it, what you’d gain from buying Pierce is nothing compared to the damage you’d do from fucking this deal. You know that.” You take a breath before finishing your piece, voice softer as you attempt to appeal to your family’s empathy. “Right now, you can still come back from this. Things… aren’t too broken, yet. We can fix them. If you go through with this, I don’t know if that will still be true.”

There’s a long pause before Shiv speaks again. “Our ceiling is 12.”

“Fuck off!” Tom can’t contain his shock at the statement. You tilt your head back, shaking it in disbelief with your eyes on the ceiling. “Yeah, well, our’s too. Okay?”

“Okay!”

There’s a familiar beep as the call ends. You don’t look at anyone’s faces as you reclaim your seat on the couch. You barely speak for the rest of the night. You don’t flinch when your siblings win Pierce, don’t look up when your dad screams at them through the phone, don’t say goodbye to anyone as you leave. Your resolve only crumbles in private.

That night, you call Lukas. He answers on the first ring, smiling into the camera as you greet him on Facetime. You can’t say much about the business that went down today, but he knows you well enough to fill in the blanks. Lukas has listened to you vent about your family so much, and everytime he consoles you like nobody else. He remembers past issues, connects them, brings them up to understand the context better. He frowns when you cry, he tries to make you laugh when you’re mad. He’s single handedly crushing your apprehensions on the relationship one night at a time.

You feel refreshed in the morning, maybe you cried all the angst out of your bloodstream. There’s already a text from your boyfriend making sure you're okay, asking you to text him updates about your day. It’s one of the rare occasions that you won’t be in the office. Instead you’ll be at Connor’s wedding rehearsal, doing just as much work, only with your family instead of the company. Inside, you’re dreading the event. It’s awful, just 24 hours ago you were excited to see your siblings in person. You’d been prepared to hug and smile and laugh. Now, you weren’t sure if they’d even come. And worse, you had no clue how they’d react to your presence if they did attend.

Nevertheless, you persist. You treat the rehearsal like a work event you really don’t want to go to, practicing fake smiles in the mirror as you do your makeup, donning your best cocktail dress, and pushing through the anxiety rushing in your veins. The actual rehearsal is mostly uneventful, your siblings missing from attendance. Of course, it’s incredibly awkward. Willa clearly did not want to be there, tears welling in her eyes every five seconds. Connor absolutely knew this, trying to make up for it with overt public displays of affection. At one point you swear she’s gonna call it off. Instead, she runs off to the bathroom with her bridesmaids for half an hour before returning like nothing was wrong. By the time it’s over and Willa is rushing out the door, you’ve settled into a round table at the restaurant with Connor. You’re expecting to be consoling him for the rest of the night.

It’s just your luck that your family arrives less than five minutes later.

“Finally!” Connor’s sudden interruption in your small talk makes your head whip around, your eyes landing on the trio approaching you. You set down your champagne glass a little too hard, and plaster a polite smile on your face as they near.

“Found him!” Roman is the first to approach his demeanor casual as always, eyes skipping over you to focus on Connor sitting to your right.

“Hey, hey.”

“Hey.”

“Here you are, we missed you.” You keep your voice gentle as you address them, letting Kendall give you a small pat on your shoulder in welcome.

“Hello sir, hugsie?” Rome stoops to plant a semi-authentic hug on Connor, gazing over his shoulder to give you a small look of endearment. A silent show of forgiveness you’ve gotten used to.“We’re so sorry man.”

“Yeah, dad screwed us.” Shiv reaches over you to hug your brother. She gives you a tight lipped smile to acknowledge your presence. “Hey, bro.”

“Oh look at you, the rebel alliance. How is it out in those hills? Supply lines okay? Got enough to eat?” Connor alters his voice a bit, putting on a front of normalcy for his family, even if he knows you can see right through it. Your siblings are still leaning on the table, standing noncommittally as you stay seated with your eldest brother. “This is how it is, huh? Us and Dad on one side, you guys on the other?”

Roman doesn’t answer, disregards his comment in favor of asking a competing question. “You… okay man? We saw Willa on the way in.”

“Yeah, I think it’s all fine.” Connor’s resolve slips as he responds, voice lowering to a level thick with anxiety and gloominess.

“Well…” You give a sideways glance at him before moving your gaze to the rest of your family. “When Willa stood up to do her speech, she said ‘I can’t do this.’ And then she ran to the bathroom and stayed there for forty minutes with her friends.”

There’s a universal cringe that spreads across the table at that information.

“Oh no, no, no. That’s not-” Roman takes a seat, slouches back in his chair as he tries to assure Connor with some rambling. “That’s totally fine, don’t worry about that. Just… toss her another ten grand. -Or a snowmobile and some teeth whitening vouchers.”

“Any luck, Sylvia?” Connor directs his message to a blonde, tanned woman holding a glass of red wine in one hand and her phone in the other. She shakes her head. “That’s Willa’s mom.” He adds under his breath before getting up to go speak with her in the corner.

“It's… fine Con.” Roman’s volume dwindles as your brother walks out of earshot. You scoot back in your chair a bit, craning your neck to look over at Connor while your siblings continue speaking.

“This is so fucking weird.”

“Okay so- do we regroup at my place?” Shiv lowers her voice as she speaks, almost like she’s telling a secret.

“Shiv. He’s, Come on- he’s lookin’ a little rough. Don’t you think?” Rome angles a thumb to your oldest brother. His voice is thick with sympathy, a rare display of emotion from him.

“Well, sure.” Shiv’s still standing, tapping her foot impatiently as her words speed up. “I’m sorry that Dad fucked us, and I’m sorry that we’re late, but we do need to decide fast… so…”

“Wait, decide on what?” Your head turns back to the group at the table, eyes settling on your sister in front of you. “And- you’re leaving? Seriously? You just got here, you can’t spend an hour with your brother? He’s clearly going through a lot!”

“Yeah, we should stay.” Kendall chimes in, giving you a small nod of agreement. “And- I mean, I think we know, right?”

“Do we, though? They made some pretty compelling arguments”

“Sandi’s a greedy little bitch. She’s got her hand up the ass of the carcass of her dad, and Stewy’s just along for the ride. It’s a- fuck it! It’s a packet of horseshit!” Roman’s speech gives you more insight into what it is they’re actually debating. There’s a thousand different reasons your siblings could be talking to Sandi and Stewy, but with your family it’s never just innocent conversation. And with Shiv’s comment about deciding fast… whatever they’re up to, it has to be affecting something in the near future.

“Okay. What if I want to talk it through?” Your sister stresses the word I, like she is the ultimate driving force in this decision. Which, to be fair, she seems to be.

“Talk what through? What’s going on- what are you three up to now?” Your head shakes slightly as you ask the question, already preparing for the worst. There’s a slight pause as your siblings look at each other, which you use to take another sip of champagne.

“Okay, still incommunicado.” Connor’s presence breaks the rising tension, and stops one of your siblings from having to answer you. “I just really hope she’s okay. So, what do you say? A little bit of karaoke?”

“Would it be possible to do anything other than that in the entire universe?”

“No, let’s do it! Come on, just this one time.” You give Connor a little shoulder nudge as he sits back next to you, encouraging his idea with a smile.

“Yeah, she’s partying, I can party.” There’s an air of both hopefulness and desperation around your brother.

“I mean, we can go drink, right? Little bachelor party for POTUS- SCROTUS?” It’s honestly a bit of a shock to you that Roman is so quick to comply. Then again, maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to Shiv about whatever scheme she's involving them in this time.

“Well I mean… we three kind of-” Shiv tries to step in, giving her best impression of someone regretful to decline such a kind invitation.

“Oh sure, everybody’s busy.”

“Come on. Let’s give him a drink, sis.” With Kendall’s agreement, your sister is outvoted. Connor claps in excitement. “Let’s give him a drink.”

“Yeah! But- but not your usual… stupid places. Uh… somewhere fun- and real! Away from the fancy dance.” Connor stands to tower above the table, talking with his hands as he outlines his plan for the night. “A real bar with chicks. And… guys who work with their hands and grease and sweat from their hands, and have blood in their hair.”

“I don’t like these guys. They sound like a medical experiment gone wrong.” Roman’s arms are crossed, his eyes narrowed in fake suspicion as Con takes a long drink of his red wine.

“Yeah… I don’t think we have that kind of place just engraved in our memories. Might have to Google this one.” You stand to join your brother, grabbing your clutch as your other siblings rise with you. Shiv is a bit reluctant, not moving until you all begin leaving the restaurant, then hurrying to catch up with you. So you quickly find yourself on the cold streets of NYC, walking (because Connor insisted) to the nearest dive bar you can find in a three block radius.

The bar is like something out of a movie. Like something from another planet. It’s all wood paneling and dark lighting and sticky counters. There’s old TVs mounted to the walls playing baseball and a glowing red exit sign over the door as you step in. The soundtrack is muted classic rock with the clinking of beer glasses over a constant chatter of patrons.

“Ah! America… I missed you.” Connor is immediately out of his depth, blue suit clashing horribly with the plaid flannels of the other customers.

“This is charming.” You shoot Roman a smile at his attempt of optimism, he brushes you off with an eye roll as you follow your oldest brother to the bar.

“Okay, what’s everybody having?” Ken’s straight to business, you wouldn’t expect anything less out of him. “What do you want?”

“Uh- do you think they know how to make a vodka tonic?”

“They can make a vodka tonic, Rome. You’ll just have to settle for Smirnoff” You give him an eyeroll of your own. It’s moments like these you feel so much more normal than your siblings, despite the fact that you’ve had such similar upbringings.

“House red? Do I dare?” Shiv’s comment gets a genuine laugh out of you, and a string of both ‘yes’s’ and ‘no’s’ from you and Roman. She chuckles before deciding, “That- just a club soda with a sealed lid. Nothing from that… tainted nozzle.”

“Con, what do you want?”

“I’ll just have whatever a regular Joe would have. Uh, Belgian Weissbier? Not Hoegaarden, ideally.” Connor’s distracted by his phone, looking down at it while speaking instead of answering Kendall’s question.

“How do you feel about Miller Light?” You get a small scoff from Shiv at that, but Con’s already too engrossed in his iPhone to pay you any mind. You drift over to Ken as he starts ordering the drinks. The background noise is loud enough that you can’t quite hear as Shiv pulls out her phone and begins speaking to Roman. It’s only a second before he moves away from her, but you catch the vague mentionings of Waystar and Sandi before the conversation is interrupted.

“Hey, can I get a, um- vodka tonic, I’ll have a bitters and soda…” Kendall orders for the group, listing out Shiv and Connor’s orders before turning to you for your drink.

“A Cosmo?” You pitch in, receiving a nod from the bartender in confirmation. You turn back to the trio of your other siblings, catching Con in the middle of a sentence.

“-Anyway I am reassured. She’s definitely not on her way to Cuba. Well, her phone isn’t.” You move closer to peak over his shoulder, seeing a little dot on a map lighting up his phone screen. “Yeah, she stopped movin’. Guess she found a spot she likes.”

“Sure…on another man’s dick.” You, Connor and Kendall look at Rome with the same exasperated expression as he speaks. “On a much bigger, nicer, harder, younger dick is all I’m saying.”

“Rome, that’s not-” Your tone is breathy with annoyance before your brother cuts you off.

“Can we not? Because you know, I’m feeling… I’m having certain anxieties, huh?” Roman mutters a string of disingenuous apologies as Connor talks over him. “I mean, I wanna have a good time!”

“Okay, all right. Let’s have fun. We can monitor her dot together.” Kendall’s nonchalance makes you cover your mouth to mute a giggle that you know would’ve ticked Con off. “Let’s- let’s get it up on the big screen.

“Why so long…” Connor points to his screen with two fingers. He reminds you of Logan trying to figure out new electronics when he doesn’t have an assistant nearby to do it for him. “Her dot is at an aquarium supply retailer. That doesn’t look safe- is that a drug thing?”

“No.” Looking behind Con’s back, you see Roman mouth ‘I love him’ across the way at you. You respond with blowing a little kiss in his direction.

“You sure?”

“I am sure.”

“It is. It’s a drug thing.” Roman moves in, working his magic to aggravate Connor in a way only a younger brother can.

“Now she’s at a dry cleaners?” Connor runs a hand through his hair.

“She’s probably getting her panties clean. Mussed 'em up a bit.” They’re too preoccupied with bickering to notice as Kendall waves to your drinks and departs the bar on a phone call.

You sigh as the two boys continue clashing, moving over to grab your drink from its spot on the bar. The drink is good enough. The vodka’s not very smooth and the orange peel looks like it was cut by a 5th grader, but it’s better than you expected from the shabby chic destination. When you start to hear Roman mention cum, you decide to break into the conversation.

