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chokepoet · 8 months

Text

Cruelty & Empathy 18+

gif by @romulussy

Summary | A night alone in the office has Roman and his assistant escalating their tension past a point of no return. The aftermath of which leads to confessions that will change the trajectory of their relationship forever.

Genre | Angst, Fluff, Porn With Plot

Content | anxiety, biting, blood, bondage, choking, crying, dom/sub tones, degradation, dirty talk, mentions of past physical abuse, power struggles, thigh riding, sadomasochism, slapping, spitting

Word Count | 8.5k

A/N: Y’all this fic is fuckin’ filthyyyy… but like in a romantic way??? I wasn’t going to share it but my best friend insisted. If y’all hate this I volunteer as tribute for boar on the floor lmao

Roman Roy’s Office | 10:33 pm

He was sprawled out across the couch as if this were his family’s private estate. It might as well have been. The building’s climate control always seemed to be blowing a peculiar air. One that felt like his father breathing down the back of his neck at all times. Left calf draped over the backrest, right hand cradling a whiskey, and head tilted back over the armrest. His once-slick hair now hung limp, with loose strands reaching for the carpet below. His upside-down gaze willed me to stop my attempts at meeting our deadline and to focus solely on him instead.

My bank account's dwindling had my morals emaciated. They’d weakly played tug of war with my last braincell when I'd accepted Roman’s job offer nearly two years prior. About 6 months into being his assistant, I found myself earning another role: his best friend. His only friend. My typing picks up speed as I contemplate what level of fucked-up I had to be in order to actually enjoy this job. I decide it must have been top-tier when my thoughts drift to the one Roy that had me feeling this way.

In the past 22 months, I came to understand Roman better than anyone else ever had. He somehow wormed his way into gaining just as much insight into me as well. It made me feel strangely protective over him. Oddly enough, he seemed to reciprocate. We still rarely aloud ourselves vulnerability in the presence of the other. We much preferred self-immolation. I don’t think he ever intended to grow so attached to me. He certainly would never admit to it. If you had asked me if the feeling was mutual, I’d lie through my teeth.

I loved him madly.

I don’t exactly know when or how it happened. I do, however, vividly remember when I first realized he held something soft for me.

Siena, Italy | 4:21 am

He was drunk off his ass, his head resting on my shoulder. He had been leaning into my frame for support long before he even needed it. Roman mumbled something about liking me because I was the only “sad sack of shit” in the office who could make him laugh. I asked him why I was a sad sack and not just a regular sack. He blew out a huff of air, causing his lips to trill. The sound was quickly preceded by the flipping of his wrists in a few circles.

“Isn't it obvious?” I nudged my shoulder against his head.

“Because I work for your sorry ass?”

He clumsily tapped the tip of my nose with his right pointer finger, nearly blinded my left eye in the process.

“Bingo, bongo, banjo.” The nonsensical words tumbled out and the rest of his drink tumbled in. “Itstheeyes.” I’d been unable to make out the slurred syllables mumbled just under his breath. For all I knew, they could’ve been Latin for ‘bastard’.

“What?” He dropped his now-empty glass into a historic fountain as we passed. I stopped to try and fish it out, but he dragged me away. I remember wondering if he had made a wish on it in his drunken haze. Rich and careless enough to pretend it was a penny. Maybe that had been why he was so adamant about me not retrieving it. My mind wandered as I pondered what Roman could have possibly wished for. His father's approval? An endless supply of luxurious Korean face creams? A pair of stunning Italian supermodels to lean into instead of me?

Tripping over his own two feet, I instinctively gripped his bicep. Stubborn as ever, he shoved me and muttered something along the lines of 'fuck off'. God forbid he’d take my help. Throwing my hands up, I left him to walk alone a few steps ahead of me. He weaved for a while before slowing his pace until he could lay his head back on my shoulder.

A beat passed, where the only sound was the soft crunch of our shoes against the weathered cobblestone. I caught one of his bleary eyes peeking over at my face. Content with whatever it was he found, he nodded to himself.

“Yep.” He popped his lips on the 'p' and absentmindedly kicked a pebble from our path. “It's the eyes. Sad sack of shit eyes. You've got 'em.” The laugh that had left me seemed much too loud as it ricocheted off every crumbling brick ahead of us. Roman smiled proudly for a moment. “I love your laugh.” The words were said mostly to himself. My cheeks warmed considerably.

“Really? It's obnoxious as all hell.” His brows furrowed, and he shook his head.

“No, it's fuckin’—fuck off. No, it's not.” He kicked another stone. “It's pretty. Pretty like… like your face.” Pretty. “Nothin’ like a hyena.” Hyena? “I think I'm gonna puke.”

He did.

Roman’s Office | 10:47 pm

“Hi.” A small voice lounging across from me pulls my attention. I look up from the computer and rest my head in my hand, my elbow propped on his desk.

“Hi.” I smile softly with a raised brow.“Need somethin’?” The grin that breaks across his features is almost childlike. His big brown eyes could even be mistaken for innocent; I knew better.

“As a matter of fact…” Extremely happy to have garnered my attention, he pulls himself to a sitting position. “Yes!” With a swift motion, he slams his whiskey onto the coffee table. The sharp sound of glass on glass reverberates throughout the room.

“Yes?”

“Yes?” His voice drops into a cartoonish impersonation of my own. His hand was still clasped around his drink for some reason. Flipping his face up to me with a saccharine simper, he adds, “Will you kindly suck my cock?”

“Will you kindly go fuck yourself?” My impression of him was just as cartoonish as his of me. The hand holding my head returns to typing. Groaning loudly, he lets go of his glass to dramatically fall back into the couch.

“Will you? ‘Cause I’m fuckin’ bored!” He drags out his words until they turn to whine. “This is fucking boring. Aren’t you bored?”

“Yes, you’re extremely boring.”

“Hurr-hurr.” He mocks while crinkling his nose. “I’ll have you know I’m anything but and am widely known as delightful company.” A snort escapes my nose and Roman smiles.

“Really? I thought you were widely known as a terrible person.” He rolls his eyes as I quote his cousin.

“Yeah, yeah fuck you.” He gives me the finger. I flip him off in return. “The fuck does Nosferatu fuckin’ know anyways?” The nickname makes me chuckle and has Roman mimicking Greg. “Oh, I—I couldn’t help but—couldn’t help but notice that my gargantuan height may be alarm—alarming the schoolchildren. I—is that why Iverson is um c—crying? Or is he like, I—I mean, is he… y—ya know… special?”

The laughter still bubbled up uncontrollably even as I tried maintaining focus on the task at hand. My passive interest towards Roman was annoying him to no end.

“Come on! I want entertainment! Entertain me, woman!” I roll my eyes. A cinnamon tinted stare was steady burning apertures into my features, willing me to stop ignoring him. “Come—Come on…” His hands outstretch in my direction, middle and index finger beckoning quickly. “Come show big daddy watcha got.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, my typing stops and I fully turn my attention towards him. His face contorts in a grimace already knowing what was to come. My brows raise as I slowly repeat his words back to him.

“Come show big daddy what I got?” Roman’s hands drag down his face and he groans loudly as soon as big leaves my mouth.

“Oh, fuck y—shut the fuck up.” He sinks lower into the couch with high hopes of it swallowing him whole. The smile that breaks across my features is downright malevolent. I couldn’t recall having ever seen him this embarrassed. Surprising, considering all the lewd shit he spews at me daily. There was something sick inside me that enjoyed it. The urge to play cat rather than mouse overtakes me.

“No, no, no. I just want to understand you clearly, Mr. Roy.” Our dynamic had never been much of a professional one. I couldn’t recall the last time I had addressed him so formally but I wanted to really get under his skin. Oddly enjoying my place in its prickled embrace. Rising from my chair, I place both palms on the desk and lean forward with a pout. “Are you saying you wanna shut me up with your cock, big daddy?”

“I’m going to fucking kill myself.” He was pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Aw! Weawwy, Daddy? Jus' 'cause I won't suwck yo big thick cock?” At that, a cushion flies towards my head. I narrowly catch it as I’m doubling over in laughter. He’s standing now, hands overtly animated.

“I swear to GOD, I’m going to fucking—fuck! Fuck you! Out the window!” He’s angrily pointing towards the giant window panes beside him. “I’m going to throw you out the fucking window!”

“Oh wow, you’re gonna fuck me out the window?” His face was the deepest shade of crimson I had ever seen it.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, I swear to Christ I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” I was doing a piss-poor job at stifling my laughter.

“I just fucking told you. Ass through glass.” He dismissively waves a hand in the air.

“Bullshit.” Finally looking at me, I cross my arms. His eyes flicker to my chest. “You don’t have the balls.”

“Are you saying I don’t have the balls to murder you?” The words come out in a bemused laugh. “I could murder the fuckin’—murder the shit out of you. Easily.”

“Okay.” With a shrug of my shoulders, I feel a dark coil in the back of my mind start to twist. “Prove it.”

“Prove it? You want me to—to what? Throw you through the goddamn window right now?”

I smirk back at him with a shrug, an inkling I had about him spilling to the forefront of my mind. It colors my vision and stains my tongue. If there was ever a time to find out if my suspicions held true, for some reason, I decided that now was the time. The office was definitely empty at this hour, and the privacy blinds were drawn, so no cameras. Risky as all hell, but if things go south, maybe I could play it off as riffing. I could be quite the convincing liar when I needed to be. My mother saw to that.

“See? I knew it.” With hands on my hips, I tilt my head to size him up. My tone shifts into something silky as sin. “You won’t do shit.” The air begins filling with static causing Roman’s lips to twitch. “You and I both know it. Don’t we…” I slide out from behind the desk, feeling taller as I grow closer. Feeling bolder seeing him swallow. “Romulus?” Using his father’s nickname for him causes his nostrils to flare. A clench in the jaw, a quick exhale. I fucking knew it. “So why don’t you just…” Fully standing in front of him now, I look down with a smirk “sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up for once in your life.”

The air was now overcome with static. Thick and heavy. The subjugated desire etched into his features felt so familiar to me. While I had never seen him this way, or anyone else for that matter, I myself had given that look many a time. That inkling I had was no longer an inkling. It had grown roots that smiled with wicked teeth; I was right.

The electric silence between us started to prick at my skin. My bottom lip twitches as it fought against every instinct to fill the silence with some form of an apology. To try and turn my sudden shift from dominance back into normalcy. His eyes dart to my mouth immediately; he knows.

“Make me.” His head slowly tilts upwards, as do the corners of his lips. The heat that had been slowly brewing between us for well over a year licks up my thighs. He was sneering up at me as we stood toe to toe. His burnt espresso eyes had my mind spiraling in their steam. The look on his face said everything. He saw me, he had me, he called my bluff, he won.

No.

My hand wound itself in the silky hair at the nape of his neck and I use it to jerk his head back. His jaw immediately goes slack. Something akin to a whimper escapes his throat. Surprise has my brows raising and Roman feeling embarrassed. His heavy lids fall and he turns himself away. Reaching up with my free hand, I grip his jaw until he’s facing me once again.

“Look at me.” He does in an instant and I’m flooded by a mixture of emotions. Relief, power, love. I never want to forget how he looks beneath my hands. The way his pupils eclipse the hazel of his eyes. The way his freckles scatter under the pinkish hue of a blush. The way his lips part slightly as his breath shakes out across them. Just as my eyes dance across his every feature, his do mine. Is he etching my features into his own memory?

He attempts to lean forward but I hold him steady. Roman wanted to kiss me but I wanted to tease. I press my lips beside his mouth before trailing them along the smooth path of skin leading to his ear. Sucking his skin into my mouth, I bit gently. A soft sound of content slips from his lips, so I trace up the shell of his ear with my tongue. Upon my return, I bite down once more; harder this time. Just as my teeth release him, the fist tangled in his hair gives a sharp tug. His hum bleeds into a moan that has me squeezing my thighs together. A cool plume of air billows past my lips along the now damp skin; goosebumps erupt immediately. I slide my hand from his jaw until my fingers wrap around his throat to hold him.

“Do you like this, Rome?” The soft whisper has him murmuring his satisfaction. “Come on…” I lightly squeeze his throat. “Be a good boy and use your words.” When I pull away to look at his face, I find his lids are nearly shut.

“Y-yeah.” He swallows in an attempt to steady himself. It doesn’t. “Y-yes, I like it.” He could barely look me in the eyes and it made my stomach flip in the best way possible.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this.” The words slip out before I have the chance to stop them. He inhales sharply, and the air seems to rattle through his skull. His eyes quickly leave mine as his face warms considerably. My heart beats as if it were trying to rip itself from my chest and collide with his. The blood rushing in my ears was chanting 'I love you' over and over again. My teeth dig into my cheek until the taste of blood envelops my tongue. I'm raging a war with my own body in silence. This newfound power was locking talons with my own subjugated nature and death spiraling through the emotion in my chest.

His pulse was racing underneath my thumb. My voice cascades over his flushed skin as I let feather light kisses rain upon him. His first name glides along the tip of his right cheek, his last over the tip of his left. Hovering just out of his reach, I whisper into his open mouth.

“Tell me what you need.” He desperately tries to press his lips into mine but I just pull back. He grunts in frustration.

“Just fuckin’ kiss me already.”

“No.” Releasing my grip, I shove him into the couch. He trips backwards, gracelessly collapsing into the cushions. I climb onto his lap with my knees pressed to either side of his hips. With one hand, I weave my fist around his tie and pull him to me. My other grips his jaw tightly. “You wanna try that again?” His jaw clenches beneath my fingers. His eyes were wild as they flared up at me. Suddenly, his hands lock onto my hips, hard. He pushes his face into my fingers until the tips of our noses bump together.

“I said, just fucking kiss me and I meant do it now.” His words were caught somewhere between a hiss and a growl. He never could handle the word no, so his response shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. The power I’d been holding over him was now leaking through the lace under my skirt. My thighs instinctively flex around him and it has him digging his fingers in harder. A liquid heat spreads through my chest at the thought of later seeing the bruises he was surely leaving behind.

“Well?” My teeth clench and the hand holding his jaw twitches. The attitude lacing his voice drug it’s nails up my spine as I’m reminded of how entitled he could be. He wasn’t supposed to be the one making demands anymore. His smile twitches as a darkness blooms behind his glee. “You wanna hit me don’t you?” My grip loosened; my lungs suddenly feeling like he held them in his fist.

“W-what?” I didn’t want to hit him. Did I? He was selfish, he was arrogant, and he could be so goddamn cruel. Still, the urge to physically harm him was something I had never once encountered. Knowing the history of his childhood and having bared witness to his father’s present day violence against him had made me hyper aware of the constant pain pulsing below his surface. My eyes rapidly blink as they search past his burning stare and into the darkened crevices of his soul.

Oh—he wanted me to hurt him.

His need for it radiating from the blackened pits to scald me. It scared me. It scared me because it felt dark. It felt wrong. But it scared me the most of all because suddenly in this moment, I wanted to. “I-I don’t-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Again, my teeth clench and my grip retightens on his jaw. His smile grew. Mother fucker knew what he was doing. He was basking in it.

He reaches for my hand wound in his tie, quickly unraveling before bringing it to his throat. His own then slide towards my ass. Gripping tightly, he pushes me down against his length to make sure I felt how badly he wanted this. He throbbed against my center; he wanted it bad. “Listen to me. You’re gonna let go of my jaw and you’re gonna fuckin’ slap me, aright?” I nod and release him. “Fuckin’ hit me.” As I draw back my palm, his tongue peaks out to wet his bottom lip.

Slap.

My palm makes contact and brushes across his cheek. It was a sad attempt really. Weak. Even though I knew he wanted it, needed it, something inside held me back.

I was still scared of harming him.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Come on!” He roughly digs his fingers into my ass, significantly harder than before. “I said fucking slap me!”

Crack.

I slapped him. Hard. His face jerks to the side. My hand stung as it instinctively goes to cover my mouth in shock of myself. His lips twitch before slowly turning up in a demented grin. A bloom of red seeps out from his bottom lip and his tongue slides across it. With the taste of his own blood, his smile widens. He laughs softly to himself and I slowly lower my hand.

“There she is.” His voice low, a rumbling purr. “You fuckin’ bitch.” The hand I had just used to strike instantly flies into the mess of his hair; our lips collide. A groan escapes, but from which of us—I didn’t know. The metallic taste of him fueled me. It felt frantic, bruising, needy. We pushed ourselves into each other as if we were feral creatures, held captive and starved. Feeding on something we had buried deep inside only to be found behind the teeth of the other. Sucking his tongue into my mouth causes him to moan and set me ablaze.

I force our mouths apart with a pull of his hair; desperately needing to catch my breath and clear my head. Panting heavily, we stare into the depths of the other in quiet disbelief. This was really happening.

“You sure you want this?” I needed to hear him confirm that he did, in-fact, want to go where we were obviously heading. I knew Roman long enough to know he had serious intimacy issues. Their seeming lack of presence in this moment had me in a whirlwind. He pressed himself into my center once again, his nails bruising crescents into my skin.

“What do you fuckin’ think, dumbass?” I let go of his throat and dig my own nails into his jaw to grip him harshly. He openly smiles with swollen lips.

“Tell me then. Tell me exactly what you want.” His expression falters and his jaw tenses beneath my fingers, eyes flickering from mine.

“You know what I fuckin’ want.” His words seep through gritted teeth. I press my forehead to his. Ever so slowly, I begin rhythmically grinding my hips down upon him. The friction causing his eyes to slip shut. A loud groan escapes from somewhere deep within his chest.

“Roman, I swear to God I’ll stop.” He doesn’t say anything so I still my hips. Umber eyes shoot open and he tries to move me himself. I won’t budge. “I will get up and I will fucking leave you here like this. Pathetic and alone with nothing but your hand.” As the words leave my mouth, so do my hips leave his. His brows snap together and tries in vain to pull me back down again. Still, I don’t budge. “I will walk out this door and you will never fucking see me again. Is that what you want?” The threat was hollow but said with a bite that had shaken me. I was falling into this role a little too easily, a little too well.

He gapes up at me when I completely let go of him. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I attempt to push myself off. It’s him who doesn’t budge this time. He yanks me back down with every ounce of strength his small frame contained. The sudden action has all the air escaping my lungs. With a hand clasped to the back of my neck, he seizes me into a searing kiss.

“Whatever you want.” The words frantically rush into my mouth. “I don’t care.” Fighting against the grip on my neck, he finally gives. I pull back to contemplate his words. Tilting my head slightly, my gaze falls to his tie. An idea begins forming as I slowly untie the silk. My nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt has him intently studying my face. Whatever I want.

Cupping his warm face in one hand, I smear the blood of his bottom lip with my thumb. He parts his mouth and sucks it in. With my other, I reach for Roman’s and slide his own thumb into my waiting mouth. As I swirl my tongue around him, Roman’s eyes darken and he sucks me harder.

Pulling from his lips with a pop, I rub my now wet thumb against his nipple. A soft moan is let loose. My tongue continuously plays with him inside me. He shudders as I pinch the bud beneath my fingers before doing the same to the other. Letting go of his hand, I reach forward to pinch both simultaneously and he groans loudly.

My cheeks hollow around his thumb as he slips it from me. He drags it down my bottom lip and stares intently. Transfixed by my spit glistening in the incandescent light. Cupping my jaw, he pulls me forward to replace his thumb with his tongue. That familiar groan returning when I suck him in. His other hand tangles itself into my staticky waves and he kisses me with everything he has.

“Give me your wrists.” The order was partially muffled against his mouth.

“Huh?” The question was mumbled into my lips.

“I said,” Threading my fingers into his own hair, I pull him back. “give me your fucking wrists.” With a dramatic tug, his tie is jerked from underneath his collar in a rush. He sat still, blinking up at me. The walnut shells of his eyes fall into my hands. There was a slight apprehension, a nervousness to them. “Do you trust me, Rome?”

“Y-yeah.” His voice was hushed as he presents his hands to me and I slowly start wrapping the silk around his wrists.

“We can stop at anytime. You know that, right? Just say the word and I’ll stop immediately.” My reassurance seems to irritate more than comfort. He rolls his eyes with a tilt of the head.

