#this is what kendall thinks she looks like

[homielander]

shiv's motivations for voting to pass the gojo deal are so layered and i don't think they should be dismissed in favour of any one interpretation. shiv desperately grabbed on to a lifeline for her relationship with tom. shiv was the deciding vote and she couldn't bear to hold the crown only for a moment just to place it atop her brother's head. shiv knew she would have more influence as wife of CEO rather than sister of CEO. shiv absolutely hated seeing kendall crystallize into logan before her eyes, especially when he made roman bleed ("and if we did kill him we get to go to bed") -- succession has always been about siblings so of course she tried to free her brothers before her child. shiv still thinks she can raise her child with all the material benefits of being the daughter of waystar CEO while doing better by her, whatever that means. and all of those things are true

#shiv roy #succession #succession spoilers #ok i'm sleeping #wait i know i just assumed tomshiv baby is a girl but like. i'm right #also i have seen many people say shiv did it purely out of spite and i will say #i don't think they would have had dialogue about shiv saying she's tired and they should all rest #or panned to shiv looking at roman's face fresh with blood #or shown shiv tearing up over her conversation with tom at the beginning of the episode #or had her say 'i cannot stomach you' which has pretty obvious connotations even in the context of succ #or had shiv make up her mind precisely when kendall said the andrew dodds confession was a lie #if her motives weren't meant to be read as ambiguous. they would not have put those things in there without reason #shiv leaving the room may have been impulsive spite but what came after was more complicated #it's also not even wholly altruistic it's just cold admittance that they don't have It. she thinks she does #and i'm not sure why the sentiment that they can't take it but she can surprises anyone #she's literally always seen herself as the exception

[clowndensation]

there’s a question to be asked i think about to what extent “getting out” can be conflated with “being saved” in this show, and what freedom actually means to any of these characters.

like you can argue that shiv saved ken by voting against him on gojo, but what if your intent behind saving someone is to inflict a worse punishment than if you’d just left them trapped? can a child weaned on poison survive on milk, or are you just sentencing them to a death by inches, starved of the only thing they know? and if you save someone specifically because you know that being saved is the worst thing that can happen to them, is that kindness or cruelty? at what point does a good thing become a malicious act?

and you can say that roman is finally free, but what exactly is he free from? the company? his father? does unlocking a cage mean saving a dog, or are you allowing him out on the street knowing there’s a kill shelter nearby? if the driving anxiety behind roman is that he’s an idiot and a failure—that he’ll never amount to anything, and trying will only lead to pain—and he’s finally cut loose once all of those anxieties have crystallized into cold hard fact in his mind, what has he actually escaped from? if the cage is in your mind, is it even possible for somebody else to unlock it?

the fundamental truth of a tragedy is that even being saved can be a death sentence, if the characters are incapable of escaping the thing doing them the most harm (themselves and their childhoods)

#'what about shiv' if i think about shiv i'm going to kill myself. she needs her own post. there's too much there to get into. #anyways seeing a tremendous amount of At Least Roman Is Free <3 tags that have me going. right. for sure. free from what? #because it's certainly not the intense amount of self disgust that has driven him in circles this entire time. #i fear he may feel the weight of alienation on his soul for the rest of his life. and he won't even try to alleviate it anymore. #and ALSO the idea that shiv went out of her way to save kendall as an act of like. altruism. like it was a sacrifice on her part #which i feel is a very toothless perspective on shiv and the psychological torment that's been weighing on her essentially since birth #like her choice in regards to gojo is one of the meatiest most harrowing bits of character work i've ever seen #and while of course there was love inside that action (because nothing these characters do is entirely divorced from love) #i don't think it was necessarily a kind or forgiving or sacrificial love #like this was an intense vitriolic snapping from a dog that has been kicked by her dad all her life. #and who absolutely refuses to accept that from her brother (because that would mean acknowledging that kendall takes the mantle of Dad- #and that she's subservient to him. which is the one thing she absolutely will never do #because it's a level of degradation that's finally a step too far) #anyways. um. insane season that i still can't look at directly or i'll perish on the spot. #succession

[pynkhues]

So I started watching Succession somewhere between s2 n s3 and till yesterday, I was under the impression Rava Roy(?) is supposed to be of Indian descent (though why someone would name her after food idk) but then I saw some bts of s4 with the actress and I'm sure she's white or not idk 😂 Point is, can you tell if the kids are supposed to be adopted? (That's what was suggested in an article) like I'm so confused??? Are they biracial? Is her ethnicity ambiguous? I feel like maybe you might have the answer for me 😅

It's never explicitly stated, anon, but I'm pretty sure Rava is supposed to be Jewish.

Natalie Gold, the actress who plays her, is Jewish herself, and the name Rava actually has Hebrew origins dating back to around the year 300CE. Interestingly enough, it's actually traditionally a boy's name in Hebrew meaning a father, which feels pretty deliberate given the nature of the show. I think too that her being Jewish makes sense given the tension between her and Logan, and Kendall's hyper-sensitivity to Logan's anti-semitism, most notably in 3.04 which happened pretty quickly timeline-wise after Kendall retreated to (and took over) Rava's apartment when he didn't have anywhere else to go.

In that sense, I do think we're supposed to understand that Sophie is adopted, yes. I've talked about it on here before, but I tend to think that Iverson is biological, and it's that, plus him being a boy and white, that causes Logan to simultaneously dote on, weaponise and abuse Iverson more directly and visibly on screen than he does Sophie. As far as Logan's concerned, Iverson is the only heir beyond his children, and it's pretty clear that he's been found wanting. What that means for Sophie who is, of course, just as much Kendall and Rava's child, is open to speculation, but I think the show is deliberate in the way it focuses on Iverson and forces Sophie aside.

#i do tend to think kendall and rava didn't conceive as quickly as they anticipated which is probably why they adopted #my personal headcanon is actually similar to what a coworker of mine irl went through #which was that she had trouble conceiving and as soon as she and her husband started the adoption process they got pregnant #and so they had both and their kids have basically been raised as twins #and call themselves twins even though they're not #(they're like 16 now and they're v cute kiddos) #but yes #also interesting to me that rava is a traditionally masculine name while kendall is gender neutral leaning slightly more feminine #especially when paired with connor roman and shiv which are all pretty masculine or brutalist sounding names #it's fascinating! #look at me feeling my way back into succession meta haha #rava roy #kendall roy #sophie roy #iverson roy #hbo succession #succession asks #welcome to my ama

[ardentperfidy]

i'm going to develop a permanent tic if i have to see one more take on last night's succession episode blaming kendall's lack of morals and hurt feelings over shiv's betrayal for the rise of fascism as the way that kendall serves as a stand in for the moral vacuum at the heart of capitalism flies over their heads with a gentle whistling sound

#succession #succession spoilers #like i'm genuinely sorry #that apparently so many people missed so many layers of last night's episode?? #maybe it's because the cnn trump town hall has had me thinking about this a lot #but they made this point on pod save america #that cnn is a company and its goal is to make money and it is beholden to shareholders for that singular goal #like blame milton friedman and jack welch #but the point is that we cannot rely on media COMPANIES operating within the logic of capitalism to save us from fascism #the problem isn't that kendall didn't have the courage to stand up to mencken it's that he had the power to have that choice at all #and kendall was genuinely looking to shiv for advice because he saw her opposition to mencken as genuine #he wanted her to reassure him that he was a good person and that had value to him #he was at least thinking about the moral value of what he was doing #and then it's not that shiv betrayed him #it was that she was playing the game all along #she lost her credibility as a moral voice to him #and revealed rightly or not that it was all about the company and the game #and so kendall went right back to seeing it as a game and not a moral quandary #and he played the game of capitalism #anyway #kendall roy my beloved

[nativehueofresolution]

because i’m smart and all knowing, i’m aware the roy siblings are all bisexual. so i found your post about their implied queerness incredibly interesting and i hate how a lot of people sort of ignore roman’s clear love for gerri and his tension with the men on the show, and the same thing for shiv and kendall having moments like shiv really wanting to hook up with that girl. do you think them internalizing their fathers homophobia strained their relationship with their father even more or is it something they all tried to bury or ignore for him and it made them wanting his approval worse?

both, probably? i don't really think those two things contradict one another. trying to hiding parts of yourself to get your father's approval will create strain and resentment in the relationship.

i think the three of them also run through hot and cold cycles with their dad in general--running around chasing scraps of his affection, then realizing they'll never get it and so striking out to be independent, purposefully doing things to anger him, only to lured back in by some dangled promise. so i can see how that could potentially play out in a similar way with their sexuality; kendall being freer with stewy at harvard or with nate in shanghai where he feels like his own man, and then behaving in a more repressed way when he's around his father making insinuations and is treating his word as law.

roman never goes as far as kendall or shiv - he can't cut off their dad when they do the hundred or follow through on the vote of no confidence, so i think he's probably less likely to have explored that side of himself as much. like, i think kendall has had relationships with other men (though he'd use a different word, i'm sure), but i think roman has had encounters with other men. i don't think he's even let himself get vulnerable enough for full on feelings to form. it's also unclear if he's even physically capable of having sex, or on what level he experiences attraction (i do read him as being on the ace spectrum, though i think others also have valid readings), so i think that's also been a factor in how involved he got with others. for roman, it's not just that he has to make sure he doesn't show interest in men, he has to pretend he's actively having sex with women for his image - whereas kendall is having sex with women, just not exclusively, so they have to self-censor in different ways around logan.

#sorry for the lack of shiv thoughts; i didn't really pick up on queer subtext with her when i watched. #but i've seen some moments others have referenced and will be looking to see what i get on a rewatch #but i generally imagine she'd have a very hard time because she has a lot of hang ups about other women bc of all the internalized misogyny #though that said i do think that potentially logan might be a bit more lax with her in some ways. still incredibly homophobic obviously. #but like if he heard about her being with another woman in college i think he'd might just consider that 'experimentation' #in a way he would not with roman or kendall #fall back on the bi woman is just doing it for attention stereotype #kaitlin speaks #succession #ask replies #thanks for the question! i'm glad you found the post interesting

[wherewolf]

the responses i’ve seen to shiv’s ending seem very quick to write her off as just another sad victim of the cycle, which isn’t without truth BUT!!! that is not even remotely the summation of shiv’s story.

i don’t think she votes yes to “save kendall” or to try to finally set her brothers free. and i don’t think her main concern was that ken was becoming their dad. she absolutely noticed and didn’t love it, but that was not her motivation in betraying him. she was thinking about herself.

it’s tempting to make a martyr out of her as she is the only female child and we see her suffer the onslaught of misogyny that comes with that. but to make her into a saintlike figure who got beat takes away the power and intelligence behind her decision.

at this point she’s stuck between two non ideal choices, but she recognizes that they have accidentally made her the single most important player in the game. because while she can’t have the outcome she’d prefer, she has the power to decide the fates of everyone else. the written off lone woman now holds in her hands the fate of every man in her life.

so she thinks about the long term benefits of both options and realizes that one side leaves her completely without any leverage.

her brothers have proven to her multiple times in the last few days alone that they will cut her out and walk all over her the first chance they get. siding with them leaves her nothing to bargain with. she would just have to hope that ken would actually take care of her. and that level of vulnerability is not only unacceptable to her, it’s stupid. and shiv fuckin roy is not stupid.

so she thinks about the other side and about what she actually wants for her life. and against her better judgment, it’s becomes unfortunately clear that she wants tom. the way she wants him is not altogether loving or even good but it is necessary to her. she sees relationships as having winners and losers and she chose this man specifically so that she could be confident in her ability to win. except now he’s grown some balls and made himself unavailable to her.

she may not like the way her husband is evolving but she already placed her bets on him, so she’s sure as hell not losing to him now. there’s also a part of her that feels intrigued by this new man she’s married to. it’s interesting to have a sparring partner in him instead of having to looking for excitement outside of their marriage.

so for maybe the first time ever, she processes what tom has said to her and thinks about what he actually wants.

he needs her to prove that she cares. he needs to know that she is capable of sacrifice. if she can’t find it within herself to do this for him, then she will lose him, and by extension, she will lose.

siding with tom gives her the opportunity to once and for all make a grand-stand gesture of love, but more importantly, it creates leverage for her. never again will he be able to hold the moral high ground over her head. never again can he say she doesn’t love him. never again can he call her selfish or uncaring. above all, he can never betray her again, because she just removed all of his moral justification for turning on her. he doesn’t realize it yet, but she’s just taken back all the power in their relationship. just in a more subtle way than she’s used to operating.

and just like that, she has the ceo of a multi billion dollar company in her pocket, while situating herself as the only descendant of logan roy to still be playing the game, having removed her brothers from the equation permanently. she may still be far from the top but she’s creating a path for herself to climb.

so yes, she’ll let tom play king for a day, and she’ll have his baby and say “congratulations,” and play the gracious wife, but tomorrow is a new day with lots of room to maneuver. and when her husband puts out his hand, she’ll place her own on top. but she won’t grasp it because she doesn’t need to.

#🐺 #shivy’s gonna be just fine #okay this ended up being a very long post but #i feel like someone needed to point out her wins #also i’m fully aware that remaining in the toxic world of the family business is not a win rly but #i think her ending is being interpreted as powerlessness #which it is NOT #she chose her spot. she’s calling shots #she may not have won today but she sure as hell didn’t lose #let’s not work so hard to sanctify her that we remove everything about her that makes her such a brilliant character #succession #shiv roy #siobhan roy #scn #tv

[ferrstappen]

Can I request petty jealous charles? He’s just quietly stewing in his anguish. I think it’s be funny if someone that he looks up to, like a musician or something, was flirting with his gf and this really upsets him. And he acts petty for a few days

a/n: sorry for the delay babeeee :( but here it issss. also this features Bad bunny bc I saw the pics of him arriving in Monaco and idk got the inspo. also we're going to pretend the last music challenge takes place after Monaco.

titi we don't care l Charles Leclerc

All eyes were on Monaco, and with good reason.

Engines roaring, cameras flashing, boat traffic (if that's a thing), Hollywood making their way from Cannes to the Principality, spotting old money meters away, most of them trying to get a word with Charles.

It was fine in the beginning, this wasn't the first Monaco GP you attended, but after the first free practice ended and Charles was grabbed from right to left, the Ferrari hospitality grabbing most of the attention of wealthy people, whispering how F1 was less exclusive by the day, too popularized, lousy celebrities getting an invite and they’d probably be present for Indy 500 and Le Mans. Shameful.

The same people were examining you, eyeing the “simple” Trina Turk dress and Bimba & Lola bag, gifted by Isa on your birthday, hanging from your arm, all before Charles PR manager approached to tell you he, the home hero, wouldn't be available until practices were over, too many press and meetings in between.

Then, a man with a glass of wine sat down next to you, telling you it was fucked up they wouldn't let the drivers prepare for what they were supposed to do, which was driving. Esta bien cabrón, those were his exact words.

He introduced himself as Benito, of course you knew him as Bad Bunny, his songs being everywhere and wasn't he dating Kendall Jenner?

He kept you entertained, bad mouthing the snotty people surrounding, stopping the conversation to greet people who approached him. Isa joined soon after, also shaking her head at the fact Carlos and Charles would have to spend almost the entire day worrying about media instead of resting and discussing strategies with the team for Sunday.

Conversation was easy, barely noticing the hospitality getting a bit more crowded, louder. It was the WhatsApp group with your girlfriends that got your attention, attaching pictures and asking what was going on between you and Bad Bunny. What?

Of course, Twitter was full of you laughing at something he said or before he pointed something funny or imitated a rich person making conversation on how quiet luxury was a trend now and how it wasn't fair for them, fucking Succession.

Suddenly, someone grabbed your waist from behind, making you jump because the only person allowed to grab you like that was supposed to be around somewhere, being interviewed or filming content, but you were wrong, a big grin appearing at the sight of Charles, full white and red, overall hanging on his waist and white Ferrari cap, hair fluffy from the heat and running his fingers through it.

"Bebé, I thought you'd be busy all the day," You kissed his lips, subtly squeezing his waist through the suit.

Yes, he was supposed to be busy until the day was over and you could head back home, but in-between interviews Charles checked his phone to the dismay of every PR worker in Ferrari, but his Twitter was filled with mentions of pictures. First they were pictures of you alone in the hospitality, Charles smiled knowing you were probably bored but stayed so he wouldn't be alone, but...

user1: Not Bad Bunny shooting his shot at Leclerc's girl 💀

user2: BENITO GET AWAY she's ms leclerc!!!11!

user3: damn, Charles Leclerc getting screwed by Ferrari and his girlfriend

user4: (y/n)'s probably bored af, Isa got to Monaco a couple of minutes ago and she's talking with Benito, big deal leave her alone she's there for Charles.

A strange feeling brewed in his stomach, he instantly knew he was jealous. Did he have a good reason? No, he trusted you and the relationship with his life, but he was obviously and painfully aware people wanted you; your good nature, gorgeous features, bright smile, perfectly shaped boobs... yes, it didn't sound fair when he left a trails of broken hearts and loving eyes everywhere he went, people being interested in F1 just because of his looks, but that was purely platonic, they didn't dare to make a move, but your case was different, he had seen with his own eyes how men tried to make their move right in front of him, he even made sure you always wore the gold necklace with a charm engraved with CL16 was visible.

Carlos, being part of the drivers' gossip network, eyed Charles' screen, whistling in a worried manner, telling him to be careful or he'd be listening to Bad Bunny songs about (y/n) on the radio.

"You know, there's pictures of Isa as well, look," Charles pointed out, annoyed by the teasing, but Carlos playfully dismissed him. "Hey, sorry but I have to get to the hospitality, I'm very overwhelmed and I need to see my girlfriend," Charles half lied; he wanted to see you, but just to let the second most streamed artist on Spotify know you were very loved and appreciated, and completely off limits.

Which takes him to the Ferrari hospitality.

"They gave us a couple of minutes before it's time for the last meeting," Charles tensed when noticing people were staring at him. "Why don't you wait at our lounge, bebé? It’s less crowded, Isa is there, Lorenzo and mum should be getting there soon,” he said in a hushed tone, but loud enough for the other man to hear. You nodded, getting up and collecting the small Bimba & Lola bag with some of the multiple passes and everything hanging from it.

"Oh, bebé, sorry. This is Benito, he was keeping me entertained," It was a bizarre situation, honestly, presenting a world-known singer to your boyfriend like he was a friend.

Charles squeezed your waist a bit tighter, shaking hands with the native from Puerto Rico. They exchanged a couple of words before someone approached the singer, making it easier for you to leave.

Charles was holding your hand a bit tighter than usual, maybe he was being protecting knowing people were watching every move. you asked him how the car felt, but he didn't give a real answer, just making a sound of approval.

That attitude carried on during the entire weekend, you thought it was the pressure of being home, past mistakes and bad luck haunting him. it ended when he crossed the finish line in first place, kissing you with tears on his eyes, relishing on being the home hero.

But two days later, he still had moments where he held his head a little taller, short answers and pretending he didn't hear you.

Charles knew he was being ridiculous, his fists tightening when some radio played a Bad Bunny song, even when one of them was voluntarily added by himself on a playlist, he had to take a deep breath. Irrational and disgusting behavior if you ask Charles, but he couldn't stop it. Not even when he saw you trying to hide the purple marks appearing on your hips.

He noticed your side of the bed dipped and light turned off, his back facing you as he pretended to be asleep, ignoring your soft chuckles. he didn't even flinch when your arms wrapped around his waist, placing your leg over his and loudly kissing his cheek.

"You are so cute when you're jealous," you told him, leaving another loud kiss, this time on his back.

"I'm not jealous!" He lied with a high-pitched voice, still not facing you.

"I know you are, but it's okay, it comes with having a girlfriend as incredible as me, you know?" This time Charles laughed, turning around and now placing his arms around your waist as yours moved to his neck.

"Shut up, he was flirting with you!" Charles argued.

"He was not! He actually saved me from a lot of creeps asking my name and whether I was free to grab a glass of wine or whatever,"

Charles knew that was the truth, he had witnessed it and was common talk between the drivers how their girlfriends and sisters were often approached by older men with not so good intentions.

Knowing he had no way to defend himself, he rolled his eyes at your giggles when your lips met his, but admiring him when he rolled on top of you, running your thumb through his cheeks.

#charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 x reader

[stellarsagittarius]

👶✨️ 5th House: Your Children in Astrology✨️👶

[PS. Personal readings are open. If you wanna book one, check out the pinned post on my blog 💕🙏.]

Masterlist: All my posts in one place

The fifth house in astrology is associated with creativity, pleasure and children. It's also the house of good fortune, basically all the good and fun things in life that excites your inner child.

By looking at our fifth house we can understand how our children are like or how they are going to be like in the future when we have them.

What to look for:

For this, check your 5th House, and it's ruling planet. Then check what sign the ruling planet is in, then check what that sign is ruled by.

For example, I have Aries 5th House (Aries is ruled by Mars). My Mars is in Pisces. Pisces is ruled by Jupiter, therefore my two children significators are Mars and Jupiter. So I will read about Aries, Pisces, but also pay close attention to Scorpio and Sagittarius. Since these four signs are most likely to be present in the big three of my children, and along with that, Aries, specifically (my fifth house sign) will tell me about their core personalities.

Here are the signs and their rulers:

1. Aries/Scorpio - Mars

2. Taurus/Libra - Venus

3. Gemini/Virgo - Mercury

4. Cancer - Moon

5. Leo - Sun

6. Sagittarius/Pisces - Jupiter

7. Capricorn/Aquarius - Saturn

—

(You can scroll and read about your signs but I have included a few examples of the people I have studied so far. You are welcome to read that for cool insights, if not, then your welcome to skip it.)

Kris Jenner - Capricorn 5th House (Saturn), Saturn is in Scorpio (Ruled by Mars). Therefore her children are going to have Mars or Saturn in their big three.

Robert Kardashian - Taurus 5th House (Venus), Venus in Aquarius (Ruled by Saturn). Children going to have Saturn and Venus.

Caitlyn/Bruce Jenner - Pisces 5th House (Jupiter), Jupiter in Capricorn (Ruled by Saturn). His kids gonna have Jupiter or Saturn in their big three.

Kris and Robert's children (Saturn, Venus or Mars ruled):

Kourtney Kardashian (Capricorn Moon, Aries Sun, Mars and Mercury) - Saturn and Mars

Kim Kardashian (Libra Sun, Saturn, Jupiter) - Venus (she has Jupiter ruled Rising and Moon, but her natal Jupiter is closely conjunct her natal Saturn!)

Khloe Kardashian (Aquarius rising, Saturn in Scorpio) - Saturn and Mars

Rob Kardashian (Aquarius rising, Libra Moon) - Saturn and Venus

Kris and Caitlyn/Bruce's children (Saturn, Jupiter or Mars ruled):

Kendall Jenner (Aries Rising and Moon, Scorpio Sun) Mars

Kylie Jenner (Capricorn Rising, Scorpio Moon) Saturn and Mars

Aries 5th House

Your children are likely to be robust and full of energy. These children are the ones who cannot be tied to one particular thing. They will need constant change in the scenery or simply a lot of hobbies that keep their high energy going. These kids grow up to be the leaders and independent individuals, due to their pioneering personalities. As kids, they are likely to take charge of their activities and would want to go into something with full force. They are also likely to be very impulsive and might ask super unfiltered questions. If they like something, they are going in. They won't wait or sit around imagining or thinking anything. So yes, even though these kids need to be monitored 24/7 as toddlers, you can always give them hobbies so that you can catch a breath! Due to their unwavering levels of energy, with proper attention from you and practical knowledge given to them, they will learn how to stay safe and stand up for themselves. Also, these kids are likely to be the ones who stand up for their friends and the things/facts they truly care about. Going to give their arguments with full passion. Give them a proper schedule so that they can direct their endless levels of energies in a meaningful way. Engaging in high energy sports is one of the best ways to keep them smiling and enjoying their time.

Taurus in 5th House

When Taurus graces the 5th House, your children embody the essence of stability and determination. Taureans are the sturdy oak trees of the zodiac, rooted in their interests and pursuits. These kids possess an unwavering dedication to their chosen activities, and once they find something they love, they are in it for the long haul. Persistence is their key attribute. Expect them to gravitate towards hobbies that yield tangible results, such as art, music, or gardening, where they can witness their progress over time. Their creative endeavors may not be as fast-paced or flashy as some others kids, but they carry an enduring quality that promises long-term growth and achievement. However, it's important to note that their Taurean stubbornness can occasionally manifest when they refuse to budge from their chosen path. These kids are likely gonna do good when you give them a solid system to follow for their everyday activities, so that they can move ahead while sustaining their energy and not getting frustrated with things not working out while going about their day. Engage in practical hobbies with them such as baking or gardening or dancing, and you will see them effortlessly making use of their five senses.

Gemini in 5th House

Your children are going to be the epitome of curiosity. They are akin to butterflies, fluttering from one interest to another with remarkable agility. These youngsters thrive in environments that stimulate their ever-active minds. Books, puzzles, and social interactions are their playgrounds of choice, where they can indulge their need for learning. It's a common sight to see them exploring various hobbies and activities, switching from one to another just as quickly as well. Their unending curiosity translates into a constant stream of questions, so be prepared to keep up with their intellectual inquiries and try to engage in productive discussions with them. These little whirlwinds of energy are constantly questioning everything. While fire sign kids play war and chase, earth sign kids play cooking and shopping, and water sign kids love to bond with their friends first and foremost, air sign kids, especially Gemini, will pretend to sip tea and gossip about everything with their friends. Make sure they have an environment that supports their need for information, and not suffocate them by shutting them off. And don't fabricate anything.. they will always find out somehow. They have their sources, lmfao (I can confirm, I was a Gemini kid.)

Cancer 5th House

Alright, buckle up because we're talking about the super receptive and moody sign, and these kiddos are an emotional rollercoaster, but adorable nonetheless. Your little ones are like a sea of feelings, and they're not afraid to let you know it. These children are basically walking heart emojis. They'll laugh with you, cry with you, and sometimes, you won't even know why they're crying, but they will. Expect a whole lot of nurturing going on. These kids are the caretakers of their playgroup. They'll make sure everyone has a band-aid and a hug when they fall down. They've got this natural motherly or fatherly vibe, even if they're just kids themselves. Don't be surprised if they're a bit attached to you as parents. As toddlers, they are the type to want to sleep in your bed longer than you'd like or cling to your leg when you drop them off at school. It's their way of saying, "I love you, don't leave me!" But don't worry; they'll grow out of it, eventually. Creativity is where they shine, and they'll put their heart and soul into any artistic endeavor. Give them some crayons and watch them create a masterpiece or give them a musical instrument, and they'll compose a symphony of emotions. They value the warmth of their home and their parents, so make sure to be their rock whenever they need you.

Leo 5th House

These kids are born to be stars, in their own amazing way. These little lions are all about the spotlight. From the moment they can talk, they'll demand your attention, and they're going to get it one way or another. Cause they are just amazing. Expect your living room to be their personal stage. They'll put on shows, dress up in crazy costumes, and they'll insist on being the one in charge of everything. They are also very creative, so you will see them experimenting in all the hobbies they take up. You'll hear them say, "Look at me!" a lot, and trust me you won't have a choice. In their early stages, you need to give them encouragement for whatever they do, no matter how silly it is, as it will bring out their natural confidence. These kids believe they can conquer the world, and they'll make sure you know it. Encourage their creativity, and they'll thrive. Drama, dance, art – they'll excel in anything that lets them express themselves. But don't mistake their fiery spirit for being bossy. They're natural leaders, and also very caring. These kids have a heart of pure gold, and they like it when they can make other smile because of them. Plus, they're fiercely loyal. If their buddies are in trouble, these kiddos will charge to the rescue, cape and all. Make sure you don't, directly or indirectly, dim their lights by not appreciating them for who they are or imposing yourself onto them too much.

Virgo 5th House

Get ready for some organized chaos because Virgo in the 5th House means you've got some seriously detail-oriented kids on your hands. These little ones have a knack for spotting the tiniest speck of dust in a room and a love for having everything in order. They're the kids who'll color-code their crayons and arrange their toys by size and type. Expect them to correct your grammar and tell you when you've missed a spot while cleaning. But hey, it's all in the name of perfection! They may not be the most outwardly expressive, but their love is in the details so that they can create a good functional space for things. They also have a natural caregiving tendency so you will catch them being quite gentle with a lot of things. They'll show you they care by helping out, whether it's folding laundry or picking up after themselves without being asked. Their creative streak leans toward precision – think intricate drawings, meticulous crafts, and carefully crafted stories. They'll analyze everything before making a move, so don't expect them to jump into things without a plan. Always try to give them practical knowledge of things around the house or even outside the house. When things are looking right to them they will be super fun, but when they see something not going the way they want, they can become very nagging and picky.

Libra 5th House

These kids bring an essence of charm into your life. These kids are little diplomats in the making, smoothing out conflicts with clever words. Blessed with an amazing ability for judging situations and people, you might find them giving side-eyes quite often when they don't like something. They've got a strong sense of fairness and justice, so you will always find them measuring if whatever you are giving to their siblings and themselves is equal in quantity or not. They'll say, "That's not fair!" more times than you can count, because they are kids and kids deserve all the love in the world. But same goes for others, if they see someone getting less than them, they will start to feel charitable. Creativity is their jam, and they'll love anything that allows them to express their artistic side. A thing for fashion and beauty is also running in them all the time. They'll shine in group activities. These kiddos have an innate desire to make everyone around them happy, and they're excellent at reading people through the way people express their likes and dislikes. They'll be the first to offer a kind word when someone's feeling down. Decision-making might take a while. They'll weigh every option meticulously, trying to find the perfect balance. Don't rush them; it's all part of their quest for equilibrium and beauty in everything they do.

Scorpio 5th House

You've got some seriously passionate and mysterious kids on your hands. These little Scorpios are the tiny inspectors, always digging for the truth, even if it's hidden in the most obscure places. They're not the ones to share their feelings openly with anyone, but their emotions run very deep. As toddlers and babies they are going to be extremely attached to you (their primary care-givers) and will be fiercely loyal as well. (I have a 3 year old Scorpio sun, Cancer rising cousin and he is so possessive over his mama's belongings, lmao). You'll need to be a mind reader to understand what's going on beneath the surface. And don't be surprised if they give you that knowing look, as if they've seen the secrets of the universe. Creativity for them is all about delving into all things mysterious. They'll explore the depths of their imagination fearlessly. These kids are fiercely loyal to their friends and family. If someone messes with a person they care about, they better watch out because these kids got a sting that can rival an actual scorpion's. They'll defend their loved ones with a passion that's both admirable and a little scary. Make sure you respect their need for closeness, because these kids won't likely intermingle and be super social with just anyone they meet. But these kids are also very kind and have a good spot for being emphatic to other people.

Sagittarius 5th House

These kids bring a WILD sense of adventure and curiosity into your family. They are little explorers, always asking, "What's next?" Creativity for them is all about freedom. They'll love to write, draw, or dance, but it has to be on their terms. Don't be surprised if they're unconventional and experimental in their artistic pursuits. These kiddos are truth-seekers, and they'll question everything. Expect lots of "Why?" and "How?" questions. Expose them to meaningful art or hobbies, and they will have a stable ground to construct their life upon. You can always teach them things, but they will have to actually live that experience to know what the lesson truly is. So never ever hold them back. They're on a quest for knowledge, and they won't stop until they've satisfied their curiosity (which is probably never gonna happen, lol). Independence is their core quality. As parents, you'll have to give them room to spread their wings and explore the world on their terms. They'll make mistakes along the way, but that's how they learn and grow. So allow them to ask and develop their own belief system over time. Give them practical knowledge so they can know how to navigate the world, because a lot of Sagittarians tend to be a bit detached from material pursuits. The best advice is to grow with them. Teach them but also learn from them. And give them plenty of love too, because they aren't as emotionally expressive, so you may never know.

Capricorn in 5th House

These kids are mini-adults from day one, and they've got their eyes set on climbing the ladder of success, even if it's a ladder made of Legos. They'll be the ones who organize their toys into a meticulously planned system, complete with spreadsheets and color-coded charts. These little Capricorns are all about structure and discipline, and they'll thrive on routine. Creativity for them is a bit more serious. They'll lean toward traditional arts like painting or music, and they'll take it very seriously. Expect to see them practicing their instrument or perfecting their art skills with a lot of dedication. When they have their eyes set on something, they are going to give everything to achieve it, so you have to be aware that they aren't getting frustrated or overly obsessed over a result. Responsibility is their middle name. These kids are the ones who'll do little tasks over the house and make sure everyone's on time for things. Don't be surprised if they're a bit reserved with their emotions. They're not big on grand displays of affection, but they'll show their love through actions. They'll be there to support you and their friends when it matters most. As parents, you'll need to encourage their creativity while also allowing them to have some fun. They can be a bit too serious at times, so don't forget to let them be kids and enjoy the simpler things in life. Allow them to discover a purpose that will help them direct their energy in a more meaningful and long term way.