“Hey guys. Drinks. Look.” You speak slowly, making big hand gestures like you’re talking to toddlers. It gets a scoff from Roman, but breaks up the tension enough for Connor to come over and grab his (definitely not Belgian, probably not even wheat based) beer. Shiv joins you too to grab her club soda. “How do we feel about food?”

“I could eat.” Connor is still pretty engrossed in his phone, but looks away for a few moments to sip from his glass. For what it’s worth, he doesn’t complain about the taste.

“Shall we grab some menus?” Rome strolls over to grab his tonic, making his way to the nearest table.

“Here? Isn’t that guaranteeing food poisoning?” Shiv crosses her arms, holding her position at the bar as she glares at your brother.

“Come on Shivvy, we’re being average citizens. Remember?” You bite your lower lip in a smile, following Rome to sit at the table. Con comes with you, not even bothering to look up from his device as he just moves with the crowd. She’s out ruled, once again, and gives in to join you three. It’s only a few seconds later than Kendall joins you again, an indistinguishable look on his face.

“Hey, what’s up? What did I miss?” His tone doesn’t give anything away, the same monotone, muttered pitch that you’re used to.

“We’re… eating! Right here!” Kendall sits in the free chair next to Roman as the younger man points animatedly to the menu in front of him. “Billy Ray Cyrus’s Kentucky Fried Shit Shack.”

“Roman, they’re gonna spit in your food if they hear you say that.” You shake your head, a small smile on your face as you turn your attention to your own laminated menu.

“Well, they seem to have some hearty fare.” Connor follows your lead, looking over the meal options himself.

“What was that shit?” You’re glad Roman asks before you do. The question is on your mind too, but it sounds less suspicious coming from your brother.

“Uh- Stewy…”

“Oh great, what the fuck now? What?”

“Well actually guys, can i- can i show you something?” Ken pulls out his phone, screen illuminating his face in the dark lighting of the bar.

“Yeah…” Shiv leans over to peek at Kendall’s phone while Roman tries to tune out the action happening before him. Instead of giving Ken the attention he’s asking for, Rome’s eyes scan the menu before he begins his interruption.

“Ooo, wings! I wonder from which particular creature they snip these wings.” He shifts the cadence of his voice, making his tone all whimsical and silly. “Perhaps a mammal…”

It’s um… on the comparables. It’s- it’s actually pretty fucking intriguing.” The information Kendall gives leaves a puzzled look on your face.

“Wait… why are you looking at the market comparables for Waystar?” You set down your menu as you make eye contact with Ken, narrowing your gaze slightly. “I thought you three were done with the company, completely into your Pierce-thing now.”

“Well, it just makes you think.” Shiv pitches in, your eyes shifting to her, brows still furrowed in question. “Maybe Dad isn’t on it like he used to be… he’s getting pushed around-”

“Fuck, she’s in the East River.” Connor’s outburst makes you whip around in his direction. You feel like a bobble head trying to even out our attention between your siblings. “She in the fucking- wait, no. She’s on the bridge, she’s headed to uh- Williamsberg.”

“Con, I love you, but there’s other shit going on.” You keep your tone gentle with him, a reassuring but slightly strained smile on your face.

“Not to be dicks but- can we do a little breakout chat? Just the three of us?” Shiv is already moving in her seat by the time the question is out of her mouth. Her eagerness makes you crinkle your nose in agitation. “We won’t be long, like, two minutes max.”

“Hey, fuck it. Why don’t we fold them in?” Rome scratches his nose and raises his shoulders in indifference as he addresses your sister.

“Well, they’re not on the board so…”

“Yeah but they have sizable shares, so if the deal-” Roman makes a cutting sound low in his throat, “-they lose their payouts.”

“Excuse me?” Connor’s focus is finally on the group instead of his phone, his hand now holding the beer glass he’d previously forgotten.

“Oh yeah, so, Shiv wants us to get mixed up in some sort of drug deal that will fuck the vote tomorrow.” And all your suspicions are unfortunately confirmed.

“You wanna fuck the deal?!” You can’t keep the shock from your voice.

“Um, no. A small delay, we all want the deal.”

“And, look- I think I agree.” Kendall’s admission just surprises you more, causing you to shake your head lightly in disbelief.

“Oh, what the fuck now?”

“So, what? You think Waystar’s worth more than what Luk- or, Matsson’s paying, and you want to drive the price up?” Shiv and Ken nod in confirmation. “That’s so fucking stupid, he’ll walk if you try to force him to that!”

“Yeah, you’re gonna force Dad to grovel?” Connor steps in again, his expression mirroring yours. “Oh man, how long will a renegotiation take?”

“It’s a play.” Shiv moves her hands in front of her like she’s trying to smooth the air between you, trying to brush the tension away from the five of you. “More money is more money, and that’s all there is to it.”

“I just- I can’t” You stand from your seat, moving to squeeze behind Connor’s chair. “I need a break, just give me a minute.”

“What, you running to Daddy?” Shiv calls from behind you. You flip her off.

It’s not too difficult to find the bathroom in the restaurant, luckily it’s an individual stall with a lock on the entrance door. As soon as the latch comes down, you take a deep breath and let your back rest against the white tiled wall behind you. A hand comes up to brush hair out of your face, you fold your arms across your chest with a sigh. Reasonably, you should call your Dad. You should tell him about their scheming like a good daughter, let him deal with your traitorous siblings in any way he sees fit. But as you reach for your phone, your fingers end up dialing a different number.

“Have you been talking to my siblings?”

“A few of them, yeah.” Lukas answers your Facetime on the first ring, your phone showing an image of him sitting back in an armchair, donning a white tank top.

“Like, recently?”

“I just called Kendall a few minutes ago.”

“Fucking- I knew it.” Your jaw clenches involuntarily. If you were still a child, you’d be stomping your foot in anger.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Lukas’s face tenses a bit, his eyebrows coming up to form lines on his forehead as he questions you.

“Whatever you said, it’s convinced Kendall to fuck the board vote tomorrow.”

“Oh, really?” Despite the inquiry in his voice, he doesn’t seem surprised at the fact.

“They want more money from you, these market price comparables have influenced at least two of them, probably even more board members” Your filter for business information has been blown to pieces, at this point you’re letting whatever you want fly from your mouth. You’ll probably regret it in the morning.

“I figured.”

“Are you really gonna walk if they try to negotiate for more?” You can’t help the pitiful, almost whiny sound at the end of your question.

“Hey, it’s okay, I have it figured out. The deal will be fine regardless of what happens, I promise you.” Lukas’s tone takes on that nurturing tint he uses when you get flustered around him. You know that if you were there in person, he’d be pulling you into his lap to stroke your hair. “This has got you all worked up, huh?”

“I just- I feel so torn lately.” The sharp edge to your voice begins fading as he starts to coax the anger out of your system. “I just want everything to work out and everyone to be happy. And that’s really fucking hard when the people you love are all at eachother’s throats.”

“I know, you shouldn’t have to go through that. You’re just so caring, sometimes you can’t look out for yourself.”

“I really miss you.” Your voice breaks a bit at the confession, fingers coming up to dab at the few tears that have gathered in your waterline. These moments with Lukas are like nights. Nights where the sky is dark and covered in clouds, and every once in a while the moon will peak through the haze and illuminate the entire world below. Somehow, just a minute with Lukas will brighten your entire demeanor, and will change you for the better.

“I miss you.” There’s a sad sort of smile on his face when he continues. “You have to take care of yourself when I’m not there. Don’t get overly involved with this shit, you know it’s ultimately out of your hands.”

“I- it’s like there’s so much going on I don’t even know about. And I’m just over here worried about how everyone feels.”You wrinkle your nose at the mention of feelings. Lukas gives a small chuckle at that, you wiping your tears with a newfound smile. “You should’ve seen me, I got so pissed when they said they were gonna fuck you over.”

“Aw you defended me?” He makes a little pouty face, putting out his lower lip with his best puppy dog eyes to make you laugh. “I love it when you’re feisty, turns me on.”

“Can I come up?”

“Absolutely, just tell me when. We have our company retreat soon, so before or after that I’ll carve out some time for you.”

“Oh gee thanks, cutting out time from your busy schedule to be with your girlfriend.” Lukas gives a fake frown at that, your smile grows wider in response. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

You hang up the call with a wave before tucking your phone back into your bag. Going to the janky mirror bolted to the wall, you fix any smeared eye makeup after splashing a little cool water on your face to calm down. Your head feels clearer after that conversation, your emotions more regulated and understanding a little deeper of the issue at hand. It’s strange how just a few minutes away from your family can change your mood so severely. Making your way back down the wood paneled wall of the bar, you join the silhouettes of your siblings back at the table.

“-I wanted to get married tomorrow. I wanted to spend tonight with my family and tomorrow with my dad and I wanted to get my fucking money out.” Connor’s arms are crossed as you back down next to him, shooting a concerned look to your other siblings. “If I were you I wouldn’t have fucking come back.” He gives you a shake of his head and a glare from the corner of his eye.

“What even was that about? Were… were you telling Dad?” Kendall raises his eyebrows as he addresses your presence again.

“No, I wasn’t. That’s your own shit, I don’t wanna be involved.” He nods, but still has a look of suspicion in his eyes. “Sometimes you guys just give me migraines. But anyway, can we do anything else, Con?”

“...I would like to sing one fucking song at karaoke, because I’ve see it in the movies, and nobody ever wants to go.” There’s a short pause before Connor speaks, but he seems happy enough to switch the subject. Shiv smiles in the background of your view, Roman puts his head down on the sticky surface of the table. You put an arm around the back of Connor’s chair and smile at him during the lull in conversation.

“You wanna do karaoke?” He nods. “Let’s do it, Mr. Bachelor. You only live once.” His face lights up at your optimism, Kendall looks at your other siblings in apprehension.

“Can we do literally anything else?” Rome’s voice is muffled from its position, and Shiv puts a hand on his back in consolation.

“Come on, one song on the night before his wedding. Toughen up, Rome.” Ken deciding to support the idea makes it 3 to 2, Connor wins.

And so, with a substantial amount of whining from Roman, your party makes its way to a new location. This time, Connor allows you to get chauffeured by his driver, sparing you from the cold New York air. The karaoke bar is all modern white surfaces and bright pink lighting. The partygoers range from business men just getting off work to bachelorette parties dressed in animal prints. Luckily, the venue has a private room available at short notice and the five of you are quickly escorted there by a polite usher.

“So, what happens now?” Connor walks to the center of the room, not waiting for the door to be fully closed before eagerly exploring the new space.

“Uh, well… someone has to humiliate themselves in the shame palace.” Shiv holds up an inflatable saxophone toy with a smirk while your brother joins Con on the couch.

“It’s not humiliation, Siobhan. It’s supposed to be fun, remember?” You move to a wall holding a mounted flatscreen and two wireless microphones, beginning to fiddle with the electronic there.

“Think they have "Desperado" by The Eagles?”

“I would imagine they do. Longest night of my life.” Roman is still looking around with his hands on his hips, surveying the room with a grimace on his face

“Oh, shit. She's gone dark- why has she gone dark?” Connor is once again transfixed on his phone, a panicked expression coming across his features as he rambles. “I mean… is this it? Is she going off with some buck and they're gonna…you know?”

“Hey, take it easy. Kendall moves the thick book of songs that Connor had been flipping through over to himself, trying to calm him with his causal tone. “Maybe-maybe her phone just died.”

“Yeah. Have you ever considered that she might not be right for you? This could be good. Yeah?” Shiv is still perched by the tub of comical accessories, saxophone now abandoned as she leans with her hand placed on the counter. “You'll meet someone else.”

“Connor?” There’s a pause in Kendall’s speech, a soft look in his eyes when he continues. “You're not doing better than Willa.”

“I would agree. Do not let Willa go.”

“Romulus.” Ken’s begun to pour the provided champagne, holding a glass out to his younger brother carefully. When you see the drinks begin flowing, you make your way over to your brothers, leaving your attempt at understanding the karaoke technology begin. A chime on Connor’s phone grabs his attention again, a low sigh leaving his mouth before he speaks.

“So… Dad’s on his way.”

“What?”

“He wants us to meet him down at the car when he gets here.” Connors admission makes even you puzzled, looking around at your siblings in confusion.

“What the fսck?” Shiv opens her arms, clearly in a similar state of discomposure.

“How does he know we're here? How do you know he’s coming?” Kendall’s voice takes on a bit of an angry edge as he looks at you. “Did you tell him? Is that what that little ‘break’ was about earlier?”

“No, I wouldn’t do that!” You’re quick to defend yourself, crossing your arms over your chest as some kind of protection, some kind of armor.

“Fuck, you totally did. You’re lying!” Shiv sounds shrill behind you, her accusatory tone making you draw your eyebrows together in annoyance.

“Well, no. I told him… that it’s the night of a thousand wobbles over here and he needs to talk to you.” Connor finally steps in, taking the heat off you.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” You turn back to your oldest brother, arms coming out in an expression of absolute bafflement.