“Would you fuck off? I’m fine.” A crease digs itself into the bridge of his nose and my actions immediately still.

“I’m not going to fuck off unless I know that you know that you’re safe with me, okay?” This dominate role was far from the submissive one I was innately familiar with. We obviously had never discussed boundaries and I didn’t know where the lines were anymore. “I need you to know you can speak up. That I’ll stop the second you tell me to.” Roman looks like he’d rather get a root canal than continue this discussion, but I don’t care. This was far too important. “I need you to know that your comfort is important—that your feelings matter.”

“I fucking know it, alright?” He snapped before groaning and throwing his head back. “God, what the fuck else do you need to know before you just shut the fuck up and get on with it already?” My hand quickly finds its way to his throat with a squeeze. He seems more than pleased by this response.

“Do you wanna fucking cum?”

“Clearly I wanna fuckin’—“ My other hand slaps over his mouth and I can feel him smiling underneath my palm. Roman was gladly trying to piss me off. He was itching to see me lose control; yearned to meet the creature locked inside me. The wicked one I never acknowledged or came near; the demon only he could see. She bathes me in the blood of solidified suspicions.

Roman didn’t want my empathy.

Roman wanted my cruelty.

“Then are you fucking stupid? If you don’t shut the fuck up I’ll make damn sure to have you crying like a little bitch before I even think of letting you cum.” His eyes blackened as he watches my succubuss unhinge her jaw to swallow me whole. “Got it?” He nods quickly. Rapid bursts of air shoot from his nose across the back of my hand. “And lose the fuckin’ attitude.” Removing my hand, I slap him across the mouth; handing myself over to his desires completely.

Having finished binding his wrists and setting them behind his head, I rise from the couch. Standing between his ankles, I unzip my skirt and let it fall to my feet. The muscles in his forearms flex. His tongue peaks between his lips as he gawked at the damp lace between my thighs. Sliding my finger below his chin, I tilt his head until he meets my eyes.

“You know what I want, Roman?” My hand takes home around his throat once again. Now having his full attention, I feel him swallow as he shakes his head. His excitement was palpable. Settling my right knee between his thighs, I nudge it gently against his hard length. His nostrils flare with a sharp inhale. “I want you to watch me get myself off on your thigh.” He groans loudly. I couldn’t tell if it was out of desire, frustration, or a mixture of both but the response delighted me nonetheless. Placing my left knee to the other side of his thigh, I fully seat myself upon him. “Knowing there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.”

“Fuck.” Slowly grinding against the fabric of his thigh, my lashes flutter at the sensation. A soft moan escapes me before I can stop it. I was dripping wet and could already feel myself swiftly ruining his ostentatiously expensive pants.

“How does it feel Roman? To have me use you like this?“ A whimper meets my ears. His eyes transfixed on my clothed center sliding roughly against his thigh. There was a fire beneath his skin and he was entranced by the sight of kerosene being poured upon it. “To ruin you like this?” His smokey gaze flickers up to mine and I use the moment to grind myself harder against him. The rough friction elicits another moan from me, louder this time. “This is all you’re good for—” My final word comes out in a whine causing Roman to tear into his bottom lip hard enough to draw more blood. “Tell me. How does it feel?” I nudge my knee into his throbbing member once more and the deepest groan ripples through his teeth. His arms jerk against his binds as I use my free hand to sharply twist his nipple. “Answer me!”

“Good! It feels—Fuck.” The sentiment came out hoarse and husky. He shoves his head back into his tied wrists, thrusting himself against my knee. “Feels so f-fuckin’ good.” Digging my thumb into his pulse point, I slide my knee back. He whines; all hopes of friction dashing in an instant.

“No. You don’t get to cum until I say you do. Got it, you demented little fuck?” He’s a whimpering mess beneath me; eyes wide and watery. I wanted to drown myself in the sight and never touch the light of day again.

My thong bunches to the side from the aggression in my movements. Now fully bare against him, a shiver rushes through me as my clit kisses the luxurious fabric of his thigh. I wasn’t going to last much longer.

“If you don’t fucking behave I swear to God I’ll leave you like this—tied up and soaking for whoever to find.” The bite in my threats were losing their edge. My voice lost somewhere between a moan and sigh. An impending orgasm flicks it’s tongue at the base of my spine.

“Wouldn’t want it to be your father who finds you like this, would you?” A mangled whine shakes itself from his throat and has me smiling.

The blood seeping from his parted lips seem to glitter under the city light of his windows. I flatten my tongue across his jaw and drag it up his chin until my mouth fills with copper. The taste causes a sigh to slip from my mouth into his.

“You’re close. I-I can feel it.” His voice tight and high-pitched as he starts to slightly bounce his leg. “You’ve f-fucking drenched me.” The jolting of his thigh into my clit has my head falling into his shoulder; grinding harder and faster against him. The nails of my right hand embed themselves into the skin of his waist. A carnal mosaic of the flesh born below my grip. I was at the brink. “I-I wanna feel you cum.” He’s whining as he starts to bounce his leg faster; face buried in my hair. His shaking breath against my cheek has my entire body erupting in goosebumps. “P-please lemme f-feel you cum.” His beg hitches to an even higher pitch. His thigh nearly vibrating under me, desperate pleas rippling through me. Every nerve ending in my body felt ablaze.

It was all too much.

A scream rips from my lungs and I sink my teeth into the flesh of Roman’s shoulder. He tasted of salt and brimstone. My nails frenetically scratch into his skin as my thighs tremble and squeeze. Groans barrel up from his chest to mingle with my own. My release shatters through me with a blinding intensity I had never experienced before. I was overflowing; drenching his thigh to seep into his soul.

The heaving of our chests pressed tightly together slowly lulls me back down again. My fingertips absentmindedly painting shapes into his skin with the blood I’d drawn from his waist. Sparkles of light and voids of soot twirl across my vision. An indention of my teeth remained etched into his shoulder. He shudders when I press a soft kiss onto the bruised skin. My head falling heavy when it replaces my mouth to lean into him.

I’m suddenly reminded of Roman’s own much needed release upon finding his hips desperately grinding circles into empty air. He’s whimpering; body begging. My hand still cradled his throat so I languidly brush my thumb along his pulse point. His heart was racing.

“Do you need to cum, Roman?” A loud, high-pitched whine answers me.

“Please.” The word comes out in a choked sob. “I need—“ He was fighting against his binds, the silk digging painfully into his wrists. “Please.” He frantically presses open mouth kisses into any inch of my skin that he could reach; pleading with glassy eyes. “Please lemme cum.” I leave his throat to gently cup his cheek and smile softly before pulling back from him. “No—“ He stops himself when I thread one hand into his hair and place the other bloodied one atop his chest.

“You gonna cum your pants for me, Romie?” I take my sweet time sliding my palm towards where he needs it most. “Like the needy little slut that you are?” The whispered words were dripping in ghost pepper honey that had him swallowing. “Are you that desperate? That pathetic?”

“Yes.” The answer comes out in a quiet quick rush of air. “Y-yeah, I am.” My hand finally reaches his pulsing length and it twitches beneath my fingers. He immediately ruts against my palm and I squeeze him before jerking his head back.

“Stop.” He clenches his teeth but surprisingly does. Tensing beneath me, using every ounce of self control to still himself. He was trembling beneath my grasp. Frustrated tears caressed his lashes and began streaming down his flushed cheeks. His breath was coming out hard and shallow through flared nostrils.

A memory flashes through my mind: Roman’s captivated stare watching his glistening thumb press into my bottom lip.

“Open your mouth.” Again, he follows my orders instantly. Hovering my face above his, my lips purse with a drop of spit. He catches it with a moan that I immediately kiss into my mouth. “Cum.” My voice drops just above a whisper against his raw lips. “Make a mess of yourself.”

He instantly begins fucking himself roughly into my grip. The heat of his flesh searing me through the fabric. Grunting into my open mouth as I tug his hair into the cushions just below his wrists. His hands opening and closing before locking into tight fists. “Look at me.” His eyes shoot open. “Such a good boy for me.” A familiar emotion swirls through the sliver of hazel around his pupils. His lids flutter as he fought with everything in him to keep himself rooted in my gaze. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Roman.”

His hips shoot from the couch as he explodes and spreads me open across his thigh. The sensation causes my breath to catch in my throat. A gravely yell rips from the deepest parts of himself and tears apart every muscle in my body. He pours everything he has into the fabric beneath my hand with wide eyes never leaving mine. He collapses hard with shuttering breaths; body limp and twitching.

I release him to bring my palm to my lips; the slightest bit damp from him. My tongue paints his taste into my memory with pupils blown. Jaw slack, he watches intently through heavy wet lashes. His muddy eyes fill with that same emotion I had seen from him earlier.

“Lemme taste you.” The request was nearly silent but it rattled me like a wail. If I was any further from him I wouldn’t have heard it, but I did and couldn’t believe he had asked. Lifting my hips slightly, I run two fingers through my sensitive folds and shiver. He immediately takes notice and a ghost of a smile tugs at his lips.

My fingers tremble as they rise towards his mouth. He inhales deeply before parting his lips for me. Slipping into the velvet of his mouth, his eyes flutter shut. His pointed tongue runs up between their gaps before flattening to drag back down. He was savoring every drop as if he were a starved man lost at sea. An involuntary hum reverberates from his throat into my skin and his cheeks seem to darken even more. He playfully bites down with sparkling eyes when I slip my fingers from his warm mouth.

The sight had the blood pounding in my ears beginning their familiar chant: ‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’ It overwhelmed me and I couldn’t help but pull him into one last searing kiss. Tasting myself on his tongue had my head spinning. Here on my knees, I prayed to a godless sky that he could taste my heart overflowing into his mouth. Cupping his cheeks in both hands, my thumbs brush away the damp paths left by his previous tears. His forehead suddenly creases beneath mine.

“You okay, Rome?” He shakes my hands from his face and turns away from me. My own brows knot together in worry.

“I’m fine.” His face further contorts upon hearing how his voice cracked. It might as well have cracked my ribs right along with it. He clenches his jaw before gnawing at the inside of his cheek. His hands form into tight fist behind his head. He was trying not to cry again.

My fingers twitch in my lap and it takes everything in me not to wrap him in my arms. Instead, I reach for his wrists and bring them forward. They felt heavy and limp in my hands. Right as I began my attempt at untying them, a small sniffle brings my attention back to Roman’s face.

“It’s okay if you’re not okay, you know?” I try to gently reassure him but it only deepens the tortured disgust in his features.

“I said I’m fucking fine.” The words are spit with a venom that eats through to my bones. Feeling me search his feature has him crumbling before me. Fresh tears immediately start spilling down his cheeks and into the pits of my soul. I couldn’t help but reach for him. He surprisingly lets me cup his cheek, so I gently turn him to face me. His eyes squeeze tighter below my lips as I lightly kiss their corners. The small gesture of affection has a mangled sob ripping from his chest. Fully burying his face into my hand, he lets himself weep into my palm.

Brushing back the strands of hair sticking to his sweat, I feel my own eyes filling with tears. Refusing to let myself cry, I leave his hair to clumsily attempt untying his wrists with one hand but the knot had grown significantly tighter. No doubt from Roman constantly pulling against it all this time.

“Hey, Rome?” He responds with a mangled sound in the back of his throat. A desperate need to comfort and free him started anxiously clawing at my throat. “Listen, I know you’re totally fine and everything but I’m actually not.” His watery eyes glance to me, not registering that I’m joking. “The she demon that possessed me, she—the bitch was a Girl Scout from hell. This knot’s tighter than a goddamn hangman’s noose.” Roman pulls his face from my hand while rapidly blinking. The sounds of grinding metal fill my ears and their smokey scent tickles my nose. I flash him a goofy, albeit nervous, smile and the gears inside his head finally click into place.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” There was no bite to his words, having spoke them through a bemused chuckle. He wipes his nose with back of his hand and inhales the remnants of his vulnerability. Grateful relief balms the scrapes at my neck left by worry’s desperate claws.

His smile falters when I suddenly get up and leave him; it's as if a burst of panic fills his chest. However, when he watches me pick up a pair of scissors and the joggers from his gym bag, I sense the tension in him ease slightly. It's only when I climb back atop his thigh that he appears fully relieved. The weight of my warmth sinking into him seems to ground him.

After tossing his change of pants onto the cushion beside us, I carefully slide the blade under his tie and free him. The silk had dug in painfully, leaving nearly raw indentions in it’s wake. I mentally make a note to check my purse for some soothing lotion later as my fingers lightly brush across his skin. My thumbs begin rubbing into the muscles of his forearms. Roman was studying my face intently.

“These feel okay?” Shaking out his wrists, he rotates them a few times before letting them fall limp in my lap. It was his way of silently asking me to continue with my actions. He had far too much pride to express his desire for such a tender expression.

“Feels fine.” He fights off a shy smile when my hands pick up where they left off, massaging him gently. “My side on the other hand feels like fuckin’ cruise papers with the way ya shredded me.” He chuckles but I could still hear the residual emotion behind it. I lift the corner of his shirt up to take a look. The sight has my stomach instantly dropping; tangled weeds of angry wounds imbedded deep into flesh. Needles of red hot guilt begin sewing threads of shame up my legs. Looking down, I’m greeted with his blood caked under my nails. Memories of violence and words of degradation take ownership of my lungs.

“Fuck Rome…” My voice cracks and I suddenly feel my own tears holding a knife to my throat. “I’m so fucking sorry.” Roman quickly tears the fabric from my grasp and yanks it down.

“Oh shit. No no no no no—fuck fuck fuck.” His panicked expression made me feel so much worse. The canines of an anxiety attack drag up the nape of my neck like a threat. “I—I was fucking kidding!”

“I shouldn’t have d—done that to you. I—I shouldn’t have hit you. I shouldn’t have said—I didn’t—Rome, I didn’t mean them! The words—I—I’m so sor—“

“Oh dear God, would you fuckin’ stop.” He quickly cut me off but I had already dove to the deep end of a molten lava shame spiral.

“I—I made you fucking bleed Roman!” He rolls his eyes. “Multiple times!” His hands slap themselves onto the sides of my face, pressing hard into my cheeks.

“Yeah and you licked it up and it was the sexiest fuckin’—” I couldn’t open my eyes to look at him. If I looked at him I’d most certainly start crying. “I mean, I’m literally fucking drenched in cum right now.” My mouth was set in a hard line but my bottom lip quivered. “Come on now…” Nope, didn’t have to look at him. Turns out his voice alone could send tears falling. “I was kidding! I liked the fuckin’—fuckin’ feral scratchy shit! It was hot! And—and I told you to hit me! I—I wanted it! I wanted you to say all that fuckin’ nasty shit!” His fingers press into my skin harder as if he could force his sentiments to penetrate my skull. “I…I fuckin’ loved it. Like a lot. Okay?” My head was shaking back and forth trying to gain some control over my emotions, shake free of my tears. Roman didn’t know that though. How could he? I wasn’t speaking. He probably thought my actions were just my way of rejecting him. “Please don’t fuckin’ do this.”

My eyes crack open as I remove Roman’s hands from my face. The knotted look of bewilderment etched into his features summons the childhood phantom of my mother. Taking her disembodied palm to slap me across the mouth and rattle me with shrill screams: ‘You need to pull yourself the fuck together!’ I follow suit, digging the heels of my palms into my eyes.

“Promise?” My question came out pathetic and small. I fucking hated it and I fucking hated crying. I’m being fucking ridiculous. Stupid.

“Again, and I can’t stress this enough, soaking in my own cum right now.” His reassurance comes with a laugh that tugs my frown up slightly.

“I just—I’m sorry. It was one thing in the moment but just like… I dunno. I’ve never done anything like that. I—I don’t know what came over me.” My face felt feverish as the backs of my hands wipe the shame staining my cheeks. “Seeing the aftermath just kinda, it just—The thought of actually hurting you makes me feel fucking sick, Rome.” I feel the back of Roman’s knuckle brush away the tears I had missed. Chancing a look at his face gifted me the softest expression I had ever seen from him. “I never want to cause you any real harm.” My voice sounded almost foreign, weak with emotion and vulnerability. Where did all my bravado go? Oh yeah, it’s dripping down my thighs.

“Well you didn’t, alright? I’m fine. Like completely. A-o-fuckin’-kay over here.” He throws me the okay symbol and tries offering me a reassuring smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“But you were crying, Rome.” The smile instantly drops.

“That? No, I wasn’t—“ He shakes his head before scratching at his jaw. “It—it wasn’t because of that.” My brows furrow, and he groans, hands dragging down his face. “Look, I didn’t—I don’t—fuck!” He shakes his fingers through his hair and looks as if he’s about to rip it out. Refusing to meet my eyes, his stare finally settles on my hands lying face up in my lap. “It was your fuckin’—your hands, okay? It was your fuckin’ hands.” My eyes fall from his face and focus on the blood staining my fingertips. So it really was because I hit him. “The way you—“ He sighs. “The way you held me.” Oh. His head falls back as a long frustrated groan escapes him, eyes searching for heaven in the ceiling. “I dunno, okay? It just felt—it felt—“ He couldn’t finish. His eyes fall shut before he continues, his voice even quieter than before. “All I could think about was how you had looked at me.” I swallow before whispering just as quietly as he.

“How did I look at you?”

“I don’t know.” His voice grew thick with emotion once again. He shakes his head and finally meets my eyes; looking so defeated and sad. His pain bled me. “You’re always fuckin’ lookin’ at me like—like—“ Again, he can’t finish. He clenches his jaw like a threat towards the words caught in his throat.

“Like I love you?” His eyes squeeze shut and he turns his face from me once again; hiding himself from my words. I watch him clench and unclench his jaw until courage clenches my own. “Because I do love you, Roman.” Every muscle in his body seemed to tense beneath me, but I couldn’t stop my feelings from shattering their shackles. They’d been locked up for so long that their first taste of freedom sends them sprinting. “I love you so fucking much.” He clenches his fists, still unable to open his eyes and look at me.

I let myself lean into him and lay my head onto his shoulder. His fist start to unfurl and he lets his head fall against mine. A shuddering breath leaves him and he buries his face into my hair, hands tentatively resting on my hips. We sit in silence as I listen to his breathing slowly steadying. Once it had nearly returned to normal, I feel his lips gently press into my temple.

“I love you too.” The words were murmured into me, a heavy sigh follows after them. “You have no fucking idea.” The wilted buds of my heart and mind begin to bloom. My arms wrap themselves around him and squeeze him to me tightly. He reluctantly wraps his arms around me as well; slowly tightening his embrace until he’s clinging to my soul. Turning my head I press a kiss into the side of his throat and hear him sigh once again; the weight between us was dissipating.

“I’m sorry for freaking out earlier.” The words he had stuttered out when trying to calm me drift to the forefront of my mind. “I—I liked it too.” The warmth of his skin embraces my shy confession. “What we did together, I mean.” I hear him snort and it has me smiling against him. The air was feeling lighter.

“I’d fuckin’ say so, ya fuckin’ banshee. You shoulda seen how fuckin’ hard you came. I mean—Jesus Christ, you were fuckin’ feral.” I hide my face further into his neck but can’t help the laughter that bubbles up from me. “And now you act all fuckin’ bashful and shit? How the fuck does that even work? You literally tied me up and road my thigh like a buckin’ bronco.” I bite his throat and my body shakes from his laughter vibrating through me.

“Fuck you! I’m complex.”

“Yeah, no shit.” He tangles his hands in my hair and pulls me back to face him. “You’re fuckin’ insane, you know that?” He was smiling as he said it. “You drive me fucking insane.”

“The feelings mutual.” His smile only widens and he bounces his leg. I yelp in surprise, frantically gripping at his arms to maintain balance. He’s giggling uncontrollably. “You’re a sick fuck, Roman Roy.”

“Ooo round two already, thigh master?” He bounces his leg again. I try to slap his chest but he catches my wrist with his freehand and pulls me into a kiss I’m never going to forget. It was different than all the ones we had shared prior. This one was so much softer, so much gentler. Our foreheads rest against one another. His smile against my lips illuminates every crevice once void of light; I was loved.

