#Kendall Roy/Reader
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Sundog
pairing: Kendall Roy/Reader summary: Then, he's slotting his chin between your breasts, sighing so heavily you can feel the warmth and moisture of his breath ooze through the fabric of your shirt. His thumbs hook into the waistband of your pajama shorts, soft with age. âIâve had a long fucking day.â words: 2865 tags: EXPLICIT, porn with some plot (Kendall is ceo, but-), a hint of angst, light dom/sub, mutual masturbation, thigh riding a/n: I started writing this back in February of 2023...
Long days. Clicking a pen, faster than the seconds could pass. Some days heâd lose track of time, the sun would have been fully set before heâd notice there was no more light streaming into his office. Today seemed to be never-ending. Words on the screen would pixelate, the ones on paper, smudging. The numbers meant nothing, and he felt quite the business school clichĂ©, only really able to focus on the color of the candlesticks. Seconds, minutes, hours, too many seemed red, like the heat of the day crawling by. Kendall would hold a few slugged-through pages between his index and middle fingers up to reveal a new one, eyes moving over the words as many times as it took to actually read. Felt the rough paper against the sensitive skin of his fingers, to not think of harder things. Softer things.
---
Sometimes heâd look to his dadâs suite still expecting to see him sitting there. Five oâclock was out of the question, but he didnât know if he had it in him to wait until whatever time his brain felt would have, hypothetically, satisfied his father. (There was no such time.) Another hour, but it was essentially time theft. And perfunctory, performative- he could leave whenever the hell he wanted. (Still under his watchful eye.)
For the short walk from the building to the back of his chauffeured car, Kendall felt ten pounds heavier. Slipping his sunglasses on as soon as he stepped outside to shield himself from the penetrative rays. Sweltering, heat distorted, the air is coming up from the asphalt, off the hoods of cars, in waves. He sighs. The air is thick with humidity and makes him think of things he always tries not to. He slides into the backseat, the leather mercifully cool from where the air conditioning had been allowed to run in preparation for him.
Summer seems to have crept into him, past his skin and into the meat and bones. His stomach. Thoughts of water trickling, pouring, trying to chill people who continued to warm themselves. You could generate steam off the friction and body temperatures alone.
He felt so hard it was almost juvenile.
â
Dogs and cats will sunbathe in the sunlight that comes in through those stain-glass windows in front doors. The AC will chill the air, but anything the light touches is warmed. Through fur, and through clothes.
Itâs all fucking windows. Bedroom and great room and dining room. Inescapable, infrared. You long for paper-thin white sheets, a rattling box fan to tuck it around. Colder than laying in snow. Absolute zero. The setting of the sun was more attainable. Just three hours away.
By the time heâs in the elevator, heâs itchy and aching from irritation. Wants to shed himself of his blazer at the very least. Is tired of the abrasive, stiffened nature that heâs always surrounded with, standing sturdy against the loosening of every other molecule and bond. Somehow.
He knows where he can get pliancy, though.
When he steps foot into the penthouse itâs not exactly hot, but it's stagnant. Even here there are little specks of dust floating and visible in the beams of sunlight. If he was honest with himself, he didnât really know how to prevent dust, or what even causes it. Skin? Dirt brought in from outside?
You round the corner from the kitchen- hardly its own, enclosed room- find Kendall rolling his sleeves up. His shirt is so white its almost blue; the tan of his skin, brown of his moles, darker against it. The glass water bottle you carry is perspiring, the heat of your body penetrating, evaporating. You want to watch him, biting your lip at the flex of his fingers, tendons in his hands, muscles in his forearm. Heâs watching himself do it, making the folds neat and even. The angle of his face highlights the bumps in the bridge of his nose, the thickness of his lashes, and you have to close the gap.
âYouâre home kind of early,â its sweet, affectionate. The way you sound when you thank him. Gracious; soft. He straightens. Glances at you.
âYeah, well-âevasive. Not thinking of you at all.
Two ways- when your hand wraps around his bicep he wants to bring you closer, push you away. He manages to stay still.