“My life isn’t filled with secrets like some people. I share things, and I want my father to be at my wedding.” Shiv moves to the back to the couch, leaning over it with two hands bracing herself.

“You mean you want the money?”

“Well no- Siobhan, that was not my primary consideration.”

“I mean, what do we do? Do we- do we leave? I mean…” Roman’s moved a hand to his mouth, chewing at his fingernails in anxiety. It’s always startling to you, how quickly he can turn subservient at the mention of your father. “Will he come in? He’s not coming in, right?”

“I am totally down to leave.” You move closer to Roman’s side in support. “I don't want to be around you-” your finger points at Connor in objection “if you pull insane shit like this!”

“This doesn’t even affect you, why are you so upset?” Shiv’s eyes narrow in a glare at you, still suspicious from your current connection to Logan.

“Because it’s evil and manipulative and- fucking conniving!”

“You know what? Just be water, my friend.” Kendall is surprisingly calm in the situation. You wonder if he’s high.

“‘Just be wat-’ Wow, thanks man.” Roman turns to you. “What happens if I kill a Buddist? Do I get reincarnated as a fucking Buddhist?”

“I hope not.” You sigh, grabbing the champagne from your brother's hand and swallow it in one gulp. “Fuck it, I’m really just gonna leave. I don’t think I can take any more of this shit tonight.”

“Honestly I would too, you don’t need to be a part of this.” Roman runs a hand through his hair as he begins pacing across the room.

“I don’t know whether to be offended or not…” You move to reach across the island table grabbing the mostly full bottle of champagne from its resting place. “I’ll just deal with Dad on my own. I’d rather not experience his wrath in front of other people. And looking at Connor makes me want to vomit right now”

“Fair enough.” Kendall is still calm, leaning back on the couch as he addresses you with an expression so neutral that it makes you want to roll your eyes.

“Do you wanna come with?” You make eye contact with Roman, eyebrows raising in question.

“... I dunno-”

“If you wanna run away you can. Just send him another little text later, ‘Sorry I missed you Daddy, take care!’” Shiv makes her voice all whiny when she quotes your brother. She’s clearly trying to aggravate him, get him to stay even if it’s not the best idea. You silently pray that Roman’s strong enough to resist her.

“Fine, I’ll fuckin- stay. Let Dad strangle all of us together, mass homicide.” But he’s not. He gives in to Shiv too easily, makes you frown in empathy.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Text me later okay? I worry about you guys.” As you turn to leave, you add one thing over your shoulder with a little grin. “Don’t… don’t let him push you around. As much as I disagree with you, you have to make your own choices. Even if they’re wrong.”

On the way home you finish the bottle, staring out the backseat window of the SUV as the bright lights of NYC whizz past you. When you enter your apartment, you only pause to set down the empty drink and kick off your heels before flopping back onto your bed. Your chest is a little giggly and your brain is a little fuzzy from the alcohol. So of course you decide it’s the perfect time to call your boyfriend.

“Hiii!” You speak as soon as he answers, drawing out the word with a cheeky smile on your face. You’ve rolled onto your stomach by now, supporting yourself with your elbows as you gaze lovingly down at the image of Lukas in your phone.

“Oh, you’re drunk. And sexy.” You laugh at that, it’s always surprising how quickly Lukas can read you. To be fair, you do look really hot. Your cheeks are flushed, your hair is messy, and your mascara is smudged beneath your eyes. It reminds Lukas of how you look after he’s fucked you really well.

“Yeah…I drank a bottle of champagne. By myself.”

“Things went that bad?” His eyebrows furrow a bit as he questions you, clearly worried about your wellbeing.

“Kinda? It was actually Connor’s fault this time though.” You roll onto your back with a sigh, hair splaying out behind you in a halo. You hold your screen above your head, giving Lukas a little peak at the cleavage coming out of your shirt.

“Really? What happened?” His eyes dart to the sliver of your skin, but come back up to your eyes as he awaits your response.

“He, like, went to our dad about the shit Shiv and Rome and Ken are up to. The vote stuff I told you about.”

“And Logan was mad?”

“I assume so? I kinda left before he got there… it was just too much.” Your lips come together in a frown. “I dunno, maybe I shoulda stayed.”

“No, no, you did good. Looking out for yourself like I told you to.” Lukas gives a smile that you can’t help but mirror. He knows how his praise gets you.

“Maybe, we’ll see what happens. With him it’s like night or day. He’ll either love that I didn’t agree with them or hate that I didn’t rat them out to him.”

“Well, I’m proud of you. Regardless of what he says.” His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, eyes traveling back down to your cleavage.

“Thank you.” You pause for a second just looking at him before you continue. “If I wasn’t so drunk I’d have Facetime sex with you right now.”

“I can tell. Your pupils are so big your eyes look black.” Playfully, you roll your eyes in response. “Call me in the morning, I’ll take care of you then.”

“Okayyy, and I’ll see you soon right? Come up before your retreat thing?”

“Of course. I’ll talk to you in the morning, go get some sleep.”

You do end up getting some sleep that night, following your boyfriend's wishes. But you also energetically masturbate to his past dick pics to tire yourself out. When you tell him that in the morning, he audibly groans at the fact that he missed watching you.

In the end, Logan isn’t mad at you. He’s not pleased either. But, being indifferent is better than you expected. Atleast, that’s what you tell yourself. He invites you with the core executive crew to come to Sweden for a sudden meeting with Matsson, and of course you accept. It means you’ll miss Connor’s wedding, but you honestly don’t want to see him right now anyways. Plus, it means you get to see Lukas sooner than expected. Ken ended up texting you a brief recap of what happened after you left last night. When you read it in the morning it makes you glad that you weren’t there.

It almost feels like yesterday was a dream. Like life is all back to normal now and things will carry on just as they always have. The deal will go through, Logan will be happy leading ATN, your siblings will be happy with Pierce, or whatever they end up working with. And you will live happily ever after with Lukas, ideally on Mars, or in outer space, or some other place that alienates you from all physical contact with your family.

At least some of that ends up happening.

#ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #succession #succession fanfic #alexander skarsgard #lukas matsson #lukas matsson x reader #lukas matsson x you #lukas matsson x oc #lukas matsson x ofc #lukas matsson fic #lukas matsson fanfic #lukas matsson imagine #snow's fics #a body of impulses

95 notes · View notes

happy74827 · 2 months

Text

Just Words

[Siobhan Roy x GN!Reader]

Synopsis: Words can be hurtful (especially to most) but with Siobhan’s “5-star” personality and ability to not care about anything other than herself, you can’t help BUT spill some words. {GIF Creds: @olliviacooke// I took this off of google (fair warning) so I had to dig deep to find the OP}

WC: 2274

Category: Slight Fluff (?), Enemies to… trope {Trigger Warning: Foul Language (I really channeled the Roy family here), Logan}

I did not expect my first succession fic to be Siobhan… but honestly, I’m not complaining 👀 (fyi: this was a request and I stupidly forgot to “answer” so hopefully the anon who requested lovely Shiv finds this 💀)

『••✎••』

Siobhan Roy… mega bitch. You hated her. Well, that might be an understatement; you despised her. From the moment you met her, she was just a total and complete pain in your ass. Not to mention completely and utterly self-absorbed. She had the attitude and ego of a child.

So when you were made to work with her, you were less than pleased. Logan Roy, the only man who could top Siobhan in terms of being an insufferable asshole, had made you a deal. If you and Siobhan worked together to find a solution to the media shitstorm he was currently experiencing, he would put you on the team that handled the IPO of Waystar. It was the opportunity you had been waiting for, so you sucked it up and agreed.

You and Siobhan sat in the meeting, both of you looking like a pair of miserable children. It made Roman look like a ray of sunshine, and that was really saying something.

Logan slammed the door, causing you to flinch.

"Fuck," he said, taking his seat.

"What?" asked Siobhan, a tinge of irritation in her voice. It’s amazing how her mood could shift on a dime.

"Nothing. I'm just a bit tired of this fucking circus."

"Well, what the fuck do you expect? You made a public promise. If you can't make good on it, why not just say so? Why continue this fucking farce?"

Logan narrowed his eyes at her.

"If I wanted to hear that, Siobhan, I would have gone to my wife's bed. I don't need a cunt in my ear right now."

Siobhan rolled her eyes. "Jesus fucking Christ. I'm a realist. You're the one who wants to live in your fantasy world. Just fucking drop the bomb, tell the truth, and let's move on."

"The truth? And what is the truth? That my son’s a psychotic, drug-addled mess? That Kendall is a sniveling, entitled little fuck? A pathetic, whiny, little shit stain who can't do his job because he's too busy jerking himself off to his own sob story? Is that the truth you want to set free?"

Siobhan stared him down, and once again, you were surprised. You had thought the woman was completely brazen, but there were still limits.

"I'm not your therapist," she said.

"No. You're not. And I'm not going to sit here and listen to a woman with the emotional range of a fucking teaspoon telling me how to handle this situation. Now, I need to get on the phone with my PR team. Fuck off, all of you. Get back to work."

You and Roman both jumped up, quickly leaving the room. Once you were safely away from Logan, you took a deep breath and relaxed a bit.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you muttered, "I don't know how she does it."

Roman smirked, "Oh, she's a special snowflake—a real ball buster. You should see her with Tom. It's a fucking bloodbath."

“Tell me about it. It’s a raging dumpster fire, even saying more than two words to her. I feel like she's going to snap my head off any minute. I’m so tired of her bullshit, and she's the least of my worries. The whole family is a fucking disaster. And I don't have time for any of it…. No offense.”

Roman gave you a half smile. "None taken. You're right; I'm the best of a very bad lot."

"Well, at least you're self-aware."

“You fuckers talking shit about me behind my back?"

You turned and saw Shiv leaning against the wall.

"Always," replied Roman. "And it's fucking hilarious."

"Well, don't let me stop you," she said, rolling her eyes. Her eyes then shifted to you.

"I didn't realize we were having a fucking slumber party."

"Just having a bit of a break," you said.

"Oh, well, that's very fucking nice. I'm glad everyone is taking a fucking break because I've been dealing with our father, who is a raging psycho at the moment. You know, while the rest of you are fucking around, the company is dying. It's falling apart, and everyone is too fucking busy to give a shit."

"Come on, Shivvy. Take a breather. You’re starting to act like Kendall… and that's never a good look," said Roman.

"Fuck off, Ro.”

Shiv glared at him, then glanced back at you. The glare made you want to hide, but you refused to show fear in front of her. You had done it in the past, and it only fed her.

"Well," she said, "aren't you going to say anything? Or are you just going to stand there with your mouth open like an idiot?"

"I think I'll take option B. I'd like to live through this," you replied.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"I think it's pretty clear."

"Yeah, I suppose it is. I guess I shouldn't expect someone like you to understand."

"Someone like me?"

“Shiv,” warned Roman, trying to interject. Personally, despite his whacked-out sense of humor, you actually enjoyed his company. He was definitely the least obnoxious of the Roy siblings. “Let’s not get into this now, okay? Just drop it."

"No. No, go ahead, Shiv. Let's have it out. Right here, right now. Let's see if you can handle it."

Shiv stared at you for a few moments, then she smiled. It wasn’t her usual smug, condescending grin. It was different, almost sincere.

"You think you're tough?" she asked.

"No. I know I am. It's a little different, don't you think?"

"Okay," she replied, her eyes darkening. She leaned forward, her face just inches from yours. Roman just looked at the two of you as if watching a tennis match. "You're so sure you can handle me. So why don't you prove it?"

"Prove it? Like, what, punch you in the face? Is that what you want?"

"Although, as satisfying as that sounds, I was thinking we all should just move on… maybe have a drink, talk it over? Yeah? No?”

Shiv just looked at you. "Yeah, I'll pass. I'm not here to make friends, and I'm certainly not here to kiss your ass."

"That's good. Because, honestly, I don't see you as the ass-kissing type. Tom, yes. You? Not a chance. You're the type who wants everything to be handed to you on a silver platter. I'm sorry, but I'm not the maid. I'm not going to serve you or kiss your ass. I'm here because I have a job to do, and I intend to do it. That's it.”

"Oh, right. I see. Well, then, why don't we cut the bullshit and just get right to it. How about you go back to whatever shithole you crawled out of and let the real people get on with things."

“Guys-” Roman started.

"Real people? Real people? You think you're real? You think this is real? I hate to break it to you, Siobhan, but you're not a princess, and this isn't a fairy tale. You're not the queen. Your father isn't the king. You're a spoiled brat, and he's… well, he’s Logan. He's not even a king. He's just a bully."

"Is that supposed to hurt me? To insult me?"

"No, but you seem like the kind of person who doesn't take criticism well. You’re doing a terrible job.”

