#succession headcanons
Note
maybe general dating headcanons of the succession characters? like the type of partners/lovers they are? thx 😸
hi anon!! so sorry this is late AKDJSJF hopefully you like it x love u thank u for requesting <3
listened to “i see the light” on loop while I wrote this so now it’s the size of a oneshot
dating them (succession main cast)
Kendall
ᝰ idc what you have to say, words of affirmation is his TOP love language
ᝰ all the others apply to him but like
ᝰ that one is his favorite
ᝰ both to give and to receive
ᝰ he’s always making sure you’re happy
ᝰ in the moment and just in general
ᝰ and it’s like his world comes crashing down when you express you’re feeling insecure
ᝰ he’s your #1 supporter in self love
ᝰ once you’ve moved in together, he starts leaving you notes where he know’s you’ll find them
ᝰ things like “you’re loved” with crappy doodles of hearts and two stick figures that you think are supposed to be the both of you
ᝰ he likes treating you to nice things whenever he can
ᝰ fancy dinners, jewelry, watches, vacations
ᝰ he has the money; it’s not like he’s just going to NOT spend it on you
ᝰ and he’s your biggest advocate in everything
ᝰ sometime’s he’s lowkey rude about it
ᝰ like if your order comes out wrong at a restaurant
ᝰ he’s all “um, actually, no, this isn’t right”
ᝰ and you’re just “ken calm down”
ᝰ “no, you deserve the best, which is what you’re going to get.”
ᝰ maybe he’s not so much into kissing in public, but he’s always touching you one way or another
ᝰ he’s always holding your hand, or you’ve taken his bicep or elbow, or he has his hand on the small of your back, your hip, your shoulder
ᝰ the paparazzi is always around, and he wants you close and safe
ᝰ and he also likes that everyone can see that the two of you are involved
ᝰ committed to each other
ᝰ at the end of the day, he’s just happy you’re his
ᝰ you make him a better man
ᝰ and he’s eternally grateful that he has you
ᝰ he’s your big ol softie
Roman
ᝰ physical touch and quality time
ᝰ you spend all of your evenings together cuddled up and murmuring to each other about your days
ᝰ can’t cook for the life of him, but when he can, he makes you breakfast
ᝰ if your hair is long, he’ll learn to braid just so he can spend mor time with you
ᝰ under all the jokes he’s really just soft and sapp
ᝰ he treats you with so much car
ᝰ everything he does is thought out as to how you’ll receive i
ᝰ he only takes you out to dinner when he knows you’ll be able to have your favorite table
ᝰ he learns how to make different kinds of soup for you when you’re sick
ᝰ subtle pda king
ᝰ if you’re at dinner with his family, his hand’s on your thigh
ᝰ if you’re out walking in the street, he’s holding your hand
ᝰ if you’re lounging around on his dad’s yacht, his head’s on your stomach
ᝰ and he’s snoring but that’s not the point
ᝰ he loves just being with you
ᝰ he sits right up against you when you’re on the couch
ᝰ he lets you sit in his lap whenever you want
ᝰ his arm’s around you in every picture you take
ᝰ your cheeks smushed together in a bunch of selfies
ᝰ you’re his phone wallpaper
ᝰ work and home
ᝰ he loves talking about you
ᝰ at work galas he absolutely adores introducing you as his spouse
ᝰ or if you’re not there he asks “oh, do you happen to know my partner?”
ᝰ and then talks about you nonstop
ᝰ at a dinner you leave him to go get something for you both to drink
ᝰ before you make your way back, you spot him talking to a colleague
ᝰ he has his wallet out, and he’s showing the colleague something
ᝰ you get closer and realize it’s a picture of you
Shiv
ᝰ she treats you like a queen
ᝰ she’s a physical touch girl
ᝰ but really she loves words of affirmation
ᝰ and gift giving
ᝰ giving you gifts, specifically
ᝰ her favorite part of life after meeting you is spending lazy mornings in, cuddled up, kissing, touching
ᝰ she particularly enjoys going on long walks with you
ᝰ down piers, beaches, whatever
ᝰ her hand in yours, her eyes towards the sky
ᝰ she loves bringing things back for you from work trips
ᝰ or any trip she takes
ᝰ chocolates, matching bracelets, trinkets that remind you of her
ᝰ she makes all your days brighter
ᝰ one day on a visit to her office to bring her lunch, you find out there's literally seven framed pictures of you on her desk
ᝰ you are her phone wallpaper
ᝰ but she has it so it changes every time her phone closes
ᝰ so it's really thirty different photos of you are her wallpaper
ᝰ most mornings, she’s tucked up against you
ᝰ face buried in your neck
ᝰ it’s her favorite place to be
ᝰ just with you
ᝰ despite all of her peacocking and chest puffery, she just needs your support
ᝰ she needs you
ᝰ she needs her rock
ᝰ your love
ᝰ she tends to overthink and stress herself out
ᝰ but when things look like they’re going bad, she knows she can come to you
ᝰ and you’ll kiss her, tell her she’s beautiful, coo to her with that perfect voice of yours
ᝰ and suddenly everything is okay again
ᝰ for that, she knows you deserve the world
ᝰ she pampers you
ᝰ spoils you
ᝰ a tradition between the two of you is an annual trip down to the caribbean
ᝰ you both spend all your time out on the beach
ᝰ either splashing each other in the water
ᝰ or her curled up on top of you, skin pressed to yours
ᝰ she loves doing your hair and picking out outfits when you let her
ᝰ she loves doting on you when you’re sick
ᝰ she can’t bear it when you’re hurt
ᝰ but obviously won’t ever show it
ᝰ what she will show is how much she loves you
ᝰ everywhere you go, you feel loved
ᝰ she’ll never stop loving you
Tom
ᝰ mr. quality time
ᝰ literally does not care what you’re doing; he’s with you
ᝰ all he wants is to be with you
ᝰ you bring him peace
ᝰ his favorite pastime is cuddling with you in bed
ᝰ specifically with your jaw cupped in his hand, anchoring your head to his chest
ᝰ along with quality time, he’s huge on gift giving
ᝰ every week, he comes home with flowers
ᝰ and there’s always a fresh vase on your work desk
ᝰ he LOVES writing you notes
ᝰ love letters, even
ᝰ every new bouquet of flowers that show up at your work come with a heartfelt note
ᝰ in every single one, he tells you he loves you
ᝰ then writes about whatever it is he has going on in his day and how he’s thinking of you
ᝰ while he’ll never admit it, he loves pda
ᝰ specifically when you initiate it
ᝰ it makes him all smiley and happy
ᝰ he especially loves it when you’re hanging off of his arm at work things and he gets to show you off
ᝰ he just thinks you’re the most gorgeous person to exist ever
ᝰ he can never go to sleep without his arms around you
ᝰ he started wearing those nasal strips because he knows he snores and doesn’t want to keep you awake
ᝰ this man loves him a good restaurant
ᝰ but only if you’re there with him
ᝰ he can never get behind sitting across from you unless you’re in a booth
ᝰ he says that it’s more intimate when you’re sitting next to each other at a square table
ᝰ ALWAYS lets you eat from his plate
ᝰ if he ever ‘stoops as low’ (his words) as to go to a fast food place, he always asks if you want fries
ᝰ he knows to get you an order regardless otherwise you’ll just steal from him
ᝰ not that he cares anyway
ᝰ he also particularly loves watching the sun set with you
ᝰ something poetic about the sky almost being as beautiful as you
ᝰ you both try to watch it whenever you can
ᝰ because you only have so many days on this earth
ᝰ he wants to spend as many of them as physically possible with you
ᝰ you’ve noticed, though, over the sunsets, he doesn’t really pay attention to them after a certain amount of time
ᝰ he just stares at you
ᝰ and whenever you catch his eyes, they’re so full of love
ᝰ just for you
ᝰ only for you
Greg
ᝰ acts of service warrior
ᝰ LOVES doing things for you
ᝰ whether it be chores or bringing you coffee at work
ᝰ he likes feeling useful
ᝰ especially if he feels useful to you
ᝰ it’s a different sort of ecstasy for him
ᝰ you like buying him bracelets
ᝰ he wears them everywhere
ᝰ you’d gotten him an “i love my partner” (those like i <3 my gf) pin as a joke and he unironically wears it around on his waystar lanyard
ᝰ "yeah, my partner got that for me!"
ᝰ he’s a bit panicky and overthinks too much
ᝰ but he just has to look at you and his anxieties come under control
ᝰ he’s always running around, so he really enjoys just laying with you in bed
ᝰ he sleeps like a dying victorian child
ᝰ slumped over on you like the life was sucked from him
ᝰ he likes going on miniature adventures with you
ᝰ they’re nothing crazy; just dates that push him out of his comfort zone
ᝰ like kayaking
ᝰ you had to force him into the boat to go kayaking with you
ᝰ like physically
ᝰ yeah he’s scared, he doesn’t want to get hurt
ᝰ he doesn’t want you to get hurt
ᝰ but he hears you laughing and sees your gorgeous smile
ᝰ and that’s when he realizes he can just suck it up
ᝰ because he wants you happy
ᝰ he learns how to make those braided bracelets for you
ᝰ it’s a calming hobby, and he likes seeing them on your wrists
ᝰ he made something for you
ᝰ and you like it
ᝰ that’s all he could ever need in life
ᝰ he learns how to cook your favorite meals for you
ᝰ and he’s a surprisingly good cook
ᝰ his hyper vigilance over the food makes it come out almost perfectly every time
ᝰ unless he’s having a breakdown
ᝰ which happens less now that he’s gotten with you
ᝰ you make things calm
ᝰ he loves calm
ᝰ he loves you
Stewy
ᝰ he’s so extra
ᝰ literally every single love language under the sun is his favorite one
ᝰ showers you with little trinkets that just remind him of you
ᝰ if you collect something, he’s constantly gifting you specifically that
ᝰ he spends as much time as he can with you
ᝰ as long as he’s not working, he’s perfectly content just sitting in silence with you
ᝰ he’s a massive fan of the water
ᝰ may it be yachts, jetskiis, floating gazebos
ᝰ he likes making special dates out of things like that
ᝰ he wants you to feel like everything you do together is new
ᝰ he doesn’t want you getting bored
ᝰ he’s worried you will, actually
ᝰ if he buys you jewelry, it’s hella expensive
ᝰ and diamond studded
ᝰ if you’re a watch person, he’s even worse
ᝰ he buys you every watch you ever look at
ᝰ goes the most bananas over pda out of everyone
ᝰ internally, anyway
ᝰ he doesn’t make it kown, but his some of his favorite moments with you are when you’re both bustling through a crowd in italy or something
ᝰ but you’re clinging to each other so neither of you get lost
ᝰ did i mention he likes traveling
ᝰ he likes traveling
ᝰ and you’re the only person he’d ever even consider traveling with
ᝰ at night in greece, he discovers he likes the pinky holding thing
ᝰ he saw it on tiktok
ᝰ so when you’re walking back to your hotel, he hooks his pinky with yours
ᝰ and it becomes a thing between you two
ᝰ also is for some reason obsessed with giving you his jacket when you’re cold
ᝰ it could be below freezing and you already have a jacket on
ᝰ and he’d give you his blazer or coat anyway
ᝰ and he’ll stand there shivering with this dumb grin on his face
ᝰ it always ends with you two sharing a scarf
ᝰ you think he does it on purpose, just do be close
ᝰ just to have an excuse to have an arm around you
ᝰ and really, you’re right
ᝰ he just needs you
#succession x reader headcanons#succession headcanons#succession#succession hbo#succession x reader#anon ask#kendall roy#kendall roy x reader#roman roy#roman roy x reader#siobhan roy#siobhan roy x reader#tom wambsgans#tom wambsgans x reader#gregory hirsch#gregory hirsch x reader#stewy hosseini#stewy hosseini x reader#wambsgansshoelaces
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Could you do some Roman Roy smut headcannons?
Roman Roy ♡ Smut Headcanons
Ah little Romey…We ALL know Roman is the type to catch feelings for someone after they’ve been friends for a while. Slowly increasing the amount of sexual jokes he makes towards them
One day he would call you one day while you were at work, joking about how hard his dick was. You would respond something like “Eww gross Rome, why are you telling me this?” and instantly hear him gulp on the other end
He was speechless, your harsh reaction turning him on. That's when he would really start to see you as more than a friend
You know that scene from Wolf of Wall Street, when Margot Robbie spreads her legs and puts her heel on his head to stop him from getting closer. That's the kind of thing Roman would fantasize about, eventually letting it slip out
So of course once you finally put the pieces together of his little kink, you had to take advantage…
He showed up at your apartment to find you in bed with your legs spread playing with your clit, you were shocked he actually tried to make a move. But when you stopped him and instead told him he could only watch, he was hooked. Now he had to have you
He's had so much in his life handed to him, he liked that you made him work for you
Things would start with mutual masturbation, he loved watching you touch yourself while he jerked off. Teasing him the whole time “Are you going to cum for me already? God so needy for my pussy”
Obviously this boy wants you to degrade him pretty intensely. He doesn’t know why he likes it but when you make him get on his knees for you, and taunt him about how he can’t fuck you, his pants instantly get tighter
Would try to fix any fights, arguments or even little disagreements with sex.