Aquarius in 5th House

Get ready for some quirky and independent parenting because Aquarius kids means you've got some unique and unconventional personalities on your hands. These Aquarian kids are little rebels with a cause. Creativity for them knows no boundaries as well. They'll invent their own games, create fantastical worlds, and challenge the norms of art and expression. You can expect some avant-garde masterpieces and out-of-this-world ideas. These are super independence kids. They'll want to do things their own way, and they'll question authority like it's a sport. These kids are natural inventors and innovators and they'll tinker with gadgets, build contraptions, and dream up solutions to problems you didn't even know existed. Encourage their curiosity, and who knows what they might create. Emotionally, they can be a bit detached at times. They're not the most touchy-feely, but they'll show their love by being there for you and their friends when it really matters. They've got a humanitarian streak and will stand up for what's right. And ususally, they won't be taking a no for an answer. As parents, you'll need to give them the freedom to explore their ideas and express themselves in their own unique way. They're not ones to follow the crowd, and that's a good thing because they're here to change the world. Believe in them and appreciate their unique nature, it will encourage their confidence a lot.

Pisces in 5th House

These kids are like living fairy tales. Creativity is their superpower. They'll spend hours lost in their own little world, drawing, painting, or writing stories that transport you to magical realms. With these kids, the key is to become an imaginative child yourself. Encourage their artistic pursuits, and you'll be amazed at what they create. Emotions run deep for these little Pisceans. They're incredibly empathetic and sensitive, so be prepared for them to pick up on your feelings and offer a shoulder to cry on, even if they're just kids. They're natural storytellers, and they'll spin elaborate tales with vivid imagination. Bedtime stories will be an adventure, and they'll have an uncanny ability to make even the most ordinary events sound enchanting. They are also very adventurous, having this curious nature for whatever they have their eyes on. These kids are the ones who rescue injured animals and bring home stray cats. They've got a heart as big as the ocean, and they'll want to help anyone in need. Teach them to channel their compassion in positive ways. As parents, you'll need to provide a nurturing and supportive environment for their creativity to flourish. They might be a bit disorganized, so help them find ways to stay grounded and focused. They are often very kind natured and empathetic kids, so always teach them the importance of boundaries and consent.

Stay tuned for more astrology content. Thanks for reading 🏹✨️!

[beskarandblasters]

sexfiles.mp3

Tim Rockford x True Crime Podcaster!Reader

Main Masterlist | Tim Rockford Masterlist

Author’s note: Thank you to @wethairjoel and @theywhowriteandknowthings whose ideas I combined to come up with the title! Banners and dividers are by @saradika!

Summary: You’re a true crime podcaster and you land the interview of your dreams with Detective Tim Rockford. What will happen when you two are alone in the studio after the interview is done?

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: Reader is able-bodied, F!Reader, uneven power dynamic (Tim is a guest on Reader’s show) pet names, oral sex (M and F receiving), semi public sex (I think), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, drinking, no use of y/n

It’s the morning of what’s about to be the highlight of your career. You’re about to interview the Detective Tim Rockford for your true crime podcast, MysteryMondays.mp3. It’s a Friday, your typical recording day, and you’d typically wear just jeans and a t-shirt of your choice since you’re not on camera and normally recording by yourself. But today’s different. You have a guest joining you, and you’ve had guests on the podcasts before but none of them have been like Tim. You’re dressing to impress. 

Tim Rockford is the lead detective on the case that’s been dubbed the “Grandma Ursula” case. What started as just a simple disappearance of an elderly woman in a small town turned into an overnight sensation where the public learned that she not only faked her disappearance but was also accused of murdering a man. The trial is set to happen in a few weeks so Detective Rockford is coming on your podcast to go over what information has been released to the public. 

You opt for a sweater, a skirt hitting your mid-thigh, and a pair of Doc Martens before leaving the house, mentally hyping yourself up on the drive to the studio. The interview isn’t until two so you have the rest of the morning and the first half of the afternoon to prepare. 

“Don’t you look nice today,” your producer Kendall says when you pass her desk.

“Why thank you.”

“It wouldn’t be because a special guest is coming in later today, would it?”

“Are you insinuating I don’t look nice every day?” you joke. 

“You know what I’m getting at.”

“I just want to look presentable for Detective Rockford, that’s all.”

“Mhm, get your man,” she laughs as you head to your office. 

You spend the first half of your day going over case notes, key points you want to hit, and some background on Detective Rockford’s career. His case history is extensive so you want to be extra prepared. But soon enough it’s time for lunch and then time to make sure the studio is prepared to record. 

“Are you nervous?” Dana, a member of your research team, asks as you’re checking the microphones. 

“A little. I mean, he’s a big deal.”

“For sure. But he seems nice, at least from the interviews I’ve seen on TV.”

“I hope you’re right,” you respond, setting two bottles of water on the table. 

Kendall’s printing out your show notes in the office but you’re gonna do your best to not have to use them. You want to maintain eye contact with him as best as you can. Like Dana, you've seen his TV interviews and you can’t deny that he’s attractive, especially when he’s wearing his shoulder holster. Wouldn’t it be crazy if he wore that to the interview? He definitely won’t but you can dream. 

Kendall comes into the studio with the notes, setting them on the table in between the microphones. She rests a hand on her hip and asks, “You ready?”

“I think. As ready as I'll ever be.”

“Don’t be nervous. He’s just some guy.”

“He’s not just some guy! He’s a well-renowned detective who definitely has better things to do than to be on our silly little show.”

“Oh yeah, he’s not just some guy. I don’t know why I said that,” she laughs. 

“You’re just trying to make me less nervous. But unfortunately, I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

“You’re gonna do great! You’ve been preparing for this for a long time.”

The door buzzer goes off and ah fuck, he’s here. You glance down at your watch. He’s thirty minutes early. 

“It’s now or never,” Kendall sighs, “I’ll go get him for you.”

You nod and take a deep breath. Dana leaves the studio to grab Josh, your other producer, to finish getting the equipment set up while you head to the bathroom to make sure you’re still looking presentable. You did just eat lunch, after all, gotta make sure nothing’s in your teeth. You pop a mint and head back into the studio to wait where Detective Rockford appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a slight smirk on his face. His eyes are fixed on your legs but they snap back up to yours when you take a step towards him and say, “Detective Rockford! It’s so nice to meet you.”

You hold out your hand to shake his and he accepts, resting his other hand on top of yours. No shoulder holster but he’s wearing black pants, black boots, and a white button-down shirt that’s just a little too tight. It doesn’t look bad, though. It just accentuates his chest and his biceps. 

“Please. Call me Tim,” he smiles. 

“Of course, Tim. Thank you so much for coming on the show.”

“Well, thank you for having me. It’s an honor.”

“I think we’re all set to record if you’re ready.”

“All set,” he smiles. 

You lead him back to the recording table where he takes a seat across from you. Kendall and Josh are on the other side of the glass, wearing their headsets and giving the green light to start whenever you’re ready. 

“Hello everyone and welcome back to another episode of MysteryMondays.mp3! I’m joined by a special guest today, Detective Tim Rockford! Thank you so much for coming on the show, Tim.”

“Thanks for having me. I was excited when your team reached out to me.”

He’s probably just saying that to be polite but it made your heart jump a little, the thought of him getting excited to be on your show. 

“So Tim, tell us what’s been like to be the lead detective on what the internet has dubbed the Grandma Ursula case?”

“Extremely busy. There’s been lots of ups and downs in this case. I can’t even tell you how many leads I’ve looked at.”

“This case started with a disappearance, right?”

“Ursula herself went missing for roughly thirty days. But we now have information that leads us to believe that she faked her disappearance.”

You want to glance down at your show notes but you resist, doing everything in your power to keep your eyes locked onto Tim’s warm brown gaze. 

“And now she's a suspect in the murder of Darius Cage?”

“She’s actually been charged with the murder.”

“Oh yes, that’s right! The trial is set to begin in three weeks.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re about to get even busier,” you joke. 

“I am. You’re lucky you snagged me when you did,” he says, shooting you a wink. 

Fuck. 

The rest of the interview goes smoothly without any hiccups. You barely had to use your show notes and Tim proved to be a natural in the recording studio. One thing you noticed about him is that he’ll maintain eye contact with you and then all of a sudden his gaze shifts down to your lips, watching them as they move before locking his eyes back with yours. He did that several times throughout the interview. 

You’re just about to wrap up today’s recording session before you hit him with one final question. 

“So what do you think Ursula was doing with all those knives?”

“Ask me again in a few weeks,” he says, winking at you again. 

That fucker. 

“Well, thanks for tuning in to this week’s episode of MysteryMondays.mp3! Be sure to subscribe to us on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. And thanks again to Detective Rockford for joining us! See you next week everybody!”

“And that’s a wrap!” Kendall says. 

“Great episode guys. You talked for almost three hours!” Josh says. 

You and Tim look at each other and laugh. 

“Oops,” you say. 

You check your watch and it’s pushing five o’clock. Everybody should be going home soon. 

“I could’ve sat and talked to you for another three hours,” Tim chuckles. 

You feel your cheeks go hot at his words. You glance over at Kendall and Josh and then back down again at your watch. 

“Why don’t you guys go home? I’ll lock up for the day.”

“Are you sure?” Kendall asks. 

“I’m sure. I don’t want to keep you guys any longer. Tell Dana she can go home, too.”

Her face shifts into a smirk and she says, “Okay. Let me know when you’re home,” before grabbing her stuff. She shoots you another knowing look and a wave before disappearing through the doorway with Josh. 

And now it’s just you and Tim, alone in the studio. It makes your stomach all swirly being here alone with him but you know nothing’s going to happen. You rise from your chair and get ready to pack up for the day but Tim stops you. 

“I meant what I said.”

“Oh really?” 

“Mhm. Stay and talk for a bit.”

“Okay,” you smile, sitting back down. You scooch your chair in closer and place your elbow on the table, resting your head in your hand. 

You spend God knows how long talking about your career and his, cracking jokes, and having a good time. Throughout the conversation, you’re inching closer and closer to each other. He keeps doing that thing where his eyes drift from your eyes down to your lips and back up. You can’t take it anymore. He has to be flirting with you, right?

Something comes over you and you just… You lean forward and kiss him. He’s stunned at first but he melts into your touch. But reality sets in for you and you pull away, profusely apologizing. 

“Oh my God?? I’m so sorry. That was unprofessional of me. I’m-”

“Took you long enough.”

“Huh?”

“Honey, there were several times I thought you were gonna do that during the interview.”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb, honey. I know you want me. The feeling’s mutual.”

Your brain is short-circuiting, unable to form a complete sentence. And he can sense that, leaning forward and continuing to kiss you. Part of you wants to stop, telling yourself that this is a bad idea. It’s unprofessional and bad for your career on so many levels. But the pleasure-driven part of you is telling you to keep going, telling you to fulfill your fantasy. 

His large hands caress your face and the kiss grows more passionate. He nips your bottom lip with his teeth and a small moan escapes your mouth. He moves along your jawline, stopping at your ear. 

“I bet you want me as bad as I want you,” he whispers, his warm breath tickling your ear.

“Mhm,” you respond, your voice breathy and high-pitched. 

“On the table, honey,” he says. 

You do as you’re told, rising from your chair and lying down on the table in between the microphones. Your legs hang off the edge and Tim hikes up your skirt, spreading your thighs apart. He sinks to the floor, pushing your panties to the side. His breath tickles you again as he marvels at how wet you are already.

“So wet already, huh? Just from sitting and talking to me? That’s all it takes?”

You feel your chest and the tips of your ears heat up in embarrassment but it doesn’t last long because he licks one long, slow stripe up your cunt. He moves his tongue to your clit, swirling circles around it as he hooks his arms around your thighs. He’s flush against your face as he eats you out, your wetness coating his face thanks to you writhing against him. In no time, you’re coming against his face, back arching up off the table. He hums into you as he tastes your release, lapping up every last drop.

“Fuck, honey. You taste so good,” he praises, coming up by your face after you’re done coming.  

“Th-thanks,” you breathe out. You catch your breath for a moment before realizing… You have to suck his cock, like now.

You sit up from the table, prompting him to ask, “What are you doing?”

“In the chair, Detective,” you smirk.

He catches your drift and undoes his belt before sitting in his chair. You rest on your knees, unzipping the fly of his pants and pulling his already hard cock out. 

You waste no time, swirling your tongue around the head, just slow enough to drive him insane, before taking his length in your mouth. He curses under his breath, returning his hands to each side of your face like he did when he was kissing you earlier. You wrap one hand around the base of his cock while you bob your head up and down, feeling him grow even harder in your mouth. 

“Fuck,” he curses, louder than before. 

“But not so fast, honey,” he says, pulling your mouth off of him, “Gonna cum in that sweet pussy of yours.”

You nod eagerly, getting up off the floor and bending over the table without being told to do so. 

“Good girl,” he praises, situating himself behind you. He aligns himself with your entrance and enters you slowly, grabbing your hips with his hands. 

He thrusts in and out of you unforgivingly, his cock stretching your walls. Soon enough the studio is filled with the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin. 

“Fuck, honey. You’re so wet,” he moans, slamming into you harder on the last word.

“Fuck, Tim. You’re so big.”

“Mmm, I bet you like that. You like me stretching you out?”

“Fuck, yes!” you cry out, feeling the head of his cock, brush against your cervix.

You’re on the edge of orgasm but you knew you weren’t going to last long. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whine.

“Let me feel it, honey.”

Your walls flutter around him and tears spring in the corners of your eyes. It’s hard to believe this is even happening, right in your studio. But it is and it’s intense. Your orgasm triggers his own and he paints your insides with his release. When you’re both done coming down from your high he pulls out of you, standing up straight and putting his cock away.

“That was… amazing,” you breathe out, standing upright and smoothing down your skirt.

He nods and goes in to kiss you. You’re feeling awkward all of a sudden, not knowing what to say. 

“Well, uh, the episode will be up on Monday.”

“Really? You’re talking business now?”

“Listen! What do you want me to say?”

“How about “I’d love to see you again, Tim”?” he smirks.

“Of course, I’d love to.”

“Much better,” he says, kissing you again.

You go to lead him out of the studio but before you leave you check the equipment to make sure everything’s powered off. And that’s when you notice something strange. There’s the audio file of you’re interview but there’s also another file that’s still ongoing.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“The mics were on the whole time.”

He bursts out into laughter meanwhile you’re horrified. You stop the recording and without thinking you grab a thumb drive and move the file onto it. 

“What are you doing?”

“Moving this so no one else listens to it.”

“Ah, our dirty little secret.”

“Emphasis on secret.”

He laughs again. “Don’t be so serious. That’s kinda hot you have that.”

You take a deep breath and he kisses your temple.

“Come on, sounds like you need a drink to loosen up.”

You take him up on his offer, locking up the office before meeting him at a bar downtown. The evening ends with you having sex with him again. But when you part ways the next morning he tells you, “I’d love to come back on the show again.”

“I’d like that, too,” you nod.

You exchange numbers, kiss him goodbye, and head home, thinking about what you’re going to tell Kendall when you see her on Monday. Or maybe you won’t tell her. It is your dirty little secret after all. 

-

Monday rolls around and you still haven’t said anything to Kendall. You’re pretty sure she left the equipment recording on purpose but you pretend to know nothing when she shoots you a knowing look and a smirk.

But it’s the afternoon now and the episode’s just dropped. 

As soon as it’s live you get a text from Tim reading:

Can’t wait to listen to the show. Maybe we can listen to our own episode sometime this week after drinks xx

Yeah, you’re definitely seeing him again this week. 

End note: I said to myself several times while writing this “I can’t believe I’m writing Merge Mansion fanfiction rn” 😭😭😭

Follow @beskarandblastersfics and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post a new fic!

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#tim rockford x f!reader #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #merge mansion #tim rockford smut #pedrostories

[ichorai]

hell, yeah ; roman roy ; part two (m).

pairing ; roman roy x f!reader

synopsis ; pain was an old friend for the both of you.

words ; 32.0k

themes ; fluff, angst, drama, slowburn, smut, childhood friends to lovers

warnings / includes ; depictions of mental and physical abuse, talks of sexual misconduct (cruises incidents), mentions of death, a lot of sexual/suicidal jokes and general foul language, a lot of business talk, phone sex & a handjob, degradation, roman’s implied demisexuality, reader's got a tooth motif bcs all the other roy sibs have their own motifs, a lot of morally grey shit

series masterlist. main masterlist.

The Roy’s summer home in the Hamptons was nothing short of grand. That was always the bare minimum for the family, after all. Though you had been preoccupied with work, having a lot piled up because of your time off for Shiv’s wedding—you had dropped quite a few important meetings to come at Logan’s behest. He called for you, and for all his children, to come to the Hamptons and discuss his plans to sell the company.

You stepped into the home, hands buried within your pockets. Immediately, you were hit by an overwhelmingly foul stench. It smelled an awful lot like rotten meat and, strangely, the piss-sodden alleyways in New York. Your face twisted into a grimace as you strode in, finding Kendall wandering aimlessly downstairs.

“Hey, uh, hi,” he said, awkwardly reaching for a hug when you stuck your arm out for a handshake. The both of you gingerly stepped away from each other.

“What’s that smell?” you asked, knowing full and well that Roman and Shiv were still quite angry with him for basically stabbing them in the back.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I think they’re trying to figure that out,” he replied, waving his hands around to gesture to the milling workers. “You, uhm, you’ll get used to it. Listen, Y/N, I know you and Rome are close, so I just wanted to ask if you could… talk to him. For me.”

Arching a brow, you tilted your head. “You can’t talk to him yourself?”

“He’s not… he’s being difficult right now.”

“Understandably so.”

There was a melancholic look to his eyes. “I know. Can you just tell him I’m sorry? I want… I want us to be okay.”

Pursing your lips, you gave him a firm nod. “Okay, yeah, sure. No promises that it’d change anything, though. You know where he is?”

“By the beach. With Shiv.”

With a hum of farewell, you started backing off, making your way to the sandy shores not too far from the house. You spotted their figures in the distance, bundled in dark coats and long scarves. When they spotted you approaching, the both of them waved.

“Hey, guys,” you greeted, smiling brightly.

“Hey, fuck-face,” said Roman, giving you a quick hug, before stepping back to allow Shiv to do the same. “We were all waiting for you.”

“Sorry I’m late—work has been kicking my ass lately.” 

Snorting, Roman quipped, “You know you can take a couple days to relax, right? I’m literally your boss.”

“I’m a general manager, Rome. If I stop, that’s a large chunk of Waystar down. I’m trying to keep the company from sinking further into the depths of hell,” you said lightly, crossing your arms. “But it seems like Logan wants to sell it away. What’s our viewpoint?”

The both of them struggled for words.

“If the selling isn’t actually real… like some kind of fucked-up loyalty test, we were just talking about how dad’s going to kill Kendall,” said Shiv, looking none too upset about the prospect. “How that would mean it could be Rome who takes up the mantle.”

That made sense. Connor was not an option, not in Logan’s eyes. He was barely a son to the man, much less the heir to his legacy.

“It could,” you said, careful. “It could also mean you, though.”

 Both you and Roman stared Shiv down. 

Finally, she caved and shook her head with a humorless laugh. “Yeah. Yes, it could be me.”

Sensing that the two of them were on the verge of another catfight, you quickly intercepted, “I bumped into Kendall in the house just now. He wanted me to, uhm, tell you that he’s sorry.”

Roman’s features twisted. “Well, tell him he can stick his apologies up his ass.”

“I’m not a fucking messenger! Tell him that yourself.”

Rolling her eyes, Shiv jerked her head back to the house. “We should probably get back inside. Dad’s gonna be here any minute by now.”

It was on your trek back that the three of you bumped into Kendall, who was wearing sunglasses even though the sky wasn’t all that visible through the gloomy clouds. Both Shiv and Roman didn’t hesitate to duke out their frustrations on him, asking why he changed his mind on the takeover so quickly. 

“You do realize how fucked you’re going to be once you’re no longer of any use to him, right?” asked Roman to his older brother. “He’s got you eating fuckin’ humiliation gumbo on TV, and then what? Nothing.”

Snickering, Shiv added in, “Dad’s gonna play a merry tune on you and then throw you out the fucking window. You know that, right?”

“He’s like a sex robot for dad to fuck,” said Rome.

“He’s like a beaten dog.”

“He’s both of those things—and also a piece of shit.”

To your surprise, Kendall stood by and took all the insults his siblings lobbied at him, expression permanently fixed into one of unadulterated misery. A part of you felt bad for him, but another part of you knew he’d brought this upon himself.

Shiv stepped closer to him, each one of her words saturated in venom. “He’s a fucking narcissist who repeatedly puts his self-interest above everything else, and then tries to justify it with half-assed appeals of the rigors of the fucking market.”

“You’re a fucking prick,” Roman finally tacked on after Shiv’s mini-monologue. He glanced over at you. “Y/N, you wanna throw a punch?”

“What were you thinking, Kendall?” you quietly asked. “In what world did you see yourself winning against your father? And even if you did win, it’d be at the cost of your siblings. Would you kill them for your own personal gain? And not to mention that you relapsed and you’re not getting the help you need. You didn’t even thank Roman and I for picking you up from that addict’s shithole. We got you out of there because we were worried for you. We care about you. And you threw that right back in his face.”

Your words lingered heavily between the four of you. 

When Kendall remained as silent as a statue, Roman let out a loud groan, rolling his eyes to the side. “Come on! Fight back, you fuck-bag.”

“Guys, I just… I…” Kendall paused to look off into the waters. “I can’t get into it.”

“Oh, you can’t get into it? Shucks,” Roman mocked. “Fuck you. Come on, man. Treat us! Why did you actually back out?”

Shame flooded his features. He completely disregarded Roman��s question by telling his little sister, “I’m sorry, Shiv. About the wedding.”

There were tears in her eyes. Her father had made her cry after ruining family therapy, and now her older brother was making her cry after ruining her wedding. 

“How dare you apologize to me?” she asked, a sharp edge to her tone. With that, she rotated on her heel and strode off. 

You and Roman followed after her, your arm linked with his.

“You look like shit, by the way,” Roman murmured to his brother as he brushed past him.

By the time you got back to the house, you caught sight of the cooks dumping the expensive food they’d been preparing and laboring over for hours straight into the trash. When you wondered aloud what was going on, one of them quietly answered that they’d found the source of the smell—a dead raccoon covered in maggots, rotting in the chimney. Logan demanded all the food be removed because it’d been sitting around in the stench, calling for pizza to be ordered instead. 

When lunch rolled around, you sat between Roman and Kendall, feeling incredibly tense. The atmosphere between the siblings had yet to clear, and you weren’t quite sure if it ever would. The chatter died away when Logan cleared his throat sharply to quell the commotion and greet the family.

He began with a blunt address of the bear hug situation, which you noticed made Kendall’s foot tap against the floor in agitation.

“I guess the question is… do we really want this fight?” he asked. “Or is now the moment to cash in and fuck off out of the casino?”

Silence. He was met with dead silence.

“If we do fight, I need to tell the board who I want to take over,” said Logan. “So, please—I want you to speak freely.”

His words made Shiv tip her head back and scoff-laugh. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law?”

“Come on! We’re pals here. Let’s fuckin’ have it out!” gruffed Logan as he surveyed the table.

As if to purposefully push her father’s buttons, Shiv crossed her arms and pointedly kept her mouth shut. 

Tentative, Kendall spoke, “I think you should fight, but, uh… you’re the one who built it all. The man, the myth, the legend.”

In a condescending tone, Roman crooned, “Aw. That’s adorable. You’re always lookin’ out for Pops, aren’t you?”

“But is he saying Dad should stay on because that’s what Sandy and Stewy would want?” asked Connor with a frown, ever the conspiracist. “How do we know he’s not a double agent?”

“Nice to see you, too, Con,” mumbled Kendall.

Shaking his head, the older brother said, “Hey, Ken, I’m just saying what others are thinking.”

“It’s possible,” Shiv added, narrowing her eyes.

“Should we frisk him for a wire? Burn him? See if he’s a witch?” joked Roman, scratching at the back of his head.

Interrupting the banter, Logan said, “He’s taken his medicine.”

“Taken his medicine?” Shiv parroted in an affronted manner. “Is that it? Dad—you beat Roman with a fucking slipper in Gustav until he cried for ordering lobster, remember? And Kendall tries to kill you and he’s only five minutes out in the cold?”

You remembered that day. When you’d casually told Roman that you preferred lobster over crab. How he tried to order it for you instead of what was already on the table, and how an already ticked-off Logan was tipped over the edge and lost his shit, taking his frustrations out on Roman. The memory of the actual beating itself was hazy—all you could recall were thuds and muffled whimpers, fearful tears on your cheeks. The purple bruises on his face didn’t fade away for a long while. He would try to joke about it, but you never found it funny. You had apologized over and over again, until Roman told you to shut up and forget about it, nonchalantly adding that he wanted the lobster, too. That it wasn’t just for you.

But it was. It was all yours, had Roman been successful in acquiring the crustacean for you. You didn’t need to know that, though.

Trying his best to shrug off Shiv’s words, Roman tilted his head to the side and quipped, “Well, it’s not polite to order the most expensive item on the menu when you’re not paying, Siobhan.”

Logan could dump a billion dollars into an incinerator and that would barely even make a dent on how much wealth he was hoarding, you wanted to say. You kept your mouth firmly shut, biting down on your tongue.

As per typical Logan fashion, he brushed off the call-out of his abuse to his son. “We’re not doing memory lane here. Come on, spit it out. What do you all think? Stick or sell?”

“Well, I think you’re in the prime of your life,” chimed Tom. “I think another decade is just what the doctor ordered.”

From beside you, Roman’s knee nudged into yours as he began miming choking on a dick. You smiled, almost laughing out loud, but caught yourself before you did. 

“I, uhm, I think selling seems cool…” began Willa.

“Hey, Dad, Willa thinks selling seems cool!” snorted Roman, which made Willa fall uncomfortably silent.

With a disapproving stare, Connor bit out, “Asshole.”

“You,” said Logan. It took you a moment to realize that he was staring directly at you. Heat prickled at the back of your neck. “What do you think?”

You sat up straighter in your chair. “You’ll be rich enough to live a thousand lives if you sell. You’ll still be rich enough to do so if you stay in the game. The only difference is, you lose your legacy if you go with the former.”

Scrutinizing you, Logan dipped his head and took a sip of champagne. “Mmh, wise words, sure. Not your opinion, though. Not what I asked for. Those are just facts we all fuckin’ know. Bah—don’t waste my time. Fucking useless. Leeching off of me while your parents are parading in a nameless exotic country, drinking their brains into toxic liquid that leaks out of their ears.”

Shame curled within your stomach, and a blistering flush spidered through your skin. You could feel all eyes on you, including Roman’s. You were no stranger to Logan’s verbal abuse, but it’d been a long time since he brought up your parents' and their neglectful nature. The wounds were reopened, and stung much worse than you remembered.

Drumming her fingers against the table, Shiv said, “Dad, I think it’s possible that you’ve somewhat chilled the atmosphere of free-flowing debate here.”

“You know, Kodak was trading at about a hundred dollars a share back in ‘97. Yesterday, you could pick it up for about three bucks. That could be us. If we cash out, we could walk away with ten billion.” Logan glanced at his youngest son, noticing how he’d shuffled his chair closer to you. “Roman. What do you think?”

Swallowing, Roman shrugged. “I dunno, Dad. I fuckin’ love money, but I’m really scared of you, so…” He made a high-pitched noise, barely passable as a laugh. “Yeah, uhm, honestly—I’m not sure I’m willing to give my strategic advice in a public forum when I could just be a, uh, a player in any future moves.”

There was obvious exasperation in Logan’s eyes. Disappointments, the lot of you were in his eyes. Without another word, Logan stood up and began to hobble out of the dining room, pizza left untouched. 

“Uhm, Dad?” Roman called out after him, confused. 

He didn’t respond.

Roman patted your back twice before getting up as well, following after his father. Shiv was hot on his heels.

One by one, Logan had told them through the door he had closed behind him. He wanted his kids to come in one by one, alone, so that he could have their unfiltered opinion.

Roman went in first, but not before squeezing your hand, and slipping through. When he emerged only ten minutes later, his face was despondent. But his lips were twitching upwards, and you could immediately tell that he was just faking it.

“He’s dying,” he joked with faux anguish. “Riddled with cancer.”

The way Shiv’s brows kinked told him that she didn’t find it all that funny. “Rome.”

“What? It’s a joke. It’s funny. Dad’s got cancer. What’s not funny about that?” You patted his back and nudged him over to the couches, where Connor and Willa were sitting.

The eldest son rolled his eyes. “Sick puppy,” he called Roman.

“No, but seriously, he asked me to run the company.” Dead silence. “I’m kidding. Or am I?”

It was then that Logan called for Shiv to go in. You took Roman’s arm, leading him off into another room, where it was quieter.

“Hope you’re not planning on molesting me back here,” Roman languidly commented, but didn’t fight off your grip. “Nobody would believe me after what I said about Dad—I’d be like the boy who cried wolf.”

“Rome,” you said, partially exasperated, partially somber. “What did he say back there?”

The man across from you scratched at the back of his head. “Honestly? Nothing.”

“Hm?”

“I mean—I explained to him that it’d be smart to sell some shit, keep some shit. Financialize the company. I don’t know. Couldn’t really gauge his reaction—then he just said okay and told me I could go.” Your friend rested his hands on his hips. “Do you think that was smart? Do you, uhm, think he thinks that was stupid?”

It took you another moment to shake your head tentatively. “I think you did the best you could, given the ultimatum. Besides—you wouldn’t really want to run this shitshow, would you?”

He stepped back in an affronted manner. “What do you mean? You don’t think I can do it?”

“It’s not a matter of whether or not you can do it, Ro. It’s about if you want to or not. And I know you wouldn’t. It’s not… it’s not you. You’ve always said the company was like a cage for you.”

The way Roman squared his shoulders told you that he was growing defensive. “Yeah, well, it’s like a fuckin’—a good fuckin’ golden cage. An amazing cage. A cage where I can roll around and throw shit at people. I’d like to stay here for the rest of my life.”

“Do you? Really?”

“What, is this some kind of reverse psychology bullshit Dad put you up to? Just—” He stepped back when you reached out for him. “Fuck off.”

With a huff, you shook your head. “Roman, you need to pull your head out of your fucking ass and realize that I’m the only friend you have. If you can’t trust me, you’re fucked.”

There was a tense beat of silence between you.

Then, he narrowed his eyes on you. “If you stab my back, I’m going to kill you, then throw myself off the highest building I can find. It’ll be like a Shakespearean tragedy.”

“Okay, Rome.”

“I’ll put your head on a spike. Keep it as decoration.”

Slowly, he let you wrap your arms around him. “Okay, Romeo.”

“I’ll pluck your teeth out and wear them around my neck like a string of pearls.”

“Love you, too, Ro,” you said, hugging him tight.

“Yeah, whatever, fuck-face.” He buried his nose into your neck, inhaling sharply. “I knew you were going to molest me.”

The family reconvened later that night, where Logan announced that he decided he was going to keep the company, claiming his ambitions to be the last man standing. Then, he pronounced Roman and Kendall as co-chief operating officers, much to everyone’s dismay.

“We need to stick tight—tighter than ever now,” Logan defended when Roman began to protest. 

“But he—no. No, I’m sorry. Excuse me? He… he tried to help your oldest enemy to take over and now he’s getting a fucking promotion? Is that what’s happening?” Rome asked from beside you, arms crossed over his chest. 

The old man nodded. “That’s my decision.”

“Well, it’s bullshit,” Roman declared.

Quiet settled over the group. 

Like a dog being kicked, Roman withered away beneath his father’s contemptuous stare. You put a hand on his shoulder. 

“And you’re going to name a successor?” Connor asked.

“After some consideration, I think we just need a name to flag privately to big investors for now. I mean, it could be anyone. I’m not going anywhere. Could be a stuffed fuckin’ shirt. Could be Y/N, for all I know.”

Did he just compare you to a stuffed shirt—?

“Gerri,” said Logan. “It could be Gerri. We might as well say it’s Gerri.”

With a quirked brow, Shiv said, “Congratulations.”

Her godmother tilted her head and shifted in her seat. “Wow. Okay. Thank you.”

“It won’t be Gerri,” Logan rudely clarified. “But Gerri’s fine. Just so we’re clear.”

She was an expert at hiding her disdain, clearing her throat slightly. “No, yeah, I think we’re very clear.”

With that, Logan dismissed himself, calling for Kendall to follow after him. His number one boy.

It was clear that Roman was still upset. He pulled away from you to go sulk about to his sister.

That night, when the moon shone brighter in the Roy’s summer home than it ever did in the city, and you were buried under a thick blanket, you felt the mattress dip beneath another person’s weight. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know it was Roman.