#this used to be 10k words lol #I’ve rewritten it soooo many times #Roman Roy #Succession #Succession HBO #roman roy smut #roman roy x reader #roman roy one shot #roman roy fanfic #roman roy imagine #succession smut #succession fanfic #succession imagine #succession one shot #mine #can’t believe I’m following up kittens & perverts w/ this filth lmao #it still doesn’t feel perfect but she’s about to confiscate the phone from me if I keep rewriting this lol #cruelty & empathy

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motions1ckness · 3 months

Text

“comfort”

roman roy x reader blurb nsfw

( this is based off a dream so i had to write it)

You’re standing over Roman who’s sitting in his office chair. His head was resting on your chest as you played with his hair. Every time you ran your fingers against his scalp, you pulled a slight sigh from him; it was cute.

He was practically hanging off his chair, his body hugging your leg. This was normal Roman. Clinging into you, not knowing what’s going on in his head.

“I think I should bring it up next meeting, what do you think?”

Roman responded with a breathy “yeah” instantly, attempting to get this thoughts straight.

Romans hands found your back, pressing your body closer toward him. The action drawing a slight moan from you, but this is just how Roman is when it’s just two of you. Pulling you close as humanly possible, nuzzling his head farther into your chest. And creating friction with your leg.

“Comfortable?” you teased, but he just hummed back, too lazy to properly quip back.

He was rock hard but dismissed this as ‘just Roman’ and kept talking. Also because you liked how needy he was for you, gripping onto you like it was his dying wish.

As you were talking about possible dinner plans you notice Roman’s hips started rocking against your leg. It started slow as he kept trying to pull your body more into his, it wasn’t long before he reangled his hips for deeper friction.

Roman tried muffling his moans with your body, not loosening his grip.

You didn’t care if Roman was listening, you knew he needed the distraction from himself. The horniness of the situation alone had you suppressing whimpers.

Every thrust was so needy and desperate, he was unable to look at you. Just holding on and thrusting like his life depended on it.

Your mind was fuzzy. Unable to focus on anything expect for Roman humping your leg in his office, shamelessly moaning into your body to muffle himself. It was so hot.

“Rome I-,” You breathed. He was so close, his cock was twitching, his hips moving hastily. If there wasn’t just drawn curtains concealing the two of you from the rest of the office. You’d take him right there.

“P-please, M-almost there.” He muffled into your clothes.

Helping him toward the final push, you ran your nails into his hair again.

“You’re disgusting Roman. You’re sick. Getting off at work? C’mon, thought you were better than that.”

He was panting. “Yeah, I’m a sick fuck,” he moaned. One of his hands moved down to your hips to gain stability as his eye brows furrowed, about to cum. “W-What- What else?” He muttered out.

“God you can’t even look at me. You are like a depraved little boy. A little fucking failure.” You sneered at him. You pushed your leg deeper into his crotch, pretty whimpers and moaned leaving his lips as he came. He continued to buck into you until he came down.

You stepped back when he let go of you, seeing a wet stain in his pants.

“Oh fuck you. Get me new pants.”

#roman roy fanfic #succession fanfic #roman roy drabble #roman roy smut #roman roy x reader #roman roy blurb #blurb #drabble #succession smut #roman roy succession

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succcession · 1 year

Note

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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chaithetics · 11 months

Note

Can you please do something like youngest Roy is secretly dating Stewy and he sees Lucas Mattson hitting on her. And he gets jealous and wants to go public with their relationship thank you!!!!

Jealous Disclosures

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) Reader

Word count: 4.6K

Author's note: Thank you so much for this request Nonnie! I'm sorry for the delay in getting it out to you! It's been busy and I take a bit longer with jealousy/find it harder to write. I really hope you enjoy this, please do let me know! Also, this is obviously not proofread lol. I hope you all enjoy it and would love feedback :)

Chapter/content warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, established/secret relationship, some smut, jealous Stewy, icky Lukas Matsson, and douchey, douchey Roman! (Sorry about that).

*****************************************

It was Kendall’s 40th birthday party. You knew that this event was going to be something else, Kendall Roy always went above and beyond for a party, especially when he was in these kinds of states. Your more timid nature in comparison to your siblings' abrasive one meant that you naturally weren’t the biggest fan of big events but you could and would be able to suck that up for a night for your older brother.

You and Connor were the only ones of your siblings to have been officially invited. It was especially tense amongst Roy siblings at the moment, which was saying a lot because frankly, when wasn’t it? Fortunately not being involved at Waystar meant that you didn’t have to bite the bullet and deal with the tension like the middle three Roy children did. But you certainly still felt its effects.

You were in a corner chatting away with Rava, you’d gladly clutched to her company as soon as she had arrived despite the fact that she initially wasn’t intending to stay for long. She was the nicest and most genuine of any of the partners that the Roys had ever brought back to the family. Well other than Willa you quickly thought, you liked Willa and had from the get-go, she was down to earth and easy to get along with. She also made an impressively good balance to the often well-intending but very chaotic nature of your eldest sibling.

“Wow wee, Little Bo Peep!” A voice blurted, grabbing your attention and forcing you to turn. You found that Roman had awkwardly jumped onto the seat next to you with a poor landing that he brushed off as he completely ignored Rava, solely focusing his attention on you.

“Wait what? Is that a nickname? What kind of nickname is that? And Rava was talking-”

“The kind that losers like you get.” He instantly quipped back.

“How charming.” You sighed as you took a sip of your drink.

“You didn’t bring a date?” Roman questioned.

“Rava and I were having a conversation, Ro.” Roman just looked at you blankly. “Remember Rava? Kendall’s wife for over a decade, the mother of your niece and neph-”

“Hey Rava,” Roman says turning to face her for a brief second before turning his attention back to you, Rava just scoffs, already exposed and more than used to these antics. “So, did you bring a date?”

“No, did you?”

“Not tonight didn’t really feel like it.” He says dryly and then looks back up at you.

“Fair enough.” You respond. Anxiously waiting.

There’s bound to be more. There’s always a biting and inappropriate comment seconds away from leaving Roman’s mouth.

“But so, are you like seeing anyone?”

“What the fuck Roman?!” You spoke and Rava had an expression of disbelief over the audacity of Roy men but not in shock, she was well acquainted with it.

“Well, I’m not asking because I’m interested. Because trust me, I’m not.” He says with that proud, troublemaking smirk.

“Oh, my god.” You sigh, rolling your eyes at him.

“Perfect! I’ll take that as a no!” Roman practically leapt out of his chair in the most chaotic way possible. He pinched your arm once he was out of his chair as he grabbed your arm to pull you along.

“Ow!”

“Come on, I barely touched you. I want you to meet someone.” Roman said as he held your arm in his grip leaving to navigate the crowd. “You have treehouse access right?”

“I was talking to Rava, Rome!” You said trying to squirm your way out of his grip.

“She’ll still be there and if not, you can get brunch and get drunk off mimosas and cry over those really mean but rich Roy men.” He teased as he said the last half of that sentence in a mock crying voice.

“Jesus, Rome!” You sighed. “Who are you introducing me to?”

“Lukas Matsson.”

“Wait what?” You halted in your tracks making Roman stop his walk, he turned to face you looking irritated that you’d delayed his plans. You weren’t too familiar with the name but you recognised it, certain that Kendall had mentioned it earlier in the week.

“Kendall won’t give me fucking treehouse access!” Roman practically shouted, loud enough to be heard over the party, and then his voice quietened down to a more reasonable volume. “And Matsson’s like a weird, bored giant apparently so I’m introducing you two. I don’t know, maybe money once removed from the family business is new money’s type?”

“Before we even get into what you just said, did you only come to Kendall’s party because of that guy?” You sighed and asked looking at Roman. He scoffed and looked down for a moment, kicking at nothing.

“It’s in our name isn’t it?” He looked back up, with a smirk on his face.

“Oh my god Rome.”

“What, come on. You’re my little sister, not my mom so maybe quit that tone, yeah? And maybe Matsson will be a philanthropist and you can get off your moral high horse and you two can fuck it out and I’ll be namedropped in your wedding speeches. Doesn’t sound too shabby for a Roy does it?” Rome quipped, in his cartoony, douche voice, signalling that talking to him was a losing battle. “Just get me in, maintain a conversation for a couple of minutes and I won’t tell everyone about that summer with mom.”

“You’re such a tool.” You huffed out and started walking towards the treehouse.

“You adore me.” Roman teased as he held your arm less tightly than before as you made your way over.

“So, as the adored older brother you are, you’re trying to pimp me out for a business deal?”

Roman just laughed at that and didn’t answer. But that verbal silence minus the laugh was more than enough of an answer. You entered the treehouse with surprisingly little fuss. You looked around and raised an eye at Roman.

“The Swedish giant over there. Come on, get that award-winning therapist smile out. If you diagnose him with something in five minutes, I might say happy birthday to Ken-doll.”

“You’re literally the biggest jerk of my brothers right now, you know that right? And I have three, so that kind of says a lot.” You said quietly, as Roman and you made your way over to the tall blonde man that looked bored out of his brains. “Full disclosure, I’m telling Ken about this.”

“Ugh, you’re such a bitch. Do you really need to be a narc?” Roman said as you both continued to walk over.

You rolled your eyes at your brother, as you got closer you were able to fully see the tall blond man. Personally, you thought it was almost rude, the way he was sitting and playing some crappy game on his phone, looking the most bored you’d ever seen someone. He was like a child dragged along on errands with their parent but wanting to be anywhere but there. Roman started the conversation with him, he said your name as a means of introduction and the Swede visibly perked up slightly.

“The youngest Roy finally comes out to play!” Lukas said with the look of an overexcited child.

“I suppose so.” You pause for a second. “It’s nice to meet you, Lukas.”

“Romey, I think you should get your sister a drink, she looks thirsty…”

You shudder at that, he hadn’t given you good vibes and this was uncomfortable, you looked at Roman to beg him not to leave you alone with Matsson but he completely ignored you and went off.

“So you’re not in the family business essentially at all, right?” Lukas asked as he quirked his brow as he looked you up and down.

“Nope, my involvement is pretty non-existent.” You paused for a moment watching him. Rome would owe you big time for whatever the fuck this is you thought. You hated it. “But based on my brother’s eagerness over you, I’m assuming that you’re looking at an in?”

“To the business or the family?” He has a large smirk on his face as if he’s said the wittiest thing ever. Lukas leans forward in his chair watching you intently.

“I was meaning business but I guess there’s not much separation in family or business matters there.” Lukas raises an eyebrow briefly at that, he’s not surprised at that observation but he is a little taken aback at your air of candour.

But that’s how you are with everyone. You tell yourself that if Roman didn’t want you to say such things, he wouldn’t have left you alone, he knows you. He was practically asking for it by bringing you into this awkward mess of an interaction.

“The business potentially, I suppose the family is a bit more complicated…” He teases.

“Buy into Waystar, you’re in the Roy’s den somewhere.” You respond somewhat cynically and absentmindedly as you look away trying to find Roman or well any familiar face.

“Well, Miss Roy-” The way he says it makes you shudder and you immediately correct him.

“Dr. Roy.” His eyebrows raise again, he looks borderline amused and laughs a little. He has the nature of a spoiled child in a tall, 40-something-year-old’s body you think.

“Dr. Roy. Sorry, you’re not quite what I was expecting.”

“Why, did you meet my sister first? Then Rome?” You quip back with a dry chuckle.

It wasn’t the first time and you knew it wouldn’t be the last time that somebody had said something to that effect, often because of what they’d assumed based on either their interactions with your family members or the general reputation of your family.

“I haven’t met her yet. But no, you’re just different- which I’d heard of course, but still. It’s different seeing different in the flesh you know?” “I guess so.” “Not a bad thing though.”

“Well thanks, I really needed that ego boost.” You sigh.

He licks his lips and leans even closer, “Did you maybe want to head out? I’d love to pick your delightful brain amongst other things-”

“How the fuck did Ken get you here Matsson?” Stewy’s voice cuts in, more serious than usual.

Lukas doesn’t seem to notice and they must be acquainted you think, it doesn’t surprise you though. If Ken knows him, Stewy’s bound to, and regardless of Ken, Stewy magically knows everyone. You look up at Stewy, feeling slightly more relaxed as he stands near your chair. He doesn’t look at you, not even for a second which is unusual for him, even at public events. There’s always some acknowledgement in his eyes at the very bare minimum.

You knew that Stewy was coming tonight but you didn’t expect to see him so soon. Like every event you both attended, your entrances and exits were perfectly timed. Coordinated flawless, unsuspicious executions. You’d come 3 hours earlier than Stewy to this and you’d leave with at least an hour gap between you both. That had been the plan but you didn’t think it had quite been the 3 hours yet, just over 2 hours you thought. It made more sense optics-wise for you to be here longer and Stewy to just pop through.

“Oh, Hosseini- what a sight for bored eyes you are man,” Matsson says as Roman appears.

“There, slurp up.” Roman’s eyes hesitantly shift to Stewy as he hands you the mysterious alcoholic drink for your ‘thirst’.

“I’m not drinking that.” You quickly respond, giving the drink back to Roman and he rolls his eyes, nonchalantly taking a generous sip from the glass as if to prove a point.

“Shouldn’t you be in a bathroom with Kendall somewhere?” Roman directs at Stewy.

“No, unfortunately, we’re waiting. They’re all occupied.” His eyes meet Roman’s but before they do he finally makes eye contact with you, his gaze is firm and he doesn’t look impressed.

The whole energy of this interaction is making you severely uncomfortable. You’d seen and heard of Stewy giving others non-impressed glances and quips but you’d never seen him make eye contact with you before with an expression like that. That paired with Roman and Matsson playing some weird business game of chicken at Kendall’s birthday was not how you wanted to spend the night. You wished you were still talking to Rava or chatting to Willa wherever she and Connor were. Or that you were home. That was the ideal situation here. There’s a tense air between everyone and despite it being earlier than being agreed upon, you’re ready to head off now. You’d already talked to Ken and given him a present, seeing him and showing face for a bit for his sake was the priority of the evening.

“I need to go-” You start to say before you’re cut off.

“Don’t abandon us, Dr Roy!” Lukas exclaims playfully like a spoilt child.

“Sorry but I need to hit the powder room, I’m on my period.” You lie in a manner as if you’re just bluntly stating a fact as you stand up. Stewy chuckles softly, it's the softest you’ve seen his eyes look all night, well for all of the duration of your awkward interaction with Matsson. While Stewy sees through the lie and you’re sure that Roman does as well, the false candour, unfortunately, intrigues Lukas more.

“Regular? Super? Wait, just bring me back your tampon please?” Roman asks looking up at you.

“I don’t use tampons.” You sigh as you start to walk off. Immediately regretting your genuine candour this time.

“Right, sorry.” Roman then looks at Lukas and Stewy. “Well you’ve seen my mum’s vagina tonight but here’s a secret about my sister’s, it’s that tight she can’t use tampons.”

You glare at Roman who looks absolutely chuffed with himself, he starts to giggle like the child he still is inside and you roll your eyes. Stewy looks at you with a very tight lip smile, struggling not to laugh, even with jealousy coursing through his veins.

“Maybe stop talking about your family’s vaginas Rome?” Stewy raises an eyebrow at Rome.

“I don’t know how I always forget about your condition, always snapping dicks. Serial pad user this one.” Rome says to you, directing it at Matsson and completely ignoring Stewy.

“I don’t have vaginismus which is a very real and not a birthday tech/finance bro over drinks discussion, so stop implying that please and go back to your weird networking.” You say as you walk off, not looking back at the trio of the men.

“Moderna vagina dentata!” Roman calls out after you.

“She’s like a diplomatic firecracker right?!” Lukas laughs looking at Roman who smirks and shrugs.

**************

You finish washing your hands and unlock the door, getting ready to leave. You’ve gone toilet and you know Roman will be busy sucking up to Matsson and you can make a quick, silent, unnoticed exit. You’ve stepped out and are leaving the bathroom but as soon as you do you feel hands immediately pounce on you, it’s a blur at first and you initially flinch but quickly see it’s Stewy.

“Get in.” He says as he holds your hips firmly, guiding you back into the bathroom.

Stewy’s hands leave your body for a moment as he locks the door behind him once you’re both in but they quickly return to where they previously were.

“Somebody might’ve seen-”

“I don’t fucking care.” He says as he presses his lips against your neck, pinning you to the wall. “Everyone can know baby.” You scoff slightly at that.

“Well, that’s interesting and surprising, considering you wouldn’t look at me two minutes ago.” He stops kissing your neck and sighs, he tilts his head against your shoulder. “What was going on Stewy? We’re always amicable in public…” You gently probe.

He nods as his head is still pressed against your shoulder, he sighs again and tilts his head. You can feel his breath on your collarbone and his fastidiously trimmed beard brushes against you, it’s a brief little burn. In another moment it would probably feel more ticklish than it does right now, you’d probably giggle at it like you have in the past.

“What if we weren’t?” Stewy implores. You pause for a moment, deciphering his meaning.

“And be what…hostile?” You question somewhat incredulously.

A change in the method of the public side of your relationship now would surely draw more attention, it certainly would raise eyebrows and questions from those closest and it would become ridiculously complicated. Even with you not being involved at Waystar.

“No, no. Just open. No more running around, hiding, game of fucking cat and mouse. We don’t even need to say anything, we can just do it. It’s so simple.” He’s moved his handsome head so he’s now looking at you with those wide brown orbs. You exhale slightly and move your hands so that they’re now combing through his hair. It’s handsomely styled but you like it when it has less product and his natural curls are freer.

“What’s prompting this?”

“And that’s relevant?”

“I’m just surprised, can you please talk to me?” You ask softly, pleading with him as you continue to gently run your hands through his hair. His hand is rubbing a burning circle on your waist. His eyes are wide and there’s something there that you don’t think you’ve seen before, he almost seems manic.

“I didn’t like that discussion out there baby.” He says, his tone becoming a bit more serious.

“This might come as a surprise to you honey but I also am not a fan of when Rome talks about Shiv’s and I’s reproductive systems.” You reply, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“No, I-I didn’t like that but I was meaning with Matsson.”

“Oh, he’s a creep.” You immediately respond.

“You’re telling me.” He kisses your lips softly but quickly deepens it, his hands firmly grip onto your hips. You lightly tug on his hair as you moan into his mouth. “He was eye-fucking you like his goonie life depended on it.”

You chuckle at how he describes it but his face is serious, similar to how it was when he came over during that awful interaction. You don’t know why it took you so long to pinpoint it, it’s jealousy. Stewy Hosseini was jealous.

Stewy Hosseini was jealous of that interaction, even though you’d both immediately agreed Lukas Matsson was a creep. You kiss him softly and move one of your hands to his shoulder. He eagerly returns the kiss back, filled with hunger.

“Stewy?” You ask quietly.

“Yes?”

“Are you jealous…?”

His brow noticeably furrows at that question, it’s quite a sight. His hair was now tousled and curlier from your tugging and raking through them, his eyes wide with lust and the aforementioned jealousy and his lips kiss-swollen. He was painfully handsome and you wished that you two weren’t in a bathroom at a party.

“Did you only just put that together baby?” He asks after watching you for a moment, a cocky smirk on his face. You sigh with a small nod and roll your eyes, which just makes his smirk grow even more. “I don’t want anybody to ever look at you like that again and nobody ever gets to touch you but me.”

He immediately presses his face against yours for another passionate and extremely hungry kiss, you open up your mouth for him and he immediately accepts the invitation. It’s a fiery clashing of teeth and lips, you quickly get lost in it, one hand gripping onto his shoulder as the other one tugs on his hair not so gently this time.

He groans out against your mouth as you tug on his locks. His hand pinches your hip before he moves it down and then pushes up your dress, his hand then dances along your thigh while the other bruisingly pinches your hip.

You moan out against his lips as his fingers press against your underwear, you can feel him pressing his fingers against you and dancing along the clothed area. You writhe slightly against him at the pressure.

His lips leave yours and he kisses along your jaw, trailing the kisses down your neck. He sucks and licks softly around your pulse, then as his mouth gets closer to your collarbone he nips you teasingly. You whine out at the sensation as your fingers dig deeper into his hair and he immediately kisses over where he’d bit you.

