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#stewy hosseini imagine
chaithetics · 11 months
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Can you please do something like youngest Roy is secretly dating Stewy and he sees Lucas Mattson hitting on her. And he gets jealous and wants to go public with their relationship thank you!!!!
Jealous Disclosures
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Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) Reader
Word count: 4.6K
Author's note: Thank you so much for this request Nonnie! I'm sorry for the delay in getting it out to you! It's been busy and I take a bit longer with jealousy/find it harder to write. I really hope you enjoy this, please do let me know! Also, this is obviously not proofread lol. I hope you all enjoy it and would love feedback :)
Chapter/content warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, established/secret relationship, some smut, jealous Stewy, icky Lukas Matsson, and douchey, douchey Roman! (Sorry about that).
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It was Kendall’s 40th birthday party. You knew that this event was going to be something else, Kendall Roy always went above and beyond for a party, especially when he was in these kinds of states. Your more timid nature in comparison to your siblings' abrasive one meant that you naturally weren’t the biggest fan of big events but you could and would be able to suck that up for a night for your older brother. 
You and Connor were the only ones of your siblings to have been officially invited. It was especially tense amongst Roy siblings at the moment, which was saying a lot because frankly, when wasn’t it? Fortunately not being involved at Waystar meant that you didn’t have to bite the bullet and deal with the tension like the middle three Roy children did. But you certainly still felt its effects. 
You were in a corner chatting away with Rava, you’d gladly clutched to her company as soon as she had arrived despite the fact that she initially wasn’t intending to stay for long. She was the nicest and most genuine of any of the partners that the Roys had ever brought back to the family. Well other than Willa you quickly thought, you liked Willa and had from the get-go, she was down to earth and easy to get along with. She also made an impressively good balance to the often well-intending but very chaotic nature of your eldest sibling. 
“Wow wee, Little Bo Peep!” A voice blurted, grabbing your attention and forcing you to turn. You found that Roman had awkwardly jumped onto the seat next to you with a poor landing that he brushed off as he completely ignored Rava, solely focusing his attention on you. 
“Wait what? Is that a nickname? What kind of nickname is that? And  Rava was talking-” 
“The kind that losers like you get.” He instantly quipped back. 
“How charming.” You sighed as you took a sip of your drink. 
“You didn’t bring a date?” Roman questioned. 
“Rava and I were having a conversation, Ro.” Roman just looked at you blankly. “Remember Rava? Kendall’s wife for over a decade, the mother of your niece and neph-” 
“Hey Rava,” Roman says turning to face her for a brief second before turning his attention back to you, Rava just scoffs, already exposed and more than used to these antics. “So, did you bring a date?” 
“No, did you?” 
“Not tonight didn’t really feel like it.” He says dryly and then looks back up at you. 
“Fair enough.” You respond. Anxiously waiting. 
There’s bound to be more. There’s always a biting and inappropriate comment seconds away from leaving Roman’s mouth. 
“But so, are you like seeing anyone?” 
“What the fuck Roman?!” You spoke and Rava had an expression of disbelief over the audacity of Roy men but not in shock, she was well acquainted with it. 
“Well, I’m not asking because I’m interested. Because trust me, I’m not.” He says with that proud, troublemaking smirk. 
“Oh, my god.” You sigh, rolling your eyes at him. 
“Perfect! I’ll take that as a no!” Roman practically leapt out of his chair in the most chaotic way possible. He pinched your arm once he was out of his chair as he grabbed your arm to pull you along. 
“Ow!” 
“Come on, I barely touched you. I want you to meet someone.” Roman said as he held your arm in his grip leaving to navigate the crowd. “You have treehouse access right?” 
“I was talking to Rava, Rome!” You said trying to squirm your way out of his grip. 
“She’ll still be there and if not, you can get brunch and get drunk off mimosas and cry over those really mean but rich Roy men.” He teased as he said the last half of that sentence in a mock crying voice. 
“Jesus, Rome!” You sighed. “Who are you introducing me to?” 
“Lukas Matsson.” 
“Wait what?” You halted in your tracks making Roman stop his walk, he turned to face you looking irritated that you’d delayed his plans. You weren’t too familiar with the name but you recognised it, certain that Kendall had mentioned it earlier in the week. 
“Kendall won’t give me fucking  treehouse access!” Roman practically shouted, loud enough to be heard over the party, and then his voice quietened down to a more reasonable volume. “And Matsson’s like a weird, bored giant apparently so I’m introducing you two. I don’t know, maybe money once removed from the family business is new money’s type?” 
“Before we even get into what you just said, did you only come to Kendall’s party because of that guy?” You sighed and asked looking at Roman. He scoffed and looked down for a moment, kicking at nothing.
“It’s in our name isn’t it?” He looked back up, with a smirk on his face.
“Oh my god Rome.” 
“What, come on. You’re my little sister, not my mom so maybe quit that tone, yeah? And maybe Matsson will be a philanthropist and you can get off your moral high horse and you two can fuck it out and I’ll be namedropped in your wedding speeches. Doesn’t sound too shabby for a Roy does it?” Rome quipped, in his cartoony, douche voice, signalling that talking to him was a losing battle. “Just get me in, maintain a conversation for a couple of minutes and I won’t tell everyone about that summer with mom.” 
“You’re such a tool.” You huffed out and started walking towards the treehouse.  
“You adore me.” Roman teased as he held your arm less tightly than before as you made your way over. 
“So, as the adored older brother you are, you’re trying to pimp me out for a business deal?” 
Roman just laughed at that and didn’t answer. But that verbal silence minus the laugh was more than enough of an answer. You entered the treehouse with surprisingly little fuss. You looked around and raised an eye at Roman.
“The Swedish giant over there. Come on, get that award-winning therapist smile out. If you diagnose him with something in five minutes, I might say happy birthday to Ken-doll.” 
“You’re literally the biggest jerk of my brothers right now, you know that right? And I have three, so that kind of says a lot.” You said quietly, as Roman and you made your way over to the tall blonde man that looked bored out of his brains. “Full disclosure, I’m telling Ken about this.” 
“Ugh, you’re such a bitch. Do you really need to be a narc?” Roman said as you both continued to walk over. 
You rolled your eyes at your brother, as you got closer you were able to fully see the tall blond man. Personally, you thought it was almost rude, the way he was sitting and playing some crappy game on his phone, looking the most bored you’d ever seen someone. He was like a child dragged along on errands with their parent but wanting to be anywhere but there. Roman started the conversation with him, he said your name as a means of introduction and the Swede visibly perked up slightly. 
“The youngest Roy finally comes out to play!” Lukas said with the look of an overexcited child. 
“I suppose so.” You pause for a second. “It’s nice to meet you, Lukas.” 
“Romey, I think you should get your sister a drink, she looks thirsty…” 
You shudder at that, he hadn’t given you good vibes and this was uncomfortable, you looked at Roman to beg him not to leave you alone with Matsson but he completely ignored you and went off. 
“So you’re not in the family business essentially at all, right?” Lukas asked as he quirked his brow as he looked you up and down. 
“Nope, my involvement is pretty non-existent.” You paused for a moment watching him. Rome would owe you big time for whatever the fuck this is you thought. You hated it. “But based on my brother’s eagerness over you, I’m assuming that you’re looking at an in?”  
“To the business or the family?” He has a large smirk on his face as if he’s said the wittiest thing ever. Lukas leans forward in his chair watching you intently. 
“I was meaning business but I guess there’s not much separation in family or business matters there.” Lukas raises an eyebrow briefly at that, he’s not surprised at that observation but he is a little taken aback at your air of candour. 
But that’s how you are with everyone. You tell yourself that if Roman didn’t want you to say such things, he wouldn’t have left you alone, he knows you. He was practically asking for it by bringing you into this awkward mess of an interaction. 
“The business potentially, I suppose the family is a bit more complicated…” He teases. 
“Buy into Waystar, you’re in the Roy’s den somewhere.” You respond somewhat cynically and absentmindedly as you look away trying to find Roman or well any familiar face. 
“Well, Miss Roy-” The way he says it makes you shudder and you immediately correct him. 
“Dr. Roy.” His eyebrows raise again, he looks borderline amused and laughs a little. He has the nature of a spoiled child in a tall, 40-something-year-old’s body you think. 
“Dr. Roy. Sorry, you’re not quite what I was expecting.” 
“Why, did you meet my sister first? Then Rome?” You quip back with a dry chuckle. 
It wasn’t the first time and you knew it wouldn’t be the last time that somebody had said something to that effect, often because of what they’d assumed based on either their interactions with your family members or the general reputation of your family. 
“I haven’t met her yet. But no, you’re just different- which I’d heard of course, but still. It’s different seeing different in the flesh you know?” “I guess so.” “Not a bad thing though.”
“Well thanks, I really needed that ego boost.” You sigh. 
He licks his lips and leans even closer, “Did you maybe want to head out? I’d love to pick your delightful brain amongst other things-” 
“How the fuck did Ken get you here Matsson?” Stewy’s voice cuts in, more serious than usual. 
Lukas doesn’t seem to notice and they must be acquainted you think, it doesn’t surprise you though. If Ken knows him, Stewy’s bound to, and regardless of Ken, Stewy magically knows everyone. You look up at Stewy, feeling slightly more relaxed as he stands near your chair. He doesn’t look at you, not even for a second which is unusual for him, even at public events. There’s always some acknowledgement in his eyes at the very bare minimum. 
You knew that Stewy was coming tonight but you didn’t expect to see him so soon. Like every event you both attended, your entrances and exits were perfectly timed. Coordinated flawless, unsuspicious executions. You’d come 3 hours earlier than Stewy to this and you’d leave with at least an hour gap between you both. That had been the plan but you didn’t think it had quite been the 3 hours yet, just over 2 hours you thought. It made more sense optics-wise for you to be here longer and Stewy to just pop through.  
“Oh, Hosseini- what a sight for bored eyes you are man,” Matsson says as Roman appears.
“There, slurp up.” Roman’s eyes hesitantly shift to Stewy as he hands you the mysterious alcoholic drink for your ‘thirst’. 
“I’m not drinking that.” You quickly respond, giving the drink back to Roman and he rolls his eyes, nonchalantly taking a generous sip from the glass as if to prove a point. 
“Shouldn’t you be in a bathroom with Kendall somewhere?” Roman directs at Stewy. 
“No, unfortunately, we’re waiting. They’re all occupied.” His eyes meet Roman’s but before they do he finally makes eye contact with you, his gaze is firm and he doesn’t look impressed. 
The whole energy of this interaction is making you severely uncomfortable. You’d seen and heard of Stewy giving others non-impressed glances and quips but you’d never seen him make eye contact with you before with an expression like that. That paired with Roman and Matsson playing some weird business game of chicken at Kendall’s birthday was not how you wanted to spend the night. You wished you were still talking to Rava or chatting to Willa wherever she and Connor were. Or that you were home. That was the ideal situation here. There’s a tense air between everyone and despite it being earlier than being agreed upon, you’re ready to head off now. You’d already talked to Ken and given him a present, seeing him and showing face for a bit for his sake was the priority of the evening.
“I need to go-” You start to say before you’re cut off. 
“Don’t abandon us, Dr Roy!” Lukas exclaims playfully like a spoilt child. 
“Sorry but I need to hit the powder room, I’m on my period.” You lie in a manner as if you’re just bluntly stating a fact as you stand up. Stewy chuckles softly, it's the softest you’ve seen his eyes look all night, well for all of the duration of your awkward interaction with Matsson. While Stewy sees through the lie and you’re sure that Roman does as well, the false candour, unfortunately, intrigues Lukas more. 
“Regular? Super? Wait, just bring me back your tampon please?” Roman asks looking up at you. 
“I don’t use tampons.” You sigh as you start to walk off. Immediately regretting your genuine candour this time. 
“Right, sorry.” Roman then looks at Lukas and Stewy. “Well you’ve seen my mum’s vagina tonight but here’s a secret about my sister’s, it’s that tight she can’t use tampons.” 
You glare at Roman who looks absolutely chuffed with himself, he starts to giggle like the child he still is inside and you roll your eyes. Stewy looks at you with a very tight lip smile, struggling not to laugh, even with jealousy coursing through his veins. 
“Maybe stop talking about your family’s vaginas Rome?” Stewy raises an eyebrow at Rome. 
“I don’t know how I always forget about your condition, always snapping dicks. Serial pad user this one.” Rome says to you, directing it at Matsson and completely ignoring Stewy. 
“I don’t have vaginismus which is a very real and not a birthday tech/finance bro over drinks discussion, so stop implying that please and go back to your weird networking.” You say as you walk off, not looking back at the trio of the men. 
“Moderna vagina dentata!” Roman calls out after you. 
“She’s like a diplomatic firecracker right?!” Lukas laughs looking at Roman who smirks and shrugs. 
************** 
You finish washing your hands and unlock the door, getting ready to leave. You’ve gone toilet and you know Roman will be busy sucking up to Matsson and you can make a quick, silent, unnoticed exit. You’ve stepped out and are leaving the bathroom but as soon as you do you feel hands immediately pounce on you, it’s a blur at first and you initially flinch but quickly see it’s Stewy. 
“Get in.” He says as he holds your hips firmly, guiding you back into the bathroom. 
Stewy’s hands leave your body for a moment as he locks the door behind him once you’re both in but they quickly return to where they previously were. 
“Somebody might’ve seen-”
“I don’t fucking care.” He says as he presses his lips against your neck, pinning you to the wall. “Everyone can know baby.” You scoff slightly at that. 
“Well, that’s interesting and surprising, considering you wouldn’t look at me two minutes ago.” He stops kissing your neck and sighs, he tilts his head against your shoulder. “What was going on Stewy? We’re always amicable in public…” You gently probe. 
He nods as his head is still pressed against your shoulder, he sighs again and tilts his head. You can feel his breath on your collarbone and his fastidiously trimmed beard brushes against you, it’s a brief little burn. In another moment it would probably feel more ticklish than it does right now, you’d probably giggle at it like you have in the past. 
“What if we weren’t?” Stewy implores. You pause for a moment, deciphering his meaning. 
“And be what…hostile?” You question somewhat incredulously. 
A change in the method of the public side of your relationship now would surely draw more attention, it certainly would raise eyebrows and questions from those closest and it would become ridiculously complicated. Even with you not being involved at Waystar. 
“No, no. Just open. No more running around, hiding, game of fucking cat and mouse. We don’t even need to say anything, we can just do it. It’s so simple.” He’s moved his handsome head so he’s now looking at you with those wide brown orbs. You exhale slightly and move your hands so that they’re now combing through his hair. It’s handsomely styled but you like it when it has less product and his natural curls are freer. 
“What’s prompting this?”
“And that’s relevant?” 
“I’m just surprised, can you please talk to me?” You ask softly, pleading with him as you continue to gently run your hands through his hair. His hand is rubbing a burning circle on your waist. His eyes are wide and there’s something there that you don’t think you’ve seen before, he almost seems manic. 
“I didn’t like that discussion out there baby.” He says, his tone becoming a bit more serious. 
“This might come as a surprise to you honey but I also am not a fan of when Rome talks about Shiv’s and I’s reproductive systems.” You reply, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. 
“No, I-I didn’t like that but I was meaning with Matsson.” 
“Oh, he’s a creep.” You immediately respond. 
“You’re telling me.” He kisses your lips softly but quickly deepens it, his hands firmly grip onto your hips. You lightly tug on his hair as you moan into his mouth. “He was eye-fucking you like his goonie life depended on it.” 
You chuckle at how he describes it but his face is serious, similar to how it was when he came over during that awful interaction. You don’t know why it took you so long to pinpoint it, it’s jealousy. Stewy Hosseini was jealous. 
Stewy Hosseini was jealous of that interaction, even though you’d both immediately agreed Lukas Matsson was a creep. You kiss him softly and move one of your hands to his shoulder. He eagerly returns the kiss back, filled with hunger. 
“Stewy?” You ask quietly. 
“Yes?” 
“Are you jealous…?” 
His brow noticeably furrows at that question, it’s quite a sight. His hair was now tousled and curlier from your tugging and raking through them, his eyes wide with lust and the aforementioned jealousy and his lips kiss-swollen. He was painfully handsome and you wished that you two weren’t in a bathroom at a party. 
“Did you only just put that together baby?” He asks after watching you for a moment, a cocky smirk on his face. You sigh with a small nod and roll your eyes, which just makes his smirk grow even more. “I don’t want anybody to ever look at you like that again and nobody ever gets to touch you but me.”
He immediately presses his face against yours for another passionate and extremely hungry kiss, you open up your mouth for him and he immediately accepts the invitation. It’s a fiery clashing of teeth and lips, you quickly get lost in it, one hand gripping onto his shoulder as the other one tugs on his hair not so gently this time. 
He groans out against your mouth as you tug on his locks. His hand pinches your hip before he moves it down and then pushes up your dress, his hand then dances along your thigh while the other bruisingly pinches your hip. 
You moan out against his lips as his fingers press against your underwear, you can feel him pressing his fingers against you and dancing along the clothed area. You writhe slightly against him at the pressure. 
His lips leave yours and he kisses along your jaw, trailing the kisses down your neck. He sucks and licks softly around your pulse, then as his mouth gets closer to your collarbone he nips you teasingly. You whine out at the sensation as your fingers dig deeper into his hair and he immediately kisses over where he’d bit you. 
As he does this, he pushes your underwear to the side so that his fingers can slip through. Your arousal had already started to quickly build between your legs and now he was able to take advantage of that. You moan out as his fingers now run through your folds without the barrier of your underwear, he slips a finger inside of you as his thumb gingerly traces over your bundle of nerves. He kisses your shoulder as he hears your breathing quickly change. 
“You’re so beautiful like this, you know that right?” Stewy asks. His voice was slightly more gentle. “Nobody else ever gets this.” He says more firmly. 
“Only you Stewy.” You breathe out as calmly as you can manage as he inserts a second finger into you. He continues on with his ministrations as he kisses along your neck, reaching that spot he knows you cannot ever get enough of. 
“That’s my girl.” He chuckles as he leaves your neck to kiss your lips again. You're desperate to feel him, it can’t have been more than 2 minutes since his lips left yours but you need to feel him there again. Especially when he’s having his way like this with you. You need Stewy in every sense of the meaning. 
His kiss to your mouth is firm and hungry, you get lost in the feeling of his plump lips as he continues to overwhelm you and provide the most delectable of sensory overwhelms that you could ever imagine. But it is of course, unfortunately not long enough. The world’s longest kiss wouldn’t be long enough with Stewy though, which you of course know but it never stops you from wanting, needing longer, needing and craving more. 
When he breaks the kiss, Stewy slides down to his knees on the floor of the bathroom. In your right mind, you’d probably be too focused on the unhygienic nature of this environment but you don’t even think of that. You are just desperate for Stewy, aching for him in any and every way in which you can have him. You don’t think anyone has ever felt as desperate for someone as you do for Stewy.  