“Shut up,” he gruffed when you smiled ever so slightly, even though you hadn’t said anything.

You hummed pleasantly when he curled his arms around your form like a koala would a tree. The two of you fell asleep that way, breathing each other in and dreaming of necklaces made of teeth.

The acquisition to take on PGM was a bad fucking idea. One of the worst you’ve heard, in fact. When Logan brought it up to you and a few other managers during a meeting, you didn’t hesitate to go bee-lining for Roman’s office, demanding him to tell you every single detail.

“So, you think this is, like, not good?” he asked, voice high-pitched and unstable. Just earlier today, he’d been telling his dad and Shiv what a great idea this was.

“No, Roman. It’s not fucking good. I’m sorry, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want the most trustworthy news source in America right now to be adopted into a fuckin’... fascist, right-wing, conservative dick jerking fest!” You drummed your fingers against his table. “Ro, this can’t happen. It could very well tank Waystar, and news media outlets in general. Reliability goes down, money goes down, our rivals go up. The political climate couldn’t handle such a change like this—”

Pulling at his face, Roman shook his head. “Fuckin’ political climate. Everything’s about the political climate these days. Fuck!”

“Roman, I’m being serious,” you said, brows furrowing. 

He sucked in a deep breath. “Fuck. Ugh—fuck! You are… you’re so…” He made an unintelligible noise while shaking his fists at you, nose wrinkling. “You’re right. God. I hate saying that. Feels like I just took a bite out of a rock. But even if you are, I can’t just stab dad in the back like that.”

Shoulders loosening, you nodded in understanding. “What’re you gonna do?”

“Tabitha is friends with Naomi Pierce. I’ll ask her to get me in touch,” Roman said, lips pursed to the side. It didn’t go past your notice that his stance on the Pierce situation was still left ambiguous. 

Your eyebrows raised a fraction. “Tabitha? You guys still going steady?”

“Uh-huh. Yup. Never better,” he replied, a tad too quickly.

“Really?” you asked. To none of his surprise, you read him like an open book. “You must really like her.”

“Mhm.”

“But not like-like her?”

Roman clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth in distaste. “What are you, nine?”

“You didn’t say yes,” you said in a sing-song voice. Then, you sobered up to seriously tell him, “Oh, Ro, she’s a great catch, sure, but if you don’t have romantic feelings for her, then don’t string her along like that.”

Rolling his eyes to the side, Roman tried his best to sidestep the topic. “It’s none of your beeswax, you prick. Anyways—you’re coming to Hungary, right? Corporate retreat and all that jazz.”

You didn’t feel like the conversation about Tabitha was quite over, but you let it slide for now. “Yes, Roman. Not really looking forward to it, now that I have to deal with an entire acquisition worth billions hovering over me.”

“Just relax for now—it’s not concrete, even if dad says it is.” Roman stood up from his desk to go pour himself a drink. “I’ll save you a spot on the plane. Next to me, if I’m feeling nice. Next to Greg if I want to be entertained by watching you kill yourself in front of him.”

“Thanks, Romeo,” you dryly said.

“You’re welcome. Okay, you can go away now. I wanna jerk off in front of the window without you watching this time. If you stay, I’ll fuck you against it, and that’d be my one-way ticket to a stern finger-wagging by HR.”

With a snort, you got up from your chair, heading for the door. You couldn’t help the way your cheeks burst aflame at his words, even though you knew it was just light-hearted banter. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, you fuckin’ slut.”

“Bitch,” he shot back, just as you stepped foot out of his office. 

“Whore!” you yelled over your shoulder, loud enough to have a few employees turn their head curiously. 

Roman watched you go through the glass windows, shaking his head with fond amusement.

The estate in Hungary was surrounded by forests and clean air—a stark contrast to New York. You were walking alongside Roman down to the hunting grounds, hands shoved into the pockets of your jacket. The rifle slung across his shoulder kept bumping into you, and you would push him away with a mild grin each time it did. He wasn’t very good at walking straight, eventually colliding into you mere minutes later.

The amicable atmosphere was effectively killed when Kendall approached the two of you, solemn-faced as ever. 

“Hey, guys,” he greeted in a monotone voice. “Listen, I have a question.”

Both of you stared at him, waiting for him to go on.

After an awfully lengthy pause he continued, “So, uh, did you guys get a call from that biographer?”

Right. You’d been in the middle of discussing with Tom how he’d landed a top position at ATN when your phone began to ring. You politely excused yourself to take the call, surprised to hear a woman claiming to write an unauthorized biography on your godfather—and she wanted you as a source. Though you had many opinions on a man, you knew that voicing them would be nothing but trouble for you.

Roman rolled his eyes. “I mean, yeah, obviously. I’m the interesting one, after all.”

When you laughed, Roman grinned along with you. 

“I got a call, too,” you admitted. “Did you?”

Tilting his head into a nod, Kendall mumbled, “Yeah. I did.”

“Well? Are you thinking of talking to her?” asked Roman.

“I don’t know,” Kendall said. “Maybe. You guys?”

“No… but if you’re going to talk to her, then I guess I have to talk to her, too. Just to correct your bullshit,” Roman responded.

Two seconds of silence before you huffed out a sigh. “It's a messy business that I don’t want to involve myself in. If Logan finds out, which I’m sure he will, I’m not going to let myself be killed because of it.”

The two started talking about Pierce. Both of them sounded so awfully fake about the entire ordeal that you wanted to bash their heads together and force them not to speak through a brown nosing filter. Their conversation came to a halt when Roman’s phone began to ring, and he stepped away to answer privately, much to Kendall’s chagrin.

“Hey, Kendall,” you broached, rocking your weight back and forth on your heels. “If you talk to that writer, Logan won’t be as forgiving to you this time. He’ll slit your throat in front of everyone to see.”

The man who you onced looked up to as an older brother stared at you with a dead expression. “I know,” was all he said. 

Once Roman came ambling back, Kendall began to interrogate him about the call. Defensive, Roman lied—you knew he was. He had an obvious tell: the way his nose would twitch and his left eye went all squinty. The older brother told him he was full of shit.

Before they could break out in another argument, a Hungarian hunter came up to the three of you, claiming that the truck was ready to take them out into the wilderness. 

“Let’s go murder a terrified mammal,” quipped Roman, taking your hand and leading you away from Kendall.

The hunting party returned to the estate with four boars. You took no part in the killings, having stayed in the truck to speak to Gerri on the phone. Apparently, she had very strong doubts about adopting PGM, and wanted to know if you felt the same. You were Logan’s family, she had said, and he listened to family more than his own general counsel. 

You told her you would if you could, but Logan was adamant on taking on PGM. No amount of needless peddling would sway his mind. 

Hours later, when the sky was dark and the table was laid out with all sorts of fruits and glasses of spiced wines, everybody was seated for dinner. You sat between Roman and Gerri, speaking to both of them in hushed whispers about nothing quite important.

The amicable atmosphere was shattered when Logan stood up to address everybody. 

“Someone has spoken to Michelle Pantsil.” The biographer. 

Both you and Roman glanced at each other, knowing that it was neither of you. Was it possibly Kendall? Had he been lying to the both of you again? Or had it been someone else? Tom? Greg? Gerri? Frank?

“We’ve got rats on this ship,” continued your godfather, rounding behind people’s chairs in a menacing, domineering manner. “And Pierce—who’s got my back, hm? Who’s really behind me? Anyone wanna own up? Hm? Anyone want to rat out a rat?”

Ah. So it seemed Pierce knew of Logan’s moves now. You didn’t dare chance a glance at Roman, knowing it was him who had told Naomi.

Logan began to sharply question a few people at the table, demanding to know if they had anything they wanted to say to him. It shocked you even further when he barked out an order for everyone to put their phones on the table—both company and private.

“Is that really necessary?” asked Gerri. “I’m not even sure if that’s legal to demand people to—”

“Yeah, well, we’re getting down to brass fucking tacks,” spat Logan, eyeing everybody darkly. You did as he said, placing both of your devices onto the table—you had nothing to hide. From the corner of your eye, you spotted Roman slipping his phone beneath his leg.

When he caught your gaze, his head dipped forward a bit and his eyebrows pulled together. Shut up, his eyes seemed to tell you. Even without verbalizing it, he still somehow managed to be rude to you.

You narrowed them back at him, wordlessly telling him not to worry.

“Karl, do you like the Pierce deal?” Logan queried.

“I do. Yes, I do. Yes, yeah.”

With a dry chuckle, Logan shook his head. “Bullshit. Boar on the floor.”

The two men began their back and forth—Logan commanding Karl to stand in the corner whilst the former sputtered out indignant protests. It was embarrassing and humiliating, and he was going to do it all anyway.

“Tom.”

“Me? Uh, Pierce?”

“Yes,” said an exasperated Logan.

Clearing his throat, Tom hesitantly said, “Well, there’s a lot of factors, but uhm, yes. Personally, I like it. I do.”

“Boar on the fucking floor, over there,” gruffed your godfather, pointing over to where Karl stood. 

With no protest, Tom pushed away from the table and slunk off. 

“Gerri! Stand up! Tell me about Pierce.” 

Her gaze stayed on her untouched plate as she got onto her feet. “Well, to be perfectly honest with you… I’ve, uhm, I’ve had a few doubts.”

“Honesty,” Logan finally said. “You see, everybody? Do you see? Honesty. Greg, stand up! Did you get any orders from my brother? The fucking Conscience of the Prairies?”

Everybody watched as Greg stammered out a near incoherent response. He was sent off to stand next to Tom and Karl, as well. This seemed to be Roman’s breaking point, because he burst into a fit of giggles.

“Roman!” barked his father. 

This brought him back to sobriety. “I like it, Dad, for real—”

“Stand the fuck up!”

With a bitter murmur beneath his breath, Roman got up to his feet. With discreet motions, you silently swiped the phone from his chair and placed it beneath your leg so it wouldn’t be seen by his father. 

Desperate to divert the attention away from him, Roman said, “Kendall took a call from the biographer.”

Logan rested his hands upon Kendall’s shoulders, which made Roman bristle even harder. His older brother droned out, “We all got a call, Rome. Y/N, too.”

“Okay, yes, but you—you seemed like you actually wanted to talk to her.”

“To smoke you out for Dad.”

Roman’s nose wrinkled. “What? Fuck you! Why’d you get to smoke me out? I was smokin’ you out!”

As you watched Logan’s fingers curl into Kendall’s shirt, you couldn’t help but think of him as a meat puppet of sorts. So damaged and broken and directionless, ready to heed every single one of his father’s words. 

“Why don’t you tell us about your mystery call?” 

“Oh, the phone call?” Roman propped a hand on his hip, risking a glance at you. Then, he violently began to scratch at the back of his head. “Yeah, sure, it was Frank. He meant to call you, he wants to know if the plan to overthrow Dad is still happening. ”

Finally pulling away from Kendall, Logan’s voice rang out across the room like a slap to the face. “Someone spiked Pierce. Which one of you boars did it?”

He yelled for the three men in the corner to get down on their knees, claiming it was a game. Your godfather, now more of a monster than a man, called for everyone to get up and cheer, “Boar on the floor!” as Tom, Greg, and Karl scrambled about to eat a sausage that was tossed to them in order to prove their loyalty. He demanded they oink and squeal like real piggies would.

It was cruel and animalistic. And Roman was filming with his personal phone, a sadistic smile on his face. 

You would’ve berated him for it, if not for Kendall cornering you against the wall when everybody else was distracted by the Boar on the Floor spectacle. 

“I know you took Roman’s phone. I saw you,” he said, eyes flickering down to your pockets, where you had hidden away the mobile.

“Fuck off, Kendall,” you responded with a daggered edge. “You touch me, and I’ll bite your fucking head off.”

“I thought you were smarter than this,” he told you. “Defending my brother—do you know how many times he’s fucked you over? How many times he’ll keep fucking you over?”

Curling your upper lip in contempt, you spat out, “Get the fuck away from me, Kendall. What’s wrong with you?”

Suddenly, his hand shot out to grab Roman’s company phone from your pocket, prompting you to shove at him, trying to grab the phone back. The commotion caught the attention of everyone else, Roman included. 

He was quick to step forward, pulling you away from his brother so he could try to yank the device away himself. 

“What the fuck? Give me my fucking phone back, asshole!”

“What are you hiding? What’s the code?”

“Are you fucking serious? My code is, uhm, fuck you—”

The two of them began to tussle, arguing indistinctly as they pulled at each other’s hair and limbs. You stepped back, burying your face in your hands in utter exhaustion. 

When Kendall locked Roman in a chokehold, Roman finally keyed in his PIN, shoving his older brother away with a labored breath. 

“Okay, you got it! You fuckin’ happy? There’s nothing in there. Now give it back—give me my fucking phone!” When he began advancing on his brother again, Colin stepped in to keep him at bay. “What, are you going to touch me, too? Grab my fucking balls—I will drop you, you cocksucker!”

Finally, Kendall opened up Roman’s call history, not at all to see Naomi Pierce at the very top. He didn’t hesitate to tell his father.

“Dad, it was Roman. Roman talked to Pierce.”

Panic weaving through his tone, Roman shook his head. “Dad—I didn’t… I didn’t betray you.”

“Then what’s this call from today?” asked Kendall, holding up the phone. “Why are you talking to her?”

For a moment, Roman’s eyes flickered over to you. “Come on, man. I wasn’t trying to fuck the deal. I was trying to land the deal. I was trying to help—I thought it would be a… a nice surprise.”

His words struck you across the face like a slap. Roman had told you that you were right—that acquiring PGM was a terrible idea. You’d thought he was on your side. And now—it seemed like he was doing it all for his father’s favor. The best of both worlds, blew right up in his face.

“Roman,” began Logan, “you’re a moron.”

Crackling silence.

Kendall cleared his throat. “Boar on the floor?”

Having enough of him, you snapped, “Shut the fuck up, Kendall.”

“Y/N was helping him,” said Kendall. “Tried hiding his phone from the table.”

Logan swung his heated, intense gaze onto you. It took all you had within you not to flinch away. 

“I didn’t know what Roman was doing. I just didn’t want to get him in trouble.”

Your godfather shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “How sweet,” he spat. “The two of you are perfect for each other. Fucking morons!”

“Dad,” said Roman, voice warbling. “I am not a moron. She isn’t, either. Y/N, tell him—tell him why you thought PGM was a bad idea.”

Everybody’s eyes were on you. Suddenly, your throat went dry, and all words flew out of your vocabulary. You shook your head, a defeated sigh falling from your lips. Roman’s shoulders drooped with the weight of shame and loss.

“How much is a gallon of milk?” Logan suddenly asked his youngest son, advancing on him until he withered beneath his father’s glare. 

“What?”

“How much is a gallon of fucking milk?”

Confused beyond his mind, Roman said, “I don’t know. I mean, who the fuck knows, Dad? Literally nobody knows! Who gives a shit?”

“Greg! How much is a gallon of milk?”

The lanky man stammered out, “Uh, I mean, like, regular milk, or—?”

Burying his face into his hands, not unlike you had done earlier, Logan sighed out, “I am surrounded by snakes and fucking morons! You’re a bunch of silk-stocking fucks! Who backs me on Pierce, huh? Who?”

When he was met by silence, Kendall answered in everyone’s stead.

“None of them do, Dad. They’re all against it. Karl’s lying, Tom’s lying, Gerri’s playing both sides, Y/N is very clearly against what you’re doing.”

Hot shame curled within your gut. Though you were steadfast in your beliefs against taking PGM, disappointing your father figure was never a pleasant sensation, no matter how terrible he was.

“Uncle Logan, I’m sorry—” you began, but he was quick to shut you down.

“Don’t go sucking my dick now, girl. It’s too fucking late. You’re lucky your brainless parents are major shareholders, or I would’ve fired you a dozen times by now. Do you know that? How fucking worthless you are?”

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes. You wrapped your arms around your stomach, training your gaze onto the ground. 

“Here’s the news,” Logan said, addressing the entire group now. “We are going after it. And what’s more… I will win.”

With that, he stormed off, disappearing somewhere in the vast house. 

“Hey,” Roman tried to speak to you, but you maneuvered away, disappearing up some stairs, where your room was waiting for you.

It took a lot of indecisive thought, but you left the door unlocked.

To none of your surprise, Roman came crawling into your room when everybody was asleep. He slipped into the empty spot beside you, slurring out a litany of nonsensical apologies mixed in with how much of an asshole Kendall was.

“You’re drunk,” you whispered, pushing his face away. You hadn’t the heart to be angry at him. Not this late at night. Not when he was just as upset as you were about what had transpired during dinner. “Go to sleep, Rome.”

“Give me a kiss g’night. And tell me you forgive me.”

“Ro—”

“Just—just fucking do it! Don’t ask me stupid questions.”

Shifting in the bed, you leaned forward to press light kisses to both his fluttering eyelids. “We’re good, Romeo. I don’t know. I’m mad at you, but not as much as I’m mad at Kendall and your dad. I’m your only friend, remember? I love you, asshole.”

“Yeah. Shut up.” His hands curled over your waist and pulled you close. “Say that again.”

There was a laugh in your voice. “What? That I’m your only friend?”

He prodded your side with a stiff finger. “The fuckin’... the love thing.”

A part of you contemplated telling him to fuck off. But the wide, warbling brown of his irises told you that he was desperate to hear it. Desperate for any crumb of affection he was offered. “Mhm. I love you, Ro. I do. Now go to sleep.”

He lazily blinked at you, as if he was a cat. “Don’t be mad if I puke all over you.”

“I won’t be mad.”

“I’d be mad if you puked all over me. Why wouldn’t you be mad at me?”

“Go to sleep, Rome.”

“Night. You smell good, you know? Like if a unicorn had sex with a bouquet of flowers.” Without warning, he sank his teeth into your neck, and you had to physically pry his teeth from your skin to keep him from using you like a chew toy.

Muffling a yawn, you murmured, “Go to sleep before I euthanize you.”

It took him another hour to finally drift off, but when he did, the two of you slept better than you had in months.

Roman was terribly hungover the next morning. Headaches and droopy lids, barely registering your voice telling him to get up. When he finally rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he noticed that you were already dressed for the day, having gotten ready while he was passed out. 

“Everyone’s waiting for you, Ro,” you gently told him, brushing his hair out of his face and then taking his hands to tug him off the bed. “Go wash up. Come on, stinker.”

He let you push him around, handing him the toothbrush and a cup of water to drink once he was done washing up. You turned to give him some privacy to change, but his fingers just couldn’t seem to button his buttons right.

“These fuckin’ things—like they’re made of soap or something—”

With a light sigh, you rotated back around. “Come here, you big baby.” You straightened out his collar before slipping the buttons through their respective holes with ease. 

“Dad’s killing me. He’s cutting my fucking balls off.”

You watched him with a sympathetic gaze. “He won’t do that. He doesn’t see you as a threat.”

“That’s not the compliment you think it is.”

“I wasn’t trying to compliment you.”

Roman watched as you fastened together the last button for him, but you didn’t step away, staying close by him.

“If I was capable of any sudden movement, I would totally pounce on you right now. I like your shirt—is that a new shirt?”

“I’ve had it for four years,” you deadpanned.

“Hm. Old shirt. You should throw it out.” To his relief, you smiled at him.

Patting his cheek once, you asked, “Are you okay? How are you holding up?”

“I don’t know. I’m fucking terrible. But I should be asking you the same. Dad took a beating on the both of us.”

Memories of last night made your nose wrinkle in distaste. 

“I think everyone was just… caught up in the heat of the moment. I don’t think your dad meant everything he said.” He did, you knew he did.

Shaking his head, Roman slunk away to go put on his shoes. “He thinks I’m a moron. The worst of his seed, or whatever the fuck. How am I supposed to get him to take me seriously? Grow a mustache and read the Journal? I’ll fucking do it.”

“Don’t grow a mustache. You’ll look like you came straight out of a shitty European porno.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Ignoring him, you sat down beside the disorderly man, pulling on your own dress shoes and knotting together the laces, before helping him tie his, because his fingers suddenly decided not to work this morning. “Gerri told me I should convince you to go to management training. Because, you know—tada. Your only friend is one of the company’s head managers. Lucky you.”

“What, she and Dad want you to be my teacher? Sounds like a sexual fantasy to me.”

“It probably won’t be me. Might be a lower-level manager. But I’d come to visit! Get you in the spirit of things.”

Roman snorted. “Ugh. I don’t want to go back to classes. I’ll kill myself.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Let’s at least have some breakfast first.”

A week later, Roman was enrolled into the management training program, much to Gerri’s relief. She’d thanked you for convincing him, and you told her that it barely took any effort at all. Really, he just wanted to become better in his Dad’s eyes.

You were swamped with work as usual, occasionally checking your phone to see a long strings of texts from Roman, complaining and whining about the torture they were putting him through (they made him watch a video about ethical conduct in a workplace). 

When Roman called you the first time, you declined because you were in a meeting. You declined the second time as well, because you really had to concentrate on filling out important documents. By the time your phone rang again, you were in between tasks, and picked up with a grouchy, “What, Roman?”

“Yowza, who put that stick up your ass?” his voice came through. His high pitched laughter followed. “It’s fucking hell here. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Sorry,” you replied, pinching your brows. “It’s been terrible up here, too. I’ve got a lot of shit on my plate. This acquisition really isn’t helping.”

“Are you coming?” he asked.

Blinking, you shifted the phone in your palm. “Coming where? To your training?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Mmh, I’m sorry, Ro. I really would, but I’m just up to my head with work. But I’m proud of you! Really, I am.”

“Oh, you are? Fuck you,” he snapped.

You took no offense to his bitterness. “Fuck you back. This is good, what you’re doing, Romeo.”

“Yeah, I know—I’m gonna grow up to be a real little boy and learn the price of an egg, and do… phone sex with my girlfriend like a normo.”

Laughing, you knocked your head back with a grin. “Y’know, phone sex is more kinky than anything. If you wanna be normal, you look her in the eyes during missionary sex and tell her you love her.”

“Pfft. Yeah, right. Do people actually do that? That sounds disgusting.”

“Yes, people actually do that. Have you ever considered that you’re the disgusting one?”

“Don’t be mean, this is my first day of training, you bitch.”

From his tone, you could tell he was smiling, too.

“Seems like you’ve been complaining to me more than actually paying attention.”

“I can’t help it. The videos are too fucking long. It’s like trying to teach Beethoven how to play hot cross buns on the piano.”

You laughed, and Roman felt a certain warmth pool in his chest.

“You can do it, Ro. I believe in you.”

“Thanks, mommy,” he teasingly replied. 

Your phone began to buzz with another call. “Ah—sorry, Rome, I gotta go. See you later, okay?”

Before he could say his grumpy goodbyes, you’d already hung up. To your surprise, your screen displayed the called ID of your godfather. Your palms suddenly grew clammy.

When you answered, his voice was soft and amicable—a stark contrast to what it was like in Hungary.

“Hello, dear. Hope you’re well.”

The rest of the call went surprisingly fine. Logan wanted you to go over to his office to run through some analytics and, apparently, he wanted to apologize to you in person. Mend the broken bridges, he had said. You weren’t entirely sure if there was another game he was playing at, but you couldn’t say no to him. He was your top boss, after all.

Just as you slipped through the glass doors with a hesitant smile, a loud bang sounded from somewhere on the floor. You flinched, eyes widening. 

A gunshot.

Terror wrapped its dark hands around you when security guards quickly took you by the arm, guiding you around bends and corners, before finally leading you into a panic room. Logan came in behind you, looking mildly distraught.

“Are you okay?” you asked, helping him sit down and giving him a loose hug. 

“Fine, fine. Where’s Siobhan? Kendall?”

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

When you felt down your pants for your phone, you let out a frustrated sigh when you couldn’t find it anywhere on you. You must’ve dropped it during all the commotion to get to the safe room. You settled into a seat across from Logan, watching the news on the television, your leg bouncing up and down with agitation. 

A few minutes later, Shiv showed up, embracing her dad with a chaste kiss. She gave you a hug as well, cheek pressing against yours. 

“Do you know what’s going on?”

“No, I don’t. Where’s Tom?”

She pulled away to call her husband, and you slumped back into your chair. 

Down on ground level, Roman was still in his training class, watching his partner begin to present his idea for a new ride, when a man burst through the doors, calling out Mr. Roy!

Well, there goes his chance to pretend to be a normo.

“Just in case you get a news alert on your phone, there’s been an incident at ATN.”

Roman’s brows quirked downwards. “Is my dad okay?”

“It’s been suggested that it could be a concerted attack against the family. Do you want us to take you to a more secure location?”

“Yeah, of course I want that—get me the fuck out of here!” The guard began ushering him out of the class, down the hall to a more ‘secure’ space, which was clearly just an inventory room. “So, uh, does an attack against the family include, like, godchildren, too? Or just, uh, direct blood-related shit?”

“I don’t know yet, sir. All we know so far is that there was a gunshot in the building.”

Panic began to settle in Roman’s chest. He fished out his phone from his pants and called you. No answer.

He texted you, over and over again.

Hey Fuckface You heard about this shooting bullshit? I thought they only went for schools nowadays. Answer me Bitch Right fucking now Can you pick up? Hello  Helloooooooooo 🖕 Hahaha funny joke! Now fucking pick up

It didn’t quite occur to Roman that he should probably call his siblings just yet. He was far too caught up with the idea of you lying on the ground somewhere, bleeding out to death. Certainly not a pleasant thought.

He called you again, and nearly threw his phone across the inventory—safe room when you didn’t pick up.

What the fuck Please answer me it’s not funny anymore If you’re dead I’ll kill you I’m being serious Hello? Please answer You can’t be dead it’s literally not possible

He called a third time, and there was no response. Growing increasingly worried, Roman finally called his twin sister, who responded after the second ring.

“Hey, Rome. You okay?”

“Yeah, whatever. Is Y/N okay?” he hurriedly asked, itching at the back of his neck.

“She’s fine. Here with me in the safe room. I’m fine too, by the way. Thanks for asking.”

“Fuck off, just put me on the phone with her!” 

A second later, your voice came through, and Roman nearly melted onto the floor in relief.

“Hello? Rome? Are you okay?”

“You fucking bitch! What the fuck is wrong with you? I thought you were fucking dead! Why didn’t you answer any of my texts?”

If not for the situation at hand, you would’ve laughed at how worked up he sounded. “I lost my phone when the gunshot sounded out. Sorry, Ro. It happened so quickly. They’re saying it was a suicide. But I’m not really sure—Gerri’s filling me in.”

“So you’re, like, okay? Actually okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“Ugh, fuck you. Go to hell!” he barked into the phone, right before hanging up. 

You stood, still stunned, handing Shiv’s phone back to her with a quiet word of thanks. 

Curled up in the corner of the inventory room, Roman found out that he and Brian had won for best pitch for a ride in the class. He smiled a little, then followed out after his partner to make sure that he wasn’t fibbing.

“I slaughtered them, you know? Everyone in that fucking training class grovels at my feet now,” Roman told Tabitha on the phone. “They’re jealous! And that’s all there is to it. Anyways, um, how are you?”

“Good!” she told him. “I’m about to get in the bath.”

“Oh, yeah?” Roman took a long pause. “Uh, y’know, Y/N told me that phone sex is kinda… kinky. You wanna…?”

On the other side of the line, Tabitha smiled, putting her phone on speaker. “Mmh, alright. I’m making the bath real sudsy.”

“Is that because you’re dirty?”

“I am. I’m a dirty, dirty girl.”

“Yeah, you are. And I would love to fuck you.”

She laughed, light and airy. “I’m so wet for you right now.”

A long pause. Roman winced. “Uh, that’s not… well, you don’t have to be so specific.”

“I’m… being sexy?”

“Yeah, it’s just—could you not do that thing? With your voice? It’s, like, breathy and unnatural.”

Sucking in a frustrated lungful of air, Tabitha shook her head. “That’s what I sound like when I’m turned on, Roman.”

“I know, I just… I don’t like it, so—” He made his way to the bed and laid down. “Let’s just be normal. Let’s be normal. Casual.”

“Normal? Okay, I was just trying to get into it but…”

“No, I’m sorry, yeah, you’re right.” He cleared his throat, trying to lower his voice. “Um, I’m fucking you in the pussy. I’m fucking you hard.”

Tabitha pursed her lips. “Amazing. What are you gonna do next, change your water filter cartridge?”

Rolling his eyes, Roman sighed out, exasperated, “Jesus fucking Christ—oh, look at that, I’m coming! I’m coming! Ah, wow, I came! Thank you! Hooray! Bye.”

Abruptly, he hung up, not unsimilar to what he did to you earlier to you in the day. Guilt suddenly flushed through him—he probably should give you a call. Say he’s sorry.

It only took one ring for you to pick up, and he could tell that you were smiling on the other end. “Hey, Romeo. Didn’t think you had the emotional capacity to talk to me after thinking I was dead.”

Roman rubbed his left eye. “Fuck you. So are you, uh, okay?”

“You already asked me that, Rome.”

“No, like—mentally or whatever. Must’ve been scary. Ooh.” He made a ghost-esque noise, but cringed upon realizing that that probably wasn’t appropriate.

Nonetheless, you scoffed through the phone. “It was jarring, but I’ll be okay. How’d training go?”

“I mean, it’s fuckin’ bullshit but I won the stupid ride pitch thing. They should have it built.”

There was some rustling of sheets. Roman wondered if you were clambering into bed. He wondered what you were wearing. 

“You really think they’ll build you the ride after your first day in management training? Don’t be stupid.”

“I’ve got money. They’ll build whatever I want them to fuckin’ build.”

“You know who you sound like? Like Joffrey Baratheon, from that show I made you watch. The one you never paid attention to unless there was a pair of tits on screen. Spoiled little shits, the both of you.” 

With an affronted gasp, he said, “You can’t talk to me like that. I’m technically your boss.”

You giggled. “Don’t pull the boss card on me, Roman. You’ve slept in my bed more times than in your own. That’s fucking… that’s like power play, right there.”

“Yeah?” Roman could feel a rush of blood go straight to his dick, which began to strain against his pants. “D’you think we’d get in trouble if we ever…”

There was a long moment of silence. Static filled in Roman’s ears.

“If we what, Roman?” you asked, voice quiet. 

Clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Roman blurted out, “I tried the fuckin’ normie phone sex with Tabitha.”

“And?”

“She got turned on.”

“Uh, congratulations?”

“I didn’t like it.”

“Oh. Why not? You like your sex dirtier? Wrong?” You began to chuckle, but it tapered away when Roman went silent on the other end of the phone. More rustling blankets. “Oh, fuck, Roman. You’re an idiot, you know that?”

You could hear the sound of his belt unbuckling. 

“What else am I?” His voice was breathy. Whiny, almost.

“This is wrong, Romeo. I can’t… you’re dating Tabitha, remember?”

“Just keep—keep talking.” When his hand wrapped around his hard dick, weeping with pearly precum, Roman wondered if he’d bust his nut right then and there.

After a few seconds of silence, you tentatively continued, “You’re disgusting, Rome. What’s wrong with you? Touching yourself to my voice when your girlfriend was left high and dry for you.”

He began to stroke himself, eyes fluttering shut. A strained moan fell from his lips. Neither of you had ever ventured this into this territory in your relationship before. Sure, sexual jokes were always passed back and forth between the two of you but this was—this was real. Wasn’t it?

“Mmh, I don’t want you to cum yet, Ro.” You clutched the phone close to your ear. 

A choked noise emitted from his throat. “I can’t—I can’t hold it—”

“Hold it.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to cum with you.” More rustling on the other end as you kicked your pants and underwear down, dragging your finger around your clit. 

This seemed to send Roman into another fit of whines—the thought of you fucking yourself on your own fingers to him made his mind go all hazy. 

“Romey, tell me,” you whispered. “Out of all those times we slept in the same bed together—did you ever imagine fucking me while I was asleep? Like a sick little pervert?”

A groan climbed up the back of Roman’s throat. His pace slowed down, trying his best not to cum prematurely. “Yes, all the fucking time. Yes—” His words died on his tongue as he moaned again, and again, and again—

“God, Ro.” You stifled a gasp when you plunged two fingers into your throbbing cunt. It’d been a long while since you’d had the time to touch yourself—it was no surprise that you were already on the brink of an orgasm. “Have you touched yourself to me before? I’m sure you have. You sick fuck.”

The vein in Roman’s forehead popped as he bucked his hips into his fist. “Fuck, yes! Yes, please, Y/N, please—”

“Please, what?” You moaned yourself, grinding into your palm. “You wanna cum, baby? I wanna hear you make a mess of yourself. Like the dirty fucking pervert you are.”

With those words, Roman toppled off the edge, spurts of warm cum dribbling from his throbbing cock, soaking his fist with its sticky mess. He fucked himself through his high, whining with overstimulation at the sound of your own choked sighs.

Breathily, he whimpered, “What else? Please, what else? What would you do if you were here with me?”