As he does this, he pushes your underwear to the side so that his fingers can slip through. Your arousal had already started to quickly build between your legs and now he was able to take advantage of that. You moan out as his fingers now run through your folds without the barrier of your underwear, he slips a finger inside of you as his thumb gingerly traces over your bundle of nerves. He kisses your shoulder as he hears your breathing quickly change.

“You’re so beautiful like this, you know that right?” Stewy asks. His voice was slightly more gentle. “Nobody else ever gets this.” He says more firmly.

“Only you Stewy.” You breathe out as calmly as you can manage as he inserts a second finger into you. He continues on with his ministrations as he kisses along your neck, reaching that spot he knows you cannot ever get enough of.

“That’s my girl.” He chuckles as he leaves your neck to kiss your lips again. You're desperate to feel him, it can’t have been more than 2 minutes since his lips left yours but you need to feel him there again. Especially when he’s having his way like this with you. You need Stewy in every sense of the meaning.

His kiss to your mouth is firm and hungry, you get lost in the feeling of his plump lips as he continues to overwhelm you and provide the most delectable of sensory overwhelms that you could ever imagine. But it is of course, unfortunately not long enough. The world’s longest kiss wouldn’t be long enough with Stewy though, which you of course know but it never stops you from wanting, needing longer, needing and craving more.

When he breaks the kiss, Stewy slides down to his knees on the floor of the bathroom. In your right mind, you’d probably be too focused on the unhygienic nature of this environment but you don’t even think of that. You are just desperate for Stewy, aching for him in any and every way in which you can have him. You don’t think anyone has ever felt as desperate for someone as you do for Stewy.

He expertly but gently spreads your legs out, putting one over his shoulder as he softly kisses along your thighs. The kisses are soft and hot and as you feel his breath against your sensitive thighs, you feel your core clench and every nerve ending of yours tingle in desire and anticipation for him.

Stewy continues to pump his fingers in and out of you as his kisses get closer to your core, you squirm slightly as he does. He gives a few gentle kisses to your vulva, your arousal is covering his fingers and running down his hands and he licks through your folds. Softly groaning at that as you let out a whimper at the contact, the noise coming from you is so beautiful, melodic to Stewy.

The noise spurs him on and his tongue gingerly circles around your bundle of nerves, the pressure is so perfect and the build-up from his teasing and the making out just adds to the feeling. Your hands tangle in his dark hair, gripping it for leverage and as a way to communicate just how he makes you feel. He continues to lick and kiss at your clitoris and you know it won’t be long till you reach your peak at this rate.

Stewy’s fingers continue at their work, getting deeper and reaching that spongy spot that makes you sharply gasp. Stewy smirks against you as he hears that, he hums against your bundle of nerves and the vibrations make you shudder, bringing you so much closer.

“Oh my god, Stewy!” You moan out as you roughly tug at his hair.

“Come on, come for me, baby. I want to taste you and feel it all over my face.” He says in between kisses to your bundle of nerves and around it. You nod and he continues to finger you and to give your clitoris attention, it isn’t much longer until you feel your climax coming on.

“I’m going to- oh baby!” You whimper out, and he continues at the same pace as you shake against him as your peak arrives and you ride it out. He smirks against you as he tastes you.

After your orgasm, he stays there, looking up at you in awe for a moment, supporting your body as it’s still somewhat weakened from that orgasm. He then stands back up, he pulls your dress back down and smirks. Stewy holds your hip gently and his free hand comes up to gently stroke your cheek. The pad of his thumb feels so soft against your cheek. You can’t help but smile at him, so absolutely in love with him and he returns the grin.

“You might want to clean that up, honey.” You say with a smirk as you lean against the wall, enjoying the feeling of him pressed against you so intimately.

“Nope.” He immediately firmly says.

“Nope?”

“I don’t care who knows, honestly I want everyone to know. Everyone should know about us and that I’m the only one who gets this baby. Fuck Matsson, fuck anyone else.”

“I think a decision like this should have a proper conversation, one that isn’t just jealously induced sweetie.” You respond as softly as you can, as you close your eyes for a moment. You hear a small scoff.

“Such a tease.” He says and you can’t help but smile when seeing the devilish expression on his face. He’s simultaneously charming, and handsome but also arrogant and you love it so much.

“I don’t want you to regret it.” You genuinely mean it. “I never would.” He immediately responds.

“I love you.”

It’s not a conversation you can have right now, the bathroom at your brother’s 40th birthday party is not the right environment for this. It needs to be one at home that isn’t post-sex acts either.

“I love you too.” He says as he rubs his forehead and sighs briefly. “Go home, I’ll leave fifteen minutes after you. I know- small risk but it’s worth it.” You chuckle and kiss him on the cheek. “I expect you to be in bed waiting when I get there though.” He says earnestly but still playfully. That’s your Stewy, always playful and blunt.

“Sure thing Mr. Hosseini, maybe write me a love poem on the way home?” You tease with a small giggle.

“Oh baby, you didn’t get my love poem?” He has that loveable but chaotic, cocky smirk on his face.

“What?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“That was my love poem.” As he delivers that line his smirk somehow grows by ten times. You roll your eyes at him as you kiss him on the lips softly. “Wait, do I need to better emphasise next time?” He teases with a wicked grin and laughs.

“Get better material, Hosseini.” You immediately quip back with a smirk as you leave the bathroom stall to make an Irish Goodbye from Kendall’s birthday to go home, our home you think.

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mphountitled · 11 months

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𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐕𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 | 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧

Lukas Matsson x Fem!Reader | Kendall Roy x Fem!reader

Summary: Kendall had always been a competent, steady boyfriend, but there is always, always room for improvement.

Warnings: Language, Politics, Business, Cheating, Mentions of murder, Smut (+18) Minors DNI, CNC, Rough Sex, choking, degradation, ownership kink, dom/sub dynamics. Roman as his own warning.

I am mentally unwell, and so is Matsson.

Due to your perilous schedule as a political and public figure, arguing with your lover had never really made it past scheduling in the smorgasbord of your career. Perhaps that is why Kendall decided to pick unnecessary fights in the middle of a Swedish trip. He felt, and rightfully so, infinitesimally insignificant when compared to the hellscape that is your established career in the American political sphere.

You can see it in the way his broad shoulders hunch slightly, the way his larger lower lip protrudes into a petulant pout.

You're appalled.

"Kendall, you can't be fucking serious," Your first night on Matsson's retreat was scheduled to be filled with myriad orgasms in myriad uncanny positions. You and Kendall should be christening this luxury suite, but, instead you find your voice has climbed to ungodly octaves to a point that you feared you may shatter the glass wall that displayed the quiet Norwegian woods.

You couldn't give even half a shit as to whether others housed in adjoining tree-house suites might hear your furious bickering.

"You're a fucking child," he says lowly, desperately trying to regain control over the situation but only fumbling it by the second, "Do you know that?"

"No!" You exclaim, "Iverson and Sophie are!" He turns his back to you. Your nails dig into the bedsheets, "Those are your actual children, yeah!? When was the last fucking time you called them!? You're too busy measuring your dick against the Swedes- you're too busy to give Rava a fucking call."

"I have met plenty of selfish sociopaths in my day, Kendall, but this is unfathomable." His shadow falls over you like a second cloud in the already darkened suite's interior.

"Did she put you up to this?" He asks in that manic state of his with his hand pointed outward in condemnation of his most recent enemy.

"Are you aware that you have children together? You will know her for the rest of your life, are you aware of that?"

Kendall is quick to deflect, "Fuck! I can't catch a fucking break. Of course you run to my ex and- and- what? You fucking-meet up at Tasha's. Fucking talking about Kendall's cock-rings over your croissants."

You withhold the urge to laugh by letting a wave of fury wash over you anew. "You didn't even tell them their grandfather died before you dragged us out to fucking Norway, Kendall! That's unhinged! You're unhinged!"

"I'm perfectly hinged!" He says, turning away from you, pyjama pants billowing as he grabs his keys and a pack of cigarettes, "I'm like the doors on fucking Downing street, motherfucker," He speaks lowly. Voice simmering. "I'm fucking hinged."

The door slams with finality, leaving you clinging to your robe in front of a backdrop full of trees.

There's a deeply sated sigh that leaves your throat as you haul yourself over the Egyptian linen sheets. Fighting with Kendall had always been an impossible feat- something akin to yelling obscenities at a brick wall smeared with cocaine, but it always left you marginally satisfied after. A part of you felt like you might be saving him.

There is a frown, slight and not at all visible in the low evening light, drifting across your face as you stare down at yourself with disappointment and a hint of disapproval. Kendall was supposed to rip this robe right off you the second you got out of the shower. But, instead, you find yourself turning on your side, staring at the pines beyond the glass.

The sound of the door clicking open, ruins the serenity that had begun to settle.

"I for sure thought you'd gone and blown your head off for real this time, Ken." You mumble monotonously while staring ahead at the glass.

"While all these hungry vultures at my retreat does make me lean into the sound of suicide, I quite enjoy living."

You're quick to pull your unravelled rope across your frame as you sit up against the oak headboard.

"Not Kendall." He says.

Matsson towers enough to hunch slightly and disrupt the flow of the sleek, vertical finishes.

"Why are you here?"

"Well it is my retreat."

He smiles. Or at least you believe that he believes he is smiling. Sharks can't smile, you don't think.

"My house."

Lukas shoves his hands in pockets as he continues to stare at you. His disciplined eyes never stray or drift across your exposed legs, they never gloss over your deadly grip on the tightened robe digging into the plushness across your middle.

He's staring at you. Eyes boring into eyes.

"I've come to deliver a noise complaint."

"Consider it delivered."

He does not leave. Instead, he delves deeper into your space, the space shared with your boyfriend. You watch carefully as Matsson plants himself on the edge of the bed. There is an air of nervousness that bristles throughout the Norwegian woods as he brings one leg up to cross the other. You watch, entranced by how the soft Tom Ford sweatpants crease slightly under his fluid movements. His beige Balenciaga shirt sits comfortably and it elicits a sense of control as he makes himself comfortable in front of you.

The one thing you could never allow yourself to be was intimidated, and intimidation is all you heard from the mouths that affirmed this man. However, the subtle yet suffocating label whoring, the designer sandals…

He was just another man, suffocated by the weight of his own money. He had everything to prove. That gave you control.

"I didn't know when Kendall brought me on this trip that I was to be subjected to an invasion of privacy,"

"I heard you the first time," He says, chuckling in complete condescension, "I am aware you're here with Kendall. You don't have to bring him up the whole fucking time."

"Are you here under work pretences then? I'm not involved in the hellscape that is ATN, nor the Nazi wonderland that is Waystar so I would make a lousy spy."

"I know who you are," his eyes dart away, giving you enough time to break slightly, take heavier breaths and compose yourself, "I've seen the work you are… attempting to accomplish in that flaccid dick of a country," His gaze is back on you, "And while I do applaud you, politics bores me. You're all fucked anyway, I just came here to enquire if you would like to have sex with me?"

The manner in which he says those words, so calmly and succinctly, has you praying for another moment of regeneration while he darts his eyes away.

"You mean the noise complaint was a fluke?"

"In addition to the noise complaint, I would like to sleep with you, yes."

You're practically suffocted with the over abundance of choice. Matsson would be a fun and interesting side project for you to sink your claws into and manipulate with the added advantage of sex.

But there is a darkness lurking behind this man's gaze that promises far too much risk with little to no reward.

"No, I think I'm good. Thanks for stopping by, Lukas. It was certainly not a pleasure talking to you-"

You speak calmly, shuffling off the bed so you can escort him to the door. "Please find yourself outside of my personal and habitual space kindly and quickly-" but the axis tilts, and he does a daring thing by encircling a strong grip on your forearm. You try to lurch your arm out of his iron grip but it's fucking sealed around you like a constricting python. The darkness seems so incredibly poignant. God, all this man holds is darkness.

"I did not ask for myself." He says with a hint of condescension, "I asked for you." Matsson has you locked between his spindly legs while your robe billows open. Your face warms as you feel coolness settle against your exposed stomach but Lukas' eyes never leave your own.

From this angle, there is no chance to look away. Everything is maximised, from the wrinkles running like river channels underneath his bright blue eyes to the slight overbite in his teeth, perhaps his only external flaw.

What a dangerous individual.

"They're Roys." Lukas says, "He's a Roy," You suddenly feel juvenile and bashful, as you take the scolding, "You should know better,"

You're only vaguely aware that the distance between you two has been lessening because the air feels warmer. His breath is mixing with yours and his hand is doing a funny little dance along your forearm. "You should know better," He says.

And perhaps you should have closed the distance, perhaps you should have chased him away. You certainly should not have waited for a pair of irregular footsteps approaching to finally push the lumbering man away from you. Thankfully, he kindly obliged although Matsson's hand stalled, still rubbing against your elbow when Kendall stumbles in.

"Uh, what the fuck are you doing here? What the fuck is he doing here?" Kendall's eyes are tired and bloodshot and you step away from Lukas' gravitational pull as you curl into Kendall's side. Kendall's suede Versace jacket is cool but his skin is warm as you burrow into the side of his neck. Your guilt worsens as you feel Kendall's arm curl around your waist.

You speak into Kendall's ear, loud enough for Lukas to hear, "Matsson is still trying to rape your company, I'm afraid. " You say with a lazy smile.

"Already raped," Says Lukas, shuffling passed the two of you, "Logan was the decision maker, remember?"

Before the man finds himself over the threshold, Kendall speaks up.

"Hey, no more private visits, yeah? Not cool."

You watch with bated breath as Matsson only cracks a toothy lopsided grin before tapping the wood of the doorframe and disappearing.

That evening had ended, like most of the evenings to come, with angry, jealousy-fueled sex. There had always been a distinct animosity between Kendall and Matsson but whatever had been in the air seemed to triple. Kendall kept you close during the entire experience. He kept you under Kremlin-level surveillance but he couldn't be with you all the time. In the moments you found yourself without Kendall, Matsson would appear from out of the shadows like a demon, slinking behind you with a hand ghosting your hip. He watched you from above the rim of whiskey-filled tumblers and even asked for your input whenever conversation within the group got a little political. One such conversation had the unfortunate interjection of one Roman Roy, who saw you as another toy in his toy box.

"What do you need two assistants for anyway?" The grinding of your teeth come to a deafening halt as you turn your head to face the youngest Roy. The smile on your face is amicable, some might even call it polite, but it is a well enough facade veneering the tempest brewing beneath.

"What- does Jess hold your balls while you tell knock-off Maya Angelou here" He points to you, "-to bend her head and suck?"

There were a number of things you simply allowed when it came to your courtship with Kendall Roy. You would even shame yourself into admitting that you might have found Kendall's overall emotional incompetence and dysfunctional family quite endearing in the beginning. But, like every magnificent, spine curling orgasm, the magic ebbed away quickly and soon, you were left with nothing but the wetness of his cum, cooling between your thighs.

That is what Kendall and his siblings were like most times.

Cooling, diabolical cum.

"Rome, come on." And therein lay Kendall's consistent, valeant response, of which he chose to defend you.

Rome. Come on.

Simply hearing those words leave his brother's mouth with even the faintest hint of disapproval sent Roman into a frenzy (you could see his pupils dilating and his cock hardening from your spot on a couch adjacent to Roman and Shiv). Matsson's entire foyer was set alight with amicable, drunken murmurs, of which Greg's nervous whimpers were occasionally heard peppered in.

Tom had retired to bed, (whether that would be in the same suite as Shiv, would be a satisfactory cup of tea you would divulge with your girlfriends later.) Matsson and his followers sat in their own private harem in a corner beside you.

"What?" Roman cries, slamming back a handful of ground nuts (an admittedly clever substitute for Swedish alcohol) "I was just asking a question. I know your people like to claim reparations for a lot of shit these days but I'm sure enquiring about the girl my big brother's fucking doesn't equate to slavery."

Although you hated the little demon with every bright blue blood cell running through your arteries, you did admire the sure-fire way he would spit his hateful vitriol.

"I appreciate the faux-concern, Roman." You keep it curt, cute and even forgiving, hoping he might take the win and leave you to down the last of your Hennessey in peace.

"That's your cue," Kendall announces, "Drop it."

"Look at how wet she's getting from my rich white brother finally using his voice to defend her for once." The conversation between the Swedes had long since ceased and your throat clogs as the music tins through hidden speakers. "Kenny so clearly has a type," Says Roman, now facing his brother with his elbows steepled on his knee. "I bet you couldn't wait to dive into that plethora of liberal pussy, could you, big brother?"

Your patience had long since snapped and your words are flying before you could stop them, "Considering you couldn't even get pussy without catching a rape charge or an incredibly disappointed prostitute, I'll assume this pseudo-incest interest you have in Kendall's sex life is normal,"

Roman only laughs, "No amount of sick burns is going to release you from the fact that your fucking a crackhead. Maybe it's the money," he taps the bottom of chin in a flamboyant display of consideration, "Although if it's raping our company that's your main goal, the Swedes might have you beat." Matsson straightens in your periphery, not by a lot but by enough to have a stoney smile cracking across your face.

"ATN is not my vice. Racist Propaganda doesn't get me as wet as it gets you, Roman."

"How convenient. I thought all Leftys held special orgys dedicated to besmirching racist propoganda."

Your response was already loaded in the back of your throat, aimed and ready to fire at Roman with reckless abandon. If it weren't for Lukas' interjection, you would have hoped to leave the little man bleeding all over Matsson's marble floors.

"You let him talk to your woman like that?" The rest of the party had left this specific ring of people behind, but that seemed okay. Everyone within the circle, the important people, were silent as Matsson turned his attention to a floundering Kendall.

"Maybe worry about your situation over there and I'll worry about mine."

"I'm not worried." Says Lukas, with a fierce stoicism that was so unique to him. Your heart rate speeds up ever so slightly as the couch groans while Lukas begins to rise. His friends each hold knowing smiles. Hungry smiles.

"Would you like to know why I'm not worried?" Asks Lukas, advancing with a slow gait. You turn your head just in time to watch Kendall's Adam's apple against his throat. He was speechless as per usual when the discussion didn't involve drugs or stock prices.

"Ask." Says Lukas as he advances. "Ask me why I'm not worried."

Upon you first meeting, you had found Lukas' height to be quite rude and unbecoming. You expected him to duck down, almost out of courtesy for the rest of the world laying low underneath him. As his shadow falls over you and Kendall, you find yourself grateful for this giant man making your boyfriend feel small for once- almost as small as you were made to feel around the Roys.

"Why aren't you worried?" Kendall's voice is still masked with confidence as he peers up at Matsson.

Matsson, who's teeth glint in the low evening light, like a hungry shark. He bends down low. You move slightly out of the way as he whispers into Kendall's ear.

"Because I'm gonna fuck her, okay?"

Absolute silence grows pregnant between the two and you're left to do nothing but watch as the exchange unfolds and Kendall's perceived control over everything and everyone unravels. His mouth opens and closes slightly while Matsson watches with a sadistic sort of pleasure in his eye…

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"Nothing," Says Lukas, having returned to his full height. "I didn't say anything. I just asked your-" His blue eyes darts to you and back, "-friend, if she'd like to see my bookshelf in the living room. I saw her reading Bronte earlier," Matsson shrugs, "Thought I might extend the invitation."

Lukas is not one to wait for confirmation, nor is he a man that waits for validation. He shuffles out his foyer, quite comfortably leaving present company behind with his hands stuffed in his pockets. No rebuttal from Kendall needed.

"Where the hell do you think you're going? What are you doing?" You lift yourself from the couch, ironing out the invisible creases on your plaid Chanel skirt as your eyes dart to Roman, now in idle conversation with Siobhan.

"They're just books, Kendall." You sigh softly. "You can't honestly believe I'd be any safer here." You deliver one final gaze at his lesser appealing siblings before following Matsson out of the foyer. The amount of people congesting the dark corridors lessen as you venture further into Matsson's abode. The walls are built with a dark, heavily sanded stone. Something casting a very ominous, yet unmistakably earthy glow throughout the corridor as the mouth spills into a large and defining living room. The colours are dark. The coal walls are all encompassing and Matsson stands beside a low leather couch, waiting rather awkwardly for your arrival.