Shiv stared at you, her lip curled up in disgust. She looked as if she were about to hit you, but the rage was just a facade.

"Well," she finally said, "It's a good thing we're not here to play fucking games, then. So why don't you shut the fuck up and get back to work? Unless, of course, you don't think you can handle it. Maybe you should just go back to where you came from, and let the real people get on with things."

Your nostrils flared. It took every ounce of strength in you not to smack the look off her face. But you knew better. If you started a fight, Logan would take your head off, and that was a fight you couldn't win. So, instead, you smiled.

"Fine," you said. "If that's what you want. I'll do my job, and you do yours. But, just remember, the day is coming when this little charade is going to come to an end, and when it does, it's going to be a lot worse than it is right now."

You didn't wait for her reply. Instead, you turned and walked away, leaving the two of them standing in the hallway.

Once you were back in the safety of your office, you collapsed into your chair and let out a sigh. You had just gotten your first taste of a Roy fight, and it was worse than you had anticipated. The worst part was Siobhan had gotten the last word. It didn't matter that you might’ve won. She had gotten the last good word, and you hated her for it.

As the hours ticked by, you became more and more frustrated. You were angry and bitter. You were pissed at yourself for letting Shiv get under your skin, and you were angry at her for getting to you.

So, when your phone rang and you saw her name, you were tempted to ignore it. You let it ring for a few seconds, then decided to answer.

"Yes?” Your attitude was short.

"Get your shit together," she snapped. “We have a meeting in five minutes. We have a lot of ground to cover."

That was, in fact, false. By the time you arrived, the conference room was deserted, and only Shiv remained. She was sitting at the table, her laptop open in front of her.

"What the hell?" you demanded.

"I'm sorry. Did you want a fucking audience? Because that can be arranged. But, if you don't mind, I would prefer not to have any interruptions."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that we are both here, and we have a job to do. Now, either sit down and help me, or fuck off. I really don't give a shit."

You stared at her, and she looked up from her laptop, raising an eyebrow. There was no audience, and there wasn’t going to be one. So, you had two options. Either walk away and look like an idiot, or stay and possibly get chewed out again. You took a deep breath and sat down.

Shiv just hummed in response, then looked back at her screen. "Good choice."

For the next couple of hours, the two of you worked together, trying to figure out a way to turn the situation around. Arguments arose, shots were fired, and at one point, Shiv threatened to kick you out, but overall, it was a productive session. Logan wouldn’t be pissed, so that was a win.

"So," Shiv said as the two of you left the building, "Did you cool down?"

"What?"

"I'm asking if you cooled down. Do you feel better now?"

"Um, yeah, sure. Why wouldn't I? You know, besides the fact that we were at each other's throats for hours and the fact that we both wanted to kill each other. I'm peachy."

"Mm, peachy." She said the word like it was an insult. "That's a strange choice of words, don't you think?”

“What? The real people don’t use the word peachy, huh? Is it beneath you, Shiv? Do you only use fancy words and proper grammar?"

"Oh, I can be a real commoner when the situation calls for it. It's all about knowing your audience."

"Really? So, is this the commoner Shiv? Should I expect a new side of you?"

"Maybe.” She smiled oddly again. The one that made you nervous. "Maybe not. That depends on you. Do you want to know the real me?"

"No, not particularly."

"Good. Because I'm not interested in showing you. I’m just curious if you have what it takes."

"To what, put up with your bullshit? To put up with a spoiled brat who thinks the world is hers for the taking? Mmm, yeah, I think I've got what it takes."

"Okay, first off, fuck you. Second, you're a piece of shit. Third, I have something to tell you. So, listen up. This is important. Okay, ready?"

You were about to say something, but her expression stopped you. Her voice was low, her tone serious. You nodded.

"I'm a bitch. And, yeah, I have a temper, and I'm not a warm and fuzzy kind of girl. But, that's the thing, I don't need to be. I don't need to pretend that I'm anything other than who I am. I don't have to fake it because I know what I want, and I'm not afraid to go after it. That’s what you need to understand. It's not about what you think you need. It's about what you want and what you're willing to do to get it."

You just stared at her, unsure of what to say.

"So, let me ask you, what do you want? And are you willing to do what it takes to get it?"

You thought about it for a second. "I want a drink. A strong one."

A little comedy never hurt anyone. And judging by her expression, you could tell you had made her smile.

"Well, that's a start." Siobhan had a smirk on her face. "Alright, fine. Let's get that drink. Then we'll see how far that gets you."

"Yeah," you muttered, "I'm sure."

But, as you walked down the street, you couldn't help but think about the question. What did you want?

And what was Siobhan offering?

57 notes · View notes

vclvetfleur · 10 months

Text

Obedient Chapter 11

roman roy x fem!reader

Summary: You were invited to come with Roman to Argestes. Unknowingly to you, a huge scandal was about to drop onto the company. Roman needs to land a deal with another nepo baby that would finally make Logan think he was good enough. And you were challenged by juggling your relationship with Roman and friendship with Jess.

TW: Sexism, Alcohol use, nepotism, jealousy, smut MDNI

Word Count: 5.6K

Notes: This took a while, but I'm so glad everyone is enjoying the story. I already have another idea for another story. So once this is done, I will be starting another. Also the Cruises scandal is about to break.

Chapter 11: Billionaire Nepo babies.

You and Roman spent most of your days together once again. You both had kept whatever this was between the two of you extremely private just to save you both from some kind of explosive drama that would definitely arise if you were both found out. You were happy with this agreement and Roman was happy to just finally be able to hold you in his own arms. He could fully be himself without a single judgment.

You weren’t just two people hooking up though, in fact, you haven’t even had any sexual contact with him rather than feeling him once that completely freaked him out. He wasn’t ready, but he had never told you that. He just gave the excuse of wanting to take it slow with you. But he had continuously made sexual innuendos and constant references, without acting or doing anything. You tried not to get hurt by it. I mean- Roman did nearly lose it over the fact you wouldn’t be with him in the first place. It was obvious that he did want you. Plus, you were his assistant, you had access to all his messages and emails. Roman had no one else to hide.

You both had spent the entire morning, making fuck me eyes at one another and light flirting within the privacy of his office. You were just always a little too close to him and vice versa.

You hated that you had to lie to Jess though. That’s what you did every day though. You lied to her face every time you saw her, never mentioning you and Roman’s weird relationship. You never had to do that before. Whenever you were in a relationship, Jess was always the first to know when you were seeing someone new or if you even had feelings for another person. It felt wrong to keep it from her, but you knew it would be for the best.

You even lied to Kendall, saying nothing at all happened and that you just went home. But you ended up apologizing to Roman. Kendall didn’t entirely believe you, but there wasn’t much he could do to pry the real details from you.

Either way, you and Roman were happy with your arrangement. It was the most stable ‘relationship’ if you could even call it that, you’ve ever been in. And this was the most Roman had ever put out of his way for someone he liked.

You were both were finally comfortable for the first time in your lives.

But a scandal was soon to break out on the Roys and one branch of their company, Cruises. None of the kids, except Kendall were filled in yet. Only the PR team and certain members of the board. They were trying to make it go away just before the conference that the family was going to, but it just was getting worse and worse as more people came out against the family. You sat in the back seat with Roman, driving to this conference together, a little late to it. There were a ton of reporters outside the venue, trying to snap pictures of the car and what was inside. Roman couldn’t help but laugh and point at them. “Look at these fucking idiots.” He giggled again before leaving the car and posing for the camera before dismissing them. You quickly followed behind though. “Looks like there’s not going to be much privacy this weekend. Maybe we could get some really sexy pictures out of it though.” Roman whispered to you. You gave him a look and just went through the building, ignoring his flirtatious comment. Kendall left right after us with Jess, getting his badges with you and Roman, but Roman just made ignorant comments to the worker. You left with Jess to get everything settled for the event. This was the way for the Roys to finally get back in with Nan.

You watched a few people along with Logan and Kendall rush into a room as if they knew something really important. “Uh-Jess why are they?” You pointed out. Jess looked just as confused as you were. Roman was out there still making fun of Tom and Greg to their face, while everyone else was talking about something that Roman had no idea about. “What the fuck?” You whispered.

Logan had left the room, and everyone broke out to work on their own way of shutting this scandal down.

Gerri left, looking for Roman. Gerri had tried to get Roman involved. She needed to find a way to make Roman seem more worthy than his dad thought he was. She had been eyeing this billionaire son for a bit, knowing they could possibly buy them out and it would be huge for Waystar incase Pierce dropped out, which was likely. You couldn’t help but stare, Jess catching you.

“Roman’s playing mommy again.” Jess giggled. You looked at her, holding back your laugh. “Uh-wait are you still meeting with me to get ready to the party?” She asked you. You stopped to think but nodded.

“Of course, we gotta see what looks good on each other if we wanna manipulate them to buy us a new wardrobe.” You joked. It was your lifestyle you use to live with Jess from when you guys had first met, probably the first three years of your relationship consisted of it. You and Jess would flirt with promoters to get into clubs or message them to boost their egos. You both eventually got into very exclusive clubs and parties and had led rich men into thinking they were going to get anything out of you for luxurious stuff like dinners or other social events or even just items. You weren’t a sugar baby, just you were able to talk your way into certain things with these men. Jess had to break away from you and scheduled to see you at 6:30 at her hotel room. You just planned on getting the two of you tequila in the room before she got there so you both could also drink beforehand. You found Roman, standing with himself as he had just given up on talking to others at the party.

Gerri had to remind him that despite having Shiv be her dads right hand man, it could change if Roman was more serious. Roman wasn’t taking it too well. You’ve seen how the toll of this entire thing had taken on him. He was upstairs, with a green Perrier bottle in his hand, bringing it over to his lips every so often. He leaned on the railing, scanning the room. “Hey. You done overlooking the party batman?” You teased him.

“Fucking haha- uh- I’m just tryna think… Thought if I posed like this, you’d find it sexy and wouldn’t be able to control yourself.” He lied, his sad pouty lips curling into a smirk as he brought the green bottle to his lips again and sipped on it.

You giggled, leaning on the railing the same as him, looking over the party. “What were you looking at?” You asked. You scanned the room to see potential people for Roman to eventually fuck over. Roman pointed the man sitting down in some leather chair talking to some women.

“Eduard. He’s some rich dickhead Gerri thinks I should talk to to win daddy’s love.” Roman scoffed. You eye the man down, asking why Gerri would ask. Roman went into the same details, all be it more melo-dramatic, that Gerri had before. You nodded, trying to think it over.

“I think it could work. Just don’t be an asshole.” You warned him. “You could do it at the party.” You shrugged. It could work. There was enough time, it would be a friendly setting. Roman was better at informal meetings than formal ones. He was way better at the casual ‘im your friend’ kind of parts of the business. Kendall just came off as too intimidating or too much of a kiss up for his dad. It made the deals usually seem so artificial.

You went out of your way to make Roman actually speak to other though. He had never been so reserved until this massive ego bruise that his dad had left him. You had to push Roman back out of his shell. But before you knew it, you had to go meet with Jess. “Uh Rome- I will see you after at the party, okay? Uh- good luck.” You gave him a gentle longing hand hold, something discreet enough to remind Roman you weren’t leaving him. “I’m gonna just meet with Jess and get ready. It’ll be worth it. I promise.” You winked before leaving him behind. He looked completely lost without you. You felt bad for him. He had been on autopilot since Nan’s. You were just the one steering along with Gerri sometimes coming in as well. She had been the only one who believe in him before you came. She could see him actually growing up and doing the work that his siblings were set to do. She saw Roman’s potential. Despite all the sexual advancements in the past and the flirting Roman did, they did have that mother-son dynamic. But y’know, Romans’ mommy issues couldn’t help himself from sexualizing a motherly figure in his life.

You had grabbed a bottle of Don Julios with a liter of coke for the chasers that you were prepped to take. You knocked on Jess’ bedroom door and had it opened for you by Jess. She couldn’t keep her excitement to herself, letting out a little sequel as you both walked into her room. It was like old times. You had left your bag in Jess’ room and grabbed it, pulling out outfits you had prepared. Jess did the same and you both started with trying each thing you had on for one another to rate. After going back in forth for a while, you both came to your conclusions of what you were wearing for the night. You put music on, trying to skip through whatever sad song came up if it ever did. “Fuck.” You mumbled, getting up again after just sitting down to redo your makeup to change the song. “No- it’s fine. It’s a good song.” Jess laughed loudly at how many depressing songs kept coming through. You both had probably taken 3 shots together each at this point. “Yea cause listening to Mitski is really what I want to hear while getting drunk off of tequila.” You giggled.