“Will you just sit on my fucking face!” Wants you grinding down on him while you pull his hair, moving his head where you want him. Suffocate him a little…
But I think he would also loveeeee if you were really gentle with him. Calling him a “good boy” and holding his head stroking his hair while he sucks your nipples eeeee
Okayy I think Roman would be super anxious at the thought of accidentally cumming in you and getting you pregnant. Usually pulling out to cum all over your stomach or face
But one day while he was fucking you harder then usual you couldn’t stop yourself from wrapping your legs around him, trapping him in deeper. Instantly he would be whining into your ear, repeating “fuck” under his breath as he came harder then ever
From that moment he would be obsessed with cumming inside you. Still terrified, but it was that thrill that turned him. Especially when it felt like you almost made him do it. By wrapping your legs around him, or not stopping when you're riding him
I think you could get some gooood praise out of Roman while teasing him
You had been straddling his waist, grinding your wet fold along his dick, stopping every time he got close. Eventually he would be panting “Please let me have your pussy, ugh need to be inside of you” and “You’re so good to me, I love you, I love you”
Don't think he would be a fan of wanting to take baths or showers together however, would want to watch you take a bath. Sometimes making it sexual, jerking off while he watches you lather soap everywhere. But most of the time just wanted to vent and ramble to you about whatever’s on his mind
Hes soooooo 😡 i love him
#succession season 4#succession headcanons#succession smut#succession#roman roy#roman roy x reader#roman#roman roy smut#roman roy headcanon#roman succession#kendall roy smut
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That’s basically how this scene went, yeah.
#hbo succession#stewy hosseini#kendall roy#succession hbo#kenstewy#kendall x stewy#succession headcanons#kenstew#webweaving#web weaving
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Romeo Take Me Somewhere We Can Be Alone (Roman Roy Succession Request)
Part Two Available Now!
Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Gender Neutral! Reader
Requests: "Roman x Mattson!reader? Forbidden/secret relationship?" AND "Perhaps some smut for Roman Roy? Maybe Roman being on the more submissive side? Thank you!"
Warnings: Smut, spoilers for the new season.
Word Count: 2.7k
Author's Note: Oh Roman, I'm going to pretend I haven't seen the latest episode so I can continue fancying you without having to think critically about this piece of media 🙃 Thank you to the ABSOLUTE genius that suggested a Mattson! reader, forbidden romance vibe, I loved the request and enjoyed writing this so much, I've gone full Romeo & Juliet! (More like Rome-eo, hahaha I felt like a genius for this). Also this is my first Roman smut so it was a bit of a challenge to try and keep it in the same tone i've written Roman in so far, but I hope you enjoy! As always keep the requests coming :D
Romey-o take me somewhere we can be alone
"Have you had enough of this little ass-kiss fucky fest yet?" You watched the little bubble pop up on your phone and looked across the party in reflex, scanning the crowd until you saw his smug little smile directed your way. You unlocked your phone to reply, scrolling up to glimpse the hundreds of messages between the two of you since you'd met that day at the woodlands company retreat three weeks ago.
***
"Problems working with your older brother? I can relate." You stepped out into the night air to find Roman hunched over the railing of the small balcony, hands threading through his hair so firmly he threatened to pull it out in clumps. His shoulders grew a little less tense as your voice washed over him, hands falling to the edge of ledge as he gestured for you to join him.
"So you're the younger Mattson? You could have fooled me, on account of you not being a massive dick." He laughed at the words but it came out hollow, watching his breath form a white wisp in front of his face in the cold night air.
"Thanks, I try my best to be an actual human being. I hear out of all the Roys you're the most favourable to be around too."
He turned his head sharply to really look at you, the sincerity in your tone and the measured kindness of your words catching his attention.
"Oh yeah?" He probed, hoping another almost compliment would fall from your lips before he did something to ruin this moment. Truth was he'd spend half the weekend watching the way you floated through the conference, poised, humble, soft; the antithesis of your brother Lucas. And so he'd avoided you, sure that any moment spent in your presence would only tarnish the shining light you carried so effortlessly.
"I like to think I've got good instincts for people, and I think there's something about you that's different from the rest of your family. And I mean that in a good way." You were thoughtful as you spoke, treading lightly around the slick man in front of you, sure that one wrong move would have him sprinting back inside, spitting venom in his words as he went.
"That's actually pretty nice to hear these days." Roman replied after a pause, now standing squarely to face you, searching your eyes for any hint of deception and mockery and instead finding a tranquility that washed over him in waves as you returned a smile he hadn't realised he was sharing.
"I'm really sorry about your father by the way. And I'm even more sorry that you have to be here right now." You grimaced at your brother's insistence that this weekend go ahead as planned, every ounce of humanity seeming to leave him the moment his bank account saw a certain amount of zeros. Roman nodded at your words, the taste of condolences still unfamiliar and bitter in his mouth, cursing his father for ruining yet another interaction for him, even from beyond the grave. You read his silence for the pain that it was and set your hand gently on top of his where it rested on the railing.
"Well I should go back inside before any of our siblings accuse us of fraternising with the enemy, but it was nice to meet you. I really mean that."
Panic rose up in the back of Roman's throat as you turned to move away, not yet ready for this moment to end, feeling better than he had in weeks. He ignored the voice crying out inside him to stay strong, to isolate himself, to trust no one, and instead caught your rising hand with his.
"Maybe we could fraternise just a little longer.
***
And so you and Roman had spent an evening sharing in the perils of being a younger sibling in your strange corporate worlds, swapping numbers and an unspoken agreement to keep this from your families as you departed the next day, Roman touching the spot on his cheek you had blessed with a gentle kiss when he snuck into your treehouse to say a real goodbye. And so followed weeks of secret texts and furtive phone calls, pouring out your souls until finally you were back in the same room, parted in a hotel lobby by a sea of political donors and movers and shakers, but feeling only one pair of eyes on you.
"I thought you'd never ask." You sent back in response, locking eyes with him once again and tipping your head toward an emergency exit you had checked led to a service elevator. From opposite sides of the room you each slipped through the crowd, trying your best to be unseen, aware that any of these prying eyes could collapse what you had delicately built with a single passing comment. As you reached the door you did a final scan to ensure there were no Waystar or GoJo members nearby who could catch a glimpse of this subtle rendezvous, before backing through the door yourself.
Roman stood waiting between the open elevator doors, looking almost bashful as you dashed towards him, vanishing into the small metal room as he let the door slide shut behind him.
"Thanks for holding it." You couldn't help the anticipation loaded in your tone, facing Roman and finding him stood barely an inch away from your blushing face.
"I had a feeling we were going to the same floor." He breathed out, eyes wide and hands shaking as they rose to brush either side of your face, the adoration clear in the gentle way his thumbs stroked your cheeks.
Before either of you could think your way out of something good, you leant forward, closing the gap between your lips and sending a whirlwind of warmth and glitter spinning through your bodies, the reunion more than worth the wait. His head bobbed forward to return the gesture, body following the movement until he was pressed entirely against you. It wasn't rough, or frantic, or urgent. It was like deep down you knew you'd be doing this forever, so you had all the time in the world to sweetly caress the nape of his neck, parting his lips for a content sigh that only let you taste more of him.
By the time the lift doors opened on your floor Roman could hardly remember where he began and you ended, unsure how he ever coped being half way across the planet from you, needing to keep you as close as he could for every second you could steal tonight. You could feel it too, the desperate pull of your heart towards him, the air of secrecy that only made you want him more, this forbidden fruit the sweetest you would ever taste.
You could feel his cheeks brush against yours as he fought back a smile at finally having you in his arms, and the physical confirmation you had been feeling this overwhelming chemistry too. He would have berated anyone else for believing in love at first sight, but as you rested your forehead softly against his, feeling the joy emanating between you, he didn't think this could be anything else. When you pushed the jacket free of his shoulders, helping him shrug away the fabric until it crumpled on the floor, he had to stop himself from pulling away. Not because he didn't want this with you. It was really the opposite; he couldn't remember ever feeling this way, ever wanting someone to be so close to him, to feel every part of him, and now he wanted that more than anything with you. But he was scared of being vulnerable, and insecure in his inexperience, completely unsure what real intimacy could even look like.
As you worked through the buttons on his shirt, you could see the gears whirring in his head, the unmistakable fear and excitement of a man that's seen a hard-drive's worth of porn but never felt the touch of a person that genuinely cares about them.
"We can stop?" You offered, pulling your hands away from his shirt, only for him to vigorously shake his head and rip it off himself, a stray button clattering across the floor, disrupting the heavy silence.
"I want to." He insisted, his eyes full of desperate desire as you brought your hands to his now bare chest, his heart hammering in anticipation inside. Unsure of what to do next, Roman firmly grabbed at your ass, voice wavering as he tried to take control, feeling like that should be his role,
"Do you like that, you fucking slut?" Both of your faces seemed to contort in discomfort as the words tumbled out of his mouth, his hand quickly releasing and his eyes clenching shut in embarrassment.
"Sorry Rome, I don't even think you like that?" You questioned softly, bringing your fingertips to sweep delicately over the creases in his forehead, his brow slowly unfurrowing as he blinked his eyes open to see you again.
"Fuck, sorry, I was trying to, you know, talk dirty, be sexy." He waved his hands in a gesture of uncertainty as he spoke, surprised you weren't laughing at him or taking the opportunity to run for the door.
"You know talking doesn't have to be degrading to be sexy?" You replied, the calm, confident smile on your face matched by the alluring look in your eye leaving Roman feeling like a deer in headlights, but praying the car will crash right into him.
"Oh yeah?" He gulped, eyes wide as you nodded, pushing him gently so he could step backwards towards the end of the bed. He let himself drift in your current as your touch laid him backwards, every wave of contact soothing his nerves.
"Can I show you?" You breathed in his ear, settling your thighs either side of his legs, feeling all the more powerful for being fully dressed as his bare chest heaved beneath you.
"Please." He begged softly, letting his eyes flutter shut as your lips found his again, fingers tracing a path down his stomach until they reached his belt.
"I'm so glad I got to see you tonight." You sighed against his lips as you began to undo the buckle, feeling his hips twitch, reacting to even the slightest touch. His head leant forward, trying to chase your lips as you spoke, needy for the taste of your kiss as you released the zip and buttons in your way.
"Me too." He eventually sighed out as your lips moved out of his reach, mapping a course across his cheek until you reached the edge of his jaw, applying a little more pressure until you heard the low rumble of moan escape his lips.
"I like hearing you enjoy yourself." You purred, confidence building as he relaxed against your touch, submitting to your control, putty in your hands. Marking a sweet constellation of kisses over his neck you slowly slipped your hand inside his boxers, running one finger over the length of him and feeling him buck up to meet your touch. Roman had never felt both so excited and so relaxed at the same time, never this comfortable with someone exploring his body before, but feeling like he wanted to give every inch over to your control, sure your loving touch could put all the broken pieces of him back together.
You wrapped your hand around his hard length, pumping over him a few times to gage his reaction. His eyebrows scrunched down towards his nose, lips parting as a moan seemed to reverberate through his whole body.
"Does that feel good?" Your tone was sweet, if not a little teasing, sucking on a spot on his throat that seemed to leave him barely able to spit out an 'uh-uh' in response.
"Good, I want to make you feel good, Roman. Will you let me make you feel good?" You praised, bobbing your head down to his chest and picking up the pace of your rubbing hand. Ability to think and speak quickly surrendered, Roman just nodded, for once unable to think of a quippy comeback and just enjoying someone else taking control and being with him so intimately. He'd touched himself like this hundreds of times, thinking cruel, perverse little thoughts the whole time until he was left sitting in a puddle of his own self-contempt. But with you it felt like something new entirely, something positive, and warm, and with each soft praise and gentle kiss that poured from your lips and landed squarely on his chest he could feel his heart lifting, thinking maybe there's a reason he'll only ever thought of it as 'fucking' and not 'making love'.
Your lips drifted down to his chest, gingerly placing a kiss on one nipple and smiling at the way he squirmed under you, eyes now staring down at you in full adoration like you were the most wondrous miracle he could have dreamt of. You could feel his cock starting to twitch in your hand, cooing over him again, sure this wouldn't be the last time the two of you spend a night hiding in the sheets together.
"You're doing so well, Roman. Good boy."
"You feel - so - good." He panted out, the praise bringing him close to the edge before he could really think enough to stop it. Ignoring your own desire stirring up inside your stomach, you gripped your hand on him a little firmer, leaving the other to trace faint circles over his chest, the lingering damp of your kisses only making him more sensitive. Crashing your lips back against his you swallowed his moan before breathing out,
"Cum for me, Rome, please." His lips pressed hard against yours as his hips started to shake, unable to hold back for a second longer and spilling hot white ropes across his stomach, almost whimpering at his sensitive release, overstimulated but still whining the second you released your grip.
His hands reached up to capture your face, somehow trying to portray a lifetime's worth of gratitude and affection in a single overwhelming kiss, before finally releasing you to breathe. As you rose up onto your knees, surveying the smiling fool of a man lying beneath you, you couldn't help but laugh at the state of both of your suit trousers, marred with streaks of sticky white.
"We might need to hide up here for a while until we get cleaned up and dried off, or this might be hard to explain."
"You don't think we could say two seperate waiters happen to get lucky?" Roman rebuffed, pulling a disgusted face as he wiped a finger over the fluid pooling on his stomach.
"Or one waiter got very lucky?" You suggested with a smile, Roman using every ounce of remaining strength to sit up until his lips could find their way to yours.
"No-one's that lucky, so I guess we better stay hidden. I reckon there's a lot more stuff you could show me anyway." Roman's eyes drifted down your body eagerly, wondering exactly what else he'd been missing by never trying it with the right person.
"You don't think the party will miss us?" You teased, pretending to bat away his eager hands.
"What party?" He scoffed, letting you capture him by the wrists and pulling you back to lie with him, falling so you pinned his wrists either side of him, a position he was more than happy to end up in.
"What about our families?" You couldn't help the worried tinge in your voice as you remembered the seemingly insurmountable barrier that stood between yours and Roman's lives. With unusual sincerity he gazed up into your eyes and said softly,
"Fuck 'em, you're my family now."