He expertly but gently spreads your legs out, putting one over his shoulder as he softly kisses along your thighs. The kisses are soft and hot and as you feel his breath against your sensitive thighs, you feel your core clench and every nerve ending of yours tingle in desire and anticipation for him. 
Stewy continues to pump his fingers in and out of you as his kisses get closer to your core, you squirm slightly as he does. He gives a few gentle kisses to your vulva, your arousal is covering his fingers and running down his hands and he licks through your folds. Softly groaning at that as you let out a whimper at the contact, the noise coming from you is so beautiful, melodic to Stewy. 
The noise spurs him on and his tongue gingerly circles around your bundle of nerves, the pressure is so perfect and the build-up from his teasing and the making out just adds to the feeling. Your hands tangle in his dark hair, gripping it for leverage and as a way to communicate just how he makes you feel. He continues to lick and kiss at your clitoris and you know it won’t be long till you reach your peak at this rate. 
Stewy’s fingers continue at their work, getting deeper and reaching that spongy spot that makes you sharply gasp. Stewy smirks against you as he hears that, he hums against your bundle of nerves and the vibrations make you shudder, bringing you so much closer. 
“Oh my god, Stewy!” You moan out as you roughly tug at his hair. 
“Come on, come for me, baby. I want to taste you and feel it all over my face.” He says in between kisses to your bundle of nerves and around it. You nod and he continues to finger you and to give your clitoris attention, it isn’t much longer until you feel your climax coming on. 
“I’m going to- oh baby!” You whimper out, and he continues at the same pace as you shake against him as your peak arrives and you ride it out. He smirks against you as he tastes you. 
After your orgasm, he stays there, looking up at you in awe for a moment, supporting your body as it’s still somewhat weakened from that orgasm. He then stands back up, he pulls your dress back down and smirks.  Stewy holds your hip gently and his free hand comes up to gently stroke your cheek. The pad of his thumb feels so soft against your cheek. You can’t help but smile at him, so absolutely in love with him and he returns the grin. 
“You might want to clean that up, honey.” You say with a smirk as you lean against the wall, enjoying the feeling of him pressed against you so intimately. 
“Nope.” He immediately firmly says. 
“Nope?” 
“I don’t care who knows, honestly I want everyone to know. Everyone should know about us and that I’m the only one who gets this baby. Fuck Matsson, fuck anyone else.”
“I think a decision like this should have a proper conversation, one that isn’t just jealously induced sweetie.” You respond as softly as you can, as you close your eyes for a moment. You hear a small scoff.
“Such a tease.” He says and you can’t help but smile when seeing the devilish expression on his face. He’s simultaneously charming, and handsome but also arrogant and you love it so much. 
“I don’t want you to regret it.” You genuinely mean it. “I never would.” He immediately responds. 
“I love you.” 
It’s not a conversation you can have right now, the bathroom at your brother’s 40th birthday party is not the right environment for this. It needs to be one at home that isn’t post-sex acts either.
“I love you too.” He says as he rubs his forehead and sighs briefly. “Go home, I’ll leave fifteen minutes after you. I know- small risk but it’s worth it.” You chuckle and kiss him on the cheek. “I expect you to be in bed waiting when I get there though.” He says earnestly but still playfully. That’s your Stewy, always playful and blunt. 
“Sure thing Mr. Hosseini, maybe write me a love poem on the way home?” You tease with a small giggle. 
“Oh baby, you didn’t get my love poem?” He has that loveable but chaotic, cocky smirk on his face. 
“What?” You raise an eyebrow at him. 
“That was my love poem.” As he delivers that line his smirk somehow grows by ten times. You roll your eyes at him as you kiss him on the lips softly. “Wait, do I need to better emphasise next time?” He teases with a wicked grin and laughs. 
“Get better material, Hosseini.” You immediately quip back with a smirk as you leave the bathroom stall to make an Irish Goodbye from Kendall’s birthday to go home, our home you think. 
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Text
Clandestine. Part Two.
The affair was always a ticking time bomb. No one could have predicted how big the explosion would be.
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Part One. Part Three.
Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x Female Roy Reader
Age Rating - 18+
Warnings - cursing. so much angst. sorry not sorry <3
Word Count - 1.7k
Author's Note - thank you thank you thank you for all of the love on clandestine!! it makes me so happy that so many people love reading stewy fics, because there is a criminal lack of them on here. i am more than happy to provide <3 as always, feedback and reblogs are massively appreciated !!
Series Masterlist.
Masterlist. Requests.
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Knock. Knock. Knock.
Your eyes blink open, sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains. You’re resting comfortably on Stewy’s chest, both of his strong arms wrapped around you. You yawn sleepily, wondering what’s awoken you.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Oh. That. You check the clock on the nightstand, realising that it’s only 7am. On a Saturday. Who’s knocking on the door at 7am on a Saturday morning?
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Fuck, is the noise getting louder? You nudge Stewy carefully, waking him.
“There’s someone banging on your door,” you whisper.
He groans and untangles his legs from yours. He throws on a pair of boxers, and moves to investigate the source of the knocking. You listen intently, curious to know who’s trying to gain Stewy’s attention so determinedly.
The door swings open.
“Ken?” Stewy questions, and you can almost hear the fear in his voice.
“Hey, man. Where the fuck is my sister?”
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're half awake and disorientated. Stewy got up to find out who was at the door 10 minutes ago, and frankly, you're getting worried. Against your better judgement, you throw on his shirt from the night before and make your way out of the bedroom.
You enter the living room to be met face to face with Kendall. Shit.
You briefly wonder if you can play it off, fabricate a story, tell him it's not what it looks like!
Apart from, it's exactly what it looks like.
Someone from Kendall's team saw you and Stewy leave the gala together. And now you're here, in his living room, wearing nothing but his shirt. And your shoes are by the front door. And there's a wine glass with your lipstick print on it abandoned on the counter.
There's no getting out of this one.
Stewy wants to scream, yell at you to go back to his room. He wants to pick you up and throw you out of sight, praying Kendall hasn't noticed all the tell tale signs. But it's too late. He has.
"Okay. Uh - what the fuck is going on?"
Kendall asks the question while looking between the two of you like some sort of cartoon character doing a double take. It doesn't require a genius to figure it out, but Kendall needs to hear one of you say it out loud.
"Listen, Ken-"
"Ken, don't get mad-"
You both speak at the same time, verbally tripping over each other. You've never actually discussed what you'd do or say if you got found out. You both just always naively assumed it wouldn't happen.
You sit down on the edge of the couch, and look at your brother earnestly.
"Ken, I'm not going to sit here and lie to you. It isn't fair. But you can't get mad when I tell you the truth."
"I'll be the judge of that," he mutters sassily. You decide the backtalk is a result of his confusion, and give him a pass.
"Will you come and sit with me, please? The standing is making me nervous. I feel like I'm on trial."
"You might be. I haven't decided yet."
You can't tell if he's joking. He's certainly not smiling.
Kendall moves to sit down next you. Stewy follows, perching himself on the opposite end to give you space. Close enough if you need him, far enough that it won't upset your brother more.
"Start talking," he commands, still confused.
"It's... well I - we - me and Stewy, we're -"
"Together," Stewy finishes for you. Kendall glares at him, and he decides he'll keep his mouth shut for a while.
"Yeah, we're together," you continue. "We have been for over a year. It isn't just sex, or anything. I'm in love with him."
It's weird to finally bear this truth after keeping it a secret for so long. It feels wrong, but also refreshing - like a bitter lemon on a hot day.
Kendall is scarily silent.
"You're... kidding, right?" he asks, finally breaking through the quiet.
"Do I look like I'm kidding?" you question, anger bubbling up. "It's my life, Kendall. It actually doesn't matter who I date. It doesn't change anything. It doesn't make a difference."
He looks at you incredulously.
"You're so fuckin' naive. How can you sit here and tell me this doesn't change anything?"
You go to speak, but he continues.
"You lied to me, first off. Both of you. For God knows how long-"
"Kendall-"
"Let me fucking finish."
You shrink back into the couch, willing it to swallow you.
"You both lied to me. You broke my trust... and uh, that fucking hurts, actually. And then there's the business side of things. You work for Waystar. Stewy is a board member. That's a conflict of interest."
You scoff at him, but then realise he's deadly serious.
"... A conflict of interest?"
"It's against company policy. How am I going to trust you? How is anyone? Information might get leaked. What if I tell you something, and then you tell Stewy? And he tells Sandy and Sandi, and then the Pierces, and all of a sudden nothing is private anymore. I. Can't. Trust. You."
Tears are welling up in your eyes quicker than you can control. You're trying to take deep breaths, begging yourself not to cry in front of Kendall.
"You're breaking my fucking heart, Ken," you whisper.
"Yeah? Well I walked in here this morning, and you broke mine first."
A choked sob escapes you, and the floodgates open. Fresh, hot tears sprint down your cheeks, landing in your lap. Stewy can't stand to sit and watch any longer.
"Okay, man, that's enough. This isn't fair."
"What's not fair is the two people I trust the most both lying to my face for a year. That's what isn't fucking fair."
With that, Kendall stands up and strides towards the front door, slamming it behind him as he leaves. The minute he's gone, Stewy is wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.
"It's okay, baby," he murmurs, stroking your hair. "He'll come around. We'll be okay. If we stick together, we'll be okay."
His reassurances are only making you cry harder, sobs escaping you uncontrollably. You eventually exhaust yourself, falling into a restless sleep in Stewy's arms on the couch.
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You wake up in bed. You've temporarily forgotten the events of the morning, before it all comes crashing back down around you suddenly. Distantly, you can hear Stewy in the kitchen, talking on the phone. You look around the room, and know what you have to do.
You leave the bedroom with a bag in hand, throwing it onto the ground as you grab your shoes. Stewy clocks you, and hangs up the phone.
"Can I call you back? Thanks, man. I'll see you tomorrow."
He runs over to where you're slipping your heels on, precariously balanced against the side of the couch.
"Honey, where are you going?" he questions, panic washing over him at your frantic state. "Wait, have you packed a bag?"
He's trying to catch your eyes, but you keep looking away, desperate to avoid his unrelenting gaze.
"I'm going home."
A pause.
"... This is your home."
You knew he'd say that. It hurts just the same.
"No, Stewy, this is your home. My apartment is across town."
"You haven't been there in months. All your stuff is here. Baby, talk to me. What's going on? Did Kendall get in your head?"
"Kendall's right!" you shout, trying to pick up your bag. Stewy gets there first and grabs it, flinging it behind him, out of your reach.
"About what? He's just in shock, baby! He's confused and he feels betrayed. You don't owe him fuckin' anything. Not after everything that family has put you through."
"They're still my family. I can't lose my entire family, Stewy!"
"What kind of fucking family stab each other in the back? Lie to each other? Sell each other out for business? You're better off without them and you know it."
You know he's right. You're trying to convince yourself he isn't.
"You heard what he said! He won't trust me anymore. No one will. It's shitty, but my job is important to me. I can't be known as the Roy liability."
"Trust me, honey, you're the least likely to be named the Roy liability."
"That's not the point! You're not listening to me. I'm the youngest, I've had to fight for respect every fucking day of my life. I'm finally where I deserve to be. I can't throw it all away for... for love!"
Stewy flinches like you've punched him in the gut. He takes a step back and leans against the kitchen island, trying to keep his balance.
"What happened to 'you and me against the world', huh?" he murmurs.
"I think I got too wrapped up in this - in us. I was stupid to think it could work. We both were."
"I wasn't," he replies defiantly. "I knew exactly what I was getting into. I knew it would be really fucking difficult and I loved you anyway."
Stewy swears his hard breaks so hard, the both of you hear it shatter. A silent tear rolls down his cheek, big brown eyes filled with sadness.
"I'm not sorry for loving you," you whisper. "I'm sorry for a lot of things, but never for loving you."
"If you meant that, you wouldn't be giving up."
You duck your head, unable to look at him any longer.
"This isn't giving up. This is... quitting while we're ahead. If we keep going, we'll just end up having a huge, horrible, public breakup," you stop, and take a deep breath. "I think we were always doomed to fail."
Stewy thinks about the diamond ring that sits in a box in the top drawer of his nightstand. Doomed to fail.
You finally look up at him, and all the air leaves your lungs. You've never seen him look so defeated, so vulnerable. You're the cause of this. And you hate yourself for it.
You pad across the kitchen and pick up your bag from where he threw it, before stopping in front of him.
"I don't regret you, Stewy Hosseini. I never will."
With that, you stride out of the front door, closing it gently behind you. Stewy is left, cold and empty, in the apartment that no longer feels like home.
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so... part 3??
Stewy Tag List -
@shawty-writes-a-little
@616wilsons
@justacaliforniandreamer
@isuspectitwasthenargles
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bowieandqueen11 · 11 months
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Stewy Hosseini Being Jealous Would Include...
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Request: hiii could you do jealous stewy headcanons? i love your writing!!
Thank you so much, that’s very kind of you!! I’m so sorry if this is awful, I need to get used to writing for Stewy but he’s literally a bisexual icon I feel so seen, this gif literally altered my brain chemistry <3
Also I hope you don’t mind, I did this one as F!reader but I’m happy to write another one for any other gender as well!
Warning: strong language, mentions of drugs, and this one is quite NSFW guys, so 18+ please!
My god I don’t think I’ve written much NSFW in the last couple of years, so I’m pretty nervous!! This will probably be a rare occurrence, but I thought I’d do a special treat for Jealous!Stewy ;) I’m still genuinely so scared to post this lmao
(I do not own Succession or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @divorcedtom.)
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Jealousy is an emotion that doesn’t sit well with Stewy Hosseini. Not at all. I feel like Stewy isn’t the guy to play around once he has an actual, solid, going steady partner; he’s grown up as a big mama’s boy, and that’s kind of rubbed off on him - well, when he’s not out partying and doing drugs in the unsavoury bleak bathrooms of New York’s nightclubs, that is. As the relationship grows stronger and stronger, so too does Stewy become more and more possessive: to the point that backhand tactics such as trying to woo you over into whatever supposedly lucrative deal Waystar’s in the throw of at the moment feels incredibly personable. 
What can I say? They know how to hit the man where it hurts. To pierce him, sliding that muddy knife in past the decorum, past the old-money mixed with new guise, past the Wall Street asshole façade, right into his soft heart. The Roys are toying with him: acting as if he’s going to chase that twenty four gold carrot on a string, and if he won’t,  they’ll just find another way to coax him into the darkness.
He’s affronted. He’s annoyed. But Stewy has had many, many years to learn how to handle and best utilise fly-swatters. His parents raised him to be better - to be extraordinary, fearless, level headed, clear cut. This man does not show off his cards unless he has to, and although his heart is beating ferociously at the sight of you being swindled by another man, he keeps it firmly from slipping down to his sleeve. 
He almost laughs out loud when he realises that it’s fucking Tom Wambsgams the siblings have sent over to woo you. Shiv must have been training him again from the way he watches, hawk-eyed, as Tom swings his arms by his sides and leans over onto the bar, blocking your view of the rest of the room. Training your eyes back to his beady eyes, letting out that whale of a laugh that nearly makes Stewy shudder into his cocktail. 
It’s grating on him, the way he’s acting. And Stewy doesn’t appreciate the feeling.
He drops the empty glass of on some passing waiter’s empty tray, and then struts over to the encounter like a cocked peacock; he makes sure to straighten up his watch on the way over, to fix the lapels of his jacket so they were perfectly straight. He wanted to look immaculate before he walked onto the stage and joined the performance again. You glance up at him with a knowing grin as he walks over to stand just slightly behind your back. He winks at you for a second, teeth scraping against his bottom lip before he inclines his head and looks up at a nervous looking Tom. He places a hand firmly on the small of your back: it’s something he’s always done, at parties, conventions, meetings - anywhere the two of you are supposed to split up to both mingle and network. It’s just a small reassurance he started: he’s still here, always in the know, always knowing what’s going on, everything’s still good. He’s always got your back.
His fingers hitch slightly, catching in the back straps of your dress, and you can feel his nails scrape against your skin in an almost imperturbable fashion. But you notice how uncharacteristically stock still he’s standing from the corner of your eyes; his chin is tilted down at a furious angle, warning you of trouble to come. Wambsgams seems to get the message, his smiling stare dropping quickly into an almost aghast open mouth look of shock as he tries to recollect himself, not realising that Shiv had sent him packing into the fucking lion’s den.
You were Stewy’s S/o. You were Stewy’s fucking S/o, and everyone at the company knew that meant you were off limit. He chewed his bottom lip, trying to stop himself from looking panicked, but internally already getting ready to slam Cousin Greg against the wall for allowing himself to look like a complete fucking moron in front of like, thirty of the most important people in the whole entire world. 
Stewy, as usual, just keeps his eyes centred squarely on him. He smiles, oozing charm: radiating appeal, magnetic in the uneasiness he draws in. His eyes never leave Tom’s as he presses a kiss against your hairline, obviously unimpressed by Tom’s attempts to encroach on what is his. What he tries, desperately hard, yet seemingly with so little effort at all, to keep separate from this fucking mess of a family. But you can tell, despite how much he’s trying to compartamentalise the feeling of jealousy and vexation that’s crawling along his skin, it’s eating away at him. Niggling under his skin. It makes you feel... it makes you feel astounded to realise you’re the only person able to sully his impeccable standing. The only person from his personal life, since Kendall disappointed him yet again, he’s allowed to encroach so intricately towards the walls he’s built around his working life. The only person in this room he would be frustrated if he disappointed. Probably the only person in this room who hasn’t disappointed him as well.
He wasn’t about to let that go so easily.
‘Wh-whoah! Hey man! Uh - didn’t mean to- to come raining on your parade, ha ha!’ He gives the two of you a tight lipped smile as he exhales, slowly trying to dispel the awkwardness of Stewy doing nothing but blinking at him by reaching hesitantly towards some of the nibbles lining the bar. He picks up one of the cocktail sticks: a melting lump of brie scattered with some chopped fig, and twirls it between his thumb and pointer finger. 
Stewy just cloaks himself in that fake, eat-shit looking grin, and Tom’s eyes widen in obvious fear. You’re busy trying not to bust a gut from laughing as Tom throws a not very sly look behind his shoulder at Shiv, whose holding a champagne flute in one hand and bust talking to one of Nate’s work colleagues to really care. She just purses her lips and crosses her arm, waving one of her hands in his general direction, obvious distaste lining her features at the sweat beading on her husband’s forehead. 
‘It’s okay, man’, Stewy finally chips in, putting the poor bastard out of his misery. ‘Don’t want you to choke on that canape though. You know’, he takes a step forward, leaning towards Tom ostentatiously, ‘I’ve heard that Logan’s started setting up cheese traps around the office to see how many rats come scurrying in for the kill.’