âDid you guys ever put cold drinks against your necks to cool down?â
Before he can even answer youâre doing just that for him, the frosty glass pressing against his carotid quickening his pulse and seeming to chill everything inside his chest. The sweat is wetting his skin, dampening his collar. It's so quintessentially summer; some fleeting relief.
âNo. We had servants to fan us with those, uh, big fucking leaves.â So deadpan one could think he was serious. Your cheeks are pinched with a restrained smile, eyes glittering. Sometimes he wishes youâd just kiss him instead of hesitating -admiring- and creating this tension.
âMhmm. Naturally.â
When he pulls away you donât try to stop him. He tugs the fold of his collar away, then pulls it back against himself. Trying to be subtle, like heâs just straightening it, not depriving himself of the now warm, damp spot for a moment so he can enjoy it more when it's returned.
He flattens his lips. Thereâs an endless itch he needs scratched.
He sits on the couch, ridged and on the edge of the cushion, like heâs trying to level with you, implore to you. His body strains against his shirt- the buttons strain a little, tufts of chest hair are visible where the top ones are undone.
Kendall beckons you over casually- âCome here.â The ease of it always made you feel a little hotter, a little giddy. When you get close enough, he takes the bottle of water from you, sets it aside before leaning forward. Eyes on yours as he grabs your waist, pulls you to stand between his parted thighs, lean and toned against yours. He smiles up at you and itâs downright sweet- you want to tell him heâs pretty, full lips pulled back in a wide v. Your hands rest easily on his shoulders, cheeks pink with affection as you return his smile.
The kiss is only natural, slow and tender, but just as you go to readjust the way your lips slot against his, heâs yanking you even closer, thumbs digging into your hip bones so deep you gasp, his nose pressing into your cheek so tightly it bends. Then his chin is slotted between your breasts. He lets out a sigh so heavy you can feel the warmth and moisture of his breath ooze through the fabric of your shirt.
His thumbs hook into the waistband of your pajama shorts, soft with age.
âIâve had a long fucking day.â
Kendall does it quick, undresses you from the waist down without much fanfare. Tipping his chin down to watch as he pulls the shorts- and your underwear- down your thighs, moving his head away from you just enough to make it easier when he slips it over your knees, his hands fisting themselves into the clothes to tug more forcefully. There would usually be some easing into this, more kissing and touching, (not that there were never rushes, but, well, this wasnât rushed.) He runs his palms back up your legs, up the sides, your knees buckling a little as his thumbs swipe over them broadly. They move up and around your thighs, cupping your ass as he looks up at you again.
Your legs shift. You wonder what heâs going to do. What heâs got planned. Suddenly itâs not hot enough.
âUm-?â
âI want you to ride my thigh.â
You scoff incredulously. Heâs deadpan again so, surely, heâs joking.
âDo people actually do that?â
âYou will.â
Of course you will. Heâs smiling up at you, digging his fingers into your hips. Thereâs a firmness to his expression. He nudges the side of your leg with his knee and it feels real. Whole torso seeming to bubble with nerves and excitement.
You look at him and huff out a single, weak little laugh, but there is no bluff to be called. His forehead wrinkles when he raises his brows. Impatient.
Moving to straddle him feels awkward. It's not exactly unfamiliar- lots of people get off like this, when theyâre young and learning about their bodies, and maybe you had, too. And maybe there was fabric involved then, too, but certainly no leg beneath. No person around at all.
He feels your hands trembling as they slide down to his biceps- somehow you both feel more solid to each other than you ever have. Heâs thankful you arenât looking, because any commanding facade he had has slipped away with your gaze. Working too hard to school his breathing; you give in to him, and heâs enraptured.
When you finally press against him, it aches. Not unfamiliar. Your chest heaves. Heâs slim, but sturdy. Your face tingles with warmth- embarrassment- and you try not to get ahead of yourself, thinking-
âDo you need help?â
As if youâd been just sitting there, like minutes had passed or something.
âN-no.â
You shift your hips, take in a staggered breath. Maybe you had been sitting here for minutes. Shame and desire are symbiotic, show in the way you tremble from restraint. His hands slip under your shirt, running up your back and nudging you forward.
