#roman roy slowburn
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Turmoil; Chapter 1
Roman Roy x fem!Reader -read the rest here!
Prompt: slowburn romantic drama, arranged marriage plot line
a/n: thank you to anon for requesting! if you requested this fic, please tell me so I can tag you! I apologize if this reads as unrealistic or too dramatic- but please let me know your thoughts!
Word Count: 2.358k
Nothing. You’d turned yourself into something from nothing.
You’d ended up in New York on your own, running from your past, vying for a fresh start. With a degree from Harvard law in your pocket and an unsatiated hunger for success, it only took one case to change your fortune.
Your boss had pawned the case off on you because it seemed impossible. A man charged for real property fraud, and heaps of evidence to prove it. You initially thought you’d pawn the case off to some other schmuck, until you’d been given an anonymous tip and found a discrepancy in a bit of evidence that unraveled the opposition’s entire case.
It was a massive win- not just for you, but for your entire firm -and it came with a massive raise.
A few years later, you’d amassed an egregious amount of money in total and even more respect from those around you, so you quit and founded your own firm. You’re thankful for everything you have. You stay humble, you’re likable, and you make sure everyone in your employment is as well. It keeps you afloat- New York loves you, but more importantly, they trust you.
It earns you millions.
You’re happy with the life you lead. You frequent charity events, donating whenever you can, staying kind. You know what kindness can feel like during a period of misery. You remember what relief felt like when extended a hand, so you extend yours whenever you can.
You help the people around you. You’re kind to everyone, conduct yourself with grace, and are aware of yourself and those around you.
Maybe that’s why Logan Roy chose you.
He’d written to you a week ago, inviting you to dinner to discuss business prospects. You assume he’s gotten himself into a legal pickle involving some of his questionable activity which some regard as criminal.
When you enter the restaurant, one of his men spawn at your side and lead you into the dimly lit back where nobody is sitting. Your heels click on the marble, your gait not wavering.
“Mr. Roy,” you say when you see him. He gets up, albeit very slowly, and shakes your hand.
“Y/L/N in the flesh.” He sits back down and gestures to the seat across from him. You oblige. “You’ve made quite the name for yourself.”
“I do my best.”
He beckons over a passing waiter. “Get her whatever she wants. Put it on my tab.”
You quietly order a small appetizer and watch him watch you.
“Well, Mr. Roy, I hate beating around the bush. Why am I here?”
“The first case you worked on. Do you remember that man’s name? The one you proved innocent?”
“Connor Frost. I don’t forget. Never showed his face once.”
“About him. For witness protection and press reasons, we were allowed to alter his name in the official papers. We also got away with him never being there.”
Your heart misses a beat.
“Connor Roy was on trial for real property fraud, and you proved him innocent,” he continues. You school your face into neutrality. You get a sick feeling in your stomach that won’t stop growing and gnawing at you. It threatens to eat you inside out. “I hate to burst your bubble, but he was guilty. Fucking stupid, it was.”
You blink. “I don’t mean any disrespect, but-”
Logan’s eyes never leave yours. “But nothing. The deed you found in Connor’s name? Forged. And the people who forged it were paid more than enough to never think of speaking about it in court. You couldn’t have known it was fake, so you took it to trial and won. I practically bankrolled that raise of yours.” You can feel yourself begin to itch. “Initially, there was never any need to tell you. If I had things my way, I’d have let you live your life doing whatever the fuck you wanted. But my son had other plans.” As if he didn’t just reveal that your first case was a joke, he offers you some wine. You quickly decline. You feel like you’re going to puke all over him.
“Kendall. You know Kendall.” His voice drips with venom. “Would’ve given everything to him, but he obviously has different ideas for the company. I can’t let him take it now. He’ll fuck up everything I’ve worked for and put into place at Waystar. And I’m not giving the company to the idiot who accidentally committed fraud to the point of felony, or the one who’s running around the world with her dumb fucking political bullshit. That leaves me with one son. So the company has to go to him.”
Logan tops off his glass of wine. “But, by God’s grace, this leftover son is the fucking stupidest of them all.”
You have no idea how this has anything to do with you.
“Let me be clear, Miss Y/L/N. I respect you. You’re a fantastic attorney. I’d have you on retainer- I will, once my current contract with that Frederica jackass runs out. But you must forgive me for all of this. I have to do what needs to be done.”
He inhales, then sighs. “For you to take control without me losing public face, I want you and my son to come to an agreement in a partnership.”
You have to give him the dumbest fucking look for him to respond with, “Marry him. I need you to marry him.”
“I’m sorry?” You can barely keep your composure. You think you’re dreaming, or someone spiked your water, or you’re dead, or anything but this.
“I can’t have him in control. I can pretend like he is, sure, but I need someone with a brain at the helm.”
“I… my degree is in criminal law. I have no idea how the corporate, let alone financial world runs.” It’s all you can think of to say.
He waves you off. “You’ll learn.”
You don’t know what to say. You probably look like a fish, mouth hung open as you gape at him. “Surely someone else is better suited to this than me. I won’t. I can’t.”
“This is why I had to apologize,” he mutters. “Do as I say, and our secret is kept. Walk away, the tabloids will learn of a little lady who buried and forged evidence to win her first court case.”
“You can’t be serious. I thought it was real!”
“The public doesn’t know that. Regardless, I’ve done worse. I’ve ruined stronger, more powerful people with much less.”
You press your lips into a thin line. “I suppose you’ve left me with no choice,” you grit out.
Logan smiles and claps his hands together. “Welcome to the family.” Your appetizer finally comes and is set in front of you. You don’t feel that hungry anymore. “What are you waiting for? Eat!”
He takes a bit of calamari from you. “I think it goes without saying,” he says, “that if you say anything about this conversation we’ve had, you’ll end up prosecuted and in jail for fraud.”
☾𖤓
You feel like you could punch a hole into the wall. You can’t believe it. It’s pure dumb fucking luck that you got caught in this.
Logan Roy didn’t choose you for your legal prowess, or any of your skill or ability like you’d stupidly believed. He chose you because he has control over you, and he knows it.
A few days pass, and you begrudgingly drag yourself out of your rotting place in bed. Cursing yourself the entire time, you change into something nice. Logan told you he was throwing a party in your name, to introduce you to the family- and the inner circle, you knew.
If anything, you think to yourself, you look fucking good.
You’re not prepared for the onslaught of paparazzi that bombards you the moment you step out of the house.
That bastard must’ve told the press about your engagement.
There’s nothing you can do but get into the black sedan waiting for you at the bottom of your driveway. You’re probably going to have to move, now.
You sit in the backseat, simmering the entire drive. You have to prepare yourself for the hell that’ll be stiff arming paparazzi to get to the party.
When you pull up, you take a deep breath, and step out the car. The man sitting in the passenger seat got out before you and walks out in front of you, another flanking you as you push through the chaos.
The flashes are almost blinding, but you keep your eyes open. Every picture taken tonight is going to be circulated tenfold by not even tomorrow morning. You hope you have resting bitch face in all of them.
Your miniature guard manages to get you inside with no issues. You’re late on purpose, and it seems like the room goes quiet when you enter.
The crowd stares back at you as you survey them. As much as your rage is telling you to make a scene, you won’t. Time and place, you tell yourself.
Immediately, you can tell Connor recognizes you. He tries to avoid your gaze, but your rage bubbles up and out of you. “Mind if I steal him for chat?” you ask the girl standing with him, voice painfully faux-sweet. You feel like you’re on Love Island, in some sick, twisted way.
The girl gives Connor an awkward pat on the arm before leaving him be. You can feel peoples’ eyes burning into the back of your head.
“You told me,” you begin, voice dangerously low, “that you didn’t do it.”
He looks everywhere but at you. “I was just doing what I had to.”
“Was fucking me over what you had to do? Because I feel like that’s all you did,” you hiss.
“Do you really think someone like me is going to ever go to jail?” Connor scoffs. “It could damage my reputation.”
“It could damage my reputation,” you mock. “Are you fucking stupid? Fucking God.”
You turn to leave, but immediately pivot back. “You’re a Roy. You would’ve been bailed out immediately. You wouldn’t have even gone to jail for an hour.”
You’re fuming. You’re barely holding it together.
Then, you catch the eyes of a man not that much taller than you, dressed in all crisp black. He’s handsome, you think, a light stubble dotting his jaw and soft eyes that wrinkle gently when he smiles.
He excuses himself from the conversation he’s having to come to you and Connor.
“Connor. You’ve met my lovely bride-to-be?”
You’re back to fuming, any thoughts of his beauty gone.
He sticks his hand out to you. “Roman Roy. Nice to meet you, I’m your fiancé.” His voice is painfully bitter.
“You think I want this any more than you do?” you ask under your breath, your handshake way too firm. His grip on your hand is equally as tight.
Connor snorts. “At least act like you like each other.”
“You’re the reason any of this happened. Keep yourself out of it,” you snap.
Roman sighs and turns away from Connor. “Can we go for a walk? We should probably have a word.” To your dismay, you agree.
As soon as you’re out of the main atrium and by yourselves in a grand hallway, you speak freely. “Listen, this is nothing personal,” you begin, “but I’m looking for a way out of this.”
Roman looks over at you as you walk, both of you going at a snail’s pace. “I don’t stink, do I?” He sticks his hands in his pockets. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry this happened to you. I know he’s blackmailing you.”
You sigh. “I should’ve known something was wrong with the case when I never saw my fucking client in person.”
“Well, I want this over as quickly as you do. My father doesn’t want me anywhere near the company, and I’d like to change that.” You both stop walking to face each other. Maybe you two can be friends, despite everything.
“Let me make something clear, though.” Roman takes a step towards you, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “I’m only in this for me. Not you.”
Whatever positive thoughts you’d had were chased away. You spend the rest of the night fuming under your skin, lying through your teeth, and standing by yourself in the corner.
Siobhan Roy is the first to approach you.
“I admire you, you know.”
“Your father said that too, and look where I am now.”
She presses a flute of champagne into your hand. “I’m not my father.” You share a tense look. “Listen. I think we can do something good together,” she says lowly. “You want to disentangle yourself from this situation, and I want my father out of the picture when it comes to Waystar. Some of my clients have used your firm during political scandal. They all came away unscathed… I have full trust in your ability.”
“What do you want from me?”
“When the time comes,” Siobhan says, “I want you to help take my father to court. And put him down under. So to speak,” she adds. “And I’ll help make sure that if my father ever says anything about you, nobody believes it.”
After Siobhan, it’s Kendall.
“Shiv talked to you.” He’s worse at keeping conversation than she is. “I would also be involved in this. I’d take my dad’s place as CEO, Roman becomes COO.”
“I take him to court, I’m told.”
“Yeah. Yeah, you do, and you win,” he says carefully. “And then you get so much money you can run away to some foreign country and forget any of this happened.”
You regard him carefully. “How can I trust you? Or Siobhan? Or anyone in this fucking place?”
Kendall pauses, and takes a moment to think. “You can’t,” is all he says before leaving you standing on your own once again.
Finally, Roman makes his way back to you. You bristle as you watch him approach. “I know you don’t really like me right now, but I want to go home and I can’t leave without you on my arm. So, shall we?”
You roll your eyes, but take his elbow anyway.