“Mmh, if I was there, I’d make you lick your cum off of me. I’d ride your face until you pass out—oh!”

A creak of the bed as you arched your back, crying out his name, cresting over the peak yourself. 

More silence. Labored breaths.

You swallowed heavily, skin glowing with a faint sheen of sweat. The haze of your orgasm was beginning to dissipate, and you were coming back to your own senses. “Fuck—I’m sorry, Ro. I don’t... I don’t think we should’ve done that.”

He blew out a shuddering breath. “Yeah, we shouldn’t have.” His chest rose and fell unevenly. “But it was fucking amazing.”

“It was.” You ran your tongue along your teeth in thought. “I’m gonna go, uhm, clean myself up, Ro. G’night.”

“Mmh. Night.”

“This doesn’t change anything, right? We’re still best friends?”

Roman screwed his lips up to the side. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah. Totally. BFFs for liferz, or whatever cheesy fucking bullshit you need to hear.”

You scoffed. Things would be okay with the two of you. They always worked out in the end. “See you soon, slut.”

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Romeo.”

“Mmkay, bye, fuck-face.” 

With that, the call ended.

Weeks later, the Roy family was to spend the weekend with the Pierces at their family estate. You figured the reason why Logan had called you to his office right before the suicide was because he wanted you to come along and play mediator—the Pierces were a rather articulate and fanciful family. According to your godfather, they aligned much more with your and Shiv’s politics than his. It reminded you how you were nothing but a pawn on the chessboard for him to maneuver. 

Regardless, you knew you couldn’t say no. Even though he knew you didn’t support the Pierce acquisition, you were a valuable asset and that could potentially be beneficial for both parties. Besides, the Pierces were a powerful family. Having them as allies would be good for you.

You were lounging on the couch beside Shiv and Tabitha when Roman strode into his father’s house, bowing down dramatically.

“How was summer camp?” she teased her twin. 

“Hm? What’s that? Didn’t catch what you said. I’ve been down in the salt mines for so long with my fellow Johnny Lunchpails, I no longer speak One-Percent,” he said when he bent down to kiss Tab’s cheek.

Snorting, Shiv retorted, “You were slinging candy apples, Rome, not digging the Panama Canal.”

“I’ve seen the world for how it really is, Siobhan, and it has changed me! I’m a kettle corn shoveler, here to show you frilly clit-flickers the truth. Hullo, Y/N. You look lovely.” He patted your cheek thrice, and you swatted his hand away before the fourth. A part of you had been worrying for the past few days about your relationship with Roman. Would things change after what had happened over the phone? Or was it all just… no big deal?

To your relief, the two of you seemed to be just the same as before. 

“Hey, Rome. Nice to see you’ve been so… humbled. Tell me, if I were to ask you to do my laundry, would you know how?”

Tabitha cracked up at your words and she nudged at your knee humorously. 

Roman rolled his eyes, muttering something about how he wouldn’t want to touch your tighty whities anyway, and scuttled off to greet Marcia and Connor. Only then did Logan come in, Kendall in tow. His little meat puppet.

“Alright. Cars are waiting—but first, some announcements. Frank, if you wouldn’t mind?”

Logan’s right-hand man stepped forward to address the group. “As you all know, the good news is that the Pierces are entertaining our offer, but bad news—they’re inquiring about your moral character, hence this weekend.”

“They want to look us in the teeth,” gruffed Logan.

Frank nodded. “Right. They want our 24 billion, but they also want to be able to ensure the integrity of their news outlets into the future.”

“Mmh, to ensure everything goes smoothly, we’ve prepared a few do’s and don’ts for the weekend,” said Gerri, pointedly staring at Roman. “Topics to stay clear of: Ravenhead, ATN, Israel, Brightstar, and the Cruise’s rumor mill. Steer onto: gossip, investments, art, movies, literature… tittle-tattle. Wider cultural interests.”

“Oh, and two drinks maximum,” Frank added. “They’re not big drinkers.”

Tilting his head, Roman drawled, “That’s okay. Nobody here has any glaring substance abuse issues that almost brought down the company, right?” He lolled his head over to Kendall, shooting him a wink.

Logan went through a few more details about Tom and ATN and Rhea, which certainly raised a few apprehensions. 

“Thanks for all your help,” said Logan. For a moment, his eyes landed on you. You wondered if he had considered that you’d purposefully sabotage this weekend to stop the deal from going through. Or maybe he knew you were his loyal lapdog, no matter how far he kicked you. Or maybe he simply wanted you there for diversity points. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. “We need this. Bagging Pierce is the key to our proxy defense. And the defense is life itself. See you at Plymouth Rock.”

Once the helicopters landed onto Pierce's land and everyone was filed out into the vast green fields, Logan turned to his group and gestured for them to smile. He’d even gone out of his way to brush a stray piece of lint off of your coat for you whilst passing by. 

“I am smiling!” Roman haughtily protested when his father gave him a pointed glare.

“Yeah, not like a pervert,” said Shiv.

You grinned, laughing out, “That’s just how he looks, Shiv.”

“Hardee-har-har,” Roman spat out. Then, he watched as Logan linked arms with both Marcia and Shiv. “Wow, Jesus. Look at Papa Smurf. Should I be doing that with you guys?”

Both you and Tabitha glanced at each other, before walking onwards, flat out ignoring Roman. 

The Pierce family was waiting not too far from the helicopters, greeting everyone with apprehensive yet kind smiles. 

The woman who spoke had soft eyes and a round face. Not at all intimidating in stature, but you knew better than to judge a book by its cover. “Welcome to Ternhaven! Our city on the hill. I’m Nan Pierce—it’s nice to meet all of you. I think we’re going to have fun getting a look at all of you, won’t we?”

Both families drew nearer as everybody exchanged polite greetings. You shook hands with about half a dozen people, trying your best to keep up with names and faces. Once at the estate, someone had taken off your coat and offered you a glass of water before you’d even taken three steps inside. 

It was certainly a beautiful home. It felt more lived-in than Logan’s houses, with its abundance of paintings and framed pictures on the walls. The furniture was warmer and cozier—a stark contrast to Logan’s preference for sharp edges and monochrome colors.

Roman came up to your side and pointed at a Latin phrase inscribed into the archway. 

“In veritate triumpho,” he read aloud. “This wine is triumphant? No—your vagina trumpets!”

Passing by, Gerri sharply hushed him just as your shoulders began to shake with mirth.

“I triumph in the truth,” you told him. 

“Honesty is the best policy around here,” said a dark-haired man, appearing from seemingly nowhere. You heard Roman mutter Jesus H. Christ, beneath his breath, but you discreetly pinched his side before he could say anything else. You faintly recognized the man as Peter Pierce—a cousin of Nan. He’d been overly enthusiastic with his handshake, watching you with gleaming curiosity, complimenting you on your outfit. 

You weren’t blind. You knew attraction when you saw it—and Peter wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding it.

“So… where’d you learn Latin?”

“Self taught,” you told him, smiling politely. “I’m not fluent. I just know a few bits and bobs here and there. Tried to learn during my college years.”

Before Peter could respond, Roman motioned gagging. “Barf. I’m gonna go see who Tabs is flirting with. See you nerds later.”

He slipped away, leaving you alone with Peter, much to your chagrin. 

The man was nice enough, sure, but he was being very obvious with the way his gaze lingered a tad too long on your chest. And when it wasn’t there, he was ogling your lips. It was a bit unnerving. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you, you know,” said Peter, arms crossed. 

“And I know next to nothing about you,” you airily responded, trying your best to keep your smile natural, though it proved increasingly difficult with each passing second.

“Well, that can be remedied, no?” he asked. 

You internally cursed at his forwardness. “Sure, yeah. Sounds great.”

And off he chattered, prattling on about his time with his company and what he studied during university, occasionally asking for your experiences as well. You only paid him half a mind, keeping the other occupied with observations of everybody else in the room. How Shiv had somehow managed to insult someone already, how Connor was talking about his presidential campaign with someone who so clearly didn’t agree with his views, and how Roman was guffawing at something Naomi and Tabitha were discussing.

“And what about the tabloids on you?”

“I’m sorry?” you asked, snapping your attention back onto Peter. 

“The tabloids about you and Roman. A lot of them discuss the two of you as a pair.”

Shrugging one of your shoulders, you shook your head. “Those are just baseless rumors.” You thought back to how you and Roman jerked off to each other through the phone. Not baseless at all, it seemed. “Roman and I are friends.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

Peter smiled. A part of you felt bad for stringing him along in such a way. He seemed like a nice enough guy, if you didn’t count all the uncomfortable ogling. “I just feel like we have a connection, you know? Do you feel it, too?”

“Mmh. Yeah, I’m feeling it.” You chanced a glance to Roman, who was staring straight at you with an impish grin. He saw right through your little facade—he knew you were miserable, and he was enjoying the shit out of it.

“That’s so good to hear. I knew you were different the moment I set eyes on you.”

“Wow. You really do have a way with words. Edgar Allen Poe up in here,” you joked loosely, trying your best not to sound deadpan. 

“You like Edgar Allen Poe, too? God, you’re like—fricking perfect for me. Excuse my French.” To your horror, Peter reached out to clasp your shoulder, steering you to a more quiet part of the room. “Tell me more about yourself. Things I don’t already know from the tabloids. What was it like growing up around the Roys?”

They were more of your family than your actual parents. They were the bane of your existence. They were everything to you. 

Before you could vocalize any of your thoughts (or, some poor, watered-down rendition of them), Logan shepherded the Waystar side of the group into another room for a short, private talk. You let out a long sigh as soon as you were far away enough from Peter, feeling your muscles loosen up. God, that man really did make you stiff in all the worst ways. 

“I think it’s going pretty well,” Roman said once everyone began filing through the door. “I mean, nobody’s fucked Nan or killed her cat by accident, so I think we’re doing pretty good.”

It seemed Logan didn’t quite agree, because he stormed up to his daughter, angrily demanding, “What the fuck did you say to Mark? Making cracks about his PhD?”

“It was a joke! He laughed.”

Frowning, Logan continued on, “He’s a yes, Shiv. He’s solid. Why are you even bothering him?”

The group began to then argue about Maxim, who Connor was supposed to persuade into the yes territory of the acquisition—which he was clearly failing.

“Cut the horseshit, know your roles!” barked your godfather. “Shiv, I want you on Nan.”

“Okay, Dad, we don’t have to be so schematic,” she protested, but her words went largely ignored.

Logan rounded on Roman, standing beside you. “Romulus. When you laugh, please do it at the same volume as everyone else. We didn’t get you from a hyena farm.”

“Thanks, Pop,” said Roman. You frowned, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly.

“The good news is that Nan seems to be spending money in her head—but she could still be swayed by her family, so every cousin counts,” Gerri added.

“Everybody, stay in your lanes. Who’s on Peter?” asked Logan.

“I got it, Dad,” said Kendall.

Quirking a brow, Frank said, “Actually, Peter seems to be rather taken by Y/N. I think it’s a good idea for her to keep him entertained. He’s worried the rest of us are barbarians.”

You crossed your arms uncomfortably, but nodded with a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, uh, sure.”

“Pimp her out, why don’t you,” scoffed Roman. 

“Good. Everyone got their person? Let’s go, people. Stay focused, stay sharp!” barked Logan, and everyone began to pour out of the room at his dismissal. 

Roman clapped a hand on your forearm. “Hey, uh, if Prickly Pete there does anything—” He made an unintelligible noise while pulling a sour face. “You know the drill. Stop, drop, and roll.”

“That’s for a fire, Ro.”

“Yeah, but it’ll freak him out enough to leave you alone.”

You spared him a sarcastic smile, shaking your head. “Great advice. Thanks.”

“No, but seriously—just say you have to go to the bathroom or something. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“Okay, Sauron,” you chuckled, shoving him away. “Go. Go and use your wily charms to seduce Naomi into making a terrible decision.”

It was his turn to offer you a lopsided grin. “That’s what I’m best at. Influencing women into years of regret.” With a click of his tongue and a wink, he was off.

 When you turned around, Peter was already waiting for you with an expectant expression. Ugh.

This was going to be a long weekend.

The Pierces were a strange family. Who the fuck recited poetry as grace before dinner? Nonetheless, you clapped with a polite smile once Naomi was done with her little poem. Roman rolled his eyes none too discreetly and you kicked at his leg beneath the table. 

On your other side, Peter didn’t hesitate to dive into yet another lengthy conversation once everybody began eating. 

“I like to have three novels and a memoir going at once,” said the man with a flirtatious smile. “It’s like natural selection.”

You forced a laugh—one that sounded genuine to everyone but the Roys, who knew you well enough by now to know that you weren’t amused at all. 

“Hm. I think it’s rather redundant to pit literature against each other in such a competitive fashion. Art is art is art, no?” you responded, quirking a brow as you forked a portion of salad onto your plate. 

You’d hoped that your comment would deter Peter from talking more, but your challenge seemed to only invigorate him. 

“A bit of healthy competition in a given field never hurt anyone. Pushes people to create better things,” he said, leaning closer to you.

“Mm, well, respectfully, I disagree. I think art—literature, especially—can blossom organically, just for the sake of it. The idea that creativity flourishes under competition is, frankly, just capitalist propaganda,” you said. 

To your dismay, Peter tilted his head and quipped, “Isn’t that a bit ironic, coming from you? Goddaughter of one of the richest men in the world?”

Your eye twitched. Beneath the table, Roman nudged your foot. 

“It doesn’t matter who I am. My point still stands, no?”

“I suppose we can just agree to disagree. I still enjoy reading several pieces at once… maximum efficiency, right?”

Another fake laugh.

To your surprise, Roman swooped into the conversation, “Yeah, I hear you, brother!” he chirped, trying his best to sound like an intellectual normie—he wasn’t doing a very good job, so far.

Peter spared him a glance, which made him lean even closer to you. “Are you a big reader?”

“Me? Oh. Yeah, big time.” No, he wasn’t. Roman couldn’t even remember the last time he picked up a book and read past the first page. 

“Can you recommend anything Oprah isn’t pushing? Any new fiction?”

For a moment, Roman’s panicked eyes met your goading ones. He began to laugh, but cleared his throat when he realized that Peter was genuinely asking. 

“Oh, right, yeah, sure I can… I, uh, rather enjoyed The Electric Circus.” 

“The Electric Circus?” echoed Peter in a rather pretentious manner. “Who’s the author?”

“Oh, uh, shit! Who was it… it was uh, Timothy Lipton. Yup. That’s him.” Roman was a terrible liar. You were getting second-hand embarrassment just listening to him. 

Catching wind of her brother fumbling, Shiv asked, “Yeah? What’s it about, Rome?”

“Uh, it is… about a young man making his way through the world. Except in two different time periods, so it kinda switches back and forth between—uh, yup! And—and the circus part is like, you know, a metaphor.”

Shiv narrowed her eyes. “For what?”

“Ugh. For the anxiety of modern life, Siobhan.” Roman only ever called his sister that when he tried to provoke her, or when he was exasperated with her antics. “Ask Y/N. She read the book. Ask her.”

Incredulous, you swung your gaze from your food to him, brows pulling together.

“You’ve read The Electric Circus?” asked Peter. His phone was in his palms. “I’m not seeing it on Google… Are you sure that’s what it was called?”

You began to fumble with your words, internally cursing Roman for throwing you under the bus, as well. God, he was going to owe you a million favors from now on. 

“See, uhm, it was a private little thing, uh—it hasn’t been published yet, exactly. Roman and I were just, you know, we were given the pages because we, uh, we were thinking of funding the novel ourselves! So, yeah… I don’t know why Roman would go and recommend that to you when it isn’t even available to the public yet.” You spared Peter a sweet smile whilst simultaneously stomping on Roman’s toes beneath the table. He retaliated by pinching your thigh.

“Oh. I see. Maybe when it comes out we can talk about it over a cup of coffee, then.”

Roman snorted. You sent him a half-hearted glare.

“Sure. That’d be great,” you told him before the man-child on your other side could come up with a rude retort.

Thankfully, Peter was quick to move on to another topic. Something about how mediocre the movies have been getting as of late. What an asshole. 

The conversation was cut off not too soon later by the white nationalist elephant in the room, as Rhea had so eloquently put it—ATN. Logan had vehemently denied sharing their fascistic beliefs, though the Pierces were clearly still skeptical of your godfather. Hell, even you were. 

There was more tense silence when Logan was questioned on whether or not Tom would stay on as head of ATN. The matter was never resolved, as he excused himself with a lame excuse of his sick dog having arthritis, pulling Shiv out of the room with him. 

You and Roman exchanged confused looks. 

By the time they came back, Tabitha was telling one of the Pierces about her willingness to help out her friend. “I’m thinking, like, if they can’t have a baby in six months, I’m just going to offer them my womb. Why not, you know? I’m young, I’m hardy.”

“Wow, Tabs, that’s really nice of you,” you told her genuinely, sipping on some water.

“Good for you,” agreed Marnie Pierce. “I had a friend who did that, it was so great—”

And then there Peter went, butting his fat head into the conversation where it was clearly not needed. “Uh, but if it isn’t too rude of me to ask, what about you two?” He gestured to Roman and Tabitha.

The blonde woman chuckled. “Oh, you mean us planning to have a baby? No, we’re not planning for a baby, because that would require us having sex!”

“Woah!” exclaimed Roman. “Hey, now.”

Peter grimaced. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Yes, you did,” said Marnie, and Peter only shrugged sheepishly.

“No, no, no, it’s totally fine, it’s just not our thing,” Tabitha replied. “We’re kinda like eunuch besties. It works for us.”

Scratching the back of his head, Roman cleared his throat. “She’s joking. Obviously. She’s kidding. We’re actually quite relentless in that regard. Just… fuck city out here.” 

You almost choked on the water you’d been sipping, the memories of a certain call you had with Roman resurfacing to the forefront of your mind. 

“You okay, Y/N?” Peter asked, lightly patting your back. 

“Fine. Just down the wrong pipe,” you winced. “And, you know, the idea of Roman and Tabs going to pound town doesn’t exactly whet my appetite.”

“Oh, don’t be jealous,” said Roman. “It’s unbecoming.”

Before you could snip back, the table fell quiet when Nan Pierce asked who would be taking on the company after Logan. Your godfather purposefully skirted around the topic, evading a solid name entirely.

Then, Shiv made the terrible mistake of announcing herself as the next CEO.

“Wait, uh, what’s happening?” Peter queried.

“Mmh. I think my life just ended,” Roman responded, looking every bit as shocked as you.

More flubbering from both Logan and Shiv. They were fucking themselves over, you could just feel it.

“You know what, maybe this dinner was a little bit premature. Seems like you guys are still working some things out,” said Peter. 

“No, uh, this is just some family hijinks,” Kendall tried to protest.

Marcia leaned in closer to Logan to ask, “Is this true?”

That seemed to be the last straw for him, because he yelled out, “Will you stop?”

More tense silence. Your foot rested over Roman’s, which was bouncing up and down rapidly beneath your heel. His hand rested on your knee, gripping a tad too tight.

“Well. I was just thinking that it’s such a beautiful, clear night out. Mark—would you like to guide us on a little after-dinner stargaze?” Nan asked.

And with that, came the end of the dinner.

“Did you guys know?” Tabitha asked both you and Roman as the three of you pushed away from the table to head outside. 

“No. No, I didn’t,” said Roman, still in shock.

You had a feeling, sure—there was no way it’d be Connor. Not Kendall, because of his recent endeavors with trying to take over the company, along with his substance abuse. It was between Roman and Shiv, and it didn’t take a genius to see that Logan didn’t think his youngest son was all that competent. That left only Shiv, after all.

“I didn’t know,” you simply said. 

The three of you strode out, leaving only Shiv and Logan left in the dining room.

“Those stars were really nice,” Tabitha said, lounging on the bed as Roman aggressively rummaged through the luggage in search of his toothbrush.

He was growing increasingly agitated about the idea of Shiv taking over the company, channeling his frustrations out on the poor suitcase for not presenting him his toothbrush on a golden pedestal. With a groan and a hand carding through his hair, Roman kicked at its side, sending the bag skidding against the wall.

“Ro,” Tabitha called. “I have a meeting on Monday, and I’d really love to deal with your neuroses and talk about it and everything but, uh, if you’re gonna lose your mind in here, I might just see if Naomi would let me crash in her bed.”

The man pulled on his face. He hummed once, then twice, as if he was deliberating over something.

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s fuck.”

A disbelieving smile danced across her face. She thought he was full of shit. “Yeah, totally. We do the sex so well, so that’s a brilliant idea.”

Clenching his jaw, Roman clambered onto the bed. “Alright. Come on. Come here, you hot fucking piece of shit.”

He tried kissing her, but his nose knocked into hers the wrong way, his hand gripped at her shoulder at an awkward angle, and his lips fell onto only the upper corner of her mouth, barely even counting as a kiss. 

“Woah, easy there, wolfman!” She burst into a fit of laughter, and Roman pulled away with a string of insecure apologies, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, which throbbed from the impact. 

“That was awesome,” he bit out, lying face-down on the bed next to her. “I’m so fucking good at this. Sorry.”

“Yeah, you were, like, squeezing my shoulder really fucking hard—”

“Wasn’t that sexy? How I just took you? Bet you orgasmed like five times in a row.” Roman rubbed at his eyes. “Do you want to, though? Like actually?”

She smiled. “Mmkay. Do I want to…? Make love?”

He frowned. “Nope. Wow. I just—” A groan and a sigh.

Features softening, Tabitha reached out to rub at Roman’s back. “Hey. I’m not… uninterested in solving you.”

Roman turned to face her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think we can make it, like… I don’t know… wrong?”

Tabitha was supposed to be dead. Which—and Roman thought this was quite obvious—meant that she wasn’t supposed to be wet. Now, there were a million and one ways for them to have sex and have it be wrong (like how it felt with you, maybe), but he’d suggested for her to play dead because… well, because he didn’t want it to feel like he was having sex with her. 

The very thought of fucking Tabitha didn’t sit quite right with him. He liked her a lot, and she was fucking hot as shit, but Roman just… couldn’t. He just couldn’t! Maybe she was right. Maybe they were better off as eunuch besties.

And so it came as no shock to both parties when the dead woman sex didn’t end up working out. Tabitha murmured that the morgue was closing for the night—and that she’d go wank off in the bathroom with her electric toothbrush as a makeshift vibrator. Roman apologized to her again, and curled up in the middle of the bed.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he have sex with his girlfriend, like any other fucking person would?

After five minutes of wallowing in his own shame, Roman dragged himself off the bed and did what he knew how to do best: he ran straight to you.

When there was a knock at your door, you were ninety percent sure it was Roman. The other, more terrified, ten percent anxiously wondered if it was Sleazy Pete coming to talk your ear off some more about the latest developments in artificial intelligence. 

To your relief, it was Roman, clad in a loose white shirt and soft, dark pants. 

“Hey, Romeo,” you greeted, pulling him in and glancing out the hallway, making sure nobody was around to see. “Man, am I glad to see you. I was really scared you were somebody else.”

He made a high-pitched, humorous noise, crossing his arms as you softly shut the door closed. “Peter? Oh, no. He’s too high and mighty to come chasing after you so early. He’s the kind to date the same person for ten years, accidentally cum inside one time and knock them up, which then keeps them chained to his side for the rest of his life. You’re good for now.”

“For now?” You were ready to make another quippy retort, when you noticed the way Roman scuffed his bare feet into the carpet, hand scratching at the back of his head. Something was bugging him. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“Huh? Nothing happened. Fuck off.”

Biting at the inside of your cheek, you reached out to him, holding both his hands within yours. “Rome.”

He parroted your name in an equally emphatic manner. 

You sat down on the bed, steering him to sit beside you. “Is this about Shiv?”

Oh. Right. He’d been so caught up with his guilt and shame over Tabitha that he’d momentarily forgotten about that other part of his life that was just majorly fucked over. 

Roman shrugged. “She fucked up bad, huh?”

You laid down, which prompted him to follow you, his head leaning on your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling together. 

“We all make mistakes. I think your dad probably led her on with a carrot painted with faux gold. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Your long-time friend made a noise of agreement. 

Comfortable silence stretched thinly between the two of you. Roman faintly noticed that your hair was damp—you’d probably taken a shower after the walk. After inhaling sharply, he caught a whiff of your body spray: sweeter than fucking cotton candy and it almost made him want to puke. Key word being almost—Roman rather liked the smell. Especially on you.

“You smell good.”

“Mmh. Thanks.”

You arched your back, bones popping with your movement as you mumbled under your breath sleepily. Something within Roman stirred. 

“I tried to have sex with Tabitha.”

Suddenly, you weren’t all that sleepy anymore. “Oh? How’d it go?”

“I…” Roman winced. Saying it out loud made it sound so much worse, for some reason. “I pretended she was dead.”

“What?” There was a mildly shocked laugh to your tone.

“Consensually!” he vehemently tacked on. “But, you know, she was fuckin’ dripping for me, so… took the experience away, I guess. I don’t know. I like her a lot. I just don’t… I don’t…”

“You don’t want to have sex with her?”

Another shrug. Roman blew out a drawn-out exhale. “Yeah. I dunno.”

“That’s okay, Rome. You don’t need to have sex if you don’t want to, and you shouldn’t feel bad about not wanting it. That’s literally the definition of consent.”

A part of Roman seemed to melt with your words. Your affirmation that there wasn’t something wrong with him (or, at least that one trait of his, he knew there were several other parts of him that you’d consider highly immoral) relieved him more than he’d care to admit.

“Well… I do want it. I just don’t want it with her, maybe?” His voice went all soft yet high-pitched at the end of the question.

Suddenly, you turned your head to him, your nose only a hair’s breadth away from his. 

“Well, Ro,” you began, husky and low, “who would you want it with?”

He didn’t need to say it. You knew already.

“Who do you want to touch you?” you murmured, hand reaching out to skim over his chest, his stomach, grazing over the very top of his pants and toying with the band of his boxers. “Who do you want to make you feel good, Romeo?”

A low whine caught within his throat when you leaned forward to kiss up the column of his throat, nipping at the skin lightly. All of his sanity seemed to fly straight out the window when your hand dipped within his boxer, tugging out his semi-hard cock, languidly stroking along the length. He moaned, chest rumbling with the sound.

Your eyelids hung low as you nosed along his jaw, which strained with how hard he was clenching his teeth. “Mmh, you’re a dirty little pervert, aren’t you? Sneaking away from your girlfriend to rut your pretty cock against me. You’re a mess and I’ve barely even touched you, Rome.”

It’d been so long. So fucking long since someone touched him this way. Since he’d let someone touch him like this. Since he wanted someone to touch him like this. It was all you. Just you, and only you.

And so, it was no wonder that he was nearing his orgasm already, twitching within your grasp as he whined louder. He murmured unintelligibly, pleading for something he didn’t yet know. 

“Can you be a good boy and cum for me?” you susurrated, planting kisses over his jaw, his cheek, the bridge of his nose. You didn’t dare kiss him on the lips—you weren’t quite sure if that would be too far for your peculiar relationship. 

When he came, a loud groan erupted from his throat, which was quickly muffled when you clapped a palm over his mouth, his eyes flew open to meet yours, pupils fully blown, almost eclipsing the molten brown of his irises. You stroked him through his orgasm, murmuring a mixture of degradations and praises all the way.

You pulled back when he began to jerk his hips away with overstimulation, panting against your palm. The sticky spend on your hand glistened beneath the lamp’s warm-hued light, and you brought it up to your face to kitten-lick his cum off his fingers, humming in satisfaction. The sight nearly made Roman pass out. He swallowed hard, propping himself up on the bed on an elbow.

Voice hoarse, he croaked out, “Thanks. Do you, uh… do you need…”

Yes. You wanted it so badly—you wanted him. 

But you knew Roman wasn’t really in the right mindspace to reciprocate anything at the moment. And the guilt that weighed heavy in your stomach would’ve only been worsened if you’d pressured him into anything that he might’ve been uncomfortable with. 

Baby steps. The two of you had been taking baby steps in your relationship ever since you were, well… babies.

“I’m fine, Rome,” you told him, ignoring the drenched throbbing between your thighs and crawling up next to him to lay down. “You can repay me in the future.”

The haze from his orgasm was beginning to clear away. Roman’s nose buried into your sweet-smelling hair. “With, like, a fuckin’ Baskin Robbins coupon or my tongue up your vagina?”

A soft laugh and a shake of your head. “Both sound wonderful,” you told him, curling up into his warmth. A wave of sleepiness overtook you. It’d been a really long day. “Night, Rome.”

“Night, fuck-face.” 

You might’ve simply hallucinated it in your sleep-addled mind, but you could feel a faint brush of lips on your forehead, along with a whisper of thanks. You fell asleep with a smile on your face that night. Roman had taken a picture (with the flash on, which made for quite unflattering lighting) and sent it to you the next morning, giggling his amusing hyena-giggle while the two of you were in the bathroom—with you brushing your teeth and him perched up on the toilet seat lid. It was a tender moment of picturesque domesticism—a life that didn’t quite seem right for the two of you, unless it was with each other.

The rest of the weekend at the Pierce’s estate was uneventful. Everybody had gone home thinking the deal wasn’t going to go through—Shiv had told you her dad fucked everything by refusing to name her as the next CEO.

But, to everyone’s surprise except Logan’s, Nan Pierce ended up calling only a few hours later that she’d sell. You weren’t quite happy with the turn of events, but you supposed that’s just how it was with Logan. 

He always won.

Argestes, a business conference for important folk all over the world, was just under a month later. It was a rather prestigious event, the itinerary always decked with the most ludicrously rich and fanciful activities, with only limited invites handed out. 

This was to be your sixth annual year attending. 

You arrived with Roman practically draped over you, much to the press’ delight. After he made a snide comment about how manipulative you could be when it came to business, you bid him adieu, off to fraternize and mingle with potential allies you might need in your pocket. You were just grateful not to bump into Peter Pierce—the last thing you wanted to do was have him glued to your side for the rest of the weekend. 

The next day, when you’d just barely stepped out of your room, you got a frantic text from Roman. It was a link to a journal article about the cruise incidents, followed by a series of question marks and an indiscernible mash of emojis. The last text gave you the room he and his family were in. 

You rushed off to meet them there, checking your constantly buzzing phone along the way to see texts fly from dozens of people: Shiv, Gerri, your colleagues, your friends, your coworkers alike. This wasn’t a good look for the company, that was for sure. 

When you finally got there, Roman quirked a brow at you. “Have you read this? Tell me this isn’t the greyest shit you’ve ever read.”

“Give me a second, I’ve barely even woken up, much less had time to read the article.” You settled in beside him, opening up the link to begin reading. From across the room, Logan was skimming through a physical copy, glasses on the very tip of his nose as he mumbled under his breath. Shiv was on the other end, waiting for everyone to finish reading. 

Finally, you reached the end of the article, slumping back with furrowed brows. “This is, uhm, serious stuff but it’s also really unclear what’s actually being thrown at the wall here.”

“Maybe this, maybe that bullshit,” Roman uttered.

“Rome, careful,” said Kendall.

“Is this one of those things I need a woman to explain to me why it’s bad?” His head knocked into yours. “You tell me—is it bad?”

Offering him a shrug, you huffed out a sigh and scrolled all the way back up to read it again. “It’s bad, it’s fucking awful someone had to go through this—but in all honesty, I expected far worse for a journal article to blow up this much.”

Growing frustrated, Logan ripped his glasses off. “What’s the protein?”

A man you only faintly recalled as Hugo Baker, part of the Parks and Cruises sector, replied, “They found a woman, Keerson. She was working the cruises back in the mid nineties, and name-checked Lester McClintock.”

Gerri nodded. “She says Uncle Mo asked for sex with her and the other dancers to get their contracts renewed.”

“So they fucked?” Logan asked.

“It says sexual exploitation,” clarified Shiv.

“Said subject of the article is dead,” you chimed in. “So the blame on Mo will effectively be shifted onto Waystar. Negligence of ethical conduct, cruise malpractice, so on and so forth.”

A moment of silence filled the room.

“Well, what can we do about it?” Roman queried. 

Gerri said, “There’s not a lot of specifics. It’s not detailed. Cold hard facts: it’s one woman in the nineties, not twenty women four years ago.”

This made Kendall’s face sour, as he pulled the bill of his cap down lower over his face. “Great. I’m glad we’re so good at doing victim math.”

“Yeah, well, Gerri’s just saying it doesn’t necessarily punch through,” Shiv defended.

The older brother gestured to his phone. “Sure, but… this is not okay.”

“We know it’s not okay, that’s why we’re preparing a corporate response,” the redhead bit back. 

The conversation moved on to PR, which Gerri claimed to be Preston. This was met with Shiv’s vehement disapproval—they were three disgusting, old white dudes who, in her words, would just claim the women to be money-grabbing sluts.

“Call me sociopathic but isn’t this a tiny bit quaint in comparison to the past few years?” asked Roman. 