âThereâs a- I feel rushed.â
âDonât feel rushed. Thereâs no rush. Just, fuckin, get yourself off on my leg. Now.â
Itâs the kind of command that shows he knows heâll always get what he wants, cushioned in excitement and eagerness. Infectious; if you see how much he wants it, wants you to do it, youâll want it, too.
And you do.
The first pass is slow and tentative. The hood of your clit is tugged upward as you angle your pelvis back, and you exhale noisily. You can feel every thread of his slacks, finely woven and stiff, all the way down into your toes. Thereâs an instinctive urge to keep yourself quiet, to get yourself off as quickly as you can, so you donât get caught. Fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, hips wiggling to get a better angle. If drool spilled out of Kendallâs open mouth, pooling, dribbling over the plumpness of his bottom lip, he wouldnât be surprised.
Heâs trying to keep his cool. This was supposed to be mean to you. Degrading, a little show for him. A reward for -a distraction from- the tedium and sterility of the job he gave almost everything up for. But his face is so flushed it hurts, ears and sinuses aching, and he kind of wonders where that blood even comes from, because heâs throbbing against his leg. You look so demure. Pretty, sweat gathering in the crooks of your elbows, along the base of your neck already, from the strain of perching, rutting against his leg. Glittering in the light from the sun. His pants are tailored too slim. He swallows, shifts on the couch to try and give himself some space, and you gasp as his thigh presses firmly against your vulva.
âDonâtââ
Wobbly and strained. Itâs clear, from the minute trembling of your thighs, the slackening of your jaw, that you liked it. His hands glide over your hips, down your thighs, long fingers sticking to your dewy skin.
âSorry.â
Licking his teeth. A big grin on his face. Heâs not fucking sorry; he does it again. The heel of your hand digs into his shoulder, but the moan you let out undermines any attempt at really putting your foot down.
âFuckingâ stop,â giggly and spineless, but this time, he does obey, pleased that the jolt of his thigh has knocked loose your inhibitions. You widen your stance, reach a hand down to his hip to get more leverage. The leather of his belt is cool and smooth against your heated palm. Heâs pushed you onto the right track.
Emboldened, determined, messy. Really going for it, now, hips rolling, bearing down on him to get that perfect scratch. He tugs your shirt up to see, to catch a peak of the streak of wetness left behind, darkening the fabric of his slacks. In the center of his chest, this tightening, cloying need to touch it. Rub it in, bring it to his mouth and taste it, but he doesnât want to interrupt. Doesnât want to break the spell and make you remember that heâs there, so that the embarrassment might wash over you anew. No, he wants you to cum like this, desperate and animalistic. Redirecting that energy, that need to grab and touch, he presses his palm against his cock, grunting at the pressure, loosely curling his fingers around himself and tugging to get some sort of relief.
Both of you moan. Thatâsâplenty. Way too fucking hot. Your minds run, sprint, parallel to each otherâs with the same desires. Watching each other, wanting the other to make a mess of his nice, expensive clothes. Cascading. A feedback loop. Your fingers open and curl to get a better hold, to ride a little faster. The clinking, the buzzing of metal. He unbuckles his belt, opens his fly. The air between you is muggy, rapidly exchanged. The head of his cock flushed pink and swollen, skin pulled shiny-taut. Youâre staring, as he wraps his hand around himself. Your eyebrows pinch. You want him so fucking bad. In your hand. On your tongue. Heavy and smooth.
Another pass. The pleat of his slacks catches on you, rigid and perfect and just what you need. He sees you try to chase it, squirming but unable to hit it the same way. So he flattens his palm on his upper thigh, just tight enough to keep it in place, without smoothing out the fold. Blood rushes, tingly and hot, all the way to the top of your head.
âYes, Kendall,â gasped and dripping with gratitude, like itâs the texture of his fingertips thatâs rubbing against you.