#roman roy#roman roy x you#roman roy x reader#succession#succession hbo#succession fic#succession x reader#slowburn#roman roy slowburn#romantic drama#succession slowburn#x reader slowburn#wambsgansshoelaces#turmoil
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hell, yeah ; series masterlist.
pairing ; roman roy x f!reader
series synopsis ; pain was an old friend for the both of you.
wc ; 105.3k and counting!
themes ; fluff, angst, drama, slowburn, smut, childhood friends to lovers
warnings / includes ; drugs, alcohol, depictions of abuse, mentions of death, hospitals, a lot of sexual jokes and general foul language, sexual situations, reader is logan's goddaughter, a lot of business talk, roman being an asshole, emotional constipation
main masterlist.
chapter one.
“Jump, you fuckin’ pussy!” exclaimed Roman, though he was quick to shut his mouth when his therapist flung himself into the pool face-first.
chapter two.
“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.
chapter three.
“We were kids,” you mumbled tiredly. Blurry memories of leering, smoking men and jaunty laughter crossed your mind. “How could I have known?”
chapter four.
Kendall’s expression seemed to soften, recalling how the two of you would always argue over the last remaining strawberry popsicle during the summers you were still little children. When you would grab it from the freezer before he could, he’d tug on your pigtails and call you mean as you denied ever taking them, and you’d hide the wrappers in Rome’s room so he’d never know it was you. But he could always tell from the sticky red on the corners of your mouth and your sugar-highs that seemed to last for a little too long.
chapter five.
“Dad,” Roman said, disrupting the eerie, tense silence. “Please?” He was a child asking for a dog again. He was a teenager asking to come home from military school again. He was a young adult asking for his dad to stop hitting him again.
chapter six.
You sipped on a glass of champagne that Kendall handed you. There was more chatter—amicable and light and teasing. You poked fun at Kendall’s lame hat whilst Shiv plainly told Roman that his shoes were a size too large for his feet. That his feet were small and dainty and he would fall over if they were any smaller. More drinks, more giggling, more stories. You learned that fresh-faced college Kendall once puked on Stewy’s bed and cried at the foot of it after drinking too much. You told the siblings that you once slept with Angelina from accounting during your first year at the company, to which they responded with shocked snorts. There was a point where Roman grabbed your face and kissed you and kissed you until the rest of the siblings began faux-gagging, and Connor complained that it was like watching his siblings make out. Goddaughter-and-son incest, he’d said.
chapter seven coming soon!
#roman roy x reader#roman roy fanfiction#roman roy fluff#roman roy series#roman roy ff#roman roy smut#roman roy angst#roman roy x you#roman roy fanfic#succession roman x reader#succession roman#roman roy#succession fanfiction#succession x reader#roman roy imagine
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this is a bit of a long shot but haii i'm a 23 year old dude seeking a m/m rp with someone who would be down to play roman roy (from hbo's succession) against my male oc! def looking for a slowburn romance type plot (possibly with oc as his personal assistant, not married to this idea though) with roman-typical weirdness but i'm super flexible on any other plot details
no minors please bc i'm an adult! i'm totally fine with nsfw content, dead dove, and any succession-typical sensitive topics
i'm super active (i do work a 9-5 but am active outside those hours also also sometimes on the clock heh) and i write in third person semi-lit/lit! i prefer to rp over discord but i can do whatever.
it's been a while since i've been on the tumblr rp scene but i have been rping in general for a long time.
will reach out to anyone who likes this post !! ty 🐾❤️
-
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this is a bit of a long shot but haii i'm a 23 year old dude seeking a m/m rp with someone who would be down to play roman roy (from hbo's succession) against my male oc! def looking for a slowburn romance type plot (possibly with oc as his personal assistant, not married to this idea though) with roman-typical weirdness but i'm super flexible on any other plot details
no minors bc i'm an adult! i'm totally fine with nsfw content, dead dove, and any succession-typical sensitive topics.
i'm super active (i do work a 9-5 but am active outside those hours also also sometimes on the clock heh) and i write in third person semi-lit/lit! i prefer to rp over discord but i can do whatever.
it's been a while since i've been on the tumblr rp scene but i have been rping in general for a long time
will reach out to anyone who likes this post !! ty 🐾❤️
give a like and anon will get back to you
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o my god gerri is so focused on the things that she can rationalize and work to her advantage. and she watches the roy siblings break down. she watches roman, pure emotion, come to her and beg her to help him and she cares about him so much but she cant make it make sense. she literally begs him to tell her how to help. to tell her what he needs from her. to tell her how to rework this in the best interest of the company she has sworn to protect. but he’s so distraught that he just feels abandoned
#besties…i fear that we’re in for the long haul#i think that we will be slowburning for a while#im in…im here for it…#succession spoilers#succession#romangerri#roman roy#gerri kellman
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Chapters: 6/?
Fandom: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Female Character(s), Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Jason Todd/Reader, Jason Todd/You
Characters: Jason Todd, Original Female Character(s), Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Selina Kyle, Harleen Quinzel, Pamela Isley, Roman Sionis, Roy Harper, Koriand'r (DCU), Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown
Additional Tags: tw: non-explicit rape on prologue, metahuman OC, slowburn romance, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Damian Wayne is Robin, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson Friendship, will do a trigger warning in every chapter, reader has a name and it is Grace, tw:homophobia in a few chapters, not beta read we die like men
Summary:
“He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” – Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
Grace Henderson is trying to live a normal and
boring
life, as in not using her powers that much or trying to take the law into her own hands, but Gotham City makes it very difficult.
A lot.
The city never rests and every day something new happens. Most of the time it is bad, who is she kidding? Nevertheless, for the past year, she has been quite successful with it.
Until Harley Quinn crosses her path, decides to crack her skull open on a bathroom's mirror in a nightclub, and subsequently tries to kill Grace when she tries to stop her from killing herself.
Nothing will ever be the same for Grace after that night.
#NEW CHAPTER IS UP!#jason todd x you#jason todd x reader#jason todd x oc#jason todd imagine#jason todd fanfiction#aewae ff#my writing
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Le Roi de la Nuit de Laura Thalassa
🔥Mon #avis sur Le Roi de la Nuit / @Ed_Bookmark
👉Un roman d’urban fantasy qui fait la part belle à la romance et malheureusement au détriment de l’intrigue principale. Ce n’est pour moi clairement pas un slowburn, mais ce n’est que mon avis.
Un nouveau livre de Laura Thalassa, alors là, je ne dis jamais non ! J’aime beaucoup la plume de cette autrice et j’étais impatiente de lire son nouveau bébé de papier. Bon, le titre, Le roi de la nuit, je ne sais pas pour vous, mais moi ça me fait penser à un as des pistes de danse. Je sais, j’ai le cerveau tout ramolli, enfin bon. Le résumé me tentait et pour une fois, j’aime bien la couverture…
View On WordPress
#Collection Infinity#Fae#Fantasy#imaginaire#laura thalassa#Le roi de la nuit#Les secrets de l&039;autremonde#romance#Romance Paranormale#sirène#Urban Fantasy
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and empty words are evil
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2WKcrU9
by missvandone
“He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” – Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
Grace Henderson is trying to live a normal and boring life, as in not using her powers that much or trying to take the law into her own hands, but Gotham City makes it very difficult.
A lot.
The city never rests and every day something new happens. Most of the time it is bad, who is she kidding? Nevertheless, for the past year, she has been quite successful with it.
Until Harley Quinn crosses her path, decides to crack her skull open on a bathroom's mirror in a nightclub, and subsequently tries to kill Grace when she tries to stop her from killing herself.
Nothing will ever be the same for Grace after that night.
Words: 1134, Chapters: 1/16, Language: English
Fandoms: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Categories: F/M
Characters: Jason Todd, Original Female Character(s), Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Selina Kyle, Harleen Quinzel, Pamela Isley, Roman Sionis, Roy Harper, Koriand'r (DCU), Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown
Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Female Character(s), Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Additional Tags: tw: non-explicit rape on prologue, metahuman OC, slowburn romance, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Damian Wayne is Robin, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson Friendship, will do a trigger warning in every chapter
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2WKcrU9
0 notes
Text
and empty words are evil
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2WKcrU9
by missvandone
“He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” – Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
Grace Henderson is trying to live a normal and boring life, as in not using her powers that much or trying to take the law into her own hands, but Gotham City makes it very difficult.
A lot.
The city never rests and every day something new happens. Most of the time it is bad, who is she kidding? Nevertheless, for the past year, she has been quite successful with it.
Until Harley Quinn crosses her path, decides to crack her skull open on a bathroom's mirror in a nightclub, and subsequently tries to kill Grace when she tries to stop her from killing herself.
Nothing will ever be the same for Grace after that night.
Words: 1134, Chapters: 1/16, Language: English
Fandoms: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Categories: F/M
Characters: Jason Todd, Original Female Character(s), Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Selina Kyle, Harleen Quinzel, Pamela Isley, Roman Sionis, Roy Harper, Koriand'r (DCU), Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown
Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Female Character(s), Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Additional Tags: tw: non-explicit rape on prologue, metahuman OC, slowburn romance, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Damian Wayne is Robin, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson Friendship, will do a trigger warning in every chapter
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2WKcrU9
0 notes
Text
and empty words are evil
by missvandone
“He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” – Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
Grace Henderson is trying to live a normal and boring life, as in not using her powers that much or trying to take the law into her own hands, but Gotham City makes it very difficult.
A lot.
The city never rests and every day something new happens. Most of the time it is bad, who is she kidding? Nevertheless, for the past year, she has been quite successful with it.
Until Harley Quinn crosses her path, decides to crack her skull open on a bathroom's mirror in a nightclub, and subsequently tries to kill Grace when she tries to stop her from killing herself.
Nothing will ever be the same for Grace after that night.
Words: 1134, Chapters: 1/16, Language: English
Fandoms: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Categories: F/M
Characters: Jason Todd, Original Female Character(s), Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Selina Kyle, Harleen Quinzel, Pamela Isley, Roman Sionis, Roy Harper, Koriand'r (DCU), Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown
Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Female Character(s), Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Additional Tags: tw: non-explicit rape on prologue, metahuman OC, slowburn romance, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Damian Wayne is Robin, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson Friendship, will do a trigger warning in every chapter
source https://archiveofourown.org/works/24137074
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Turmoil; Chapter 7
Roman Roy x Reader
a/n: catch the easter egg hehe
Word Count: 2.60k
Just one day, you tell yourself. One day to forget about all the bullshit in your life and just enjoy yourself. It is a party in your name, after all.
After some moaning and groaning from Roman, you manage to drag him out of bed and get him ready. You stand, hips touching, as he messes with his cologne and you put in your earrings.
“You know some shit is going to happen today,” he mutters.
“Why would you say that?” you chide. “We should be relaxed. It’s our last night here.”
“Murphy’s Law, Y/N.”
“I didn’t know you were smart enough to know what that is.” He smacks your shoulder lightly. “What? I’m being honest,” you tease, smoothing out the wrinkles in the dress you’d picked out a few days before.
“I’m extremely intelligent, just so you know.”
“Sure, Roman.” You laugh.
“I’m the one who got Connor’s watch. And…,” he says conspiratorially, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “I got someone’s personal bank records.”
“I love it when a man commits federal crimes for me,” you say faux-dreamily, smiling at him.
“Y/N, it’s not illegal, if I, er, found them.”
“We’ll talk about it later. I want a stress-free night.”
“Murphy’s Law,” he repeats. “What can go wrong will go wrong.”
“Is it too much to ask of your father to keep his opinions to himself for one night?” you ask, sighing. You perfect your look in the mirror before stepping away form Roman.
He follows you out the door, his fingers subtly intertwined with yours. He’s warmed up to your touch- not that he’s ever not liked it. Kissing, apparently, is still out of the question. You’d realized when you tried giving him a peck good night before bed the other day.
You can’t even begin to count all the people in attendance tonight. You don’t know most of them, as you’d expected, which makes your job more difficult. You have to make yourself look good- and Logan.