"There is no library or bookshelf." He says with his hands still stuffed in the pockets of his sweats.

"I figured. You strike me as someone that would keep all their books stored on some gadget."

"Technology and leisure are the two civilizers of man," He says, watching you with bated breath as you slink around his living room, eyeing but never once prodding his things.

"Don't misquote Disraeli, it's not very attractive."

Matsson seems to relax at that, opting to take a step closer to you as he speaks, "I'll misquote Disraeli as much as I want. The 'increased means and increased leisure' part seems a little far-fetched." Your heart begins to hammer in your chance at the advancing man and you turn, whether out of cowardice or bashfulness, choosing rather to examine the sculpture along his mantle.

Your back begins to straightens as warmth radiates from him. He does not move but he cages you in. You would not be able to leave his sphere even if you wanted to.

"We don't have to fuck, obviously. It just didn't seem safe for you to stay in that situation."

You turn slowly and you find yourself slightly jarred by Matsson's proximity. His turtleneck hugs a string and definite build and the hunger in his eyes melts all inhibitions.

"I don't need saving."

"I'm talking about the little angry man." He says, referring to Roman. "I've seen your debates. It's the little nugget of American politics I find myself quite entertained by and I have no desire to wipe a Roy's blood off my floors this evening."

His words end up snapping any and all inhibition as you're throwing yourself quite mercilessly at him. The kiss is silent but so inexplicably charged allowing you to bump into various pieces of furniture in the process of pushing you up against the nearest stone wall. A wall that is cold to the touch, eliciting a surprised gasp which fuels Lukas all the more. He displays wet slobbering kisses down the nape of your neck as he murmurs drunkenly in your ear.

"I like seeing you like this. I like seeing you among my things." The conviction present in his gravelly vibrato has a pool of wetness gathering in between your legs. Your arm circles around his broad back until your pulling, rather roughly at the blonde hair curling at the nape of neck. This had consequently been a morbid mistake because his grip travels to your throat lightning fast, compressing a dangerous weight on your oesophagus as he rips his lips away from your throat.

"You don't get to do that," he says far too casually. "You don't get to assume control when you are here in my house with my things."

Matsson keeps his eye trained on you but your focus in compounded, solely, on his wandering hand tracing the hem of your skirt. "Hey, hey, hey." As you strive to keep watch of his wandering hand, Matsson moves his head into your line of vision.

"My things. Yeah? You're apart of that now."

As his hand inches underneath your skirt you're suddenly flooded with a wave of unfamiliar emotions - fear being the most poignant and defining one.

"I don't want to do this anymore-" You're not sure whether you mean it or not but you're quite certain that Matsson doesn't care. You're suddenly truly aware that you had released something you don't really know how to control.

"Bullshit, you don't want to do this anymore." You finally feel his hand sliding into your panties and your legs wavers underneath you, "Your words say stupid shit," Sings Lukas as his fingers ghost over your swollen clothes, "But your cunt just can't seem to lie." His grip on your throat tightens before relaxing as he brings your head up to his lips. "You're fucking soaked."

"I'll fucking sue you," Although you're unable to assume a single confident tone as his fingers begin to play with your cunt, "I'll fucking take you to court for fucking assault, motherfucker."

"You wanna call Kendall for assistance?" He asks, slyly pushing his middle finger deep inside you with no regard for your strangled gasp. "Here, let's call him together. Say 'Kendall!'"

The only thing able to leave your mouth is a straggled moan as Matsson keeps you pinned to the wall by the throat. The sound of your voice - so incoherent and helpless has him evading any sliver of decency he might have had. "Fuck, you're so perfect." He places a chaste kiss on your cheek before spinning you around until he is sandwiched between your body and the wall. "I have to fuck you."

"Watch the door for me," he says, pulling your hips right up against the bulge in his pants. "Watch just in case Kendall, shows up. Right, sweet girl?"

You're nodding dumbly as Lukas hunches his tall frame while grinding his bulge into your backside. He has your skirt lifted, and his shadow casted over you as he murmurs diabolical things into your ear.

"God, you're a fucking slut, you're such a fucking slut." He keeps a grip on your throat while the unoccupied hand reaches around to lift your shirt haphazardly, "No amount of smart ass comments will ever hide the fact that you're just another whore." The casual air with which he degrades has you simultaneously humping the air while you push back against his bulge. It is in that moment when he finally decides to release his aching cock from his sweatpants dotted with precum.

"Jesus Christ, feel how hard you made me. Feel how fucking turned on I am just because you decided to be a stupid slut." You can feel the head of his cock pressing into you until you're unable to hold in the desperation.

"Jesus- Lukas!"

"What? You want me to fuck you? I think you want me to fuck you but I'm not sure." You're unsure of what he's asking, too blinded by the possibility of a carefully curated orgasm.

"Go on." He says, "Ask me to fuck you. Ask me to fuck your pussy while your boyfriend waits just downstairs."

There are tears pooling in your eyes at the sheer lewdness and the unapologetic quality of this betrayal, but your mouth opens and soon, you're shakily crying out. "Please just fuck me, Lukas."

His cock rams into you with a surety that leaves you winded. He seems as if his patience had been waning as well, what with the haggard sigh that leaves his throat and the numerous disquiet groans that float in the air. Despite yourself, you do keep a half-lidded gaze on the entrance, not put off, but rather spurred on with the possibility of your boyfriend finding you being railed by his latest rival. The thought alone has you clenching around Lukas' cock with your orgasm cresting.

"Whatever you're thinking about, I'm going to need you to think about it again- you're so fucking tight."

There's an animalistic quality to the sex- being bent over for him while he rests against a wall, a firm grip on your throats and your tits as he rams himself into you again and again.

It's far too much.

You wouldn't think there was something so ruthless hiding underneath such a calm veneer but that's all it is. All it always had been. A veneer.

"You're not with him anymore, do you hear me?"

"Fuck- Lukas I'm gonna cum soon," his grip on your throat tightens until it vacuums out any and all air. Your hand encircles his wrist, begging for release but to no avail.

"Tell me," he says as he continues to fuck mercilessly into you, "Tell me you don't belong to him." He finally gives you lee-way to talk and you're gasping out your response, "I don't. I don't belong to him," he nods slightly, brows firing as he bites into your shoulders.

"Fuck- I didn't plan to cum inside you-"

"I don't fucking care- I'm really close." Lukas nods quickly before releasing your neck to drag your cheek until your faces are pressed together in a smouldering kiss. "Fuck I'm gonna cum inside you-"

His words already have you diving headfirst into a groundbreaking orgasm. You're crying out helplessly, until Matsson has enough sense to cover your mouth with one large hand. He fucks you through it, filling you with cum as he groans just as loudly as you had been.

"Fuck," he chuckles quietly, "Kendall is not going to like that."

"Kendall," You breath heavily, safely contained in Lukas' comforting grip, "Is not my Keeper."

Lukas delivers a chaste kiss on your cheek, his stubble grazing against the side of your face.

"I plan on killing them anyway." He says, simultaneously unaware and aware that he's drifting into pillowtalk.

"Every last one of them."

#lukas matsson fanfic #lukas matsson smut #lukas matsson x reader #succession fanfic #succession #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy x you #kendall roy smut #lukas matsson #succession season four #succession spoilers #succession smut #lukas matsson x you #lukas matsson x black!reader #kendall roy x black!reader

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flwrbo · 1 year

Text

if you’re going crazy just grab me (and take me)

kendall roy x f!reader (smut) 1.7k words

(summary : sometimes, he really needs you to need him.)

You get no context from your boyfriend as he pulls you through the halls. His hand swallows yours while you speedwalk to keep up with his long strides. A few strange looks are thrown your way from workers at Waystar as the CEO’s stoic son keeps you hot on his trails. It takes everything in you to maintain a straight face, avoiding shrugging at the worried onlookers. The older Roy is sure he’d be reprimanded for his actions by his father but in this moment, he can’t bring himself to care. He can barely focus on anything anymore, red-hot anger taking over his sight a long time ago. In moments like this, it’s almost as if he has tunnel vision.

Only able to see you, pass himself off to the only person he trusts enough to take it out on; The one who can hold him in her hands, and fill him with a need and pride he can’t get anywhere else. All he can focus on is the silky fabric of your dress swaying against your thighs and the way your cheeks are appled from the size of your smile.

The two of you make it into a tiny room, storage of sorts with old desktops and dust files layered about. “I just about, uh, twisted my ankle,” Kendall exhales a small, tension-filled chuckle, pulling you into him with his hand on the small of your back. The adorable sound of your laugh brings a tiny smile to his lips, widened as he kisses you breathlessly.

“We’ll never hear the end of this,” You pull away, face hot. “Roman was already starting before we even left the room,”

The older man shrugs a little. “Let him publicize,” His fingers trace the hem of your dress, teasingly sliding it upwards. “I’ll just deny it all,”

You scoff, “As if we didn’t just run past a few dozen of your dad’s workers. That’ll be a little hard to sell, Ken.” He sighs into your neck, something along the lines of you being ‘so dramatic’ before leaning over to pepper kisses on the side of your throat.

“Fine,” He begins. “Let me worry about that…” Kendall begins walking you backward, slowly leading you to some old desk in the corner. “And you can focus on something else for a little bit.”

Once again, overexcited giggles drop from your lips as your boyfriend hoists you onto the wood. You feel his fingers trace over your dress hem again, breath hitching at the slight tickle. Deep brown eyes stare into yours, calculating every reaction as he slowly reaches the apex of your thighs.

“Tell me. Tell me you want it,” He commands you with his gaze and his words, pinning you to the table.

“I want it. I want it, Kendall,” You whisper, leaning your head down to watch where his hand is hidden beneath the skirt of your silk slip dress.

He moves slowly, so slowly as he drags his fingers over your covered cunt, inhaling sharply at what he feels. “Do you always walk around this fucking wet?” Kendall spits out, as if he’s angry. “Just always fuckin’ ready for me, huh?” His forehead settles against yours as the two of you watch together, his covered hand. He pushes the fabric of your panties aside, allowing the pads of his fingers to swipe against your clit.

He feels your gasp more than he hears it, despite the proximity of your faces together. His bottom lip gets caught between his teeth as he focuses on how to angle his fingers. You breathe deeply as he rubs your clit in the sweetest circular motion. Nothing around you matters as you close your eyes, leaning into the feeling of your boyfriend’s hand in your underwear. “Open your eyes,” He gruffs out, taking hold of your jaw in his other hand. How can you not obey his command immediately? He stares into you as he pushes his fingers inside of you, pushing so perfectly deep. “Tell me you need it,” He begs, curling his fingers in a come-hither motion.

Jaw hanging open in his hand, you let out the sweetest moans as he sinks in and out. You focus on the pleasure, unable to think about anything other than how good he is making you feel. He’s not a fan. Your face gets shaken in his grasp, attaining your attention once more. “Tell me you fucking need me.”

The words spill out of you, begging and pleading. “I need you so bad, Ken, please, fuck me, please,” His fingers pick up motion, the squelch of your wetness filling the air as he stares down into your eyes.

“You need me.” He promises, almost to himself, before kissing you harshly on your open mouth. He swallows your moans, still focused on curling his fingers just right for you. You kiss him back, sloppily, reaching for his belt.

“I need you,” You whisper back against him. “All of you,” The sound of his belt unclasping and your breaths intermingling in the air are heard throughout the room. You sharply inhale as he pulls his fingers out of you, reaching down to pull himself out of his pants. Using the wetness from your cunt, he runs his wet fingers over his cock.

“Spit on it,” He commands, watching as you purse your lips together to drop your saliva on him. He pumps himself a few times, before falling to his knees in front of you.

You’re surprised as he pulls you suddenly to the edge of the desk, hands gripping your plush thighs tightly. “What are you-” You’re cut off by a moan when you feel his mouth suddenly enclose over you, tongue sliding through your folds. You can hear the wet schlick sound of his hand jerking over himself as he messily lapped at your pussy, and for a moment you wonder if any of the Waystar assholes can hear your boyfriend fucking you inside this small, stuffy supply closet. The thought is knocked out of your head when he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks with just the right amount of pressure.

“Kendall!” You cry out at the sudden spike of pleasure, feeling his grip on your thigh tighten as a warning to lower your voice. “Please, fuck me, please, please…” You whine as you hear the pace of his hand pick up from below the desk.

He raises to full height above you, shoving the dress up your hips before meanly hiking your legs up. He uses one hand to shove his work pants a little lower down his legs, before gripping his cock, leading it to your pussy. He pushes the blunt head to you, slowly pushing into you. A free hand comes up to cover your mouth, just in time, to drown the muffled cries that escape you as he reaches the hilt.

He breathes harshly, eyes screwed shut as you drag your fingers down the back of his work button down. You whimper beneath his hand, making his cock twitch inside of you. “I’m gonna move, baby, you have to be quiet,” He slowly pulls all the way out, before steadily pushing himself back in. He feels you nod your head as if promising your silence, and he allows himself to pick up speed.

Your cries are muffled under his big hand, covering half of your face. Your watery eyes look up at him like he’s a God as he pushes his hips back and forth against yours, the sound of skin clapping loudly through the room. The feeling of the old desk moving inch by inch as he piledrives himself into you doesn’t deter him. If anything, it makes him go even harder.

The look of adoration in your eyes makes his head a little dizzy as he continues to fuck you, training his hand down to play with your clit. You need him.

His other hand slowly moves from your face, down to your throat where he squeezes just hard enough to make you squeak a little. He can’t help the wide grin that takes over his face, angling his hips to fuck you perfectly into your sweet spot as he deprives your pretty little head of oxygen. Just a little, though. Just enough to get you to come apart on his cock.

He feels you slowly start to build, and he works hard at making sure not to change a single thing about what he was doing to you. You feel your climax slowly build, struggling to breathe through it under Kendall’s heavy palm. A tear slides down the side of your face as you whimper pathetically around his dick, causing Kendall to rut his hips even harsher into you. He chases his climax, abandoning your throat to use your hips as handlebars.

The two of you stay where you are, slowly breathing one another in, still a little dizzy from the pleasure you just peaked from.

You press a kiss against his forehead sweetly. “I love you, Ken. I love you.”

He pulls his pants back up, bucking his belt before letting his legs finally rest, sitting on the floor. Your dress gets pulled down, and panties fixed into place.

The sexual tension leaves the room, replaced with a different kind of thick air. Wordlessly, you slip down onto your knees, straddling his hips.

Kendall catches his breath, head tipped back with his eyes closed. His hands come back to rest on your hips, softer this time, almost apologetic. You press your face into his neck, inhaling his expensive cologne before pressing kisses sweetly, slowly treading from his neck to his cheeks, over to his nose, and up to his forehead.

He cracks his eyes open after, feeling his heart warmed at the amount of love he can feel rolling off of you in waves. “What happened, Ken?”

He stares at you with unreadable eyes, before shaking his head softly. That’s okay. He’ll be ready to talk about it later, once he’s wrapped sweetly in your arms in your plush bed. He kisses you, gently, filled with as much gratitude as he can pack into a singular gesture.

Your nod is soft and your words are even softer. “Okay. Let’s go home, my love,”

He nods back, but when you go to move, his arms tighten around you.

So you sit there in his arms, holding the breaking man in your gentle palms for just a few moments longer.

#kendall roy x reader #<3.k.l.r #<3.kendall roy #kendall roy smut #succession x reader #succession smut

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starsandsugars · 11 months

Text

Burning Desire

PAIRINGS: shiv roy/f!reader

SUMMARY: you had hoped that working on a work assignment with shiv might make her open up to you. Instead it lead to you 'opening up' in an entirely different way. (NSFW • MINORS DNI)

TAGS: coworkers hooking up, degredation, praise, office crushes, cheating (if you squint)

NOTES: hi guys :) this is my first fic I'm posting on tumblr and my first piece of smut so please be nice and I hope y'all like it!

Your heart hammered in your chest as you felt Shiv's hand press firmer against your mouth, forcing you to keep quiet even as she continued to pump her fingers into you at that ruthless pace. Each stroke of her fingertips hit that perfect spot inside you, drawing out animalistic sounds that were just barely concealed by her. Every little touch made you feel electric, every inch of your body practically vibrating from the pleasure.

As your head tilted back and knocked back against the door, you thank whatever God there was for putting you in this situation.

You had seen Shioban Roy countless times around the Waystar offices, normally in some meeting or getting into an argument with her siblings that half the staff had to witness.

You knew very little about her initially other than what was public knowledge. You had no reason to pay her any mind, but you always felt your eyes drawn to her anyway.

At first you reasoned it was because of the effortless way she commanded the room or the fact that, as Gerri's second in command, she was kind of your bosses boss but as your curiosity began to change shape it became harder and harder to deny.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from her if she walked by your desk, the simple twirl of her hips enough to take your breath away. When she leaned over her desk to talk to you, you just about lost your ability to think clearly. And the one time you saw her kiss her husband in the lobby it filled you with a feeling you refuse to admit even to yourself.

It was ridiculous, and beyond irresponsible.

For one, she was your boss. If that wasn't enough she was married - to the head of news at the company that you work for no less!

You did your best to convince yourself that it was just an office crush. She was a beautiful woman with a touch of power that turned you on more than you wanted to admit. That was surely all it was.

Or it least, that was all it had been, until you got assigned to work on an agreement that Shiv, as President of Operations was hwading. t really wasn't an overly complicated assignment, which is why Gerri handed it over to you, and you expected to be done with it in a couple of days.

As it turns out, that was far from the case. The other company refused to sign, and what could have been a couple meetings turned into long days and nights cooped up in Shiv's office hunched over paperwork.

Your silly crush hadn't gotten away, and had gotten even harder to manage. Now you were close enough to smell her expensive perfume, close enough to hear the edge her voice took when she was telling you to do something.

You tried to push it down, smother it, but the flame only grew brighter with each day you spent together.

Finally, after a million emails and a formally worded threat of litigation, the smaller tech company signed the contract and became a part of the growing monolith that was Waystar Royco.

You had never seen Shiv happier, practically beaming as she went immediately to gloat to her father. You took your things and disappeared back to your own office, expecting that would be the end of your Shiv Roy saga.

You were a little sad to see it end, but you're sure your vibrator will thank you for a break now that you won't have to constantly be so close to her so you prepare yourself to just move on.

You should have known things with her could never be that simple.

Just as you began to catch up with your other work you've been neglecting to help her she pops her head into your office.

"Come out with me to celebrate our win." She says without so much as a 'hello', "Drinks on me."

It wasn't a request so much as a command, but you found yourself agreeing anyway.

With that she turned on her heels, leaving you with a fluttering feeling in your stomach.

You were distracted the rest of the day wondering what she was up to. Did she really just want to celebrate? What was her game here? You knew the Roys well enough to know they never did anything without an agenda.

By the time she came to get you from your office at the end of the day you were all but convinced she was going to fire you. You went with her anyway, heart thumping in your chest as the two of you sat quietly in her private car.

She had her driver take you two to a high end bar that seemed to be pretending to be a dive bar. It was busy, with warm bodies and loud music everywhere. It could almost pass for a normal bar if it weren't for the suits all around and the fact that one of their drinks rang up for twice as much as your hourly wage.

She (thankfully) bought you your drink and turned to gave you fully once you had both settled into a leather booth.

It started off perfectly innocently, talking about you success with the deal and your future at Waystar. Your anxiety began to melt as you realized she really wasn't firing you. In fact, she seemed like she genuinely wanted to talk to you.

You talked your way through another 2 drinks each, both of you slowly opening up to each other. You told her about how much Gerri gets on your case and she tells you about her open relationship with Tom.

She drops it into the conversation casually but the way she blinks her eyes gives her away. She knows exactly what she's doing.

"I mean, I don't control what he does. Why would I let him control me?" She leans a little closer, and the finger tracing the rim of her drink turned into a heavy hand on your thigh.

Her voice lowers as she continues, sending shivers down your spine.

"I sleep with whoever I want. Whenever I want."