‘Ha ha! Good, good one, man! You got me, you little prick. You got me, that was so... so good.’ Tom’s pretending to laugh, but he dips his eyes and reaches up to loosen his collar at the same time. He’s starting to be unable to take the heat: to take Stewy’s scrutiny, his piercing, all-knowing gaze. It always amazes how quickly Stewy can manage to flip the tables back onto the Roys. You wince as Tom barks out another short chuckle, and you’re not the only one: Roman’s lounging on the back of a settee nearby, resting next to an oblivious Kendall who’s currently scrolling fervently through one of the news feeds on his phone. The two of them may have been obligated by daddy dearest to be here, but Roman was adamant he was going to add a spark of chaos to the stifling air.
‘Hey! Yeah, little bitty fucking titmouse!’, Roman yells over to Tom, who sighs heavily at the usual repeated annoyance. ‘If you take old Stewy boy over here into the toilets he’ll snort coke off your tits and the two of you can finally kissy kissy like you always dreamed.’
‘The bathroom’s currently occupied.’ It takes Stewy less than five seconds to respond, taking his hand off your back to cross them both professionally in front of his legs. ‘I believe I saw Gerri go in there a while ago with a very presentable looking young man.’ He doesn’t even look over at Roman as he guts him, choosing instead to drop his head down to yours and raise his eyebrows in a knowing look. He’s won this battle too.
Roman spills some of his beer as he darts his eyes up to the vaulted ceiling. He pretends to look around, before letting out an incredulous sounding hyena giggle. ‘Yep, well. Looks like pigs haven’t fucking learnt how to fly yet.’
‘I think, maybe’, Stewy points out towards the empty floor leading to the sliding balcony doors of Shiv’s apartment, ‘if you do a running start, you might be able to this time.’ He finally chooses to glance over at Roman with a level stare, and the younger siblings shrivels under its intensity.
Roman frowns, and in his scrabble down to sit back on his seat he spills even more drops of amber liquid over his hands; the feeling of something lukewarm hitting his brand new hand-sewn suit jacket is enough to finally rouse Kendall away from his phone. And let’s just say, when he sees Roman licking bits of alcohol off his fingers, and then follows the trail down to spot the wet patch on his own arm, he’s not very impressed. Thankfully, everyone being momentarily distracted by the head wrestling match that seems to be going on between the two brothers offers Tom enough of a distraction to slink off.
‘Yep... yep, it’s all good’, the words slide off Tom’s tongue as his eyes flicker anxiously between the two of you. ‘Okay. Well’, his voice rises, ‘I’ll just go see how the old Golden Girls brigade is doing over there.’ He juts his thumb over towards Karl and Frank, giving one last obnoxious laugh before he leaves, stage right. You watch him go; his head whips down as he passes by the chaise lounge, as if he’s swearing violently to himself.
Stewy rolls his eyes, before placing a stern hand comfortingly on your shoulder. He squeezes. ‘You alright baby?’ Once you give a nod of assurance, he rubs the bottom of his chin absently. His eyes seemed to glaze as he finished. ‘Good. Good. Come on love, we have work to do.’
At first you think he means the two of you have to go to some other clueless presidential candidate (if you had to hear Connor Roy talk one more time about his nuclear attack bunkered ranch you were going to explode), but you were surprised to feel Stewy’s arm wind tightly around your waist. You were locked against his swaying hip in a tight vice, and he smugly passed Shiv’s raised eyebrow with a faux blown kiss in her direction as he lead the two of you towards the elevators. He massages against your hip bone, not saying a word as the gold-crested doors closed and the two of you are alone. For a moment, as he looks nonchalantly around the small space, you’re worried some line has been crossed today. But then you feel his hand slide down... further... further, teasingly caressing the top of your thigh, and you thank god Cousin Greg didn’t try to escape into the elevator with the two of you. He smirks as he feels you flutter your legs shut next to him, but he’s quick to tut tut and grab onto the meat of your leg, pulling them apart again and making your shoes slide nosily across the metal floor.
His hand dips down to rest at the bottom curve of your buttocks as the door slides open, shoving his other into his trouser pocket as he leads you out towards the car. It’s a long drive to get back to your hotel room for the night, but as soon as the doors have closed and you’ve nearly run to the bedroom you don’t even have time to unstrap your heels before the man’s on you. He shoves you firmly down onto the bed: his face is straight, unreadable, but his mouth is lined in an almost too intense frown as he refuses to look at you. He just slowly loosens his tie, before throwing it onto the chair in the corner. The tension is palpable, but you don’t even dare to hitch your breath and break it, just crawling backwards and watching the man on your raised elbows. He languidly takes off his cufflinks, placing them neatly down on his chiffonier, double checking they’re perfectly straight. The smug bastard even leans down to check his beard in the mirror, tilting his head side to side before he finally, finally decides to wander unhurriedly over to the edge of the bed.
'You okay there baby', he asks, as if he doesn't know what he's doing.
'Yes, just - fuck Stewy. I need you. Now.'
He steals your breath before you even have time to think. He lunges, famished, and shoves your legs apart so you fall backwards onto the comforter with a satisfying thump. You can feel a knot tighten in the base of your stomach as he’s quick to fill the space left, biting at your ankles as he grabs onto the bottom of your legs and lifts them squarely over his shoulders. His hands are soft, so tender, yet they claw into your skin as he begins to knead the muscles of your calves; his lips are well versed in ravishing you, and so they know exactly where to bite onto the side of your knees and leave the most devastatingly beautiful teeth marks. He’s unstoppable as his mouth licks and latches and moves like smooth butter further and further down the inside seam of your right thigh. You yelp when you feel his other hand reach up to grab and squeeze onto your breast, running the gap between his thumb and pointer finger past your nipple. 
Your hips buck up against him, but he’s quick to shut that down. He runs his hand down your side until his palm is placed flat against your belly button, holding you down against the warming sheets. He needs to be in control again.
His beard has that familiar scratch that you know is going to leave a burn tomorrow, but god, by the way his free hand unlatches from your ankle to the side of your hip, pushing at your waist until you’re lifted slightly up from the ground and he can slide his hand under to squeeze your buttocks, does it make it all worth it.
With your legs now straight up in the air, he tugs them closer around his head, as if daring you to move away from him again. You squirm, but happily oblige, enjoying the pressure of his lips nibbling against your panties as he rolls the bottom of your dress up your legs. He gently takes your clenched hands and places them on the bed either side of you, spread eagled without even lifting his head to look. He squeezes your fingers gently, before fisting your hands into the duvet. It’s a warning: a warning that this is going to be rough. That, as his nose presses into your groin and he props his knees up properly against the edge of the bedframe, that this may be so fervent, so passionate, so ferocious, that the bed might slam back into the wall so loudly it might shatter. That you might scream out his name so mewingly between the fingers he’s shoved into your mouth, that he may have to pay off the hotel clerks the next day for all the damages and disturbances caused during the night.
But by god, if it isn’t worth it. Because he loves you with everything he’s got. And gosh, if he isn’t going to show you tonight that all those fancy pants asshole he comes into contact with aren’t up to scratch. They’re not nearly on the same level as him.
He knows how it feels to lose: his family, they once lost everything, and built this life up again from the ashes. But tonight, he wins. He wins. As he hears you groan, he realises that he’s already won.
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nicolettemarionette · 10 months
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Business with Pleasure
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Pairing: Kendall Roy x Reader x Stewy Hosseini Description: Stewy is preoccupied when Kendall comes to him with a pitch. You don't seem to mind the intrusion, though. Words: 1K Rating: SMUT (more under the cut)
Warnings: Cursing, drinking, implied drug use, smut, age gap, semi-public fondling, exhibition, teasing
A/N: A horny reimagining of S1E3 because I'm a slut for Kendall and Stewy ;)
Part 2 up now!
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It's a party; Kendall Roy had attended more parties than he could remember. From lavish galas filled with pissing contests of charitable donations, to tedious mixers spent appeasing disingenuous executives from billion dollar corporations, to ragers mixing copious amounts of recreational drugs and hard liquor. The gathering he finds himself at now resembles the latter - pharmaceutical helpers being handed around like party favours as soon as he steps onto the threshold.
He swallows down the itch to indulge, manoeuvring his way through the coked up crowd. A thick curtain separates him from a private room and the familiar laugh of an old friend. He's prepared, thoroughly confident in his approach as he pushes into the red-lit space.
Then he's unprepared for the sight of you; eyes half lidded, makeup smudged, lips swollen, hand gripping the older man's wrist, fingers hidden under a silky dress, hips rocking of their own accord. Kendall tears his eyes away, clearing his throat, "Stewy."
"Kendall," Stewy doesn't move his arm, despite your cheeks flushing at the intrusion. He merely raises his brows, "Kinda in the middle of something here."
"Yeah, well...we need to talk." It's curt and a clear indication for privacy, which Stewy wilfully ignores, his breath ghosting over your neck as he bends down to breathe in the familiar smell: a luxury fragrance he'd gifted you. Sweet, floral, delicate, just like you.
"Then talk."
Kendall frowns, then sighs exasperatedly, arms crossing over his chest as he looks everywhere but the lavish love seat you're sprawled across. "Okay, so you know how everyone kinda...hates you."
Stewy hums, "Uh huh. No, that's not something I'm aware of. Do you hate me, sweetheart?"
His fingers touch you again, lazily sliding over your pussy, grazing your clit, drawing a soft whimper from your lips. You shake your head pathetically in response to his question, though you're sure it's rhetorical. In reward he applies more pressure, a shit eating grin plastered to his face, corners of his eyes crinkling and the edges of his lips turned up; thoroughly amused as he watches Kendall's gaze going up and down your body so quickly he would've missed it if he hadn't been directly looking at him.
His friend swallows thickly, then states, as loudly and clearly as he can, "Well, people do, hate you. Private equity, getting their meat hooks in, chiselling your profit like uh, like a vampire locust fuck."
"What is this? Is this a roast cos...if you haven't noticed I kinda have shit to do." Stewy punctuates the sentence by dipping his fingers lower, groaning at how easily they slip into your entrance. He always knew you weren't as innocent as you feigned - from the auspicious smile you'd given him the first time he took you, in the restroom at some pompous art exhibition, and now this. He's embarrassingly hard.
The tension in the air is thick and hazy, hanging over you, heat blooming in your stomach with every deliberate stroke of Stewy's fingers against your walls, the man watching only adding to the searing desire. Kendall Roy is an easily recognisable man. You chance a look at him: tall, impeccably dressed, strikingly handsome, far older than you.
Dark eyes meet your own, momentarily, a certain hunger within them, teeth digging into his lips, "Right, well, I'll cut to the chase."
"Okay."
"How about instead of taking us over, you give us four billion dollars; I stay boss, you stop raiding shitty companies for scraps, you invest for once in a blue collar corporation that's currently..."
He trails off at the sight of Stewy's fingers pushing into your mouth. The way your lips close around them, suck them, Kendall definitely isn't imagining your tongue swirling around them. And he's definitely not picturing those lips wrapped around his cock.
His oldest friend gives him a knowing look, waiting for him to elaborate, which he does, stammering out the rest of his pitch, "Yeah, right. You know, it's currently undervalued by some unfounded concerns about its leadership, i.e: the 'Lord Fuckleroy' here. But, you invest, the story twists, happy ending for all." 
Stewy pulls his fingers from your mouth, trailing them down the valley of your breasts, brushing over your pebbled nipples, before ghosting over your thighs, toying with the fabric of your shift. "Obviously, I don't usually take minority stake in a company."
"Yeah obviously, because you're..." Kendall starts, then sighs. It's becoming increasingly hard for him to focus when Stewy's edging closer to your core again, the way your breath hitches telling him he's reached his target again. He folds his arms, "How about for once, you make things bigger? You know, with your old pal?"
Stewy suddenly plunges his fingers deeper than before, curling them and you can't help the needy cry that leaves your lips. He outright laughs, the sound dark and gruff as he shrugs to his 'old pal', "Bro, I can't even begin to think about this. But if I could, to sell it, I'd need boning stock."
"As long as we remain in control."
"Well," Stewy pauses when your hand finds purchase in the expensive fabric of his suit pants, self-restraint wearing thin, his hips chasing your touch, thrusting his fingers harder into you. "Effective control, okay. I'm also gonna need a board seat."
Despite Kendall's attempts to ignore the situation, the nervous rubbing of his neck gives away his discomposure. Still, his voice is strong, "Oh I'd force it on you, dude, for the optics. Shit hot CEO has some hot shit new money for investment. Yeah?"
"I'm not necessarily totally opposed to this notion."
"That's right, and luckily I speak Stewy. And that's Stewy for 'I've got a raging hard on for this." The moment the words leave his mouth he sees a barely suppressed bearded grin.
"If that isn't the pot calling the kettle a fucking minority," Stewy gestures to the sizeable tent pitching in the CEO's pants, brows raising comically. 
Kendall grimaces, adjusting his stance, "Oh, uh, sorry. But we're good, right?"
Stewy moves his fingers quicker, focusing on that spongy spot inside that has your face contorting with pleasure, pushing you towards orgasm and then his hand returns from your sticky thighs to pick up his glass. He raises it, "Yeah, we're good."
He rolls his eyes when you whine at the loss of contact, frustrated with his teasing. He takes a long sip of the bitter liquor, then before Kendall turns his back, adds, "But, just a thought. Why don't you...hang back for a bit? Celebrate?"
The insinuation clouds the air and before Kendall can even answer, he's being cut off, "I don't think-"
"What do you think, sweetheart?" His pet name has you in the palm of his hand, half smile on his face. "You want Ken to fuck you?"
You look nervous for a moment, but it quickly fades with the offer of being shared between two of the most powerful men in the city, "If...if he does."
"She's been practically soaked since you walked in. And you and Rava are done, right?"
"We're..." Kendall thinks back to the hurtful words exchanged, the emptiness of his bed. It's been weeks without contact, his sex drive through the wall. "We're separated, yes."
"And the banks not fucking you anymore, so how about you do some fucking of your own," as if he needs anymore convincing, Stewy's fingers are teasingly pulling the thin straps holding up your breasts. "Come on, it'll be just like old times."
Kendall tilts his head, looking past his friend to search your face for a moment, wondering if you're lust drunk or just fucking wasted. Then, he decides he doesn't really care. "Fuck it, yeah."
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A/N: This is my first time writing in a while and this is quite short and probably riddled with mustakes buttttt would totally be up for a part 2 if people want it. Any feedback is much appreciated :)
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bleggmoe-blog · 8 months
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I need more succession fics. I’m running out. This is an issue. I am officially a dependent of fictional characters. *cough* Stewy *cough* Roman *cough* No. Seriously. Like who tf else is going to lull me into a peaceful slumber?
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Closer - End of the Line
Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x Fem. Reader Description: You get hired for a photoshoot with the man behind Maesbury Capital for a GQ-style magazine. Shooting is often all about the price. Rating: General/Teen Word Count: 2.8k AN: Hope you enjoyed it as much as it to ideate it! All photos from which I drew inspiration were done for the GQ article and the NYT article. Props to Erik Tanner and Derrick Leung for giving everyone a vision.
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You arrive to the studio just in time to start setting up the equipment and doing test shots to determine the flash intensity. The magazine gave you a list of shots that you would be best to prepare for the feature. The videocall with the stylist was a good opportunity to start making up an idea of what the vibe was going to be with the outfits. You decided it would be best to approach the shoot with some Black and Whites, focus on lighting and keep the backgrounds simple. The man in question was running late and, while you were comfortable with the conceptual proposal for Flux, you didn’t know how at ease the subject would be with trying more artsy pictures and not the classic Bloomberg profile portrait.
“Hey! So, it might take him at least another 20 minutes to arrive. Are you booked after this?”
“Not really, I would’ve just appreciated to be able to finish early so I could get the contacts back to you today.”
“You have until tomorrow night, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”
You were starting to get bored so, in the meantime, you Google a little more about your subject to see if that gives you any additional hints on how to relax him in front of the camera. The headlines were a mixture of financial press and good old classic gossip. On the financial side, Maesbury Capital was almost as getting a visit from the Grim Reaper confirming you were a dead man walking. His word made the difference between a lifeline or the dissolution of whatever you had going for your company. The pictures were classical portraits with him sitting in front of the camera, not doing much aside from looking straight into the lens.
The gossipy headlines were from years past. They portrayed a youth where there were frequent clubbing outings with models, socialites, and actresses around. Some shots were almost from 12 years ago and, while paparazzi would always be pesky with those under the spotlight, he seemed to be out of that circle and into galas. He looked good without the beard during his youth and, in his 20’s, he must’ve been quite the player in the NYC clubbing scene. In either case, he was favored by the camera, so that was not going to be hard to replicate.
In the meantime, you were blasting some rock and pop songs, testing the waters of what could work best to set a mood. You started to bop to some of the songs when the knock on the door alerted you of the arrival of the man of the hour.
“Mr. Hosseini, let me introduce you to our photographer for the day.” He went on to shake your hand as you introduced yourself. “She’ll walk you through the plan as we have two outfits planned.”
He was handsome indeed and he matched the description of both gossipy and financial news. Bloomberg and People agreed on his presence being imposing and how he could command any room he walked into. The one he shouldn’t be able to control was precisely yours as you were the lead during the session, but it would remain to be seen as the pause between your introduction and your next sentence showed a crack in the process.
“Yes! So, we will start with the lighter pictures, making use of the set we have here.” You said, pointing to the indoor area with the flash rig you had created. “And then, once you’ve change to the second outfit, we move outdoors, and we try some high contrast stuff.”
“Okay.” He said, looking at the set as he was processing the brief, before looking at you. “Where do you want me now?”
“Dead center of the set, please.” You were determined to take back your shoot, so as the make-up crew were finishing some final touches once he was under the lights, you took a couple of sips of your coffee to ground you back to reality.
He was sitting, in perfect composure waiting for your instructions. You stood beside him with the exposure meter angled to his face to get a reading for setting up the camera. The proximity gave you a whiff of his perfume. A luscious fragrance, mixing some strong hints of coffee and cigars. The session would get increasingly harder to control if you were going to keep getting distracted with anything pertaining him.
“I’ve always wondered what that is.” He asked, searching for your eyes.
“Exposure meter” You responded, looking chill outside, cancelling the train of thought coming from that gaze inside. “We wouldn’t want to have you look like a ghost on the pictures.”
“Is it even possible?”
“Today, yes. We’re shooting black and white.”
“Any particular reason for that?”
“I think it gives a more intimate, timeless vibe to the shots.” He smirked, seeming pleased with your response.
Picking up your camera gave you back the sense of control you needed. You configure it to the meter readings and started shooting some pictures to confirm everything was according to plan. He looked dazed by the first couple of flashes but regained the composure by the final practice shot. He was a natural in front of the camera, as the third shot was already useful.
“We’re now set to begin Mr. Hosseini. We’ll go for a bit of a chat to get some candid shots, and for others I’ll ask you to pose for the camera.” He nodded affirmatively. “Any questions or music requests?”
“Yes, one.” You raised your sight from the viewfinder. “It’s just Stewy if we’re going get intimate with this.”
“Alright then.” You shield yourself with the camera to hide the hints of blush that appeared after the statement. “Stewy, would you mind angling yourself ¾ for me?”