You mill about, doing what Roman refers to as ‘standing there and looking so damn pretty’, watching the crowd. He’d scuttled off in the name of finding desserts, leaving you to yourself and your thoughts. Logan had spared no expense for his son- chandeliers were lit, servers were flitting here and there, tables upon tables of food were laid out.
While your situation is less than ideal, you’re able to appreciate nice things when they come.
You idly sip from your glass, letting your gaze rake over the crowd. Logan is sitting by himself off to a corner, seemingly trying to gather his strength to even get up. You wonder where Marcia is, and you briefly feel a pang of sympathy. Only briefly.
Shiv is more than likely flirting with some random guy, you tell yourself, Kendall probably asleep in a separate room. Connor is entertaining his own circle of guests, in his element. He makes weird flapping motions with his arms, and you’re thankful you weren’t pulled into that conversation. Greg is happily munching on an assortment of treats. You’re delighted he’s gotten a break. He’s a good man; he deserves it.
Your gaze snags on a strangely already-balding young man. Before you’d left for this party, Roman had shown you a headshot of the accountant Connor was working with. He seemed freshly out of college, but both his face and certain records you’re sure you’ll be able to dig up say otherwise. If anything, he was suspicious.
To your dismay, he makes his way over to you. You hope this won’t be a repeat of the charity gala- you don’t think you’ll be able to control yourself this time. This guy has a punchable face, anyway.
“The future Mrs. Roy,” he says heartily. You lazily raise your glass to him. “I’ve been keen to meet you.” He talks like an old man, too. “I’m the one who directed my client to you when his things got stolen at the hotel.”
You straighten slightly. “Were you, now? I thought it just came with our… familial ties.” You flash your engagement ring at him.
“I mean, of course that’d be the natural course of thought. Regardless, I had to make sure he went with the best, and you’re the best.”
You’re certain he’s trying to kiss your ass. The question is why. You fold one of your arms over your torso and regard him. “Who are you, again?”
He straightens his blazer and extends his hand out to the one you currently have holding your glass. Jerkily, he puts it back down by his side and says, “Peirce Thompson. Thompson & Thompson Accounting and Banking.”
“What a firm name,” you say blandly.
“My brother and I started the thing up from our bedroom way back when, and the name’s just stuck.”
“So you’ve been around a while, then?”
“Oh, ages, absolute ages.” He dusts off an imaginary bit of lint from his shoulder. You press your lips together.
“Why haven’t I heard of you, then?” you ask carefully.
“Psh, your type of law and my finance rarely collide,” he says condescendingly. “We’re in two different worlds, sweetheart.”
Trying not to recede into yourself, you give him a strange look. What he’s saying is bullshit- you know your way around economics, and you run your own firm. Clearly, you have a handle on finance. “If you say so.”
As if Connor’s shenanigans couldn’t get more confusing. This accountant banker bitch reeks of fish- both figuratively and literally, unfortunately.
“I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you ever personally taken care of many fraud cases?”
“Depends on the kind of fraud we’re talking about.” You manage to catch Kendall’s eyes over Peirce’s shoulder. You subtly widen and release your eyelids, trying to get him to come over.
“Er, tax fraud.”
”Sure I have. Why do you ask?” You turn your gaze back to his.
“Only wondering. Some issues are arising with… clients.”
“Clients, huh?”
Thankfully, before he can say anything, Kendall claps his hand over Peirce’s shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d be here today,” Kendall says stiffly. “Funny you’d show your face after raking up the interest for my dad by ‘forgetting’ to pay his taxes.” You have to keep yourself from laughing. Kendall continues. “You’ve met my sister? Trying to weasel your way into her finances, too?” He shifts to stand shoulder to shoulder with you. Your heart warms when he refers to you as family.
Peirce grits his teeth. “Lies don’t look good on you, Mr. Roy.”
Kendall snorts before pressing a hand to your back and guiding you away. “Thanks,” you murmur to him as you both slip away.
“He makes me want to rip my hair out. I’ve got you.”
You both make your way to a table, taking seats. You’d been standing for so long your feet were aching. Roman finds you and pulls a chair up right next to yours, and when he sits, he makes sure his leg is touching yours.
Kendall takes note, his eyes flickering from you to Roman. “What happened to ‘I’m going to kill her before I let her near me?’”
You laugh. “You said that?”
“I say lots of things I don’t remember.” Roman pushes a plate piled high with sweets towards you. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got you everything.”
You give his knee a pat. “I appreciate you trying, Roman, but that’s way too much.”
“We’ll all share,” he insists. Kendall smiles, taking the miniature slice of German chocolate cake and setting it on his place.
“My wife catered,” he says simply. “She owns that bakery you like, Y/N. The one always open on the holidays.”
You smile softly at him. You’re happy that he’s happy. You and Roman pig out on the sweets, chattering comfortably until his eyes catch someone as they cross the room.
He somehow manages to smack Kendall’s chest from across the table and stares back into the crowd.
You and Kendall both follow Roman’s gaze. You just barely catch Marcia as she slips out of the main atrium, a man in tow.
Kendall must see something you don’t. “Give me your fucking phone,” he says quickly. Without thinking, you hand it to him and he power walks after her. You and Roman follow, albeit much slower because Kendall already looks crazy.
Kendall’s leagues ahead of you at this point, but he’s slow enough that you and Roman can tail him. You wind through the corridors until the three of you have stopped in an eerily empty hallway. Kendall is peeping into the sitting area that dead-ends the hall, and almost immediately doubles back, seemingly sick. He steels himself, then takes your phone and sticks it through the doorway and starts filming.
Peeking over his shoulder, you wince.
Marcia has a fuck buddy, and it isn’t Logan Roy.
As desperately as you want to get rid of the image of Marcia having sex from your brain, you can’t. It simultaneously makes you want to puke but also, disgustingly, elated that you now have something over her- and by proxy, Logan.
After an excruciating five minutes, the three of you had gone back to the party. You and Roman had danced a bit, and he’d admittedly embarrassed you with his extremely out-of-date moves. Despite it all, you’d found yourself laughing and having more fun than you’d had in ages.
Now, you’re struggling to unzip the back of your dress. Roman’s stooped over the sink, aggressively washing his face.
“Rome, you’re going to rip it off. Calm down,” you manage, tongue between your teeth as you continue to attempt to pull down the zipper.
He pats his face dry with a towel. “I’m being thorough.” Without being asked,he comes over to you and tugs the zipper open. “You should wear that more often.”
“I literally just got it.”
“Yeah. Keep wearing it.” His hands go to sit on your hips, gently rubbing.
“What’s with the affection all of the sudden?” He settles his face into your shoulder as you move to put your hair up. “Not that I’m complaining.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Getting more comfortable,” he says into your skin. “I don’t… I’ve never had a relationship like this. Where we genuinely liked each other.” You stay silent, letting him gather his thoughts. “I’m just scared. But we’ve been over that before.”
”You can always tell me how you’re feeling,” you say softly.
“I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t think I’ll physically be able to handle it.” Roman pulls away from you, padding into the bedroom. You quickly change into your pajamas before following him, slipping under the covers by his side. “I also don’t want to hurt you,” he says quietly.
“What makes you think you’ll hurt me?”
“I don’t exactly have the greatest track record with relationships, do I? Behind all that hoity toity lawyer stuff, you’re so horribly kind. It makes me sick, honestly.” He’s facing you, pain flickering across his face. “People have never really liked me for me, you know? It’s always just for my money, or my brother, or Dad. It’s like… it’s like I’m not even here.”
You take a moment before responding. “I see you. You work hard, Roman. I should express my appreciation more.”
You’re right. Despite your consistent bickering in the beginning, Roman was dedicated to what you were trying to do together. Like clockwork, he’d have paperwork on your desk or news articles sent or even a mug of coffee. Recently, too- he’d helped you confirm Connor was lying, and now he apparently has dirt on his finances- and financier.
“Even though you’re honestly a jerk, I think deep down under all of that clownery you’re a good guy,” you murmur.
“You’re so backhanded,” he complains, reaching across you to pull you into him. His arm wraps around your back, the other sitting on the back of your thigh as he shifts you on top of him. You set your cheek on his chest.
“Really, Roman. I think you’re too hard on yourself.” His fingers trace circles into your skin.
“I don’t even know what I’m talking about.” You catch your eyes drooping as he speaks. “I want to try this. Seriously. Actually.”
“You can,” you murmur back. “We can.”
“I want to start acting like a real couple. I want you to trust me, to feel safe with me.”
You sigh happily as his fingers continue their ministrations. “I already do.”
“That makes you kind of stupid, really.” Roman presses a hesitant kiss to your head. “Like you said, I’m a jerk, and on top of that, I’m vain, self absorbed, wickedly good looking…”
“Oh, shut up.” You laugh lightly into his chest.
He does, for a few moments. “Y/N?”
“Hm?”
He gently takes your chin, tilting it up enough so he can look at you. You can tell he’s fighting with himself in his mind. Shakily, he presses his lips to yours.
It’s a stiff, awkward kiss, and he pulls away quickly.
“Good night, Y/N.”
☾𖤓
The next morning, you’re leaning against the wall, fighting off sleep. Your flight is bright and early, and therefore so are you. Roman insisted to carry all of your luggage out to the car, so you stand in the foyer, avoiding the outside chill of the morning. You and Greg talk about nothing while Kendall stares into his empty coffee cup, Shiv on his other side, teeth chattering.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you- I’ve gotten a few bank statements I want you to take a look at. Don’t worry about them now, though. I don’t want you stressing until we get back. I mean, I don’t want you stressing at all, and I’m just trying to preserve the peace until we get back to the States. I mean- I don’t know what I mean.”
You give his arm an affectionate squeeze, and he rubs the grogginess from his eyes.
Roman shuffles back in, his breath clouding out in front of him before he steps back into the heat. “Santa took a fat shit outside.”
“How poetic,” you mutter in response. “You have such a way with words.”
He waits for the other three to file out of the foyer before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Just for you.”
The flight back is lethargic. Nobody wants to get back to work, least of all you. Roman’s sprawled across your lap, and you idly scratch at his scalp. Kendall sits on your other side, slumped against you with his blanket pulled over his head. Shiv once again sits across from you, her legs once again propped up on the side of your lap Roman isn’t occupying. Greg has a sofa all to himself, his legs sticking off the end as he snores lightly.
Logan, again, had elected to take a different flight. It’s for the better, anyway.
“You think I can hire a hit man without getting arrested?” Shiv asks you nonchalantly.
“I want to see you try.” You give her ankle a pat. “You’ll do great,” you tell her sarcastically. “I’ll be so excited to come see you during prison visiting hours. If you get any.”
“Oh, be quiet. I’d execute it perfectly.”
“I really do hope you’re joking. Do you know how stupid people who hire ‘hit men’ are?” you ask, making air quotes with your free hand.
“What? It’d be fun, I think.”
“Stop thinking, then, Shiv.”
The rest of the long flight goes by slowly. When you step off the stairway and onto the asphalt, you take a breath of the smoke-infused air. It’s disgusting compared to the crisp, Norwegian air. Your nose scrunches.
“Fuckin’ gross…,” Kendall mutters as he gently pushes past you, his face mirroring yours. After everyone goes their separate ways, you and Roman are left to each other in the backseat of the car taking you back to your apartment.
The rest of the day is lazy. You spend it curled together on the couch.