#writing#fanfiction#one shot#requests#roman roy angst#roman roy fluff#roman roy imagine#roman roy x reader#roman roy#succession imagine#succession hbo#succession#succession headcanons#succession requests#succession roman#roman succession#reader insert#gender neutral fanfic#gn!reader
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Kissing Kendall Roy Would Include...
Request: idk if the Kendall Roy request is still open but like; i know it sounds silly but just kissing him. Just always kissing him whenever you can reach at the time. his hands while he hands you a glass of wine while youre sittin on the couch? sure. top of his head from behind? you got it. his eyelids when hes slowly waking up? amazing. under the jaw after straightening up his collar? lovely. on the chest after the shower? hot. cheeks so he doesnt cry? the cutest. just how can you stop when its HIM-
BABE I am YEARING god you are so real for this I want to cry I- Also ty ty for doing my job for me and giving me legit all the amazing headcanons inspo ily fr <3
NOT ME WRITING 4.1K OF KISSING KENDALL HEADCANONS LMAOO anyway I went a bit overboard and this took quite a while to write, so please please let me know if you enjoy! :) Thank you!
Warning: Kissing, racy kissing, some heavily implied NSFW, mentions of drinking and smoking and a little strong language! Although not explicit, I’m going to go with 18+ on this one please!
(I do not own Succession or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @technicolourtelevision.)
☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°
Hngghhhh I want to kiss Kendall Roy so bad like?? His little dopey eyes and his sweet as seduction smile and his perfectly squidgy cheeks and those sad plump lips like frick Logan and the cycle of abuse Kendall Roy was invented for kissing pls-
Your first kiss happened when the two of you were sixteen: Shiv and Roman had been shipped off for the day to some yacht event their mother was hosting in England, and so the usually imposing mansion seemed all the more eerie when you slipped into its hall. Trawling through the rooms, you peered through ornate doorway after empty doorway to find nothing other than freshly beaten rugs and expensive looking vases crowding the place. Little did you know, as you snuck into one of the Roy’s ‘entertainment rooms’ in the west wing of the second floor, that Kendall was similarly as bored as you were; finally being given a break from listening in to his father’s conference calls, it wasn’t long until Ken decided to investigate the weird sound of talking coming from down a couple of corridors. He came trawling in to see you looking surprised, sitting hunched up on the floor and watching some kind of 00s looking rom-com on the flat screen television. He smiled fondly, not surprised to see you, and came dawdling over until he was perched politely down in front of the settee beside you. His freshly pressed brown trousers brushed against your own as his knee came to rest against your own, and he didn’t even hesitate to reach into your open backpack and pull out a couple of sweets you had smuggled into the Roy residence.
There had always been something between the two of you, ever since you had met as neighbouring children almost ten years ago now. A stolen glance. A kiss on the cheek when the two of you departed to plod sadly back home. A missed bite on the lip when the two of you waved and ran over to hug each other after only a few days apart. Kendall cradling himself and always beelining straight for your arms when his father had yelled at him again. Even so, while the two of you sat staring at the television screen without even really seeing it, it took Ken quite a lot of courage to try and make his feelings a little better known. Taking inspiration from the way the character flashing before his tired eyes had grasped onto the protagonist’s hand in some desperate plea of true love, Kendall tentatively spread his fingers out like a sprouting vine until they bumped against your own. He didn’t even turn his head when he planted them gingerly down on top of your own, but his fingertips shook nonetheless. It took you a great deal of bravery as well to rest your elbow back on the cushion as if you were going for a yawn, before letting your own fingers fall back down against the nape of his neck. Uncertainly, you hold your breath, and hear Kendall’s hitch as you play with a few strands of the hair poking out just above his cream cable-knit jumper. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his hand claw where it’s resting on his inner thigh.
Before you can even register your shock, Ken’s torso has turned and he’s leapt at you, clumsily knocking you backwards. Luckily his hands have already shot out to grasp behind your back, so you manage not to bruise yourself against his ferocity, but it doesn’t stop you from gasping as Kendall clambers over your body like a shoot reaching for the sunlight. The overwhelming rush of love gushed through him like the course of a river as he overtook you, his lips frantically latching and smothering and pulling against your own until you couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t feel. All there was in that moment was Kendall, his legs sliding between your own and the throb of his plump lips as they graced over every inch of your mouth they could latch onto.
He only pulled away, most unfortunately in a state of fear driven panic when the door pounded open and the scowl of his father thundered across the doorway. It was the first time Logan had ever caught him in the act of showing true, unforced, fully felt love, and so for a while after that Kendall retreats back into himself. Feeling the lash, feeling the sting of his father’s disdain, he becomes more cautious about allowing himself to indulge in the one thing he’s ever truly wanted in his life.
He tries his best to pull himself away from you - but it’s like an invisible tide, slowly swallowing him whole again until he’s lost in the warm tides, the glimmers of you breaking through the blue bounds like shards of sunlight and free air. He tries his best to smother it, or to drink and smoke the hole in his chest away, but even then it doesn’t do the trick: he has to steal one more kiss from you before he goes away to college, and then he can release you from the hell scape that is his life. A few hours before he’s due to head off for his first term, you enter his bedroom to find Roman rummaging through the last few half-packed boxes, searching for technology he can steal from his brother. You ask him where Ken is, and he gives you a ‘I wouldn’t even fucking bother, I’ve already tried to talk to him’ raise of his eyebrow and shrugs, titling his head slightly towards the bedroom’s balcony. That’s all the invitation you need to slide open the gliding doors and step out into the cold breeze, shivering as a few drops of rain brush off from the drooping trees that dance over the railings.
Kendall’s sitting on one of the lounge chairs: his legs are pulled up to his chest, and his arms are tightly clasped around them. He has headphones on, and as you come to sit beside him, you realise that his chin is tucked into the gap between the legs and he’s crying quietly to himself. He startles when he feels your pressure against his side, but neither of you say a word. You just already know that his heart is broken. And he knows there’s nothing he can do, nothing he can say that will stop him from being the shadow latched onto his father’s shoe. He’s tired. Of his father. Of his life. Of being a Roy. Of not being able to be with you in the way he so desperately begs for at night. So, before he gets into the limo you can see rambling down the stone-spitting drive, Kendall Roy kisses you for the second time. And in his mind, he believes it to be the last. You can taste his salty tears as he tenderly leans his head over, the slight pressure against your mouth making the lines on your forehead deepen. For a moment, your mouth opens in a gasp and Ken takes the opportunity to brush the front of his tongue against your own. But then the limo pulls up outside the front door and honks its horn, and Ken pulls away with a sigh. Before he leaves, he sorrowfully lets his forehead fall against the top of your own, and he sniffles for a few seconds as he desperately tries not to choke on his tears.
Then he just gets up and leaves. He can’t even bear to look backwards. It just hurts too much, even though he feels his heart being bruised and broken with each step away from you he takes.
Thankfully for Kendall, you’re not going to give up on him. You’ll stay by his side through thick and thin, keeping as his best friend throughout his adult years. If he can’t allow himself to love fully, and freely at the moment, that’s fine. The time will come for the two of you. The time will come when he’s no longer scrambling for that knife in the mud. The time will come when he’s the victor, and he can bend and snap the rules at his own will and fancy.
Besides, soulmates always found their way back to each other in the end.
It takes quite a few years for Ken to finally admit you’re the love of life. Until his mother’s wedding in a beautiful, if slightly dusty, hamlet in Southern Tuscany. Like a flower blossoming out of the cracks of a dull grave, he breaks down in front of his siblings on that sun-dried street. How much he ‘fucking loves you’ and ‘fucking misses you’, and that he’s a ‘coward’, so it’s no surprise that when you come wandering past one of the orange backhouses trying to find Ken, Roman and Shiv give each other a look and decide to give the two of you a moment alone before calling for a car. When you spot him sitting alone, shivering, looking as if life had just stomped on him and left him a quivering mess by the bins, your heart just crumbles.
He barely moves when you come to settle down on the dirt beside him. He just stays flopped like a ragdoll, his hands shaking where they rest over his knees. After a moment or two of you just allowing him to settle into a safe silence, he begins to wrangle his hands together nervously: a sure sign that he’s about to start sobbing. So you do the only thing you can think of in that moment, without breaking him into a million pieces. You lean sideways, and press a gentle kiss against the top of his stubble line, the skin warm and scratchy under your touch. He finally musters the courage to take a glance at you then, and from the sheer emotion that wallows in the pained look he gives you, you just know. He can’t hide it anymore. It has to come out, whether he can admit to it or not. Ken opens his mouth, a gasp rushing in as if his whole lungs are about to tumble out, and you jump at the opportunity. Before he can drown you lunge forward and latch onto his lips, right where a stray beam of sunlight is resting. He’s quick to reach up and cup your face, turning his head sideways so he could better wipe his bottom lip against the edge of your mouth. He cinched you to him, a shiver rolling down his spine as a few stray tears rolled their way down the bridge of his nose. The heat of the sun starts to burn against the back of your head but you couldn’t care less, because Ken has started laughing breathlessly, hysterically against your open mouth. It’s almost as if strangled devotions are about to choking their way up his throat, but you quickly silence him once more, and he falls, for the first time in his life, easily against you.
Thankfully, kisses after that afternoon come much more freely - especially the languished ones on your wedding night. I mean, he’s waited far too many years for this moment, so Ken manages to sneak you away from the party and bridal carries you up the staircase and into the newlywed suite of the fancy estate. You bite the edge of his bottom lip as he places you down on the bed, his chest already heaving just from the slightest dance of your hands as they slide under his shoulders and shove the suit jacket off of his shoulders. Messily, hungrily, fervently, he crawls over the duvet and clinks his teeth desperately against your own. Once he’s above you, he uses a free hand to rustle underneath the rustled layers of your dress until he finds the square of bare skin where your upper thigh meets your buttocks. He scratches his fingernails teasingly underneath your panty line and squeezes firmly, making you groan into his awaiting mouth. He smiles, both fondly but with a hint of smugness, as takes your free hands and lifts them up towards his shirt buttons, guiding you to undo them with a heavenly pop after pop. He swears in that moment, as your hands glide out over his abdomen and massages the sides of his pecs, he would be content to die in your arms right there and then.
Kissing to wake him up every morning is literally what bliss must feel like. At six on the dot, you lean over on your side and gently kiss the top of his eyelids until they sleepily flutter awake. Bless his heart, the first thing he does every morning now is automatically smile; his arm reaches out onto your side of the bed before he’s even fully awake, seeking you out. It always makes you laugh, when his hand finally grips onto the side of your waist and tugs you further against him, because it was a little habit that had grown since your childhood years. When Kendall managed to sneak you in through his bedroom window, unable to sleep soundly by himself in his own bed, he would always start out feeling so self-conscious. Lying on his side, he faced out towards the open opaqueness and gilded shadows of his hollow room, his hands bunched up under his pillow. Even though he used to leave nearly a mile between the two of you on the silk sheets, he was so hyper-aware of making you uncomfortable: of scaring you off, if any part of him touched you. By the morning though, he always managed to kick and crawl and scrabble across the bed in his sleep. Although he was still to conscious to hold you fully, you would wake up to feel an intense pressure against the top of your back. Kendall’s head would be stoutly impressed upon your shoulder blade, his hands curled up and tucked against the small of your back and his legs raised against your hips as if he were a child curling up against his mother.
Now, though, Kendall’s finally content. He’s finally able to open up, to indulge himself in the only thing he’s ever truly wanted. He allows his cheeky side, his Roman-esque side to shine through by lulling you into a false sense of security. After a few minutes of you cradling his head against your bosoms and pressing kiss after kiss against the expanse of his head, he’ll jump up and pounce at you. You squeal as you scramble for an escape, trying to kick him off as you throw your hands to the floor and try to run your way towards the kitchen. He’s quicker though: not even a second passes before his arms tighten like a vice around your abdomen and he’s blowing wet raspberries against your throat. So infantile, so uninhibited, he drags you kicking and giggling back towards him so he can latch onto your bag and spoon you for a little while longer. You don’t complain when you feel him settle behind him, the heaviness of his leg as it reaches up and clambers against your own a welcome comfort. So is the feeling of his loving lips wiping a fond kiss against the nape of your neck.
Mhhh you bet those domestic kisses are godlike baby! The whole time you’re sliding around the kitchen trying to dump the takeout the two of you had decided to order on a tired whim onto plates, he’s holding you. His hands are thrumming against your waist as he presses against you from behind, singing into your ear a song the two of used to dance around to when you were younger. Every time you think he’s finally pulling away to maybe, you know, help by getting some cutlery or dumping the empty boxes in the recycling, he appears again to tickle you by licking gently behind your ear. You try to swat him off with a laugh, but that only seems to spur him on; the man is literally so deliriously happy he could cry. This. This domesticity. This fondness. This trust. You. It’s all he’s ever yearned for. Spent his younger years dreaming about. So you bet your ass he’s going to come sneaking up back behind you so he can tremble against your back as he pulls down the back of your shirt and leaves a few hickies proudly littered behind along your shoulder.
When the two of you finally settle at the dining room table to eat, to talk naturally like you’ve done a million times before over the years, you actually manage to surprise Kendall. Using your foot, you catch the edge of his sleek charcoal chair and pull him closer to you until he’s sitting by your side. It makes it far easier to grasp onto him when he shakily pours you a glace of wine and hands it to you, and definitely is a far more satisfying viewpoint to see how his tears well up when you take the wine glass from him and place it passively on the table. Unclenching his hand, you slowly kiss each knuckle one by one, raising them up to your mouth in the way someone may kiss royalty. He’s giddily smiling when you rub your thumb over the back of his hand, and he refuses to let go of you, even while he’s eating. As he turns back to try and cut up his noodles with the edge of his fork, you compassionately pretend you don’t notice him turn his head away from you for a moment, so he may sneakily try and wipe his eyes on the corner of his shirt.