The initial pose was awkward, but after showing with your body that you were expecting his torso to be in profile with the face angled more towards the camera than out of frame, he started nailing your vision.
“First question, where are you from?” You asked, standing in front of his seat, at eye level from him, and safely shielded away from any direct contact with the camera between both of you.
“Originally, Iran, though I should count myself as a New Yorker after a lifetime here. You?” You answered with the summarized version of your life. You had made it to New York on an arts scholarship that eventually led to your big shot.
You asked him to keep the body posture and change facial angles, but this outfit seemed to be running its course faster than expected. He also seemed to be out of his element with the jacket open, showing the shirt. You asked for a 5-minute pause to check how they were coming along. One was useful, but the rest were giving you very little to work with.
“Are you comfortable with this?” You asked, pointing at the open jacket.
“I can be if you ask me to.” He says, testing the waters with how far he can go with subtle comments.
“It doesn’t work that way. I want you to be you, not business you.” You were probably too in control to notice he was trying to flirt. However, that didn’t matter as you were feeling stressed about the lack of potential in the initial shots.
He started closing the jacket and you snapped pictures of the process. As he was settling the collar, he was getting dazed by the number of shots you were trying to milk out of the process.
“Hey, hey” He tried to get your attention. “Is this really necessary?”
“Everything can be good material.” You said, trying to appear more serious than what was needed from behind the camera.
“Can we pause for a minute?” He said, playfully trying to grab the camera lens. “I’m getting blinded here.”
You pull the camera down, to find him standing closer than what you expected. You get a renewed whiff of the perfume, now having interacted with the leather jacket.
“Is this how it’s supposed to go? You were so relaxed before.” Stewy looks intently at you, leaving the distance of the camera in your hands be the only thing separating you two.
“I’m sorry about that but I need you to do your thing, without minding me, for the candids.” This made you pull your guard down and steal a glance from him being so close. The little glimpses of grey in his beard suited him so well.
“Can I see what I’m doing? Just for reference.”
You show him the monitor with the pictures already taken and give him a few comments. You make a mental note that the candid of him trying to grab the camera is definitely going for final selection. The left side lighting managed to capture the light contrast coming from his streak of grey hair and he looks relaxed. With some additional instructions, Stewy gets the hang of the candids and you repeat a couple of shots with the jacket open.
By now, you’ve learned that he studied at Harvard Business School, quit his rising career in McKinsey for starting Maesbury, and had been to some of the most exclusive bars around. You also start easing behind the camera, letting the atmosphere lighten from your initial absolute grip on the course of the session. He had an imposing presence, but you were guiding how that would translate into the shots.
“I’ll check one final time the monitor, but I think we’ve run this outfit’s course!” You said cheerfully, placing the camera on the table after almost half an hour of continuous shots. Stewy stands behind you, peeking from above the shoulder some of the final outcomes. A playful “No peeking” leaves your lips, making him laugh.
“How can I approve in which I look best if I can’t see them?”
“You won’t. I’m the one getting paid for that.”
“Controlling, I see.” He gave you a side glance before following the styling assistant for the outfit change.
In the meantime, you take a break to gulp the coldest water bottle on sight and start making notes of which pictures you’ll preselect for the contact sheet. You could trace the simultaneous process of you two getting comfortable with your roles. He let go the initial stiffness and you got comfortable directing him. Knowing the next shots were outside, gave you the full confidence you could finish with some quality content. You leave with your camera to the side of the building where the studio was located and start doing some practical shots for adjustment.
While you had seen the outfit pictures from the stylist’s videocall, nothing could prepare you for the final result. If he was looking in control with the first outfit, this one clearly settled who was commanding anything moving forward. The ultramarine blue outfit was doing a number or two on both of you. Stewy was clearly on his element, an impeccable tailored suit, giving him an almost regal look. The blue contrasted with the darkness of his hair and eyes and was ultimately elevated with a watch on a matching color. You were dreading to go with the exposure meter because every step tempted you more towards touching at least the suit lapels.
Standing in front of him, you got it close enough to his face to get the reading and exchanged a determined glance. You were not about to lose it so close to the finish line.
“Are you always so stately in your daily life?” You said standing in front of him, holding your ground.
“Do you mean in control?”
“No, stately. The suits, the watches, the whole cold business persona.” You say taking your stance behind the camera, ready to shoot.
“So, you’ve done your research.” He was standing full frontal, fixing his lapels as you started to shoot.
“I’m asking because that’s all the reference shots I had of Stewy the financier.” The lack of an external flash would give him less hints of any incoming shots. While he could put up more resistance to the guidance, you could get other shots, in motion, that otherwise wouldn’t come.
“What do you know about finance?”
“As much to know you’re like a death sentence.” The response made Stewy smirk and try to pierce the distance between the camera and you after your response.
“Some would call it the circle of life.” Something ticked in him, and he was determined to get his way.
“What’s in it for you? Power tripping?” You crouched to get a lower shot, angling towards getting his hands at eye level.
“Money, definitely. And control.”
“Is that why you want to select the shots? Or are you scared of what finance bros will think of this?” You said teasingly, though keeping a serious tone to match the severity with which he was looking.
“What do you want out of this spiel?”
“You.” You punctuated. “Show me you in absolute control.”
The next shots were a blur. No softness in his eyes, pure and unabridged desire to have it all laid at his feet. You try a couple of takes without the suit jacket to impressive results too. The dark background highlighted his greys and enhanced the depth of the blue suit. It made the exposed parts of him become accent pieces on an otherwise monotone setting.
“Is that what you were looking for?” He said once you lowered the camera and placed it across your chest.
“I’ll let the monitor be the deciding factor.” You say before spotting one final potential angle, something to be playful with since you had made none of those shots. “Before we finish, how about you give me one final angle? An extreme close-up if you will.”
Stewy stands by the doorframe, sunlight hitting his left side. You’re standing a step away from him, enough to get the scene in but benefit still from the extreme close-up angle.
“Do you want me to still dominate you?” He asks, his voice soft enough to make it seem an innocent remark despite the angle you’ve recently explored for the other poses.
“I highly doubt you ever were.” You respond, pulling your confidence out while counting on the camera as a shield. Stewy raises his hands, almost as a sign of a faint victory for himself, shooting a smirk from behind them. His eyes, while on the side, are still fixed in you. The confidence of Stewy Hosseini in one picture, you thought.
Once you walk back and plug the camera back to the screen, you start deciding what could work best for the contacts. You’d let the editors decide, but you were already partial on a five-picture set that would be best for the article. He was taken immediately to get changed and finalize the profile, so he didn’t get a peek of the final shots. The last moments outside had really made you see him in what he must incite in people once he walks into a meeting room. You surrender, let things take its course, and put some resistance but as a method for self-preservation more than salvation.
He came out of the dressing room on another stately suit, yet this was the actual one he had been wearing while you were setting up and chilling in the studio. He was wearing a sweater underneath instead of a shirt, giving it a more casual and welcoming presence.
“Do you have anything else to do afterwards?” He said placing a hand on the upper part of your back. Nothing suggestive until, as you two walked towards the studio entrance, the hand started sliding down towards the lower end of it and you were walking beside each other.
“I wasn’t so sure before, but I might now.” His raised eyebrow gives you an open window for proposing what you had in mind. “Have you ever heard of Rhomboid?”
“Do you know anyone?”
“A couple of friends are organizing it.”
“I’ll pick you up.” He handed you his card and you took it with the hand closest to him. “Dinner will be my treat.”
“In that case, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.” You stop besides his car, and you hand him one of your business cards from your camera bag.
“Pleasure’s all mine.” As his car goes off into New York traffic you head home ready for a night about town and the new venue your friends scored for this week’s party. You’d have time tomorrow to sort the pictures out. But, tonight, it was all about power dynamics.
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okay but
not Maid of Honor/Best Man, per se but being former college buddies and now Wedding Party Pals with Stewy
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Having had a crush on him back when you were in college
And now him teasing you at the engagement party that you must be so happy to be in a wedding party with everyone from the old days
And that you can finally act on that creepy crush you had a Kendall
And you're like "? ? ? ? I never had a crush on Kendall?"
And he's like "Pffft, yeah you did, you used to hang out with us all the time, trying to hop on that."
And you're like uh, holy shit? Oh, god. You know you were pretty good at hiding your feelings back then but you didn't think you were that good.
And yeah, Kendall's great, sure. But that is so not where you interest was.
And now you're back around Stewy all the time, and he's just as teasing, just as funny, just as fucking smart, and god—damn, he's attractive.
And that little acorn of confidence that he had in college has just grown into a fricking confidence tree
And he's swanning around, being smart and funny and gorgeous, and uh, wow, this crush is way worse now than it ever was before.
And he STILL thinks you wanna fuck Kendall but you know what, letting him believe that is way better than course correcting, because he is talking to you just like he used to
And now he's telling you which of the bridesmaids he wants to bag and holy fuck it's like you're nineteen again. It's torture. But not bad enough for you to tell him the truth
Until you get way too drunk at the rehearsal dinner—
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may0tuna · 11 months
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I don't know what I like more; Stewy calling me a princess or Stewy calling Kendall a princess
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laundy · 11 months
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After 3 months of radio silence following Gojo’s acquisition of Waystar Royco, Stewy meets up with Kendall.
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do you remember what your dad did to you as a kid? I was there. I was THERE. stewy went to dinners at the roy mansion and he watched logan terrorize his kids, he was there for it. god. years ago one of the great kenstewy fic writers commented on how stewy never raises his voice at kendall even when he’s angry, and never gets physically aggressive either, how his hands are always in his pockets in the first friend card scene, and how this speaks to knowing kendall’s past, having seen first hand what logan’s fits of rage did to his best friend. and now he gets to watch that friend dedicate himself to becoming his dad, the very thing he was always trying to get him away from. because he remembers what logan did to him as a kid, he was there. kendall melted into that hug like it was second nature to put his head right there on stewy’s shoulder, and he cried on it when he’s only done that in his absolute lowest moments with the physical affection from his family. cause they knew each other as kids and stewy was there for everything. im sorry i know we’ve already known all this for years and this is literally the thesis of kenstewy but like, it wasn’t actually the text of the show before
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chaithetics · 1 year
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Furtive Hands
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Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) reader
Word count: 7.3K
Chapter/content warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, established/secret relationship, smut, fingering, P in V intercourse, some fluff, soft but also kind of dom-ish Stewy? Vague-ish mentions of canonical childhood abuse/trauma, and toxic family dynamics, Logan makes a cameo at the start (deserves its own warning), Logan's death and grief mentioned also Roman being a bit of a douche. I think that's it?
(Reader is technically a Roy because that's how the plot/idea worked but I avoided physical descriptions other than reader having AFAB physical characteristics. You're more than welcome to canon this reader as being adopted or half-siblings with the other Roys. I try to avoid giving physical characteristics and am tempted to continue to code all my readers as readers of colour out of spite due to the lack of intersectionality in fics. My reader in A Cinematic Lover has no physical characteristics other than being chronically ill but is Desi coded.)
Author's Note: I didn't proofread all of it, whoops. This is also my first time writing Stewy and I'm not too sure how I feel about this fic. I don't feel super confident in saying that "I captured his voice" etc. But I adore Stewy Hosseini and Arian Moayed and we need more Stewy fics. Please let me know your thoughts! I'd really appreciate the feedback :)
Like being in the Roy family, being the youngest in the clan had its perks and downfalls. You’d been able to get away most of your life with your father’s wrath directed towards your older siblings but at a certain point when they’d reached adulthood before you and it was quickly redirected towards you. You and your older brother Connor were the only ones to stay out of the family business, Connor was technically more involved than you which said a lot to anyone familiar with the family’s affairs. 
Despite being the youngest it would be fair to say you were the most emotionally mature of your siblings (although you could easily admit that’s a very low bar) and the most well-adjusted (again, another relatively low bar). You were a practising clinical psychologist who had of course undergone a bunch of therapy yourself for your childhood trauma. You’d wrapped up a session and were walking a patient out before heading back into your office for your office lunch date when you were interrupted by a booming presence. 
“Dad?” You immediately questioned. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be here-” 
“I thought I’d stop by. See the new office-”
“I’ve had this office for 3 years.” You interjected. 
Logan quirked an eyebrow at that, he seemed almost amused at your assertive call out. You had been a louder child like Roman but unlike your brother, you became quieter as a teenager. You knew your father had assumed that was because you didn’t have whatever “deficiency” he believed Roman had and that you’d grown out of it. The reality was, that it was a trauma response and you’d learnt that life was easier with him if you were quiet and made your presence as sparse as possible. 
He’d always found playing his games with you particularly interesting due to this, you weren’t as quiet now as you were as a teenager and you weren’t as loud as you were as a child, somewhere in the middle. You could slink off at the few family gatherings you intended to not be questioned or dragged into shop talk. But you still had a known presence and you were the only one of his children who could somewhat confidently cut him off and respond to him with what he’d deem as some sense of calmness. You weren’t as pliant to him as your siblings which made his mind games all the more intriguing to him. 
“Right. Well, it’s a nice enough place.” 
“Thanks.” You bit your lip as you waited for your father to continue, he didn’t show up for no reason. 
You were trying to project a calm facade you were starting to worry for a myriad of reasons. With what was going on with your family this wouldn’t be any pure coincidence. You weren’t the most involved in the family business but you were well aware and received updates from Kendall. But there was also concern over the potential sighting of your lunchtime visitor. 
“Well dear, I need you to do something for me.” You tilted your head and your brow furrowed at his words. 
“Since when do you need favours? Specifically favours from clinical psychologists?” You questioned. 
“It’s to do with your siblings.” Logan spoke flatly as he then sat himself down on one of the armchairs in your waiting room. He was mildly irritated that you hadn’t invited him into your office and that you’d kept that room off limits for him, blocking the doorway to it. 
You scoffed at his words and rolled your eyes, one thing was for sure, whatever this was, it wasn’t good. 
“Continue.” 
Logan’s eyes narrowed at you slightly as he watched you as if it was the first time he was seeing you. He was used to you being uninterested and not the way that Shiv tried to play everything cool with Logan. You were genuinely uninterested, your eyes looked cold.
You had a colder approach with your father in comparison to your siblings, it was healthier and the easiest for you to maintain without being sucked in like they were. It wasn’t a big surprise to anyone that you weren’t impressed with the confrontations that happened in your presence, your siblings had weird concepts and responses of support. But there were the built-in responses as you’d gotten older, Kendall defended and you comforted. 
Logan hadn’t always given you a great deal of attention in those moments but he was familiar with your mannerisms as he’d call them now. But today you seemed annoyed, this wasn’t an emotion that Logan felt like he’d seen from his youngest in almost a lifetime. He  found it to almost be the most interesting he’d ever found you, he mused that you must know or be hiding something. 
“Well, you grew up with Kendall, Roman and Siobhan. You understandably know them well and you have a unique skillset with your area of expertise.” He paused for a moment watching your face as he said that before continuing. 
“And?” 
“You would’ve made observations of their behaviours over the years. Symptoms-behaviours- whatever the fuck you want to call it. You have the power to diagnose.” You looked at him and the cooler facade you normally actively projected with him was starting to fade into one of horror. “I’d like you to write a piece on that, about your siblings. Their credibility, illnesses. A media circuit perhaps as well. You’re a credible and telling source.” 
You stared at your father in silence, you didn’t know what to say to him. This was awful, even for him. 
“So?” He broke the silence, his eyes were deadly serious, and his lips were in a small but twisted smirk. 
“No. No! Just no…That’s absolutely fucked up. No.” You looked around starting to think about how messed up that your father hadn’t just come up with this idea but that he was willing to do it to his children, your older siblings and drag you into this. “No, and if I did that who would then get the chance to write the think piece on you?” You asked sardonically rubbing your brow. 
“Well, I’m sure Shiv could whip up a sequel to her letter on Kendall.” He bit back almost nonchalantly. 
“I shouldn’t be surprised but I just can’t get over the fact that you’d do this, that you’d ask me to do this dad. What you did to Kendall after that Board vote, was sick… And again? To all of them?” You were starting to feel nauseous and weaker around him. 
“Are you talking to Kendall?” He asked in a cold tone. 
“He’s my brother.” You raised an eyebrow at him. 
“And I’m your father.” 
“Unfortunately.” You looked into his eyes and bit your cheek. 
He scoffed at that. He’d come in relatively calm, well calm for him but he was quickly becoming agitated at your lack of cooperation.  
“He’s a lousy excuse for a son and a brother.” 
“Kendall doesn’t interrupt my day of work for a fucked up favour.” You spat out, you weren’t shying away from his gaze even though his presence was getting too much for you. “I think you should leave Dad. I have patients and I need to eat something, I need lunch.” 
“Fine. Don’t give my regards to your fucking brother.” He said as he started to get up, you just leaned against the wall. 
“Hey-” Stewy’s voice crackled against the thick tension between you and your father as he waltzed into the entryway of your waiting room. He paused for a second as his gaze quickly landed on your father and you. You thought you saw a brief flicker of panic in his eyes but he quickly and efficiently plastered over it. 
“And what the fuck are you doing here?” Logan directed at Stewy with a huff and an eye roll. Logan’s concern and suspicion were piqued significantly now as his disappointed gaze flicked over to you. 
“Well sir Roy, your deleterious business plans and board meetings are getting a bit too traumatic, that much I now need to see Dr Roy.” Stewy immediately and confidently jumped in, his playful and pointed lie came across smoothly and convincingly. Logan scoffed at that and started to walk out. 
“Don’t think about trying any of your peacock philandering with my daughter,” Logan said to Stewy as he walked past him. 
“How thoughtful, safe travels sir.” Stewy laughed off Logan’s comment which just seemed to irritate him more. 
“Think about it.” Logan said as he looked back at you as he was in the doorway, you just held his gaze for a moment. 
“I’ll see you at the wedding.” You calmly stated, he narrowed his eyes again at you for a second and then just walked off. 
**********
Stewy wasn’t a patient of yours, he fortunately never had been, that would’ve been a massive ethical violation. He was meeting you at the office for lunch, something that you two often did. It had been vaguely discussed in the past that if somebody ever saw him in your office it could be easy to dismiss it as him being a patient or wanting some kind of psychological consultation relating to work. It was never an excuse that had been needed before today and you were surprised at how quickly Stewy went into that mode and how he simply sold it. 
You were sitting on the sofa in your office with your legs in Stewy’s lap, he had an arm over the back of the sofa and his other hand was gently caressing your legs as you recounted the brief visit from your father before Stewy came. Stewy was playful and a bit chaotic but he was also intelligent and he could be serious and thoughtful, which he often was for you. 
“I should call Kendall before something happens.” You said looking at Stewy and he nodded, continuing his comforting, soft touches on your sprawled-out legs. 
You grabbed your phone and called Kendall, the phone barely rang before it was answered. 
“Yo?”
“Dad came by the office earlier today.” 
“Oh? What did the old fuck want?” Kendall teased.