#succession#succession fic#succession hbo#roman roy#wambsgansshoelaces#succession x reader#turmoil#roman roy x reader#roman roy x you#roman roy slowburn#I’m back pookies
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Turmoil; Chapter 4
Roman Roy x Reader
a/n: I’m back on that grind guys. enjoy x
Word Count: 2.744k
“You’re fucking lucky Y/N was there,” Kendall says, struggling not to raise his voice. “You’re so fucking lucky your vote didn’t tip the scale.”
You’re back in Kendall’s office, you and him perched on his sofa while Roman is stood, leaning against the wall.
“I… I just couldn’t,” he says meekly.
“Then why’d we agree to a vote of no confidence?” you ask. “Roman, I get if your feelings are complicated about this, but you almost fucked us over.“
“Why am I doing this again?” he asks, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.
Kendall scoffs. “You need to think about what you want. Dad’s a horrible person doing horrible things. You can go run to him, but I’m staying here.”
“We go to Norway tomorrow. How about we just have a good time?” Roman suggests. “There’s nothing we- or he, for the matter, can do while we’re abroad. I need… I just need a break.” You roll your eyes and get to your feet.
“Whatever, Roman. I’ll see you at home.” You give Kendall an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder before going out and finding Greg in the bullpen.
“Oh, hello, Y/N.” He finishes whatever it is he was doing and turns in his chair to face you. “I could hear the… commotion from all the way over here. And I saw the police, and, uh, Kendall’s still alive, so…?”
“Yeah. It worked, surprisingly. They had to escort Logan out the conference room.” You drag a hand over your eyes. “Instead of dinner, want to go out for lunch? I like you, Greg, but my brain’s going to be fried by the time the work day’s over, and I don’t want to subject you to that.”
He smooths his dress pants at the knee before getting up. “Yeah, no, yeah, that’d be great.” He glances over your shoulder. “Uh, is he okay?”
You follow his gaze, peering into Kendall’s office to find Roman facing you both, watching intently with his hands folded behind his back. “Don’t mind him. He’s neurotic.” You touch your thumb to the cool gold of the ring sitting on your finger.
“Well, then, after you.” You walk across the street to a quaint brunch spot that’s hailed for it’s food. “I love this place,” Greg tells you. The conversation pivots, however, when you both are seated. “Shiv told me you need some, what should I say… favors?”
“We do, and I’m sorry it’s all been dumped on you.”
“No, it’s okay. It makes me feel important.”
You laugh. “What do you have in mind? Shiv tell you anything?”
“I’ve been thinking- and it’s completely valid if my voice isn’t relevant to you, but I’d like to share my thoughts -that instead of whaling so hard on Logan directly, why not try to get access to him through Marcia? Or any past… connection?”
“Do you think we’ll be able to find anything?”
”I heard, through the grapevine, of course, a few rumors about Marcia and a… new friend.”
“If you find anything,” you say carefully, “I think you know what to do.”
“I also have heard a lot of complaining from people who work directly under him. Or, used to, I guess.”
“I think the general consensus is that he’s a criminal piece of shit. We just can’t find any proof.”
“I think I’ll be able to find something.” He tentatively picks up the menu laid out in front of him.
“Do you think you’ll make it out to Norway?”
“Me? I think Roman would shoot me.”
“You should come, after you deal with things here. Everyone could use a break.”
“I’ll try. I do really need to get out of here for a while.”
“If Roman’s giving you trouble, you can tell me, you know.”
“Oh, it isn’t anything new. I don’t know what it is with him. He has his own issues he doesn’t know how to deal with, so sometimes he projects.”
“That’s profound,” you say. “You’re right to not think anything of it. I know him well enough by now to say I don’t think he thinks before doing anything.”
You both order, and conversation comes easily to the two of you. Greg’s a wholesome guy, you think. He makes you comfortable, and you know you can trust him.
“I wanted to tell you something,” he says after a while. “I haven’t seen Connor in a bit. But last time I did see him, he was on the phone with some lawyer, talking about a lawsuit. And I’m almost 100% sure it wasn’t you, because I know your name isn’t Brad.”
You give your drink a slow stir. “Did you catch what the lawsuit was about?”
“All I heard were the words ‘negligence’ and ‘innkeepers law’.”
You press your lips together. None of this seems right. “Is it possible you can figure out the firm he was speaking with?”
“I’ll do my best. I figured you’d want to know.”
“I do. Thank you, Greg.”
Eventually, after a fight over bill(which you won), you hail a taxi and make your way back home. You kick your heels off by the door, Roman’s dress shoes haphazardly strewn in the same vicinity. You pad into the kitchen and toss your keys onto the counter, clocking Roman sat on the couch.
“Greg, huh?”
“What about him?” You pull a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Do you like him?”
“Yeah, I do. He’s respectful and I can trust him,” you say acridly.
“I respect you. A lot, actually.”
“You don’t show it. It’s not a competition, anyway. Why do you care?”
“We’re engaged.”
You roll your eyes at his childishness. It’s starting to get on your nerves. “We’re just friends, remember? Your words, not mine.” You leave the kitchen and wander into your room. You don’t think Roman’s ever slept in the bed- he’s been living on the couch. He gets up and follows you. “Even if I was into Greg- which I’m not -what’s your deal?”
“I lied to you. That morning.” You’re sitting at your desk now, and stare up at him.
“About?”
“What I remember.” He takes both your hands. “I remember everything I said. I meant it.”
You can feel your face begin to heat up. “Are you drunk?”
“Sober. I swear it.” He uses his finger to draw a cross over his heart, still gripping your hand in his.
“What’s your point here, Roman?”
“I want to try being something. I want us to try being something.”
“Are we just ignoring the fact that you threw us under the fucking bus?”
“Yes, we are. We’ll talk about that later, I promise.” He gets to his knees, resting his cheek on your thigh as he looks at you. “I want to do something right, for once. I want to do this right.”
You’re sat frozen in place. You force yourself to card a hand through his hair, pushing it from his face.
“You were on the news, once. Giving some legal advice before my father went on air for some propagandist bullshit. I thought you were so fucking hot. I mean, I still do-” He cuts himself off. “What I’m trying to say is, I like you, you’re fucking gorgeous, and while the situation we’re in is less than ideal, I want to make something out of it.” You stay silent. “You’re kind, funny, you’re brighter than the fucking sun. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, but I’m just some piece of garbage who keeps making things between us worse. Friends? I was lying, then, too. I’ll never be able to accept you as just a friend. I’ll never stop wanting you.”
“Really?” is all you can manage.
“Yes, really. And I know I’m an asshole. I’m proud of it, 90% of the time. That last 10% is when I’m with you and I feel so fucking guilty I made that precious smile of yours disappear. It eats me alive that I piss you off. That you don’t like me. But that’s all I’ve ever been capable of doing.”
“So change it. Make me like you,” you say quietly. Reluctantly, he pulls himself to his feet and instead hooks his arms under you, hoisting you up. He takes your place in your desk chair, settling you on his lap.
“You deserve lots better than me, Y/N.” Roman keeps his arms wound around you, one tight around your waist, the other across your back, anchoring you to him. “I don’t know what I was doing this morning. I get so scared of him, Y/N. It’s like he was looking into my soul.”
“If you think I deserve better,” you begin, “become better.” You let yourself lean into his chest. “As for the vote, I still think you’re an asshole.”
He sighs. “And that’s fair. Kendall ripped me a new one after you left.”
“Good.” His hand wanders idly up and down your back, gently massaging knots of tension that he can find. “Roman Roy, realizing the consequences of his actions.” You drag a finger across his jaw. “Am I dreaming?”
”If we are, I don’t want to wake up.”
“So, what now?”
“We be all lovey-dovey. I mean, we’re already engaged.”
You snort. “You can’t stop saying that.”
“Who wouldn’t, when engaged to someone who looks like you?” He gives your ass a quick pinch.
“Roman!”
“Sorry. Had to,” he says, grinning stupidly. “Jokes aside though, I want to take it slow.”
“I… Yeah. Let’s take it slow.”
“You do want this, right?” he asks quietly.
“I’ve wanted you since the minute we made eye contact.” You stifle a smile. “You’re sexy when you have a stubble. What happened to it?”
“What, I’m not sexy now?” He absentmindedly draws a hand over his smooth jaw. “I’ll grow it back for you.”
“Hey, I’m just kidding. You’re sexy now, don’t worry.” Roman grunts and moves the two of you to bed.
“What? My back hurts.” He sinks into his side of the bed. “Please don’t make me sleep on the couch again.”
“You’re always welcome here.” You sigh happily and roll out of bed.
“Where are you going?”
“To brush my teeth and get ready for bed, unlike some slob I know. No outside clothes on my bed, Roman.”
You duck the pillow he chucks at you.
As you progress through your nightly routine, eventually, he comes to stand with you at the sink. You make a face at him before returning to your business. For a bit, he just watches you, happy to just be in your presence. When he starts brushing his teeth, he hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you close.
You protest halfheartedly, and he rolls his eyes at you before spitting his toothpaste out. “Quit whining,” he tells you, giving your hip a squeeze.
“I’m building a wall between us tonight,” you threaten lightly.
“I was a rock climber as a kid.” He pokes you gently. “Now that you’ve let me into your cold, shriveled up heart, I’m not leaving.”
“You still have a lot of work to do, Roman,” you chide. “Just because you got onto your knees for the first time in your life doesn’t mean everything’s magically okay.”
You both pad back into your bedroom, crawling under the covers together. “I thought we could kiss and make up,” he says, propped up on his arm, facing you. You curl up on your side, also facing him.
“Absolutely not,” you tell him. “You’re going to sit here and explain yourself. Or you’re sleeping on the floor.”
He sighs, pulling up the blankets so that you’re both covered. “It’s like I blacked out. I was so scared, Y/N.”
“Why? He can’t do anything to you, Roman, especially now that I’m involved in all this.”
“It’s complicated,” he mutters.
”We have time,” you urge gently.
“It’s the way I grew up, I guess.” He collapses onto his back. “He’d snap over the smallest things. My entire childhood I was walking on eggshells. I don’t… It’s such a bad excuse. God, I feel horrible.” He covers his face with his hands.
You crawl over, close enough to him where you’re able to set your cheek onto his chest and still lay comfortably. You’re still facing him, and one of his hands moves to sit on your hip. “I think I was too harsh on you,” you murmur. “Don’t get me wrong, it still was a dick move, but I get it. Just promise you’ll do better, okay?”
He peels his other hand off of his face to wind it through your hair. “I promise. I promise.” You press a kiss to his chest, to which he stiffens. “Don’t,” he says quietly. “Don’t.”
Hesitantly, you pull away from him, settling on your side of the bed and facing the other way. You fall asleep without saying anything else.
You wake up to an empty bed. You thought it was going so well, too. You drag yourself out of bed and find him in the kitchen. Wordlessly, he pushes you a mug of coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs.
“I felt bad. But then I remembered I don’t know how to cook,” Roman says meekly. “I’m sorry. It’s getting too real for me.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I, uh, ‘ve never been in a serious relationship. Not with someone I like this much. I don’t… I don’t want to fuck this up, Y/N.”
You try wiping the bleariness from your face. “I don’t understand you, Rome.”
He reaches out, wiping a bit of coffee from your lip. “I hope you can learn to.”
“As long as you put in the effort, too.” You look up at him. “I don’t mean to pressure you into anything you don’t want. I just mean I want you to actually try.” You take a sip from your mug. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you haven’t exactly been… proactive the last week.”
He leans against the counter behind him. “Who’s the one who went out with another man?”
“Roman, that doesn’t have anything to do with anything.” You laugh as he jabs a hand into your side.
“I’m not going to let you forget it.”
“It’s Greg. Wholesome, kind, Greg.”