You bit down on the inside of your cheek in thought. “I think they’re hyperfixating on this right now because they see it as a gap in the chainmail. Mo is dead. He’s not around to bear the weight of blame on his shoulders.”

“We’re being punished for the sins of others,” claimed Logan. “No one real gives a fuck.”

You narrowed your eyes at the hot take. 

For once, you seemed to agree with Kendall when he shook his head. “No, no, we can’t be seen to minimize. I think we need to loudly and quickly say that this is not okay.”

“The question is, what would make it go away the fastest? Do we say it’s something and fix it, or say that it’s nothing and fuck off?” Gerri asked.

“Something,” pushed Kendall. “There has to be consequences.”

To your frustration, Shiv shook her head. “Nope. Condemn and move on. It’s just good advice.”

“Not to be the only frilly-pink feminist in the room, but this isn’t something to sweep under the rug. It may not seem that serious at first glance because of the vagueness but a few dozen women’s lives were ruined, and that’s just barely what we know because of the NDAs. If we ignore it now, it’ll come back to bite the company in the ass later down the line. The least we can do is compensate them, no?” you said, crossing your arms.

Sinking into a wooden chair that creaked beneath his weight, Logan threw his hands up. “This is bullshit. It’s all about me! It’s not real, it’s not honest. They don’t give a flying fuck for these poor bitches. They hate me! And I won’t be giving them the satisfaction of giving in. So no—condemn and move on.” 

You wanted to bury your face in your hands and scream. But you didn’t. You stood still and expressionless. 

They started discussing the panel for later that day. The original plan was for it to be Kendall and Roman up there, but having a woman up there would be much more… fitting given the well-timed article’s release. Shiv haughtily refused, but softened upon her dad asking her if she would. 

She’d think about it. 

And with that, the group began to file out. 

The hours trickled on by and before you knew it, there was only ten minutes until Roman and Kendall were supposed to go up for the panel. You were helping Rome rehearse through what he was supposed to say, even though you didn’t agree with the direction they were taking with simply condemning—it was better than not addressing it at all. 

It was all going smoothly until Shiv burst through the doors, declaring that she wanted to be up there for the panel, much to both Kendall and Roman’s dismay.

“Come on, man. It’s panicky as fuck,” said the eldest of the three. “It looks… kind of fucking cheesy, to be honest. Like we’re throwing our token woman at it? The woman who’s not even in our company?”

“Well, it can’t be two men up there right now. It just—it can’t. Right?” Shiv rounded her gaze to you, and you shrugged half-heartedly. 

“I don’t know, Shiv.”

Standing up, Hugo suggested, “Well, the audience is just expecting Roys, so—maybe we stick at two and someone relaxes.”

Logan’s gaze fell on his youngest son. “Romulus.”

“What? You want to pull me? That—that looks like a humiliation,” your friend heatedly defended. 

“We could just say you got sick,” Hugo said.

Both you and Roman made eye contact and you nodded at him to defend himself.

“No. No, you can’t just fuckin’ bump me ten minutes before the panel. That’s bullshit! Fuck that. Respectfully, dad, why is Shiv even here?” he hissed.

“I was invited,” Shiv replied in a serrated tone.

Roman crossed his arms. “Yeah, well, no, I need to be out there. We need to hang together. You know, like, family.”

Rolling her eyes, Shiv drew herself to her full height. “Oh, so you wanna get Connor on the line, get him to come down here, too? Let him dog-pile on so no one’s nose gets put out of joint?”

“I’ll put your nose out of joint!”

“Oh, yeah, you should say that on the panel—!” Shiv pursed her lips. “If you wanna know what I really think—I think you should drop both of them and I’ll do it solo.”

This time, you were quick to say, “Shiv, I love you, but you’re not part of the company yet. To shove you up there alone would look like fucking… empty wokeness. Like we’re smothering the problem with estrogen and calling it a day.”

Roman nodded. “Pretty desperate, Shiv—exploiting the situation for personal gain, hm?”

The three siblings bickered some more until it grew quite cumbersome and repetitive. 

Two minutes until the panel.

Logan held up three fingers, and that was the end of that.

The panel was… certainly a panel.

It was a lot of dancing around the subject between Kendall and Shiv. You were pretty sure Roman had only said a grand total of two short sentences. 

“We’ll do whatever it takes, you know? We’ll do whatever anyone wants,” he had said. 

From where you were watching on a screen backstage, you face-palmed with a sigh.

By the end, Shiv had made the fatal mistake of implying that Logan should step down from his position, going so far as to call him an old dinosaur. 

It was a shitshow, painted over with glitter and rainbows. In all honesty, it was an embarrassment to even associate yourself with the company at this point. There went all your business schmoozing and fraternizing for the past two days—right down the drain.

“Nice. Bring your daughter to the slaughter. Did you tell the old dinosaur what you were going to do?” Roman asked his twin once the three siblings returned to the room you were in. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, ‘We will do whatever anyone wants?’ What the hell was that?” Kendall asked.

Shrugging, Roman clapped both his hands on your shoulders from behind, squeezing your tensed muscles. “Fuck it, right? It’s just words. There’s no press, anyway. Who gives a shit?”

It was then that Logan walked in, Marcia and Gerri in tow. Roman’s hands slipped away from you to go pour himself a drink and stand by his father.

“It was too much, Siobhan,” said their stepmother. “Dinosaurs?”

Ducking his head, Kendall nodded. “It was over the line. Shiv was over the line.”

Brows cinching, Shiv protested, “Oh, I think it was pretty clear that I was talking about—”

Roman interrupted after taking a long sip of champagne. “No, it was clear, yeah. You tortured the old dinosaur. Barbecued him alive—!”

In a blink of an eye, Logan swung around and back-handed his son straight across the jaw, bellowing out, “Don’t fuck with me!”

The hit rang loud and true across the room. Flesh on flesh, skin on skin, father to son, boot to dog.

Roman fell back with a muffled noise, and you were immediately shooting out of your seat to curl a protective arm around him, placing yourself between him and his aggrieved father. Commotion sprung out—Kendall vehemently yelling at Logan not to touch his brother as if he were a valiant hero, Gerri trying her best to quell the situation with reassuring words.

But all the noise was drowned out in your ears. It was just you and Roman.

It was like you were children all over again, watching with watery eyes as young Roman tried his best to pick himself up after Logan’s frequent beatings. You hadn’t even noticed that your eyes had welled up with a warbling film of stinging tears, heart slamming against your ribcage with staggering, uneven jolts. 

He hunched over, working his jaw and spitting into his palm a second later. 

A tooth fell past his lips, flecked with blood and spit. You could feel your lips twitch downwards as you tried your hardest not to cry.

Kendall flanked to his left, his hand on his brother’s shoulder, and Shiv stood in front of him.

“Rome—you alright?” they both asked. “You okay?”

He worked his jaw again, then shrugged off Kendall’s hand. He was in no mood to be coddled by anyone but you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fucking fine! Just fucking—leave me alone. I’m fine.” As you began to lead him away, he called over his shoulder. “It’s just a tooth. I’ll get another one.”

Once it was just the two of you in the hallway, Roman dropped the act. It hurt like hell, and he felt safe enough around you not to have to put up a front.

You tugged him into your room with a mildly haunted expression, fingers gripping far too tightly into Roman’s arm. He walked into the bathroom to rinse his mouth out. The water ran a dark shade of pink. 

As he gingerly began brushing his teeth with a spare toothbrush you handed him, you studied his reflection. He stared back, hating how worried you looked for him. 

“You want me to call a medic?” you asked, voice small. “There’s a few on site.”

Roman squinted at nothing in particular, humming. His tongue ran along the part of his gums that throbbed the most. It tasted like copper. A familiar taste. Nostalgic, even.

“No.”

“Do you need to be alone?”

“Fuck, no.”

You rolled a tissue into a tightly-packed bundle, telling him to bite down on it to stop the bleeding. He did as you told, but not without complaining about it tasting like ass. It actually tasted like nothing, but Roman wanted to make you smile. He hated seeing you so worked up.

With that, the two of you made your way out of the bathroom. You made him sit down on your bed and wrapped your arms around him, clinging onto him like a koala to a tree trunk. The both of you slowly kicked off layers of your clothes, trying your best not to break hold of each other in the process. Shoes first, then jackets, then pants, then button-ups.

You were left in a dark short sleeve and your underwear, and he’d tossed off all his clothes except his boxers. 

“The Argie awards are in an hour,” said Roman. His lips brushed against your collarbone as he rested his forehead onto the slope of your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have stripped down to nearly nothing if I was planning on going.”

“You’re gonna miss dinner. You’ll starve to death—and you won’t be allowed to blame me for it.”

“I have a banana somewhere in here. Plus—room service is only a call away.”

“Mmh. Mmkay.”

The tooth was still curled inside his clenched fist. 

“Wait,” you murmured against him, crawling off his lap to grapple for your wallet that you’d left on the nightstand. Roman murmured unhappily at the loss of warm contact, rubbing his palms up and down your legs. “I don’t really carry cash around these days but… I always keep a few spare coins in here.”

He watched as you fished through the slits, brandishing first a dime, then a nickel. Another dime.

Then you pulled out a quarter, grinning widely.

“I’m supposed to slip this under your pillow while you’re sleeping, but I have a feeling you’re not gonna let me get up for the rest of the night,” you whispered, crawling back to him and throwing a leg over his waist. He curled his own legs around you as well, leaning his weight into you. His head throbbed, his jaw throbbed harder, his heart throbbed the most. 

The cool metal of the quarter fell into his free hand. Then, he unfurled his fist. You stared down at the bloody tooth with unsure eyes.

“You have pretty teeth,” you told him after snapping out of your initial frozen state, pressing your nose into his uninjured cheek. “Even when we were kids, you had the prettiest pearly whites.”

Roman smiled, even though it ached to. “I remember you chased me around for my tooth once. Like a fucking freak.”

“Hm. You loved it, Romey.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” he said, trying his best to be dismissive. Then, he craned his arm to place the tooth on the nightstand. 

You yawned, and he followed closely after you.

“It’s only eight at night. We’re falling asleep at fuckin’... fucking granny hour,” he grumbled.

A giggle, cut off by another yawn. “I don’t blame us. It’s been a long day. Sweet dreams, Romeo.”

“Night, fuck-face.”

“You know I love you, right?” you whispered. A light kiss to his throat as he swallowed.

“Obviously. You’re infatuated with me. Obsessed, even.”

If one was infatuated-slash-obsessed with the other, it’d most certainly be Roman.

You hummed and grinned into him. You didn’t deny his words, merely huffing with amusement. “I’m going to take your tooth and sell it on EBay for a hundred bucks.”

I’m fucking in love you, he wanted to scream.

“Fuck off,” he said. “It’s worth a million bucks at least. Shut up—stop fucking smiling, you freak. Go to sleep.”

You settled against him some more, and drifted off a few minutes later, listening to his heart beat from his throat.

You weren’t entirely sure what had transpired during the last few hours of Argestes, but there was one thing made clear: Nan Pierce had called off the acquisition entirely. You had no idea what to think of the entire situation anymore. You were just… tired of it all.

Not long after, a team had called you in to record a video message for Logan’s big fiftieth anniversary at Waystar. You were given very little time to figure out what to say, and so your message was short and sweet:

“Hey, Uncle Logan. I think we all owe you a bit of gratitude for giving half a century of your life to the large, ever-expanding field we call media. You’ve always been a constant figure in my life—heh, more constant than my own parents. I couldn’t imagine where I’d be without you. Congratulations, and I look forward to the next fifty years working by your side.”

It wasn’t over the top, and only slightly sugar-coated with falsities. 

Once you stepped out of the recording booth, Roman shot you a grin. “Cocksucker,” he teased. “There you go—something you and Rhea can bond over.”

You prodded his chest with stiff fingers. “Shut up,” you fondly told him.

“How’d you even get all that in one fucking take? They had me say ‘I love you, Dad’, like, ten times in a row.”

Before you could retort back, the two of you bumped into Shiv, who was typing away furiously at her phone. 

“What do you guys reckon—you think Dad is boning Rhea?” she asked.

With a snort, Roman strode away to pour himself a cup of coffee. “Can’t wrap my head around that. Too steamy. Too hot.”

“You are a walking Freudian complex, you know that, Ro?” you asked him, bumping his hips with yours so he’d move over as you fixed your own drink. “I don’t wanna think about it, honestly. Who my godfather fucks is really none of my business.”

“You’re just jealous. You want daddykins all to yourself!” said Roman in a sing-song voice, which made you purposefully step onto his toes. “OW!”

The hot coffee jostled over the rim of his cup and some of it sloshed onto his chest. He sent you a glare and you kissed his cheek with a sweet smile before moving off to sit next to Connor.

“Yeah, yeah, but we should, like, talk about what this means. We’re… we’re all sensing the shift, right?” asked Shiv.

“Gerri says she’s the new thing,” said Roman as he took a seat beside you, obnoxiously leaning back to drape both his legs over your thighs.

Connor lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Well, it just so happens that Gerri was the new thing a while back.”

“Mmh—Logan made it clear that she was more or less there as a placeholder,” you said, sipping on your cup, watching the siblings over the rim. “Come on—there’s no way Logan is handing the company over to a woman, much less a woman older than fifty. It’s a shame, because Gerri really could’ve been a great CEO had she been given an actual chance.”

It didn’t go past your notice to see Shiv’s face contort with dismay at your words. Not too long ago, she’d been under the impression that Logan was handing the company over to a woman—her. 

“I just think we need to be careful,” she said.

“Awh, what’s wrong? You all wedgied up because Rhea stood on your back and worked your arms like an elliptical?” asked Roman, which made both you and Connor snort with amusement.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying, we should probably have a plan. You know, in case Dad does something rash.”

It was then that Connor was called away to record his message, and Kendall sauntered in just a minute later. His jacket and pants were noticeably rumpled and a pair of sunglasses sat on the bridge of his nose. Only assholes like Kendall would wear sunglasses indoors.

“Hey, what’s up?” he greeted everyone.

“You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday—you want us to think you got laid. Nice try.” Both you and Roman giggled like schoolgirls, which only had the older man rolling his eyes. 

“Well, have fun discussing killing Rhea—” you began.

“There wasn’t anything about killing—” protested Shiv.

“I’m gonna head out. Gotta get some work done before the flight to Dundee. Which, is so fucking over the top, by the way. Even my parents are going for this. They weren’t there for any of my birthdays in the past twenty years, but sure, let’s go to Uncle Logan’s celebration for his fiftieth year working at Waystar.” You nudged Roman’s legs off of yours so you could stand up. 

Rome’s eyes widened. “Your parents are coming? Damn. Rhea really went all out, didn’t she?”

You frowned. “Feels more like a personal affront to me than anything. Not looking forward to seeing them, but whatever. See you guys later.”

They all murmured their farewells and you patted Roman’s knee softly before heading out.

Dundee was cold. So cold that you had to wear two layers of thermal socks, and your toes were still cold. Roman made fun of you the entire way into the hotel room, joking about icicles forming beneath your chin. 

Once you were finally inside, you cranked your heater up as high as it could go, shedding all your layers off with a grateful moan. It’d been a long flight, and you were exhausted.

Roman laid down on your bed, lazily turning his head to follow your movements as you flitted to and fro around your room, unpacking your essentials.

“There’s better ways to warm up than hanging your wrinkled button-ups,” he quipped. One of his brows quirked upwards in an almost seductive manner.

You laughed at that, fishing out articles of clothing from your luggage. “You’re all bark and no bite, Roman. Besides—you literally brought Tabitha to this event. Where even is she, anyway?”

With a shrug, he remarked absentmindedly, “Oh, she’s off exploring all the joys of Scotland.”

“So… grass and sheep?”

He laughed his hyena-laugh. “Yeah, grass and sheep.” Then, he propped himself up on an elbow to face you properly. “Did you bring a date?”

“Ugh. Didn’t want to bring one. Not with my parents coming. It’ll be a nightmare.”

Something in Roman’s eyes softened. “I would’ve been your date if, uh, if I hadn’t already asked Tabs. To be fair, I asked her before I knew about your parents. I can kick her back to America right now if you ask.”

You paused in your ministrations. “Stop it. I like Tabs. She’s nice. And I wouldn’t have wanted you to be my date out of pity, anyway.”

Roman lifted his shoulders in a slow shrug, lips pursed. “It wouldn’t be pity if I wanted to.”

A beat of silence. 

You blew out a sigh. “I’m really here for the image. I’ll say hi to my parents, and then avoid them for the rest of the night.”

“I can help you with avoiding them.”

“Hm?”

“Gerri wants me to secure funding for Waystar to go private. As a… back up plan, in case everything combusts into fuckin’ flames. She wants me to target Eduard. Seduce him, or whatever. You can come with—butter him up with all your oozy corporate rank and that—that pretty face on your face. He wouldn’t be able to resist if we double-combo him.” Roman shot you a lopsided smile that only lifted one corner of his lips. You pushed away the urge to coo at the fact that he called your face pretty. “Or… you can flit around with all of Dad’s cocksuckers and awkwardly bump into your parents two hundred times before the waterworks break out and you make an embarrassment of yourself in the middle of the celebration.”

Done with putting away your clothes, you made your way to the bed and sat down beside him, your shoulder pressed up flush over his. 

“You’re a lifesaver, Rome. Yeah, of course I’ll come.”

“Yeah, yeah. You can repay me with a blowjob.”

You laughed, but a small part of you wondered if he was serious.

“Any other ways I can repay you? None that could, uhm, potentially warrant a lawsuit?”

Roman scratched at his chin in thought. “Yeah, actually—what if we got, like, married?” His voice went all soft and high-pitched. Lilting. Tentative. 

Your eyes widened at first, then narrowed thinly. “What?” you asked, partially incredulous. He was joking, right?

Right?

“Not like—” He gestured aimlessly. “Not like that. Not actual marriage. Like something equivalent to that—like me chaining you down in the basement, or something. Like me kidnapping you and keeping you hostage.”

“Romeo, what the hell are you talking about?” You sat forward, your face all the closer to his. “In what world is that equivalent to marriage?”

Nervous anxiety clawed within his stomach. “Jesus Christ, I’m not talking about marriage. Just something on that fucking level of us being tied together. I don’t know, you chop off my dick, I chop off your tongue, whatever the fuck. You know, like, you eat me, I eat you—like they do in Germany.”

You were pretty sure that’s not what they did in Germany.

“You know what I mean.” His eyes were pleading, asking you for something you weren’t quite sure of.

“I… I don’t think I do?” You took one of his hands. “Rome, what’s going on? You’re being… weirder than normal. Did something happen with Tabitha?”

Because he was in love with you and he had no idea how to say it. 

The answer to Roman was simple: he just wouldn’t.

Hastily, Roman pulled away from your touch. He rolled off the bed in one single motion, almost tumbling over his own feet as he scrambled to the door. He tried to ignore your crestfallen expression watching him put more distance between the two of you.

“No, nothing happened with Tabitha. Just, uh—just think about it. I’ll text you the details to meet Eduard. Bye!” He was already halfway out the door with his last word.

You screwed your lips to the side in puzzled exasperation, and blew out a heavy sigh.

The pub was nearly empty, save for a snogging couple near the back, and a few scattered about the seats casually sipping their ale as they watched the soccer match on the mounted television above the bar. Amongst them was Eduard, standing out like a sore thumb with his crisp suit and his dark, slicked-back hair. Just the sight of him seemed to cost money.

“My God, you smell like cotton candy—I almost want to lick your neck. Don’t you want to lick his neck, Y/N?” Roman asked instead of greeting him like any regular person would.

You shot him a half-hearted glare before sticking your hand out. Roman had always been one to overstep boundaries. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Asgarov.”

“Oh, please, Eduard is fine. And the pleasure is all mine,” he languidly drawled, eyes darting up and down your form as a pleased smile curled the corner of your lips. He firmly clasped your palm in a handshake. “I’ve heard much about you—general manager… the glue of the company, some people say. But Roman never mentioned that you were so beautiful.”

A large part of Roman’s insides bristled with hostility, an emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he plastered on a strained smile anyway. “Yup, yeah, forgot to mention. But, uh, yeah, thanks for coming, man. My dad’s going to be very pleased when he sees old friends and whatnot…” He waved the bartender over to order himself a pint, and added on a non-alcoholic beverage for you—he knew you didn’t like to drink during the day. Then, he caught sight of the television. “What’s this? Who’s playing?”

“Scottish,” replied Eduard, taking a sip of his own beer. “I’m thinking of getting in.”

 Your eyebrows raised a notch. “Mmh, smart choice. Lots of buried money in European soccer leagues.”

Eduard spared you a warm smile.

A frown crossed Roman’s features—he was starting to regret inviting you, even though he’d been the one to suggest you flirt him up. 

“Scottish kicky-ball,” he remarked. “Looks like two eunuchs trying to fuck a letterbox.”

His foul comment went largely ignored by the two of you. 

Eduard was certainly an attractive man, you thought once you watched his tongue draw out to run along his lips in thought. “I’m liking the look of Hibs,” he said, eyes trained on the television, flitting down to glance at you for a second. “Or Hearts. I’m undecided.”

“Hearts?” asked Roman. “That’s my dad’s team. The only childhood relic he can stomach.”

Hazy memories of seven-year-old you peeking over the expensive leather couches to see what your godfather was watching on screen came across your mind. It always cycled through the same three channels: ATN, soccer, and old black-and-white English films from the fifties. You never stayed for long, always darting out of the room in fear of him turning to see you there, watching along with him. But from the little that you did catch a glimpse of—you could only barely recall the green insignias and jerseys of the Hibs on the screen.

“I think he was a Hibs fan, no?” you asked, thanking the bartender when he slid your drink over. 

Roman scoffed. “Pfft—I think I’d know which team dad likes.” You didn’t bother trying to argue with him. After all, your childhood memories weren’t exactly the most reliable source.

With a half-minded hum, Eduard said, “I’ve got an agent in Spain. I buy the club, he loans me nine shit-hot players. Climb the ladder, take the second Champion’s League space, UEFA goes full European super-league, flip it, walk away.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds fucking slick, dude,” Roman replied, sipping on the frothy part of his drink. “Slicker than cum on a dolphin’s back.”

“You want in?” asked Eduard.

“Mmh, maybe. But before all that—can we talk about what we talked about before? You know, a major injection, or even taking us private. Have you talked to your dad?” asked Roman. 

A smile and a nod. “It’s a conversation we can have—I have total, three-sixty latitude to work on my father’s behalf.”

“Great. Yeah, cool. No, me too. Yup.”

He didn’t, but you wisely kept your mouth shut. 

“Weird, how much we’re the same,” said Roman, playfully punching Eduard’s shoulder.

“Yeah, you guys are practically twins,” you quipped, smiling over the rim of your glass. “Couldn’t tell the two of you apart.”

The dark-haired man tilted his head. “Buy them with me. We’ll split it fifty-fifty.”

“I, uh…” Roman spared you a look, silently asking you if he was being stupid with his rashness. “I don’t really see a downside, other than zero knowledge or interest in Scottish football. But, yeah! Hearts. Sounds fun.”

“Hibs,” you said.

Roman wrinkled his nose. “Hearts.”

“Hearts, it is,” said Eduard.

It wasn’t Hearts. 

After Kendall’s laughable rap song about—what was it—stanning his dad and calling him the OG, Roman had broken the news that he’d bought the Hearts club as a present for Logan on such a special day.

Logan fixed the three of you with a blank stare. 

“The Hearts?” he echoed.

Roman spread his arms, wiggling the tips of his finger in a sad rendition of jazz hands. “Mhm.”

“Hearts Football Club?”

Roman nodded.

Shiftily, Logan looked towards you. He always looked to you for clarification when he couldn’t understand his son—which was quite often.

“Uhm, Roman bought the Hearts for you,” you said, voice small.

“It’s your team, right?” Rome asked.

A beat of silence.

“I’m Hibs,” said your godfather.

You fucking knew it.

“You’re Hibs,” parroted Roman, his shoulders beginning to droop. “Really? Are you sure? I thought you were Hearts—I’m pretty sure you were Hearts, dad.”

Scratching at his chin, Logan softly said, “You know what, maybe you’re right. Hm. How would I know what team I’ve supported all my fucking life? Who knows—maybe I supported Kilmarnock. Or Fucklechester Rangers? I mean, how could I possibly know?”

Roman recoiled as if he’d been kicked. Eduard patted his shoulder, and brushed his hand along your lower back as he slipped away, chest burning with secondhand embarrassment. 

“Sorry, Uncle Logan, there’s just been a, uh, a miscommunication—” you said, hastily tugging Roman away. The two of you wove through the crowd until you got out of the large room, into one of the quieter halls. 

You chewed on your bottom lip, watching Roman frustratedly pace back and forth in front of you. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, he snapped out, “I thought he was fucking Hearts, dude!”

“... I told you, Ro.”

He scowled. “Ugh. Shut up.”

Before you could ask if he could maybe switch somehow, two figures pushed through the doors, coming to stand in front of you. You tore your gaze away from the flustered man, fixing your eyes on—

Fuck.

“It’s lovely to see you, Y/N,” said your mother. In her hand was a glass of wine, half empty. “You’ve grown quite a bit. Have you gained weight?”

She reached out, but you immediately stepped back, closer to Roman. 

After getting over your initial shock, you cleared your throat and tentatively responded, “Hi, mom. Dad.”

The couple gave you an awkward onceover. It’d been years since you last saw them, with maybe one or two texts exchanged every year for the holidays. Though, even that wasn’t a guarantee.

“We, uhm, we saw you rush out with Roman here and thought we’d say hello,” said your father, sparing you a terse smile.

“Wow.” Roman, unsurprisingly, inserted himself into the conversation. “And the parents of the year award goes to…”

“You thought you’d say hello. Jesus—I haven’t seen either of you in fucking forever and the first thing you do is nitpick at my appearance?” you growled, fists clenching by your side. “Listen, if you want to be in my life, then be in my life. But you can’t pretend that everything is okay when you see me and then promptly waltz off and disappear for another decade or two.”

Your mother sipped at her wine, at a loss for words. They glanced at each other, both wearing a mildly guilty expression, but had really nothing to defend themself with.

With an angry scoff, you stormed back into the room where Logan was about to give his closing speech, shoulder roughly knocking into your father’s as you brushed past him. 

Roman scratched the back of his head, left alone with your parents. 

“For the record, Y/N is doing fucking great without either of you. You know—crunching those numbers, being a goddamn messiah for the lower-level employees, fucking the boss. All that jazz.” He grinned and hum-laughed when their eyes widened in shock, and sauntered in after you. It wasn’t exactly that white of a lie. You’d given him a handjob and the two of you technically had phone sex—would those two activities put together constitute as one whole traditional, in-person fuck?

He’d come in to stand beside you and Tabitha just in time to hear his father make the announcement.

“... And I shall be appointing Rhea Jarrell as my Chief Executive Operator.”

The crowd burst into applause. Roman clapped with a faux-surprised expression. When he glanced at you, you were wiping the corner of your eyes with the back of your palm and hastily clapped along.

Once the cheers began to mellow away, Roman stopped clapping to lace his fingers through the gaps of yours, squeezing tight. Your eyes watered even more at the contact, but you squeezed back in gratitude.

There was an interview of  James Weissel on the television: a whistleblowing interview tossing Gerri, Kendall, and Tom into the stinking shitpot that was the cruise incidents, accusing the three of covering up McClintock’s actions. Logan had shut it off before anybody could finish watching.

Whilst everyone was busy prattling off about how bad of a situation this was, Gerri seemed to be the one lighthouse amidst the storm.

“I say we tell the truth,” she calmly said, adjusting her glasses to sit higher up her nose. “The family knew nothing of this. We throw Mo overboard. Mo, bad apple. Jim Weasel, bad apple. Spies a book deal—sotto voce, backed by Sandy and Stewy. All corporate fuckery, no real concern. In terms of historic shit? I say we give up Bill. He should’ve let us know what he discovered rather than cleaning up without telling us the details.”

Bill had been the old Tom before Tom was, well, Tom.

And so there was the strategy: letting Bill take the fall, and kill him off. It wasn’t… a decision you necessarily felt good about, but it was the least messy the situation could be.

Things felt like they’d be smoothed over, just for a little bit.

But then Siobhan came in, phone clutched tightly in her hand. “Gil is going to call for hearings.”

This stirred up quite a murmur in the room. Both Kendall and Frank sat up in their seats with incredulous questions on the tip of their tongues.

“Yeah, Senate Commerce. Probably House, too.” 

Gerri was on her phone in an instant. “Buckle up folks,” she said while scrolling through the news. “We’re going to get an invite to the national latrine. See who’s going to take a public dump.”

“Mr. Fuck is going to Washington,” Shiv sighed.

It was then that Logan let out an ear-splitting bellow of rage. It shocked both you and Roman into flinching. 

“NO! I CAN’T HAVE THIS NOW!” he screamed in distress.

There was a long moment of silence. 

In a leveled tone, you asked Shiv, “Who’s testifying?”

“Uh, well… well, they’d want Dad.”

Kendall quickly protested, “No, we can’t—we won’t let that happen—”

“Protect the egg chamber!” said Roman. Nobody could quite tell if he was being sarcastic or not. 

It was then that Hugo suggested Gerri and Tom to testify. The group went back and forth for a little while longer on what the play would be, but it was quite clear that everybody was already settled with Gerri and Tom going up there. 

To your surprise, Logan called for you and Roman out of the room. 

A part of you wondered if he’d beat Roman over the head with his fancy business shoe for buying the wrong soccer team. You certainly wouldn’t put it past him, especially in his already-agitated state. 

“I need both of your help,” he told the two of you once you were out of the room, lingering by the foot of the pristine staircase. 

“Need someone to run to the store for smokes?” Roman asked, his hands propped on his hips.

“This’ll go on all night… and it might not be okay,” your godfather said.

This made you tilt your head. “Will this really sway the shareholders into folding? It happened under our noses three decades ago, and the perpetrator is dead.”

“The very fact that we’re being called to testify will spook the shareholders. I’m on a knife’s edge.” He grunted softly as he lowered himself to sit on one of the lower steps of the cold staircase. “Ten bad minutes on camera, and that could be it. The end.”

Roman’s brows raised. “The end? Come on, Dad.”

“I need the two of you to chase down the sovereign wealth money,” said Logan.

You and Roman glanced at one another. Was he being serious? 

“Right. Uhm… I mean—that’s… it’s a cool idea, but it’d be a stretch, no?” Roman tentatively brought up. 

Logan leaned forward, shifting his weight onto his elbows, which were resting upon his knees. Though he had made himself physically smaller, he’d always be the biggest presence in the room. “We need that central Asian money. It’s a time out from the responsibilities of being a public company. That’s a fucking lifeline, if I’ve ever seen one.”

“They’d be taking on a massive amount of debt. That’s a… huge responsibility, Uncle Logan.” 

The older man snorted. “Which is why I’m making you go with him. Make sure he doesn’t fuck up. Keep it under wraps. And bring Karl and Laird with you, as well, for the financial matters.” There was a pause as he studied the two of you. “Can you do it?”

Roman scratched anxiously at the back of his head. “Fuck, Dad, I want to say I can. But, I’ll be honest—if it’s, like, really important… I mean, I can say I can do it—like one of those firefighters in the movies. But I don’t know if—”

“You act the fuckleknuckle, but you know… people like you.” 

There it was. A narrow slant of light. It wasn’t real—at least, you didn’t think it was—but it was warmth regardless.

Roman’s features twisted. “It’s a really big fucking deal.”

“Nah. It’s getting the right number from the right suit. Getting your dick in there is easy. Getting into bed—that’s the hard part,” said his father. “You can do it. Both of you can.”

You scuffed your shoe against the floor just as Roman’s nose twitched. 

“Yeah. Sure, dad, I got it.”

Logan pushed himself off the staircase, placing a hand on each of your shoulders. The light was warm, and far too addicting. He smiled softly. 

It wasn’t real, you had to remind yourself. It’s never real. But did that really matter? Did it?

“You’re brilliant, my dear. A real force to reckon with. I trust you to hammer the nail right on its head,” he said. 

You swallowed harshly. “I hope we won’t disappoint, Uncle.”

When he pulled away, he began to make his way towards the doors once more. “Keep me close,” he said. 

And with that, he was gone.

Roman let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. 

“Why does it feel like we just dug our own graves? I feel like I’ve got fuckin’ dirt in my eyes,” he lamented just as you leaned your head onto his shoulder. “You know, if the company ever kills you off, I’ll quit. I don’t know how I’d do it around here without you.”

“All bark, still no bite,” you quietly told him. “You wouldn’t leave the company. Not on your own free will.”

Like a caged dog: it was only able to escape if their owner opened the door for them.

“I’ll kill myself if they kill you. I mean it—I’ll eat a fucking silver bullet.”

“How romantic.”

“Mhm—we’re like fuckin’... Romeo and Juliet.”

He smiled, and so did you.