“He asked me to write a piece on you, Rome and Shiv. To air out everyone’s laundry, basically ‘diagnose’ you all and try to discredit your side of what’s going on. It was so fucked up Ken.” There was a pause for a moment, you heard Kendall sigh and then inhale. You made eye contact with Stewy who was silent and watching you. 
You had a requited soft spot for Kendall. He was your older brother and he was a good one at that. He was fiercely defensive of all his siblings, which he seemed to prioritise over his own trauma and feelings in confrontations with your father. But as the baby of the family and not having the same tongue as your siblings, you suppose you came across as weaker, more vulnerable. You’d concluded a long time ago that this added to the soft spot that Kendall has for you. You also thought subconsciously it was also linked to the fact that you were the most patient and sympathetic sibling he had. 
“What did you say?” Kendall finally asked, his voice was more serious now. 
“I said no, a bazillion times. I told him it was sick and asked him to leave.”
Ken nodded, and then he remembered that you couldn’t see that. 
“That’s pretty fucked up. Not surprising though I guess…”
“Are you with Rome and Shiv?” You asked. 
“Uh-huh, they’re in the uh, they’re inside.” Kendall answered quickly. 
“Can you tell them?” 
“Yeah, sure but-” 
“I’m really sorry Ken but I have another patient soon, I just wanted to tell you as soon as I could in case something happened. I didn’t want to do it over text.” You answered. 
“Okay, I’ll see you at the rehearsal. Thanks as well.” His second sentence was softer. 
“Yeah, of course. See you then.” You then hung up and looked at Stewy. 
“Did he sound okay to you?” You asked Stewy. 
“Sounded pretty okay for Ken.” Stewy responded as he moved his hand away from your legs and to hold your now phone-free hand. You just nodded and Stewy changed the subject to something else for the rest of your lunch hour which you appreciated. 
****** 
You would say you have a complicated but good relationship with your siblings. While you had the same mother as Kendall, Shiv, and Roman, you and Connor were bonded by your outcast status regarding family affairs. You didn’t agree with a lot of the opinions that left Connor’s mouth but he was still a compassionate older brother to you. You often were iced out together at family gatherings as it was all a business opportunity for your father’s attention. 
You were glad that you just had to relay your father’s request to Kendall. Roman was unpredictable and Shiv would’ve assumed that you had sold them out and this was a mind game. An opinion she’d probably make clear to everyone else and in some way to you as well. 
There had always been significant sibling rivalry in the Roy household. But Shiv had always seen you as her competition in particular, you two were the only women and she lived in a man’s world always striving to prove herself out of spite and nature. Even now she still believed your kinder nature was an act to disarm. She never hid the looks of distrust in her eyes.  
You were now home. You still had your apartment and stayed there occasionally but that was more to save face than anything else. Somewhere along the timeline of your relationship, you’d almost practically moved into Stewy’s apartment. The walk-in wardrobe was equally divided, and your favourite teas were in the kitchen. “It’s closer to your office” had been the justification at the time when he’d been encouraging you to stay over more. 
It was surprising that you hadn’t been caught yet with that in mind, part of you would sometimes wonder if your siblings did know but they were saving it but you knew that if they did it would’ve come out to slap you in the face by now. 
When you’d first met Stewy what felt like a million years ago you never would’ve expected something like this to happen. Then when this all happened and started a few years ago it was still, very unexpected. But he knew probably better than what anyone else would ever be able to comprehend what it meant to get seriously involved with a Roy, even one not involved in the family business. He and Kendall had an interesting friendship and history, with Stewy having been mostly good to your brother. But Stewy was always good to you. 
As you let yourself in you kicked off your shoes lost in your thoughts but you quickly noticed Stewy wasn’t back yet. This wasn’t a surprise though, your job meant you got to work more of a typical 9-5. Something you were grateful for, it seemed like life was just one, endless business meeting and opportunity for everyone involved at Waystar. 
You’d made yourself a cup of tea and were now leaning against the bench in the kitchen with it while scrolling on your phone. You had Google alerts set for all of your immediate family and Stewy, surprisingly there didn’t seem to be too much drama online today. 
“Ugh, fuck!” Stewy’s voice boomed and you heard a bang. 
“Shit, Stewy? Are you okay?” You quickly called out as you made your way over to the apartment's entryway. 
“Yeah, just tripped over your shoes again.” Stewy responded with an amused expression as he took his shoes off and moved them along with yours out of the way. 
This wasn’t the first time it had happened and Stewy knew it wouldn’t be the last. 
“I’m sorry.” You said bashfully as you walked over to hug him, pressing a soft, playful kiss to his lips. “I guess, it’s a good thing you love me.” You kissed him again, teasingly nipping on his bottom lip that was in between yours. 
“You’re such a brat baby.” Stewy smirked as his hand wrapped more firmly around your waist and he kissed you back. 
“I thought you loved that?” You teased between kisses as each one became more heated and desperate with lust. Despite Stewy often being caught or easily roped into your family drama he was the best distraction, escape and companion from everything. 
“I do.” Stewy breathed out as he continued to kiss you and was now kissing your jaw. 
“And I love you…” You whimpered out as his lips started to travel down your neck. He now had you pressed against the wall.  
“And what is it that you love exactly baby?” Stewy purred out as he nibbled around your pulse point. He was always such a tease. 
“I love your hair-” You moaned out as you dug your fingers into his soft, gorgeous curls that were always perfect. “Your voice, eyes, those goddamn turtlenecks, your smile, your colossal vocabulary-” 
“Didn’t you say it was farcical the other day?” Stewy said as he stopped kissing you and looked at you. 
“Stewy!” You whined out, you couldn’t feel his lips on you any more but you could still feel him against you but it wasn’t enough. You needed him. His gorgeous dark eyes were blown out with lust but he had his signature playful, mischievous smirk painted across his face as he cruelly teased you. “You’re such a tease.” 
“I thought you loved that.” He quipped back. You rolled your eyes and took the bait.  
“I do, I love how much of a tease you are.” He felt your breath against his neck as you spoke and then pressed a kiss against his neck, breathing him in. He always smelt so good, despite being a bit of a natural peacock it wasn’t showy, it was more subtle but strong enough. You were certain there was sandalwood in his cologne. “I also love how you feel inside of me.” You spoke as your soft lips kissed his handsome jaw, your soft lips a burning contrast against the tickle of his perfectly trimmed beard. 
“Someone’s getting laid tonight.” Stewy got out, pressing his hips against you as you continued kissing along his jaw and neck, tugging his now tousled curls. 
“That was the plan after all Mr. Hosseini.” You smirked against his neck, feeling him continue to harden against you. He let out a soft, melodic moan as you sucked softly on his neck. 
“How does now sound?” 
“Perfect.” You left his neck to kiss him on the lips, you moaned against his mouth as his teeth clashed against yours. 
One of his hands left your waist to quickly unbutton your pants. Once he’d done that, he quickly slipped a hand in, teasing you as he palmed you and then started to tease your bundle of nerves over your underwear. Your arousal had already started to dampen your underwear and it only grew with his attention. You continued to moan against him, as he gingerly traced a pattern.  
“You’re already so wet and I’ve barely touched you.” Stewy teased. “So beautiful and needy.”
Stewy smirked as he felt you press into his hand more, even with the friction of your underwear, you needed more. You wanted him then and there. You kept hungrily kissing him, feeling starved. Stewy snaked a finger under your underwear and rubbed it along your clitoris for a few seconds before dipping it inside of you making you gasp. 
“More, please Stewy.” You begged between kisses, panting as he chuckled. 
“Such a desperate girl with a needy pussy.” Stewy whispered into your ear as he added a second finger in, he picked up the pace a bit he continued to finger you and his thumb moved to rub over your clitoris a few times. His fingers were covered in your slick and you didn’t have any interest in holding back any of your moans. 
You stayed sandwiched between the wall and Stewy, just moving to press your head against his shoulder, the fabric of his blazer muffled some of your moans as he continued to finger you. You looked down and started to undo his belt and pants. 
“What do you think you're doing baby?” Stewy asked in a low voice that was just making the space in between your thighs grow into an even bigger pool of dampness, you were melting against him. 
“I want you.” You tilted your head up so it was still resting against his shoulder but you were now facing his neck more, you started to kiss his neck again, biting it softly and then licking it. “I want you to fuck me Stewy.” 
“Beg.” Stewy breathed out as he let out a little moan as your tongue darted over his pulse point. His fingers were still entering you but not as deep as before and his thumb was painfully slowly, languidly massaging your bundle of nerves. 
“Please Stewy. Fuck me, I need to feel you deep inside of me.” You nipped him softly right near his pulse point and revelled in the groan he let out at that. “Please, I’m begging you Stewy. I need you.” 
“Tell me exactly what you need.” His thumb cruelly left your clitoris for a moment making you gasp out in shock but he added a third finger inside of you, getting to that soft spot that made you melt and his thumb gently returned to your clitoris after a few seconds. 
“I uh, I-I need you. I need you inside of me now Stewy. I need to feel your cock inside of me.” You moaned out. “Nobody has ever and could ever fill me up the way you do. It feels so good, you make me feel so good. Pl-please Stewy. Please.” You mewled out and you couldn’t quite see his face but you knew it would have that beautiful arrogant smirk. 
“I’ll fuck you, baby. I just need you to come for me first, you can do that, right? I can tell your desperate little pussy is already so close.” You nodded desperately, he wasn’t wrong. You were close to unravelling, he could tell from your breathing and how you weren’t just flooding his fingers but also clamping around him. 
“I’m so close, Stew, fuck.” You moaned out, panting against his neck, it tickled him slightly. You bit your lip and moaned against his neck, he could feel the vibration of it and he loved that, that and the sound of your pleasure. You could feel it coming and gasped into his neck again as you came, Stewy could feel it and smiled as his fingering eased to a slower, gentler pace as you came down from your orgasm. 
“How was that?” He smirked as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 
“It was- it was…” You paused for a moment as your breathing started to settle, your heart was still pounding from that high though. “Good.” 
“Good? Only good?” He questioned with a tone of mock hurt.
“Just shut up and fuck me now, please Stew.” You bit his neck, just feeling even more needy for him than you did before. 
“I thought you liked my colossal vocabulary and voice?” He teased as he playfully grinded into you “I distinctly remember you saying so a few minutes ago.” 
“You’re so mean Stewy.” You giggled softly, gently pulling on the roots of his curls. 
“Was that just to get me into your pants?” Stewy paused the grinding, his tone acting as if he was hurt and that the insinuation was possibly true. 
“I guess not because that obviously didn’t work very well.” You responded, leaning back against the wall. He raised an eyebrow at you and then looked down at his belt. You rolled your eyes playfully and started to undo his belt, palming him. He was completely hard but you already knew this from when he’d been grinding into you. 
“Bedroom baby.” Stewy moaned out as you pulled his hard cock out and rubbed it with one hand. 
“You can fuck me here, you’ve done it before.” You pouted and he just chuckled as you kept up with your ministrations. 
“You said I was mean, so you’re not getting it here. You can wait the whole ten seconds it takes to walk to the bed. Our bed for me to have my way with you.” Stewy’s voice was low and firm but there was still that natural teasing tone there. 
You walked briskly to the bedroom that you two shared and Stewy followed and chuckled over the eagerness of your gait. As soon as you both were in the clean room, you kissed him hungrily again. He smirked and expertly unbuttoned your blouse as you pushed his blazer off. You kicked your pants and underwear off and he quickly followed suit. 
Stewy pressed you into the bed and you tugged on the turtleneck he was still wearing to bring him closer to you and then started to push it up off him. 
“Do you love my turtleneck baby?” Stewy teased as you did. 
“Absolutely love it.” You breathed out with a smirk. 
As soon as it was off and thrown to the floor, you were kissing each other again as if you couldn’t survive without the other. You were running your hands over Stewy’s back and up his neck to the luscious locks you loved as he quickly undid your bra. You were both now naked and he continued to kiss you as his hands cupped your chest. 
You moaned out as he started to caress you and pinch your nipples. His lips travelled from yours down to your jaw, your throat, he kissed your breasts and teasingly licked along your nipple for a minute as he started to rub your heat with his other hand. 
“Please Stewy.” You begged out in a desperate moan as your eyes were closed in pleasure. 
“Please, fuck you?” He again teases as he starts to line himself up at your entrance. 
“Yes, please that.” 
Stewy stopped his teasing and happily obliged after what felt like an eternity of almost edging. He pressed his head into you and you gasped as he did, gently scratching his shoulders as he did. It wasn’t long till he was bottomed out, he waited a few seconds for you to adjust before he started to slowly thrust inside of you, eliciting the most melodic moans he’d ever heard. 
“You’re so beautiful and tight, I love being inside of you baby.” Stewy cooed out as his pace quickly picked up a deeper and slightly faster rhythm. 
“You feel so good Stewy, so good inside of me.” You mewled out. 
Your words were literal music to his ears and it wasn’t long till he was grunting out as his thrusts became deeper and harder. 
It was so easy to become lost in Stewy. Especially when he was fucking you like this, having his way with you in the bed you shared. How couldn’t you be lost in him when your eyes were open he was all you could see?
His scent was dizzying as it mixed with the sweat he’d built up from snapping his hips into yours, he was all you could feel, on you and in you, his grunts, words and the filthy sounds you were making together were all you could hear. Stewy was intoxicating, overwhelming, a sensory overload in the most spectacular way. 
You were pulling on his hair as you felt him hitting that perfect soft spot deep inside of you. Your bundle of nerves was already sensitive from the teasing and your earlier orgasm and you could feel the warmth of another orgasm building. 
Stewy wasn’t clueless about this, he could feel you clenching around him especially as he reached that sensitive spot of yours and you were flooding him in your arousal. Other than the feeling of being buried deep inside of you, Stewy couldn’t think of anything sweeter than the noises of your moan and whimpers and the sounds of the squelches made of him thrusting into you and being met with your juices. 
Stewy continued to pound into you, his thrusts were faster and needier, and he was getting close himself. He pressed some sloppy kisses to your neck that warmed your insides up even more with desire and love for him. Stewy’s lips travelled back to yours and you opened your mouth inviting him in as your tongues and teeth passionately attacked each other. 
The kiss became deeper and deeper, you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist and felt him groan at that against your lips which in turn made you smirk. You two continued to kiss and he started to rub your clitoris with his thumb, you moaned into his mouth at the sweet pressure and slightly writhed under him. 
“That feels so good Stew.” You panted out as the kiss broke for a second and you both panted as he continued to thrust into you while rubbing a circular pattern on your bundle of nerves getting closer to their peak. 
“You feel so good. I love you.” He panted out between moans, as his eyes rolled back at the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him. 
“I love you too.” You moaned out, as your legs tightened slightly around him and you scratched his back. “I’m, so, so, so close.” 
“Yeah? I can feel that baby. Oh fuck, I want you to come for me, come on my cock baby.” He encouraged as he continued. Kissing along your pulse point, fully knowing that would drive you closer to your climax. 
You moaned out while scratching his back and pulling on his hair as you unravelled from your orgasm. Stewy smirked against your neck and continued to massage your sensitive bundle of nerves and thrust at the same, perfect speed as you chased your orgasm and rode out that high. 
“Thank you, baby, that was so good. I want you to come, to fill me up.” You panted out as you placed a hand to cup his cheek as his hips continued to snap back into yours. 
“Fuck, I’m pretty close.” 
You dug your nails into his back as he felt you clench around him in the most spectacular way as you orgasmed and post that. He began to chase his own high and you knew he was close as his thrusts spread up and the pace was more sporadic than rhythmic. 
After a couple more minutes of thrusts, Stewy grunted and kissed you more desperately than he had all day and finally chased his own climax and finished inside of you. Before he pulled out the kiss changed to a gentle, affectionate one and you lightly combed your hands through his hair and then ran them along his face and jaw as he kissed you like that. 
Stewy kissed your forehead softly and then pulled out to go towards the ensuite to get a washcloth to clean up the mess you had made together. He was so firm but gentle with you. 
After that, he laid in bed again on his back, you were cuddled into his side, with your head on his warm chest feeling almost half asleep. 
“What do you think of marriage now?” Stewy asked interrupting the peaceful post-sex silence. There was an air of playfulness but his voice was softer, quieter, almost sleepy. 
“Pardon?” You shifted slightly off his chest to get a better look at his face. You were certain you’d heard him correctly but you weren’t sure if maybe you’d fully given into sleep and this was gibberish or a dream. 
“We’ve talked about eloping before.” 
“Yeah, yes we have but-” 
“I wasn’t joking.” Stewy said as he gently held your chin between his index finger and his thumb. His voice was still soft but it was a bit firmer now, more serious than tired or playful. You bit your lip unsure of what to say as he continued to look into your eyes with his beautiful, diluted ones. 
“You know what that would entail Stewy. Your career-” 
“I do and-” 
“Stewy.” You rested your chin on his chest looking at him. He could see that you were tired. 
“So you don’t want to marry me right before your brother and Willa? Maybe a day or two after? Get that IUD out, then pop out a few babies. I’ll even be super fucking generous and get a vasectomy.” His tone was more teasing now and you had a feeling the humour wasn’t completely genuine but partially a cover-up of possible hurt. 
“Sweetie, I love you. Can we talk about this tomorrow? Maybe not talk about this ‘post-coitus’.” You offered him a small smile and combed your fingers through his hair, admiring the dark locks and the stunning strands of silver. 
“Yes ma’am.” Stewy nodded and kissed your forehead. You settled back into his chest and it wasn’t long until you had dozed off in his arms and on the comfortable pillow of his chest with the reassuring sound of his heartbeat. 
********
You’d been the only one of your siblings to stay for Connor’s wedding. Weddings were just business opportunities in the world of the Roys, grief couldn’t exist with the market and leadership decisions. You didn’t like how the wedding or death side of that traumatic day went down or how it was handled but unexpected deaths weren’t meant to be convenient or follow logic. 
You were now in your deceased father’s penthouse at his wake, having spent most of the morning hiding in a corner from as many eyes as possible. You’d really only spoken to Connor and Willa, your other siblings were in a sitting room being as business-focused as possible. 
It had been a little while into the Wake and you were with your siblings when Stewy and the Furnesses came in. Connor and Willa had been the easiest to talk to which wasn’t really anything new. Kendall and you occasionally made little remarks to each other and even you and Shiv exchanged some looks over other people’s comments or well, audacity.
You took Stewy’s handsome face in, he looked well-rested and fresh-eyed despite the fact that he’d been up most of the night with grieving you. He was handsomely dressed and groomed as always. You wanted to be held by him again, to leave and be curled up in a ball with him. Normally you two acted amicably when your paths crossed in the Roy world and public like this. But you were too depressed and exhausted for the usual furtive nature. 
He’d hugged and given his condolences to your sister Shiv and then she’d moved on to Sandi. You looked at Stewy and gave him a small smile, he went to give you a hug and a faux kiss on the cheek as he did for Shiv but you needed more than that, you needed him. You genuinely hugged him and pressed your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat, a firm, undeniable reminder that he was there was always comforting. You didn’t care that your siblings were nearby, it wasn’t an indecent act. 