You heard Jess singing along to the song, hoping you’d join her. Her hands extended out to you and sang loudly. You couldn’t help but take her hand and sing with her. “You’re coming back and IT’S THE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEND!” You both shouted, pulling each other close. Your arms wrapped around each other, swaying each other and singing the song with each other. “This is way too intimate.” Jess laughed, pulling away. There was such a closeness to you and Jess. Maybe could you had met her at such a sore spot in your life.

You had just dropped all contact with your parents. You had left them as soon as you could. You moved into your dorm and now had no reason to ever be around them or speak to them. You even had changed your number. It’s not like it mattered to them though. You had already spent a year not speaking to them. But it was a lot harder than you thought it would be. You thought you’d be so happy as soon as it was over with, but you weren’t. You had gone to your dorm that night, moving all your stuff and still felt so incredibly empty. You spent the week crying. You would roll up in your bed, clinging to your stuffed animal, wishing it could’ve been different. But this was it. And jess was there. And she listened. In fact, she had brought you around her family. Credit, they weren’t incredible, they fought with Jess, but they were a normal family. They were only angry with her when they wanted the best for her. You wanted that. And you were glad Jess was there to give you that. You were essentially indoctrinated in her family as if you were an adoptee. It felt nice. And Jess never made you feel bad about your family life. Or how you grew up. Or your other fairly obvious traumas that arised from time to time. Jess was here to listen and comfort and help you with your outbursts and emotions. You weren’t a perfect person, but Jess loved you for you.

The song changed to something you had forgotten you had in your music. “AHH!” You screamed in excitement. Mariah Carey’s ‘We Belong Together’. Jess laughed, getting up, pouring you both a shot to get you both more hyped for the party. You rushed over, downing it quickly. You swayed your hips to the song, using your hand as if it was a microphone. You both went to trying to get ready without getting so distracted, but you both did end up getting fairly distracted every so often depending on what song came through.

Jess saw your phone buzzing a few times, seeing Roman’s name come up. “Incoming, your boss needs you!” Jess threw your phone to you. You grabbed it, answering the call.

“Where are you? I’ve been here for half an hour. Wait- are you at another party?” He asked you. The music was apparently louder than you thought. You lowered the music, pulling the speaker closer to you.

“Ya, sorry. Me and Jess got distracted. We’re heading over now.” You couldn’t help but laugh as Jess was rushing to put her heels on, tripping in the process.

“Okay- I can’t wait to see for what you told me was worth it.” Roman made an attempt at flirting that wasn’t extremely vulgar. Somehow it was worse than just his extremely explicit flirtatious comments.

“Okay Roman. I’ll see you. Don’t keep me on the phone too long.” You said, pulling your shoes on. You left the room with Jess, trying to find where the party was being held. You met Roman out at front though. He seemed like a nervous wreck. He had no idea how to make the deal with Eduard. He didn’t know how he was going to do it. He needed you to calm his nerves.

“Romyyyy” Jess sang, she had a lot to drink or else she would barely acknowledge him. He looked at you, not able to keep his eyes off of how you looked. His lips slightly parted in an amused smile, making sure he got every detail down on how you looked tonight. “She had 5 shots before this. She isn’t that good with liquor.” You apologized for her, hugging Roman casually. His hand rested on your lower back, knowing Jess wouldn’t remember anyways. Or at least wouldn’t question it since it was a party after all.

Jess wondered and began her night. “So, I was looking at Eduard’s way and I just- fuck- the guys a douche.” He was flustered. You looked his direction, rolling your eyes almost immediately. He looked like the guys you would mess with in college. He was surrounded by women, his clothing was even pretentious looking, as if he had to show off everything to others.

“Look, you’re gonna be great. Just go for it. You both fit each other’s type too. Sleezy Billionaire nepo babies.” You joked, undoing his shirt a bit and making him look ready or as if he had actually been going around the party tonight. “Perfect.” You smiled.

“You sure we can’t just casually kiss? I mean assistants do that all the time. I know Greg and Tom do.” He joked, but really wishing he could kiss you in front of people. But he knew he shouldn’t. Not just for your sake but his as well. He couldn’t be too identical to his dad. “Okay fine. Meet me in the bathroom in like 15 minutes. I’m pretty sure we could play it off as a glory hole situation” Roman continued to play around before leaving you to play business flirting with Eduard. No matter how disgusting Roman could be it made him kind of endearing. It such a shameful disgusted way.

You looked for Jess but had seen her already chatting up with some guy. You left her be, going to get yourself a drink. You sipped on your colorful drink, looking around. Roman had gone in the bathroom with Eduard. You just laughed to yourself. You watched Roman come back, slightly defeated. “What happened?” You asked to be informed.

“I don’t know anything about the jackass.” He ran his fingers through his hair, letting air out. “The dumbass basically told me to make the news less sad. No one wants to watch fuckin firefighters saving babies. Or priests not diddling kids.” Roman was annoyed. You rubbed his back, pouting at how upset he seemed.

“Well if you guys are gonna talk..” You tried to make light of it. “I didn’t get his number. He did give me his cocaine though. Did he confuse me for my brother or something?” You wished you could help. You had an idea though.

“Just sit here. Here. Have my drink. I’m gonna work the deal.” You smiled, leaving a kiss onto Roman’s cheek before leaving him at the bar.

You had gone up to Eduard’s table, laying your hand on his shoulder and modeling your body down to him. This was usually your move. You leaned down, tits first, making your hips or ass look incredible as you asked for something small. “Hey, what’s your name?” You asked. You tucked your hair back, looking up at him, giving him fuck me eyes. He immediately fell into the bait. His hand rested on your waist and told you his name. You gave him yours before he insisted you sat down. He leaned forward to make you a drink. You took it, sipping on it as you laid your body close to his. You ran your fingers through his hair as he talked about whatever he was going on about. “Yeah- that’s so fucking awful…” You pitched your voice up, as if you ever really gave a fuck. “God- I mean people only really talk about negativity nowadays. I was just talking about that today with my boss.” You brought Roman up. He asked who your boss was. “I work at Waystar. But yea- we had this conversation about how we only bring up the negative bullshit in politics rather than celebrate our politicians’ achievements.” You lied. You had to play into this billionaire weridos fantasy. “Normally, I don’t even support any of that.” You continued. You knew Eduard was barely paying any attention, but whatever that would make you sleep with him was what he was willing to do. “But yea- no one fits our vision.” You lied which only prompted Eduard to put himself in on the deal.

“I would love to talk about this more tomorrow when I’m sober. But here give me your phone.” He mentioned. You did as he said and saw him put his number in along with a text sent to himself. He picked up his phone and sent you his room number, hoping you’d come. You fake laughed, running your hand down his arm.

“Well, I do think I have to go soon. I have to make sure my bosses don’t make a fool out of themselves. But I’ll try to make it over tonight. If you’re still awake.” You lied before getting up from his booth and over to Roman. He watched the whole interaction with a whole bunch of feelings being brought up. He was completely stunned at how you were. A hint of jealousy even arose. A lot actually. He was a bit turned on, but only cause of how you were even acting. He wasn’t sure if he liked watching you flirt and play around with other people. Especially since he knew you could do better. I mean- they could probably fuck you properly. But you looked so good. He was also embarrassed he couldn’t make the deal as quickly as you did. But still impressed that you managed to.

“You’re a fucking succubus. I hope you didn’t play the same little game with me.” He laughed, trying to hide the fact he was upset about it.

“Shut up. Buy me a shot for my win.” You insisted tapping him on the chest. He did just that. Along with one for him. You both downed it quickly, your face scrunching up once the taste came up on your tongue. “Besides, I actually wanna fuck you. Not that dick.” You mentioned in passing. You never really expressed yourself to Roman that way. But you had a few drinks in you to make you a bit more confident in saying so.

Roman always had this look of desperation whenever he wanted to make those fantasies a reality. You could always see him going into his own head and his dirty thoughts of what he would actually do if he actually could perform. But you assumed it was you.

Jess came over though, interrupting the two of you. “Y/n. Come on. Let’s dance!” She giggled, grabbing your hands. You looked at Roman, you two of sharing a look to her about how drunk she had been. “Come on Roman, let her have fun.” She teased.

“I-uh- I actually need to do something quickly though. But uh- yea go ahead. Have fun.” Roman shooed you two off before leaving the party. Roman’s insecurities got the best of him and he had gone off to speak to Gerri for some encouragement. He knocked on the door, making his way in. “How’d it go?” she asked concerned about his visit to her room. He sat on the kitchen counter and went into what had occurred. Mostly with you. “I mean- is it cause I don’t have tits? Is that what it is?” He tried to hide his insecurities with another reason of why his deal didn’t go perfectly.

“You should be grateful you have her Roman. She can work out the deals you can’t.” Gerri told him harshly. She saw him shifting, knowing exactly what it meant. “Roman- no.” She sighed. “Are you both fucking?” She began to parent him, knowing in the scandal they’re about to get into, this would be the worst thing to happen to the company if the news broke out. Cruises Waystar involved with sexual assault and hiding it along with the CEO’s son and possible new CEO, fucking his assistant, abusing his power.

“We’re not fucking-“He tried to explain. A silence came over him before he finally explained. “We’re… mutually… just… rubbing privates in private.” He shrugged. He couldn’t explain it better than that.

“Roman- you cannot just- “Gerri continued but Roman interrupted. “She came on to me. This wasn’t just- “Roman defended himself, but Gerri was not gonna listen. She knew how badly this could turn out. “Roman, the public won’t see it that way. Just- don’t get caught. You both deny this for however long this last.” Gerri gave him advice. Roman just nodded, staying quiet about it. He just vented to Gerri about the CEO position hoping they could come to a conclusion. Gerri cared too much for him, agreeing to his compromise of whoever became CEO would make the other one Chair.

Gerri sent him on his way, giving him one more warning. He decided to go back to the party, seeing you and Jess just having the best time. Roman was ready to just leave the scene. But you didn’t like you were. “Rome!” You called out, telling him to come over. He shook his head, turning down the offer. You pouted, going over to him and pulled on his hand. “Come ooooon, just relax. What’s got you so uptight?” You asked him.

“Uh- I think I’m just gonna go to my room.” He admitted. You didn’t want to leave, but didn’t want to not be around him.

“Just give me 5 minutes. I’ll meet you there.” You promised him. He let a smile creep up before nodding, leaving quietly.

You decided to make your escape and try to make Jess think you were going on your own. After dancing with her for one more song, you lied to her about being tired. “I’ll see you in the room, right?” Jess asked.

“Uh- no. I’m going to mine.” You continued to lie. She seemed disappointed, but you tried to get out of it quickly. “Oh please- you and the guy were hitting it off. I don’t wanna disrupt your night.” You giggled. You gave her a hug before leaving her. You walked the hall, trying to find Roman’s room. Unknowing to you, Jess got bored without you and decided to make her way to your room. She saw you make the wrong turn to your room and decided to make sure you got to your room safely.

You turned the corner, knocking on Roman’s room. He opened it, put his hand around your waist, laying a kiss on you before you both walked into his room. Jess had just turned the corner to witness it all. Her jaw dropped in complete horror, turning around and going to her room. She was hurt and frustrated. She immediately sobered up after witnessing it. You had been lying to her. She had no idea how long this was even lasting. It hurt. She felt betrayed. Someone she promised to always protect you and be there for you was lying to her. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. But it made sense now, seeing all the patterns of behavior you both displayed.

You laid down on Roman’s bed, staring at him as he was pouring himself a scotch.

“Roman..” You mumbled. He turned to you, his eyebrows raising up to wonder what you needed. “I really… really… want you to fuck me.” You were more confident after taking a shot with him earlier.

He didn’t know how to properly react. He wasn’t ready to go into his own fucked up issues with you tonight, especially now. “Uh- why?” He laughed, not knowing what else to really say. You looked at him confused, assuming he was joking with you.

“Cause- I think you’re incredibly sexy and I just know you’d listen to what I need.” You sat up, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Uh… alright.” He wanted to do this with you just as badly, just not wanting to disappoint. He knew as soon as it would come time to actually perform, he would maybe get soft and get lost and freak out and then just ruin the experience for the both of you.

“Do you just not want me” You began to question. He shook his head no, putting his glass down. He stood in front of you, cupping your cheeks, making you look at him.

“I want to do everything to you.” He promised. “Just- I don’t- I can’t…” he tried. You looked so pretty with his hands on your face. The way you looked at him quickly made him go into his own fantasies. “Can we maybe- uh-“ He tried to find the words to say without making it sound gross.

“What? I’ll do anything you want my love.” You submitted. That was probably the first time any of you had used a pet name with one another. Roman cursed under his breath, his breath getting heavy.

“Take the dress off.” He told you. You nodded, slowly stripping down for him, making eye contact as the straps of your dress came down your shoulders. You slowly unzipped the dress and had it fall down to reveal your chest. Roman moved his hand down to touch himself and watch you. You giggled, pulling the dress fully of, only revealing yourself in a thong.

“What else do you need me to do?” You asked.