“C’mon. Let’s go watch the grown-ass men I bought kick around balls for a bit,” said Roman.

Eduard greeted you at the soccer team’s practice field with a kiss on the cheek, Roman with a firm handshake. 

“It’s good to see you,” you told him with a genuine smile. 

“Good to see you guys, too,” he replied. His expression was well-guarded behind a pair of dark shades. “With everything I’ve heard going down at Waystar, I was surprised you even showed up.”

With a shrug, Roman said, “I have nothing better to do, I promise. I’m gonna cut right to the chase here—do you think there’s any chance you guys have the muscle to take us private? Is that something that’s interesting to you and your dad?”

With nearly no hesitation, Eduard bobbed his head in an affirmative.

Shocked, Karl asked, “Really? That’s…”

Eduard spared the older man half of a grin. “Yes, we’re interested. It’ll look good as part of our portfolio, and we like the news expertise you can share.” Just as Laird began spewing off details to tell Logan, Eduard cut him off by saying, “Actually, Roman, Y/N—can you guys do it? The two of you make quite a team. You and your… bum-boys here can come to Turkey tomorrow? Pitch to me and my Dad?”

You and Roman exchanged earnest glances, as if speaking to each other telepathically. You were sure you could push back your work at Waystar for a few days to settle the privatizing deal. 

“Absolutely. I think we can definitely do that,” said Rome, with a pleased hum. Then, he turned back to fix his gaze on Laird and Karl. “Ain’t that right, bum-boys?”

 “Why Turkey?” you asked, brows raising. “I mean, I can pitch to you anywhere, but why, you know, all the way across the ocean?”

“There’s an investing conference in Bursa. Everyone will be there—we can get into it. Unless you have any objections…?”

Hastily, you shook your head. “No, no. This is great. Thanks for the opportunity.”

“No problem,” said Eduard, watching the ball fly across the field, landing into the goal. “I like you guys. Really.”

The coach called for the team to huddle up, allowing for the owners to say a few words. A part of you wondered if Rome even remembered the name of the FC he had bought.

“Great session, guys. And listen, for Saturday, you have the ability, you have the mentality. Watch that press doesn’t leave you exposed on the turnover, and you fucking got this. Rome?” Eduard turned to your friend, who hadn’t really prepared anything to say.

Roman fixed you with a panicked look, but you nudged him forward with a purse of you lips.

Scratching the back of his head, he awkwardly started, “Uh, yeah, hey guys! Really proud to be associated with all of you. Uh, well, what the fuck can I tell you that you don’t already know? You, uh, you got all this guys, don’t worry about it. ‘Cause you guys are a team, and, uh, when a team… is a team… it can’t actually physically be beaten. It’s impossible. So, go hard, go fast—uh, go you… lovely bastards.” The team glanced at each other and began to awkwardly clap, before Rome looked to you and said, “Anything else you want to add?”

“Me?” you hissed under your breath. “Rome, I’m not an owner—”

“Just say something—!” he whispered back, yanking you forward by the arm.

Stiff, you waved at the litter of sweaty, jerseyed men in front of you. “Hi. Yeah, I’m sure you guys know I’m not one of the team’s owners, but I was there during the business negotiations as Roman’s, uh… co-partner. All I can do now is wish you all the best of luck for your next match—get some rest, eat some good food, keep your eyes on the prize. And if any of you want to get in touch with Waystar Royco for any sort of PR pitches to get your face out there… Coach will have me and Roman’s contact details.” With a smile, you stepped back, shoulder brushing against Roman’s.

“Fuck you,” he muttered bitterly. “Did you rehearse that in your head or something? How’d you manage to perfectly squeeze business into a fucking pep talk?”

You grinned and pinched his cheek lightly. “Go hard and go fast, you lovely bastard,” you mocked, voice rife with fondness, chortling when he swatted your hand away.

Before you knew it, you and Roman (and the bum-boys) were in Turkey, pitching to Eduard and his team. You had tried practicing a little the night before, but Roman had tossed all the flashcards away out of part-frustration and part-cockiness, assuring you that things would be fine. 

Now, as he was speaking, he seemed pretty confident in his own words. The two of you made a good team, after all.

“Look at the cash flow,” said Roman. “We are undervalued. I think tech just had everybody shitting their pants about legacy media, but really, the wheel turns.”

You nodded with an emphatic smile. “It’s true. No matter how much content moves to streaming sites, people will always want to look for something physical. Something you can feel and experience outside of home—hence Waystar’s adventure parks, and films to experience in theaters.” You made great effort to skirt around the touchy subject of cruises at the moment. 

“Most tech is overvalued. We’re profitable. We’re real money,” Roman added, growing more assured of himself with your support. 

“Tech is always changing. Invest in one thing, and it’ll be outdated in a blink of an eye. Invest in things people will always need: news, broadcasting, life experiences… now that’s reliable.” Eduard flashed you a smile, as if he was already sold.

“This is a tremendous opportunity,” said Rome. “This is once in a lifetime. You get to buy into the US media landscape at the very top. The very top.”

Two of the men leaned forward to whisper indistinctly to one another. 

“It’s a lot of debt,” one of them said once he finally pulled away. “You sure you can pull it together?”

“Absolutely sure,” Roman said with a mild laugh, knowing things with money and debt were quite rocky at the moment, before pointing back at Laird. “Jaime here is the fucking master of leverage. He has structured some of the biggest LBOs in history.”

“Guilty as charged,” said the older man.

Before anyone could say anything else, the doors to the room opened, and a few men filed in, murmuring indistinctly to the security. Your brows pulled together upon seeing guns strapped to their forms.

Roman exchanged a worried look with you.

“Are they, uh… are they with you?” he asked Eduard, who got up off his seat to speak to them in hushed tones.

“Rome, they have guns,” you murmured as you placed a hand on his forearm, glancing back at Karl and Laird. “What’s going on?”

The atmosphere seemed to chill when Eduard turned back to the four of you.

“Hey, look, we’re good. We’re good. But, uh… we’re all gonna go with these gentlemen now, okay?” He raised his hands in an almost placating manner, as if trying to tame a nervous mare. 

 Roman pointed at the armed men. “We’re going with them?” He laughed nervously, wondering if this was one big, elaborate joke. “Uh, no… I don’t think we—uh, who are these guys, exactly?”

Genuine fear began to curdle in your stomach when you watched the security walk out. “Dave just walked out. Hey, Eduard? I just—I need you to be honest with me. Are we in danger right now?”

Eduard worked his jaw in thought. “We’re just going to go with them now. Okay? It’ll be fine.”

“No, uh, I just—Can I just ask what this is in regards to?” Roman stepped in, high-strung. “Is this about the meeting? Is this a business thing?” 

Did I fuck it up and put a loaded gun to my own head? he wanted to say, but bit his tongue before he could.

With a sharp tone, you asked, “Our security guy, Dave, he just walked out with them. Where’d he go? Is he coming back?”

“Dave’s not coming,” said Eduard with pursed lips.

“He’s not coming?” Roman parroted. “Uhm… I would actually really like for Dave to come?”

“Dave is downstairs, we’ll go without him,” Eduard said in a calm tone. “Dave is a security risk. It’s better with these guys, okay?”

“Well, I know Dave, and I sure as hell don’t know these guys so… I think I’d prefer Dave—” you began to say, but was quickly cut off when Eduard put a hand on your shoulder and began leading your tense form out the room, Roman hot on your heels.

“It’s all good. It’s all under control,” Eduard murmured, though you highly doubted it. “There could be a situation, but we’re being looked after.”

A frown crossed Roman’s expression. “Oh, great. We’re being looked after. Fucking great. Laird—can you call Dave?”

They pulled out their phones, but the vested men with guns took the devices away just as quickly as it was pulled out. One stood in front of you with an expectant expression, and you complied with no resistance, handing him your phone, though not without a scowl.

“Great. They took my phone, and now I can’t contact my security, and now we’re going to die,” Roman said. When you looked at him, you could see genuine, restless fear dance over his irises. You didn’t quite know what to say, so you simply squeezed his arm as the two of you walked along.

The armed men led all of you to a crowded hotel lobby, where there seemed to be more hostages, more armed folk in similar attire. 

“Fuck,” Roman mumbled under his breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn’t business, is it?”

“Doesn’t look very business-y,” replied Karl.

When someone passed by and their gun brushed against your arm, you flinched back into Roman, your lips pulling back in a snarl. “Eduard. Fuck—Eduard, where the fuck are you taking us?”

“Just relax. This is normal,” he said, shiftily.

Roman scoffed. “Oh, yeah. This feels really fucking normal. Is this—are these guys terrorists? Where’s my fucking security guy? Where’s Dave?”

For a moment, Eduard seemed at a loss for words. You could feel dread pile up in your stomach. “It’s just… it’s an administrative action function,” he reluctantly said.

“Mm, yeah, great, and what exactly is that—?” Roman began to ask, before halting his own question when he trained his gaze on a struggle across the lobby. “Oh, wow, look at that. Guy not being allowed to leave the hotel at gunpoint. That’s—uh, yeah. So what’s… what’s this administrative action function?”

Pursing his lips, Eduard finally fessed up, “There’s just a gathering here now, of us and some other investors, and—”

“Men with guns?” Roman impatiently chirped.

“Yeah, yeah, that, and their guys are some kind of… anti-corruption kind of guys and this is like—it’s like their conference. Or, uh, a party of some sort. And we’re all invited.”

Your eye twitched. “That’s really lovely, but uh, what if I don’t want to go?”

A scream from somewhere over the crowd echoed through the lobby. Glass shattering followed soon after. Karl paled and he anxiously picked at a hangnail.

Eduard sighed. “It’s the kind of party where you have to go. It would be… rude.”

Roman stared at the ground, at nothing in particular. “Well, uh, I guess I wouldn’t mind being just a tiny bit rude.”

It was becoming more and more clear that no amount of protests or questions would get you out of this situation—not with every exit manned by armed personnel. The hostages in the hotel were soon herded into a large hall, empty save for bare white chairs for people to sit on. Eduard was led into a different room, and you briefly wondered if that’d be the last time you ever saw him.

You blew out a breath as you took a seat. Roman was quick to snare Laird into playing a multitude of games, like rock, paper, scissors, eye spy, and fuck, marry, kill. You didn’t pay much attention to them, instead trying to figure out what you’d do with yourself once you got out of this situation. One thing was for sure: your therapist was going to have a field day hearing this. 

“Where do you think they’re taking them?” you asked the men beside you when they began grabbing hostages and shoving them out the doors. 

“Doesn’t look like they’re gonna be taking a tour of the spa,” said Laird.

“My advice,” Karl huffed, looking awfully sweaty, “just don’t look at anything. If you don’t look, you’re not a witness.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Wonderful. Brilliant advice, Karl. At least you didn’t tell me to just take it if they decided to shove their dicks into my mouth.”

“Woah!” exclaimed Roman, eyes widening. “That’s not going to happen. Right? That can’t happen.”

You spared him a shrug, slumping back against the chair. Though, you were quick to sit up straight again when Eduard emerged from the doors, making a bee-line for you and Roman.

“Hey, guys. It’s all good. Things are good. So, uh, my president’s daughter’s husband has asked him to take closer control of some key assets. It’s anti-corruption, but it’s a bit of a power-grab. Some Turkish acquiescence, but it’s all in play.”

If you had to be honest, you understood very little of what he was saying. Whether it was because of your panic-hazed mind, or because he was merely being ambiguous, you couldn’t quite tell.

“Not to, uh, make this all about us…” began Roman, tentative, “but are they going to shoot us at any point?”

“No one is getting shot,” assured the bearded man. “Look, it’s complicated, but with the Zeynal here—there’s some interest about the deal.”

Deal? 

Both you and Roman glanced at each other. 

“Uh, fuck. Okay. The deal, sure,” said Rome.

“One thing they wanted clarity on was—how could they be sure the deal wouldn’t be blocked by your government?” Eduard asked.

You stuck your tongue against your cheek when Roman shook his head, “Well, it wouldn’t. My father has a lot of sway. I mean, he can’t lock up his opponents in a hotel, but, well, he kinda could.”

“And you’re the target of another bid? Won’t that be a problem?”

Sandy and Stewy. “Not a problem,” you quickly said. “They’re all bark, very little bite. If the price is right, we can easily reach a settlement before the shareholder meeting.”

With a nod, Eduard patted your knee, and he got up to leave—talk to his associates once more. 

“That went well,” said Laird, mildly surprised. 

“Yeah… a little too well,” Roman mused.

Hours later, Eduard returned, calling for the four of you to follow him.

It was a pitch. A messy pitch—one you clearly weren’t in the right mindspace for. One where the audience had clear smudges of coke lining their nostrils, dusting their tables. One that had a lot of money thrown into the empty promises, accompanied by high smiles and wandering eyes. It made you feel sick, and Roman clearly wasn’t a fan of it, either. Laird seemed to be satisfied with the mutual agreements, though. He heard money, and he immediately thought he was safe.

But the agreements didn’t feel quite real. None of it felt real. It was all bullshit, you wanted to yell at their face. Being held at gunpoint to play business in front of the coked out billionaires was not your preferred method of saving the company, especially when none of the settlements felt cemented. This wasn’t safe money to bet the entire company on—it might’ve not been money at all, in fact.

By the end of everything, the ambassador had arranged for a plane to finally get you out of the country. You fell asleep as soon as you sat down in your seat, the long hours going without sleep finally catching up to you. Roman curled up in the seat beside you, his head on your shoulder. He stayed awake the entire flight, listening to your steady breaths.

The Mediterranean. The Roys were on a fancy yacht in the Mediterranean.

It would’ve sounded like a pleasant getaway, if you weren’t dead-tired, having just returned from being held hostage at gunpoint. You just wanted to go home. Logan, however, wanted you and Rome by his side—and who were you to say no to the top dog?

As the speedboat skidded to a stop by the yacht, cheers erupted from siblings, along with Gerri and Frank, Greg and Tom. Roman slid his sunglasses on as he clambered onto the larger boat’s deck. 

“Here they are! The heroes of Asia!” exclaimed Shiv, a flute of champagne in hand. She was the first to greet you, taking your hand and helping you out of the speedboat. After a kiss to your cheek, you spared her an exhausted smile.

“The lions of Turkey! Welcome back, guys!” chimed Greg. He leaned down to embrace his cousin, but Roman was quick to push his face away. Greg didn’t dare try to hug you after that, merely waving from afar.

Frank clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Back like Odysseus. Did you guys ride out on sheep?”

Snorting, Shiv added, “Yeah, I heard you took down an entire army alone, bro.”

“That would’ve been really traumatizing if you weren’t already so fucked up,” Gerri told Roman, who simply frowned.

“Yeah, who’d you suck off to get out?” Kendall inserted.

Tom smiled widely from behind Shiv. “You were staying at Four Seasons, right? How did you guys escape? Did you—did you build a glider out of a caesar salad?”

Roman squinted at nothing in particular from behind the dark lens of his sunglasses. “Uh, you know what? It was actually fucking scary and we thought they might kill us, but yeah…” The tips of his fingers wiggled in a poor rendition of jazz hands. “Hardee-har-har, caesar salads, har-har. So funny.”

An awkward silence ensued between the small group. You scritched at your neck with a wince, wanting nothing more than a shower and a nap.

“Sorry, dude. Seriously,” said Kendall.

Roman snorted. “Yeah, no. They just raped me a little, but I’m no hero. They stuck their cocks down Y/N’s throat, too. Tell them.”

He nudged you and you shook your head tiredly. “They didn’t do that.”

“See? It got so bad that she trauma-blocked the memories. Shame on all of you,” he said, propping his fists on his hips. 

Feeling mildly guilty, Shiv had the gall to rub her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Sorry, Rome.”

“It’s fine. I’m just tired, or whatever. It was funny, actually. Karl almost shat in a bucket and I have it on my phone, so we can fully humiliate him in our daily jerkfest later,” said Rome, tugging you to sit down with him on a large white seat.

“So how’d it all go, business-wise?” Connor asked, eyeing the both of you curiously. “Or was that forgotten?”

Before either of you could say anything, Laird stepped in, shaking his head with a wide smile. “Oh, we can’t say anything about that. Confidential stuff. But they—they did good.”

“Oh! Okay. Promising!” Connor exclaimed, shooting the both of you a grin. “Congrats, you guys.”

Unease crackled between the two of you. When you locked gazes with Roman, he merely lifted one of his shoulders in a shrug, lips pursed. The deal probably wouldn’t go through. It was all empty promises, powdered with a layer of cocaine. 

The two of you failed. And maybe that was okay.

Your hand found his, and his head knocked against yours. He drank the beer Shiv handed him, and you drank in the salty air of the sea.

After you’d finally managed to pry yourself away from Roman (or, more accurately, Roman away from you), you had yourself a nice, hot shower, and a long-overdue nap. When you drowsily blinked back into consciousness, it was early afternoon, the sun still high up in the cloudless sky. A part of you wondered how you hadn’t just slept through the entire day.

You cleaned yourself up and changed into loose loungewear, heading down a story of the yacht, where you caught sight of the Roy siblings hanging by the pool (minus Connor, who was discussing matters of the play).

Roman waved at you limply. “Hey, sleeping beauty. You were knocked out for a while. I poked you in all your ticklish spots and you didn’t even stir.”

With a sigh, you curled yourself up into the cushioned spot beside him, Shiv on your other side. On her right was Tom, who had his gaze trained on Greg on the other side of the pool—the Roy’s cousin was… getting his toes looked at by the medic? You weren’t sure, and you didn’t quite want to know.

“You know, if you snuck into my room while I’m asleep and prodded me like a corpse, at least don’t fess up to it. You weirdo,” you said once you finally tore your gaze away from Greg, wrinkling your nose at Rome fondly.

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it,” Roman whistled, to which Shiv let out a loud groan of complaint. 

Sloshing water from the pool drew your attention to Kendall. “You good, Y/N? Sorry about—if I was, like, insensitive earlier—”

“It’s fine,” you quickly replied. “They were never going to shoot us, anyway. It was all just… theatrics.”

Theatrics. Puppets and strings.

Kendall smiled loosely. 

“So, uh, how was DC?” you asked the older man as he leaned against the rim of the pool. “They had it on the TV for a bit when we were waiting to give our pitch.”

He nodded, water dripping from his hair. “Yeah, it was—it was pretty fucking real.”

“You did good,” Roman chirped, adjusting the sunglasses on his nose. 

Scoffing, Kendall shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. And what? I did good for—for a crackhead? For a moron on crack?” His voice was lilting with incredulity.

“Nope. You did good, Ken,” he said.

Shiv nodded. “Yeah. You killed it.”

Kendall wasn’t used to genuine praise from his siblings. It was usually edged with an insult, laced with sarcasm or ire. 

“It was Tom that, uh… that didn’t really persuade everyone quite as well,” you said, sending an apologetic grimace to Shiv’s fiance.

“You’re being too nice. He shat his pants and puked all over the floor,” Roman huffed with an amused smile. 

Tom pulled a cross face. “I didn’t—!” He drew in a sharp breath. “You know, a lot of people are saying I was deadcatting. Yeah. So like—dead cat on the table. Everyone’s looking at this dead cat, and not… not talking about your dad.”

Shiv pursed her lips. “Right. Sure, yeah, you drew the fire. Yeah.”

Both you and Roman exchanged humored looks. 

“So, what’s going on with Rhea? She’s out, right?” Roman asked a beat later.

“Mhm. Melted. But she’s agreed not to say anything publicly until after the shareholder meeting,” said Shiv.

You briefly wondered why she backed away, but chalked it up to immense financial risk and potential ethical demise of her career. Good for her. 

“Instead of Rhea, whose big hairy foot is going to slip into the glass slipper?” Roman queried. “Washington Ken here?”

His older brother clambered out of the pool, grabbing a towel to dry himself off. “Me? Uh, no. Nope. I mean—Rome, you brought the golden goose home.”

The two of you frowned at the same time. Roman let out a loud sigh.

“Could be anyone,” you said. “We’re right back to square one.”

“Yeah. Could be. I mean, why is Greg here?” Kendall shot a look over his shoulder to glance at his cousin, peering between his own toes.

Roman snorted. “I always ask that question.” Then, he patted your thigh and leaned against you, enjoying the warmth of your skin against his. “I did think—you know, when I thought they were going to vacuum out my innards and fill me with concrete or something—like… if we come through this, is there a thing where we, like, talk to each other about stuff? Normally?”

In a strange alien-baby voice, Shiv mocked, “You wanna twalk to each other nwormally?”

Kendall snickered and tacked on, “You wanna twalk abwout the big shit?”

“Yeah, let’s twalk abwout the big shit!”

“We can talk about—our feewings!”

The siblings joking around for a rare moment reminded you of when you were all younger, with missing teeth and scraped knees. When Shiv’s hair would still be done up in a ponytail and yours would be twisted into pigtails. Simpler times—when things weren’t all that simple but you, in your blissful ignorance, had thought they were. 

Though you really didn’t want to laugh, you tried your best to smother down a chuckle, making Roman send you a betrayed glare. 

“Wow. Really? You, too?” He lightly shoved you away, and you and Shiv burst into a fit of giggles when you knocked into her. “How am I the most mature one here?”

“Sowwy, Wome,” you crooned in the same alien-baby voice. He kicked at your foot, then hooked his leg over yours.

The laughter dulled away when the whirring of helicopter blades descended over the yacht.

Logan was here.

“Emotional gunship incoming,” said Kendall.

“Yeah. Send out the distress signal,” Shiv added, the smile on her lips fading away as she looked up to see her father fly down. “We’re under attack.”

Logan was smiling. It wasn’t often that he smiled. 

He greeted you with a chaste kiss to the cheek, and Roman with a pat to the shoulder. It was warm in the light—brief, but warm nonetheless.

When he hoarded the two of you, along with bum-boys Laird and Karl into a separate room, he immediately asked, “Are you two alright? I heard it got a bit tasty.”

Tasty wasn’t exactly the right word for it, you thought. 

“Mmh, we’re fine. I’ve had worse experiences at hotels before,” Roman languidly commented, shrugging it off. 

Logan tilted his head. “Did they look after you? I spoke to the White House.”

“Someone came and told us there was a warship,” you said, pursing your lips. “Felt a bit extreme.”

“Knowing us gun-handy Americans, I bet it was already there,” Roman snorted, pouring himself a drink. “The ambassador took us for a shitty lunch—you know, sorry that you were held at gunpoint, have a cheese sandwich.”

Logan gestured for all of you to take a seat. “So… on the money. What’s the situation?”

“The kids did great,” said Laird, which made Roman audibly gag. “I think, Mr. Roy, you’ll be able to go private. Eduard and his father have titular responsibility for the sovereign wealth but the president’s daughter’s husband, Zeynal, is the key guy now. The two of ‘em killed it with him.”

Shrugging, Roman said, “Well, it was clear Eduard was getting sidelined. Zeynal figured out who we were, and I thought we were gonna be taken to get a fucking chainsaw massage but… nope. We had an hour, we pitched hard, and they said they wanted in.”

“Too modest,” Laird emphasized, brows raising. “This is the perfect opportunity.”

It wasn’t. It never was.

Karl went on to talk about the numbers, and Logan seemed quite pleased. 

“That’s great. That’s fucking fantastic!” announced Roman’s father.

Rome bit down on the inside of his cheek. He winced, and scratched at his head.

“I just… I do have to say one thing, dad…”

Panic flashed across Laird’s eyes. “Roman, we’re good.”

Ignoring him, Roman said, “I mean, we had a good talk with Zeynal and he said, with his mouth, that he wanted in and that’s great and all… but if this is really serious for us, I think I actually do have to say that it feels like it’s… probably horseshit.”

A beat of silence.

Laird’s eyes twitched.

Clearing your throat, you said, “Yeah, I just wanna make it clear that they said they wanted in, but didn’t sign anything yet. I mean, it’s not like we had any documents on hand but… words mean nothing. Uncle Logan, I don’t know if it’s… really smart to bank the entire future of the company on words of drug-addled men taking a piss out of you.”

Logan’s brows raised.

“It was flaky,” Roman added. “There was a lot of shit going on.”

The head man glanced at Karl, who remained deathly quiet, and then back to you. 

“Roman, they want to rebalance their portfolio for, uh, for a variety of geopolitical reasons,” began Laird. “It’s very European-focused, and he wants to tilt Western Hemisphere. It’s all very logical! I know that it’s a lot of money, and that can be very scary, but it makes sense.”

“All due respect, Laird, but I really don’t think they give a shit about adding us to their portfolio,” you said, voice hesitant. “They know we’re in debt. They know we’re in hot water with a large sector of the company. Why would they want in at all, much less hand over a ten billion dollar investment like it’s nothing?”

Roman sucked in a sharp breath. “Sorry that we’re worrying our pretty little heads, Laird, but if they’re rebalancing their portfolio, it’d be fucking insane to do it over one ten-bil mega deal like it’s nothing.”

“Yeah, it’d be more sensible that they invest into several different markets around the globe,” you agreed. “None of this feels right.”

“It doesn’t matter what it feels like,” stressed Laird. “They said yes!”

With a frown, Roman retorted back, “Maybe, sure, they said yes! And there’s a ten or twenty percent chance that you’d make, like, a hundred million bucks with this deal. That’s so exciting! But if we miss, we could be fucked.”

Logan’s expression was hard to read. Anger? Disbelief? Disappointment? Acceptance? You couldn’t quite tell.

Swallowing hard, you said, “If we go through with this and none of it turns out to be real, we’d go straight over the edge. No votes, no political gain, no money.”

Finally, Logan murmured, “If it falls halfway through, it’d be terminal.”

A vein popped out on Laird’s head. “But if it works… just one step forward, and you’d be free.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Free from what? Just because we go private doesn’t mean we can do fuck all.”

Before Laird could argue back, Logan fixed his stare onto Roman. “Son?” he asked.

“Dad, I have to say, I’ve done a little bullshitting in my time—and Zenyal was a cokey, lying, 3 AM scotch and see-you-in-the-morning man. He won’t follow through.”

With a frustrated groan, Laird angrily got up from his seat.

Roman shook his head. “Dad, I wish it was real. I really fucking do. But it’s not—and we have to step away.”

When Logan turned his stare onto you, you nodded in agreement with Roman. 

“Karl?” your godfather asked.

The man buckled under the scrutiny. “You can’t lean on this,” he said. “Not now.”

His mind finally made, Logan got up onto his feet. “I’m sorry, Jaime. Keep exploring, keep talking. I cannot pile my chips on something that isn’t solid.”

“Excellent,” sighed Jaime. He looked at you, then at Roman. “You wanna talk solid? Maybe take a look at your kid there. Does he sound solid to you? And—thanks for the support, Karl. I hope you enjoy the king’s favors, because you know what you’re looking at if you don’t go private. Someone has to pay the price. Someone is going to go to jail, and I won’t be around to see it.”

With that, he dramatically took his leave. Roman tilted his head back and rolled his eyes.

“I wanna do the best thing. The most decent thing,” said Logan. His hand was on your shoulder for a moment, before he pulled away. “Tomorrow we’ll get into a discussion about our missteps and how we can indicate how sorry we are to the rest of the world. Get some rest, the both of you.”

As you clambered into bed, Roman unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it somewhere behind him. He’d followed you into the cabin, claiming that there were no available cabins left—and you knew he was lying, because you’d passed by several empty rooms on the way to yours, but you didn’t bother to protest.

“If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just asked.”

“Ugh, shut up.”

“You know, I overheard Tom and Shiv speaking to each other,” you said as you fluffed up a pillow to lay on. 

“Ooh. Is Tom the one getting shitcanned? No surprise there,” Roman replied, crawling next to you and laid down on his stomach, head resting on his crossed arms. 

“No. I mean, I don’t actually know who it’ll be, but—” You paused to smile, near-childish laughter falling from your lips. “I heard Tom saying he was excited for a threesome.”

“Ew! What? Ew! Tell me more,” Roman exclaimed, swatting at your arms and you shoved him back, laughing at his tone. “Oh, that’s so gross. Never pegged Tom as the type.”

“I don’t think it was Tom’s idea.”

“Ew!”

The two of you giggled about it some more, before you lolled your head over to face him. 

“Do you think it could be me?” you quietly asked. “Would Logan throw me to the sharks?”

Roman hummed. “Sometimes it feels like he likes you better than any of his own fucking kids. You’re not getting canned. It won’t make sense.”

“Hm.”

He threw an arm over your stomach. “But… it won’t be me, right?”

“I don’t know, Rome,” you told him honestly. “After today… I just don’t know. But I’ve got your back.”

The two of you basked in the comfort of each other’s quiet for a brief moment. You scooched closer to him and shut your eyes.

“You’re a really good friend, Rome.”

Something akin to an amused snort fell from his lips. “Pfft. Friend. I don’t think friends jerk off to the sound of each other’s voices. You’ve had your hand on my dick. Is that what friends do these days?”

“Friends with benefits, then.”

He brushed his lips along your shoulder, light as a feather, barely there. There was a strange ache in his chest. An ache that you also felt. The two of you ached together, unknowingly. 

“Hm. I like the sound of that. It’s like you’re my personal whore.”

“It’s a two-way street.”

“Yeah. You fuck me, I fuck you. You kill me, I kill you. Like they do in Germany.”

There it was again. What was with Roman and Germany?

“Sure. Like they do in Germany.”

It was hard to stomach breakfast with your restless nerves shooting adrenaline through your veins. You anxiously plowed through two apples and started on your third just when Logan stepped onto the lower level. Everybody’s attention piqued, their heads turning, postures stiffening up against the chairs around the dining table. 

When Gerri tentatively asked him who he had in mind as the sacrificial lamb, Logan waved her away.

“Enough. We stick together, alright? Most things don’t exist. The Ford motor company hardly exists—it’s just a time-saving expression for a collection of financial interests. But this exists, because…”

Roman leaned in close to mockingly whisper, “Family.”

“Family,” Logan finished. “We are a family. And so that’s why I think… I think the obvious choice is me.”

A ripple of shock coursed through the small group. Your eyes narrowed, unsure of what game Logan was playing at now.

“No,” Shiv vehemently said. “What? Dad, you—you can’t.”

Logan tilted his head. It wasn’t often he was told that he couldn’t. “Well, I may not be responsible, but the buck has to stop somewhere.”

The rest of the group erupted in protests. Tom, Kendall, Frank. They were all bleating sheep. Roman rolled his eyes.

“It doesn’t work,” Kendall elaborated. “When people find out Rhea isn’t coming in, we’d need stability. From you.”

Logan raised a single finger. “I need one meaningful skull to wave.” Wave didn’t seem quite the appropriate term. Chop off, maybe. Sever was a good one. “If the shareholders’ meeting was tomorrow, we lose. I need to persuade a number of big figures. So… would anyone like to say anything?”

Crackling silence. Across the table, Greg popped a fat green grape into his mouth.

“I’ll take care of whoever it is,” said Logan. “No one will be forgotten.”

Clearing his throat, Kendall ventured out, “Well, I mean, if we’re doing this, I don’t wanna spread shit around. We’re all loyal servants here. But, uh, I say this without malice aforethought, presumably, uhm, general counsel is the center of the web. Sorry, Gerri. I like you, I do.”

Logan reached out to put his hand over the blonde woman’s. “There is no one more loyal than Gerri,” he said, effectively dismissing the idea.

But you saw right through him. It wasn’t about Gerri’s loyalty. She wasn’t a big enough cut. 

“What about Frank?” Roman offered. Everyone was well aware of his disdain for the older man. “How come Frank is even here today?”

Full of ire, Logan’s old friend nodded his head. “Thanks, Roman. I see it. I could take it. I mean, I make sense.”

“Yeah. And after what he did to you? The whole boardroom coup?” Roman lifted a shoulder, convinced that Frank was the most obvious choice.

“Water under the bridge.” Logan brushed away once more. Still not big enough.

After a long while of stammering, Frank finally coughed out, “I would say objectively, considering my, uh, my indiscretion against the family makes me a less compelling sacrifice. Unlike—uhm, for instance, a loyal servant like Karl.”

Instead of defending himself, Karl decided to turn the blade right back around to Gerri. “My thing is, I guess, if Rhea is no more, then sadly, we’re back to having Gerri as named successor. So that fattens her up for the kill, in my opinion.”

“Everyone knows I was just a name on a piece of paper,” defended the woman, laughing incredulously.

“Oh, don’t put yourself down. I think you were always more than that,” scoffed Karl. “And, you know, the old copy book is a bit blotty. Expense accounts… daughter’s first class on the company coin…”

“Karl sounds good!” Tom chimed in. “Sausage thief,” he bitterly muttered, in reference to the entire Boar on the Floor debacle in Hungary.

“Gerri is theoretically kind of perfect,” said Connor.

“No,” Roman was quick to protest. “Nope. That’s bullshit. I disagree.”

Propping his joined hands on the table, Logan asked, “Why?”