Your voice choked up a little as you responded, voice sticking in your throat from the sheer shock of it all.

"Yeah, me too." You manage, drawing a laugh from the redhead.

"Oh yeah?" She teases, eyes twinkling as she whispers into your ear.

"Why don't you come show me?"

Before you can even begin to think better of it her ingers splayed are across your back and she's guiding you to the back of the bar.

She opens a door knowingly and you realize she had planned this. If she had to have an angle, you were glad it was this one.

Once the two of you were inside she pressed you back against the door. The cold metal pulled a shiver from you, but the second her lips were on yours it's like every other sensation melted away. She kissed you like she wanted to consume you and you would be more than happy to let her.

As if reading your thoughts she bit your lip, pulling a little yelp out of her. She grinned and moved her lips against your neck as her hands slid up under your dress. You preened under her touch, breathy moans escaping you despite yourself.

It took only a moment for your panties to be tugged down your legs but she paused before actually touching you. You tired rolling your hips but all she did was brush your clit all too softly.

"Shiv, please." You begged, tapping into the want for submission she so clearly had in her normal life. The tendency clearly extends to sex because as soon as you give her what she wants she finally pushed her fingers into you.

She was clearly skilled with her fingers and she worked you up in no time. You moaned loudly, and she gripped your chin to warn you.

"Be. Quiet."

When you couldn't comply she shoved her hand over your mouth, gripping your cheeks to keep it in place. When you whimpered enough to be heard through her attempted gag she crowded you further against the wall.

"Shut up."

She spoke into your ear, equal parts threat and promise.

"Unless you want us to get caught. Maybe you'd like that. Maybe you want everyone to see what you let me do to you in this bathroom."

She strikes just the right spot inside of you and your thighs begin to quake, fingers clutching desperately to her shoulders. You know you should try to maintain some level of basic self respect but when she looks at you with those hungry eyes you just can't find it in yourself to care.

"God you're such a slut." She says, sounding pleasantly surprised. The words send sparks down your spine and you feel yourself tumble over the edge.

Your mind is hazy and your legs shake so badly she has to use her thigh to prop you up.

Once you had calmed down enough to do something that resembled normal breathing she let you go, smiling like she's just won some kind of contest.

"Good girl. I knew you had it in you." She says, and it's a struggle not to let the praise go straight to your head.

She starts to check her reflection in the mirror over the sink as you stay against the door, trying to make your brain work properly again.

Eventually you come to your senses enough to straighten up and try to appear half as nonchalant as she is.

You approach her, leaning against the sink as you watch her fix her hair.

"You're not going to let me return the favor?" You ask with a tone od faux innocence, trying to talk as if it were about a business deal instead of the most mind blowing orgasm of your life.

"Oh trust me, you're going to." She grins at you in the mirror. "But we're not doing this again in the bathroom. We're going back to my apartment."

She strides right out of the bathroom, knowing you were going to follow her without you having to say a word.

She's not wrong, and you chase after her before you even have the time to realize your panties are still discarded on the bathroom floor.

#shiv roy #shiv roy x reader #succesion #smut #succession smut #shiv roy smut #wlw smut #succession fic #tom wambsgans #kendall roy #roman roy

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

Note

can you do kendall roy fluff + only one bed? ☺️

Forced Proximity.

i. Only One Bed

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here. oh my GOD i love this man. i am a kendall roy defender until i die. i am a kendall girly first and a human being second. (okay so admittedly I wrote this before watching episode 8... ken, me and you are gonna have words.)

Pairing - Kendall Roy x Assistant!Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - cursing

Word Count - 881

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

Another day, another business meeting.

You're in London, this time around. You and Kendall jumped on a flight at the drop of a hat, jetting across the world to appease yet another rich white man. It was part of your job description, after all. Wherever Ken goes, you go. Just him and his best assistant against the world.

You've been awake for what feels like an eternity when you finally arrive at your hotel. You'd made sure to book two conjoining rooms, as always - Kendall likes to have you close. Just in case, he says.

You practically run to the front desk, desperate to shower and jump into a fluffy white bed. The universe, apparently, has other plans.

"So that's room 414 all ready for you, ma'am."

Her English accent doesn't soften the blow of the shock as much as you expected it to.

"Wait... what? Sorry, I'm sleep deprived. I booked two conjoining rooms."

"It says here you only booked one."

"Please," you beg. "I definitely booked two. Do you at least have another room available? I'll just book it now."

She clicks away at the keyboard, acrylic nails hitting the plastic rhythmically.

"I'm really sorry. There's an event happening, it's this huge wedding and the bride is some sort of celebrity and literally every room is full."

"You're kidding."

"I wish I was, ma'am."

And that's how you found yourself apologising profusely to Kendall while dragging your luggage down a never ending hotel hallway.

"God, could this day get any worse? I'm so fucking sorry, Ken."

He stops walking and turns to face you directly.

"It's fine. Stop stressing, please. You're making me fuckin' nervous."

You sigh with relief, and join him in his laughter. You can survive one night, surely.

You swing open your door, to be met with the sight of the biggest hotel bed you've ever seen. Bed. One bed.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Kendall stays silent, slight smirk on his face. He always thinks you're at your cutest when you're mad.

"God, Ken, again, I'm so sorry. I think the universe hates us."

"You've only figured that out today?"

He chuckles, and the sound calms you down ever so slightly.

"Look, honey, we can sleep top to tail, or I'll sleep on the floor, or in the fucking bathtub. But we're both exhausted, and standing and staring at the bed isn't helping."

He's right. Fatigue is plaguing your bones, practically seeping out of your pores. You need to lie down.

"I'm not gonna make you sleep on the floor, Ken. That's the biggest bed I've ever seen. There's room for the both of us."

He can't argue with that.

You both get ready for bed, taking your respective turns. You never realised how intimate a nighttime routine can be. You feel like you're seeing a side of your boss that's reserved only for him.

You both slide into a side of the bed, making sure to put an adequate distance between you. You roll so your backs are facing each other, to save any awkwardness. Kendall turns off the light, and settles down.

"Goodnight, Ken."

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

You fall asleep the minute your head hits the pillow.

You're awoken by breathing. Not the steady, rhythmic breathing of someone asleep. No, the half panicked, willing-himself-to-sleep kind of breathing.

"Ken?" you whisper. "Are you awake? What's wrong?"

You turn to face him, and make out the shape of him lying on his back in the dark.

"Fuck, did I wake you? Sorry, honey. Just can't sleep."

"You're exhausted. Thought you'd be out like a light."

"Can I tell you something?" he questions quietly.

"Anything."

"I haven't been sleeping."

"For how long?"

"Months. Maybe like a year? I don't know. I go through phases."

"Have you talked to someone?"

"I, uh, tried to. But they wanted to give me pills. I didn't wanna take them, so."

You roll onto your back, mirroring his position. In the dark, you reach out and grab his hand that rests on the bed between you.

"Proud of you," you whisper. "Can't have been easy to say no."

He doesn't know what to say, so he simply laces his fingers with yours, and squeezes a little tighter.

"Do you think it's because you sleep alone?" you ask quietly after a while.

"Honestly? Maybe. I got used to having Rava for so long. Then Naomi. I always sleep better with someone else."

You inch closer to him, using your interlocked hands as leverage. You move so your arms are pressed against each other, your head resting on his shoulder.

"So do I," you whisper. "Don't know if it's the breathing, or the body heat, or just not being lonely. Whatever it is... you have me."

"Yeah?" he asks breathily.

"Yeah."

With that, he pulls you in to him, arms wrapping around you. You rest your head on his chest and exhale.

You settle into the comfort of the warmth of his chest. The smell of your shampoo slowly calms Kendall, his heart slowing and evening out. Within minutes, his breathing becomes steady and rhythmic, body fully relaxed. You join him in slumber almost instantly.

When you wake in the morning, Kendall tells you to only ever book one room from now on.

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soitbe-soitis · 1 year

Note

pls write roman roy smut idm what u write abt it just let ur mind run wild 💗

Intimacy of all kinds with Roman is a highly complicated affair. This isn't a secret, it's literally canon. On one hand, he desires closeness so desperately, but he's so scared of letting his walls down; I feel like it would take a very, very long time for him to let you in, even if you've been in a relationship for a while.

Actual penetrative sex is probably a no-go. At least not for a looooong time. Maybe someday. But for now, you're content to take what he is ready to give you; he appreciates your understanding - nobody's ever really got it. But you do, you get it, and he's beyond grateful.

I feel like the first time you're intimate together, it's probably some form of mutual masturbation.

You're in your room together, and he makes some offhanded sexual comment that was probably supposed to be a joke, but the tension in the room is palpable.

I'm a firm believer that though he's reluctant to accept affection, he's a big fan of kissing. So one thing leads to another, and you're making out - this is the furthest you've ever gotten with him, and you're drinking in every bit of it.

The way he makes soft noises when you nip at his bottom lip, leans into your touch when one of your hands comes to tangle in his hair. He's touchstarved, plain and simple, even if he denies it, even if he refuses to let himself indulge that side of him usually.

Your hands drift to the buttons of his dress shirt, and he politely sets a boundary. You totally understand, you back off.

"But we could like, you know..."

You have to make sure he's 100% sure; consent is so extremely important, and Roman is known to make impulsive decisions because he thinks they'll appease people. But once you've got confirmation that he's serious, that's all the encouragement that you need.

Pants are sloppily discarded on the plush carpet of your bedroom. His boxers join your underthings.

He holds your hand while you both take care of yourselves, but he can't look at you - though he wants to, he really does. But you understand. Baby steps.

You can't help but glance over at him, and he looks positively angelic like this - head tilted back against the pillows, eyes lightly shut, lips parted with heavy breath as he strokes himself. You can't help but think to yourself that the sight before you would have been worth waiting for no matter how long it took.

You squeeze his hand, and he drags his bottom lip between his teeth, a low moan bubbling up from his throat.

It's over far too quickly; you reach your peak, and the noises you're making are enough to push him over the edge too, spilling over his chest and stomach.

You both lay there for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling, chests heaving, fingers intertwined.

You're worried you've done something wrong when he wordlessly gets up and leaves the room, but he comes back a few minutes later, cleaned up, with a towel for you to do the same.

Once you're both clean, he lays back down with you. You think that'll be it for the night, that you won't say a word and that you'll go to sleep, but then he's pulling you against him, arms wrapping around you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. The intimacy of it all makes your heart swell - the fact that he trusted you enough to go this far, that he didn't run when it was all said and done.

You loved him more than you could put into words, but somehow, deep down, you knew that he knew.

#roman roy x reader #roman roy #succession smut #roman roy smut #roman roy x reader smut

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eeveebitches · 7 months

Text

movie. || Roman Roy || smut

Pairing: Sub!Roman Roy x F!Reader

Summary: Roman wants you to stop watching a movie and pay attention to him, so he goes about it the best way he can think of.

Word count: 1.812

18+ only! More under the cut

Warning(s): SMUT, aka 18+ only! Sub Roman, oral sex (f receiving) praise kink, coming untouched/in pants

A/n: based on a request i got!! tysm for the inspo :)) my requests are also still open!

_______________________

You're watching a movie when he comes in.

Grin wide, eyes tired and hair messed up beyond relief. He jingles the spare keys you gave him in the air, spotting you on the couch. "Got in with our key," he says matter-of-factly as he throws his shoes off, walking over to you.

Ever since you gave Roman a spare key to your home, he's been visiting you with no warning. It's not the fact that he was growing co-dependent on your time that piqued your interest, though. It's always been how he refers to the key.

He used to just say 'the spare key', clearly tense as he struggled to find comfort in his intrusion. Then it became 'your key', which he said with the tiniest smile. When he started calling it 'my key' you would fight back a grin. He was clearly indulging himself with this.

What the implication of this new 'our key' situation is, you have no idea. Better to keep it unspoken, like you two usually do.

"What're you doing?" You only look away from the screen for a second to watch him walk over to you, before returning your attention to the screen. "Watching a movie," you tell him rather dryly. He lets out a huff, plopping himself next to you on the couch. "Well, I'm here now, so screw your movie."

His hand shoots to snatch the TV remote away from you, but before he can do so, you yank it away. "The movie is almost done, just watch it with me or something," you mumble out, transfixed on the riveting plot in front of you.

"So what, your shitty B-roll movie trumps quality time with the number one bachelor of America?" You don't even respond this time, you simply keep your eyes on the movie. Roman groans, head dramatically falling back as he stares up into the ceiling. "What am I even supposed to do while you melt your brain with numbing media consumption?"

Again, no reply. Just a meager shrug.

Roman, at first, wants to glare at you. Maybe smack your arm, then go to your kitchen and purposefully make a shit ton of noise, so you're forced to stand up and pay attention to him. But as he stares at you, he can't help but notice a small amount of red lace peaking from under your sweatpants.

Then a much better idea to get your attention pops up.

Wordlessly, he removes himself from the couch and instead kneels down in front of you, hands awkwardly resting on your thighs as he stares up at you. "Uhh, what're you doing, Romes?"

"G'na eat you out," he plainly tells you, lips twitching up into a smirk. "Roman, have you ever given anyone head?"

He shrugs, hands slowly pulling your sweatpants down. You do wanna finish this movie, but you're also curious to see where this goes, so you help him by slightly lifting yourself up, so he can properly remove them. "No, but I'm like Leonardo Davinci, naturally talented and amazingly hot. I can do this easily," he states with confidence that is clearly a facade.

Roman's pupils are dilated as he stares at your lacy red panties. His hands shake as he pushes your legs apart, giving him better access. You hum with intrigue, giving his hair a quick pet before yet again focusing yourself on the movie. "Whatever you say, Davinci."

You weren't expecting him to start out with a kiss atop of your underwear. It's awkward, yet sweet, which you reward with another stroke of his hair. The air is tense as he slowly moves your panties to the side, and ever-so-slowly, he dips in.

With a sharpened tongue he experimentally licks the inside of your folds. You shiver at the sensation, keeping your hand casually rested on his head. For a moment there's nothing, before Roman's head turns up to look at you.

You flush at the sight of him looking up from you like that, eyes wide and unknowing as he's kneeling in between your thighs. His obedience is like second nature to him, and in moments like these you revel in it.

"Can you, like, give me a tiny hint on what to do? Or else I'm just gonna bite your clit off," he huffs, face already reddened.

"Try flattening your tongue a bit, for one. Just take your time, Romes."

And that he does.

Carefully, he laps at your folds. Places his hands back on your thighs, keeping them open as his eyes flutter shut. Just as suddenly as he got on his knees for you, he places his entire mouth on you, roughly sucking on your cunt. You gasp at the sensation, hand clutching at his hair as he suctions onto you.

The groan he lets out as he tastes you is guttural, like he was a man starved and you were his last supper. As he removes himself from you with a sinful 'pop', he lets out an airy laugh. "Jesus, this is, uh... fuck," he whispers out before delving right back in, madly licking and sucking wherever he can reach.

He can't stop himself from letting one of his hands drop from your thighs, using it to palm at his growing hardness. "Shit Romes, you're doing good," you groan, struggling to pay attention to the movie when Roman's tongue is a single movement away from circling your clit.

"Only f'r you," he desperately gasps out, only taking a second to get air back before focusing his full attention on the small bundle of nerves he's finally located. He isn't as hesitant as you would've thought he'd be-- he wastes no time roughly sucking on your clit, shamelessly moaning as he feels you twitch and writhe from his touch.

"Fuck, you're doing so good baby, keep doing that." You grab a handful of his hair and forcefully pull him closer. He moans pathetically at the movement, at the way he's suffocating in your juices.

The wet noises he's making are absolutely sinful, and if it wasn't for his relentless mouth you would've joked about his eating manners. His mouth and nose are shiny with your wetness, and he pays it no mind, drilling his tongue inside of you without a care in the world. "W'na please you," he moans against you, his own hips stuttering as he stops palming himself, cock painfully restrained in his dress pants.

"You're such a good boy for me, Roman, you're doing so fucking good." His eyes screw shut as he groans against your clit, the vibrations leaving you to gasp for air. It's all just too much, the pleasure combined with the desperate noises he's letting out sending you into cloud nine.

He whines at your every noise and your every word. It's like his heart is going to burst out of his chest, and when you yank at his hair he can't hold himself back. With a muffled groan he releases his load, only slightly faltering in his pace before continuing to practically torture your pussy.

"My sweet pup, eating me out so well, so proud of you," you moan with a fistful of his hair in your hand, only half-aware of Roman's own predicament. Your words of praise alone are overstimulating, but he can't stop himself from lapping up your juices.

He pulls away for a moment, gasping for air as he looks at you, face glistening. "You're so fucking wet, I just w'na live here," he groans out, before roughly sucking on your clit.

You don't know if it's the hungry moans he keeps letting out or the blinding pleasure he's giving you that pushes you over the edge. Thousands of blinding white stars cover your vision as your entire body stiffens, a gargled moan escaping your throat as you push Roman's entire face into you one last time.

He moans against your slick cunt, weakly lapping at you as you slowly come down. Even when you whine at the overstimulation of it all, he keeps at it, tongue busying itself with cleaning you up. For a moment you think you can even hear him gulp, whining as you try to pry him off of you.

Reluctantly, he pulls away, carrying a serene expression. With lidded eyes he looks up at you, and the question he asks almost makes you cum again on the spot.

"Did I do good for you?"

You let out an airy chuckle. "Yeah, you did."

Roman groans as he stands up, and only now you see the dark stain at the front of his pants. "Oh my god, did you?--"

"Shut up, yes." You giggle as he awkwardly stands up to place a small kiss on your lips. Your hand shoots to grab the back of his neck, deepening the kiss, and you hum as you taste yourself on his tongue. He moans into your mouth, a sound you happily swallow before pulling away. "You did very good, Roman. Didn't realize you're a total perv for giving oral," you hum out as he waddles yo your bathroom.

"And I didn't realize you were a total slut for it," he retorts, keeping the bathroom door open as you hear him shuffling out of his pants. "Where's my shit?"

You pull your panties up, but simply remove your sweatpants, before walking over to your bedroom and quickly fishing out a fresh pair of pants, a shirt and some boxers for him. The amount of times he's made someone drop off fresh clothes for him to your apartment has caused an influx of items for him to wear when he's with you.

With a light grin you walk towards the bathroom, handing Roman his things as you sit on the closed toilet seat. "I'm happy you were able to enjoy yourself, too."

Roman shrugs. "Yeah, I mean, I ruined my fucking pants, but it was also fucking hot."

"You win some, you lose some," you hum as you watch him remove his blouse and replace it with the shirt. "You should definitely let me do that again, by the way. Just-- ask whenever you want a real man to make you cum," he mumbles out, avoiding the eye contact you're trying to make with the mirror he's in front of.

"You're just saying that because you're a total pussy-loving freak, aren't you?" He groans at your words as he finishes dressing himself, walking out of the bathroom with you in tow. You chuckle at the TV-- the credits are rolling. "Can you please not say kinky shit to me, my dick is in recovery mode right now, thanks."

The two of you plop onto the couch, legs tangling as you grab the remote and put on a show the two of you usually watch together. "Seriously though," Roman suddenly pipes up,

"you taste really good."

#female reader #roman #roman roy #roman roy x reader #romulus roy #roman roy x you #succession #succession hbo #roman roy smut #roman roy x reader smut #succession smut #succession x reader #succession fanfic

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z3nitsusgf · 6 months

Text

paper bag

roman roy | reader

tw: fem!reader, toxic relations, manipulation, l*gan roy, romann is sick in the head, Roman says a slur (unsurprising), dog motif, teasing, dirty talk, ooc roman bc he's scared of pussy irl, this shit long af I’m sorry, backwards storytelling bc I’m inconsistent

The room is sticky. Sweltering in a post-august heat. The box fan churns and spits out whatever puffs of air it can muster, but the both of you still sweat on the linens of the motel bed.

The walls are stained from years of misuse and neglect, tinged a dirty yellow. You can’t tell if it’s oil or something more debauched that clings to the plaster, probably the latter.

It’s late into the night, too late for anything to be open and too early for it to be acceptable to up and leave. So the two of you are rooted here, stuck till daybreak.