On tougher days: when things haven’t been going well at Waystar, or his siblings have decided to barge in and try to stir up some new unwanted drama in his life, the sweetness and tentativeness of shower kisses are Kendall’s favourite. He will actually melt into a puddle of goo if you hold onto him, allowing him a moment to feel safe as the water cascades down and burns against his clenched eyes. He finds it difficult to be around water, so he may be a little panicky, but the feel of you wrapping yourself around his naked torso always manages to calm him straight down again. That is, until he gulps heavily at the feel of your lips kissing a trail up his inner chest to come tease with soft bites against his pulse point. He’ll wrap his arms around the curve of your spine, running them gingerly up and down as if he can’t believe this is still really happening.
When you rinse out his hair, he finally comes back to himself and blinks in amusement when you try to wipe away a few of the leftover suds from the tip of his nose with a short kiss.
Bro I mean- it also helps him immensely when he finally just like... snaps. When he can no longer hold back the growing pounding against the dam of his heart, and the desire that’s been eating him alive ever since he was a teenager comes cascading out. In a split second, your hands have been removed from where they were running soapy circles against his oblique muscles, and he’s pinned them harshly above your head. Taking a step towards you, he traps you against the steaming glass of the shower while his tongue explores the inside of your mouth. He pulls away, panting, before lowering himself onto his knees and kissing the inside of your thighs as he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder.
Sometimes you make him jump with your kisses, no matter how well intentioned they are. Kendall hates having to work inside his dad’s old office: suffocated by the smells, the sights, the overwhelming life that still bursts forth from the space and haunts Kendall, even in death. To try and help him relax, you’ll come sneaking in to kiss the back of his head, making him jump a country mile. With a smirk, he drops his phone down onto the desk and leans backwards slowly, raising his arm up until it latches onto the back of your head. Langurous, he leans his head back against the headrest until you fall down and softly press your mouth against his. Even though he can see Gerri and Karl give each other an unimpressed side-eye glance, he honestly couldn’t care less. In the end, Kendall would give all this up: everything he’s worked his whole life to accomplish. In the end, he couldn’t give a fuck if he made his father proud, if he was competent enough to earn being a Roy, if he lived up to the mantle of being the second-born eldest son. Of being the favourite. Because in the end, all Kendall Roy actually wants is you.
Being CEO also comes with its perks, though, like you being able to straddle Kendall’s waist and sit on his lap, the two of you squeezed into Logan’s old chair. His groans can reverberate hoarsely throughout the empty floor after ‘lights out’, only the poor cleaners being left to see the blinds to his office shake as something hits against them. With an unceremonious thump, the tie you had loosened and thrown falls onto a shelf full of open binders, soon followed by Ken’s shirt. He fidgets underneath you, bucking his legs up when you begin sucking against the bottom of his jaw, and it fills you with great pleasure to feel his hands clutching desperately into the meat of your hips.
The sweetest kisses shared are up on the company’s roof. Sometimes Ken is just having an off day, mentally, and needs some time to decompress away from everyone else. No matter where you may be in the building: no matter if you may be in a meeting, or at your desk, or just hanging around the breakroom listening to Tom and Cousin Greg discussing something with heated whispers in the corner, Kendall comes lumbering in looking crestfallen and immediately dismisses everyone in the immediate vicinity. They all scramble off like cockroaches, and Ken reaches out to take your hand. You offer it willingly, knowing what’s going on when he starts fiddling with the edges of your fingers. He folds into you in the elevator, clasping onto you and tucking into your side as you hold him against you, stroking back his hair. When the two of you finally arrive on the wide stretch of beige concrete, and no one can see him be weak, Kendall allows you to guide him down until he’s sitting between your legs. He leans back against your chest, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping onto your legs as he simultaneously feels the sharp sting of the wind and the feel of your lips against his temples.
Kisses at events are actually the best no joke like those married life vibes are off the chart. When Connor and Willa decide to have another, smaller vow ceremony in front of immediate family, everyone (even Shiv finally relents) thinks the two of you look so cute. Holding each other close at the edge of the country estate’s freshly manicured lawn, the fresh crunch of the dewy grass underneath your shoes is a welcome relief against the burn of Kendall’s hand as it caresses your own, holding it up by his side. The two of you can barely make each other’s eyes, falling into a fit of euphoric, infantile giggles that makes the other wedding guests stop and stare confusedly at the two of you. The kind glow of the varnished barn lanterns brushes over you and Kendall’s blushing cheeks, the lace-like wood work that winds up their edges illuminating over your bodies and making the two of you glow like you were sublime. Like a fool madly in love, he keeps snatching looks at you with that big, soppy smile of his, before pressing a kiss against your forehead. He leaves his chin there, sighing in contentment as he pulls your shared hand over till it’s resting against his heart, and continues swaying the two of you back and forth.
Ken has adopted this adorable little habit of letting you know when he wants kisses. He dips his head and looks at you like a forgotten puppy, taking your jaw in his hands and stroking his thumbs over your bottom lip and man does it just make you melt and indulge him straight away.
I mean my man has a literal lifetimes of kisses to make up for, and I’ll be damned if he isn’t going to grab onto every opportunity he can. Every touch, every caress feels like a fresh spring breeze, like sunlight caressing the curling corners of a brand new flower, like the cascading glimmers of light falling through the vastness of an unsurmountable ocean. It’s a renewal of life. Of hope. And in all honesty, it’s the main thing keeping the real Kendall Roy alive.
#succession#kendall roy#kendall roy imagine#succession imagine#kendall roy x reader#roman roy#shiv roy#kendall roy headcanons#succession season 4#jeremy strong#succession headcanons#tom wambsgans#greg hirsch#logan roy#succession fanfic#succession fanfiction#succession season 3#succession season 1#kendall succession#kendall succession imagine#kissing#kissing headcanons#x reader#gerri kellman#karl
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one thing about me is that i fully agree with every interpretation of the roy siblings age order. romanshiv twins? absolutely. roman middle child, shiv youngest? you bet. the reverse? also yes. somehow all three work and make complete sense to me
#idek if i have a personal hc for it at this point#i enjoy all the different interpretations depending on my mood tbh#succession hbo#succession#succession headcanons#roman roy#romanshiv twins#kendall roy#shiv roy#connor roy#tagging connor so he isn’t left out (again)
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since ken's full name is kendall logan roy, I headcanon the other sibs also have middle names because why not
connor is charles — logan's middle-name. which means it's most probably [logan's] father's or grandfather's. so then its connor charles roy!
shiv's most likely caroline (her mother) or helen (her grandma's) — i don't think logan would name his child after his wife tho, so im going with helen. siobhan helen roy!
roman's a bit more complicated imo because there's no other male figure in logan's life that he would care for enough to name his child after, so the options are either noah (his uncle) or ewan (his brother — uncle noah was abusive, it parallels to logan himself, but he wouldn't name his son after him. ewan, however, isnt a far-fetched option. yes, their relationship was strained, but he was still his brother, right? maybe just maybe he would name his son after his brother. thus, roman ewan roy!
#i could also see logan naming all his sons after himself#just because#fuck you logan roy#kendall roy#roman roy#shiv roy#connor roy#succession#succession hbo#succession headcanons
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stewy hosseini x (roy) reader headcanons!
one-shots will be coming soon! i thought i would try hcs first just to get a feel for writing on tumblr. lmk if you would want me to expand on any of these and there will def be more in the future. please enjoy and feel free to comment anything! also, would you guys want me to share my stewy playlist and why i chose each song...? enjoy lovelies <3
taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed!) @lukas-matsson @chaithetics @violentdelightsandviolentends @missdromeda
1. doing the buttons of his shirts because he gets distracted rambling about something
2. (secret relationship) texting each other during meetings! he def sends really flirty texts like “you look amazing today.” you would have to text something like “stop trying to eye fuck me across the room. people are going to talk” and he replies with something like “and i care because...?/let them talk” you roll your eyes in response and he just smirks watching you read it
3. you: “are you serious?”
stewy: “as a heart attack” ;)
you: *eye roll*
4. (pre-relationship) him being jealous (and crushed) whenever you bring a partner home to meet the family and you being jealous (and crushed) whenever you find out he’s in a relationship.
5. him smiling when he sees you’re calling and answers the phone by saying “hey, pretty girl”
6. him randomly sending or bringing you flowers for no reason even before you’re together. you ask him about it years into the relationship and he says he wanted to make sure you always felt appreciated even if he didn’t always say it. (your relationship def taught him the most and how to be a better partner cuz before you he was kinda a wallstreet douche but on the inside he’s a softie)
#stewy hosseini#stewy succession#stewy hosseini x reader#stewy hosseini x roy reader#arian moayed#arian moayed fanfic#stewy hosseini fanfic#succession#succession fanfic#succession x reader#succession headcanons#stewy hosseini headcanons#headcanon#new writer#first post
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So I’m a Shiv and Roman had crushes on Stewy while growing up truther and instead of making actual progress on my Logan-Caroline-Gerri-Baird at the Opera fic (which is mostly a Caroline and Gerri fic at this point) these headcanons about little Shiv fell out instead…
Headcanons below the cut include little Shiv, little Kendall, little Stewy, and cameo by Ralph the raccoon.
Shiv is 9 and exclusively interested in older men
It’s not a knock on other 9-year-olds
It’s not even a conscious decision
It’s just something she’s picked up about the way the world works
Something she doesn’t quite question
And that’s where Stewy comes in
Stewy isn’t just older, he’s older and cool – way cooler than Kendall (too cool for Kendall actually)
And while she can’t really remember a time before Stewy, she first notices him as a boy when she’s 9 and he’s 14
She doesn’t know exactly when or how it happened, but all of a sudden he goes from being Stewy to being Stewy, and her cheeks heat every time he says something to her
For the next month she tries desperately to hang out with him
Kendall, in typical older brother fashion, is appalled and locks his bedroom door every time Stewy comes over
He does everything he can to keep her out
(just like Dad keeps her out)
But Stewy isn’t like Ken’s other friends
Stewy is cool and gives Ken a look that makes Kendall sigh and let her into his room to listen to CDs with them
And it’s a little boring because all the music is kind of the same
But she relishes every second
Because the important part is she’s in
Stewy let her in
He doesn’t talk to her much, and Kendall spends half his time trying to get rid of her, but Shiv doesn’t care
She’s mature enough to know that being in the room is half the battle
And the fact that Stewy’s the one who got her there must mean something
She counts it as a victory and prepares for the next
Except a month passes
And then another
She turns 10 and nothing changes - it doesn’t go anywhere
And god does she try to make it
She creates elaborate situations designed to ensure she has some precious moments alone with Stewy
Moments where she tries to be her most charming, dazzling self
But every time it’s the same
No matter how much she bats her eyes, Stewy gives her a smile and goes back to waiting for Kendall
At first she thinks maybe he thinks she’s too young
So she tries to act more mature, hides her dolls and stuffed animals (she’d never had much interest in them anyway - Kendall was the one who had clung desperately to that stupid stuffed raccoon)
But, it doesn’t do anything
Stewy still treats her kindly enough - but not like a woman
Not like someone who matters
And then one day it clicks, and she feels like an idiot
All of Stewy’s attention is on Kendall
On Kendall’s eyes
On Kendall’s hands
On Kendall’s smile
Her visions swims red and her gut roils
Its Kendall
The only reason Stewy is here, the reason he’s kind, no not kind, polite, is because of Kendall
Because everything in the world is about Kendall
Everything
(Stewy)
(Dad)
She feels as if the door is slamming shut, closing her out even while she’s sitting on the floor of Kendall’s room
With them and totally alone - here and not, all at once
She’s never hated them both more
After dinner, Shiv sneaks into Kendall’s room and cuts off Ralph the raccoon’s tail
She hopes Kendall cries when he finds it
The next time she sees Stewy, she turns her nose up and leaves the room
The worst part? Stewy doesn’t even really seem to mind
#forever thinking about tiny angry Shiv who is always trying to project strength and indifference despite being a live nerve 85% of the time#also Kendall immediately forced the nanny to stitch Ralph's tail back on#kind of want to do a part 2 now about Roman's crush...#shiv roy#kendall roy#stewy hosseini#hbo succession#succession#succession headcanons
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Guys please don’t imagine Roman Roy finding a girl, probably someone in the one percent who understands growing up in a brutal business family. Don’t imagine them dating slowly, her accepting his sexual trauma. Don’t imagine him eventually proposing, baring his soul for the first time, opening up about his trauma. Eventually they have kids, he probably started his own media company. Don’t imagine his kids running around his office and unlike his dad he doesn’t yell, he takes a step back and lets himself be present with his kids. Don’t imagine that
#succession#roman roy#Logan Roy#succession Roman#romulus roy#romulus#roman roy au#roman roy imagine#succession hbo#succession headcanons
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so basically my finger started gushing blood this morning so I decided to ignore school and start a headcanon series
please let me know if you like them and want more!!! I’ll always take requests :)
cutting your finger
Kendall
ᝰ takes your hand and cleans it for you
ᝰ “quit squirming, it doesn’t hurt” while he has a cotton pad doused in saline solution clamped on the open cut
ᝰ carefully puts a bandage on it, admiring his work
ᝰ gets you a can of ginger ale
ᝰ “ken, it’s a cut.”
“i don’t care. drink.”
ᝰ leaves for work the next morning after kissing your forehead and demanding you “don’t do anything stupid”
ᝰ “it’s just a cut,” you say again.
“do you want to amputate your finger? just listen!”
Roman
ᝰ blood makes him squeamish
ᝰ you’re sitting there just watching your finger gush blood and he’s run across the room
ᝰ “can you at least get me a bandage?”