“Why? Because that’s my opinion,” Roman said in a defensive manner.

“Yeah… but your reasoning?”

With a hasty glance to you, Roman hastily spun out, “Seriously, Gerri? To pay for cruises? We, what, we take out our senior woman? Haven’t we, you know—kidding, here, but—killed enough women already?”

“It’d look orchestrated. Gerri is just too obvious,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “Sexual misconduct cases three decades ago, and we’d be placing the blame on general counsel and simply wiping our hands clean? Not to mention it’d just make Waystar look more… anti-women if we went down that route.”

Roman nodded. “Listen, I think the obvious choice here is, and I hate to say it because he’s such a swell guy, but—” he made a whistling noise and pointed to the man sitting across from him, “Tom.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, you're the head of cruises, man.”

Kendall pursed his lips. “I gotta agree with Rome here. Tom, I fucking love you dude, but you shat the bed over Mo Lester.”

“But I was sent in there as the fucking beating man—I took the fucking beating!” 

Shiv shook the back of her head, making no effort to defend her husband.

“You got suckered in by Eavis,” said Kendall.

“I answered the questions!”

“You don’t answer the questions. Okay? That’s, like, rule one.” Kendall patted his brother-in-law’s shoulder. “I’m not beating up on you here, I’m just saying that he got a win off you and you’re kinda the face of this now.”

Lifting her head up high, Shiv said, “Tom looks logical. Cruises, document destruction. It’d be laid out for us.”

Tom’s gaze swiveled to his wife, expression utterly torn. “What?” he croaked out.

“I’m not saying you should be,” the red-head defended. “But I’m just saying you’re like family, but you’re not… actually family, which is also good. Tom, it’s the elephant in the room. We can say that!”

“No, we can’t! There’s absolutely no need to speak of the elephant in the room! There’s fifteen other fucking elephants in this room!” With an angry scoff, Tom threw both his hands up. “If you want someone who’s family but not family, what about Y/N?”

Immediately, Roman let out a high-pitched, “No! Why would it—why the fuck should it be her?”

Tom’s face contorted under the scrutiny. “I don’t know. General manager of Waystar, and goddaughter to Logan sounds like a good fucking steak to throw to the lions.” At your confused expression, Tom quickly backed down. “I’m not actually saying Y/N. I’m just saying things! It just—it shouldn’t be me. What about you, huh, Shiv?”

“Okay, fine. How do I work?” she hissed out. 

“I don’t know!” Tom exclaimed, his voice raising a few notches in volume.

Gerri pursed her lips to the side and mentioned, “I mean, if we’re saying Shiv, we could highlight witness tampering and, uh, that she was going to take over but—I don’t know, it probably wouldn’t work.”

Shiv reared back as if she’d been stung. “Uh, yeah. Too fucking right it wouldn’t work. I don’t make sense, I’ve never been inside.”

“What about both of them? Shiv and Tom? Beauty and the beast,” Roman said.

“Does Tom work?” Logan asked. “Alone?”

A long beat of silence. 

In all honesty, you thought he’d work. The missing documents were more than enough to go off of. 

But Kendall shook his head, and it flew right out the window. “Honestly, I don’t think he’s a big enough skull. No offense.”

“Then how about Tom with some fucking… Greg sprinkles?” Roman asked, gesturing to his cousin, who’d managed to polish off all the grapes on the tray. One of the workers floated by to take the tray away, no doubt to fill it back up again.

“Greg sprinkles?” parroted Greg.

Wincing, you apologetically added, “I mean, you did destroy those documents for Tom, no? It’s—it's an aided crime. It works.”

Connor laughed. “Elmo and Big Bird. I could start to see that, yeah. You could throw in a Karl or a Frank, and you’re golden.”

“What—what precisely are Greg sprinkles?” asked the Roy cousin.

“Greg sprinkles are basically a fantastic garnish for practically anyone seated at this table,” Roman replied with a faux warm smile. “Like a Tom sundae with a little Greg cherry on top.” He popped his lips and Greg frowned.

“No, I object. I do. I mean—I’m more than a sprinkle! What about you, huh? What about Roman?”

“Roman?” you asked, cocking a brow. “How would he be a good candidate?”

“Well, he’s widely known as a terrible person!”

Roman snorted. “Thanks, Toe Jam.”

“There’s another elephant in the room,” Connor interrupted. “What about I just throw myself over the side, huh?”

Shiv laughed quietly, hiding her smile behind her palm.

“Yeah, just—in return for a payout. I’m cash strapped, so just lock me into that sweet, sweet golden parachute and toss me in the volcano!” said the oldest Roy sibling. On he blathered, about how he should be the one to take the fall.

Logan glanced around. “That’s… that’s kind of you, Con. Thank you. We’ll bear it in mind.” He smiled, but it wasn’t quite authentic. It wasn’t real. Connor slumped back, going largely ignored once again.

With that, Logan stood up. “We have half an idea but… yeah. Let’s do this later.”

Off he went, through the glass doors, gone to God knows where.

You and Roman exchanged a look. His was one of relief and gratitude, yours was one of exasperation. Then, Roman leaned forward to snatch the tray of grapes away from Greg, and offered a branch of the plump green fruits to you. 

Dinner left a stale taste in your mouth. Maybe it was because you weren’t particularly fond of the served courses. Maybe it was because of the rocking motions of the boat upsetting your stomach. Or maybe—maybe it was because Logan had finally chosen his sacrificial lamb.

Kendall stood beside his father with pursed lips. Logan nodded to the sitting group. “I’ve decided,” he simply said.

Incredulity danced across Roman’s expression, brows raised. “Ken?” he asked. “Come on, really? Dad, you—no. There’s… what about the… one of the other shitfuckers?”

Your eyes darted from your godfather, to Kendall, who took a seat across from you. He met your eyes, if only for a brief moment. A part of you felt bad for him—after all, to you he was always going to be the eight-year-old boy draped in a suit far too large for him, practicing a speech in front of the mirror for a nameless award he was going to accept one day. He’d make you and Roman sit down and listen to him, four and five years of age, expectantly turning to the two of you after he was done and asking if it sounded okay. Desperate for approval, even if the assurance came from two young kids with missing teeth and bored eyes.

He was practically your brother. You averted your gaze with mild shame burning within your chest.

“Hey, it’s okay,” said Kendall. He looked around the table. “You’re all off the hook.”

Roman leaned forward and asked, uncharacteristically genuine, “You okay?”

Wordless, Kendall nodded. He was trying his best to stave away the frown tugging at the corners of his lips. There were tears warbling over his irises. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m good.” 

But he wasn’t. Roman knew, and you knew, too.

Karl cleared his throat. “Is it just… I don’t wanna be rude here—is it just him?”

Gerri tilted her head. “First—uh, second-born son—with his responsibilities, it wouldn’t be a hard sell.”

“Roman,” said Logan. “You’re taking over as full chief operating officer.”

An indignant noise fell from his throat. “Yeah? What with Captain Cautious back in the other room?” 

“No, no. Frank’s going to be responsible for the cruises clean up. You’re on your own. Solo.” Logan stared at his youngest son. “Can you handle it?”

Beneath the table, Roman’s jostling knee bumped into yours. “Yeah,” he unenthusiastically said. “That’s really exciting.”

Kendall spared his little brother a lopsided smile. “No, Rome. It’s great. For real.” Then, he raised a fork. “Eat up, guys. This one’s on me.”

Day three on the boat. You woke up to Roman’s arms wrapped around your midriff, his face buried in the fabric over your chest. He sleepily mumbled and whined when you dragged yourself (and, effectively, him as well, seeing as he refused to let go of you) out of bed. The two of you brushed your teeth together before you promptly kicked him out of your room so you could take a quick shower in peace.

By the time the both of you got down to have breakfast, Greg was the one to tell you that Kendall had left earlier in the morning. 

“Right to his slaughter,” you mumbled to Rome, who’s face twisted with guilt.

An hour later, you were watching Kendall on the television. Shiv and Logan were on the couches, and Roman had both his hands resting on your shoulders, kneading your muscles as if you were a stress ball.

“I have been asked to explain my role in the management of illegality at the firm and associated cover ups. And it has been suggested that I would be a suitable figure to absorb the anger and concern,” said screen Kendall. To your surprise, his words were followed by, “But…”

You and Roman exchanged glances. He stopped working at your shoulders and crossed his arms.��

“The truth is that my father is a malignant presence. He is a liar, a bully, and was fully aware of the events that had transpired on the cruise ships for many years, and made efforts to hide and cover up. He had a twisted sense of loyalty to bad actors like Lester McClintock, and a disregard for the safety of migrant workers, union and non-union workers, along with vulnerable performers and guests.”

“Fuck me,” Roman whispered. Logan silently lifted a finger to his lips to shush him.

The Kendall on screen was vastly different to the puppet Kendall you’d come to know for the past few months. He’d finally broken free of his strings.

“My father keeps a watchful eye over his entire empire, and the notion that he would have allowed millions of dollars of settlements and compensation to be paid without his explicit approval is utterly fanciful. I have with me today copies of records that show his personal sign-off. How much those of us who executed his wishes bear responsibility is for another day.” 

Shiv briefly twisted around to shoot you an utterly dumbfounded look, as if to ask you if you’d known he was going to do this. You sent her an equally befuddled expression.

“But I think…” said Kendall, “This is the day his reign ends.”

With that, Kendall got up and walked off to the side, out of the camera’s view. You couldn’t see it, for Logan was facing the screen, but there was a slight smile on your godfather’s face.

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[talkdutchtome]

You Should Have Said No  Chapter Three- Death By A Thousand Cuts

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / pierre gasly x reader )

summary . . . when your fiancé cheats on you, you strike up an unusual friendship with one of his closest friends, who just so happens to have had a crush on you since he set eyes on you. chaos ensues.

inspired by the works of miss taylor swift )

genre . . . angst )

song . . .death by a thousand cuts)

warning . . . cheating, mental illness, angst, eventual smut, poorly translated french and dutch, swearing, mention of parent loss, emotionally abusive parent, slight social media au, kendall jenner as fc (potentially more i’ll add as i go along)

series masterlist . . . available here )

Once you had landed in Barcelona, you were greeted by an ample about of photographers and reporters taking photos of the three drivers. They knew who you were, you had accompanied Pierre to countless races, but you could tell they did not expect you to follow Max, Lando and Daniel out of the private jet, their eyes darting to the door to see if Pierre was going to follow you out; when they realized that Pierre did not accompany you, the clicks from their cameras became more intense. You knew the girlfriend of a driver being caught leaving a private plane with three of his rivals was a big story and the tabloids would go crazy for it. Thinking of Pierre seeing the photos made you cringe inwardly, almost feeling guilty for your budding friendship with Max. The rational side of your brain tried to shake that thought away, you were only friends with Max, even if it was anything else; you no longer owed anything to Pierre. Even still, you still felt slightly uncomfortable so you quickly thanked Max for his continued help and support before saying goodbye and walking towards the studio where you would be working that day. You weren’t sure of your full schedule for the day, but you were aware that the first session would be with the drivers from Williams and Haas. Most photography sessions with the drivers were usually done in groups of two teams, simply so the whole grid could be done as quickly as possible. Realistically you didn’t particularly want to be working, you still felt weak from the events of the weekend; but you knew that sitting around and wallowing in sadness wasn’t going to help anything, so you took a deep breath to compose yourself before taking the last sip of the Redbull Max gave you on the plane before beginning to get to work.   

Max’s POV  

Max watched you walk away from the group, unable to take his eyes away from you until you were no longer in his line of sight. Hearing laughter come from his two friends he looked back at them. “Mate what is happening to you?” he heard Daniel ask before Lando chirped in too. “Yeah, I mean, going to her house and cooking her dinner, inviting her in your jet, that is not the Max I know.” He was about to respond until he caught sight of Pierre walking towards them, looking like a man on a mission. Max was slightly thankful for this interruption; he truly had no answer for his friends’ questions after all. But mostly he was nervous as to what Pierre wanted to talk to him about. He wasn’t sure if Pierre was aware that it was him who told you what happened in the club, although once he saw the facial expression Pierre wore in his face, he was pretty much sure that he did know.  

“So do you want to tell me which one of you told Y/N what happened with Sophia?” He addressed Max and Lando, knowing that they were the only people where there who knew what happened.  

“Look mate I don’t think-” Lando started, trying to diffuse the situation but he was interrupted by Max.  

“Yeah it was me, she deserved to know” he spoke up, having little patience for the French man stood Infront of him seething.  

 “And why the fuck do you think you know what she deserves. I know you’ve always had a crush on her, but I never knew you would stoop so low that you would try to sabotage my relationship. She’s my fucking fiancée man.” Pierre’s words made Max unbelievably angry, he didn’t want to continue this pointless conversation and he didn’t want to dignify Pierre’s ridiculous words with a response, but he couldn’t help himself.  

“Yeah, and how exactly telling her that you slept with someone sabotaging your relationship, I’m pretty sure you there one that did the sabotaging mate.” Pierre laughed, reaching into his bag for something.      

“Oh if that’s all you did then I guess this isn’t your jacket I found at my house today mate.” He spoke with venom in his voice, throwing Max’s Redbull jacket at him.   

Max gulped, realising that he must have left it when he came round to see you, his actions were innocent, but they certainly didn’t seem that way to Pierre. 

“Did you fuck my girl Verstappen?” Pierre asked with a look that would have had Max six feed under if looks could kill. Max was dumbfounded, Lando’s and Daniel’s jaws dropped to the floor in shock. “What no of course I didn-“ he started to reply, until Pierre’s fist connected with his face. Without even thinking Max immediately swung back at Pierre and went in for a second hit until Lando and Daniel got in between them, stopping them from hurting each other any further.  

“Go fuck yourself Max. She’s mine.” Pierre called out, walking away as soon as he got out of Lando’s grip. Max opened his mouth to respond but Daniel pulled him away, encouraging him to walk away from this conversation.  

The three drivers arrived in Max’s drivers room, looking in the mirror he noticed the split lip he had thanks to Pierre, he cursed him, knowing that he had media duties later, dreading the questions he’d get. 

“Look Max you nee-“ Daniel started to speak making Max roll his eyes, Daniel was always trying to give words of wisdom, taking the fact that he was older than a lot of the grid very seriously.  

“Seriously Daniel not now” Max dismissed Daniel, not wanting to be taught a life lesson right now.  

“No Max I think you need to hear this. I know you like Y/N, you always have. But now is not the time to try anything. She is a very pretty girl, I get why you would want to but there is about a billion reasons why you shouldn’t, the drama that it would cause with Pierre for a start but most importantly, it’s not what she needs right now. That woman has just found out that the person she loved had sex with someone else, she is broken. She does not need anymore completely avoidable drama all because you want to shoot your shot. I love you man, but you can’t put her in that position” Daniel finished, looking at Max, trying to gauge if he had pissed him off with what he said. He usually prefers to stay out of the heavier topics, more than anything Daniel is an extremely positive person who would much rather make someone smile than serve them some harsh truths. Max knew this so he knew that Daniel was being completely serious.  

“I do like her, I think she’s beautiful and funny and well.. she’s like a shot of espresso; she makes me feel alive, she makes my heart race. And I also think she deserves someone much better than Pierre, I always have thought that even before all this” he spoke as his friends looked at him with wide eyes, not expecting words like that to come out of Max’s mouth. He took a shaky breath before continuing. 

“But all of that isn’t why I’m doing what I’m doing, I actually agree with you Daniel; my love is the last thing she needs right now. But what she does need is a friend. Think about it who do you see her spend time with around here other than Pierre? Charles, Charles’ girlfriend and Carlos, that’s who, What side do you think they’re going to take? She gave up her job to follow Pierre around and now he’s left her with no one by her side. So I’m going to be there for her, I’m going to be her friend. You both know what I went through with Kelly the way she left, if I didn’t have you guys I would have gone insane.” 

Daniel and Lando shared a knowing look, before Daniel looked at Max, before reaching up and ruffling his hair; proud of his friends new found maturity.  

Your POV 

Work was hard, and long. You were able to put a brave face, even when Alex Albon asked you how Pierre’s celebration went with a wink. You knew he didn’t mean anything by it, he was a lovely guy and was just trying to have a joke with you; that didn’t make it hurt any less of course. Looking down at your schedule, you feel your stomach sink as you read the two teams you’re supposed to be shooting now. Redbull and Alpine. Closing your eyes, you fought hard to keep your lunch down; you really didn’t want to see Pierre right now, and you certainly didn’t want to see him with Max. Max’s actions and his niceness towards you confused you, he never really showed you any attention before, with most of the interactions you two have had with each other being in group conversations. To be honest, you had even thought on the occasions you did spend with each other that he didn’t actually like you, there had been a few situations where you noticed that if you were stood or sat too close to him he would move away, times where you would make a joke to the group and he would just look at you in a funny way. You tried, and failed, to steady your breath. Looking at the watch on your left hand, the watch that Pierre gave you when you got job with formula one. The clock hit 4, the time the drivers were due to walk through the door. Like clockwork, Max Verstappen and Sergio Perez walked through the door. Your eyes fell to Max, immediately feeling your racing heartbeat calm down, you smiled to yourself happy to see him. That shocked you, not expecting seeing him to make you feel that way. Your smile dropped when your eyes focused in on his lips, noticing it was split and bleeding. You had no reason to think so, but you just knew Pierre had something to do with it. That suspicion was confirmed when he and Esteban walked in the room and your eyes immediately saw that your fiancé had a black eye, or ex-fiancé, you corrected your own train of thought. The tension on the room was unbearable, nobody said a word. Checo and Esteban didn’t fully understand what was happening in the room but they were able to put some pieces together, the matching war wounds, both the ones on their faces as well as the matching bruised knuckles they shared; alongside the uncomfortable silence in the room, it was clear something happened between the former teammates. 

The awkward silence sat for a few moments longer, nobody wanting to be the one to start speaking. That was until your boss Rebecca walked in.  

“Okay people, we’re going to start with Max and Checo, we just need a few photo of you two together and then we’ll move on Pierre and Est-“ her instructions stopped when she saw the marks on the two men’s faces.  

“Okay what the hell do you people think you’re playing at you both knew this was scheduled for today and you show up looking like-“ she began her rant, cursing out both men but you couldn’t hear what she was saying, instead you were too focused on Max’s lips. It looked sore you thought to yourself, almost trying to excuse why you found yourself unable to look away; although just for a second you  couldn’t help to thinkable how soft they looked despite the sore, how kissable and plump they looked. You visibly shook your head, almost like you were physically trying to shake that thought out of your head, you had no right to be thinking thoughts you like that. You chalked it up to your brain still being fuzzy from the last few days of hell you had just endured and turned to face Rebecca, looking for instructions on what was going to happen now.  

“Right well obviously Y/N can’t take photos of you looking like this so you can all leave and ill try and find time to reschedule it. I will be speaking to both of your team principals as this is just simply not acceptable. Y/N, that was the last shoot of the day so you can head off.” You winced at her tone, clearly very pissed off before nodding and leaving. You walked towards your office for the weekend, looking for somewhere safe before your equipment before you headed back to the hotel room. 

“Mon chéri, can we speak?” you heard Pierre’s voice speak from behind you. You immediately tensed up, really not wanting to speak to him. Despite that, you gently nodded, knowing that you can’t live in this limbo forever.  

“What is going on with you and Max?” he asked walking closer towards you. You scoffed at him. Unbelievable, you thought to yourself, he didn’t follow you into your office to apologize or see how you were doing after the worst few days of your life, he just wanted to talk about Max.  

“Don’t make that noise at me Y/N, I know somethings going on so tell me. Are you fucking him?” 

You saw red, you were enraged that after all he had put you through, he had the audacity to talk like you were the one who cheated on him. He was still walking closer towards you, he didn’t stop until there was a gap of only a few centimetres between your two bodies.  

“Okay Pierre, first thing- no I am not fucking him, he has been a friend to me, you know since you broke my fucking hear, and secondly- if I was it would be none of your damn business; you lost the right to have an opinion on what, or for a matter of fact who I do, when you slept with a random women in a club bathroom.” You fumed at him, taking your ring off and pressing it into his hand. 

“We’re through Pierre.” You told him but he didn’t say a word, instead he brought his hand up to your chin, pulling you closer to him before crashing his lips onto yours. You wanted to push him off you but you didn’t, you let him kiss you and you kissed him back. Your lips fit together like two puzzle pieces. Being in his arms again, feeling his lips against yours felt like heaven. You didn’t know how touch starved you were until he picked you up and your legs wrapped around his legs in an instant. Everything that had happened, everything Pierre had put you through was gone all you could think about was you and him and you both together here and now. His hands reached to your desk and cleared space to sit you down, his lips coming down to your neck causing a small moan to escape from your lips. You put your hands to the zip of his drivers suit, ready to pull it down to, desperate for him to keep touching you. Before you could do anything you heard your phone ring and it was almost you woke up from a trance. You pushed Pierre off of you, shaking your head. Not sure if you hated Pierre or yourself more from that encounter, you began to speak.  

“That was a mistake Pierre. I don’t want anything to do with you. Please leave me alone we are done”  

Pierre looked like he was about to cry but he did what he asked, walking out of your office without looking back at you once. Your phone rang again and you reached down to answer it, too flustered with you encounter with Pierre to even check who was phoning you.  

“Hey bitch, where the hell are ya?” you heard a very familiar voice through the speakers. Lili. Your best friend since before you even knew Pierre. You didn’t very often get to speak to her, she moved to the UK a few years ago and you had only seen her a few times since then due to both of your busy schedules. 

“So excited to hear from me you’re speechless huh? Look I was just phoning because I’m at the airport with a bottle of tequila and I need to know what hotel you’re staying at so I can order my uber.”  

“Wait Lila? What?” you questioned genuinely confused. 

“Charles called me, he told me what happened and that I needed to get here as soon as possible, so I caught the first plane I could.” You could have cried, there was no one in the world you wanted to speak  

“I cannot believe he did that. What a fucking asshole.” Lila sat on your hotel room floor with you listening to you tell her the whole story, starting from the club in Monaco and ending with the encounter you had with Pierre. Half a bottle of tequila had been consumed between the two of you and Taylor Swift played though the speakers of Lilas phone, she knew exactly what you needed.  

“This Max seems like a good guy though. You should have a go on him, show Pierre what he’s missing.” You laughed at her proposition, too drunk already to explain to her why that would be an awful idea. Lila began speaking about something else but you were too focused on the song that had just come on.  

“I get drunk, but it's not enough 

’Cause the morning comes and you're not my baby 

I look through the windows of this love 

Even though we boarded them up 

Chandelier's still flickering here 

'Cause I can’t pretend it's okay when it's not” 

“Y/N, are you okay? Really though?” Lila asked, pulling you out of your Taylor Swift induced trance. You lay your head on her shoulder, half trying to steady you head, half just wanting to be close to your friend. You smiled, knowing the exact answer to her question.  

“I'll be alright, it's just a thousand cuts.” 

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

Notes- I just wanted to thank everyone who’s been showing this story some love. I’ve truly been floored with the reception that this has received so far. I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as you did the others. 

ALSO- I'm currently unsure what kind of format this story is going to go down. I personally prefer longer, slow burn fics but I’m not sure if I should go down that way or if people would prefer it to be a bit shorter. Let me know what you think! 

Tag list -

@hiraethrhapsody @ironmaiden1313 @dudenhaaa27 @aundercover @dearlovelys @bicchaan @eugene-emt-roe @faithm120601 @ruleroftheuniverse @idkiwantchocolatee @simxican @reidsworld @icarus-nex @barnestatic @amalialeclerc @stargaryenx 

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #max verstappen #lando norris #formula 1 #max verstappen smut #pierre gasly smut #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles lecrelc #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x oc #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen x y/n #f1 fanfic #fanfic #f1 imagine

[leviathanspain]

helloo requesting a Roman Roy x reader where Roman makes her feel really shitty and insecure but she really loves him and stays in their toxic relationship, argument and he invalidates her , if you want please thank you 🖤

even if it hurts me

roman roy x reader

synopsis: roman roy didn’t know just how lucky he really is

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“mhm, and that hot piece of ass should be walking in here any minute.” roman looked down at his watch, bored with the so-called ‘family meeting’ that kendall had organized to conspire against logan. roman didn’t care much for kendall’s rants and antics, he was only there so he wouldn’t be left out.

shiv scoffed, looking down at the floor as she crossed her arms. “i thought that having a girlfriend would make you respect women.” she liked the influence you had on roman, but he was always resisting it any chance he could.

roman saw your reflection in the glass as you approached the glass office. he stood up, stretching a leg out dramatically as you opened the door. “oh it did. just not this one.” he grabbed you, pulling you tight into his side. you didn’t have enough time to even react, but you managed to squirm free.

“can you not-“ you turned a shade of red, catching both shiv and kendall’s eyes before shifting them to the carpet out of embarrassment. you distanced yourself slight from roman before smiling at the siblings. roman rolled his eyes and began to practically push you out the door, “stop kissing their asses, focus on mine, hmm?” he clapped a hand on your hip, squeezing the skin tightly.

you winced slightly, allowing him to shove you out the door until he was pulling you with him towards the elevators.

you stayed silent as he pressed the elevator button. roman’s impatience got the best of him as he slammed the button again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

you sighed, hoping that the final time he slammed it would be the last. but just as his hand lifted up towards the button, you found yourself shouting stop at the top of your lungs.

he froze, eyes widening as he turned to look at you. you were speechless, mainly in shock at your own behavior but anger washed over you as he maintained eye contact, hand slamming the button once more.

“you son of a bitch.” you gritted. annoyed at roman, you didn’t hesitate to push him out of the way as the elevator doors opened. roman faked an ‘ow!’ and followed in after you. you were angry, he could tell. perhaps it was the way it had gone with his siblings, he noticed that had become a pattern.

“do i not fuck you good enough?” roman broke the silence on the ride down, head tilting down at you in a condescending manner. his tone shifted, and he smirked slightly, “not good enough that you still think that you can tell me what to do?” he stared into your eyes, waiting for an answer.

you flinched slightly under his gaze, but remained steady, “no you don’t. not with your tiny cock, any fucking feels like a pinch.”

roman’s laughter burst into the tiny space and you forced yourself to stare ahead as he finished out his mocking laughter.

“oh my god. that one,” he slapped his knee, still laughing hysterically, “was good! if you hadn’t been begging to be fucked just,” he looked down at his watch, “some odd five hours ago?”

you stared at roman, challenging his eye once more. you grabbed his hand, tightly twisting it in yours, “hit me.” roman’s expression twisted into shock, “hit me! fucking hit me! be a coward like your father, and hit me!” you screamed, feeling the anger bubble over.

roman pulled his hand out of yours and stepped back into the elevator wall. “are you insane?! no!”

you rolled your eyes, “why not? hmm? you have the balls to embarrass me, humiliate me, and condescend me any chance you get. why cant you be a fucking man and hit me?” the intensity in your voice rose and roman looked bewildered.

“can you shut the fuck up for two seconds?! im not going to hit you-“ roman tightened his grip on the bars attached to the wall. the elevator rides were never usually this long. he needed out- he needed to-

you broke free just as the elevator doors opened onto the waystar building lobby. you didn’t bother to look back at roman, still gripping the handlebars in the elevator, as you walked out.

roman blinked, until he let go and rushed after you. there was a chance you’d leave him behind, stranding him like last time.

you could hear the stomping of his feet as he chased after you. his voice was shouting your name, echoing into the parking garage. you picked up speed, hoping you’d be able to outrun him. you reached the suv’s doors and tapped the driver, “step on it, hmm?” you leaned back into the seat just as the driver started the engine. there was a pause, and he pointed to roman, who was waving his hands frantically to stop the driver.

you rolled your eyes, sighing as the driver spoke, “what about mr. roy?” the hesitation was enough time for roman to make it to the car. his hand grabbed the passenger door. you scoffed as he swung himself in, giving you a glare before barking instructions to the driver.

he turned to look at you, sweaty and angry, but he didn’t dare to say anything else.

kendall watched as the headline dragged itself pathetically across the screen. another incident involving roman, you and the police had occurred, and this time the media had caught it.

kendall had left message after message on roman’s cell. but neither him or anyone at waystar had heard from him. siobhan tried your cell, but you weren’t answering either.

tom and greg walked into roman’s office, following a message from shiv to come. “that is-“ he pointed slightly to the tv, swallowing thickly as a camera panned out a shot on the waystar royco building, “horrible.” greg finished for him, moving to sit on the only chair that roman refuses to let anyone sit in.

even you.

he relaxed into it, “do we know if it’s even true? you really think they’d send each other to the hospital?” he looked at tom, who shrugged and looked down at shiv, “you think your brother is a woman beater?”

siobhan couldn’t help but scoff, turning to look up at tom, “are you serious?” tom sputtered, as if he couldn’t find the words to defend himself.

kendall sighed, “they’re not hospitalized. roman isn’t that stupid and she-“ he paused, “it just doesn’t make sense. maybe they’re just staying in today.”

shiv stifled a laugh, “i’m sorry but who are we kidding.” she stood up, “rome is our brother, but he’s a shitty fucking boyfriend. i wouldn’t blame y/n if she decided to finally cash out with roman’s dead body.”

“that was a really horrible thing to say, shiv.” shiv turned to head towards tom, who continued, “but it could be true.”

greg sighed, as if he seemed to have found a solution for this entire situation. he stood up, watching as they all stopped to stare at him. he whipped his phone out and immediately began to dial. there was a smirk on his face that only tom was encouraging.

“hey y/n!” greg knew he would’ve been able to get you on the phone, you were both the outsiders in the roy family’s game, after all.

“ew what the fuck. why is greg the egg calling you?” roman sounded far away, but he was the only one of the phone. there was a bit of back and forth before greg cleared his throat, “may i talk to y/n?”

“why? so you can fuck her?” roman deadpanned across the line and greg immediately blushed a deep red, scoffing in response, “no! no! we- i, am just concerned because neither of you are at the office.”

“we?” there was a bit of muffled talk, before greg heard the phone being passed off, “we saw it. don’t worry about any of it, we’ve talked to logan.”

it was you.

you sounded shaky, but stern. greg didn’t get to say anything before you hung up, leaving no room for more questions.

you threw your phone onto the bed and sighed, sitting down on it.

roman had opted to sit crisscrossed on the carpet. hunched over, a thoughtful look on his face. “are we going to talk about it?” his hands untucked themselves from under his chin, fingers toying with the fibers of the carpet.

you sat with your legs outstretched in front of you, arms crossed on a lounge chair. “are you going to hit me?”

roman blew a breath out, “can you stop with that? im sick of you saying that-“

“no because that’s what you need to do, roman. you need to just smack me or even punch me-“

“why?!” roman’s voice bounced off the walls, squeaky and almost boyish.

“because maybe then i’d finally stop loving you!” the words came out like vomit. just flooded the space between you until you felt it kill all the oxygen in the room. you clawed slightly at the lounge chair as you watched his shoulders tighten.

roman didn’t say anything as he looked up, “what?” there was a genuine surprise in his voice, a shock to your confession.

you bit your lip slightly, sighing deeply before speaking, “i have spent the last five years of my life loving you. it has been a torture, humiliating and degrading. yet-“ you felt your voice crack with emotion, “i find myself loving you more and more with each waking moment. i cannot breathe without you by my side, like all the air dies the minute you walk out the door. i want to love you roman, even if it hurts me. even if i’ll be nothing but a ‘piece of ass’ to you.” you felt a tear slide down your cheek, sniffling slightly.

roman, who had been staring at the carpet leading up to this moment, looked up. “i’m sorry.”

words spoken rarely, but you could feel the warmth behind it.

“and i’m not gonna fucking hit you.” not like he would, he wanted to add, but decided it would best to leave the father-son comparison out for this.

roman stood up, moving to sit down next to you. you felt his hands snake themselves around your waist, fingertips grabbing tightly onto your skin, “i love you, even if it hurts you.” he kissed your temple and for a moment, you had found peace at roman roy’s side.

#roman roy x you #roman roy fluff #roman roy smut #roman roy succession #roman roy angst #roman roy x reader #roman roy #succession x reader #succession fanfic #succession hbo #succession

[finntheehumaneater]

I owe you a black eye and two kisses (pt 10)

(Part one) (part eleven)

playlist | pinboard | ao3

um. So. I don’t know how to write kissing. And like…yeah, just have whatever this is, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.

(More notes and taglist under the cut)

Steve woke up that evening with his face pressed into Robin’s side, red creases on his cheeks from the folds of her t-shirt. She was half curled around him, a hand in his hair and one leg thrown over his, the other kneeing hard into his thigh.

He could faintly hear the doorbell ringing, pressing his face back into Robin’s side and huffing. Robin squirmed slightly, tugging in his hair, and Steve reached up, moving her hand away from his head. “Your dad gonna get that?”

Robin shook her head, here eyes still closed. “You go, M’not getting up.”