“Alright… well me and my other- fuck.. this is so fucking- alright just fucking touch yourself. That’s it. Just fucking watch me and I watch you.” Roman tried to make this not sound as weird as he could but making it weirder by how nervous he had been.

You nodded, following his instructions, moving your underwear off to the side. You took two fingers, making circular motions over your folds, legs spread wide enough for Romans viewing. He put his hands under his pants, stroking himself as he kept his eyes in view of you. He was too embarrassed to reveal himself in front of you. But you weren’t taking too much into mind. You weren’t going to push. You just wanted to make him feel good.

You slid your fingers inside of yourself, another hand taking over to continue to rub circular motions onto your clit. Roman let out heavy gasps, his hand moving faster, watching you intensely, lust blinding everything around his view of you.

You moved your fingers quicker, your moans being high pitched the close you got, gasps leaving your lips as you felt yourself getting there. Roman felt himself getting on the edge before you had. His body twitched, removing his hand from his pants. His breathe was heavy as he now needed to clean himself off.

“Please let me finish you off.” He grew a sudden confidence. You nodded, moving your hands away. He sat down in front of you, laying his hands over your legs, bring a hand up. “Just fucking tell me what to do.” He warned you.

“Okay- well, first you can…” You began to guide him, moving his hand up, playing it where you had them recently. You moved his hand to the pressure that felt comfortable to you and the speed. Your breathing became irregular again, throwing your head back, holding on his wrist to let him know he was doing good. Roman wanted to learn every part of you. He needed to learn your body better than you. You moved your hips against his hand, looking over at him. “Okay, now just come closer.” You instructed. You held his head, moving it towards between your thighs. You tried to instruct him on what you exactly like. “Just whatever sound I make that doesn’t sound uncomfortable, just keep doing it.” You teased before leaving him to do what had had learned. He pressed his lips against your cunt, moving his tongue to whatever he thought he should. You moved his head to whatever felt good and Roman followed your lead. Roman eventually got the hang of it, watching your body and seeing what response you gave him that seemed good. Your breathing quickened, your hands gripping his hair, pulling him closer to you, begging him to do what you wanted to get you there. And he did everything you asked. Pleasure took over your body, your back arching and your thighs tightening around Roman. He pulled away as you seemed to be done. You tried to catch your breath, staring at the ceiling. Once your heart rate reached a normal rate, you looked over at him, still sitting in front of you. “You did so good Roman.” You praised, sitting down and leaning down to kiss him.

“Of course, I did.” He boosted his own ego. He was just glad he was able to do something for you. He was scared, but it was good enough that you didn’t need to touch or look at him. It was about you. There was no pressure on his body. He had gotten up and grabbed a change of clothes before going to the bathroom. You hadn’t brought anything to change into, just deciding to pull on one of Roman’s plain shirts.

Roman came back to see you in his shirt. “You are so fucking sexy.” He mumbled, coming to you, pulling you into another kiss. “You’re also disgusting for kissing me know where my mouth just was.”

“You say that now until you kiss me after I blow you.” You joked back. Roman wasn’t sure when he’d be ready for that to ever happen yet. But this was a major step for him. In the past year, he’s only had sex maybe twice. Once after his ego bruise made him finally attempt to fuck his ex, but that just was more of an ego bruise since she just made him feel embarrassed. And the other was with his ex-girlfriend who he had been in a long term relationship with. It was just another way to prove something. He barely finished. The rest of his experiences were resorted to him jerking off in the other room with whoever he was with in the other room doing the same.

You sat down on his bed, moving over to give him room. “Let me show you that show finally! Log into your Netflix.” You laughed, giving him the remote.

Roman was happy to even be here with you. You were nothing like anyone he had ever met. You were normal. Not in a bad way. Just in the sense of you weren’t constantly craving some greedy need. You just wanted to do whatever came up. You weren’t fixated on luxuries. You weren’t around Roman for anything other than someone that made you smile and laugh. This was the first sense of normalcy Roman had ever felt.

This was what a normal relationship felt like.

Roman had never been more satisfied.

Notes: a lot happened in this chapter. this also was the most i’ve ever written. 5.6k words is crazy i’m so happy.

Chapter 12

#succession #succession hbo #hbo succession #roman roy #roman roy fanfic #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #succession fanfic #kendall roy #shiv roy #siobhan roy #connor roy #logan roy #tom wambsgans #greg hirsch

162 notes · View notes

zantetsukenedd · 1 year

Text

the forehead kiss scene is so obviously homoerotic but i feel like the tomgregs don’t talk enough the “wrestle me to the ground” scene. because there is NO explanation for that.

like yes, we know that tom is upset with greg because he’ll be leaving for parks and he won’t going to prison. you could read more deeply into that, but set it aside for a moment. tldr; our pathetic meow meow, tom wambs, has offered to go to prison for logan and he’s regretting it.

i believe the nero/sporus comparison is homoerotic enough on its own –– but one could play devil’s advocate and say that tom only wants companionship from greg because shiv has been offering him little to none. and because of the prison ordeal, he’s in desperate need of both companionship + emotional support. it’s been established that he projects the failures of his marriage onto greg, so –– fair enough? push your wife down the stairs, castrate your assistant. cool.

+ in a deeper sense, the nero/sporus metaphor is seemingly tied to tom’s feelings of emasculation. it’s no surprise that tom says this hours after he challenges shiv’s dominance in their relationship and loses ... miserably.

correct me if i’m wrong, but sexual practices in ancient rome were based on activity and passivity –– aka, masculine dominance and feminine submissiveness. (citing my classics prof for this, lmao.) from what i’ve gleaned, this dichotomy is what defined social views on homosexuality in ancient rome.

it would make sense for tom to read this story of an ancient roman emperor and be reminded of his desire to be more dominant/masculine in his relationships.

summarily, if he can’t be dominant in his relationship with shiv, he can be dominant in his relationship with greg. it’s an unromantic perspective, but ... oh well. succ isn’t too romantic to begin with. it would also be a way for tom to (unhealthily) reconcile with his romantic feelings toward greg. ie., sure, i’m attracted to him, but that doesn’t make me any less masculine. just think of nero the emperor!

it seems to me that tom wants to be seen as a masculine man. (as a matter of fact, he makes mention of his masculinity in the scene above.) which is understandable, given that his relationship with siobhan is depicted as very unequal. so yeah –– it could be written off as standard feelings of emasculation coming from a man, but honestly?

i’d argue that due to a lifetime of repression, internalized homophobia & some preconceived notions, tom believes that his homosexual desires make him less masculine. i believe it stems from his repressed homosexuality. like –– why else would he be so desperate to appear masculine, despite ... not being very masculine by nature.

(he may have even sought out this story in particular so that he could feel better about having these romantic desires for a man to begin with ...)

so that explains the nero/sporus reference.

but when tom says “wrestle me to the ground”, what is he asking for? as in, that is a genuine question. maybe i’m just tomgreg-pilled, but it really does seem like:

tom is just so desperate to know greg’s touch that he’s willing to wrestle him, like the nude men who fought in bygone stadiums. (something which conveniently relates to that book about the romans that tom mentions.)

he’ll never know his touch as a lover, tom tells himself –– so he’ll have to settle for this. after all, he’s being sent to prison and greg is all set for his new career in parks, where he’ll no doubt forget all about him. it’s now or never.

it’s an act of desperation.

and greg says no, understandably –– but tom persists. he’s worked himself up, fists raised, pushing greg up against a wall. a force of anger and repression. as usual, he’s just too much. he’s self-destructing. at last, greg stands up for himself tells tom to stop, which he does. it’s then the humiliation sets in. he’s humiliated himself.

and THIS –– this is when it comes full circle.

tom feels stupid and embarrassed, so he tries to make greg feel doubly stupid and embarrassed by mocking him. it’s a see-through attempt at saving face. downright childish.

he then looks spurned and troubled for a few moments before he shouts, “neither do i, greg! it was a JOKE, you idiot!” when it ... obviously wasn’t.

he’s the picture of someone who’s been rejected and can’t seem to take it: hurt and defensive.

it’s strange, no? tom bullies greg all the damn time and he’s never once thought to make excuses about it. he doesn’t feel an ounce of shame when he calls greg a coke whore in front of kendall. but this time –– this time he feels embarrassed.

and i immediately think back to their first conversation. the infamous “would you kiss me? if i asked you to?” because ... tom said that was a joke, too. maybe it wasn’t.

ALL I’M SAYING IS THAT I LOVE THIS SCENE. matthew and nicholas are goddamn phenomenal and i really hope season 4 brings us some closure in regards to the psychosexual power struggle that is tomgreg. ahhhh!

#tomgreg #analysis #aka me posting my thoughts bc where the hell else am i gonna put them #paranoid that i’m reading this scene VERY WRONG but oh well #personal interpretations x

302 notes · View notes

miistymemorii · 11 months

Text

Between the Two of Us

pairing: shiv roy x fem!reader

rating: 18+ (MNDI!!!)

warnings: smut, slight angst, infidelity (sorry tommy boy)

A/N: based off a lovely little ask i received about a secret rendezvous with miss shiv. as always, thank you for reading, please enjoy

If there was one thing you hated most in the world, it was the company party shitshows you were forced to go to. You had been Roman Roy’s assistant for a little over a year, a total of 15 elitist parties you’ve attended by his side, every one of them more draining than the last.

The parties were always the same. You and Roman entered together, Roman immediately gets a drink, then he follows you around as you force him to shmooze with the shitty elite partygoers. After the alcohol properly kicked in for Roman, he wandered off to bother Gerri or follow his dad around like a kicked puppy, which left you bored and, in the corner, nursing a drink until Roman came stumbling at your feet hours later, signaling the end of the night.

There was something in the air, this night, and you felt a shift right as you entered the building.

Roman had mentioned that “the high cuntress” would be there tonight, and your eyes fell on Shiv from across the room almost immediately. She looked at Roman, her nose wrinkling a little, but when she saw you, a small smirk formed at the corners of her mouth. Your cheeks instantly felt hot, and you rushed over to the bar, deciding liquid courage was the way to go.

There was one benefit to going to these parties, and that was the hour or so you and Shiv snuck off together.

It was wrong and both of you knew it, but it had been innocent so far. The first time it had happened, you had just been hired by Roman, and you ran into Shiv in the bathroom. You had accidentally bumped into Logan, who had whispered some seething words to you, causing you to rush to the bathroom. You were overwhelmed, sure, but you refused to cry. You knew that the workplace was toxic when you went in, but you owed it to yourself to keep your head high. Still, you allowed yourself to mope a little, which Shiv had commented on when she walked in on you fixing your makeup.

The two of you got to talking and you ended up spending 45 minutes in the bathroom chatting before her assistant came looking for her. It happened again the second time, and at the third party, Shiv came up to you directly, saying she needed to talk to you about some business. The two of you ended up just wandering around outside the venue, sharing a cigarette and giggling over the stupidity of the entire event. It kept happening, and it was always nothing more than two women stealing away in the night, but the last time the two of you were together, something different had happened.

Shiv wasn’t a touchy person, but there had been the occasional brushing of hands, her hand on the small of your back as she guided you out of the party, but last time... last time she had kissed you.

Shiv had been ranting to you that night, going on and on about some fight her and Tom had before leaving for the party. You had been a good listener, and after she was done spouting out her problems, you had assured her that how she felt was valid, how she should get mad, how she did deserve better. It was a huge cliche, the way she had stared at you before kissing you softly on the lips. You had been the sensible one, pulling away first, but you had shamelessly let her linger. The two of you quietly agreed that it was a mistake, returning to the party through separate doors as to not raise suspicion, but your mind had only been on her since that night. You felt naughty, but there was a small part of you that really didn’t fucking care.

The night continued in as it usually did, and not even five minutes after Roman had left you at the bar, Shiv was sidling up next to you.

“Hey look, it’s my favorite lackey.” She teased. Her eyes were dark as she stared into your soul from over the rim of her glass.

You rolled your eyes, deciding it was best to keep some composure. “I’m not your lackey, technically, so I can’t be your favorite.”

“Pssht, someone is grumpy tonight. Tomato, tomato, anyways...” Her hand reached out and gently laid on top of yours, her fingers tracing invisible lines on your skin. You shivered, your body betraying you. “Anyways, wanna, you know...” she tilted her head towards the door.

You took a sip of your drink before saying as nonchalantly as you could, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Shiv froze, her jaw grinding as she stewed over your words. “I think that this party is sucking the life out of both of us and you’re just as eager as I am to get out of here. Am I wrong?” You sighed and shook your head, which made Shiv grin. “Perfect. There’s a stairwell to the rooftop, meet me up there in a few minutes.”