One of your thumbs tucks up under his hand, so you can rest yours on his leg, too. Grabbing, pulling yourself over him. The touch is so tender and intimate it makes his heart clench. He really isnât there, now, as you get closer and closer. As you grind, rough and frantic against his leg. He jerks himself rhythmically, mechanically, trying to time it with each desperate jerk of your body. Both of your hands wrap around his thigh, your eyes closed, each movement and moan and whimper shorter and harsher and his mouth drops open at the sight of it. He grips his thigh, pinching your thumb between it and his hand, but neither of you mind. His other leg swings wider, knee almost bumping against the firm edge of the couch as he feels his balls pull tight against his body. He can smell you, your sweat, maybe even the tang of your arousal. See the strain this puts on your body, to balance and rut and try to get yourself off like this. Chest heaving, eyes glued to where your shirt drapes between your thighs, like itâs this mystical, magical, unattainable placeâ though he tries to keep himself quiet, hidden, he moans, as that first rope of cum falls, splats dully on the hardwood floor. You look up, to his face, find long lashes fanned across his cheeks, face pinched as he works himself through it, his leg bouncing, just a little.
âMm, fuck,â you look, sound, surprised, almost agonized, watching as it pools milky white and thick between his knuckles. He watches you, the webbing between his thumb and index finger nestled at the base at the base of his cock, holding it upright as you tilt your hips and move them raggedly, harshly, to get that kind of orgasm that feels gooey and wet and endless. Your face goes slack. You drag yourself through it, barely making a sound, wanting it to last as long as possible.
You want it to go on forever because, once itâs over, embarrassment starts to creep in. It creeps into you both. The pace and the roughness of your movements. The specificities of the way you liked to get yourselves off. Itâs raw, vulnerable in a way that neither of you expected. That you rarely ever were with each other. Your legs are shaking. Each crevice in your body is slick with sweat, and it makes you feel gross.
âThat wasâ ha.â
You wet your lips. Your mouth is dry.
âI donât know how you can do that for so long,â itâs sheepish, but thereâs also a hint of appreciation. Moving like that, for even that brief of a period of time, makes your whole body hurt. Core and upper arms and calves. Top to bottom. You go to stand, and he has to catch you, steady you with a still sticky hand on your waist. You grimace, but the mess is also kind ofâ hot.
âYou just need to work on your stamina.â
#kendall roy#kendall roy x reader#kendall roy/reader#reader insert#succession#succession hbo#my writing
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masterlist
SUCCESSION reader inserts
Kendall Roy
Late at Night
Lost My Mind Today 18+
Sleepless 18+
Kissing StrangersÂ
You Make Me Want ThingsÂ
It Was YouÂ
The Holy MountainÂ
A Good PersonÂ
Nowhere
Iâll be Home Soon 18+
Iâm Glad Youâre Here
Pain
Roman Roy
When Heâs Gone
Hit Me
Did You Miss Me?
Youâre an Asshole
Heartbreaker
Lukas Matsson
Normal People 18+
People Are Watching (Normal People pt. 2) 18+
Leave Your Clothes On
Awake 18+
Tom Wambsgans
My Life is Filled with Fear 18+
If I Could Start Again 18+
Whispering
You Have To Leave
All the Wine 18+
Greg Hirsch
You Donât Have to Go
Getaway Ch 1
Getaway Ch 2
Other People
Non-Reader Inserts
Tell Me You Love Me (Ao3 link) - Jeryd Mencken/Roman Roy
THE KILLER (2023)
The Killer x Original Female Character
Heaven Knows Iâm Miserable Now (pt. 1) (pt. 2)Â (pt. 3) (pt. 4) (Ao3 links)
THE LAST OF US
Joel Miller x Original Female Character
If the Fates Allow (Ao3 link)
#succession#fanfiction#reader insert#succession reader insert#kendall roy x reader#kendall roy/reader#kendall roy#roman roy x reader#roman roy/reader#roman roy#lukas matsson x reader#lukas matsson/reader#lukas matsson#greg hirsch x reader#greg hirsch/reader#greg hirsch#tom wambsgans#tom wambsgans x reader#tom wambsgans/reader#roman x jeryd#roman roy x jeryd mencken#writing#masterlist#the killer
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Only You
[Kendall Roy x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Kendall never had anyone that he could truly rely on. But now, he has you, and that's all that matters {GIF Creds: Honestly i couldn't find who made it⊠just know that I didn't}.
WC: 753
Category: Lime/Spice, Slight Angst
I just finished Succession tonight and my heart literally hurts so much for Kendall, so I had to write this to ease my mind.