The sounds of people arguing, a car horn blaring, and the buzz of fluorescent whir through your head. There’s a small box TV, it fizzles and pops every time you try to change the channel. Gurgling in a pre-2000s war cry. You could almost laugh at the circumstances.

You wonder how the fuck you’ve managed to snag New York’s brattiest billionaire, even more at how you’ve convinced him to fuck you in a shitty motel just outside of Hell’s Kitchen. Or to even fuck you at all, you only know rumors of his… strange bedroom endeavors.

You stifle an un-humored chuckle, Roman is lying like a royal Persian cat across the bed, shirt long gone and covered only in his boxers. A brand you've never heard of laces his hips, something expensive and out of reach. Just like most of him.

“What?” He asks, head resting on a closed fist. He draws shapes on your leg, neat nails dragging along the soft skin. He likes the smell of your lotion, something girlish and fresh like linen. Almost like something Shiv would wear, or a nanny from his memory. All he knows is that he likes it.

“Nothin’, just thinking.”

He likes your accent. It reveals your upbringing, obviously not the stupidly refined wealth that Roman inhabits but something humbler. It’s a little rough around the edges but not crass. Your words are straightforward and clear, unlike his family's. The bubbling words they offer to air up a conversation, you cut straight through that.

“Thinking about what?”

You give a smile, taking a long drag of your American Spirit and tipping your head back to blow it up to the stained ceiling. The smoke curls and swirls around before dissipating into nothing. He's not used to the smell, it gives the air a hint of pine-tinged outdoorsy aroma. Warm, comforting, familiar, and terrible all at once. Like something Logan would smell like when he came home, on the rare occurrence Roman was around him long enough to get a whiff.

“How I just bagged the Roman Roy, and how it’s gonna look in the papers.”

You joke, obviously. You’d never tell your endeavors to the pressing public or the sneaky little journalists that gripe for your small breadcrumbs about the family. Even if it is technically your job.

Roman hums, “Waystar son indulges in debauched acts with local journalist slut.”

He makes a gesture with his hands, eyes lighting up and going wide. A dopey grin rested on the plane of his cheeks, a row of sparkling whites glimmering under the citrusy glow of the lamp.

“Fuck you.”

You kick him haphazardly in the chest, his laugh rings around the room like a bell. Roman grabs your ankle, curling his fingers around the bone and yanking you down towards him. He’s uncaring of how you slip down the headrest, watching how you squeak and mumble small profanities.

“Prick could’ve dropped the ashes on me.” You mumble, not serious in the slightest.

“What would your father say?”

You snip, reaching down and dragging a hand through his hair, tussling the already licked-up sweaty strands. He practically melts into your touch, eyes closing and lips parting at the contact. He memorizes how your nails feel on his scalp, visualizing the soft pink of your polish running through the strands.

It feels good to have you touch him so effortlessly. As if he was nice to hold and caress, something soft to be sentimental with. Not a bad dog locked in a kennel for once but allowed to curl up on the bed.

But that's exactly what he is, isn't he? He is the dog that sleeps on the floor at the edge of the bed. Curled in on himself, happy to just be close. Nosing at the sheets, contempt with the presence of its owner. Even if he's cold, shivering from the floorboards - you just being there is enough to keep him warm. The few pats on the head allow him to sleep through the night. He is the dog that never leaves your side, sitting off to the right of you and waiting.

He lets out a bitter giggle, a small grimace twitching his lips. It hides the shimmer of despair that is pooled in his head.

“He’d probably be glad I got some pussy for once. Maybe he’ll stop calling me a fag.”

He laughs when he says it, even though a part of you knows he’s dead serious. You've come to learn he always is when it comes to his father.

The sadness cuts through the raunchiness of his words and you fight off the frown that wants to stitch itself across your face. A part of you wants to reach out and mend together the brokenness, another wants to pull out your journal and backlog it for later. A rotten, benign part of you wants to take this man apart and study it to smithereens.

Roman doesn’t say much, surprisingly. He’s reserved in his intimacy, holding back all the love and care that he wants to pour out. He's been starving for decades, yearning for a love that won't come. He's resigned to the fact he is broken. Besides, he’s not here to cuddle up to you for anything more than to get you to not publish your story on the Roy’s. You're both fighting for the same thing, just on different sides.

You respond the only way you knew how, “Fuck, that’s really fucking depressing.”

Roman admires your brutal style, honesty is a rarity that he treasures when it comes. It's why he noticed you in the first place, your articles about the wealthy family in the tabloids caught his eye. Especially the ones about him -it sounds different when you say it, not like you're vying for an undercut but like you're genuine.

He laughs.

You both laugh. Tipping your heads back and howling with laughter. He's got tears in his eyes, and you can't breathe.

///

“Not really your cup of tea, huh?”

You teased, flinging off your shoes and laying on the questionable sheets.

He gives you a snarky grimace and raises a brow, “Careful, you might get scabies or a fucking STD just from breathing in the air.”

It’s not the sort of place you’d expect to see Roman Roy occupy. You can hardly even wrap your head around the fact he’s here now. You imagine the Roy in lavishness, draped in silken white and cashmere. Sipping champagne from a crystal glass brought by room service. Watching the glittering of New York from a floor-to-ceiling window on the billionth floor of a hotel that costs your entire paycheck for just one night.

No, you can’t even pretend that Roman doesn’t look completely out of place here. With his no-tie, popped collar, Tom Ford wannabe pretentious ass. He’s comically out of place. It makes you want to giggle to hell at the way he looks so uncomfortable.

A pretty little rich boy who’s never had to worry about being in anything other than a 5-star. Who now stands in a seedy motel that looks more like a crack house than the Arlo in Midtown. And in place of the champagne, he chugs your shitty beer and water bottle vodka. Cracking open a six-pack of michelob’s and cringing at the taste. It’s painfully cheap, but alcohol is alcohol.

“Come on, don’t act so high and mighty. Relax.”

You pat the empty space next to you, scooting over so he can tentatively sit. You have your thick black journal resting beside you, inside containing all the juicy details and bits about the Roys that would burn down empires and topple over conglomerates.

You’ve hidden most of it well, you’ve had to, or else you get a hit put out on you from the man himself, Logan Roy. Using different names when publishing your work, making interviews anonymous - hell, you feel like Batman with the way you work in the shadows.

Roman inches onto the mattress, eyeing the notebook at your side. He knows, vaguely, what it contains. The secrets, the stories, untamed facts about the company and his family. Usually, he wouldn't give a rat's ass about what a snoopy little journalist had to say about him and his family.

He’ll admit your stuff is good, great even but it's all fluff, a buffer that fills up the sides of newspapers so they have more meat to them. And most of the time it's always the same thing; how horrible his father is, the treatment of Waystar employees, how disconnected the children of the billionaire were. But you- you dug deeper than that.

He never had a reason to look into you until now.

Your stories were revelations for the public. The lies, the coverups, the shady business that their media team works day and night to conceal. You spill it all. And now that you're gaining more traction, more popularity, they're losing revenue quickly. Business deals are turning to dust, stocks are dropping, and employees are quitting on the spot. It's making Waystar crumble from the inside out. And Logan refuses to lose from a puny little journalist, let alone a woman.

When Gerri and Karolina uncovered who was behind the articles, they wilted. If they had told Logan who you were - what you were - he would've squashed you like a bug. Completely ruined your life till you had nothing.

So they took a different approach, a softer more merciful route. They sent Roman after you, and like the loyal dog he is, he went. Mingling with over-eager, latte-sipping, pretentious journalists to get your contact info.

It wasn't as easy as he thought, more work than he wanted to put in. But regardless, he eventually a friend of a friend of a friend gave you up. Not soon after you got a very informal email from the COO, asking to meet up for an "interview" on the pretense of discussing your stories. Or your "allegations" as he liked to call it.

To say you were surprised was an understatement, you nearly passed out in disbelief. It started with meeting him on neutral ground, a coffee shop. Somewhere public and clean, nothing seedy or easily misconstrued.

And when Roman strutted into the small shop, you were very aware of how real this was all becoming. The starkness of his wealth is evident in comparison to the rest of the shop.

"Ah, if it isn't the little paper-pusher I've heard so much about."

Those were his first words to you.

“Mr. Roy, a pleasure to meet you.”

He sat in front of you, pulling off his jacket and haphazardly throwing it over the back of the chair. You're 100% sure it costs more than your yearly salary. At your words, he gives an obnoxious giggle.

“Please, don’t call me that. Makes me think we’re in some sick porno.”

You raise a brow at his crassness, “Ok.. pleasure to meet you, Roman.”

He stifles another giggle but reaches a hand across the table, shaking yours.

Once he’s pulled back he claps his hands together, “Alright, what do you get from this shithole. And don’t tell me you’re one of those hipster-loving morons who gets like matcha or some shit.”

Your eyes widen at how loud he’s being, uncaring that staff or other customers might hear his openness. You know what kind of person he is, you’re just not used to the oozing brattiness in person.

You can only gawk, “Well, um, usually I get a macchiato or just a regular cup of coffee.”

He nods, “Hmm, I see. Ok. I’ll get whatever you get. Throw in a Danish too, I’ll pay.”

You blink vigorously, “Oh no, it’s alright Mr. Roy-”

“Roman.” He corrects, giving a cheeky grin.

“And don’t worry about it, you’re not gonna break the bank with some cheap-ass coffee.”

You wonder if this was a good idea at all, but you quickly come back to reality. You’re here for business, you can’t treat this like a nightmare date from hell. Even if that’s what it feels like. So you do as he says, ordering the coffees and two danishes, even getting an extra muffin to-go.

Time quickly flew by, as much as you hated to admit it. You managed to tug the man back into the conversation you came for - Waystar. Though Roman was more elusive than anything.

Tapping on the table, leaning his chair back, and distracting you with other topics that most certainly were not work-appropriate. Like if you were just making all this fuss because you just wanted to get finger-blasted by the COO. That one made you flush and snap at him like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

But he was so charismatic, in his own twisted way. Like a car crash, you couldn’t look away from, the smoldering flames and heated looks were more than you thought he was capable of.

After hours of talking he drew out your more playful side, the snarky little wit you don’t usually use with the people you’re working with. It was inevitable. And soon, it was late into the evening. With the coffee shop getting ready to close for the night.

“Looks like it’s time to wrap it up for the day.”

You moved to stand, dusting off crumbs from your lap. And Roman is quick to jump up, “Aw, you sure? I mean it’s not that late, wanna maybe head out somewhere?”

He’s vague with his words, you give him a smirk.

“Are you trying to get me alone with you, Roman?”

He chuckles and puts on his jacket, “Of course, I mean, how else am I gonna murder you?”

You both laugh, “Murder me? Sweet little me? What for?”

The two of you walk onto the sidewalk, the crisp night air breezing through your hair.

“We both know you’re not sweet.”

You smile, tucking a lip between your teeth. He’s magnetic, in a venomous and dark way. You know it’s wrong to do this, to get close like this. But sometimes you have to do things in order to get what you want.

“I know somewhere we can go.”

///

That’s how you got here, at least how you remember it. It’s all blurred from the copious amount of alcohol you’ve drank.

Now you have a very not sober Roman Roy on top of you.

He’s flushed, there’s pink smattering across his heated cheeks and he’s got blown pupils the size of the moon. He leers over you, his hand cupping your throat. He’s close, too close.

You can feel the curve of his lip on your cupid's bow, the prickle of his stubble. He smells like Costa Azzurra, citrusy and woodsy. It clouds your drunken brain, making you want to pant and sink your teeth into his neck.

Roman is mumbling, you can’t quite make it out but you feel the warmth of his breath across your cheek. It feels dizzying, like a waking dream.

“I’m gonna kill you. Not gonna let you leave, you’re stuck with me.”

He huffs against the warm apple swell of your cheek. You giggle at that; he feels the warmth of your laugh. The scent of lime and lone star on your breath. There’s a certain giddiness that flutters in your tummy at the words, a sick satisfaction.

One that a dark part of you craves. A feral depravity lies in between your teeth. One that aches to chew on his marrow and swallow him whole. When they trust you to completion, it makes you want to crush them completely.

“Oh yeah?”

You’re hazy. Starry-eyed with droopy lids, face hot from the alcohol and closeness. There are bruises in the shape of his teeth. Ringed purple marks that fade into shimmery blue and greens. Speckled aches across your thighs and neck - all from him. Like rabid animals fighting the very nature of their beings, you claw and tear at one another like beasts deprived.

He buries his face in your chest, trying to hide himself within it - claw his way in and sit inside your heart. Plunging his hands into your back and holding you to him like you were the only ones on earth. He kisses your skin, brushing his lips along your collarbone, down to the center. Straight in your solar plexus, like he could see through it.

As if he could see that beating organ as if he could reach in and take it.

“Yeah. Wanna keep you, like a pet or a girlfriend. What’s the difference?”

You squirm at his hot breath on your neck, the humid air making you needy. You grab his face in your hands, lifting his face up to you and pressing your mouths together in a sloppy kiss. He groans, he doesn’t even wait before he slips his tongue in. Sliding across your lips and flicking on the roof of your mouth. You make a choked sound, the feeling of his tongue invading your mouth.

You can feel the hard bulge of his cock pressing against your stomach, it makes you ache with need.

“Roman,” you pant, “I wanna fuck you.”

He hums, “Wanna fuck you too, wanna fuck your pussy.”

You moan, you want to tear him apart at the seams and eat him whole. Crack that soft apricot heart and bite down into his tissue. You bet he tastes just like it too, sweet and sugary like jam. You want to rip him to shreds, consume each sliver, and savor him like he’s raw slices of strawberries on your plate.

///

He spreads your thighs, gripping your ass in rough hands, practically moaning at the sight of your fucked out pussy. There are silvery webs of slickness that glisten along your cunt. You’re panting into the sheets, fisting them as you shiver from the cold AC.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so wet.”

His thumbs graze along your swollen lips, and you twitch - whining like a puppy that wants a kiss. Hips jerking into the mattress when he grips the fat of your ass and swipes your folds.

“Look at you, so fucked out. And you still want more?”

You nod, humming breathy whimpers each time he gets close to your clit. You let out a sharp yelp when he slaps a hand across your ass, hands flailing and thighs instinctively trying to shut.

He keeps you spread, knee coming up to prevent you from ruining his fun.

“Gotta say it, babe. Can’t read your mind.”

You’re trembling, lips swollen and drooling as you try to push out the words.

“Yes, I want more.” You mumble, face buried halfway into the sheets.

He’s mean with it, pressing the pad of his thumb onto your pulsing clit. Rubbing till he hears the sloppy sound and you’re jerking away with a scampery yip.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.”

You could cry, wet tears pooling on your lash line. Your cunt throbs, empty and flushed and fucking aching.

“Please, please I want more. Want your cock-“

He’s groaning, yanking you back till your ass is in the air. Spine arching and you feel the brush of his cock on your folds.

“Yeah? Want my cock?” You can hear the smile in his voice, hips shaking in his hold.

His tip is kissing along your entrance, and he watches with hearts in his eyes at the way you coat him in slick. Rutting the length between your folds, dipping in to watch you clench on nothing. Wetness clinging to your inner thighs and painting your pussy a shimmery diamond-esque.

“Mmhm, want it. Want you to fuck me, want it so bad.” You moan, half brain-dead with how stupid you sound.

He giggles, high a girlishy. Slipping in fast and quick, hips jerking till he’s flushed with your ass. His pace is like a rabbit, practically humping you into the mattress. You yelp at the feeling, cock splitting you in two.

“Roman-!”

“What was that?”

You can hear the smile in his voice. It makes you whine, gripping the edge of the bed as he slams harder.

“I couldn’t hear you over the sound of you getting fucking pounded.”

You let out a moan when he hits deep. Slotting all the way, flushed against your ass. His tip is kissing something untouched inside you, sticky head brushing along the cushiony pucker of your cervix.

“Fuck you-“

You choke on your words when he bucks his hips. Slamming impossibly farther.

“Huh? Speak up, baby. Can’t hear you, your wet pussy is too loud.”

You bury your face into your arm. Biting at your lip to keep the drool from spilling over your mouth.

“How’s it feel? Feelin’ good? My little paper-pusher like how I fuck her?”

He makes you insane.

You fist at the sheets, nails digging into the soft gray linen. He’s pushing you into a pretty arch, thumbs keeping your ass spread so he can watch himself fuck your cunt.

“God, your pussy is insane.” His hips are smacking against the backs of your thighs. You’re on the verge of tears from how good it feels, you can feel the veins of his cock pulsing in you. Mouth parted and spilling sticky moans.

“Fuck, how are you so wet?” He murmurs, shivering at the feeling of your tight walls gripping along his length. At this point, his thrusts are sloppy and uneven, but the tip of his cock is still able to hit that special spot deep inside of you.

“Oh fuck, Roman, m’gonna cum-”

You absolutely lose your mind when he rolls his hips against you, scratching the sheets.

“Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock?”

You nod, waiting for the pit in your tummy to explode. But it doesn’t come, Roman pulling out in one even jerk.

You cry out, “What the fuck?”

“If you wanna cum you gotta promise not to publish that little article of yours, babe”

You’re hazy and desperate, in the back of your mind you know what he’s doing. And it clips your chest. But the pulsing of your cunt overrides all sanity. And you’re too fucked out to even care at this point, you just want to cum.

“What’ll be, huh? Wanna get pounded till you gush over my cock, or do you want to post a dumb story about me?”

You whimper, you’re dangling on your own leash of longing. He’s pressed against your back whispering all the fucked up things he promises to do to you if you just give in. Just let go, he murmurs.

Temptation licking the back of your heels like hellfire. It doesn’t help that he’s pawing at your tits, squeezing your tender flesh like clay. Cock slipping and sliding against your sodden cunt, slick with want and need. Dripping a honey-thick desire so brutal you’d think he was a demon sent from the inferno.

“Ok! Ok, won’t post it, just fuck me! Please, Rome.”

He groans, a hearty whiny thing that makes you clench around nothing.

“Good girl, good girl.”

It’s immediate, the way he slams back in and drives home. Your sticky skin slapping against his, thighs shaking with burning effort, stretched cunt a dripping mess against his cock. You’re babbling, hands reaching back to grip his thighs, nails digging into his flesh.

It’s not long before you’re gushing, clamping down, and seeing stars in your blacked-out vision. Hearing Roman moan and whine before he’s pulling out to cum over your back. The warmth spreads over your spine. He’s shivering, thighs twitching, and abdomen clenching. It’s never felt that good before.

You both pant and heave, body relaxing into the sheets. You’re exhausted, eyes lidding and drifting, faintly feeling the sensation of a towel wiping across your skin.

“Holy fuck-”

You smile softly, eyes closed. Roman plops down next to you in bed, watching as you roll over and sit against the headboard. He’s sweaty and so very good-looking. You smile in a chagrin manner, brushing a finger against his cheekbone.

“How’s that for an interview?”

You laugh, swatting his arm.

“You’re crazy.”

He smiles at you, strangely content. A pinprick of emotions swells in his chest, and you feel that influx of rot starts to crawl its way up your chest. He’s so beautiful, that you’d hate to see him crumble when he finds out you already sent your paper to your editor to post.

But for now, you enjoy the small moment of peace between you two. You laugh and joke and keep this sweet until morning until he realizes what you’ve done.

#he’s so dog motif #yes this os about Fiona apple #this man makes me wanna roll into traffic #first time writing something in like… eons #please be gentle I’ve not written since the dark ages #roman roy x you #roman roy x reader #val.writes ❦#succession smut #succession x reader #roman roy smut

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miistymemorii · 11 months

Text

Rock The Boat

pariring: shiv roy x fem!reader

summary: You and Shiv find yourself getting to know each other a little better when the two of you are accidentally stranded at sea.

rating: 18+ (smut smut SMUT, no minors!!!!)

wordcount: 2k

A/N : to say i am a placemat for shiv roy (and sarah snook) to stomp all over is an understatement. happy pride bitches. please enjoy.