She left you no time to respond, sauntering off with her glass in her hand. You scanned the room and saw Tom doubled over in laughter with Greg, tucked away in a corner of the room. Tom’s hand brushed his neck and you almost gasped out loud when you saw his wedding ring wasn’t on his hand. Everyone knew Tom and Shiv were doomed, but the entire time you had known him, he always had his wedding band on. You downed the rest of your drink and headed towards the direction Shiv had left in.

She was waiting you at the end of the hall, a bottle of wine in her hand. You raised an eyebrow at her, to which she explained that she had shmoozed it off the bartender. You trailed behind her as she quickly led you to the stairwell, the two of you walking up in silence before she held open a door, leading to the roof. The air was chilly and crisp but provided a refreshing reprieve from the stuffy room of partygoers. Shiv wasted no time in opening the bottle of wine, raising it to her lips and taking a hearty swig. She held it out for you, the tension hanging between the two of you increasing as she watched you take a drink from the bottle.

“So... do you remember that time when I kissed you?”

You couldn’t help but choke on some of the wine, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand; your whole body felt like it was on fire. “Do I remember that? Vaguely, yeah.” You replied quietly, your tone a little harsh.

Shiv hummed at your attitude, taking a step towards you. She crossed her arms, and you felt like you were about to be lectured. “Yeah, well, I’ve been thinking, and, well-” Shiv let out an annoyed sigh, “I’m sure you’ve seen, or heard, that Tom and I’s marriage is basically a joke at this point. I mean, there’s nothing there, I think, like really and purely nothing. So...” She reached over and took the bottle from your hands, “So I think that now is a good tie to talk about us.”

You tried to be as delicate as you could. “Shiv... there is no us.”

Shiv rolled her eyes. “I mean, the us that could be, like what if you and I had a little... something-something.”

You were at a loss for words. It was wrong, so very wrong, but God... Shiv was irresistible. The crush you had on her was too big to ignore... almost. “Shiv, c’mon, be reasonable. You’re asking me to help you cheat on Tom? That’s-”

“I’m not asking you to help me do anything. I’m just asking if you want to fuck me, and I’m guessing the answer is yes.”

“I mean...” You sighed, shaking your head. “Even if I did have feelings for you, Shiv, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Shiv had moved so close to you, she could’ve easily leaned in and kissed you. A dirty little part of you prayed that she would. “Oh, so you don’t have, like, any feelings for me, hmm? Because I...” Her voice lowered dangerously, “I know what kind of feelings I have for you.”

“You have feelings for me?”

Shiv snorted humorlessly. “Horny feelings, sure, but feelings all the same. Besides, Tom and I... we’ve got this... agreement. He’s allowed to fuck who he wants and I, well, I’m not going to let someone tell me who I can’t be with.” You felt dumb as you just stared at her, then Shiv said, “Jesus, are you going to make me beg? Because if you want me on my knees, all you have to do is ask.”

You ripped the bottle from her hands, taking one last drink. “This is so...fucked.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

You set the bottle down at your feet. Shiv was already taking off her jacket, tossing it on the ground. Her lips were immediately on yours, and you put up no resistance. Her hands were all over you, your hands finding their place tangled in her hair. She guided you to the floor, laying you on your back on top of her jacket. Shiv straddled you, her mouth dipping down to your neck, your moans thankfully lost amongst the natural bustling sound of the city. Your hands reached up to her breasts, but her hands gripped yours and shoved them back against the floor. Your clothes suddenly felt stifling, your legs parting the best they could to allow Shiv access to you. She ground down on your thigh, her breath heavy against your neck. Shiv climbed off you, her hands diving between your thighs and pushing the skirt of your dress up. You sat up on your elbows, the two of you staring each other down like hungry wolves as her fingers hooked under your waistband and pulled your panties off. She smirked, going painfully slow.

You felt pathetic as you softly whined her name, but it didn’t matter because her fingers took their place at the apex of your thighs, circling your clit. You bit your lip and let your head fall back, but Shiv gave your clit a few harsh rubs, drawing your attention back to her. “Hey now, eyes on me.” She whispered, making you smile. She kept working at your clit, switching her paces to bring you closer to the edge just to draw your orgasm away again, but she leaned forward, stabilizing herself with her free hand so that she could kiss you. The kiss wasn’t as harsh or rushed as before, instead it was... normal. Light, the two pairs of lips working in perfect sync, your gasps of pleasure getting lost on her tongue. Her fingers left your clit and you whined, but she brought them up to your mouth, tracing your lips with them. You winked then poked your tongue out, just barely swirling them around her fingertips.

Shiv let out a small chuckle, her fingers delving deeper into your mouth. You swirled them around against your tongue, and when Shiv felt they were wet enough, she took them out, examining them under the moonlight. She hummed in content, then hiked one of your legs up, her fingers gently prodding at your entrance.

You felt like you were a beast on fire, your chest heaving, your heart hammering in your chest so loudly that you thought it would explode. Shiv was watching you as she teased you, her fingers not daring to enter you. You groaned and thrust your hips up towards her, to which she let out a low tsk. Her lips moved, she was muttering something to herself, but before you could ask her to speak up, her fingers were inside you. She started with two but went slow, easing into you. She watched you as she began to gain a steady rhythm, her fingers curling upwards in the most delicious way. You were moaning her name over and over like a mantra, your body grinding down on her fingers as you felt the tension in your stomach coming to its end.

Shiv pinched your thigh with her free hand, bringing your attention back to her. She was smiling, but she rolled her eyes playfully. “C’mon space cadet, did you even hear me?” You shook your head, way too drunk on the feeling of her. “Of course not; that’s cute. I told you to pull the top of that dress down.”

“I don’t know if that’s something I can do-”

“Well try or I’m fucking ripping it, and wouldn’t that be so embarrassing?” You couldn’t help but clench down around her, which made her chuckle. “Oh, I get it, you’re dirty. You want people to know, is that it?”

Your hands were scrambling to adjust the top half of your dress, and you eventually got the sleeves and chest down. Shiv kissed you sweetly on the lips, such a contrast to the harsh movements of her fingers, but you loved it. Her lips spent very little time against yours, instead moving down to your breasts, taking one of your nipples into her mouth. The two of you moved against each other like wild animals, her mouth suckling and biting at your breasts, your legs beginning to shake as you felt yourself completely drowning in her. It was overwhelming, but you could’ve gone for hours if the two of you had time. It felt like the world had felt away when your orgasm finally came, time and space irrelevant. Her teeth sunk into your skin just enough for the pain to mix in with the pleasure, your legs shaking at the sensation.

Your mind was foggy, but Shiv brought you back to reality when she gently took her fingers out of you. She was staring down between your legs, her mouth open slightly in shock. You weakly raised your head to see what she was staring at, and you whimpered at the sight. Her pantleg had a small, but unmissable, wet spot on it, and you became suddenly aware of how wet you were in between your legs.

“Shit, Shiv, I’m so sorry-”

She was laughing. Like, genuinely laughing. You felt embarrassed, but when you saw she wasn’t trying to be cruel, you felt a little better. She gave you a mocking pout, then said, “No, no, it’s hot. Should I go out there and tell them it’s all you or-”

“No!” Shiv raised an eyebrow at you, so you quickly added, “Just... say I spilled some wine on you, or something.”

Shiv took your panties and put them in her back pocket before leaning over you, her nose against yours. “I see. This will be our little secret, then?”

“Is that a problem?” You whispered.

Her nose nuzzled against yours, and she hummed like she was thinking. “No, it’s not. It’s hot, fun, I think.”

The two of you adjusted yourself, goosebumps blossoming across your skin as she gingerly helped you fix your dress, pressing a gentle skin to your cheek. It was a small gesture, but Shiv hesitated a moment, and you knew it was unfamiliar territory for her. Being tender, being genuine, feeling something that was caring and real.

The two of you left the roof, making your way back to the party. Shiv looked the same as she did before, but you knew how wrecked you must’ve looked. She led you to the bathroom, giving you a small discreet nod goodbye.

Thankfully, the bathroom was empty, so you spent a good minute doing some literal and figurative reflecting. You skin was flushed from sex, dark hickies starting to bloom across your skin. Your legs still felt weak, the feeling of emptiness making you ache for Shiv. You looked as fucked out as you felt, but you knew there was no amount of concealer and powder that could hide it. You had no choice but to return to the party with your head up high, praying no-one would notice.

You slipped back into the party, giving the crowd a quick scan, but Shiv was nowhere to be seen. There was a hand clasping on your shoulder, making you jump a little.

Roman poked at your side, giggling. You could smell the booze reeking off him and you rolled your eyes. “C’mon Rome, it’s past your bedtime.”

He groaned loudly, rolling his eyes. “God, it’s past your bedtime!”

You shook your head with a chuckle, taking his arm in yours and steering him towards the door. Roman looked you up and down then gasped dramatically, “Good God, you got railed at a company party?”

“Shut up, Roman.” You seethed quietly.

He laughed loudly but lowered his voice. “You are so going to spill the beans when we get in the car, you dirty little corporate lackey.”

You smiled to yourself, shaking your head. “Sorry Rome, I don’t kiss and tell.”

#shiv roy #shiv roy x reader #shiv roy smut #succession #succession smut #succession fic #x reader #smut #wlw #wlw smut

291 notes · View notes

petersthree · 1 year

Photo

Kendall + Connor’s mom: 1x02 | 1x04 | 3x08 | 4x02 (+ meta under the cut)

Something really interesting to see is that a lot of the references about Connor’s mother don’t come from Connor, but Kendall. We get tidbits of Con’s life here and there, alongside indirect references, but direct references to his mother? Save for him reminiscing with Logan in the RECNY episode and Roman’s comment about her “being sent to the booby hatch”, it’s usually Kendall who brings her to the forefront. It’s usually Kendall reminding people that hey, this was a person who existed, this was Connor’s mother.

And it’s just so. Fitting, somehow, that it’s Kendall who brings her up the most. That it’s him who describes what Con’s mother wanted to do with the ball and calls her patronizing for it, only to turn around and call himself the People’s Fearless Leader. That it’s Kendall “Three years ago you were in the nuthouse” Roy who brings up to Logan that Logan locked Connor’s mother away. That it’s her story that’s mentioned first to Kendall, before Rose and before the waiter, as the first Roy family secret. That it’s Kendall, who has a mental illness and attempted suicide before, who brings up Connor’s mother, who we know had a breakdown and is implied to have died. That it’s Kendall, who wants to be seen and struggles with it so, so much, who remembers that Connor had a mom, that there was someone in this family, that there was a person who needs to be included in this remembrance video.

For a woman we’ve never met, seen, even have a name for, there’s so many parallels there to Kendall and it’s just SO fascinating that we get a lot of these direct references through him.

398 notes · View notes

asksanderssides · 2 months

Note

Can each of you say one thing you all like about the side to the right of you? (Your right that is, as well when standing in your own designated spots)

Roman: Where do I start with Patton? He's kind, he gets my sense of humour, and he's the softest little puffball we've got!

Patton: Aww, Roman, you're so sweet! I know Janus puts up a tough exterior, but I think he cares about us all a lot.

Janus: I absolutely do not. Anyway, Logan sometimes seems to be the only other one with a brain cell around here, and he has good taste in wine.

Logan: Virgil is actually very thoughtful, I very much liked the secret santa gift he gave to me, and I appreciate the amount of effort he put into it.

Virgil: Don't mention it, L. Wait, ew, do I really have to do this? Ok fine, I guess Remus was always good at finding cool horror films for movie nights.

Remus: You know, I do really appreciate Ro-bro sometimes. With him around, nobody can doubt that I'm the coolest Creativity!

Roman: Well, that wasn't remotely nice.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #asksanderssides

27 notes · View notes

prince-rowan-of-the-forest · 4 months

Text

Primroses and Periwinkles

----

It was a normal day when it first started happening.

Roman thought he might’ve been getting sick. It was winter, and though the sides weren’t as easy to infect with diseases like the flu he was pretty sure it was still possible - he remembered Patton being sick a few times, at least.

And then, one day, when he and Virgil had been playfully bickering on the couch - another debate about which Disney movies were better that had him laughing and blushing - the petals started to appear.

----

| Ao3 |

----

Warnings:

TWs for this!!!

Hanahaki disease (blood, coughing up flowers, non graphic descriptions for the most part)

Illness, a character believing they're going to die.

A small amout of mentioned food stuff.

This does have a happy ending! I promise!

Pairings: Prinxiety

Word Count: 2767

Notes:

Five years ago when I started writing fanfiction, I told myself I'd never write a hanahaki fic. Yet here we are.

This is my gift for @candied-peach for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange tumblr! I really hope you enjoy <3

----

It was a normal day when it first started happening.

His throat was sore, and he kept coughing - he must be getting a cold, it’ll be over in a week, he thought as he got on with his duties in the imagination regardless.