“You should’ve been out with me.”
“Take me out, then.”
He bridges the small distance between you and fits his hands into the curves of your waist. “I’ll be all over you in Norway, don’t worry.” He takes the heel of his palm and massages circles into the skin of your hip.
“We need to leave soon,” you tell him. You want to kiss him, but you know you can’t.
“I haven’t even packed,” he says lightly.
“Roman!”
“God, I’ll never get sick of hearing that.”
You drag him into the closet and roll his suitcase over to him. “Get to it.”
☾𖤓
At the airport, Roman carries all of your bags for you. He even demands to hold your purse, a cute short strapped Prada you’d treated yourself to the first big check you’d received. He holds it by the handle over his shoulder the same way one would hold a jacket. He looks silly with his sunglasses on and your purse sitting on his back. It’s endearing, and you smile softly at him.
In the car out to the private jet, you and Shiv make plans to go out shopping your first day in Norway. Willa sits cramped next to Connor, and you feel bad, so you and Shiv invite her. Kendall’s practically snoring on Roman’s shoulder. The poor guy’s been working dusk till dawn this whole ordeal. He deserves the break.
You’re glad Logan won’t be taking the same plane as the six of you. You wouldn’t be able to handle it- the paranoia, his snide comments, and hell, even just his voice would set you off.
You and Shiv settle across from each other on the plane, her feet propped up in your lap. Roman’s slumped against you, asleep, and you think he’s drooling. Kendall sits across from him, also asleep, neck pillow and sleeping mask on like the sleeping beauty he is.
You sigh contentedly.
If you close your eyes, you can pretend like the threat that is Logan Roy isn’t dangling over your heads.
If you close your eyes, you can pretend like you’re just travelling with your chosen family.
If you close your eyes, you can pretend like you’re at peace.
#turmoil#wambsgansshoelaces#roman roy#roman roy slowburn#roman roy x you#roman roy x reader#succession#succession fic#succession hbo#succession x reader#romantic drama
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Turmoil: Chapter 3
Roman Roy x Reader
a/n: idk what it is guys, but I kind of hate this chapter. I feel like I didn’t hit the nail on the head this time but instead hit someone in the face. garbage writing aside, I hope you enjoy x :,)
Word Count: 2.186k
Your new apartment isn’t much of an upgrade, but it’s still nice, and you’re confident you’ll be able to turn it into your own.
After his drunken confession in the car, Roman had cried, thrown up in the toilet, and promptly passed out on the couch. You think it’s best you let him sleep. He’s exhausted himself like a toddler unaware of their body.
You sit cross legged on the armchair adjacent to the couch, leaving you able to keep an eye on Roman. Sure, he was an asshole, but he’d had way too much to drink and you didn’t want him to hurt himself.
The only part of getting a new apartment that miffed you was the fact that Logan had made sure it was a single bedroom. When you’d asked him about it, he’d given you some bullshit about how you had to keep up appearances. You know it’s about the money, but you find it pointless to say so.
You decide that since you have to stay up to make sure Roman doesn’t kill himself in his drunken stupor, you’ll start on the paperwork for Connor’s lawsuit. If he really wants to waste your time, like Roman had suggested, he’d found the perfect way to do it. You begin drafting, Roman tossing and turning.
As you begin to fill out the same forms you had many times before, your mind floats elsewhere. What Roman had said in the car had admittedly made your heart flutter. The idea that there could actually be something between you two was something, to your dismay, that you wanted to explore. But because he was so damn drunk, you can’t take anything he said seriously. You doubt he’ll even remember anything when he wakes up.
He keeps shifting in his sleep, troubled, and from your vantage point you can see beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
You set aside your laptop and find a clean towelette in the kitchen. You get some ice from the fridge, chill some water, and dunk the rag into it before bringing it back to the living room.
Perching on the edge of the sofa, you gently coax Roman onto his back and drape the cool rag across his forehead after gently pushing his hair out of the way. He visibly relaxes, lips parting in a sigh.
Your heart aches a little, staring down at him. In another world, this might have worked.
But you have to stay in your current reality. And the lawsuit wouldn’t draft itself.
You don’t realize you fell asleep until you wake up the next morning. Your laptop still sits on your lap, and the stiffness in your joints is searing. Roman’s not there anymore. You don’t think he’s even in the apartment. So much for you staying to take care of him.
You find your phone on the floor. No messages from Roman, and you know the apartment is empty now. You sigh, feeling a bit dumb.
There is, however, an obscene amount of text messages from Connor. You deign not to respond, for your own mental health. Apart from Connor making you want to chuck your phone into the Hudson, there’s a message you actually find a little endearing.
At the dinner you’d asked Shiv to give your number to Greg so you two could sort things out for when you had to go to Norway.
xxx-xxx-xxxx; Unknown
Y/N,
Congratulations on your engagement, you will make a beautiful bride! I know we have some things to figure out, so I’d like to take you out for a friendly dinner. Please forward my congratulations to Roman. He has me blocked on everything.
Gregory Hirsch
You type out a response, biting back a laugh. You both agree to a casual dinner in a few days time- your treat, you insisted.
You mute Connor, who’s continued to spam you, and scroll through your emails when Kendall gives you a call. You pick up, and he asks, “Is bribery a felony?”
“Yeah, but it depends.”
“So. Hypothetically.”
“Hypothetically…”
“A man owns a large conglomerate that earns him millions. A certain politician runs a campaign that, if they were to come into power, would destroy said company from inside out because of some, er, under the table acquisitions…”
“A monopoly?”
“That’s the word. This person can’t come into power, that’d ruin things. But how do you get someone to lose that’s statistically projected to win?”
“What connections does Logan fucking have?” you hiss.
“Not on here.” Kendall sighs. “Is Roman with you? He won’t pick up his phone.”
“He got completely blackout drunk last night and passed out on the couch. I don’t know where he is.”
“He’ll turn up. Don’t worry. Board meeting in two days, okay?” He hangs up. You don’t dislike Kendall at all, he just has his… own way with words.
You’re pretty sure you can get away with working from home today. You’ll have your assistant fax whatever crosses your desk while you rot on the couch.
She does. The pictures Connor promised come through, and you thumb through them absentmindedly. Some rings, a Rolex, a jade bracelet, more expensive bullshit you don’t think anyone needs. You’ll tally the prices, inflate for ‘emotional damage’ and your time, and serve the hotel.
Your assistant texts you something about Connor bitching about the jade bracelet and how it’s one of a kind and you need to get it back. You make a note to get her a fancy gift for putting up with this bullshit.
You’re happy to have a calm day to yourself. You lounge around on the couch, idly doing some work. You hear a key moving around in the lock before Roman shoulders the door open.
He falters when he sees you.
“Uh, I’m home.”
You look up at him blankly.
“What? What’s with that face?”
You sigh and turn back to your computer.
“Hey,” he whines. “What’d I do?”
“You got drunk, fell asleep on the couch, then got up and left in the early morning without telling anyone where you went.”
He kicks his shoes off by the door then comes over and flops down next to you. “I’m here now.”
“Whatever.”
“I don’t like this side of you. You’re making me feel guilty.”
“Maybe you’re feeling guilty because you did something wrong.”
“I literally remember nothing from last night. I woke up early and went to the gym. That’s it.”
“Kendall’s been trying to contact you.”
“Yeah. Board meeting.” He props his feet up into your lap. “Can we talk?”
“About?”
“Us.”
You sigh and set your laptop on the coffee table.
“I know I’m a jerk. And I know I was a dick the day we met. And the day after that. And this morning.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. “So I thought I’d atone for my sins and get you something.” He shifts, replacing his feet with his head and instead letting his legs stretch out on the couch. With one hand, he takes yours and sets it on his chest, and uses the other one to pop the box open.
You can swear you’ve seen that ring in your dreams before. It’s gorgeous- perfect, even. And it’s the right size.
“Roman,” is all you can say.
“Give me your left hand.”
You do, and he slips the ring onto your left hand’s ring finger. He inspects it, albeit lopsidedly from his vantage point tucked up in your lap.
“Are you sure you remember nothing from yesterday?” you ask quietly, your other hand still perched on his chest.
“Not a lick. Difficult day.” He shifts his gaze to meet yours. “I think, despite everything, we can be friends.”
Friends.
“Yeah.” You pause. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.”
“It’s the only thing I know how to do. Throw money at things.”
☾𖤓
The sting of Roman’s words stay with you for the next few mornings, then when you’re getting ready for the board meeting. You don’t really know why you’re disappointed. What were you expecting? Why were you expecting anything in the first place?
He’d left for Waystar much earlier than you did. There’s a weird sort of tension between you now, even after your conversation. You’re wearing the ring. You can’t bring yourself to take it off.
You finish getting ready and find yourself in the harsh lighting at Waystar. You close your eyes in the elevator, the fluorescent lighting pissing you off more than usual.
“Hey, everything alright?” Greg Hirsch nudges you gently as the elevator lurches.
“Oh, hey!” You try to snap yourself out of it, but you can’t seem to get rid of the strain in your eyes. “Yeah. Fine.”
“I know things get pretty stressful. Especially in the position you’re in. Things get quite difficult.” He glances down at you. “Um, that sounded like a threat. Which it wasn’t. I’m on your side, to be clear.”
You chuckle. “I appreciate it, Greg.” You talk about nothing as he walks you to the conference room, and he gives you an encouraging pat on the shoulder before you step in. Kendall looks like he’s about to shit himself, Roman’s face down on the table, and the few others that are there are concerned with themselves. Kendall gives you a stiff nod, his leg bouncing up and down.
“Forget how to breathe?” you ask him, trying to lighten the mood. He ignores you and keeps himself locked in his self-imposed hell. Roman sits up at the sound of your voice, pulling out your chair for you. As you settle in, the room begins to fill.
Logan Roy is late.
When he actually does decide to grace the room with his presence, it’s twenty minutes past the meeting start time. Kendall hasn’t gotten any calmer, and Roman’s chewing on his cheek. He leans towards you and whispers, “What if he knows?”
“If he knew, he’d have all our asses on the curb.” Even you’re beginning to get restless. “Does he always do this?”
“He’s always late, but never…” He’s hushed by his father hobbling into the conference room on a cane. The brothers exchange a glance you could never begin to understand, and Kendall gets to his feet.
“Sit, I’m fine,” Logan rasps. Kendall reluctantly obeys. “Don’t mind me, folks. I had an… accident on the way.”
Roman throws you a look that says what the fuck? and drags a hand over his jaw.
Thankfully, that’s all that Kendall needs. “You’re late.”
Logan scoffs. “What’re you going to do, fire me?”
Kendall swallows. “Just extending you the same courtesy that you would me.”
Frank clears his throat, and Kendall steels himself.
“I’m calling a vote of no confidence,” he blurts.
“Are you?”
“I am.”
Father and son stare at each other from different ends of the table. “You’re not.”
“That’s, uh, not how this works,” Kendall continues. “We vote in private. Then the verdict speaks for itself.”
“I’m not leaving this room,” Logan insists. “And I know how fucking corporate politics work.” His gaze sears over everyone gathered. “Did we know about this?”
He does another sweep of the room before his eyes land on you. You give a minute shake of your head.
Suddenly, he slams his hands on the table. “Fucking go on, then. Who wants me gone?”
The room is silent. You can feel your stomach churning. Roman sits tense next to you, barely moving- barely breathing.
“Let’s, uh, put it to a vote, then.” Kendall shakily gets to his feet. “All those in favor of ejecting Logan Roy from position as CEO of Waystar?” He’s the first to raise his hand, and you raise yours not long after. Three partners follow your lead. You turn to Roman.