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âKennyâŠâ You sigh into his neck, his teeth nipping at your ear.
His hands travel from your thighs to the dip of your back and up, pulling the thin fabric of your dress over your head and off, tossing it onto the floor.
He grins, kissing down your jaw to the swell of your breasts. You can feel him, hard and thick through his jeans, pressed against you, and you need him. Need to feel him inside you. Need to feel his skin against yours.
Your breath is shallow and hot.
Kendall kisses the hollow of your throat, your pulse hammering against his lips. He takes your chin in his hand and makes you look at him. You stare into his eyes, deep and brown, the color of the earth. He stares right back, and you can feel his heartbeat, fast and in time with yours.
You lean in, pressing your lips to his. He kisses you back, softly at first, but then, hungry, devouring, as if he were a starving man.
You unbutton his shirt, letting it fall to the floor, and push him down on the bed. He pulls you on top of him, and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you. His hands are warm as they caress your body, sending tingles up and down your spine.
He needed this; you knew it, just like you needed it. It was only a matter of time before he broke down before he let you back in. He needed someone to be there for himâsomeone who loved him unconditionally and would stand by him no matter what.
His touch was gentle and loving. The way he held you, kissed you. It was almost as if he didn't want to let you go. As if he was afraid of losing you.
Your heart ached for him. Ached for the man who was lost and alone, the man who had no one else. Nothing else.
With all the hot garbage and corruption within Waystar, Kendall could always rely on you. You were his constant. His anchor.
He would never admit it, not even to himself, but he was scared. He was scared and alone, and he needed someone.
Roman couldnât give him that. Shiv could barely stand to look at him. His mother? Well, she wasn't the type.
And then there was you. You had been by his side, supporting him for as long as he could remember.
He didn't know when he had started to notice you, started to love you. But he had. Rava couldn't fill the void in his heart. No woman could. But you could.
You had been there for him every step of the way, no matter what. When the shit hit the fan, when his father cut him out, when his family betrayed him, you were there. You were his light in the darkness.
The night that Kendall told the world his father was at fault for the cruise ship disaster, the full turnaround he did on the presser and the aftermath had been hell. Logan had thrown a tantrum, screaming and shouting and threatening to cut him off completely.
For a little while, it seemed like he would, too.
But you had been there for him.
Kendall had broken down, sobbing, after it was all over. When the weight of it all had finally hit him, he had felt guilty and ashamed.
You had sat with him, comforting him. You hadnât judged him. You hadnât told him it was his fault, that he was wrong. You had simply listened.
And that had meant the world to him.
When he had finished crying, when his sobs had subsided, he had kissed you.
He hadn't planned to. But the look in your eyes, the concern, the compassion, the love, he couldn't help himself. It was a soft kiss. Tender. Loving. He had cupped your face in his hands, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.
After that night, everything had changed.
You had become the only thing he could count on.
You were always there for him, no matter what.
Now, as you lay together, the sheets twisted around your bodies, your bare skin touching his, he knew.
He knew the person who would always have his back, who would never leave him, was you.
And that was why he had given you his heart.
Kendall didn't need anyone or anything else.
He only needed you.
Just you and only you.
#kendall roy#kendall roy x reader#kendall roy/reader#kendall roy x female!reader#kendall roy x you#x reader#fanfic#reader#fanfiction#succession tv#succession show#succession#roman roy#roman roy x reader#jeremy strong#jeremy strong x reader#shiv roy#shiv roy x reader#connor roy#connor roy x reader#logan roy#stewy hosseini#kendall roy x oc#succession hbo#succession fandom#succession fic#succession fanfic#headcanon#blurb#angst
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I Can Take a Beating (Like a Good Pair of Headphones)
Pairing: Kendall Roy x Reader
Rating: T, shockingly
Notes: Hey look it's that Kendall Valentine's oneshot I mentioned. Title from the Walk the Moon song Headphones. Written today and not beta-read, shocker, I know. also lolololol posted it to the wrong account the first time
Warnings: Cursing; Roman being a little shit; mostly fluff; potential power imbalance
Summary: This is where Kendall feels a littleâŠConflicted. He could hold out for whenever your birthday is, but your headphones seem to be on their last legs. And if heâs being totally honest, heâs been considering asking you out. Valentineâs is just a few days away. He couldâŠGive them to you, ask you for a drink then? Or would you feel obligated because heâs the boss and heâs giving you a gift?Â
GIF by jeremystrongs
He sort of admires your loyalty to your old pair. Youâve clearly had them for longer than theyâre meant to be kept. You use them every time you're listening in on a meeting, or if you're head-down to get some work done. When you're finished, you always lift the headphones off of your ears with tender reverence, setting them aside and plugging them in to charge immediately (for as long as you mustâve had them, heâs certain the battery must be on its last legs). Then you always reach up, brushing little black flecks of flaked padding away from your ears before you duck your head back, inspecting your collar and shoulders for any little bits that may have escaped your notice.Â
 Look, he gets it. Kendallâs a headphone guy.