Stewy couldn’t and wouldn’t say no to affection from you ever, let alone in your state in this context. He reciprocated the genuine hug and you held onto him for maybe a few seconds longer than you should’ve if you wanted to avoid the suspicion of your siblings. 
You pulled away despite never wanting to do and tilted your head to see that he was looking at you warmly, sympathy written all over his eyes. His hands had moved to softly rest on the sides of your arm, the touch was comforting but could easily be perceived and argued as platonic to an onlooker. He had a small, genuine smile on his face as he looked at you. 
“Hey,” he said softly. 
“Hey.” You responded back quietly. You wanted to kiss him, you were almost tempted to and then Kendall was quickly whisking Stewy away. 
You went back to your corner and eventually, you were joined by Kendall and Roman. You saw that Stewy was making his rounds of small talk and his eyes occasionally wandering, searching for you to see where you were and how you were doing. 
“Have you thought about psychoanalysing yourself?” 
“What?” You questioned exhaustedly as your mind was pulled away from stealing glances at Stewy by Roman’s words. 
“That was a bit too touchy with Ken-doll’s boyfriend.” Roman retorted. “I didn’t realise jumping on your brother’s BFF was one of the five stages of grief.” 
“Excuse me?” You now glared at him. 
“Oh, I guess it must be a new one they added in.  Are you gonna get a model named after yourself? Or are you saving the Roy model for something more fucked up?” 
“I’m not doing this Roman.” You sighed in exasperation and walked off to find a glass of wine but were quickly disturbed again. 
“Don’t worry, he doesn’t actually know about you two,” Kendall smirked as he whispered to you. 
“What the fuck Ken?” You jumped at the fright from Kendall, you were grateful that you were still empty-handed or else you’d have stained your outfit if not all of your surroundings from your brotherly jumpscare. Your reaction just made Kendall’s smirk grow. “You knew? But Stewy never told you.” 
“He didn’t. I figured out a while ago that you two were uh…” He dramatically paused for a moment as if he was thinking of the right word with a teasing smirk. “Copulating.” 
“Ken!” You elbowed him softly to try and get him to quieten down. “Why did you never say anything?” You quietly questioned. 
“Well, it was pretty fucking weird at first. He’s not the worst Harvard finance bro out there.” Kendall said with a playful expression. “He keeps you happy-adjacent right?” 
“Yeah, he does. Thank you.” You gave Kendall a tight-lipped but grateful smile. 
“You know, you don’t have to hide it anymore right?” 
You looked up at Kendall, questioning him with your eyes. You and Stewy’s relationship was complicated and you’d say it was pretty healthy despite the furtive nature, it had been that way for everyone’s personal and professional sake. Kendall’s smirk started to slowly slip as he took in your expression. 
“He’s dead.” Kendall spoke softly as you stared into each other’s eyes, he placed his hand on your arm as his face grew more serious. You eyed Kendall trying to find the right words. Sure your father had been part of it but it was a complicated situation with many pieces. 
“I could live with dad icing me out, cutting that relationship. I made peace with what that is a while ago. But-but, it’s when Roman, Shiv, and you. That’s what really hurts.” 
“That’ll be all that Roman says and well Shiv, she’ll only say anything about it behind your back.” 
“So comforting and reassuring.” You dryly said. 
“I’ll send you the invoice for Kendall Roy’s Therapy.” He teased and you both chuckled dryly at that. 
There wasn’t much else to say to that and you knew Kendall wasn’t ready to talk about the bigger problems yet so you gave your brother a tight hug that he quickly reciprocated. You stayed in each other’s arms for a few moments, it was healing and reassuring in a way. 
You then left to sit on a miraculously empty couch as Kendall went off to talk to Roman and Shiv again about company matters you didn’t want to hear about and that they wouldn’t want to discuss in front of you or Connor anyway. As you sat there, Stewy caught your eyes again and this time he finally came over. He sat next to you on the sofa but left a reasonable, person-sized gap between the two of you. 
“Kendall knows, you know.” You quietly state looking at him tiredly, the events of the last 24 hours and your lack of sleep were quickly catching up with you. 
“Well, I’m in private equity not acting baby.” You scoff at that and smile, sinking a little further into the sofa. 
“Perspicuously not in comedy either, babe.” You say with a smile that grows. You tilt your head to look at his expression, his big beautiful eyes are watching you and there’s the cocky smile plastered on his face that you’re in love with. 
“I’ve learnt it’s best to save the wit for the Roys.” He shoots back with a mischievous gleam in his eye. 
Stewy’s here and he’s being cheeky for your sake. You love that about him, his tongue isn’t biting like your siblings but his humour is a way of showing up. 
“Do you want to go on the balcony for a minute?” You questioned. “I want some fresh air.” 
“Yeah, yeah, sure.” He leaned his hand over that empty space of safety between you two to squeeze your hand for a second before you got up and he then followed you. 
He leant against the railing and watched you once you were both out on the much more, pleasantly quiet balcony. 
You laid your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around him, listening to his heart calmly beat as he pressed his chin against the top of your head and exhaled. Stewy’s thumb was tracing reassuring patterns on your arm. He hummed softly for a moment and you could feel the vibration of it on the top of your skull. 
You and Stewy both knew this was a sure way to be caught but neither of you cared in this moment and didn’t care about any of the consequences. They were manageable, they felt minor now and realistically they were. This would shift the family dynamic and having furtive hands with your lover always seemed to you to be in the best interests of Stewy’s career and the dramas between him, Kendall and Waystar. 
You were pretty okay with being out in the open with Stewy and he felt the same way. As the relationship went on, he wanted that more and more. His post-coitus conversation was serious and not a post-orgasm thought. 
“You were serious about eloping before Connor’s wedding weren’t you?” 
“Probably poor taste to say it right now but yes baby, dead serious.” 
You laughed at that and he felt it vibrate against him and it made him smile. He just wanted to bring you a bit of comfort and joy on an awful day like today. 
“I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” 
“Are you saying you want to get eloped?” 
“Well, I was thinking of leaking the story to ATN that Stewy Hosseini is so whipped by the Roys that he gets a vasectomy for one and not the one they’d expect.” You teased, laughing a bit more and he laughed as well. 
“Well, as much as I think we could find you something short to wear as an elopement dress, maybe something fun and scandalous like Sharon Tate’s since you like those old flicks. I don’t think we should leave your dad’s wake to go off and elope, might be the cultural upbringing differences but seems a little rude to me.” Stewy teased, you laughed and kissed him on the lips softly for a moment. 
“How does tomorrow sound?” 
“For an elopement?” “Yeah.” 
“Perfect.” 
581 notes · View notes
Text
Clandestine. Part Three.
It's better this way. At least, that's what you're telling yourself.
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Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x Female!Roy Reader
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 3k
Warnings - cursing. allusions to smut. angst. mention of death. quick mention of drug use.
Author's Note - it's here, you guys. part three !! thank you so much for all of the continued love on this series, it makes me so happy. there'll definitely be at least a couple more parts after this one, so don't worry!! i'm a sucker for a happy ending ;)
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Part One. Part Two. Series Masterlist.
Main Masterlist. Inbox.
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"-and I know it's a fuckin' tough challenge, but I think we can do it. We've got people on our side, and I got a call from Lawrence this morning - I'm gonna see if I can convince him. So, we definitely need you in that fuckin' meeting."
Silence.
"Are you even fucking listening to me? Hello?"
"... What?"
"I said, we need you at the Board Meeting this afternoon. Kendall made me promise I'd show up with you."
"Oh. Yeah, sure. Whatever."
Roman looks you up and down carefully, brows quirked in curiosity.
"The fuck is going on with you? You've been super weird these last couple of weeks."
That confirms your suspicions that Kendall hasn't told anyone about that day at Stewy's apartment. You were wondering if he had, nervously trying to play detective around your siblings.
"I'm just... tired. I'm fine. Don't worry about me, okay?"
Roman doesn't look convinced, but nods anyway.
"Just... you know, I, uh - I'm... I'm here. If you need me. You know that, don't you?"
You smile softly at his awful attempt at affection.
"I know, Rome. Thank you."
"Come on," he says, jumping from his chair. "We better get to that meeting early, Ken wants to talk strategy."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're sitting silently, heels kicked off, curled up in an expensive leather chair. Kendall and Roman are talking business, the complex jargon going straight over your head. You're in a world of your own, completely detached from your current reality, when you hear it.
Rome says it off hand, not thinking anything of it. You watch as Kendall flinches ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly. Your throat tightens, your heart kicks up in your chest. Then, he says it again.
His name.
Stewy.
"I know if you push him the right way, Ken, Stewy is fully on board. We got him, I know we do."
Stewy.
Stewy, Stewy, Stewy.
The word plays on repeat in your mind, like a stuck record. Kendall's eyes flick to you, as if to gauge your reaction, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction. You haven't spoke since your argument, deciding that the silent treatment was the best course of action. You know it's torture for Kendall, but you're both stubborn. Neither of you is willing to back down first.
"Uh - yeah, yeah, I, uh, I think, maybe. I think maybe he is. I don't, uh, I don't know."
Rome is oblivious to Kendall's reluctance to speak on the subject, clearly.
"Well, can you fuckin' talk to him? You know you're like the only person in Waystar he'll listen to."
Kendall's eyes are darting between you and Roman frantically. You can read him like a book.
"Yeah, I'll, uh, sure. I'll talk to him."
You scoff under your breath, but he hears it.
"You got something to fuckin' say, Princess? Huh?"
Princess. You haven't heard that one in a while. Your childhood nickname. It started off as a sweet endearment, but now, it's thrown in your face when the boys want to get under your skin.
"Fuck you, Kendall," you bite.
"Uh... Did I miss something?"
"Fuck off, Roman," you and Ken say simultaneously.
Any other day, you'd laugh about saying the same thing at the same time. You'd joke about how in sync you are, how you share one brain. Now, it just makes you infinitely sadder.
You're about to make another sarcastic remark when Sandi and Sandy enter the room, cutting the moment short. You're not sure if you're grateful or spiteful.
One by one, the Waystar Board members file in, taking their seats at the table. You're holding your breath, sitting at the edge of your chair, waiting for the inevitable. You can predict it now, the way you're going to feel when he walks in - chest tight, lungs knotted, fists clenched.
Stewy walks in, and the opposite happens.
You exhale your held breath, and relax slightly. The tension leaves your shoulders for a moment, your lip gets released from in between your teeth. It's like seeing him has cured you, even temporarily. As if he's your own brand of medicine, your personalised prescription.
His eyes catch yours, and you have a silent conversation. So much is said in such a short time.
Hi. Hi. Are you okay? No, are you? No. Not at all.
The room is oblivious to this emotional exchange - except for your older brother. Kendall watches your every move like a hawk. He's trying to figure out if the two of you are still together, still sneaking around behind his back. You haven't spoken to him since he stormed out of Stewy's apartment, meaning he has no idea about the events that occurred after his departure.
The meeting goes off as usual, full of tension and sniped remarks. You don't listen to a word anyone says, too focused on keeping your attention away from Stewy across the table. You're determined not to look at him. You know that if you do, he'll see right through you. He'll know how you really feel. And that is something you're not at all prepared for.
"Okay, well, if no one else has anything they'd like to cover, I think we're done here. Meeting adjourned."
Everyone rises from their places, shaking hands and having quick discussions before leaving through the tall glass doors. You stay put, in no rush to exit. Kendall approaches Stewy, and you watch the exchange with a clenched jaw.
"Hey, uh... can we, like, talk, maybe? I think, yeah, I think we should talk."
Stewy takes a long, hard look at Kendall, before chuckling humourlessly.
"I've got nothing to say to you, man."
Your brother stays stuck in his place, staring at the floor beneath him. As Stewy leaves, he can't resist running his fingers across your shoulders gently. You look back at him, but he's already gone.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Home doesn't feel like home anymore.
Everywhere you look, you're reminded of Stewy.
You're in the kitchen, and all you can think about is the time the two of you slow danced in the middle of the night, slipping and sliding on the tiled floor. There's a half finished bottle of wine on the counter, abandoned in favour of gliding around the room in your socks. Stewy clicks on some low, jazzy music, and pulls you into his arms. You feel like you finally belong somewhere.
You're in the bathroom, and you can't stop thinking about when the two of you took a bubble bath together, lavender scented steam filling the air. Your back is pressed to Stewy's chest, sitting in between his legs as he massages the shampoo into your hair. He's humming softly, a song his Mother used to sing when he was a child. There's not an ounce of tension in either of your bodies. You feel like you finally belong somewhere.
You're in the living room, and you can't avoid the memories of curling up with Stewy on the couch. He always lets you pick the movie - sarcastically rolling his eyes at your choices, but never protesting. You sit there for hours, bodies tangled together like two pieces of the same puzzle. You feel like you finally belong somewhere.
You're in the bedroom, and you can't stop picturing the way that Stewy would take you apart and put you back together again. Before him, all of the sex you had was quick, transactional, impersonal. But it was different with Stewy. With Stewy, it felt like you had all the time in the world. It was tender, loving, connected. He genuinely cared about your pleasure - learning your body inch by inch, memorising it like a sculptor. You allowed yourself, for the first time ever, to let go. You put your soul in his hands with full faith. Lying there, limbs intertwined beneath the soft sheets, there was no doubt in your mind. You belonged somewhere.
And now that safe place is gone.
Home doesn't feel like home anymore, and it's all because of him. You could move at the drop of a hat, find a new apartment tomorrow if you wanted. But you can't. You can't leave all of these memories behind. As painful as they are, they're all you have.
You turn on the TV, and flick to ATN News. They're running a story on a young baseball player that tragically died in a car wreck, aged twenty four. You sit and watch the whole segment, unable to tear your eyes away from the screen. When it ends, you turn it off, and sit in silence.
You sit there for hours, in the quiet, just thinking. About everything. The number twenty four keeps circling around in your head.
He was twenty four. Twenty four years old. He hadn't even got to live properly. Life is so short. Life is so unpredictable. God, anything could happen tomorrow. Twenty four. Twenty four. Twenty four.
You glance towards the clock on the wall, which reads 10:24. It feels like a sign.
All of a sudden, you're sick of waiting. Sick of being told how to live your life. Sick of trying to conform to these ideals that people are placing on you. Fuck them. Life's too short. You have to start living for you.
You're pulling on your shoes and grabbing your keys before you can even process it. You call the number for a car, but no one answers. Fuck it, you'll run across New York City if you have to. If it means you get to hold the man you love in your arms again.
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Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
The knocking on the door is so loud, Stewy's half convinced he's about to be murdered. He swings open the heavy oak to be met with the sight of you, looking like you just ran a marathon.
You stand still for a moment, staring at each other, as if you can't believe what you're seeing. You're here, in each others vicinity again. It'd be so easy to reach out and touch him.
So, you do.
You barrel into Stewy, jumping into his arms, throwing yours around his neck. He catches you easily, holding onto you as tight as he possibly can. You wrap your legs around his waist and press yourself even closer, as if to merge both of your bodies into one being.
You breathe him in, and it's the first time you've taken a full breath in weeks. He smells the same as he always did, musky and woody and expensive and yours. He still smells like he's yours.
You don't realise you're crying until you pull away from him slightly, and see the wet spot on his t shirt. He puts you down and closes the door, locking it behind you. He grabs your hand and leads you into the kitchen, parting from you to pour two glasses of wine.
You jump up onto the counter and part your legs, Stewy coming to stand between them instinctively. He places a hand on each of your thighs, warmth seeping through his palms. You're face to face, unsure where to start.
"Baby," he breathes. "What are you doing here?"
He sounds unsure, almost scared. If only you knew how frantically his heart is beating in his chest.
"Life is too short," you reply quickly. "Way too short. I could literally die tomorrow."
Stewy looks at you carefully, brow quirked in confusion.
"Honey, are you on drugs? Because they're really not good for you, you know."
"Says the man who did coke off my ass last month," you tease defiantly.
He fights back a smile, but it curls at the corner of his mouth. You grin at him, hands moving to play with the hair at the back of his neck.
"I'm not on drugs," you reassure. "I was just watching the news, and it kinda put everything into perspective. Life is so short and so fragile. Why am I wasting mine trying to appease my family, who'll never be happy, no matter what I do?"
He smiles at you softly, nodding as you continue.
"I just - my whole life, my brothers have just done whatever the fuck they wanted. Especially Kendall. But I make a choice for me, and all of a sudden I'm the villain? How is that fair?"
"It isn't," he agrees, squeezing your thighs in reassurance. "They're all hypocrites. Do you know how many stupid decisions I've watched Kendall make over the years? They think they know everything, but they don't."
"I mean, look at them. Roman is incapable of affection, Kendall's ex wife hates him, and Connor practically bought Willa. My Dad's on his second wife, not including the countless mistresses he's had. None of them know anything about love. They don't know a thing."
"I think you're the only person in your family capable of love," he chuckles.
"I'm starting to think you might be right," you laugh.
You lean forward and press your forehead to Stewy's, exhaling the tension from your shoulders.
"I'm really sorry," you whisper. "For everything. I treated you horribly, and none of it was your fault."
"It wasn't your fault, either. You know that, right?"
"I don't know. It's so hard to get a view on things when they're happening. But when I took a step back, it gave me a clearer look. And it made me realise something."
"And what's that?" he murmurs.
"I realised that I cannot live a day without you, Stewy Hosseini. I don't want to."
"Thank God," he breathes in a laugh. "I've been going fucking crazy here without you."
You beam a grin at him, so bright it's a wonder that the lights don't shatter.
"I love you, and I won't apologise for it," you confess. "Whatever the consequences are, I'll accept them. Nothing can touch me when I'm loved by you. You're like my own personal armour."
"Man, we're the worst," he laughs. "We could love anyone in the world, and we just had to choose each other."
"I'm gonna choose you everyday, I'm afraid," you tease. "There's no going back now."
"I wouldn't want to," he murmurs. "I don't want to go back."
"Me neither," you whisper against his mouth.
Stewy leans forward and captures your lips with his, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You get completely lost in each other, revelling in the feeling of being back together. You feel like you can finally breathe again. The other half of your heart has returned.
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The two of you are tangled among the sheets, limbs intertwined and hands linked. You run your fingertips in mindless patterns over his chest, the sprinkling of hair tickling you, making you smile gently. Stewy's playing with your hair, soothing you softly. His heartbeat is lulling you into tranquility, relaxing you completely. This is paradise, you're convinced. Paradise.
"It can be like this forever, you know," he murmurs into the top of your head, kissing you tenderly.
"I know," you reassure. "And it will be."
Stewy can't stop thinking about the diamond ring still sitting in his nightstand. After your fight, he thought he'd never get to see you wear it. But now he knows he will. And that makes his heart flutter uncontrollably in his ribcage, like technicolour butterflies trying to escape him.