ᝰ flings you one from the kitchen like it’s an olympic discus
ᝰ doesn’t come back until the blood is gone
ᝰ “very helpful,” you say, a bit disappointed in him
ᝰ takes your finger and gives it a kiss
ᝰ “all better,” he tells you
ᝰ and it is all better
Shiv
ᝰ “oh, no, what’d you do?”
ᝰ you shrug and then you both realize you don’t have bandages in the medicine cabinet
ᝰ she takes a paper towel and wraps it around your finger
ᝰ “i don’t think this is doing anything,” you say, watching the paper towel turn red
ᝰ “i’m just staunching the blood flow!”
ᝰ “i don’t think you know what ‘staunching’ means.”
ᝰ you end up just sticking your finger under the sink’s hot water
ᝰ she makes dinner in apology
ᝰ kisses you before sliding you your plate
Tom
ᝰ sees it before you see it
ᝰ before you can even notice the blood he’s wrapping the tip of your finger in a bandaid
ᝰ “you need to be more careful,” he tells you, so deadass serious
ᝰ “what even happened?”
ᝰ you never saw the blood
ᝰ demands you change the bandage every three hours so you don’t infect yourself
ᝰ peppers your face in kisses
ᝰ “am i dying?” you ask him, suspicious of but loving the affection.
ᝰ “no, because i’m taking care of you.”
Greg
ᝰ “oh, look, i’m bleeding,” you tell him while you’re cuddling on the couch
ᝰ acts like you got hit by a bus
ᝰ “oh my god i have no idea what to do!”
ᝰ “greg, i literally wiped it and it stopped bleeding”
ᝰ “stay there, i’m going to target.”
ᝰ he comes back with a bunch of snacks and a box of minions bandaids
ᝰ “they’re the only ones i could find…”
ᝰ “they’re kind of cute.”
ᝰ just so he stops worrying, you stick one with the little fat minion onto your finger
ᝰ “thank god you’re okay.”
ᝰ you kiss his cheek, laughing
ᝰ you’re grateful he cares
Stewy
ᝰ “stew, can you grab a bandaid? i’m bleeding.”
ᝰ “oh, cool, let me see.”
ᝰ inspects your finger
ᝰ “sick,” he says
ᝰ puts the bandaid on for you
ᝰ it’s all lopsided; the sticky part is on the cut
ᝰ “you tried,” you tell him
ᝰ plants a sloppy kiss on your mouth
ᝰ you spend the rest of the night watching him play video games
ᝰ you wake up the next morning, the bandaid lost to your sheets
#succession headcanons#succession x reader headcanons#succession x reader#succession#succession hbo#wambsgansshoelaces#headcanon series#stewy hosseini#stewy hosseini x reader#greg hirsch#greg hirsch x reader#tom wambsgans#tom wambsgans x reader#shiv roy#shiv roy x reader#roman roy#roman roy x reader#kendall roy#kendall roy x reader
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I believe wholehwartedly that with every kid of the golden trio - Ken, Rome and Shiv - there has been a moment or multible moments when they were young (2 - 8 y.o) where they accidentally called Connor "Dad".
#succession#connor roy#kendall roy#roman roy#siobhan roy#shiv roy#hbo succession#succession theory#succession headcanons
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I have a request for Kendall!!!! I imagine him and the reader being on the verge of divorce and him being a possessive almost ex husband and making a scene every time a man breaths near the reader and them fighting and screaming at each other and then having the best make up angry sex of their lives.
Your mind is phenomenal, I hope you like it!
Marriage Make Up
Kendall Roy x f!reader smut 4.1k word count
You tried with Kendall. You really tried. It started with the coke. Which you could look past for awhile. Occasionally, suggesting various detoxes and rehab facilities, always trying to let him know you were there for him. Free from judgment. You knew who Kendall was when you married him, the addictions he struggled with. The trauma. However, the day you stood in front of him, your handmade white dress flowing, a traditional veil being lifted from your eyes to kiss him. You promised yourself you were going to be there for him. No matter what happened.
That was until the coke turned into ignoring all phone calls, never coming home, forgetting birthdays, and daily drunk 3am texts that clearly weren’t intended for you. You threatened Kendall that if this is how the marriage was going to be, you couldn’t be a part of it. But honestly they were empty threats. When you had made that initial promise, you meant it.
That was until the escorts.
You were awoken one morning by the ringtone of your phone, slowly blinking your eyes open as the sound grew louder. You threw your arm over searching to find the warmth of your husband's body sleeping next to you. Instead, being greeted by the now too common fabric of the cold sheets. You began rummaging through the pile of king size blankets searching your buzzing phone, eventually answering right before a call from Roman Roy went to voicemail.
“Hey! Seen your husband lately?” Roman questioned. Never beginning conversations with any kind of small talk.
“Oh yeah…Kendall, my husband” you scoffed. “At this point I have no idea if he is even still alive.”
“Oh he’s alive alright. All over the news actually… Billionaire Logan Roy's son, Kendall Roy seen leaving NYC restaurant with instagram model Claire Hane.”
Roman read aloud the headline cackling after almost every word.
“That girl is like, known to be an escort! What? Did you stop putting out?” He continued joking.
As soon as Roman had begun reading the headline your heart was pounding. Kendall in the news was rarely a good thing, and with every word out of Roman��s mouth you could feel heat rushing to your face as tears filled your eyes.
Choking on the lump in your throat you struggled to come up with a respond to Romans teasing. You wanted to act unbothered, like you were as heartless as any Roy sibling, unphased. But the tears already streaming down your face clearly proved otherwise.
“I…Fuck” you huffed finally managing to get something out of your quivering mouth. Everyone had warned you with patronizing eyes and scolding fingers when you married Kendall that he was inconsistent, unthoughtful, and “occasionally psychotic” his ex-wife even mentioned. However, you always waved their comments off with a smile. “Yeah, I know he has a lot going on, but I’m in love. And he can be really empathetic! I’ve never had someone take care of me the way that Kendall does. And not just with his wallet!” You explained over and over. Now all of your illusions were quickly shattering. Of anything he could do, cheating was not one you expected. Your sex life was great! At least, you thought. Maybe a little lacking lately, but that was hardly your fault seeing as though he was rarely home. Did he honestly need to pay for sex? Your confidence in him and your confidence in yourself were crashing down right in front of you.
“Look y/n, I’m sure it's not you. My brother is an asshole. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s been a shitty husband.”
Nearly forgetting Roman was on the other line you groaned at what you knew was his attempt to cheer you up. “Thanks Rome, I’m gonna go drink over my failed marriage. Bye.” you mumbled quickly hanging up before Roman got another chance to throw in a heartless joke.
Time appeared to be moving painfully slow after the disheartening events of this morning. After laying in bed clutching your chest and sobbing for what felt like weeks, you eventually pulled yourself into the bathroom. Confronted by your gloomy reflection of swollen eyes, still in shock this was all really happening. That Kendall would really be hiring escorts, and that you would find out from his brother! You decided the only way to distract your distressing mind would be a hot shower. Taking your time to delicately wash your hair and lather every inch of your body with the expensive body soap. Even though Kendall was richer than you could comprehend, you still had a habit of trying to preserve those things, never using too much. However, now all those little things were out the window. Who cares anymore if I’m just using him, you thought to yourself. Obviously he doesn’t.
You dried yourself off slowly taking the time to apply a sweet smelling lotion and your face moisturizer. Taking one last glance at your figure in the mirror and letting out a deep sigh. “Fuck him, I’m still sexy” you exclaim aloud at your reflection.
“Fuck yeah, you are!” You hear Kendall reply slyly behind you, looking back to see his suited figure leaning against the door frame. His eyes scanned your body from head to toe. You have no problem brushing off his remarks rushing to grab your white silk robe, covering your exposed body from him. Kendall was quick to pick up on your agitated reaction as you brushed past him.
“Okay. Yeah great what the fuck did I do now? Cause I know I didn’t leave any fucking drugs around the house.” he huffed, naturally jumping to defend his actions.
“Yeah, probably because you’re never here.” You mumbled quietly. You weren’t ready to fight about it. Not yet at least. You still felt too heartbroken to even scream at him, simply just wanting him to disappear until you were ready to confront the reality.
“I know I’ve been gone a lot y/n, but with my dad gone things at the office are just really starting to pick up and everything with Mattson, I mean…” his voice trailed off as you wandered around the room putting together a comfortable outfit. His rambling excuses eventually stopped when he looked at you and questioned,
“Uh babe the fuck are you wearing?”.
“God Ken, why do you even care? You’re leaving again tonight right?” you sneered. He’s never home, and then when he is home all he has is work excuses and a problem with your outfit, seriously?
“Um, we're leaving tonight. Waystar Charity Gala. One of my biggest opportunities to make a good impression as CEO. What, did you fucking forget?” He exclaimed.
“Fuck” you whined holding a finger to rub your temple.
You had totally forgotten tonight was the charity event, explaining why Kendall was home and finally paying any attention to you. Part of being married to Kendall Roy was putting on a play. Attending various events and red carpets draped over your husband's side performing as his beautiful, dotting wife. Although, honestly you never had to fake it. You genuinely did adore Kendall and it made you happy to make him look good, and brag about his accomplishments to his peers. And you were good at it! Always leaving every man in the room jealous of how happy you made Kendall, and every woman dying to take your place. But tonight you weren’t sure if you could handle that job. You couldn’t even make eye contact with him right now, let alone appear like you’re obsessed with him.
Kendall walked over to where you were sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at you. You resisted every urge to begin crying again, screaming at him about this morning's headlines. Although it was eating you alive, you knew that sobbing to him wouldn’t work on Kendall. The Roy’s were a different breed, and if you wanted to get to him, you really had to make him feel something. You looked up at his figure towering above you. Giving him soft eyes but maintaining the displeased frown on your face.
“Are you seriously this upset over me being busy? God I know, I’m sorry for being the world shittiest fucking husband!” he scoffed “ But I’m trying to take over a fucking company here y/n. Now, you knew what you signed up for when you married me, so we’re going to this fucking gala. And you’re going to be my loving wife, okay? You’re going to look beautiful, and you’re going to make me look good. Can you do that? Can you be a good girl for me?” his patronizing tone sinking deep into your chest. You knew he was half serious, half just attempting to intimidate you, and the good girl he had to throw in hoping it would finally get to you. And it did. Sending heat straight to your center. You gave a slow nod in response, not breaking eye contact. Although, this response was not enough for kendall as he roughly brought a hand under your chin “Say yes Kendall, thank you Kendall”. You repeated his words gently and even turned your head to leave a gentle kiss on his palm. His entire demeanor softened, you could easily play into his game now but you were already planning ways to get back at him throughout the night.
Your dress for the night was a striking dark blue, a slight shimmer radiating from the bottom, drawing all eyes down the velvet fabric that formed around your body nicely. The plunging neckline, a lower cut then you would usually wear. You nearly forget about Kendall as every head in the crowd turned in awe at yours and Kendall's arrival. Your beauty quickly becoming the topic of the event.
As you made your way through the party, Kendall snaked his arm around your waist breathing deeply into your neck, recognizing his favorite perfume of yours. Smirking as he whispered “You’re so good to me.” His words sent a chill down your spine. How could he so easily say things like that while he had another life going on? Your brain jumped between wanting to slap him, and completely surrendering to his touch. You wanted nothing more than to leave a soft kiss on his lips, lean your head into his shoulder and mean it. But you refused to give in so easily, letting his hands wander your body without returning any of the attention.
It seemed as though you had a spotlight on you, the way your dress glistened softly, your light smile drawing in awestruck gazes from every direction. Kendall analyzed every man who let their eyes linger on you as you passed by, his grip around your waist growing tighter with the minute. Although, he wasn’t saying anything you knew the increased attention surrounding you was driving him insane. Of course, Kendall's ideal night consisted of having the most desired woman in the room but tonight felt excessive. With men who had never spoken to him in his life stopping to shake his hand, clearly only for a chance to gain proximity to you.
You grabbed a champagne glass from a waiter before turning on your heel away from Kendall commenting “I’m going to go mingle.”
“What are you-” his question, cut off by quick disappearance into the crowd.
It was easy to charm the kind of men you find at these events. Whether they were married or single, younger or older all you had to do was act interested in their lives. Listen to them talk about how much money they make, throw in an innocent giggle and they’re easily under your control. Which made it easy to flirt with random billionaires throughout the room, but made for little true entertainment. Reminding you what you had first admired about Kendall. Although others rarely saw it, Kendall had depth. You two often would stay up till early hours in the morning pouring out endless streams of emotions to each other. He enjoyed deep conversations and sharing his daydreams. Kendall was made of much more than just Waystar inheritance money. Every other man in the room felt so…simple, so facile compared to Ken.
It wasn’t long until Kendall found you in the crowd again, eyes locked on some investor as he did his best to swoon you. He watched as you threw your head back in laughter, lightly letting your hand graze the man's bicep.
Kendall formed a tight fist as he felt a trigger go off in his head. Kendall spent his whole life competing. He definitely wasn’t going to let your attention be stolen by anybody else. In his mind when he put a ring on it, he won you. Besides you hardly paid attention to the people at these things, why tonight did you decide to put on such a performance while brushing off all of his advances? The jealousy of your lack of attention was piling on him like a ton of bricks. He knew he had been extremely negligent in the marriage department lately, and as much as he probably deserved to be cheated on after everything he’s done in his life, he didn’t think you would be so quick to throw yourself at other men.
He made his way over to you and the man stood in front of you, quickly sliding in closely next to you. “Thanks for keeping her company, man. Keep up the good work.” Kendall joked aggressively.