Heâs ready, willing, and able to discuss the merits of Meze, Denons, Bowers & Wilkins, Sweetwaters. He has more pairs than he can count, more pairs than he cares to think about. And maybe thatâs why he does this himself, instead of asking Jess to handle it. It becomes a bit of a pet-project. He puts more time into it than heâd care to admit. He has a goddamn spreadsheet to compare each of the models heâs considering getting you based on the music heâs heard you discuss.Â
He has Roman do some snooping. Itâs not a hardship. Youâre one of the few people at Waystar Royco that Roman can stand. Kendall has to barter a couple of assignments and a future favor for it, but itâs worth it. Roman gets a breakdown of what you like to listen to, a full arrayâmusic, podcasts, audiobooks, streaming services that you prefer to use. And for the minor tooth-pulling it took to get his brother to agree, Kendallâs got to hand it to Roman. He got all of the dirt that Kendall needed to make a decision.Â
Kendall winds up having a pair custom made. The headband has a subtle diamond pattern, using two of the colors he sees you wearing often. The earpads are thick and cushy, and certain not to flake any time soon. He makes sure to have a headphone jack included, just in case, you know. He wants to give you options.Â
But this is where Kendall feels a littleâŠConflicted. He could hold out for whenever your birthday is, but your headphones seem to be on their last legs. And if heâs being totally honest, heâs been considering asking you out. Valentineâs is just a few days away. He couldâŠGive them to you, ask you for a drink then? Or would you feel obligated because heâs the boss and heâs giving you a gift?Â
Heâll have them delivered to your desk, thatâs what heâll do. Heâll gauge your reaction, see how you like them, work it out from there.Â
--Â Â
âRoman! Is this why you were asking me all of those questions about what I listen to?âÂ
âWell, you know," His brother gives a lame shrug, eyes wandering the package on your desk.
âThis is so sweet of you, you didnât have to do this!âÂ
Kendallâs heart drops from his mouth to his stomach. He canât do anything but watch as you rest your new custom headphones back down in the box and throw your arms around Romanâs shoulders with a gleeful grin. Kendall blinks dumbly as Roman reluctantly raises his arms and gives your sides a pat.Â
Roman just shrugs. âMaybe now that black shit from your other pair will stop getting all over the fuckinâ place.âÂ
Youâre laughing. Youâre laughing at Roman and youâre hugging him. Itâs not right. Thatâs supposed to be Kendallâs laugh, and Kendallâs hug. Kendall swallows roughly, turning from the two of them as Jess warns him that he has a meeting in three.Â
âUhâYeah. Yeah, thanks,â He nods. He chances one last glance at you. He takes in the way you draw back from Roman, picking up the headphones. He sees you smooth your fingers over the diamond patterning, and the earpads. You look so goddamn happy. It makes him feel so goddamn happy.Â
Itâs almost enough to quash his urge to ask Roman what the fuck he was thinking.Â
--Â Â
âWhat the fuck were you thinking?âÂ
âWhat? Dude,â Roman frowns as Kendall leans into his space, cornering him before either can leave the conference room. âDid you have falafel for lunch? Iâm getting garlic.â
âYou know you didnât send her those fucking headphones,â Kendall spits.Â
âNo, but who cares? I did all the research, right?âÂ
âYou asked her some questions. I did the research.âÂ
Roman rolls his eyes, glancing back in your direction. Kendall looks over Romanâs shoulder, peering through the glass wall to where youâre sitting at your desk. Youâre using your new headphones. Every now and again, your fingers raise to brush over the band, or over the outside of the pads. Each time, your smile widens before you force yourself to refocus.Â
âYou want me to go tell her?â Roman offers.Â
âNo. No, you have done more than enough.âÂ