His hands are tucked firmly under his arms. He stares blankly at the ground, seemingly dazed. You can see the emotions warring in his eyes. But you have no sympathy.
You begin to bristle, and Kendall lets out a strangled breath.
“A tie,” Kendall says deflatedly.
“I have two votes,” Logan practically shouts. “I’m going to ruin you,” he spits at Kendall. You give Roman a nasty look then push yourself to your feet.
“It’s not a tie. Nor did you win,” you begin, raising your voice as you go. “You are the subject of this vote. You are legally not allowed in this room, Mr. Roy. Any vote you cast is regarded as null and void. As your lawyer, I advise you to take your things and leave.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “I did not get a degree from Harvard Law for you to so blatantly disrespect it to my face. Your time here is over. Get out before I call the police and have them escort you.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he murmurs lowly.
“Really? Perhaps I will when we go to trial. You have quite a few hefty criminal charges hanging above your head, Mr. Roy. I’d hate to see them fall.”
#succession#roman roy slowburn#roman roy x you#roman roy x reader#roman roy#succession fic#succession x reader#wambsgansshoelaces#turmoil#succession hbo#succession slowburn
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Turmoil; Chapter 5
Roman Roy x Reader
a/n: many apologies this time round, both for the last post and the fact that it’s so short. it also just doesn’t hit. I feel like I’ve been missing these last few chapters , and I really do apologize and hope you enjoy anyway :,)
Word Count: 2.021k
Norway is beautiful. The natural landscape, rolling and luscious, stretches on farther than you can crane your neck out of the window to see. Kendall and Roman are still passed out, so you and Shiv continue your comfortable conversation.
Willa and Connor have isolated themselves from the group, the two sitting in a far of corner. You and Shiv exchange a look at Connor’s dramatic whispering, and elect to ignore him. You’ve been tending to do that a lot.
When you breathe in the cool Norwegian air, you feel refreshed. “Soak it up while it lasts,” Shiv mutters to you.
“Don’t even.”
It had taken Roman throttling Kendall for him to wake up, and even standing on the runway, he seems asleep. He dozes off immediately in the car.
Watching the greenery pass, you actually feel a little excited. You pull up to the accommodation, and you can’t peel your attention from it. It’s borderline a mansion, you think to yourself.
You and Roman settle into your room in the same hall as everyone else. He belly flops into the massive, plush bed. “We should put one of these on our registry.”
“Where’re we going to put that, pray tell?”
“I don’t care if there isn’t space. It feels like I’m lying in a cinnamon roll.”
You crawl onto the bed and sit next to him. He looks up at you and smiles. “We should go out to dinner tomorrow. You and I.”
“I’d like that.” You’re both just grinning at each other. “I’m going out with Shiv and Willa in a bit,” you tell him.
“I’ll be obediently in bed the entire time you’re gone.”
“Okay, don’t say it like that-”
He laughs. “I’m too tired to go anywhere. If I wasn’t, I’d do something with Kendall, who’s currently passed out on the floor of his room.”
Shiv shouts your name from the hall. You give Roman an affectionate back rub and a quiet ‘goodbye’ before grabbing your purse and joining her.
She and Willa are stood waiting for you. You can tell it’s awkward between them. You’d expect it to be, really.
“Y/N, do you have a dress for the engagement party?” Willa asks, attempting to break the silence.
“I don’t, actually. It’s horrible planning on my part, but I couldn’t find anything white before we left.” It had completely slipped your mind with the chaos that had entered your life.
“You should help me pick an outfit, and I’ll help you,” Shiv says, ignoring Willa. You don’t know what’s happened between them, and you’re almost 100% sure it had something to do with Connor. “I brought a few dresses and pantsuits, but nothing feels right. None of it fits your vibe.”
The three of you find yourselves in a quiet strip mall. You and Shiv chat idly, and she makes you try on everything in half the stores until the moment you step out in a white silk slip dress that makes her gasp.
“You’re gorgeous! The dress, Y/N, and your body!”
Despite yourself, you grin giddily. “You think so?” You give a little twirl, and even Willa cracks a smile.
“It looks great on you,” she says softly.
“You go try some things on, too,” you urge. “And you, Shiv. Only rule is no white, for my ego.”
While Shiv’s in the dressing room, you and Willa stand patiently. Your eyes flit over her, before doing a double take on her wrist.
“I like your bracelet,” you say carefully.
She stretches out her arm to give you a better view. Solid jade. “Handmade. I got it on a getaway in Myanmar for a fat stack of cash.”
It takes all your will to keep yourself from screaming. “Good thing it didn’t get stolen.”
You’re now jittering to get back. Siobhan comes out in an emerald green pantsuit, and you do your ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’, tell her she looks gorgeous(because she does), and leave.
You’re unable to contain yourself back at the accommodation. You slam the door shut, startling Roman awake.
“What’s got you in a mood?” he asks, rolling over to face you as you dig around for your laptop in one of your bags.
“Fucking Connor.”
“I hope you mean Connor’s got you mad. Not that you’re fucking him.”
You open the file you have under Connor’s name and pull up the various photos he’d sent of his stolen items. “That asshole,” you hiss, clicking open the picture of the same jade bracelet you’d found on Willa’s wrist. “He’s lying. He’s lying about the lawsuit.”
“How do you know?”
“One of the things he submitted as stolen. Willa literally has it.”
“Don’t you think you might be jumping to conclusions?”
“I know I’m not.”
“How?” he asks again.
You pause. “You’re going to help me prove it.”
Roman pushes himself up onto his elbows and tosses you a look. “I am?”
“Your brother is committing fraud. Again. If we find out your father is somehow involved…”
“Y/N…”
“Just do one little investigation. For me, please.”
He clambers over to where you sat yourself on the floor and peers at the screen. “What am I looking for?”
“I’m hoping three bits of ‘stolen goods’ will be enough. What do you think you could easily have access to? From these?” You scroll through the photos.
“A watch, definitely. Are those cuff links?” he asks, laughing. You swat his chest playfully. “Focusing, focusing.” He goes back through the photos one by one. “Can I send these to myself?”
You let him, and you want to scream. You don’t know if Connor is genuinely trying to fuck with you or if he’s that desperate for money. It has to be the former- he’s Connor Roy. “If you don’t mind,” he says, breaking the silence, “I’m going back to sleep. Care to join?”
You change, brush your teeth, and end up asleep with Roman draped across you like a lazy cat. You sleep deeply- Roman is right. The mattress is soft and plush, and your sleep feels heavenly. You wake up, Roman’s head sitting on your stomach. His snores reverberate softly into your skin. Bleary, you drop your head back into your pillow and try to go back to sleep, your fingers wound through his hair. Eventually, Roman shifts, instead tucking his head into the crook of your neck and wrapping is arms around your waist.
You smile to yourself, dragging your fingertips over his back. “Good morning,” he murmurs. “Don’t stop that.”
You continue gently scratching at his back, feeling strangely domestic. You could get behind this, if it’s what your future entailed. “You’re a blanket hog,” you whisper.
“Mm, not my problem,” he whispers back into your shoulder.
“Roman,” you whine.
“Am I not warm enough?”
“Not when I wake up to pee and your feet are in my face.”
“Sleeping head to toe is good for… something, probably.”
“You don’t deserve anything I’m doing for you right now.”
“I’m taking you out to dinner, tonight. I’m getting there.”
“Get there quicker.”
“Fuck off.”
You spend a long while tangled together. He clings to you, and for once, you don’t mind it. “Hey, I have to go soon,” he tells you a half hour later. “Some guy thing with my brothers.”
Because of jet lag, you’ve both lounged around until two in the afternoon. You’d fix your sleeping schedule later. “Back by six?”
”Back at six, I promise,” he agrees. “Get all dolled up for me, okay?”
You snort, but agree. Roman leaves you with the promise that he’d be back soon, and you drag yourself out of bed twenty minutes later to go eat. You didn’t know if it counted as breakfast or lunch. You didn’t care, really.
In the massive dining room, you find Shiv sitting in her pajamas with a mug of coffee in her hands. You serve yourself from the laid out spread of half breakfast half lunch foods and go to join her. “Hey, you.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” you start. “Have you ever head Connor on the phone discussing the lawsuit?”
She nabs a bit of melon from your plate. “Yeah, why?”
“We’ve never discussed it on the phone,” is all you say back. She chews slowly. “And the bracelet Willa was wearing yesterday…”
She catches on. “Really? Is he fucking with you, or is he really that dumb?”
“That’s what I said,” you mutter back. “I was wondering, though… should I just go through with the suit as normal, or… or should we bait your dad with this? See if he’ll cover it up?”
She toys with the hem of her shirt. “If we did do that second one,” she says, matching your volume, “we’d have to make sure we have everything in place to keep track of my dad.”
“Can you figure that out? You and Greg?”
“We should be able to.”
You’re both forced to switch subjects when Willa strolls in to get herself food. “I hear we’re going to have a dinner by the beach a few days before the party.”
”It’s going to be on this great patio. Booked it myself.” She raises her eyebrows at you, taking another sip of her coffee.
“You think… he’ll be here by then?”
“If I know my father, he’ll crash the party by helicopter.”
You spend a bit more time in each other’s company before Shiv excuses herself to go do some work. You stay and begin to finish the rest of your meal, Willa going to take the seat Shiv previously occupied. “I’m popular today,” you say jokingly in between bites.
“I wanted to thank you, for yesterday,” she says. You’d bought both her and Shiv clothing for your engagement party. You really hadn’t minded- you enjoyed footing the bill. You certainly had the means. It makes you happy making other people happy.
“Of course. It’s the least I can do for dragging everybody into this mess.”
She folds her hands together and sets them in her lap. “The family hasn’t exactly been welcoming. You’re a nice breath of fresh air. I know I seem shallow, and closed off, and all that junk. I’m sorry, I’m rambling. What I’m saying is, I think we can be friends. If it’s something you think can happen.”
You smile. “Of course. We’re already friends, aren’t we?”
You spend the next hour doing nothing, lounging on one of the sofas in one of the living rooms in this massive place. You keep track of the time, getting up early to get yourself ready for dinner. Sure, you’d just eaten, but you’d made sure to keep it light just so you could go out.
You take your time on your appearance, smoothing out the wrinkles in your clothing and fixing your hair meticulously. Initially, you think you’re going to be late, but to your relief, by six Roman hasn’t called or texted. Whatever divine entity must’ve seen your struggle and gotten him stuck in traffic.
Ten minutes turns into twenty.
Maybe the traffic really is bad, you tell yourself. You send him a text, asking him if he’s on his way.
No response.
You sit primly on the edge of an armchair, toeing the carpet with your shoe. You have hope. He promised.
You give up another two hours later.
Embarrassed, you cleanse off your makeup, peel of your clothes. You vaguely consider locking him out of the room, but you decide you’re above that. You’re disappointed. In Roman, in yourself. You don’t know why you began to expect more. You thought he’d step up, yet here you were. You go to sleep facing the wall.
You don’t want him to wake you up.You want to be left alone to sleep your anger off, to forget any of this ever happened. Was this an overreaction? You didn’t care. He’d promised, and broken it. He said he’d be better, and you could argue this was worse.
In the end, you come to the conclusion that you were better off in your own little world, far removed from anyone and everyone.
You’re tired of the disappointment.