He pulls you impossibly closer, trying to breathe you in. He never wants to let you go. You don't want him to.
"We should tell them," you say suddenly. "Fuck the consequences."
"Are you sure, honey?"
You sit up in bed, looking at him carefully. His hair is mussed, shoulders relaxed, lip bitten between his teeth. He's never looked more beautiful.
"I'm sure. I wasn't, before. I think that's why I tried to push you away - I was trying to force myself into doing something I wasn't ready for. But almost losing you has made me realise that you're it for me, Stewy. You are my first and only choice. You are the only thing I'm sure of."
Stewy's chest swells with emotion, throat tightening, eyes welling. He's determined not to cry, but fuck, he's close.
"Do you know how many times I've dreamt of you saying those words to me?" he chokes out. "I love you. Fuck, I love you so much it makes me ache."
"I love you," you whisper back, cradling his face in your gentle hands. "I love you. I'm never letting you go again. Not ever."
You kiss him softly, basking in the feeling of his lips on yours. You get lost in each other once again, both of you in disbelief at being back in each others arms.
"Let's tell them," you whisper against his mouth. "Fuck the consequences."
"Fuck the consequences," he grins. "It's you and me, baby. You and me against the world."
You feel as if you're floating, levitating, powered by the sheer force of your love. Nothing can touch you. You're invincible, when you're in Stewy's arms.
He knows this is it. This is the moment. He makes his decision, and reaches his arm out to open the top drawer of this nightstand. His pulse quickens, body practically vibrating with anticipation. As he pulls it open, your phone rings, the shrill tone piercing through your peace.
You go to decline it, but notice that it's Connor's name lighting up your screen. There's a weird feeling in your stomach, suddenly.
"Hello?"
"Hi, sweetheart. It's Connor. Where are you?"
You cast a glance towards Stewy, and he shakes his head softly, silently communicating. Not yet. We'll tell him in person.
"I'm at a friend's place. What's up?"
"I, uh, I don't... I don't really know how to, um... you need to come to Dad's apartment, ASAP."
"Wait, what? Why?"
There are a million scenarios swirling around in your head, clouding your mind, overwhelming you.
"He's, uh.. I just, um, I don't-"
"Spit it out, Con."
A pause. He takes a deep breath.
"Dad's dead."
Silence.
Your heart breaks. Stewy hears it happen.
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Stewy Tag List
@justacaliforniandreamer @616wilsons @shawty-writes-a-little @isuspectitwasthenargles @thinemineours @buckysbae @jolie989 @allcheesemelts
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nicolettemarionette · 8 months
Text
Business with Pleasure (PART 2)
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Pairing: Kendall Roy x Reader x Stewy Hosseini  Description: Kendall takes up his old pal's offer to share his lover. (Part 1) Word count: 2.5K-ish Rating: SMUT (more under the cut) 
Warnings: Cursing, smut, age-gap, exhibition, teasing, M/M/F threesome, oral (M and F receiving - Kendall Roy eats pussy like a champ), deepthroat PIV, protected sex
A/N: Sorry for the wait, but I would say it's worth it! Enjoy ;) 
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"Come on, it'll be just like old times."
Kendall tilts his head, looking past his friend to search your face for a moment, wondering if you're lust drunk or just fucking wasted. Then, he decides he doesn't really care. "Fuck it, yeah."
"Atta boy, sit down," Stewy claps his hands together, then scoffs at Kendall, who's chosen to sit about a foot away from you, hands glued to his suit pants. "You want anything...something to drink?"
The CEO hesitates, tempted, then shakes his head, "Uh no, I'm...I'm good."
"You sure? Cos you look a little tense." His voice is teasing, his hand moving to rest against your waist, "Don't you think, sweetheart?"
You hum in agreement, more than excited on how this is going to play out. Stewy's little smirk has your heart flipping, "Why don't you go...help Ken relax a bit?"
"Okay."
You crawl over to him, settling between his legs and looking up at him through your lashes. Your hands find their way to his thighs, a ditzy smile slipping onto your lips at the way his muscles tense under your touch. 
Kendall falters, "You...you're going to uh..?"
Stewy answers him before you can, "She's gonna suck your dick. Do you need me to hold your hand, bro?"
"Uhh no, fuck off," Kendall brushes off the sarcasm, adam's apple bobbing as your fingers move towards his zipper.
Stewy laughs, holding his hands up, "Okay, just thought I'd offer."
Kendall's hips lift as you tug his briefs down, his cock bouncing against his taught skin. You maintain eye contact with him, wrapping your hand around his girth, stroking him slowly. He groans, head dropping back, spreading his thighs further apart to give you more room.
You press your tongue flat against the underside of his length and the moan that falls from his lips has you clenching around nothing. Who knew Kendall Roy was so sensitive? 
With a confidence that's probably inspired by the amount of alcohol in your system, you take him deeper into your mouth, feeling his cock twitch at the sensation. Kendall groans, half-lidded eyes fluttering as he watches his length continue to disappear past your lips slowly, "Fuck, you're good at this."
His praise has you whimpering around him, sending vibrations through his cock. Your cheeks hallow as you speed up, taking him further each time until the head of his cock nudges the back of your throat. 
The action has him clenching his fists, resisting the urge to buck his hips up and force you further down on his cock. Instead, he chokes out, "Oh...fuck, take it. Good fucking girl."
Again, your body heats at his words and Stewy smirks knowingly, palming himself at the way your thighs rub together incessantly. He decides to speak up again, "Pull her hair; she goes fucking crazy for it."
"Uh...really?" Kendall looks to his friend for confirmation, but the brunette merely offers a sly grin.
Taking that as his green light, Kendall's hand finds its way into your hair, tugging slightly then harder when you moan. He uses his grip to guide you back down, helping you move against him. 
You keep one hand on his thigh, steadying yourself and use the other to play with his balls. Just as his hips begin to stutter, Stewy clears his throat, "Alright, let's not blow your load before you get to dessert."
Kendall's reluctant to release his hold in your hair, but does as he's told. You get to your feet shakily, accepting a hand for support. You're not expecting the CEO to cup your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. Still, you reciprocate it eagerly, opening your mouth and letting his tongue slip in, the taste of him mingling with saliva.
"Come here," you break away at Stewy's voice, turning to face your lover with a bashful smile, which he returns warmly. The top buttons of his shirt are undone, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his toned forearms, a sight that always has you biting your lip. His hand slowly slides up the material of your dress, "You know, I hate this fucking dress."
Your brows furrow, voice a pitch higher, "I thought you liked it."
"I did," he starts, then pinches at the seam between his fingers, "but now...I hate it." In one swift movement, the fabric's torn, falling to the ground in a pool around your legs. You're left standing in only your panties, exposed nipples hardening under the attention.
The sound of ripping silk is loud but the two men still hear your gasp, Stewy letting out a laugh at your reaction while Kendall's at least nice enough to bite back his amusement. "Stewy!" You narrow your eyes at the former, "That was vintage Chanel."
There's not a hint of remorse as he cups your breasts, but as his thumbs brush against your nipples, your back arches and you can feel your resolve crumbling, something he notes. His voice is mocking as he turns to his friend, continuing his teasing touch, "You hear that, Kendall? That was Chanel!"
"Vintage Chanel," the taller man corrects, eyes crinkling playfully. He steps closer until you're sandwiched between them, then he nods assuredly, "Yeah, he'll buy you another one."
Stewy caresses your skin, "That's fucking right, I always do." He lifts your chin, kissing you sweetly and you melt into him, sighing contentedly. You'd come to appreciate the finer things in life; being pressed against two of the most powerful men in the city coupled with the promise of a shopping spree has you weak in the knees.
"You good, man?" Stewy quips, once he's broken from your lips.
Kendall's hands tentatively find your waist, thumbs tracing over the dips in the soft skin, "Yeah, fuck yeah. Just uh...enjoying the view."
"Like what you see?" He spins you so that you're facing Kendall, who's lowering his head to drink you in. Stewy moves your hair to your shoulder and licks a stripe up your neck, making you whine in need.
Kendall makes a noise of affirmation, then, "Fuck! Can...can I uh...?" His voice breaks, and fuck it drives you crazy - having someone with so much power sound so desperate for you. You're unsure of what he means to do, but one look over your shoulder at how Stewy's eyes darken has you shivering in anticipation.
"You wanna eat her out? Go ahead."
That's all it takes for him to drop to his knees before you, your eyes widening at the action. He presses hot kisses to your inner thighs, sending waves of pleasure through your body. His hands trail your skin before meeting lace. Instead of pulling your panties down, he presses his lips to your stomach, then those brown eyes look up into yours, searching for your approval, "Is that...is that okay?"
"Yes," your voice is heavy, your breaths coming too fast. It's all so much and not enough; you run your fingers through his short hair to encourage him to carry on. 
It seems to work as he pulls the flimsy lace down, lifting your legs gently to get them over your feet. But it seems he needs more, taking a deep breath that makes you shudder, "You want me to touch you?"
You nod fervently, groaning when you hear Stewy tut behind you, "Use your words, sweetheart."
"Want you, please Ken," you struggle to get the words out, hips already chasing his touch.
He rewards you by moving his hands around your hips until they rest on your ass, surely brushing against Stewy's bulge, directing rhetoric toward his pal, "How can I say no to that?"
But before you have a chance to ponder how close the pair really are, his tongue has you bucking your hips, a shaky breath leaving your lips.
Kendall's no slouch at eating pussy - he's always strived to be the best at everything he does and this is no different. He'd gotten plenty of practice, with girls in college throwing themselves at him with the mere mention of his legacy name. And who was he to deny them the pleasure of said name?
He spreads open your pussy lips with his fingers before moving his tongue to trace a wet 'K' over your clit. He licks the letter again, his pretty eyes watching your face as you writhe and contort with blinding pleasure. 'L' has you tugging at his dark hair, back arching against Stewy, who's supporting your frame with a comforting grip on your shoulders. His 'R' is quick and messy and he's practically lapping your pussy at this point, feeling more than cocky as you cry out, grip tightening on him.
"Oh fuck!" 
Stewy places a chaste kiss to your skin, then mutters into your ear. "You like that?"
"Yes! So good," the shrieks are barely understandable and if Kendall's face wasn't buried between your thighs, he'd smirk.
The man behind you hums, "Better than me?"
Kendall seems to take this as a challenge, lips fastening over your clit, thick fingers slipping embarrassingly easily into your pussy and curling up towards your navel. His free hand settles on your lower stomach, pressing slightly so that you can feel the coil of pleasure tighten.
You all but scream, spasming around his fingers. The pleasure is searing and apparent, Kendall feels you shudder against his tongue, groaning. He slows his pace, softly licking through your orgasm until you push his head away, panting heavily.
He gets to his feet, face coated in your arousal, self-satisfied grin on his face, "You didn't uh, answer the question."
It takes a moment for you to process his words, and you stutter, "I-I-"
"She wants me to fuck her so bad she can't even talk," Kendall teases, shrugging to Stewy cheekily.
Stewy doesn't bat an eyelid, matching his smile with vigour, "Well then, better give her what she wants."
"You got a-"
He's thrown a condom before he can finish, Stewy having fished it out of his pocket while he was watching you get eaten out by his best friend. You clutch onto Stewy's arm, pulling him to kiss you. He reciprocates immediately, it's soft and completely not indicative of what's to come. 
Stewy pushes you gently, and you stumble against the couch while he stands in front of you. You look up at him, eyes wide. 
"You're a fucking mess, sweetheart," the words are harsh but uttered adoringly, his finger pushing past your swollen lips. You suck on it instinctively and he lets out a low groan, "And I love it. Now, do you want Ken to fuck you?"
You nod enthusiastically, not bothering to remove your lips to answer verbally, something he playfully rolls his eyes at, "Good. Then I want you to open up for me."
Stewy unbuckles his belt lazily and props one knee up on the couch across from you, his other boot firmly planted on the floor. You roll onto your stomach, crawling over to him, aware of Kendall's presence behind you. Bare skin presses against yours and you're aware that he must've discarded his shirt somewhere, your imagination running wild. 
You fumble with Stewy's boxers for a second before freeing his cock. His fingers wind into your hair, stroking the soft strands appreciatively. You press your lips to the head of his cock, kitten licks teasing the head of it while Stewy hisses in a breath, "Don't be a fucking tease."
His hold in your hair tightens in response, groaning when you finally take him in your mouth. Unlike Ken, Stewy's eyes remain fixated on his favourite sight - you look so beautiful like this, eyes watery, cheeks hollowed, lips red and swollen. You always struggle to swallow down his cock and he smirks, bucking his hips up a bit, just to fuck with you. You gag slightly, saliva mixed with his precum drooling from your lips.
"Are you just going to stand there?" His voice is strained as he addresses Kendall, who mutters a 'no'.
One hand grips the flesh of your hips, the other guiding his cock as he drags it through your folds, collecting your wetness. You whine around Stewy's cock when Kendall's grazes your clit, his hold on your hair not letting you pull away. Then, he lines himself up, pushing slowly into you.
"Fuckkkk, is this okay?" Kendall asks, swallowing thickly at the sight of your pussy stretching to accommodate him.
You moan something around Stewy's dick in affirmation that's barely intelligible and Kendall can't help the soft laugh that falls from his lips. Though it quickly turns into a raspy groan when Stewy ruts into your mouth, sending you towards him, your hips almost flush with his, the head of his cock pressing almost painfully into your cervix. You spasm around him and he hisses, you're full, so fucking full.
You brace one of your hands on Stewy's thigh, the other one at the base of his cock, and relax your throat as he starts to fuck your mouth deeper, hitting the back of your throat each time. He realises Kendall's watching his cock push in and out of you with a dazed expression, like he's still in awe of the situation. Stewy's smirk returns in full force, "How is it?"
"Fuck! So fucking tight," is all he manages to bite out, now using his grip on your hips to thrust into you at a steady pace. You feel a familiar heat pooling in your stomach, and grind harder into him, desperately.
"You like this?" Stewy pats your cheek lightly to get your attention and your eyes jerk up to meet his, tears falling now, "Sucking my dick while you're fucking my best friend?"
Fuck. His words are hot, teasing, and enough to push you over the edge, clenching around Kendall in a way that has his own hips stuttering, his fingers digging into your skin harshly.
Stewy lets out a low groan, body tensing, "Gonna come all over this pretty little face." 
He pulls his cock from your lips, hand closing around it in place of your mouth. His hips jerk up and creamy ropes shoot from his cock, hot against your skin. The noise you make in response coupled with how your pussy is gripping Kendall like a fucking vice is enough to shatter the last of his self control and he pins you mercilessly to his hips as he comes.
When he finally removes himself, you all but collapse into Stewy's waiting arms, chest heaving. Your lover looks down at you, a soft smile on his lips when you open your eyes and look at him.
"You good?" he asks quietly, and you respond with a barely audible 'yeah'. 
You smile up at him, eyes hooded and hair a mess, voice clearer this time when you conclude, "That was fun."
Stewie chuckles, winking at Kendall who's politely handing you bottled water, "Agreed, we'll have to do it again sometime."
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A/N: This took forever to write but I'm quite happy with the way it turned out, and I hope you are too. Again, any feedback is much appreciated. I've also tagged anybody who asked for a part 2 on this, hope that's okayyy
Taglist:
@mystical-apollo, @foreverasleep717, @maraschinodreamo, @justlikehoneyxo, @jinxedthejinx, @jolie989
134 notes · View notes
bleggmoe-blog · 7 months
Text
CYCLE - succession fanfic
stewy hosseini x roy!female!reader
authors note: Guess I was tired of not having enough succession content. SO I decided on creating a fanfic of my own. LMAO. I’ve been jotting down ideas, trying to configure a original idea of my own. Trying to go for enemy to lovers type of ordeal? We will see! I hope you all enjoy it!
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It had been an entire year since Maeve had seen her family. Aftering signing a modeling contract with Versace a few years ago, she had been working non-stop. Spending majority of holidays and birthday's with her friends. But due to some unfortunate circumstances, Maeve's  modeling career has been put into a sudden halt.
Flashing lights and screaming was heard while being escorted out of the airport. Despite her hooded disguise, fans and paparazzi swarmed around her like a swarm of sardines. Thankfully Trevor, her bodyguard managed to safely lead her toward the correct getaway vehicle. Despite the tinted windows and the safety of the car, her head remained low. Curling into her lap until the driver drove out of the vicinity.
"Miss. Roy? It's safe now."
"Miss Roy?"
"Y-yes—Thank you."  She croaks out toward her driver, peering at him through her luxurious sunglasses. But despite the frames resting upon her face, it could not mask her panic. Her face contorted, as her heartbeat thumped throughout  her eardrums.
Her driver carefully switched his attention from the road to the mirror. Watching the youngest Roy in concern as her clammy palm placed itself in the middle of her tightening chest. "Do you want me to drive you toward the nearest hospital?"
"NO ! No, thank you. I'm fine."
"The same route, then?"
"Yes."
Due to traffic and paparazzi, she was currently  late to her fathers birthday dinner. Although, she didn't entirely mind as it gave her time to recoup.
With a quick shut of the drivers window, Maeve did a complete wardrobe change. Changing from her hobo disguise into her signature old money wardrobe. A pair of suit pants, and her favorite emerald green sweater. Amidst buckling her belt, the driver announces her destination is nearing in a few moments. This allowed her to tie her long locks into a ponytail, apply last minute mascara. "Oh shit." She says out loud, in remembrance. Her hands quickly scavenging for anxiety medication.
As the car comes to a halt, Trevor is quick to pull open the doors. "Marcia called." He informs, arm out for needed assistance. "Of course, she did." She sighs out, smiling as she grabs ahold of his arm. "Thanks, Kev!" Maeve hollers to her driver, who waves before quickly shutting the automatic doors.
In NewYork Fashion, Honking and shouting is heard from the traffic behind. Which causes Trevor to hurriedly escort her aside, helping her onto the sidewalk, before escorting her safely  into her fathers residence. "She's waiting by the door for your arrival." Trevor informs, once they pass the doorman. "... And I can take this back to your apartment." He offers, grabbing ahold of her  duffel bag.
"You're amazing." She tells him, before kissing his cheek. Her phone vibrates through her pants, pulling her attention. "I've got to go—But, I'll send your paycheck in a few days." She tells him, nearing the ajar elevator doors while glancing down at her phone.
From: Kendall
Are you still coming?
She rolls her eyes. Immediately texting him back a response. As the elevator come to a close, she's welcomed with a few moments of silence.
Wait—
"Fuck!" She shouts out loud, once realizing she had forgotten about taking her anxiety medication. "Oh, fuck me..." She groans, eyes squinting in disbelief.
A pleasant dinging noise sounds off, halting her state of panic. Maeve freezes as the doors glide open revealing Marcia on the other side. "Maeve! Finally, you're here." She exclaims happily.
"GAH—I know, Im sorry! There was traffic..." Maeve quickly recovers herself, stepping out of the elevator to engulf the older woman into her arms. "That's NewYork for you." Marcia lightheartedly jokes, kissing her cheek.