Roman smirks, holding his hands up in mock surrender before miming zipping his lips shut. Kendall puffs irritatedly as he draws back from Roman, meeting Jess at the door.Â
âWhatâs next?â He asks, eyes set on you as he walks down the hall. Jess rattles off his next few meetings, appointments, a note that he still hasnât RSVPâd to Shiv and Tomâs for their Valentineâs dinner (or Valentinner as Tom had called it when he reminded Kendall of it that morning). Kendall considers for a moment. If he had a date for Valentineâs, Tom would probably get off his back about going to that stupid thing (then again, probably not. It would likely be met with a hearty congratulations and an urging to bring them along, no matter how premature the meet-the-family stage would be. Then again, you already know most of Kendallâs familyâbut still, he wants to take you to dinner, not into the lion's den).Â
âOkayâŠOkay. Iâve got,â He shakes his sleeve back from his wrist, âWhat, half an hour free?âÂ
âYep,â Jess nods.Â
âOkay. Iâll uhâŠIâll meet you back at my office. Thanks.âÂ
He stops as Jess goes on, and watches you across the office again. He canât tell at this distance, but are youâŠListening in on a meeting? Or are you focused up? He doesnât want to interrupt your flow. He had those headphones specifically noise-cancelling so that nothing would interrupt your flow. He glances toward his office, then back over to you. He can justâŠLook, right? He can look over your shoulder from like a desk back, see what the hell youâre working on and make a judgment call. Yeah. Yeah, thatâll do it. Kendall moves carefully, desperately trying not to look at anyone as he walks through the office (though he fails and subsequently gives a quick smile, a mutter of, âHi,â when he meets the odd personâs eye).Â
He gets a couple of feet behind you and tips his chin up a touch, eyeing your screen over your shoulder. Email. Heâs seeing email. Email opening, email closing, email being archived, so nothing tooâŠInvolved, probably.Â
Kendall can still turn away from this. He can still turn around, and let it go. And then you tip your head forward, your fingers brushing over the band. He can see the reflection of your smile on your laptop screen, andâYeah, damnit. Heâs gonna do this. Heâs not letting this go.Â
--Â Â
You glance up at the vibration of knuckles wrapping against your desk. You glance to them, then up at the person knocking. You do a double-take at the sight of Kendall standing in front of your desk. You grin, sliding your headphones off of your ears.Â
âHey!âÂ
âHi,â Kendall smiles, his eyes dropping to where youâre still grasping your headphones. âYou busy? You wanna go grab some coffee?âÂ
âYeah! Yeah, sure,â You nod, looking down at your laptop. âJust lemme me, umâŠâ You finish off an email and pause your music before you carefully slip your headphones off. You raise your hands to your ears, absently dusting at your ears, though thereâs no reason for you to. The pads of your new headphones are pristine, and uncracked. You stand, pulling your jacket on and rounding the desk to join Kendall.Â
--Â
âHowâs, uhâŠHowâs your morning going?â He asks. The two of you are pressed pretty close in the crowded waiting area of the Starbucks, waiting for your drinks.
âItâs been pretty nice, actually. Not completely crammed with meetingsâand I had a really unexpected gift on my desk this morning.â
âOh yeah?âÂ
âMhm! I mean, I had a little, uhâŠA suspicion when Roman asked me about all of the stuff I listen to.âÂ
âReally.âÂ
âYeah. Howâs yours been?âÂ
âItâs uh, itâs, uhâŠâ Kendall trails off, looking around. âBeen kind of a mixed bag.âÂ
âReally?â You shift from foot to foot, fingers accidentally brushing against Kendall's. âWhatâs going on, everything okay?âÂ
âThings are fine, but I have to,â He clears his throat. âI have to tell you something.âÂ
âOkay,â You nod. Kendall looks like heâs trying to bring something up and hold it back all at once. His lips are pursed into a thin line, his brow furrowed. You tip your head to the side a little, raising your brows. âWhatâs going on?â You press softly.