“Ah anytime, we’ve all seen what a busy guy you are, hate to see you leave this beautiful thing all alone.” The man scoffed back lightly, referencing today's news. You were always impressed by rich men's ability to be mean to each other without actually fighting, it was as if cryptic trash talk was their second language.
“Oh, I guarantee I can keep my wife very entertained” Kendall asserted.
You observed the two men wind each other up, pleased that your simple yet effective plan of making Kendall jealous was working. Eventually, the other man let up, leaving you two standing alone. Kendall’s chest was heaving in front of you, his large eyes scanning the room, and you could sense that he was trying to calm himself down. Resisting from making a scene. He knew he needed to stay longer, that he should spend the entire night networking with strangers, gaining the trust of possible donors, anything to earn respect as CEO. But as his anxieties regarding your displeased attitude began growing more unignorable, he wanted nothing more than to drag you out of the venue. Away from everybody's eyes, and against only his. Protected.
Kendall wasn’t saying a word to you, and you took your opportunity to wander off again to search for anyone semi handsome you could pretend to care about. However, your first step away from him was interrupted by a rough grip on your hand. You turned hesitantly, knowing you will be met with his distressed eyes, “I’m done with this fucking game. We’re leaving.”
The fighting began the second you walked into the apartment building. Not even making it past the lobby before Kendall was yelling out “So are we gonna fucking talk about this?”
“What is there to talk about Kendall? How you clearly have no desire to even be married to me? Why don't we start there!” You explained only to be met with a stunned
“What?”.
“You’re never fucking here Kendall! And if you are here you’re high, mad at me for being upset that my husband only ever sees me when he's coked out of his mind!”. You had never yelled at him like this, shocked at the amount of anger you could feel swelling in your chest.
“Oh and now you don’t even want to have sex right? You can just hire someone for that too! I hope eventually you can spend enough money on pussy and drugs to actually be happy Kendall!”. It was harsh, yes. You wanted to hurt him. Hoping maybe your words could compare to how it felt reading the headline.
“Fuck you. Okay, what the fuck are you talking about y/n?”
“The news, Kendall! I’m not fucking stupid! Everyone has seen your recent little public affair. Obviously, I don’t make you happy so please lets just do whatever the fuck we have to do to end this! I don't want anything from you, I don't care, I just don't fucking care anymore” you aggressively stammered on, raising your hands in defeat.
Kendall was sitting on the bed watching you pace the room. He didn’t realize that his dinner last night had made so many news articles, but they weren’t lying. He did meet up with an escort, thinking that fucking someone he didn’t care about might actually help him blow off some steam. But by halfway through dinner he had already made up his mind that he couldn’t follow through with it. Sure, she was beautiful and listened to him rant about work and his ex-wife. Nonetheless, his interest faltered with every coy giggle she let out. She wasn’t sarcastic like you, she didn’t push back or tease him. It was as if you were the only one bold enough to treat him like a real person, not just a possible paycheck. He left the restaurant with her but only to have her dropped back off at her apartment, giving a soft apology while still paying her the originally intended amount. He thought he could be like his dad, not give a fuck about anyone, use anything for his own pleasure. But he was positive his dick wouldn’t have been able to get hard all night, and trying only would have made it miserable for her and him.
“I didn’t fuck her.” Kendall finally huffed in response pushing himself to stand in front of you “I couldn’t fuck her! I’ll be honest with you y/n, I wanted to. But we never even made it past the fucking restaurant! I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You never leave me side y/n and I know I fucking put you through hell and back! I’m really fucked up, but I didn’t fuck anyone else!”
You weren’t sure whether to believe him. Regardless you would still be upset that he considered it. But there was something oddly sweet about a man who could buy any woman not being able to go through with it because of you. Kendall had slowly been stepping towards, and your hands laid gently at your side, unsure of what to do with all the information in your head, only to be met with a rough kiss from Kendall. You pushed him away exclaiming “Kendall, what the fuck? I’m so fucking pissed!” yet you were met again by his tight grasp around your waist and his lips returning deeply to yours. This time unable to resist the urge to give in and kiss him back.
“I know. You should be pissed. But I love you, I love you y/n.” he muttered in response against your lips. The sound of your shared panting filling the room as the passionate kiss continued. Kendall walked you backwards until you collided with the wall behind you.
“So fucking mad at you Ken!” you growled into his mouth as you both clawed each other's clothes, his arms raking down your backside squeezing your ass roughly and brushing the sleeves of your dress off your shoulders. Letting the fabric pool around your waist his mouth was quick to begin leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck, stopping to nibble gently on the skin between your neck and shoulder. You threw your head back as his mouth made contact with your nipple, he sucked harshly, pulling the skin lightly with his lips, and then soothing the sensitive bud by tracing circles with his tongue. His other hand working to undo the zipper holding up the remainder of your dress. You attempted to steady your shaking hands and loosen his belt and dress shirt but the feeling spreading from your nipples to your pussy was already causing you to struggle. When your dress pooled around your ankles, Kendall wasted no time in lifting you into his arms, legs instinctively wrapping around him as he sucked on your bottom lip. You could feel his bulge pressing firmly into your center as he trapped you tightly between him and the wall. His hips grinding, desperate to buck into you, causing a yelp to leave your mouth every time.
He moved his hands swiftly, lowering his dress pants enough to pull his cock out, rubbing the large bead of precum that was forming on his head between your folds.
“Fuck Ken!” You exclaimed as you felt his head pressing firmly against your slit. Kendall usually enjoyed taking his time, slowly working his cock into you, trying to make you as wet as possible before bottoming out. However, now you could feel him pushing in with no hesitation. Grunting as your lips squeezed tightly around him, giving you no time to adjust, only pulse as he pushed deeper. His cock had never felt so swollen inside you before. You weren’t sure if it was the time apart or the passionate argument but your pussy was yearning for every inch of him inside you, and to completely submit to his hold. But your brain still had the lingering thoughts of his actions.
“Why Ken? Fuck- why do you have to be like that? Why can’t we just talk?” You managed to moan out
“I don’t know why I’m so fucked up y/n” he grunted into your ear pushing the final inch of his length all the way inside of you. Both of you let out a sigh in unison as your bodies aligned perfectly together. Your legs spread wide for him as he held your ass in his palms, grinding deeply into you. With each thrust his pelvis softly nudging your clit driving your pleasure further.
Backing away from the wall, while maintaining his tight hold around you, Kendall walked your conjoined bodies over to the bed. Laying you down harshly against the edge of the mattress, pulling your hips quickly to meet his, pushing his dick deep back inside you. He collapsed into your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your chest. He fucked into you at a brutal pace, you were unable to controls the cries that left you lips each time his thick head brushed against the sensitive spot along your walls.
“Ken please- I need you” you whined scratching your nails down his back searching for anything to hold onto while the knot in your stomach tightened.
“I want to be better, baby. I can be better for you. I promise” He groaned deeply into your neck, his words so easily seducing you back into completely trusting him again.
“I want you home Ken, I want- ughh you” you managed to moan out breathlessly. As your orgasm drew closer, so did your thoughts about missing Kendall. You just wanted to tell him how much you loved him, how much you needed him but all that left your lips was a loud cry as you felt your pussy finally release on his cock.
“You’re making me cum! Fuck Ken oh my god, wait wait I-…” you yelped.
Your hand reached between your legs pressing your palm to his stomach as your overstimulated pussy throbbed harshly around him. He maintained his brutal pace, holding your hips in place as you squirmed against him.
“Just a little more baby, you can take me. That’s my girl” he cooed, his hands straightening your legs over his shoulder. His hips snapping against your ass, eyes never leaving yours. Watching in adoration as your eyes shut closed, but your mouth remaining open, drool falling down your chin as the pleasure slowly became too much.
With a few more powerful thrusts Kendall was releasing deep inside you. Allowing himself to collapse completely into your warm body. Shallowly grinding his hips to ride out his passionate high. Waiting until he felt your walls stop throbbing around him. Allowing both of your breathing to relax before he eventually pulled out with a long sigh. Kendall looked down at you fucked out face. His thumb brushed your cheek gently, then ran it along your bottom lip. He thought you always looked so beautiful with your cheeks flushed pink, hair wildly flying around your face. Arms reaching up searching for his protection. He wasn’t ready to give up on another marriage, not when the make up sex was like this, he laughed to himself. He gathered you in his arms scooting your bodies up the bed, until he was comfortably holding you.
“I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
#succession season 4#kendall roy#kendall roy x reader#kendall roy smut#succession#succession headcanons#succession smut#kendall roy oneshot#kendall roy x you#roman roy#kendall roy fic#kendall roy headcanon
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“He never gets anything great from Kendall, but he Always comes when he calls”
I think I’m gonna be sick
#hbo succession#stewy hosseini#kendall roy#succession hbo#kenstewy#kendall x stewy#succession headcanons
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Roman Roy (Succession) Fluff Alphabet
Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader
Rating: Pure Fluff
Word Count: 4.9k
Author's Note: thank you so much to the lovely person in my inbox that requested the Fluff alphabet for Roman, you are an absolute genius 😍 this boy is crying out for 26 affectionate letters and here they are! Thank you to everyone else who has sent in Roman and Kendall requests during the new season, I am working through them ☺️♥️
a - affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)
Affection is hard for Roman Roy. He needs it, he craves it, he looks at you with sad, longing eyes until he gets it. And then when you wrap him in your arms, and pull him into your lap, letting your lips rest against his forehead ever so softly...he withdraws. He makes a quip and he's halfway across the room, panicking about the possible display of weakness, and steeling himself never to do that again. Until an hour later his head is slowly lowering onto your shoulder again and the cycle continues.
It will take months in your relationship before he finally lets himself just be held, and starts to initiate it himself; bringing his hand gently to the side of your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek while he leans in for a kiss, ignoring the warning bells going off in his head and just enjoying that he gets to do his with you. And how nice it is when you smile and kiss him right back.
b - beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do you think is beautiful about them?)
Roman thinks you are the most beautiful person he's ever seen, not because of the way you look, although he loves every inch of you, but because of who you are. The patience you have when he doesn't know how to do something simple because he was never taught. The warmth in your smile when he makes a dumb joke that makes him desperate to think of another. The way you move around him is calm and gentle, and every touch is soft, and no matter what, he never feels scared around you. Not even for a second. In fact when he looks into your kind eyes and you offer him a soft, warm hand, he feels truly safe. And for that you are a true vision of beauty, like a real life angel come to save his wretched soul and lead him to salvation.
c- cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)
d - dates (what are dates with them like? do they plan them out or are they spontaneous?)
Once the initial back and forth of trying to accept your affections is over, Roman will be big on cuddling you. Only ever in private, but he will practically collapse into your arms at every possible chance, losing the use of his spine the second you both settle down on his huge designer sofa, laying over the top of you so he can hear your heart beat with his ear to your chest, a constant grounding reminder that you're real and you're here with him. Run your fingers through his slicked back hair and rub gentle circles on his back and you've got a personal heated blanket for life. In public Roman is much less obvious with his affections, having to settle for leaning his shoulder subtly against yours for reassuring contact, hand trembling with anticipation the whole time.
e - ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Not one for planning, dates with Roman would definitely be on the spontaneous side, and honestly probably a little weird to start with. He's never really 'dated' before, usually relying on Roy family events and galas to act as occasions to bring his 'plus ones' to. But with you he wants to do this for real, so he reluctantly asks Tom where he took Shiv on dates before 'their marriage imploded killing thousands.' He'll try the usual spots like museums, galleries, restaurants, constantly asking you what he's supposed to do next like he's missing something while you walk around together. Eventually you'll show him how it's done, setting up a blanket fort with movies and take-out in your humble apartment and teaching him that the only thing that matters about a date is that you get to spend some time comfortably together.
f - fiancée (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)
Roman's the type of guy to overact to the smallest fight, make a cutting comment and then saying it's over, charging out the door before the other person can fathom a reply. He'd no doubt grow to regret his hasty decision after a while, but feel like going back would be showing weakness, resigned to moving on with his life. Luckily he knows you are far too important to risk losing, so even when he's desperate to slam the door and run away, he makes himself stay, knowing he never wants you to be someone he has regrets about.
g - gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
It would start with a comment from Connor after he's seen you with Roman at a few family functions, about how happy he seems with you, and how 'he didn't think his little bro would ever settle down, but to let him know when he needs the number of a good wedding planner.' Roman would panic at first, brushing him off with a sick joke about how he likes to 'live in more sin than Connor could imagine', and spiralling with the thought that everyone's expecting him to get married any day now, including you. He'd turn the thought over in his head while hiding in one of a hundred mansion bathrooms, feeling suffocated and left adrift at the same time. Like he has no choice but to ask soon because it's what's expected even if he doesn't want to, while also desperate to give you a ring that very second in case you think he never will and that'll make you leave him. After 15 minutes of hyperventilating on the toilet, Roman emerges from the bathroom to find you loitering down the hall. The second you give him that kind, reassuring smile and ask if everything's okay, he knows he's going to ask you, not because he should but because he wants more than anything for you to always look at him that way. It'll take him a while to build up to it, but he'll know pretty soon that it's only a matter of time.
h - hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)
Roman is simply the softest boi. A lifetime of being his family's punching bag mean he never wants anyone else to feel that way, so every feather-light touch will be delivered with a shaking hand, whether he's carefully steering you through a crowded room so you can both get safely to a quiet moment together, or he's caressing your arm before leaning in for a surprisingly sweet kiss. Aside from the obligatory snarky comments, he's gentle with his words too, going out of his way to thank you for the slightest favour, the tell you how nice it feels when you praise him, when you touch him, to always let you know that he's thinking about you, even when his head is full of Roy family toxic waste. Be sweet to Roman, the first true act of kindness he's ever really received, and you will get a kind, soft, sweet boy in return, whose been waiting his entire life for the chance to freely show this softer side of him.
i - injury (how would they act if they got hurt?)