#succession#succession fic#succession hbo#roman roy#succession x reader#roman roy x reader#roman roy x you#wambsgansshoelaces#turmoil#roman roy slowburn#roman roy fic
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Turmoil; Chapter 2
Roman Roy x Reader
slowburn romantic drama
a/n: I’m so glad you guys love this as much as I do!! kisses, enjoy x
Word Count: 2.313k
The Waystar building is daunting. It makes you queasy- not because of the architecture, but because of the people in it. You’re in Kendall’s office, his blinds drawn shut. You’ve been pacing for so long you think you’re going to wear a hole in the floor. Roman lounges on an armchair, his legs hanging over one of the armrests.
“You need to tell me everything you know about your father’s criminal history. It’s the only way out. Throw him in jail before he can do it to me. And then he’s rendered unfit to run Waystar and it goes to Kendall.”
Roman is playing with a tennis ball, tossing and catching it methodically. “He took Kendall out the will and replaced him with Marcia.”
Kendall sinks in his chair. “You could’ve told me that earlier.”
“Anyway, we all know my dad’s 100% a criminal. He just has so much money there’s practically no witnesses nor any evidence,” Roman continues. “We have to catch him with his pants down.”
“But in the act of what? We can’t just watch him 24/7/365. It’s not feasible,” you reply.
“Okay, do you have any better ideas?”
“We bait him. Is it unethical? Probably. But I think we’re all past that.”
Kendall gets up and goes to stare out the window overlooking the city. “You think maybe he’s laundered money?”
“What do you think he had to clean the money from?”
“Prostitutes,” Roman says confidently.
“That’s not illegal, genius.”
“Where’s your imagination, Y/N?”
You continue your pacing. “Let’s go down the list. Tax evasion? He wouldn’t go to jail for that.”
“Even if he did, he’d be evading an entire $2 in taxes. The bracket distribution is fucked,” Roman points out. “He covered up Connor’s property fraud. Shouldn’t that be enough?”
“It would be if we had concrete proof. Connor’s never going to testify and tell the truth, and I doubt we can find whoever he paid to forge the deed.”
Kendall shrugs. “I’ll try anyway.”
“We could try to get a confession,” you say. “But if he had a crazy enough attorney, it might not hold up in court.”
Roman rolls onto his side, staring at you. There’s no way that can be comfortable. “Why not?”
“It’s the twenty first century, Roman. He can claim that it was AI generated using his voice from speeches posted online. The only way it’d work is if he confessed on the stand.”
He throws you a dirty look. “Quit shitting on my ideas.”
“It wasn’t your idea. Plus, I’m just doing what any attorney with a brain would do,” you retort. “Your dad clearly has the money. He’ll probably find someone who’s thirty times the lawyer I am.”
“You’ll be fine,” Kendall assures you.
A knock on the office door interrupts your erratic pacing. Kendall opens it, allowing Siobhan to storm in. “He knows,” is all she says.
“Good afternoon,” Roman drawls in response.
“Congrats on your engagement party,” she snaps back.
“Party?” you ask.
“Your father in law is throwing you an engagement party in Norway.” She gives your arm a squeeze. “And I have to go.”
“Aww, I love you too, Siobhan,” you say sarcastically.
“It’s nothing against you. And call me Shiv. We’re friends.” She throws herself onto the couch. “I’m supposed to meet with a bunch of people here so that they can start digging. But not if I’m in Norway.”
“I can-”
“Your attendance is required as well, Kendall.”
“…Is Greg’s?” he asks. Shiv’s face splits into a small smile.
“I think he’ll forget about Greg. But none of us can ask him.” She turns to you. “Y/N?”
“I don’t even know who Greg is.”
“He works here. You can’t miss him, he looks like an egg,” Roman supplies.
Shiv nods. “He’ll have people start digging while we’re abroad, we get a head start without him being able to cover anything up.”
“We still haven’t figured out what to do about Marcia’s being the heir,” Roman says, going back to sitting lopsidedly on the chair and tossing his tennis ball.
“Vote of no confidence, I guess. Who’re the board members?” you ask.
“Me, Roman, Gerri, Frank, Karl, my dad, and five other partners. And you, now, I think.” Kendall sits back down, then gets back up, only to sit back down again.
“Do you think we can swing the votes our way?”
“How?” Kendall drops his face into his hands.
“He needs to do something dumb in public,” Roman says. “I dunno, like be racist.”
“Is he…?” You look incredulously at Roman.
“Probably.”
”We can’t bank on him probably being racist. Members of the board, vote him out, he maybe hates foreigners.” You sigh. “I need a break. I’m going to go get sweets or something.”
“Bring me back a cheesecake and I’ll kiss you,” Shiv replies.
“Back off, Shiv. That’s my fiancé,” Roman says sarcastically.
“Kendall?” You ignore Roman, still lounging on the armchair.
“Um, a cupcake? Chocolate?”
“I’ll be quick.” You make your way through the office bullpen before Roman catches up to you.
“Hey, wait. You didn’t ask what I wanted,” he says, walking backwards in front of you.
“Good job, you noticed!” you say bitterly. He rolls his eyes.
“Let me come with you?”
“Will you be quiet?”
“No.”
“Then also no.”
You wait for an elevator with Roman right at your side. “You’re a jerk. We’re supposed to be a team.”
“You’re the one who’s made it clear that there’s no ‘we’ in any situation.”
“What, you want us to be exclusive? Can’t get any more exclusive than engaged, and you that’s what we are, baby.”
☾𖤓
Later that day, you’re in your office at your firm. After you and Roman had gone back to Waystar, you’d gotten a call from your assistant saying that someone was at her desk demanding to see you. You’d weaseled your way to your office and asked her to send whoever it is in.
Connor comes storming in, the girl he was with at the party awkwardly in tow. “We want a lawsuit.”
“Hello, Connor, I’m doing fine, thanks for asking!”
“My girlfriend, Willa, and I are staying at a hotel while our house in the country gets renovated.” Without asking, he sits in one of the chairs in front of your desk. Willa stands silently behind him. “I took took our valuables from home and gave them to the staff, who said they’d hold them in the hotel vault and keep them safe. We went back last night and, lo and behold, everything’s been stolen.”
You stare at him blankly. “You’re wasting my time, Connor.”
“I’m being serious,” he exclaims dramatically. “Her diamonds and gold were taken, along with my best watches.”
You sigh. “I’ll have one of my associates take this. This is an easy suit, Connor.”
“You’re going to do it.”
You get up from your desk. “Why, pray tell, would I do that?”
“Because I have leverage. And I need the best on the case. This has to go through.”
“Excuse my language, but a fucking toddler could win this. It’s negligence- innkeeper’s law. They put your stuff in their vault, it got stolen, they’re liable. Case closed.”
You try leaving, but Connor’s immediately up and blocking your way. “No. You’re doing it, or I tell the papers.”
You scoff. “Fucking fine. Do you have pictures of everything that was stolen?” Connor smiles, satisfied with himself. “Images from the companies you bought the junk from is fine. Have it on my desk with your hotel reservations by tomorrow. I’m not going to spend too much time on this.”
He blocks your way again. “Thank you.”
“Bye,” you say, gesturing your office door. After Connor leaves, Willa shuffling behind him, Roman takes his place, collapsing into a chair. “When’d you get here?”
“Like ten minutes ago. Connor was stomping around like a toddler. What’d he want?”
“A bunch of stuff got stolen while he’s staying at the hotel. He wants to file a lawsuit through me.”
“He’s trying to waste your time,” Roman says matter-of-factly. “He knows the four of us are gunning for Dad, and by proxy, him, because Dad is the one protecting his ass.”
“What does Connor own that would be damaged by Logan leaving?”
“He’s a shareholder. If you oust Dad, he probably goes too, just to save face.” He kicks his feet up onto your desk. “And he’s just annoying like that. You know he pays that girl to be with him?”
You wince. You don’t want to think about that. “Why are you here?”
“I can’t come visit my fiancé?”
“No.”
“Too bad. Waystar’s hosting a charity dinner tonight. Or, technically, we are.”
“We?”
“Our first public apparence together. Isn’t it romantic?”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. You don’t have the mental capacity for this. “Okay. Do you know what you’re wearing?”
“Same thing I always wear. Dress pants and slacks.” He gets to his feet. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, anyway. It’s just a bunch of corporate wannabes kissing my ass so that they can move up in the company.”
“Because your ego needs it.”
You manage to go home and change before Roman picks you up. Rather, the driver does. Both of you sit wordlessly in the back, until he tells you, “You look nice all dolled up.”
“I don’t look nice usually?”
“That’s not what I- never mind.”
Feeling bad, you glance at him. “You look nice, too.”
When you pull up at the venue, Roman scoots until he’s pressed up against the door and takes your hand, pulling you against him before opening the door and stepping out with you behind him.
The paparazzi is as aggressive as always, and you know you’re getting sick of it. When you’re both safely inside, he lets go of your hand. “I’m gonna go drink an excessive amount and pass out behind a curtain.”
You watch him wind into the crowd. You hope he’s joking.
Roman was right, earlier. This wasn’t the sort of charity dinner where people actually donate to charity- this was purely social.
You find Shiv by herself in a corner and join her. “I fucking hate these,” she tells you. “They could at least pretend to be here for a noble cause.”
You two spend the half hour before dinner chatting among yourselves in the corner. You thankfully veer away from talking about work and the clusterfuck that you’ve gotten yourselves into and instead idly discuss anyone and everyone you both see.
When you’re called to be seated for dinner, you peer at the the seating chart indicating that Shiv’s on your left with Roman on your right. You and Shiv take your seats, Roman nowhere to be seen. 10, 20 minutes pass.
“This is normal for him,” she tells you, in between bites. “He’s probably blackout drunk somewhere.”
“In public?”
She nods.
Once dinner is over, the crowd goes back to mingling. Shiv has to step away to talk to some client of hers, and while she’s gone, someone taps on your shoulder.
“You’re a pretty face I haven’t seen before.” It’s an old man. A very old man.
You try to just ignore him, making your way to the refreshment table and plucking a chocolate from a tray. He follows you anyway.
“What’s your name? What do you do at Waystar?”
You give him a dirty look and continue your inspection of the refreshments.
“You’re a feisty one, then?” He laughs, and it makes your skin crawl. “I like a challenge.”
You give him another look and round the table. “I have much better wine at my place. Much better than the garbage they serve here. Much.”
He follows you despite your pretending like he doesn’t exist. “I can tell you’d be a good time.”
Before you can do something rash, a warm hand goes to sit on your hip, grounding you. You smell his cologne before you realize it’s him.
“Figures you don’t know how to take no for an answer with all the whining you do to me for a promotion.” Roman pulls you flush against him. “Are you trying to fuck my girl?” Before the man can say anything, Roman interrupts. “The answer is no. And there’s also no showing your face here, or at Waystar, ever again. I’ve been looking for a reason to fire you. You were never an asset.”
He scuttles off, and Roman slumps against you, arm still hooked around your waist. “Are you drunk?” you ask him.
“Very,” he responds.
“I think it’s past your bedtime,” you tell him. “Can we go home?”
Arrangements had been made for you and Roman to start living together in a cozy apartment secluded from the rest of the city. You weren’t mad about it, really. You just hope Roman isn’t a slob.
“Tell what’s-his-face to pull the car up. I’m going to puke in my shoes.”
When you’ve sat down, Roman sets his head in your lap and stretches out along the back seat.
“How much did you have to drink?” you ask stiffly.
“Lots and lots.” He presses his face into your stomach. “Before we left, I had a lovely conversation with my dad. Told me how much of a fuck up I was, how you’re the only right decision I’ve ever made. And it’s not even true. I didn’t want this.”
You give his shoulder an awkward rub. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re involved in this. I should’ve known, way back then.”