“Gee, thanks, Robs,” Steve muttered, sitting up and stretching, grabbing one of Robin’s t-shirts and pulling it over his head. It had Freddy Mercury on it. 

His feet felt heavy as he made his way downstairs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and opening the door. It was raining—a quiet kind of rain—and there was Kendall, Eddie hovering behind her, his face ducked and his cheeks pink.

“Oh,” Steve whispered, looking Eddie over. Kendall just smiled and waved slightly. 

“Thought I got the wrong house,” she admitted, looking around again. She had done the the first time, too. “Thought you lived up in Loch Nora, not here.”

“I do—this is…my, uh…my friend’s house. She’s upstairs. Sleeping. Yeah,” Steve mumbled, looking down, his face flushed and his brain still fuzzy from sleep.

Kendall nodded, looking Steve over, and then over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps. Steve turned to see Robin stumbling down the stairs, just in boxers and her other Madonna t-shirt, since Steve had left the first one at Eddie’s. “Steve?”

Steve glanced back at Eddie, who caught his gaze before looking away again, his eyes a bit glassy. Steve’s probably were, too. “Hm?”

Robin’s eyes widened and she stopped next to Steve, her cheeks pink. Steve followed her gaze to Kendall, his eyebrows pressing together. “Robs? Hello?”

Robin didn’t look over at him, just staring down at the floor in front of her. “Who’s this?”

“Eddie. And Kendall.”

“Huh. Uh…cool. I’m gonna, um…”

Kendall glanced back at Steve and then Eddie, before motioning to her truck with one hand, a quizzical look on her face. Robin nodded and pushed past Steve. 

“Be back in a sec, Eds, gonna go and show…?” Kendall trailed off.

“Robin,” Robin supplied.

“Yeah—gonna go show Robin the car. For a bit.”

Eddie’s face scrunched up and he rolled his eyes. “You’ve still gotta drive me home in that, you know.”

Kendall flipped him off.

There was a pause of silence, and then Eddie sighed, pressing his face into his hands. “Jesus, okay—look, man, could I…Come in?”

Steve hesitated. This wasn’t his house, and he didn’t know how Mr. Buckley felt about visitors, yet, but he eventually nodded against his own better judgment, stepping aside for Eddie to walk through into the kitchen. A part of him wanted to let Eddie talk, to hear him apologize—if that was what he had come to do—and to say he forgave him. Because he already had, even if it still made him upset to think about it. But the rest of him wanted Eddie to leave—so that Steve could feel bad for himself just for a little while.

Eddie leaned against the counter, closing his eyes and sighing.

“Steve…”

“Don’t. It’s—it’s fine—“ Steve started, his words sounding choked off and strained. He didn’t want Eddie to feel bad over this. The thought of that made him feel sick to his stomach, even if Eddie had hurt him. He didn’t want Eddie to feel guilty anymore.

“Stop,” Eddie said softly, opening his eyes, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach over to Steve, but he didn’t, keeping his arms crossed. “I want—I want to apologize, okay? Because—fuck I feel…I feel horrible, Steve..”

Steve shrunk into himself slightly, shaking his head. His insides were crawling around under his skin, twisting and pinching and curling in ways that made his head spin and his hand shake. He was well aware of the tears falling down his face—how Eddie was looking at him like he was something important to him that he had broken, something that he could never get back--but he refused to acknowledge them. Eddie could have him back—he could have all of Steve back, he just needed to ask.

He just needed to let Steve know that’s what he wanted. That he wanted Steve. And Steve would have been okay with it if he lied, too. 

“You don’t have to, it’s not your fault,” Steve whispered, trying to steady his voice and failing. “I—“

“Steve, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered, his voice so so soft. “It was. I…I’m sacred, okay? And I know that doesn’t excuse what I did, but…I’m scared that you’re still…King Steve, or whatever. So I…was trying to get you to leave. To hate me, maybe, get mad at me. But you just got sad, and…and I was so fucking scared. That you only like me because…because you want to hurt me in the end. Or at least I think you like me?”

“I do,” Steve whispered back, his words caught in his throat as he held back a sob. “I wouldn’t do that  I—I wouldn’t—that’s not me, please..” he knew he sounded a bit hysterical, but the fact that Eddie still didn’t trust him, even after everything, made him want to curl up some place far away and die. And he knew—like Robin had told him—that him being nice now didn’t change what he had done in the past, but he was trying to be better. And being better was hard when people didn’t look at you any different—when they refused to look at you any differently—than you once were.

“Hey, hey—Steve…” Eddie sighed and held his hand out, fingers shaky and unsure. Steve took it instantly, the metal rings Eddie always wore feeling cold against skin. “I know. I mean—it’s hard, okay? You were an asshole, and I know you’re different now, but I’m maybe a little bit in love with you now, and I don’t want to get my heart broken. Which is shitty, because I hurt you over that.”

“Please stop apologizing—“ Steve tried to cut in, and maybe he was actually crying, now, because Eddie had said that he loved him, if only a little bit. But Eddie just kept talking.

“And—and I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I did it anyway. I shouldn’t have done that, and I get if you don’t want to…I don’t know, talk to me again? Hang out anymore? But—but I think Wayne misses you or something, which is weird, and—“

Steve grabbed Eddie’s face in his hands, pressing their lips together to shut him up. For a moment, it was like kissing a fucking wall with his still Eddie was, his whole body tense, but then he sank into it, his hands digging into Steve’s hips. 

He moved away from the counter, shuffling them so rind until Steve’s back was pressed to it, but he was still mostly still, like he wasn’t sure what he was meant to do.

“Gotta kiss back,” Steve muttered into Eddie’s lips, one hand reaching up into Eddie’s hair and tugging lightly, which made Eddie let out the quietest, most desperate noise, and Steve felt himself unravel a bit inside. “If you want.”

“Course I want to, baby,” Eddie whispered, pulling away. “This isn’t my first time kissing someone.”

Steve felt his cheeks flush slightly, but he frowned and tugged Eddie back. “You’re acting like it is.”

Eddie scoffed and held onto Steve’s hips a bit tighter, almost in a way that stung, but Steve just leaned into the touch anyways. 

“Do you want this or not?” Eddie muttered, that bitchy tone creeping back into his voice, almost like he couldn’t help it. Steve felt his cheeks flush at that and he nodded, eyeing Eddie over. It was kind of hot, he thought—which was immediately followed up by no, that’s weird.

Steve moved back to press his lips against Eddie’s, tugging at his hair a bit harder this time so that maybe Eddie would take the hint and just fucking kiss him back already. And Eddie did, but the sound he made was now closer to a whimper—and Gods, they really shouldn’t be doing this in Robin’s kitchen, it felt weird. And Steve told that to Eddie, who just laughed and bit at his bottom lip, tugging him closer, and Steve laughed, not really making any attempt to push him away.

“Eds—“ Steve tried to say, gasping, and Eddie hummed in response, biting his lower lip again, his tongue running across it.

“Hm?”

“We should—we should,” Steve shivered slightly when one of Eddie’s hands slipped under his shirt. “We should stop.”

“You want to?” Eddie asked gently, pulling away. Steve nodded, and Eddie let go, stepping back. “Yeah, cool. Alright.”

“We could…go back to yours?” Steve offered, shrugging, hating the way his cheeks flushed bright red when Eddie grinned and laughed again.

“Yeah, sure. It’s late, Wayne’s not home.”

“Right,” Steve said quickly, nodding, and this was really fucking awkward now, but Eddie didn’t seem to mind.

“So we…wait for Kendall and Robin to come back?”

Eddie nodded. “Are they, like…?”

Steve laughed slightly and shook his head. “Knowing Robin, they’re probably just sitting there while she talks Kendall’s ear off.”

Eddie nodded, before eyeing Steve over with a small smile on his face. “You have weird friends.”

Steve just smiled back and sighed. “I do, don’t I?”

This isn’t the final part, there’s more of the story guys :)

as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated ♥️

taglist which is open:

@estrellami-1

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@insteviewetrust

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#Finn writes #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #steddie fic #Wayne Munson #Wayne Munson fic #wayne Munson fanfic #Steve Harrington fanfic #eddie Munson fanfic #my fic my writing #stranger things oc #robin buckley #robin buckley fic #Robin buckley’s parents #Stranger things au #Stranger things fic #st3

[abadbitchblogs]

SOS

Part 2

Pairing: Jey Uso x OC x Damian Priest

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3.5k

a/n: Thank you all so much for all the love! I couldn't have asked for a better reception of my art. You all inspired this next part! Likes, comments, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! Mwah!

-credit to @cafekitsune for the divider

If it weren't for the 15 text messages from Joshua and the Instagram spam from Damian, she could swear that last night was a dream. One minute she was partying with her best friend and the next she was trying not to catch a case. Then she found solace in an unlikely companion. Her head was honestly still spinning from trying to process everything that happened less than 12 hours ago. Work was definitely going to be- something today, that much was certain. After she opted to just block Josh, she smirked at her notifications being flooded by thearcherofinfamy. He was obviously trying to get her attention since he didn't have her number. The drive to the arena would take less than an hour if traffic was nice to her so she had time to kill before the superstars were set to arrive. Kendall decided to play with the dark priest and thought to lure him out via DM.

[kenthedoll_] Meet me in an hour

[archerofinfamy] That didnt sound like a question

[kenthedoll_] Bc it wasnt, yk you wanna

[archerofinfamy] Alright I’m in

[kenthedoll_] I was counting on it. Meet me at my room

[archerofinfamy] Yes ma’am 

Well it was already 10 AM so going to the gym was out of the question which meant today would be a day of indulgence. Finally rolling out of the bed for the morning, Kendall danced through her daily routine with Bongos  blasting on her portable speaker. Damian felt so new- exciting! There was something just effortless and easy about being around him that caught her attention. Ken googled brunch spots on the beach so they had a chance to take in the scenery before they went home after the show. The weather called for a little white tee and shorts combo but she kept it cute pairing it with some comfortable loafers. Dressing like an Instagram baddie 24/7 was too much work for her. When she wasn't on screen or out on the town, she was more of a comfortable girly. In the few moments left before Damian was supposed to show up, she made sure her stuff was packed for the show then her flight home in the morning. You had to stay ready even if you weren't scheduled for the show in case any last minute changes occurred.

Right on cue at 11:15 three knocks rapped against her door to which she skipped over to snatch it open. “Fancy meeting you here.” Her tone was playful as she smiled at his classic bad boy appearance. “Good morning to you too, cariña.” The corner of his lips quirked up in a subtle smile that she found cute. Despite his dark wardrobe, his presence alone filled the air with warmth. The kind that kept the house smelling like chocolate chip cookies hours after they'd been baked. “I hope you like french toast and mimosas because we have reservations.” She didn't wait for a response as she took his hand leading him to the elevator after making sure her door locked behind them. “I don't care what we eat when my view looks like this.” A snort shot through the hallway at his cheesy line but she found his doting to be refreshing.  “Do you use that line often?” Kendall mused while leaning against the wall observing his mannerisms to familiarize herself with him. “My first time. Did it land?”

All she could do was put her head down to hide her amusement not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he could fluster her so easily. The elevator dinged, signaling that they had reached the lobby and she ushered him to the back entrance of the hotel to allow them to walk on the boardwalk. “I hope I’m not keeping you from any leadership duties. I know you run a tight ship.” Damian thought Kendall was so different from the other women on the roster. No one ever really said what they were actually thinking but she did. She was inquisitive, direct, and original. “If you're wondering if I told them that I would be with you, I didn't. I wasn't sure if this was a secret rendezvous or not.” Ken laughed at his uncertainty as they walked side by side to the restaurant. “Think of this as a qualifier for you getting that number you asked for. I wanna know if you are as interesting as I think you are.” “Guess I better show you what you're missing.”

The confidence in Damian’s statement made her pulse quicken, her brown skin prickling with goosebumps. When the pair arrived at the restaurant, he made it his business to open the door for her and pull her chair out once they were seated. As they sat across from each other, her counterpart scanned the menu making small talk about what they would order but she was fixated on him. Kendall snapped out of the trance when he put his  menu down to see why she wasn't responding to him. A smile tugged on his lips whilst he leaned forward on his forearms, bathing her in the attention she was giving him. “I would ask if you see something you like but if you said yes, I'd have to do something about it and we’re in public.” Kendall mimicked his actions with a grin playing on her lips. “Well you know I love to perform.” The silence that settled over the table fueled the intense stare down between the two; the air crackling with desire.

Damian carefully contemplated what he was going to say next. Should he tell her that he wanted to eat her on that very table or should he change the subject? Before he could decide, the waiter came over to take their orders breaking their fierce eye contact. Glancing down at her menu briefly, she decided to make the most out of her cheat day. French toast, scrambled eggs, bacon and home fries while her counterpart opted for something high in protein like steak and eggs. The tension was still palpable after the waiter left with Damian shifting to lean back in his chair with his eyes locked onto hers. “How come you don't call me Luis like everyone else?” Taking a sip of her orange juice then mirroring his posture, Ken gave him a small smile. “Because I’m not like everybody else if you haven't noticed.” 

Once their meals arrived, they ate in comfortable silence stealing little glances at one another between bites. In true woman fashion she longed for some of his food even though her own was good. He noticed her eyes flickering back and forth to his plate so he wordlessly sliced a piece of his steak and held the fork out to her. Instead of pinching the meat off with her manicured fingertips, she rose up slightly to lean across the table and wrap her lips around his fork.  All the air in his lungs evaporated as she let out a hum of satisfaction while looking him dead in the eyes through her lashes. If he didn't drink the complimentary ice water, his boiling blood was going to start traveling south. “Is it good?” At that point he didn't even know if he was referring to the food or not. “The best.” Her tone was definite. They were indeed not talking about food.                                                      

Food was finished and the check was placed on the table. Damian looked at her, she looked at Damian then they both looked down at the bill. Snatching the envelope off the table at the speed of light, he waved it at her in triumph. “Gotta be quicker than that, princess.” Damian placed his card in the pocket making sure he held on to it as they got up to leave. “I asked you out so I should be the one paying.” Kendall argued, crossing her arms over her chest to look more intimidating but it just made him laugh at her bratty nature. “Ah so you admit this was a date.” His chin raised in victory, his back rested against the hostess counter while they ran his card. “Maybe.” She shrugged heading for the exit once the staff returned his card. He chased after her, catching up to walk beside her back down the boardwalk to their hotel making sure was on the other side of oncoming foot traffic. “You’re a stubborn one aren’t you?” Though it was posed as a question, she knew it was rhetorical and he was teasing her. “Well I am a Taurus.” It seemed like the most obvious thing in the world to her but he wasn't really into the whole zodiac sign thing. 

The whole walk back consisted of the two bumping into each other like they were on a different planet with no gravity. Even while they waited for the elevator, he found his eyes glued to her smaller frame until they moved to board. Both of their minds seemed to be so preoccupied that when the ding alerted them that they had arrived on her floor, it startled them a little. “After you,” In a sweeping motion, he allowed her to exit first as he watched the way her jean shorts seemed to hug her ass the way he wanted to. When they reached her door, they felt a sense of deja-vu all over again. “Well that was…” She struggled to find a word that could describe the date they just had. “Exhilarating.” Damian breathed out in agreement. He was nearly pressing her against the door as he peered down at her in adoration, “I think we should do it again.” Ken wordlessly held her hand out for his phone. Damian took the hint, pulling his phone from his pocket and gently placing it in her palm.  She saved her number in his phone under ‘Princess’ before handing it back to him. How fitting.

His body was tingling with the need to grab her and kiss those lips that always managed to stay glossy all the time. But they had to get ready to head to the arena soon; as much as he wanted to be the reason she was late, he didn't want her to get in trouble. “Do you want to ride with us there?” He offered half because he wanted to make sure she could get there okay and half because he wanted to spend more time with her. “Nah, I have a rental and I'm not fighting five people for the AUX.” “Alright then I’ll see you there.” His soft tone was accompanied with a curt nod and he knew he was supposed to walk away but his feet just wouldn't move. “See you later, Luis.” She laughed, gently pushing on his chest to give him some momentum to make it back to the elevator. He walked backward toward the elevator never taking his eyes off of her before she gave him a little wave before disappearing inside her room to get ready. 

Ken sat perched on a crate in an empty hallway backstage as she cackled on facetime with Trin who wanted to know what was going on with her and Luis. “Mmm, who you looking cute for Miss Ma'am?” Her friend instigated causing her jaw to drop to drop at the implication. “Um, not too much. I always look good.” Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help the laugh that escaped when Trinity replied with a deadpan. “Yeah but when you're not scheduled for any screen time, you go for cute and comfortable. You got your titties sitting, legs all out and everything.” She lifted her phone up, angling it down to fit her whole body in the frame. “And is!” The two of them were cutting up so much in the secluded area that she didn't hear footsteps approaching until she felt a strong presence beside her. 

Her smile slid right off her face when she looked over to see Joshua. “I gotta go, sis. I’ll text you.” Just as Trin was about to ask her who had her moving like that, she hung up on her knowing that was probably gon get her cursed out later. “Joshua.” She hoped her flat tone would deter him from saying whatever he was going to say and ruining her mood. “Hey, can we talk for a minute?” Slowly scooting off of the crate, the girl held her hand up in dismissal. “Like I said before, we don't have anything to talk about. I’m good.” His gaze used to make her feel invincible but now she found herself trying to tug her skirt down in discomfort. “Please. You don't even have to say anything. Just listen. I wanna apologize.” In her mind she was debating on whether or not she could listen to his explanation. She really did want to put the shit behind her so she could fully let go- let him go, but now that he was in front of her, she knew she wasn't ready yet.

“I just can't do this right now, Joshua.” Kendall moved to walk past him only to be stopped by him grabbing ahold of her hand. “Wait-” “Stop doing that shit!” Snatching her hand from his grasp she quickly composed herself not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to them. “Stop smothering me. You can’t go from ignoring me for years to popping up on me and texting me fifty fuckin times. I’m not your bitch. Never was. I don’t owe you a damn thing. IF I decide to listen to whatever excuses you have, it’ll be on my time- not yours.” She walked away to take a breather when she turned the corner and smacked right into someone while she was lost in her thoughts. “My bad. I wasn't paying attention.” However when she looked up, she locked eyes with Señor MITB. “We have got to stop meeting like this, princess.” His stomach buzzed upon seeing her but when he noticed her agitated state his brows furrowed in concern. “You okay? What's wrong?” Shrugging the previous spat off, Ken instantly brightened up at his concern for her well being. “Fancy meeting you here.” Her teasing tone sent them into their own little bubble as they stood there making googly eyes at each other. 

Before Luis could respond, Josh rounded the corner she just came from and almost tripped over his own feet stopping to watch their interaction. Luis gave him a friendly head nod with his signature half smile when he realized they had an audience. “Wassup, uce.” Kendall swore she was so annoyed that a visible irk mark actually appeared on her forehead. “What's up, bro.” Jey’s cold demeanor confused him but he chose not to question it. Instead his eyes drank in her figure before lifting to connect to hers again. “You look fucking amazing.” “I try.” She grinned recognizing that familiar glint in his eyes. “I was actually looking for you because I just had an interesting meeting with creative.” “Oh yeah?” She arched her perfectly plucked eyebrow in intrigue. “Turns out they think Damian Priest would be more susceptible to leave Judgement Day because of a woman.” Now that was the last thing she expected him to say.  “Looks like Carsyn and Damian Priest are going to be entwined soon.” “I look forward to it.” 

A stagehand interrupted their heated exchange to tell Damian that his match was on in ten minutes. “Good luck out there, champ.” Luis patted his championship with one hand then raised his briefcase with the other. “I don’t need luck, but I think a kiss would give me a little motivation.” Her brows shot to her hairline being surprised by his boldness before patting his chest. “Win and I’ll think about it.” She smirked then turned on her heel to head to catering. “And don’t look at my ass.” Ken called behind her even though she knew he was most definitely watching her walk away. Luis shook his head in disbelief before going in the opposite direction to meet Finn by the gorilla. 

Kendall watched tag team champs defend their titles against DIY on the monitor in catering. All the close calls had her abandoning the food on her plate because she was too anxious to eat. Winning matches was always the goal but being safe as entertainers and athletes was top priority. Damian could hold his own but they were doing a great job selling the match because those kicks had her wincing for him. The match finally ended with The Judgment Day retaining the Undisputed Tag Team championships. Smiling proudly to herself, she continued to push her food around her plate, having lost her appetite when her phone buzzed with a text message from ‘Papi Chulo’. 

[Papi Chulo] Now back to that kiss

[Princess] I said I would think about it

[Papi Chulo] Don’t make me take it

[Princess] Is that a threat or a promise

[Papi Chulo] It's a warning

A tingle shot up her spine in anticipation. Tossing her food in the garbage, Ken left catering intent on furthering their game of chicken. 

[Princess] Catch me if you can

She was making quick work of trying to find a place to hide while superstars and staff looked on in confusion at her speedy movements. Rounding a random corner, she threw herself into the first storage closet she saw. They never took particularly long showers at arenas so she knew he'd be hot on her trail any second. Placing her hand on her chest to calm the pounding of her heart, she sucked in a breath hearing movement outside the door. Waiting with bated breath for something to happen, she slowly exhaled when the feet in front of the door continued on down the hallway. Kendall went to check her phone for any messages from him when the door burst open making her squeal and drop her phone. There he stood with a wolfish grin plastered on his face as he closed the door behind him. “I found you, little lamb.”

Every step she took backward, he stalked forward with his long legs crossing the small space in mere seconds. “That was fast.” Her adrenaline spiked again as her back hit the wall allowing his tall frame to cage her in. “What can I say? I had business to take care of.” His deep voice filled the air like smoke making her feel lightheaded as she laid her hands on his chest to ground herself. “And what business is that?” He wrapped a strong forearm around her waist pressing their bodies flush together and cradled the back of her neck with his other hand. “You.” Any words on her tongue died when he connected their lips in a passionate kiss. It felt like all the air left her body then came rushing back. Draping her arms over his neck, she leaned up on her tiptoes to deepen the lip lock. Ken let out a quiet moan feeling like she was slipping from reality as he held her. Hearing her sounds of approval urged him to lower his hand to grab a handful of her ass.

Willing herself to pull back from the kiss, Luis chased her lips coaxing a giggle out of her. “You’re intoxicating, muneca.” His voice was low but his stare was burning right through her. ��I’ve been told I have that effect on people.” He laughed, moving to snake his arms around her small waist maintaining their closeness. “Careful. That effect gon have your ankles making friends with your ears.” The fire between them was spiraling- warping into something insatiable. “Is that a threat or a promise?” Kendall challenged only to receive a harsh squeeze to her ass. “Definitely a promise.” Tugging her hand to lead them out of the closet, he poked his head out of the door to make sure the coast was clear. “Let’s get outta here. I’ll drive.”

kenthedoll_

kenthedoll_  In my soft girl era 

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archerofinfamy the fairest of them all

↳ kenthedoll_ 👸🏾

trinity_fatu Its the smile fa me 

↳ kenthedoll_ its you fa me 🥵

wrestlingprincess80 face card never declines

↳ kenthedoll PERIOD POOH

biancabelairwwe ugh my fave

↳ kenthedoll_ I love you pookie ❤️🥹

carsynsclub not Damian commenting on her posts 👀

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#jey uso #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #dividers #wwe x reader #wwe #damian priest #jey uso x reader #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso imagine #damian priest x reader #damian priest imagine #damian priest smut #jey uso smut #jeysuso #black!reader #black reader #black authors #love triangle #wwe x oc #jey uso fic #sos #abadbitchblogs

[wambsgansshoelaces]

so basically my finger started gushing blood this morning so I decided to ignore school and start a headcanon series

please let me know if you like them and want more!!! I’ll always take requests :)

cutting your finger

Kendall

ᝰ takes your hand and cleans it for you

ᝰ “quit squirming, it doesn’t hurt” while he has a cotton pad doused in saline solution clamped on the open cut

ᝰ carefully puts a bandage on it, admiring his work

ᝰ gets you a can of ginger ale

ᝰ “ken, it’s a cut.”

“i don’t care. drink.”

ᝰ leaves for work the next morning after kissing your forehead and demanding you “don’t do anything stupid”

ᝰ “it’s just a cut,” you say again.

“do you want to amputate your finger? just listen!”

Roman

ᝰ blood makes him squeamish

ᝰ you’re sitting there just watching your finger gush blood and he’s run across the room

ᝰ “can you at least get me a bandage?”

ᝰ flings you one from the kitchen like it’s an olympic discus

ᝰ doesn’t come back until the blood is gone

ᝰ “very helpful,” you say, a bit disappointed in him

ᝰ takes your finger and gives it a kiss

ᝰ “all better,” he tells you

ᝰ and it is all better

Shiv

ᝰ “oh, no, what’d you do?”

ᝰ you shrug and then you both realize you don’t have bandages in the medicine cabinet

ᝰ she takes a paper towel and wraps it around your finger

ᝰ “i don’t think this is doing anything,” you say, watching the paper towel turn red

ᝰ “i’m just staunching the blood flow!”

ᝰ “i don’t think you know what ‘staunching’ means.”

ᝰ you end up just sticking your finger under the sink’s hot water

ᝰ she makes dinner in apology

ᝰ kisses you before sliding you your plate

Tom

ᝰ sees it before you see it

ᝰ before you can even notice the blood he’s wrapping the tip of your finger in a bandaid

ᝰ “you need to be more careful,” he tells you, so deadass serious

ᝰ “what even happened?”

ᝰ you never saw the blood

ᝰ demands you change the bandage every three hours so you don’t infect yourself

ᝰ peppers your face in kisses

ᝰ “am i dying?” you ask him, suspicious of but loving the affection.

ᝰ “no, because i’m taking care of you.”

Greg

ᝰ “oh, look, i’m bleeding,” you tell him while you’re cuddling on the couch

ᝰ acts like you got hit by a bus

ᝰ “oh my god i have no idea what to do!”

ᝰ “greg, i literally wiped it and it stopped bleeding”

ᝰ “stay there, i’m going to target.”

ᝰ he comes back with a bunch of snacks and a box of minions bandaids

ᝰ “they’re the only ones i could find…”

ᝰ “they’re kind of cute.”

ᝰ just so he stops worrying, you stick one with the little fat minion onto your finger

ᝰ “thank god you’re okay.”

ᝰ you kiss his cheek, laughing

ᝰ you’re grateful he cares

Stewy

ᝰ “stew, can you grab a bandaid? i’m bleeding.”

ᝰ “oh, cool, let me see.”

ᝰ inspects your finger

ᝰ “sick,” he says

ᝰ puts the bandaid on for you

ᝰ it’s all lopsided; the sticky part is on the cut

ᝰ “you tried,” you tell him

ᝰ plants a sloppy kiss on your mouth

ᝰ you spend the rest of the night watching him play video games

ᝰ you wake up the next morning, the bandaid lost to your sheets

#succession headcanons #succession x reader headcanons #succession x reader #succession #succession hbo #wambsgansshoelaces #headcanon series #stewy hosseini #stewy hosseini x reader #greg hirsch #greg hirsch x reader #tom wambsgans #tom wambsgans x reader #shiv roy #shiv roy x reader #roman roy #roman roy x reader #kendall roy #kendall roy x reader

[gotham--fc]

Puck Drop - A Hilary Knight Imagine

Request: Hilary and R are married with kids and R comes to the first Boston game to support Hilary and the PWHL

we are so back, I'm so back in the writing game I mean it this time it's not like the other times I said that then disappeared for months I really mean it the woho girlies have got me I can't them down

About 1000 words of pure fluff enjoy

Y/N pulls the end of the jersey her son was wearing out of his mouth. She smooths out his hair, wipes a bit of dirt off his cheek. He squirms away from her, like any four-year-old would, but she gives him a look that says stay still for one second. She adjusts her nine-month-old daughter’s jersey as well, making sure Knight on the back is visible.

“Do you remember what I told you?” Y/N asks her son. Noah nods.

“Stay with you, drop the puck to Mama and smile for the picture.”

“Good,” Y/N says, “We have to wait until they tell us to go out.”

“Mama is going to be so surprised,” Noah says.

“Ma!” Luna babbles.

“That’s right baby, are you excited to see Mama?” Y/N says. Luna starts squirming in Y/N’s arm, clearly excited.

A stadium employee steps into the room they’re waiting in.

“We’re about to get started.”

“Thanks,” Y/N says, “Okay lets go.”

Y/N adjusts her grip on Luna and takes Noah’s hand. She follows the employee and watches the opening ceremony. She cheers when the names are announced and she can hear Noah cheering too. When Hilary’s name is called Noah cheers louder.

“Go Mama!” He yells. Luna shrieks in agreement.

An employee hands them each a puck. Noah takes his and holds it very seriously. Luna puts her right into her mouth. Y/N can’t help but laugh. The PA announcer announces the ceremonial puck drop and Y/N keeps her eyes on Hilary as he announces their names. The three of them step onto the carpet and Y/N watches the shock and delighted surprise on Hilary’s face. Hilary skates over for the puck drop, a huge grin on her face.

“Okay, are you ready?” Y/N asks. Noah nods. The two of them drop their pucks on the ice. Luna keeps her in her mouth. Y/N tries to pull it out but Luna pushes her hands away. Hilary laughs and tickles Luna’s belly. Luna laughs.

“Can I have this?” Hilary asks. Luna gives Hilary the puck, almost smacking her in the face with it. “Thank you,” Hilary says. Y/N laughs as Luna tries to climb into Hilary’s arms.

“No baby, Mama has to play hockey now, you can see her later.”

Hilary drops her gloves on the ice and hands her stick to Noah. She pulls Luna into her arms.

“Hi baby,” Hilary coos, “You surprised me, you sneaky girl.”

Luna gurgles in Hilary’s arms. They all turn to the photographer who has been taking pictures of this conversation. They get a picture before Kendall backs away.

“Get one of just the family,” She says.

Hilary starts protesting, saying Kendall is basically part of the family, but Y/N pulls her attention away.

“Just take the picture, my love.”

They do, and Y/N goes to take Luna back, but Hilary ducks her head down before she can and kisses her. Y/N blushes. She would think, after years of dating and marriage that she would stop turning red every time Hilary kissed her, but alas. Hilary grins then hands Luna back. She kneels down to give Noah a hug before Y/N and the kids walk off the ice. Y/N heads up to the box her and the other families members were given to watch the game. During the game, Luna pays no attention to the ice, and instead gets passed around and entertained by the other occupants of the box. Noah splits his time between playing with the toys Y/N brought for him and watching the game.

“Which one is Mama?” Noah asks.

“She’s right there,” Y/N points, “Number 21.”

Minnesota wins, 3-2, and Y/N knows Hilary will be disappointed. She always is after a loss, and Y/N understands. Hilary always wants the best from herself and when she loses she always picks apart everything she thinks she should have done better. Y/N and the kids head downstairs and wait for Hilary outside the players area. Y/N says hi and makes conversation with Hilary’s teammates as they head out. Hilary is the last one to leave the locker room, as usual. She’s freshy showered, her hair still dripping on her shoulders, and she smiles when she sees them, but Y/N can see the disappointment underneath.

“Mama, were you surprised?” Noah jumps into Hilary’s arms before Y/N can tell him not to. Hilary groans as she lifts him up, no doubt sore from the game.

“I was very surprised,” Hilary says, “I was told you were just going to watch the game from the box.”

“And we did,” Y/N says. She leans up and gives Hilary a kiss. “We also did some other stuff too.”

“Uh-huh,” Hilary says.

Hilary puts Noah down so she can carry her bag. The ride home is filled with Noah chattering excitedly about the game, with Luna piping in with unintelligible sounds. Hilary matches Noah’s enthusiasm, and Y/N is struck again by Hilary’s character. No matter how she feels about the game, she never lets the kids know. She never sulks or snaps or acts upset, even though Y/N knows she is.

By the time they get home, Luna is asleep in her car seat and Noah is halfway there. Y/N sends Noah inside to change into his pjs, and Hilary gets Luna out of her car seat. Y/N stop Hilary before she can head inside. She cups Hilary’s cheek and leans up and kisses her.

“I’m sorry about the game,” Y/N says, “I know you wanted to win. You’ll get them next time.”

“I know,” Hilary says.

Y/N wraps her arm around Hilary’s waist and puts the other on Luna’s back where she’s curled up on Hilary’s chest. The three of them sway together in the garage, Hilary’s cheek resting on Y/N’s head.

“Thank you,” Hilary says quietly, “For coming to the game. For surprising me. For marrying me. Having kids with me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” Y/N answers just as quiet, “I would do it again. I would go back and do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

“We should go inside before Noah gets bored and demolishes the house.”

Y/N laughs. “He is your son.”

“He is just as much yours as he is mine,” Hilary says, “Whatever mischief he gets into is both of our faults."

#hilary knight #hilary knight imagine #uswnt imagines #hockey imagine #womens hockey imagine #hockey rpf #uswnt hockey #woho #woho imagine