You can tell Roman grew up touch starved and alone because every time you hug him he stands there, rigid as a board for a spilt second and then melts into your arms like he's been waiting for that feeling his whole life. Like with his need to cuddle, he's all over you at the end of a long day, collapsing into your arms, or pulling you on top of him to feel like he's offering that loving comfort back to you. His hugs are always long and slow, bodies entwining as much as possible, limbs wrapping around you until you can't escape his grip if you try, the comforting teddy for a wounded inner child.
When Roman gets hurt, no matter how accidental it may be, it's truly heartbreaking. The second you start to fuss and check he's okay, and apologise if it was you who slightly knocked him, he shuts down, withdrawing in on himself and turning all his pain inwards. He'll tell you it's fine, it's all his fault, he was in the way, you were right to hit him, he was being annoying, he's the one who should be apologising. It'll take a long time to slowly teach him that he never deserves to get hurt, and that he can accept your help safely, you're not going to tease him or make it worse, that it's all going to be okay. One day Roman will come crawling to you for help when he's not feeling well and it will take everything in your power not to cheer and cry with pride as you wrap him in a blanket and steer him back to bed.
j - jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)
When you're hurt or injured I'm afraid Roman's useless. He's upset, he's overwhelmed, and you have to calm him down and give him very simple instructions if you need his help, praising him for each favour and telling him he's doing a good job at looking after you when he takes 45 minutes to successfully make a cup of tea.
k - kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to be kissed?)
Jealous Roman isn't loud or angry or the kind to make a scene. No, the first time he feels the green-eyed monster weighing down on his shoulders at some Waystar Christmas party, you the centre of attention for the half the fellas in the office, he just feels hollow. Despondent even. Like he was stupid for ever thinking he'd be able to keep you interested, that you wouldn't get a hundred better offers and realise you deserve better than the runt of the pack. By the time you see him skulking off down a corridor out the corner of your eye, he's all but resigned to you leaving here without him, feeling like he's nothing until you chase him down the hall, shouting his name with a cheerful tone that stings his heart even worse. He'd throw out some snarky line about' how he didn't think you'd notice him slip out through the fuckboy posse holding you hostage.' You'd laugh, but see the hurt underneath it, taking his hand in yours and asking if he's ready to get out there, or if he wants to go back in the main room and get inappropriately handsy with each other where everyone can see. He'll always choose to slip away quietly, but he wouldn't mind if a few of the guys from the office notice you two leave together.
l - love language (what is their love language?)
It took a long time for Roman to really ever want to kiss someone, so it still takes him a little by surprise when he has the overwhelming urge to feel your lips against his. At first his movements are awkward, his arms straight by his side as he presses his mouth a little too firmly against yours. Over time, you help him relax into it, letting your fingers rest at the nape of his neck and slowly moving your lips against his, letting him savour the taste of you and gradually chase each movement at his own leisurely pace. Once he gets the hang of it expect to constantly find him pulling your hips against his and cupping your face to gently bring your lips together, his tongue dancing over yours until you have no choice but to break for air, his eyes soft and loving as you pull your head away, knowing it won't be long until he needs to feel you close again.
I think the big two for Roman would be Acts of Service and Physical Touch. I think he's not gonna care that much about gifts given he's never really wanted or needed anything he couldn't get immediately, and he's constantly being lied to and manipulated, so just saying nice things doesn't affect him as much as truly showing him. He loves your quality time together, but the right five minutes with you can completely turn his day around.
For Physical touch it's already been covered, but give his hand a squeeze, his hair a gentle touch, his cheek a kiss? You'll have this boy melted into a puddle immediately. He's been so used to touches being rough or causing pain, that your soft, loving embrace is one of the ways he knows you truly love him, and he truly loves you.
m - mornings (how are mornings spent with them?)
Brought him a bottle of water because you notice he doesn't drink much? Brought his favourite shirt from his apartment because you knew he'd be sleeping over and you wanted him to feel his best the next day? Something as small as putting toothpaste on his brush and handing it to him before doing the same with your own would have him staring at you like you rearranged the stars for him alone. He can't believe you would go out of your way to do something for him, when you have to take care of so much more in your day to day life, so every tiny favour and gesture would make him desperate to try and make you feel that same joy. Even if he would most likely go overboard ranging from buying you a robot vacuum because you don't like cleaning to buying your apartment so you never have to pay rent again.
n - nights (how are nights spent with them?)
Roman is absolutely not a morning person. When he sleeps over be prepared to wake up to a very grumpy face, groaning in protest about the blaring alarms coming from both your phones. He'll insist on pulling the plush layers of duvet quickly back over the both of you, blocking out the daylight and the rest of the world in favour of just the two of you staring into each others eyes as slowly his demeanour starts to thaw and he accepts that you both need to get up. He'll steal a quick kiss for motivation before racing into the kitchen, putting on the coffee machine he has now very proudly learnt to use so he can feel useful in the mornings while you pull some breakfast together.
o - open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
Before you came into his life, most of his nights ended with him crawling into bed alone, slightly tipsy, mentally replaying all his perceived failures that day. Now his bedtime is preceded by 45 minutes of hassling you; lying on top of you on the couch so you can't get up for bed, hiding your pyjama top as you start to get changed and claiming he has no idea where it is, but you look great so he wouldn't worry. Once you finally get into bed prepare for an endless monologue of little thoughts and insights, the light flicking back on every time you try to turn it off until eventually he lulls himself to sleep, curling up right next to your back, no matter how much space is free on the kind sized mattress.
p - patience (how patient are they usually? what tends to wear their patience thin?)
Roman's openness is very similar to that of a specific kind of mysterious local corner store/bodega: Never open when you think it should be, but sometimes you'll happen to be walking past at an ungodly hour and it will be open AND have the exact niche thing you need, following seemingly no pattern for its operating hours or inventory. In the same way, sometimes you will ask Roman a simple, first-date level, personal question and get nothing in response but a snarky line and cold shoulder. Then at 2am you'll find him at your door with a story from childhood that leaves you in tears and his favourite candy because he wanted you to know that about him after all. It's a bit of trial and error getting to know Roman, but as he slowly learns that his thoughts and secrets are safe with you, then he stops locking the gates to himself and starts giving you a key to let yourself in.
q - quality time (how do they like to spend with you?)
Being a Roy means you rarely have to wait for anything that you want, and growing up surrounded by short fuses. This makes Roman a little bit quick to throw out a cutting remark and start to get snippy when things aren't going his way. He hates that part of himself though, and wants to be more patient and understanding like you, so he's quick to apologise, sometimes going a little overboard with the apology to show just how much he means it (like when he got a telling off from Logan for sending a hundred bouquets of tulips to your desk, disrupting Waystar for the afternoon and throwing the Dutch economy into turmoil.)
r - remember (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)
Like how it was unnatural for Roman to start going on dates with you, given how little of his free time he's ever really been in control of, spending time together also starts off a little uncomfortable for him. Sure when you're at work at Waystar he's happy to just sit on the floor by your desk, chatting shit and ignoring the strange looks for passersby as they try to have normal work conversations with you. And if you go to a cafe or a bar after work and just spend your time talking about nothing and laughing at each others dumb one-liners then it's as easy company as Roman's ever known. It's when he tries to plan every second, desperate to make sure you don't get bored that you have to slow him down and take him by the hand and ask him what he actually feels like doing with your rare Sunday off, the response to which is pretty much always "Can we just do, like, fucking nothing?" Which you are more than happy to join him in, lounging across his living room while the TV blares in the background and you just enjoy being in each others comfortable company.
s - security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)
The first birthday he celebrated with you, before you were really an item, and you made him actually feel like this birthday was actually something worth celebrating. I have a whole section on this in these headcanons.
t - try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Growing up Roman always wished there had been someone around to protect him from his father and his family and the expectations of the Roy family name and now you do that for him effortlessly with your support and patience and kindness. So when Roman gets the chance, he's so determined to play the role of protector, making sure no one can ever make you feel like they have him. Be prepared to be the one reason Roman will stand up to his family and not let them lead him along, stopping any sly comments before they start. And when the inevitable workplace rumours start about the two of you, he'll find whoever dared start them and give them a stirring speech about how it would take him less than three phone calls to completely ruin their life, meaning suddenly no one at work has any opinion on your personal life. In return Roman wouldn't ever want you to stand up for him in an obvious way, he doesn't want to be accused of not fighting his own battles. Instead just protect his heart afterwards, piece him back together when he's broken down, remind him you still think the world of him, and you'll easily be his hero.
u - upset (how do they act when you’re upset? how do they act when they’re upset?)
Poor Roman really feels the pressure when it comes to special occasions. He's got all the resources in the world, but frankly a supreme lack of practical skills. He'll try to follow a recipe from a Michelin starred chef, only to realise nothing looks like it does in the video and now something smells like burning, and you'll be home any minute and the surprise will be ruined. You'll find him crouched under the dining table in tears while the smoke alarm blares, devastated because 'he can't do anything right, and you're going to realise that and run.' A few well timed kisses and a reminder that you know he's extraordinary even if he's not much of a cook, and that you're not going anywhere and he'll be back on his feet again in no time. While he might struggle with the big events, on a day to day level he always puts in the effort, coming to find you at every event and work day, learning how to do simple things to make your life easier, and genuinely being a surprisingly good person to live with when he sleeps over, something that doesn't go unnoticed by either of you.
When Roman's upset it takes a long time to try and coax it out of him, his instincts to just stuff it down and make a joke bubbling up to the surface initially. But slowly he'll learn that a problem shared is a problem halved and he'll start offering up his troubling thoughts before they overwhelm him and lead to a full breakdown.
v - vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)
When you're upset, Roman is surprisingly empathetic. He likes that he gets to be the person to tell you it's going to be okay, and to listen to whatevers troubling you, rather than another source of vicious mockery when he's spent his whole life surrounded by that. He'll rage about how much bullshit things are when they're not going your way, wrapping his arms around you and grumbling adorable 'oh nos' into the top of your head until you can't help but crack a smile.
w - wildcard (a random headcanon for them)
Roman's never been hugely fussed by fashion or trying to look a certain way, he's had the same haircut since he was 19 and while he sometimes wishes he was as tall as his brothers, mostly he's more concerned with what's on the inside when it comes to his self-love, or self-loathing. That being said, if you were to call him handsome he'd spend the rest of the day with a cocky grin on his face and checking himself out proudly in every single reflective surface he walked past.
The first time you held Roman Roy's hand was a complete accident; he'd been walking backwards up a flight of stairs in front you, so he could continue the conversation he was enjoying so much with you that he didn't dare look away for a second, and almost tripped straight onto his butt. Luckily you managed to catch him by the hand at the last second, and as you pulled him back to his feet it was like his entire world stopped spinning for a second. The soft, warm feeling of your skin meeting his, the gentle squeeze of reassurance as you laughed at his lack of coordination, the couple of seconds too long he kept hold of you for, feeling like his blood was finally reaching his heart, hammering in chest for the first time he could remember. He was obsessed. He thought of nothing else for the next two days, staring down at his own palm to make sure the surge of electricity in his body hadn't left a mark when you'd touched him.
So he made a plan to feel that same way again, using the characteristic he was most confident about possessing; being annoying. He slunk over to your desk as usual, trying to hide the little smile he seemed incapable of wiping off his face whenever he saw you. You were focusing on your work, but gave him a little smile as he sunk on to the carpet next you, feeling his gaze fixed to your hand where it sat moving your mouse to and fro. He started the conversation as usual, complaining about the charity event he went to last night, describing every awful interaction he endured, whining about how much work he had to do today, despite being sat by your side. However every so often he'd slide his hand across your desk and nudge your mouse just as you were about to click. The first time you assumed it was an accident. Then every few seconds he did the same thing, pretending not to notice it was happening. Finally you noticed that every time he did it, he smiled a little at the contact with your hand, fondly remembering your stairwell embrace.
x-ray (how easily are they able to read you?)
So, hoping to succeed in his bizarre little game, the next time his hand moved to nudge yours, you moved a second earlier, capturing his hand in yours and threading your fingers through his. His giddy little giggle at your action confirmed your assumption about his motivation, so you spend the rest of the afternoon awkwardly trying to use your mouse with the wrong hand, while Roman happily clung to your other one, sighing happily every time you ran your thumb softly over his, content to spend the rest of his days right there.
y -yuck (what things do you do that they hate?)
This is not easy for Roman since he's used to being in a room full of people hiding their true motivations and playing verbal chess to try and get a few moves ahead. If you're having an off day, Roman might pick up on those vibes, but honestly he'll just assume he's done something wrong, and start trying to make it up to you somehow. You'll have to be a bit direct with Roman, but he'll always do his best to do what he can to help once he knows what you're thinking.
z - zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)
While Roman loves being on the receiving end of your kindness and love, it makes his skin crawl when he sees you genuinely getting along with Connor and Willa. You can't help but find Willa genuine and interesting, and while Connor might be delusional and certainly not fit for the presidency, he doesn't lie and manipulate like the other Roys and enjoys having someone who really wants to hear about his camping trips with Roman and the parts of his youth that he rarely gets to remember fondly. Roman feels like there's something hideously wrong with the picture when he finds the three of you sat at the back table of a gala, avoiding business talk and just being human beings, but that's only because he doesn't understand that you and Connor have something very important in common; loving Roman.