It was a beautiful moment. You were perched at the very front of the boat, the soft waves causing the ocean spray to sprinkle your skin, the sun beating down on you as you closed your eyes and took in the sound of the water against the boat. Your hair was down, your shoes off, and for once in your career, you found yourself able to relax.

You had been less than enthusiastic when your boss, Shiv Roy, had told you on very short notice that you were to accompany her in Italy for some business meetings with her family. You were a new hire, and you had not had the pleasure of meeting the rest of Shiv's infamous family. To say you were dreading it was an understatement. Shiv had surprised you, though. She wasn't making you do any real work, instead just allowing you to follow her around like an obedient lapdog, letting you take advantage of the fine cuisine and drinks that were being offered.

You had been the one to suggest the boat ride. You and Shiv had gone to dinner with her family, and the entire time you could see the subtle shifts in her demeanor as her father and brothers refused to take her seriously. You figured she deserved a break from her family, so you coaxed her onto a small boat that you had made sure was loaded with her favorite foods and booze.

You heard Shiv clearing her throat behind you, so you opened your eyes and swiveled, smiling at her. She had her usual smirk on her face, but her eyes were softer than usual. She was cautious about enjoying herself, clearly, but you could tell she was trying. "So, do you do sneaky shit like this for all of your bosses, or am I just special?" Shiv teased, sitting down on the seat across from you.

You gave her a small smile, shaking your head. "No, most of my other bosses were pretty insufferable."

Shiv looked away, pretending to focus on the waves. She took a beat, then said, "You don't think I'm insufferable, then, nice to know." She let out a humorless laugh then added, "I think you might be the only one, actually."

Sure, Shiv could be a bitch. You had seen her get cold and snippy with her family and even her husband, but you had also seen her the way she beat herself up, the emotional toll she was taking on herself as someone who had been clearly resorted to bitterness.

There was a lapse of silence, your eyes on her as she kept her gaze on the waves. Shiv finally turned her gaze to you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You know, it would be a shame if we let all that booze go to waste."

You pretended to feign shock. "Should we really be drinking if we're operating a small nautical vessel, Shiv?"

Shiv let out a short laugh and stood up. "Please, y/n. I can operate this boat drunk better than Rome and Ken can sober. C'mon, show me where you stashed them."

You giggled and hopped up, leading her to the small cooler filled with various cans of alcoholic beverages. You pulled out two cans and held out one to Shiv, who looked at it in your hand then laughed. You realized she was used to finer liquor, of course, but she eventually took the can out of your hands and opened it.

"Sorry, I didn't think to bring anything nice-"

She was already downing it, and your mouth hung open slightly in shock. You had seen her drink before, but it was all sipping the priciest drinks from the daintiest glasses. Now, she was greedily drinking from a can of cheap beer, and she looked so... normal. You opened your own can and started sipping, figuring one of you should be more sober if you wanted to get back to shore. Shiv reached down and scooped up some more cans, then wordlessly made her way back to the seated area at the front of the boat.

You went to resume your seat across from her, but Shiv grabbed your wrist and gently tugged you into the seat next to her. You watched with wide eyes as she set off on another can, a few droplets of beer dripping past her lips and running down her chin. Down to her breasts, which were sitting quite nicely in her bathing suit. You looked down at your can, praying the heat in your body wasn't visible to Shiv.

"You know, you're kind of my best friend, y/n." Shiv remarked. You hummed in appreciative agreement, still not able to look her in the eyes. You could tell she was looking at you, which made your blood run even hotter. Shiv gently nudged her shoulder against yours, forcing you to look at her. She had a look on her face, one you had only seen on her brother, Roman, when he was looking at their coworker Gerri. It was the softness in the eyes that comes from being vulnerable, something you knew Shiv wasn't used to being. Shiv continued, "I mean, I can't think of anyone else who would've done something nice like this for me. Maybe Tom, but..." She sighed then switched took another sip from her drink. "Why did you do this, anyways? What's the end game?"

You raised an eyebrow at her. "End game?"

Shiv scoffed, and your heart broke a little as you realized she still didn't completely trust you. What really hurt was that you were fine with it, because she had been betrayed by so many people before. "I mean, you want to take time off? Paid vacation? A raise? You know I already pay you a fuck ton more than anyone else would reasonably pay an assistant-"

You gently put your hand on her shoulder, frowning. "Shiv, no, it's not like that. You seemed stressed, that's all. I wanted to help."

Shiv set her can in the cupholder next to her and crossed her arms, studying you. "You're telling me you did this just... out of the kindness of your little 'ol heart?" When you nodded, she added quietly, "Aren't you a sweetheart?"

You shrugged. "I just know that when my family pisses me off, I like to do something fun and try forget about it. For your family... well, I thought booze would be the best remedy."

Shiv let out a giggle, a genuine giggle, which made your slightly booze-tainted self giggle as well. You nudged her shoulder and added jokingly, "I mean... if you want to give me a raise-"

"Oh, fuck you!" Shiv laughed, reaching over and flicking your nose. The gesture was so small and childish, but the feeling of her touch just barely against your skin lingered. You were sure you were going to burst into flames.

Shiv often asked you questions, mundane ones about the life of a "normal person", as she called you. The two of you continued to drink and talk, Shiv becoming more comfortable as the sunlight burned away. "So much for swimming," you thought, but you didn't mind. Spending time with Shiv was enough for you.

The sun was beginning to set, more time having passed than you had realized. You cleared your throat, wanting to be the reasonable one. "Well, we should probably sail back. We've gotta pack and get on the plane by 8 a.m., and I know how grumpy you get when you don't get enough sleep."

You stood to leave, but Shiv grabbed your wrist, tugging it gently. "No, please stay! I can sleep on the plane."

You shook yourself out of her grasp and Shiv pouted, making you giggle. You shook your head with a grin as you made your way over to the steering wheel, watching Shiv for a moment as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, a small smile on her face. You turned the key to start the boat back up... but nothing. You frowned a little then tried again, but the boat only offered a weak sputter in return. "Uh... Shiv?"

She was still in a blissful state, soaking in the remaining sunrays. "Hmm?"

You were a little drunk, which made you panic even more. "I don't think the boat will start." You said quietly.

Shiv opened her eyes, her head lolling as she looked at you. "What was that?"

You tried to start the boat again, but the sputtering sound was even louder. Shit. "The, uh... the boat won't start."

Shiv sighed, then shakily got to her feet. She giggled at her own wobbliness, but still made her way over to you. She put her hand on your shoulder for stability, so close next to you that you could smell her expensive perfume and feel her boozy breath on your neck. She reached around you, fiddling with the wheel. "Oh my gosh, y/n, what did you do to the boat?" Shiv teased.

You turned your head and Shiv was right there. You held your breath, trying to get yourself together. You wanted to look away, but you couldn't tear yourself from her gaze. Her eyebrows furrowed a little but you couldn't decipher her expression. Her eyes flittered down to your lips, and you abandoned all your morals and gently pressed your lips to hers.

Your lips lingered against hers for a moment, but something in you snapped you back to reality, and you were the first to pull away.

"Shiv, I'm so-"

"Just-" Shiv held up a finger, a smirk on her lips. "Just kiss me again."

Shiv leaned in to kiss you, but you stopped her by gently pushing her shoulder back. "Shiv, we can't. You're married, and Tom-"

"Fuck Tom, I'll divorce him when we get back to land, whatever." Your eyes widened at her statement, but she shook her head. "I won't but... I don't feel anything for him. Nothing that's real, anyways. But you..." She sighed. Shiv looked down, a mischievous smirk forming on her face. "You're real, and what I feel is real. So just... can you kiss me, please?" She gently took your hands in hers, her thumb tracing over your finger. You shivered, which made her look you in the eyes again. She leaned in and softly pressed her lips to yours, and you couldn't resist. Shiv's fingers were instantly in your hair, holding you in place as your lips moved in sync. No-one had ever kissed you like this before, so passionately but not aggressively. There was feeling behind it, overwhelming you in the best way possible. The taste of her in your mouth was addicting, and you prayed it would linger after this whole affair was done. Your lungs were screaming for you to pull away for a breath, but Shiv removed her lips from yours and attached them to your neck, the hand in your hair tugging back slightly, exposing her ravenous mouth to your neck. Your hands shot behind you to grip the control panel, your knees buckling as Shiv suckled gently into your skin.

Shiv's lips left your skin with a small 'pop', her eyes studying you. Your chest was heaving, desperate to her feel her against you again. You felt pathetic, how badly you wanted more, but you wouldn't dare say it out loud.

Shiv spun the two of you around, landing you in the chair next to the steering wheel. Her hands were on the armrests, her lips diving into yours once again. The angle was a little awkward, but you figured Shiv would be the one in charge, so you were happy to let her do whatever she wanted with you. When Shiv's lips left yours again, you couldn't help the whine that came out, which she laughed at. Your cheeks burned as you felt embarrassed, but her hands moved to your thighs, which let you know she wasn't making fun of you. Shiv kept her eyes on yours as she slowly sunk to her knees, her hands moving up your thighs to the band of your bathing suit bottoms. You shameless lifted your legs slightly, her hands moving in sync to remove your bottoms. The sun had gone down, the air a little chilly, and you shivered again, goosebumps blossoming on your skin.

Shiv used her hands to let your legs be open to her, totally exposed. She bit her lip slightly before saying, "You know, consider this a thank you for the boat ride."

Before you could reply, her mouth was on you. She began at your thighs, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses against your soft skin. You squirmed and you could feel her lips smiling into your skin. She gave you the smallest of licks, her eyes flickering up to yours as you let out a whine at the contact. Your head dropped back in pleasure as she started to suckle on your clit, but you could feel her eyes on you. Shiv moaned against your clit, the vibrations like lightening up your spine. Shiv detached from your clit, and you looked down at her, slightly confused, but she straightened a little and held her hand up, her fingers tracing your lips. You weren't even thinking as you poked your tongue out against her fingers, taking them into your mouth. Shiv smirked and drove her fingers a little deeper, letting the wetness of your mouth soak her fingers. She hummed in contentment and pulled her fingers out, tilting her head up to kiss you on the lips before whispering, "So obedient, as usual."

You were a loss for words, but it didn't matter because her mouth was back on you in an instant, one of her fingers slowly entering you. You gasped and reached out to grab her hair on instinct, tugging slightly which made her moan loudly against you. You became lost in her, the sound of her moans, the feeling of her as she entered another finger into you, her fingers curling up in the most delicious way. Your legs begin to shake as you drowned in the feeling of her, calling to Shiv softly in between whines and moans. You could feel your release building, Shiv's hand speeding up as she watched you try not to unfold against her fingers. She didn't dare speak, but everything she wanted to say you could see in her hungry eyes. The thought of her stopping just to tease you briefly crossed you mind, but it was washed away by the feeling of your orgasm as you clenched down on her fingers. Her tongue lapped at you greedily as she tried to taste every drop of your release. You loudly moaned her name and gripped her hair, abandoning any shame you had left in your body.

Your chest was heaving, your body on fire, your hair sticky to your forehead as you opened your eyes and relaxed your body, looking down at Shiv. She was still kneeling below you, her fingertips making their way out of her mouth as she licked her bottom lip. She gave you a small smile before pressing a gently kiss your inner thigh. "That was pretty fucking amazing."

You blushed, bending forward to kiss her on the cheek. "Oh please, I didn't even do anything." You replied bashfully against her skin.

Shiv delicately shimmied your bathing suit bottoms back up your legs, helping you fix yourself up. "It doesn't matter, y/n, I really, really enjoyed doing that."

The two of you spent a moment in bliss, standing up and kissing each other softly on the lips. The moment was interrupted as you suddenly remembered the predicament with the boat. You pulled back from her lips and pressed your forehead against hers, sighing. "We need to call someone to come get us." You reminded her softly.

Shiv closed her eyes and hummed in agreeance, but her hands were still on your waist, her fingers tracing small patterns into your side. "Didn't you bring a little shirt or whatever to wear in case you got cold?"

"Yeah, I did-"

"Good, you'll need it." Shiv opened her eyes and leaned in impossibly closer to you, her lips so tempting as they just barely moved against yours as she said, "Make that phone call."

Her head dipped down as her lips attached themselves to your neck, and you fought the urge to sink back in the chair and let her have her way with you again, instead reaching behind her to find your phone. Your mind was only on her, but you managed to call Jess, Kendall's assistant, and ask if a boat could come pick you up. You were aware of how hard you were stuttering though the phone call, your tone a little high pitched as Shiv sucked a trail of hickies into your neck and chest. You hung up quickly, your legs opening on instinct as Shiv's fingers trailed to the apex of your thighs.

"Shiv..." you breathed out. "Jess said it'll only be a few minutes; we don't have time..."

Shiv groaned against your skin but pulled herself away, her hands instead going to straighten out your bathing suit top. "It's fine, really... we can continue this tomorrow. She gave your cheek a small pinch before adding, "Get ready to join the mile-high club, honey."

#shiv roy #shiv roy x reader #shiv roy smut #succession #succession fic #succession smut #siobhan roy #smut #x reader #wlw smut #wlw #succession x reader

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motions1ckness · 9 months

Text

“Letting it linger”

Summary: Roman invited you to a family dinner where you two find a way to enjoy yourselves.

Contents: smut, established relationship, f!reader, dom/sub interactions, exhibitionism, choking, semi public, roman being needy, mention of sexual turmoil

(i’m so sorry if you saw this before i realized i added the same paragraph twice anyways)

This had to be one of the longest nights you have tolerated. You regret accepting Roman’s offer to be his plus one at this dinner. It wasn’t his fault. If it was up to him, he wouldn't have came.

The night was driving you insane. The dinner consisted of the Roy and Pierce families. Roman warned you about the pretentious comments and shitty conversation; you were not prepared for how fucking boring it was gonna be. During the first course, Roman rested his hand on your thigh, normal. It quickly turned into his hand resting close to your heat. You shot Roman a look, but he didn’t meet your eyes. It was a game now.

One of the Pierce's wives made conversation with you. Roman was picking at his food, not paying attention. “Well, I’ve never seen that one. What is it about?” You asked. She started talking and you decided to take action. As she was gabbing about the plot, you brought your hand to Roman’s pants and squeezed. The action made him yelp and practically jerk in his seat, “Rome are you okay?” You asked innocently. He sat at the end, only you could see what happened. He became flushed, his gaze surrendering to you as he sat dumbfounded.

It was risky. He needed a response, “Y-yeah, I'm, fuckin' fine,” he shook his head, removing the attention set on him, and the woman resumed her spiel. Roman’s pleading expression shifted to you, hand in the same place. He didn’t interrupt her; instead letting your hand linger. He adjusted his hips to gain more friction. He was rock-hard. His action surprised you, but it was all the confirmation you needed.

You started palming him through his pants, and he gave a slight huff as you wrapped up your conversation. You began moving quicker. You studied the room to make sure you both were above suspicion. Roman became pale from his arduous efforts to remain silent. You leaned over to his ear, “Stop looking like this is happening, you don't want everyone to see how pathetic you are? Especially your father,” you whispered.

You stayed close to his face as he turned to you. His eyes pleaded with you. Your mind explored the 'what if's?' in this situation. But it was the Pierce family, the dinner was crucial. “P-please, let’s go to the bathroom,” he breathed out. You stopped your action, causing him to repress a whine. Were you really about to do this? No one would suspect anything.

You moved your hand to his shoulder and whispered, “Then let’s go.”

With that, Roman wasted no time, excusing you both from the table. He had to follow close behind you to cover his strained pants. Once you two found the bathroom, you wasted no time kissing him against the door. It was sloppy and needy; one of your hands rested on his neck, the other stroking him.

You sped up your movement. Roman threw his head back, parting his mouth slightly. Provoking you to attack his neck and run your free hand through his hair, tugging at it slightly.

“Let’s fucking do it,” he says, panting. This wasn’t the first time you two had sex, just not as a casual affair. Your eyes lit up as you drew away from him, causing his hips to buck from the lack of sensation.

“Yeah, are you sure? Like actually do it?” You questioned. You weren't going to do anything he wasn’t okay with.

He looked at you, his face red and sweaty, and his eyes insisting. “Y-yes, I want this. Please.” He ensures, focusing his attention on tracing figures into your hip, waiting for a response. You studied his face just for additional assurance before kissing him again. Roman cupped your face as he stumbled, pushing you against the sink. His hands moved down and eventually made their way to your breasts. He kneaded them as you did your best to repress the noises, remembering the dinner outside. As you adjusted against the sink, you heard him undoing his belt. Roman glanced back at you while stroking himself. His eyes fluttered as you heard him spurt profanities.

You grab the back of his neck, “You still sure?” You also took this second to prepare yourself. You were about to hook up with your boyfriend in a bathroom. While his family was 50 feet away.

Roman rolled his eyes while forcing your underwear aside and pushing himself into you. You moan instinctively from the new sensation and dig your nails into Roman's neck. He quickly covers your mouth so you two don’t get caught.

He thrusts himself deeper, pressing his forehead against yours,” F-fuck, just keep quiet for me,” as he cut himself off with a low moan. You looked up at him, retaining eye contact. Roman’s eyes stayed on you, his small whimpers made you want him more. He let you both adjust to the feeling as he adjusted his other arm to keep you against the sink. He began a steady pace.

The room filled with sporadic moans as Roman’s eyebrows furrowed, you could tell he was close. He bucked you closer to him, resulting in him throwing his head back and moaning loudly. Roman moved his hand from your mouth to your throat, causing your eyes to widen from the feeling as a gasp escaped your throat from his noisy reaction. He froze for a moment after he realized how loud he was.

His face turned a deeper tint of red. His demeanor altered slightly, “D-do you think t-they heard me?” he asked. He felt worry trickle down his back. His frightened expression became apparent.

You moved your hand to his cheek reassuringly. “N-no, I think we’re all good,” you answered out of breath. You two waited a couple of seconds to make sure you were in the clear.

Roman looked down at where his hand sat, “Fuck,” he began removing his hand from your neck, but you kept it there.

“No, I like it. You wanted me to stay quiet right?” You said with a lustful grin. Roman’s eyes filled with hunger as he kissed you, returning to the previous pace and now applying pressure to your neck.

Roman’s thrusts started becoming more brutal. He was biting your shoulder to help conceal his whines. It wasn’t long until you felt a knotting sensation in your core. You knew he was close behind from the slight shuddering from his hips with every thrust. “Rome-”

He already knew what you were gonna say, “Do it.” he quickly responded, muffled from your shoulder. To suppress your climax, he tightened the grip on your neck, pushing you over the edge. You felt him bite harder, the mix of moans heating against your skin. Roman wasn’t far behind you. His hips started stuttering as he met his climax. You couldn't make out any of the words he was saying. It was a mixture of praises, swears, and moans.

After you both came down, he pulled out of you and put himself away. He didn’t talk to you immediately after, which made you believe he regretted it. You sat on the sink with your legs slightly trembling, thinking Roman was going to ignore you the rest of the evening.

“I think you'll fuckin' need this.” You look up and see a towel being handed to you. You met Roman’s eyes before getting up and started using the mirror, him directly behind you. You quickly cleaned up and adjusted your dress. “You better hope no one heard,” he said, pulling you closer to his hips.

The tension in your face eases, “It’d be your funeral.”

#roman roy #roman roy fanfic #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #succession #succession fanfic #roman roy drabble #roman roy smut #roman roy fluff #succession smut #roman roy succession

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succcession · 1 year

Note

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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chaithetics · 1 year

Text

Furtive Hands

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) reader

Word count: 7.3K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Continue.”

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

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

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

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

“And?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I’m your father.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**********

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

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

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

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

“Yo?”

“Dad came by the office earlier today.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you tell them?”

“Yeah, sure but-”

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How does now sound?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, please that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, I’m pretty close.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ve talked about eloping before.”

“Yeah, yes we have but-”

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

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

“I do and-”

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

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

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

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

********

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” he said softly.

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

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

“Have you thought about psychoanalysing yourself?”

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

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

“Excuse me?” You now glared at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So comforting and reassuring.” You dryly said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

“Are you saying you want to get eloped?”

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

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

“How does tomorrow sound?”

“For an elopement?” “Yeah.”

“Perfect.”

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