“The worst part is, Y/N, as much as I try to hate you and blame you for this shit show, I can’t. You’re innocent. You’re a damn good lawyer that was just doing her job. And it pisses me off that you’re so fucking pretty, because I can’t have you, but I want you so bad.”
#roman roy x reader#succession#succession hbo#succession fic#succession x reader#roman roy x you#roman roy slowburn#romantic drama#slowburn x reader#wambsgansshoelaces#turmoil
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Turmoil; Chapter 6
a/n: *pukes cutely on floor*
sorry guys I’ve literally been dead
I’ll make it up to you with an extra long chapter next time; I’m sorry for the disappointment that this one is :,)
Word Count: 2.163k
To your dismay, you’re nudged awake in the wee hours of the morning.
“What?” you grit out. You know it’s him without having to look.
“I’m sorry.”
“Fuck off, Roman.”
“Let me explain,” he urges.
“I don’t want to hear it. You promised, you didn’t show, it’s whatever.”
“It’s clearly not whatever, Y/N.”
You roll over so you can glare at him. “I don’t get it, Roman. There’s no need to butter me up and pretend like you like me. I have to help you.”
“What are you even talking about? I do like you.”
“You don’t really act like it anymore.”
”We got caught up in something. I didn’t want to leave you waiting like that. It’s the last thing I wanted, really.”
“And what happened to you that took so fucking long?”
“I can’t say.”
”Yeah. Exactly. Good night, Roman.” You roll back over, keeping your back to him.
There’s a strained moment of silence.
“It was Dad.” His voice comes out barely a whisper. “He landed, and Marcia called me. Said he’d been hospitalized the minute they touched down.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I… he said not to tell you. Or my siblings, or anyone. He says that if the press catches on that he’s incapacitated, along with him being removed as CEO, he’s done. You can’t tell anyone, Y/N. You can’t.”
“He trusts you, all of a sudden?”
“I’m the one who didn’t try voting him out.”
You take a moment. Roman not participating in the vote just opened several new doors for you.
You feel bad for acting up. “You should’ve started with that,” you mutter. “I feel like a dick now.”
“I mean, you have the right to. I didn’t text, or call. It’s my fault. I should’ve told him to fuck off and gone straight to you.”
“What’s wrong…?”
“Osteoarthritis in his knees. It’s progressing so fast he can’t bring himself to walk.” He rubs a hand over his eyes.
“Roman, I feel horrible. It’s your dad. You shouldn’t have even been thinking of me.”
“That’s what I told myself, yet here we are.” He lies down next to you. “I was standing there, talking to Marcia, and all I could think of was how I was blowing you off.”
“Ignore what I said earlier. That doesn’t matter.” You shift to face him. “But you should’ve called. Told me, you weren’t coming, at least.”
“Yeah. I should’ve.”
You find it strange that he’s never made a move to kiss you. You want to bring it up, you want to be mad at him about it, but you feel like that’s a conversation for another time.
“I’m sorry, Y/N, really.”
You both sit there in silence for a moment. “Will you make it up to me?”
”How do you want me to do that?”
“I want you to figure it out.”
You end up dozing off on your side, this time facing Roman.
The next few days, the strain between you and him slowly dissipates. He brings you breakfast every morning, making sure you never have to lift a finger. You and Kendall lounge around one of those days, telling work nightmare stories. While he’s the most reserved of the four, you two get along well. You’re both comfortable around the other, and despite his warning the day you met him, you trust him.
Speaking of trust, Greg finally made it. Roman eyes him as he pulls you aside one afternoon while everyone congregates after lunch.
“Enjoying Norway?” you ask, stifling a laugh.
“It’s beautiful. I think I’ll have a great time here.” He throws a cautionary glance over at Roman. “Um, you’ll make sure he doesn’t kill me, right?”
You actually laugh this time. “You’ll be fine, Greg.”
“Anyway.. I’ve had my discussions, and we’re starting to dig. We have a few leads on Logan, and something very promising on Marcia. Thank you for asking me to help. As much as it scares me, I’m having fun.”
“I’m glad you’re at least enjoying yourself. You’re a good person to have on my side, Greg.”
He gives you a small smile. “Oh, and about Connor,” he says suddenly, lowering his voice. “I started making inquiries at a bunch of firms, and, um…” He fiddles with his sweater sleeve. “More than one firm responded when I asked about the progress of ‘Mr. Connor Roy’s lawsuit’.”
Your stomach twists. Along with the jade bracelet, the pieces are starting to come together. “Hey, I hate to keep asking you of things…”
Greg shakes his head. “No, no, go ahead.”
“Is there any chance you have the ability to look into Connor’s finances? Say, last five years?”
“Might take a bit, but that sounds doable.”
“You’re a lifesaver, Greg.” You give his arm a squeeze before rejoining the rest of the family. Everyone’s chatting among themselves, save for Roman, who beckons you over to sit with him on a settee. “Jealous again?”
He makes a face. “Absolutely not.” You know he’s lying.
“You should be. Greg’s great.”
“Moving swiftly on.” He stretches out his arms, looping one around you after you sit. “Like my watch?”
You glance sideways at it, the watch sitting on the wrist he has draped over your shoulder. “Is that…?”
“Yes, ma’am. Connor said I can borrow it.”
“He let you borrow something?”
“That’s our problem here?”
“The worst one, yeah.” You get to your feet, peeling his arm from you. “That and you haven’t done nearly enough groveling to be all touchy feely with me.”
“Y/N,” he whines, catching the hem of your shirt before you can go. “Come on.”
“You have to work for it, Roman,” you chide. “Besides, I have to get ready for Shiv’s dinner.”
“We have to get ready.” He gets up after you as the others make their way upstairs. “We should match,” he mutters to you as he rummages through his suitcases.
You drape a pale mauve dress over your arm, watching him hunt for a dress shirt. “Wear purple, then. You have dark purple somewhere in there.”
You head into the bathroom and change. You try reaching around to lace yourself up, but you can’t quite do it right. “Roman?”
A disgruntled “Huh?” sounds from the bedroom.
“Come help.”
He appears with the dark purple shirt you were talking about tossed over his shoulder, and you quickly register the fact that he’s shirtless. Not that you mind, anyway.
You gesture at the lace up back to your dress.
“Why are these things so complicated?” he mutters, tightening the corset top of your dress. He experiments around with the strings, trying to figure something out. His fingers brush over the bare skin of your back as he ties you into the dress. He manages to finish his handiwork with a cute bow. The dress sits prettily on your body, flattering you and accentuating everything that needs to be accentuated. He sets his hands on your hips and his head on your shoulder, staring at you in the mirror. “Fucking hot.”
“Think about that next time you try to blow me off,” you say lightly. He scoffs and rolls his eyes.
“Let it go,” he complains.
“Only when I feel like it.”
He presses a barely-there kiss to your shoulder. “Is this progress?”
“Maybe.” You smile at him in the mirror.
“Asshat.” He pulls away, smiling back, and shrugs on the dress shirt. “Oh, darn, I forgot how buttons work. I so desperately need your help.” You huff halfheartedly, pulling him close by his collar. You start systematically buttoning up his shirt, making sure to keep it smoothed out as you go.
The fabric clings to him, his carved abdomen. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t admiring him.
“Like it?” he asks, catching your gaze and grinning stupidly. Your palms glide over his abs.
“You’re decent,” you say, a smile playing at your lips.
“Just decent?” He groans. “Work with me at least. You’re so difficult.”
“Are you going to put in the work, or not?” You’ve both drifted out into the hall, pulling on coats.
“I will,” he says, quieting as Connor and Willa join you in the hall. Greg’s already here, scrolling through his phone, leaning against the wall. You give Willa a friendly wave, and she returns it with a smile. “Con, it’s fucking dinner. You don’t need cuff links ,” Roman says, gently pinching the small of your back. Your eyes flit to Connor’s sleeves. The exact same ones he’d claimed had been stolen.
“It’s important to be elegantly dressed and well presented at all times,” he says hotly. You and Roman exchange a look before Shiv and Kendall finally appear. They’re quietly bickering over something and walk past the lot of you.
You have to applaud Shiv for being able to find this patio. Under the stars, on the beach- you can’t think of anything more beautiful. The air is cool and crisp, and you’re at peace just breathing it in, staring up at the strung fairy lights. Roman idles beside you, watching you more than the scenery.
“Something on my face?”
“No. I just like looking at you.” He elbows you lightly in the side.
“You’re awfully eager.”
“I thought you wanted that.”
“I do.” You fall easily back into your usual banter. You feel bad that you’re still harping on his ghosting you, but for some reason you can’t completely let it go.
Everyone seems to be getting along. Connor hasn’t said anything aggravating, and Roman was in a calm headspace, behaving himself. You, Shiv, and Willa find yourself giggling over yourselves as the night goes on. The food is good, the company is even better, and for a moment you don’t even realize Logan had arrived hunched over a walker.
Silence blankets the patio. Roman sidles up to you, subtly lacing his fingers with yours and gripping hard.
“Dad,” Kendall says stiffly. Logan ignores him, sitting down as soon as he can. You and Shiv exchange a look. “Not feeling well?” Kendall asks carefully.
“Peachy,” Logan rasps.
“Clearly not,” Shiv retorts, her voice ringing. “How nice of you to join us the day before the party.”
He waves her off, then looks to Marcia as she brings him a plate of food. Roman gives the fabric of your dress a tug and uses his head to gesture to the beach. He nudges Shiv, gives her the same look, and drags Kendall with him as he steps off the patio and onto the sand. You and Shiv follow after kicking off your heels.
The sand is cool, and it feels nice on your feet. The four of you walk a little ways away from the patio before Roman turns and says confidently, “Connor’s piss poor.”
“Like, he has no money,” Shiv clarifies. “We went to get coffee one day and his express card declined.”
“Well, that’s not how I know that. But yikes.” Roman hooks his thumbs through his belt loops. “He told me something about blowing all of his money, then we realized he’s filing like seven lawsuits at once…”
“What could he be spending so much money on that he blew his entire inheritance?” Kendall asks. You’d caught him up on your findings on his brother, asking him to keep an eye on him a few days before.
“I asked Greg to look into that. I’m not sure if it’s really going to help, though.”
Roman shrugs. “It’s blackmail.”
“We shouldn’t bleed our hand,” Shiv says. “Y/N was right to propose we leave Connor be and bait dad with it. If he covered real property fraud, I don’t doubt he’ll do the same here.” She glances over her shoulder, catching her father’s gaze. “We should probably go back,” she mutters to Kendall. He gives you an awkward clap on the back before following Shiv back onto the patio.
“I have no idea why he’s out of the hospital,” Roman supplies as soon as his siblings are out of earshot. “He’s up to something.”
“He’s probably just saving face, Rome. Calm down.”
“He didn’t have to come to this dinner. He just had to show up to the engagement party for it to seem normal.” You cross your arms over yourself, shielding yourself from the sudden gust of wind. “And we said we wouldn’t think about this here.”
“Get out of your head, Roman.”
He sighs, shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around you. “Let’s just go back.”
You step onto the patio barefooted. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Hell, you want to- it’s so damn suffocating. Logan, surprisingly, has his gaze centered on Connor. At least it’s not you. You pull Roman’s jacket tighter around you, watching Connor shuffle uncomfortably while talking to Willa.
“Connor.” Logan’s voice has a haggard quality to it. It wheezes, rasps. “You know you can always come to me for help, right?”
“Yeah. I know, Dad. Right.”
#succession#succession fic#succession hbo#roman roy#succession x reader#wambsgansshoelaces#turmoil#roman roy x you#roman roy fic#roman roy x reader#romantic drama#roman roy slowburn
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