No son of Logan Roys was ever to be permitted sleeping with a stuffed animal, so despite a childhood of nightmares and fear, Roman never had a teddy growing up. As an adult he's rarely spent the night alongside someone he truly cares about and trusts, so the first time he sleeps over you wake up to find his little fists clinging to you, like you might somehow drift out to sea in the night. When he realises he immediately apologises and makes a joke about 'not wanting you to swipe his wallet while he slept', but night after night you two always wake up to him holding onto you for dear life, to the point that you'll hold his hand as soon as you get into bed and watch him drift off to sleep so much easier. Bonus tip: when he gets sent halfway across the world on business and can't bring you with him, get him one of those special teddy bears you can record a message in and, once he's made a hundred ultra-masculine jokes about how ridiculous and creepy it is, it will become his prized possession.
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I’m Annoying / Roman Roy Headcanons
Request: heyyyyy, it's me, Roman Roy Hurt-Comfort Ambassador again, i have a request. so imagine him and reader having a playfight, and for a second it seems like reader swings at him (which of course isn't the case, they just made an awkward hand gesture or something), so rome just.... flinches and covers himself. like he's completely accepted that the person he loves is going to really hit him because he's annoying and he went too far and it was too good to be true anyway and and and. i'm extremely normal about him can you tell
Anon my love are you trying to emotionally destroy me?? Ily honestly giving me the hurt/comfort we all need I will do my best not to devastate you!! <3
If you enjoy, please leave a comment! I’ve been finding it hard to write at the moment, so they are all much appreciated :)
Warning: mentions of physical abuse, emotional trauma, blood and injuries, and strong language!
(I do not own Succession or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @romanroy.)
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°
Roman couldn’t quite remember the first time he had tasted blood in his mouth.
It had just... always sort of being an inevitable consequence of being Roman Roy? The second-born third son, destined to always be mocked, to commit fratricide, to destroy and to take and to build and to ruin, to build up the roots left by his father. And yet, he was always quivering. Weak. Pathetic. The son tossed aside for Remus.
Perhaps the first time had been when he was five years old, he wasn’t entirely sure. There were just far too many instances to count, although this was the first memory of his father’s vexation he still had. On holiday in some European resort near the tip of Scotland that his father had booked out so only they were around, Kendall had egged Roman into believing it would be hilarious if he nudged his father into the crystalline pool during an important phone call. The blood splatter that came shooting out from his nostrils afterwards had flown far enough to reach the straw top of one of the poolside Tiki bars. In fact, his nose bled so heavily afterwards that even a young Kendall began to cry through his panicked apologies, as he stuffed napkin after scrunched up napkin against his wailing brother’s face; he was so unsure as to why his mother just gritted her teeth at the noise, and with a final glance at their father, sat down again in one of the deck chairs.
Yet it could have also been the first, and last oboe recital Roman had ever done for his parents, or anyone for that matter as he gave it up soon afterwards, a few months after their return to America. When he had messed up a breathless note, shaking so violently in fear on that hand knotted silk rug, that he felt himself untangling on it. Despite the panicked waved encouragement and stricken facial expressions his mentor had been throwing him from the edge of the doorway, the silence was deafening in the vastness of the lounge room once he finished. It was the first time his father had ever called him a moron, at the ripe old age of six, and he could hear his sister snickering from where she was hiding behind the opposite gold-handled door. Growing enraged at the sound, his father had called the hit an accident, of course. And so had Roman, when the reed of the instrument he grew to detest pounded him across the bottom of his jaw, and he bit his tongue hard enough to see stars. He hadn’t been able to talk for a couple of days, and both his father and older brother called it an accidental miracle, and Roman had laughed repellently at the dinner table in agreement.
But when Roman had crawled under his bed that night to hide, and had tucked his knees up to his chest to bury his face within the harsh comfort of his kneecaps, he wasn’t so sure anymore.
After all these years, he had been brought back round to the light again. Now he was. Now he was. He was stupid, and pathetic, and undeserving, and so, so fucking annoying, that he finally understood that this was all just his father’s way of improving him. Shaping him. Loving him. Turning him into a real man, instead of being the little puppet boy any longer.
Which is why, even now here with you, even the slightest jolt at his memories made him so confused, and so scared. Because it wasn’t his mother who had come in all those nights to find out how he was doing; it was you who had snuck out from your house nearby to brave the challenge of evading his family and climb up the bronze pipe that led up to his agape bedroom window. It hadn’t been his brother who had searched through the rooms for him, desperate and enthralled as he tore sheets out into the air and threw books onto the ground as he peered through the shelves. Nor was it his sister who finally had their heart broken by the gentle sound of hushed crying: as haunting as a wounded creature left to fend for itself, emanated from the darkness of the corner floorboards. And it certainly, certainly was not his father who crouched slowly down by the side of his bedframe, and with one hand on the wood peered down into the nothingness.
The only person who mattered to Roman knelt down and nearly started crying themselves, as you caught sight of the young child rocking back and forth on the dusty floor. He was shivering like a leaf as he gazed despairingly at you, and his fingers were hesitant to break through the gloom and take the hand you had outstretched to him. Even now, so many years later in your shared apartment, and despite so desperately being in love, he still felt like repelling backwards when he touched you: to fall back into that sweet twilight, where he could coax himself into believing the shadows were made of light. It was as if he were afraid he would mar your skin, or worse, that you would scar his, after his father had spent so many years moulding it to be perfect.
It had started at first like any other normal night: you and Roman were clambered up on one of the fireside settees, him scrolling through his phone to check the news, and you on your laptop checking out your work emails for the final time that night. Roman, even growing up, had never been very comfortable showing physical affection with anybody, even though he so tirelessly reached out for it, and so you knew it meant a lot coming from him to be sitting with his shoulder resting tightly against your own. With his suit jacket left forgotten on the phone, he was as relaxed as a Roy could be as he took your arm and barked a laugh, leaning in to share his screen and point at the newest campaign meme trending about his brother. You squint, and take it out of his hand to try and get a better look at the small text and moving gif, but you catch Roman by surprise. His mouth opens in fake shock, and with a little ‘hey, you little fucking asshole’ he affectionally kicks his socked feet at your legs like a bouncing marionette puppet.
You drop your laptop to the floor and grab onto his tie before he can make any proper contact, pulling him towards you by the scruff of his neck. With surprised, yet wild eyes, he happily obliges. He eggs you on as you fall the two of you backwards onto the cushion, crawling over you like an insect until he’s near straddling you, and his chest is tight against your own. His shirt buttons strain against the salmon material as he lifts himself back up onto his hands, stretching out past your head to try and grab his phone back. Only the sound of his strained giggling, and your unbridled laughter is heard through the empty hallways, before the sharp inhale of Roman’s breath breaks the familiar intimacy, and safety shared between the two of you.
You had tried to throw the phone when Roman got a little too close to grasping it, aiming it towards one of his father’s old, second-hand armchairs by the window. Roman, however, didn’t register your intentions straight away. All he had seen was a hand, and a metal object, flying straight towards his face.
It’s almost immediate, his response. He shirks back from you as if he had been slapped clean across the cheek.
You drop your hand back down to your side immediately, your other coming up to cover your mouth in disbelief. Roman begins to breathe heavily, not moving, although he does flinch away from you when you dare to bring a tentative finger up to brush against the edge of his cheek, right against where his last fading bruise lay. He heaves backwards all of a sudden, leaving you nearly toppling to the floor as he takes a step backwards and straight back onto that silk rug again. The pleas come quick, and easy, and apologetically, and he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the fact that you sounded remorseful.
‘Roman - I promise, I swear to god I was just trying to throw it, I would never. I would never. Fuck! I’m so sorry- I-’
You take a reaching step towards him, and his face hardens. With his father, the pain had always been self-righteous. Right now, he believes you - of course he does, you’re the love of his life. You’re honest, and true, and every kind value his family had never possessed, and yet his father’s voice still taunted him from the recesses of his head. That expectant boom. That god of war. That part deeply innate within him, that through the adrenaline rush of fear as the hand had come flashing towards his face, had simultaneously whispered whispered that this was his comeuppance.
This time, though. This time was worse, because the self-affliction came easy. He was turning into his father: doing his job for him, when his incisors had torn into his gums harder than Logan’s fists ever could. He started choking, and although you reached out to try and help him he held a hand out as if warning you to back away. Although some blood was seeping down the poison chamber he called his throat, he could feel the leash around his neck tightening as he raised his arm to itch the back of his head, willing himself not to cry. They ignored his pleas as he bent over, raising the back of his trembling hand to his mouth and wiping away his own self-infliction of his father’s love with his thumb.
‘This is fine - this is so fucking fine. I’m fucking annoying, so like - I don’t blame you.’ He sounds faux cheery as he swallows, raising both hands out to his sides as he stares heavily down at the floor.
He seems to sink then: like a swallow falling to the earth during a thunderstorm, he squats down until he’s finally on his hands and knees, and then finally sitting cross legged on the floor. For a moment, he’s stock still, until survival mode seems to kick in and he begins to toddler crawl his way behind the sofa, too big a boy now to fit himself in and hide underneath it. But he still tucks himself against the itchy material like he was fifteen again, hiding in the east wing of his home when he had told one of his father’s creepy associates to ‘go fuck themselves sideways’ when they had got a little too chummy at a conference dinner, and they had immediately gone squealing to the king and executioner.
He was thirty five, and he was five, and he felt like a piece of meat, and he felt like the most powerful man alive, he was his father’s puppet, and his father’s saviour. and he was disgusting, and perfection, and more than he ever was destined to be, and still less than his father deserved. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to feel this way anymore.
He tucked his forehead in between his knees, and allowed himself the decency to just feel whatever he needed to feel openly. To cry, and mumble curses in rapid incomprehensible succession, and to beg. Then he becomes angry, like fucking furious for a minute, as the tears quickly dry and the scowl of his father haunts his juvenile face.
It takes him a moment to register the pressure of your hand gently caressing his arm, and it cleaves your heart straight in two to feel him throw you off. Not unkindly, just in a terrified manner. Both arms flinch up unconsciously to cover his face, preparing themselves from the follow up blows he knows come next. You open your mouth to speak as he slowly brings them back down to pick at the skin around his cuticles, but the words quickly die out when you notice the quick, desolate glances he’s giving you with his bleary eyes.
‘I’m so sorry, it won’t happen again.’ All he hears is his father, because that’s all he’s ever heard. From his own mouth. From his brother’s. From Shiv’s. It won’t happen again, because Roman wouldn’t dare upset his father by making the same mistake twice. And it sends a coarse chill running through his stomach at the incorrect implication that it won’t happen again because you’re going to leave him.
He can’t breathe, and he’s a cunt, and he wants to tear the skin off his arms with his fingernails.
‘Seriously, Mrs. fucking Grouch over here, I’m fine. This is the fucking normal level of bullshit my family gets up to. One of us cries on the floor daily for no reason. It’s like a constant daily fucked up the butt scheduled reminder of how fucked up we all are. So yeah, just fucking forget it. I’m good.’
Instead, he clambers off and thinks he’s walking calmly off. With a wave of his hand, he pulls a face as if he’s saying ‘I’m fine’, but he’s holding his arms across his stomach as he makes a break for the bathroom. Even though he had always hated the room: far too many mirrors for his liking, he locks the door and slides down onto the cold cut marble tiles. He thumps his head back against the wall, trying to drown out the banging that’s begun to ring through his ears. With eyes tightly squeezed shut, and a grimace on his face, he understands how sick he is to still enjoy the pain.
It takes almost a solid ten minutes for him to realise that sound isn’t just his blood rushing through his veins, but also the sound of your fist rapping against the door. It’s more muffled now: as if you’re slumped up against the wood, and he feels even worse at the thought that he’s been ignoring you for so long to wallow in his own self-pity. Because he never wants to ignore you. You’re the only person whose ever truly seen him for who he is, and who tries to listen when he chokes out the poison that seems to seep out from his throat: who tries to read behind the words the puppet mouths, opening and closing as he repeats the sins of his father.
He slides on his knees as if in confession until he reaches the door, but Roman’s grip on the handle only tightens as he stops himself from opening it the full way. For a moment, the ingrained confidence drains from him, and he doesn’t want you to see him this way. So he does the only thing he can muster in that moment: he opens the door a crack, and sticks his hand through the twilight laden gap until his coarse fingers are laden with the thick air between the two of you. Slumped against the hinges, he nearly cries in relief when your fingers are quick to reach out to that sacred space between the two of you. His head is heavy as he closes his eyes, feeling that connection again, and he squeezes tightly against your knuckles. You begin mumbling out more furious apologies, and he can hear that you’ve been sobbing by the cracks in your voice. It makes him feel even worse.
He comes crawling out after that, reborn from the bathroom as he burrows into your lap like a cradled baby. He begins fumbling out apologies too, grasping and fisting his hand into the material by your breast. The two of you stay clung together on the austere floor, crying together for the past you’ve had to endure, and the future you know you’re trapped in like flies stuck onto a sticky web. You stroke back the strands of Roman’s hair away from his eyes, and for the first time that night he’s been able to truly meet your eyes. Such a strong devotion begins to settle deep within them, seeping through his body until he trembles his knees against your abdomen and his fingertips burn alight as they skim across the bare skin of your neck. A few tears still chill your neck as he presses a worn out, tender kiss just below your pulse point, but the two of you are too wrapped up in each other’s comfort to care.
He presses a final, bloodstained kiss against the edge of your mouth as the sun begins to peer its callous eyes over the edges of the city, its cold glow flooding through your apartment in an attempt as futile as warming the frosty edges of a long-overgrown tombstone. Yet the two of you were warm against each other, safe and cosy as Roman tightened his grip around your waist and began to close his eyes. Against the burning light that felt like darkness, Roman began to feel his world slowly turn back round again, feeling both as trapped and as free as he had ever been.
#succession#succession imagine#roman roy#roman roy imagine#roman roy x reader#kendall roy#shiv roy#logan roy#succession x reader#roman roy headcanons#succession headcanons#roman succession#roman succession imagine#kieran culkin#succession season 4#x reader
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