For the next few weeks it didn’t get much worse, but it certainly didn’t get better either. Roman gathered that it couldn’t be a cold - they never lasted this long, and besides he had none of the other symptoms. In the end he’d gone to Logan, but he hadn’t been able to figure it out either.

The only other thing he had noticed - that he most definitely hadn’t told Logan - was that it only seemed to get worse around Virgil.

Which was weird, because that’s not how sicknesses were supposed to work, but whenever Virgil said some snarky comment that made Roman laugh he’d feel like something was pressed against his lungs and he’d end up in a coughing fit. Every time Virgil stuck his tongue between his lips while concentrating in a way that made Roman want to lean over and kiss him, every time he made that cute pouty face whenever someone interrupted whatever he was doing - It all made Roman dizzy, and so many times he’d have to run off so that Virgil wouldn’t be concerned when Roman erupted into chest wracking coughs.

He’d got back to his room that night just to stand over the sink coughing - afraid he might throw up with the force of it - only to be left with a sink full of soft, purple petals. They looked like they might’ve come from periwinkle flowers, but they were too scrunched and ruined by his coughing to tell for sure.

Roman stared at the sink full of flower petals for a long time. He felt a tear drip down his cheek as he realised abruptly what this meant.

—

It only got worse from there.

When he tried to avoid Virgil it felt like the flowers were choking him, when he tried to hang out with Virgil more the fear of him finding out about the petals was overwhelming enough that Virgil started to notice. It threw him into such a panic that before long he was coughing up whole flowers, whole bunches of purple primroses and periwinkles he spat into the small bin in his bedroom - the purple petals soaked with his own blood as the flowers had started to take root in his lungs. He knew he didn’t have much time left.

—

“Hanahaki?” Logan asked as Roman sat on a stool in his bedroom, coughing pathetically every few moments, sometimes spitting a loose petal or two into a plastic bag Logan had handed him a few moments in.

“Yeah I-” Roman coughed, “It’s a fictional disease-”

“I know what it is,” Logan chided gently, “The disease that makes you cough up flowers when you’re in love with someone.”

“Unrequited,” Roman added, Logan rubbed his back in a way that was barely comforting as he coughed his way through flower buds and petals - he was close to tears when Logan spoke again.

“Unrequited?”

“It only - it only happens when the person you love doesn’t-” The bag was almost full already, “-doesn’t love you back.”

“So you believe that Virgil does not return your affection?” Logan asked, Roman thought he might vomit, or cry, or probably both.

“I- I never mentioned Virgil-” He choked out past the flower petals laying heavy on his tongue, "Who said anything about Virgil?"

“Purple flowers,” Logan says, deadpan, “And your crush on him is and always has been less than subtle to everyone besides Virgil.”

“Oh,” Roman choked.

“However, Virgil’s obliviousness towards your affections does not mean the feelings are unrequited, nor do the flowers, they just mean that you believe they are.”

“Then- then what do I do?” Roman asked, the first tear escaping his eyes as he coughed up yet more flowers, the broken stems tearing at the back of his throat. In his mind, he already knew the answer.

Logan sighed, “You will not like the solution.”

“...I have to talk to him, don’t I?” Roman asked sadly.

“Unfortunately so.”

Roman hated this so much. Why did he have to be the fantasy one here? Why couldn't it have been Janus with his very clear crush on Logan, or Patton with his slightly strange level of interest in his brother. He sighed.

“Fine, I’ll talk to him later,” Roman said after a long while of being stared at by Logan.

“Talk to him soon, Roman, or this will continue to get worse.”

—-

Roman really should have listened to Logan.

In actuality, he felt that he should have listened to Logan quite a lot, but this time he really regretted not taking his advice, because he had put off talking to Virgil and his situation had certainly gotten worse.

By now, just a week later, Roman found himself without much choice but to hole up in his room and hope no-one came looking for him.

Nothing seemed to help, thinking about Virgil made it worse, not thinking about Virgil also seemed to make it worse. There was no relief from the onslaught of flowers in his lungs - his room was practically covered in the petals now, he didn’t have the energy to clean them up anymore.

It was pathetic, Roman thought as he laid on his bed, barely able to force down water - let alone food. He could barely move, he was so tired, his lungs perpetually hurt - he hadn’t been able to move without spikes of pain consuming his chest in weeks and weeks. Even if he wanted to go and find Virgil now - he needed to tell him, needed to make this pain stop - he couldn’t. He could hardly move from his bed with the pain and the exhaustion quickly catching up to him.

He knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

—-

“Has anyone seen Roman?” Virgil asked a day later at dinner, looking around at the other two sides present. Patton shrugged when Virgil’s eyes fell on him.

“I haven’t seen him for a few days, kiddo, I’d assumed he was off on one of his adventures again…”

“Other than him running away from me whenever I see him I haven’t seen him for weeks…” Virgil said, frowning, “I haven’t seen him either - I’m worried- well, obviously, but….”

“He’s not usually gone on adventures for this long,” Logan points out, “Perhaps we should check on him.”

“You think he might just be in his room?” Patton asked, tilting his head, “Avoiding us?”

Logan sighed, “It would be unwise to rule it out as a possibility, though if he is hiding in his room, it may be best that Virgil is the one to confront him.”

“Wait what?” Virgil asked, barely managing to not bolt up from his chair in surprise, “Why me?”

“Not only are you best equipped of all of us to handle a situation in which Roman is panicking or scared-” Logan points out, “But the fact that he’s been avoiding you specifically means that if he should be having an issue, it may be something to do with you.”

“And… how exactly would that help, if Virgil went?” Patton asked doubtfully, “Might it not make things worse?”

“I strongly believe that Virgil going would be best for Roman,” Logan reiterated firmly. Something about his tone had the other two pausing.

Patton was first to break the tense silence, “Do you know something we don’t, kiddo?”

“If I knew anything, it would not be my place to share,” Logan said, frowning at the both of them. After a long pause when it seemed neither of them would protest further, Logan turned to Virgil with a softer expression, “I know that the way Roman has been acting towards you recently may be considered rude, however, I would like to request you look past that until you find out why.”

Virgil just stares at him for a long moment and Logan crossed his fingers that Virgil would just take that go. Thankfully, Virgil simply took a deep breath and stood up.

“Okay, fine, if you think this is so important,” He said, turning to leave the room. Patton watched him go in confusion, before looking at Logan with an eyebrow raised, clearly asking what on earth that was about.

“You’ll find out in due time,” Logan sighed, going back to dinner. If this worked out, Roman would be in for a lecture about listening to him in future, considering this time it had almost cost them dearly. If it didn’t… well, Logan didn’t know what he’d do, let alone the others.

—-

Virgil didn’t understand. Since when has Logan been so cryptic about things? Usually he would explain as thoroughly as possible, the difference set Virgil’s teeth on edge. Unfortunately, Logan’s weird behaviour is what led Virgil to believe that something more important really was actually going on here, so he had to go along with it.

Knocking on Roman’s door gave no results, though he could hear something from inside, he wasn’t sure what it was, unable to make out the sound properly.

“Roman?” He called, knocking again, rewarded with a pained groan, “Roman? It’s me, Virgil, um, I know you’ve been avoiding me and you probably don’t want to see me but Logan was being weird and told me to check on you-”

Nothing, and then choking coughs, mixed with a sob. What the hell?

“Roman if you don’t say anything I’m gonna come in, okay?” Virgil called, “I’m worried about you-”

Nothing but the same, so Virgil pressed down on the handle and opened the door.

Oh. he thought, weakly.

Roman laid on his bed, still in costume though said costume was stained down the front with blood and petals that dripped from his chin, shrivelled petals - petals in small puddles of blood - petals, petals, so many petals, and leaves, some whole flowers with thick stems. For a long moment Virgil couldn’t say anything.

Roman looked awful, the fire in his eyes dulled as he looked up at Virgil pitifully, his tan skin was paler, there were bags under his eyes that rivalled Virgil’s own, his usually pristine hair was plastered to his face with sweat, tears were running down his face. Roman looked awful.

“Oh my god…” Virgil said softly, taking a step forward, “What the hell happened to you?”

“You weren’t-” Roman coughed, cutting himself off with chest-heaving coughs that had him spitting out more bloodsoaked flowers, it made it impossible to see what colour they really were, “You weren’t supposed to- to see this.”

“Why the fuck not?” Virgil asked, shutting the door behind him and practically running over, kneeling down beside Roman’s bed - reaching out, before hesitating, “You- you’re suffering princey, why the hell shouldn’t I know? I want to help!”

Roman whined, “Because- because you- you don’t-” He was cut off by yet more painful coughing, yet more flowers, Virgil felt tears prick in his eyes at the mere sight of Roman in so much pain, Roman who had gone out of his way so often to accommodate for Virgil after he’d joined the group, Roman who always tried to hard, Roman who was sweet and kind and sensitive no matter what fronts he tried to put up.. Virgil couldn’t stand to see him in so much pain.

“I don't.. what? Princey?” Virgil said, still a little panicked. He gently cupped Roman’s cheek with his hand and Roman leant into it immediately, closing his eyes but still looking hurt and upset. Virgil tried to wipe away some of the blood, but Roman just coughed weakly and more blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth, “Are- are you dying?” he didn’t want to ask.

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Roman mumbled, before turning and spitting more petals onto the ever growing pile nearby, Virgil thought some of them might be purple, but he didn’t know what that meant.

“Can I do anything?” Virgil asked, trying to blink away his own tears - If Roman left… Virgil had no idea what he’d do, “I don’t want you to go.”

“I- I don’t know- Virge,” Roman huffed, wiping his mouth with his already bloodsoaked sleeve, “I can’t force you.”

“Force me… what? To help you? Because you don’t have to force me to do shit,” Virgil says, “I like you, dumbass, that’s what you do when you like people.”

Roman stared at him for a long, sad moment, tears once again dripping down his cheeks, “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Virgil asked, eyes wide and eyebrows raised - here Roman was, lying in a pool of his own blood and flower petals, looking like he was practically on the verge of death and he was apologising?

“I love you,” Roman said, abruptly, sending Virgil rearing back, eyes somehow wider and face growing hot to the tips of his ears, “I- I’m sorry - I know you don’t love me and- and I can’t make you- and it’s unfair for you to- to see - this - when you can’t do anything - and it’s just- well - it’s my own fault, really, you don’t need to feel guilty…”

Virgil stood up, and with the look in his eyes Virgil knew that Roman expected with every fibre of his being for Virgil to turn around and leave him there. Instead he sat down on the bed and gently coaxed Roman to sit up through winces and the occasional coughs. He really didn't think Virgil loved him back? After everything - hell, Virgil thought he'd been pretty obvious about his crush on the Prince.

“Roman- I-” Virgil started, still blushing, before just shaking his head, “fuck, if you weren’t covered in blood right now I’d kiss you.”

“You don’t - you don’t have to pretend,” Roman said, gently pushing his hands away as he coughed up what - looking back - must have been the last of the flowers, Virgil put his hands back just as quickly, making Roman look up at him with wide eyes - almost hopeful.

“I’m not pretending, dumbass - of course I love you, how the hell could I not? You’re you! Why didn’t you just- say so?” he squished Roman’s cheeks and briefly noted that colour seemed to slowly be returning to them, Roman coughed, but this time no petals came out.

“I was… scared,” Roman said, ducking his head as far as Virgil’s hands would allow, “That you wouldn’t love me back - that you would but it wouldn’t fix all of this - I guess I was just-”

“Anxious?” Virgil chuckled, making Roman blush and nod, “...me too.”

Roman stayed silent, though a weak smile was playing on his lips now and he leant into Virgil’s hands on his face. It was obvious he was weak, Virgil had no idea how close he’d cut it to saving Roman, but it was clear he was already starting to do much better. Virgil didn’t like to believe in fairytales, but love really did seem to be quite powerful.

He’d have to thank Logan later.

But for now…

“Come on, let's get you cleaned up,” Virgil said, gently helping Roman up, sure it was horribly uncomfortable to be covered in your own blood, “...when did you last eat?”

“I don’t… Know…” Roman said, looking embarrassed.

“Okay - how about you get changed and have a shower, I’ll grab you dinner and we can meet back in my room and um- we can just…”

“Cuddle?”

“Yeah, that.”

“I’d love to,” Roman said with a soft smile, “And I’ll take that kiss later, too.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Virgil teased, though he still kissed Roman’s forehead as he pulled away.

—

“How did it go?” Logan asked when Virgil arrived back downstairs. Virgil sighed.

“Well, thanks to you,” Virgil said, mostly begrudgingly as he heated up Roman’s portion of their dinner, “He’s okay now, we’re uh-” He blushed, “Gonna cuddle, once I get him to eat something.”

“Gross,” Logan said, though he was smiling fondly as he waved Virgil off.

No-one saw either of them until dinner the next day.

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

#sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #prinxiety #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #rowan writes #sandersidesgiftexchange

43 notes · View notes