"You look beautiful as always." Marcia compliments as they pull apart, hands still latched onto her own.
Maeve always liked Marcia, despite Shiv's own opinion. Finding the woman's touch warmer than her  mothers. One she wasn't afraid of. Sometimes Maeve wondered if that was the reasoning behind Shiv's discomfort. That a cold touch felt more familiar than a warm one.
"Vi? I didn't expect you to show." Suddenly Shiv's voice appears, causing the two to turn their heads in direction. She wore simple outfit, sweater and jeans. Very casual, unlike herself.
"Neither did I." Maeve responds, forcing a smile her sisters way. The three women all walked closer, stopping in close distance. There still remained some tension from before. As the sisters last conversation was far from a happy one.
"How've you been?" Shiv asks, almost as if she was forced. Her eyes held some sort of skepticism. All while her lips curled ever so slightly. It was obvious that Shiv found the question amusing. Considering the prior events that occurred for Maeve only a few days ago.
"Uh, hanging in there..." Maeve awkwardly trails out, her fingers now fumbling in front of her.
"You?" She quickly added, trying to remain respectful. Suddenly Tom walks behind her large smile, catching her attention.
Maeve always had assumed Shiv liked the bad boys. The rough & tough type. Motorcyclist. Actor. An international playboy, even. So when Shiv brought home, Tom Wambsgans... Well, It took everyone off guard. Like his last name, for instance—Maeve found him to be odd. Perhaps a little 'out there'. But she didn't hate the guy. Tom is a nervous wreck. But found him genuinely sweet. Because despite the years of the two being together, he still looked at Shiv with stars in his eyes. It was enduring. Something that her sister definitely looked over at times.
"Maeve! Hello!" He loudly exclaims, Interrupting Shiv from answering her sister question.
"Tom, Hey—How's it going?" Maeve asks, smiling at the annoyed expression of her sister.
"Great! Great!" His smile still remaining wide, beaming throughout the room. "Still kicking it with your sister. So it's all good. Life couldn't get any richer!" He laughs out, causing everyone to awkwardly follow along.
"Blink three times if you need help." Maeve whispers, jokingly. Which caused Tom to laugh a little too hard, earning an side eye from her sister. Maeve tended to avoid any conversations with Wambsgans. Finding that he not only spiked her anxiety, but found it created some turbulence within his own relationship. Due to Shiv's own fears & insecurities.
There was a moment of awkward silence. Which was luckily filled by Kendall's kids. Who ran past the group chasing one another in laughter.
"Hey, hey! No running!" Rava exclaims, quickly following the two. Upon meeting eye contact, the two exchange friendly smile.
"Vi! Oh my god, hey!" She exclaims, expressing a genuine smile. Out of everyone in this family, Maeve enjoyed Rava's company the most. She was kind, smart, and a great mother. Perhaps the only person Maeve trusted out of everyone in this penthouse. It was unfortunate that Kendall fumbled the marriage.
After exchanging hugs, Maeve looks around with furrowed brows. "Where's Ken?" She asks, to which she points toward the close off dining room. Loud giggling and stomps were heard upstairs, causing her to retract her attention.
"Sophie! Iverson! Sorry." She shouts, before quickly apologizing toward the group before following the mischievous children.
A random guy in a wind breaker walks into her peripheral. "M-Maeve, Hey! L-Long time no see!" He exclaims happily, engulfing her into a hug.
"O-Oh." She murmurs, awkwardly tensing at the strangers touch. She turns, eyeing Tom & Shiv in a state of panic.
He pulls away smiling, immediately taking notice of her confusion. "It's Greg." He laughs out, as if it were to ring any bells.
It hadn't.
"Our cousin." Shiv adds, finally deciding in helping her little sister.
"Oh—Oh my god. Hey!" Maeve stutters out in remembrance. Immediately hugging him again, this time more welcoming. "Yeah, I'm sorry—I barely recognized you. What's it been? 10 years?"
"Eight—But uh, who's counting?" He says, awkwardly laughing.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Greg—Get ahold of yourself. Stop gawking at her tits. It's my dad fucking birthday man." Roman announces, walking into the conversation.
"W-Wha—"Greg stutters out, eyes building out of his head.
"W-W-what? We all know you want to fuck her." He mocks their obnoxiously tall cousin, before rolling his eyes.
"She's my cousin, dude." Greg tell him, his tone screeching slightly.
"Cousins." Roman scoffs. "So what? I mean, come on. Half of America is fucking their cousins."
"You're disgusting." Shiv spat.
"Look, Maeve may not ever run the company. But dad will definitely make sure her award-winning tits will make Waystar cover-magazine." He comments, earning everyone in the group to look at him in disgust. After a few seconds of silence, he has the audacity to look confused.
"What? Oh, Come on! You know her tits recruit more employees into Waystar than any other commercial sponsor..."
"Birdie?" Their fathers voice appears, causing everyone to turn their attention elsewhere.
"Dad—Hey." She smiles, walking forward arms outward.
"You don't look a day over forty." She jokes before going in a hug despite his annoyed features. "Fuck off." He murmurs, pulling away with some sort of a smile.
"Hows... uh—business?" He asks awkwardly. Which only resulted in a stifled a laugh from her youngest brother. Maeve decides to ignore it.
"Uh good... Just glad to be able to finally relax & see everyone again."
"Your contract over?" He asks, taking Maeve off guard. It hadn't been discussed, but her manager hinted at the possibility of it occurring. "Y-Yeah... Hopefully I'm off to bigger and better things." She comments, trying to smile through the awkward silence.
"Oh. I brought you something." She trails out, immediately handing over the small bag in her hands.
"Ooo, is it underwear?" Roman jokes from behind, smirkingly. "You wish." She fires back in irritation as dad opens it, revealing the gift.
A snow globe with their family portrait inside.
"Wow, that's adorable. No wonder she took so long. She dropped by BrightStar on the way here." Roman sarcastically comments, earning a giggle from Shiv. Which suddenly strikes a cord in Maeve.
"Where's your gift, guys?" She asks, not missing a beat. "Right here." Roman says motioning to himself, amidst leaning on the couch. Maeve couldn't help but roll her eyes. She did not expecting anything less... Which is why, she hadn't bothered to question her sister. Knowing she'd have a similar sarcastic answer.
"Thanks, Birdy—It'll go on my desk." Her father says with a tight knit smile, before turning to it over to Marcia. "Now, where's Kendall?" He asks before waking off.
"There she is!" Connor shouts in excitement, causing Shiv to roll her eyes. "Who's birthday is it, again?" She sarcastically asks her boyfriend above a whisper.
"Conner." Maeve softly calls out, running into his arms. "Look at you!" He exclaims, lifting her up into the air as if she were still a child.
"Look the outcasts have finally been reunited." Roman comments, earning a smirk from Shiv.
"Hey. How've you been?" He asks, hand laying upon his sister shoulder. "I'm real sorry about the whole—"
"It's fine." She interludes, shaking her head as a way to dismiss the topic. But Connor continues, eyes full of pity.
"No, really. It must be embarrassing." Connor adds, earning laughter from their siblings. "Hey, guys. That's not cool." Connor says, eyeing them in scold-like fashion.
"Con, I'm—let's not talk about it. Yeah?" She points out, eyeing him tiredly. "Yeah, Vi." He rubs her shoulder again, in hopes to comfort her.
"Okay, everyone! Let's get a move out!" Their father announces, nearing the elevator doors. Maeve eyebrows furrow, turning toward her eldest sibling.
"Where we headed?"
"To the game."
Upon exiting her fathers estate, they were escorted into one of the many tinted vehicles.
Since Maeve wanted to avoid being coup up with Shiv, she squishes herself into the already full vehicle. "There's no room." Kendall tells her, but she ignores him. "I'll make room." She insists, crawling over her brother.
"That doesn't seem very safe." Rava whispers over to her sister in law, who somehow seats herself in between the two. "It's fine—see?" She says, flashing a smile toward her niece and nephew.
"Yeah. Until we get in a car accident, and you go flying through the front window." Roman comments, earning a concerned look from Iverson. "Seriously?" Rava asks, immediately scolding Roman. "That's not going to happen." She tells her children, reassuringly.
"Whatever you say." Roman sings, his attention focused on peering out of the window. The car was now in drive, a silence lingering over the group. All that could be heard was the sounds of Iversons video game playing in the background.
Kendall's attention remained on his cellphone, not paying any mind to the people around him.
"How's work?" Maeve asks, but is only welcomed with silence.
"Ken."
"Wha—Are you talking to me?" He asks, finally looking up at his sister. She rolls her eyes, and turns to Rava. "Does he always play dumb?"
"I'm busy with things, Maeve—And it's fine." He responds irritatedly, clicking off his phone. As if it were to prove a point.
"You sure? You seem... stressed."
"He's always stressed." Iverson adds, his eyes never leaving his video game. Maeve weakly smiles toward the two children. She felt for them, knowing the difficulty of having an absent father. "Business is Business—Uh, you know... It's going." Kendall adds, noting his sisters concern.
"H-How's um, modeling?" He asks, hoping to bring her attention away from his children.
"How do you think it's going man?" Rome sarcastically asks, before leaning over to get in between the two. "...Her contract dropped her because Jason made her have a freak attack on the runway."
"They didn't drop me." Maeve corrects, her tone filled with aggravation.
"That's Not what the tabloids and news say..." Roman sings lowly, which caused her jaw to clench.
"Yeah, dude—Okay we get it." Kendall rushes out, hoping to defuse the tension.
"Well if that's true, then I guess you're still a spoiled rotten coke infested creep." She spat out, not able to help herself, squinting at him.
Roman immediately bursts out in laughter at her insult. "That all you got?" He provokes. To which she responds by shoving his face backwards.
"Okay! Can we not do this with the kids in the car?" Rava exclaims once realizing her children were witnessing the scene unfold.
"Crybaby."
"Asshole."
"Bitch."
"Dick."
"Whore."
Luckily for Rava and the children, the drive to the airport wasn't long. Immediately they are escorted out of their cars and toward the three sets of helicopters. Having enough of Roman & Shiv, Maeve remains by Kendall's side. Well—that was until her father ordered her to join him & Roman instead. "Come on, hurry up!" Her father shouts, causing her to verbally groan.
"Suck it up, buttercup." Kendall pokes, before walking off in the opposite direction. Now left alone, she quickly joins them.
Quickly she straps in and places the headphones over her head. Anxiety riddled within her as the helicopter began to take off, her palms tightly grasping onto the seat in reaction. It didn't help that Roman was in her vicinity, smirking at her reaction. Despite her fathers nickname, birdie came elsewhere. Although it was pretty ironic that Maeve absolutely loathed flying.
"I have a proposition, Birdie." Her father informs, pulling her attention away from her brother.
"Take a year in Shanghai."
"Dad—" She begins, only to be shut down and interrupted.
"You already have your bachelors—What's stopping you?!" He exclaims, causing Birdie to grip the seat tighter. It was difficult to think straight, let alone answer the question.
"Dad, look—I'm not interested in the company." She sprawled out, cutting the bullshit.
"You're sister isn't either—but she's starting to consider it." He points out, causing her to shake her head. "You might too."
"We're different people, dad."
"I know that!" He exclaims, almost insulted that she'd think differently. There was a pause of moment of silence, one that was full of tension.
"You're young, Meave. You wouldn't have to deal with the business aspect right away. Or at all, for that matter—We have people for that." Her father explains. Maeve couldn't even look at him, too busy digging her nails into the leather.
"You're sister... is withering away...." Logan trails out, catching his children's attention again.
"Oh god." Roman is the one to laugh out. Which only earns a glare from dad.
"....And far as I'm concerned. Shiv is incapable to pass down the business." Her father continues his thought. Maeve mentally cursed at the topic, knowing it would arise sooner than later.
"I think Iverson & Sophie will be more than capable to take the spot."
"I think what dad means is he'd prefer our business to remain in the bloodline." Roman points out.
"Do you want children, Meave?" Her dads finally asks.
"Uh, Well—I, maybe. I'm not entirely sure, yet."
She stumbles over her words, both thoughts and words combining at once. It also didn't help the fact that Logan was eyeing her down rather intensely.
"Are you lesbian, Maeve?" He suddenly asks, taking her by surprise.
"No, Dad. Oh my god. No? N-No, I'm not..." She stammers out, heat rising to her cheeks. Now everyone was eyeing her, including Romans step-daughter.
"I like men." I affirm them.
"So, what's the problem?" Her father asks, looking both confused and irritated.
"For starters, Im single..."
"That can be fixed."
"It's not that easy...."
"I'll arrange it. I know a few former—" Her father begins, only for Maeve to intervene.
"Dad—Look, thank you. For the... offer?" She trails off, confused at choice of her words.
"But?" He scoffs, rolling his eyes at the excuse
"But I spent two years of my life with a guy who publicly humiliated me..." She states, gently reminding the man of the fresh wound.
"Fuck Jason! He was a fucking airhead." He erupts in irritation.
"Dad—"
"He's a fucking faggot who bitch cries on screen for a living!" Logan continues on, shaking his head at the thought of the make bimbo.
"You shouldn't be crying over that idiot. I raised you better than that." He finished, pointing his finger at her scold-like. She tenses at this action. Knowing it had became one of her triggers.
"Im not crying over him." She murmurs under her breathe, only earning a glare her way.
"Anymore..." She adds, before fumbling her fingers.
"If someone fucks you over, you move onto something better."
"Better?"
"More attractive. More richer." He roughly comments, waving his hands for expression.
Those were great quality's to look in for a partner. But she didn't really care for it anymore. She had grown to realize those were perks. Love was essential, but in the end, she valued loyalty more than anything. But she remained quiet on the matter. Knowing her father would end up laughing in her face.
"I'm twenty five, dad. It don't think getting married would feel right." She points out, hoping to end the topic.
"What's wrong with twenty five?" He scoffs.
"I'd practically be a child bride." Maeve states, causing her father to laugh sarcastically, before face palming. "Jesus fucking Christ—both of my daughters are fucking feminists..."
"And liberal." Roman adds under his breathe, earning an glare from his youngest sibling.
"Dad, Twenty five is like—like the new eighteen... And I have so many years ahead of me. There's no need to rush things." She explains.
"Meave, are you aware of the age I turned today?" He asks, peaking over to eye his youngest.
"Eighty—Yes, dad. And guess what? You'll be hundred years old, healthy, and still be kicking everyone's ass." She continues, hand now placed on his shoulder. He sighs at her comment, knowing it was no use to continue this conversation further. Taking her hand in his, he eyes her for the last time.
"Will you at least consider it?"
"Of course."
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One of the most recent things I wrote in public (Reddit) about Stewy was that I headcanon him having the sweetest tooth ever and that he would have a pot of brigadeiro. So, here's the dynamic of the brigadeiro pot if you want to play along (and picture Stewy joining in).
First, you need prime ingredients and an excuse. For example, rainy day and a movie works fantastically well. You need condensed milk, chocolate drops, butter and cocoa powder.
Second, you get your ingredients into the pot. You are just getting into the mood. It's raining. He's preparing the tea in the meantime.
Third, once everything is almost ready, you get a bomb combination of just brewed tea (I'd suggest black tea or Earl Grey) and the brigadeiro almost at peak point.
Fourth, you pour your brigadeiro in a bowl. You can make it into the little ball form brigadeiro is mostly known as. But here it's all about the spoonful of it. Once it cools just enough to not burn your tongue, it's spoons and taking bits of it. The texture is like molten caramel. It's dense, sweet and incredibly good.
Fifth, choose your film wisely, and enjoy.
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Since we're in a baby fever: stewy being a literal daddy. I feel like he would actually be good with kids
Warnings: Implied drug use, mentions of pregnancy
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He's a little bit of dick at first when you tell him.
He tells you that he'll start interviewing nannies, and he says it with a teasing little grin.
But when you press, "Stewy," Softly, belying your nerves, it kinda lands with him more seriously.
He jumps into plan mode—getting you a better apartment with room for the baby, but not moving you in with him.
It makes sense to you. Stewy needs his space, and you didn't expect him to become a lap dog with a baby on the way.
Besides, he likes his late-night activities, and you're not gonna begrudge him that. There are some activities of his that you don't want around the baby.
Stewy doesn't want those around the baby, either. He saw how they messed up Kendall's relationship and marriage.
Speaking of marriage—
"Do you wanna get married?" He asks while you're sorting through paint color sample sheets.
"If this is your proposal, Hosseini, I'm underwhelmed."
"Seriously, though."
You glance up at him, thoughtful. Then you say, "Maybe, someday. But not just because of...You know."
You look back down at the paint, and he drops the topic.
You and the baby get the best of everything.
Did you know that there was such a thing as designer maternity clothing?
You know now, because it just turns up at your door. You never order any of it, Stewy always does.
He takes care of the down payment on your new apartment, but agrees to let you pay the utilities.
He puts your name on the lease, lets you choose most of the furnishings, which makes it feel like your home, not like 'the place that was bought for you'.
You do disagree over the nursery's furnishings.
You manage to talk him down from white carpet, because it's a baby's room, and, "Babies are messy."
"You'll have a maid, it'll stay clean."
"Stewy."
"...Grey?"
"Better."
Once the baby's there, Stewy's at the apartment most nights. Not every night, but often enough to know when dinner time for the baby is, and bedtime, and when not to come bursting into the apartment after a night out.
That's when his having his own apartment comes in handy.
If he can't say goodnight himself, he usually tries to FaceTime with the baby.
The baby gets as many designer clothes as you do—almost entirely ordered by Stewy as well.
It's not uncommon to see Stewy with the baby in his arm, and his phone in the other hand, texting or emailing.
Or to see Stewy bouncing the child with his phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder.
Stewy curses around the baby often, but not pointedly. He just doesn't think about it.
He does hire a nanny to help you out, and you find that you don't mind it as much as you thought you might.
You're able to go back to work without worrying terribly about the baby.
Sometimes, when you're heading home, you step out of the office building to find Stewy standing in front of a black town car, waiting for you.
9/10 times the two of you go home to the baby.
The other time, he ushers you into the bar and takes you out to dinner, or at least get takeout before heading home to the baby.
Stewy's not always the easiest to be with, but he's mostly understanding when you put your foot down where your child is involved.
On the baby's first birthday, as you're getting throw the baby's birthday party, you look down to find the baby crawling you.
"Honey," You coo, bending down to scoop them up, "What are you doing? I thought Daddy was picking something for you to wear—" Your eyes dart to a small bracelet on the baby's wrist, and find an engagement ring hanging there.
You stare at it for a moment, stunned, before you spot Stewy standing in the doorway, smiling expectantly. You huff out a soft laugh, shaking your head a little as the baby squirms and squeals, gripping your shirt.
Stewy comes more deeply into the room, asking, "Still underwhelmed?"
"Shut up," You laugh softly as Stewy cuddles into your side and drops a kiss to your lips.
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