âThe truth isâŠâ He seems to weigh his words for a moment before he meets your eye. Youâre stunned by the way he watches youâwith a nervous smile on his lips.Â
âThose headphones, umâŠThey werenât from Roman.âÂ
Your chest flutters with nerves and butterflies as it sinks in. âThey were from you?âÂ
âYeah.âÂ
âWhy did Roman let me think that they were from him?âÂ
âBecause heâs a shithead. I mean heâs my brother, I love him, but he likes to do things that get under my skin.âÂ
âHe seems good at it.âÂ
âOh, heâs an expert,â Kendall chuckles softly. âBut I, uhâŠyou know, you work really hard, and you clearly, like, love your headphones, so I just wanted you to have some good ones.âÂ
âGood ones? Kendall, you got me, like, the 24-karat gold of headphones.âÂ
âI mean, yeah. Yeah but youâve earned themââ He goes quiet as you dart in, curling your arms around him before you can think to stop yourself. You didnât hesitate like this when you went to hug Roman, but Roman is different. You have a far more casual relationship with Roman. You and Kendall, well. Thereâs always been this feeling pulling you toward him, but with this revelation and this gift, itâs grown stronger. Kendallâs hands rest hesitantly on your back before he draws you into his chest a bit more. You grin, turning and pressing your face into his shoulder.Â
The two of you let go as you hear your orders called. You turn, smiling as he passes you yours.Â
âThank you,â You smile, and repeat it as he opens the door for you. The two of you take meandering steps back toward the office, keeping close enough for your arms to brush as you go.Â
âI uhâŠI actually wanted to ask you something,â Kendall adds.Â
âOh?âÂ
âYeah, I know, uhâŠI mean, Iâve been meaning to do this for a while. Not the headphones thing, but this other thingâAnd I donât want the headphones thing to effect this other thing.â
âOkay.âÂ
The two of you come to a stop at a crosswalk, watching cars zip by as you wait to cross.Â
âWhat is it?â You press. Kendallâs gaze sweeps your face before he looks down at his coffee cup.Â
That guarded gaze is back. âI wanted to know if youâd be interested in grabbing dinner, or a drink sometime. Something, you know.âÂ
Your brows raise, your smile widening as you nod.Â
âYes, I would.âÂ
âI mean, it doesnât have to be a big thingââ
âRightââÂ
ââBut I would like to get to know you better, and Iâd really, umâI mean it when I said that I donât want the headphones to uh, to influenceââÂ
Kendall goes quiet as you lean in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He blinks at you in surprise, and you grin as you draw away.Â
âIâm up for dinner, or drinks, orâŠWhatever,â You insist.Â
âThis is going to sound clichĂ© and stupid, but are you busy this Valentineâs?âÂ
âI am notâŠOn one condition.âÂ
âOkay, yeah. What is it?âÂ
âWe donât go to that Valentineâs dinnerâŠ.Thing that Tomâs doing.âÂ
Kendall smiles widely, shaking his head. âI would never put you through that, trust me.âÂ
âOkay,â You laugh, âThen yes, letâs umâŠYeah. Letâs.âÂ
--Â Â
Kendall doesnât walk you back to your deskâheâs got his own meeting to get to. But you feel him watching you as you settle down at your desk, unlocking your laptop and picking your headphones up. You glance up his gaze, smiling and winking as he catches your gaze. You bite back a giggle as he grins and turns hurriedly, nearly walking into a wall as he goes. You dip your head, pressing play and forcing yourself to refocus on your work.Â
#Kendall Roy x Reader#Kendall Roy x You#Kendall Roy/Reader#Kendall Roy/You#Kendall Roy fic#Kendall Roy imagine#I Can Take a Beating (Like a Good Pair of Headphones)
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something only we know
18+ minors dni!! smut, vaginal fingering, oral sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, soft dom!ken, implied age gap
a/n: this is my first ever fic? i wrote this in my notes app so i apologize in advance if it sucks lol also if i missed any tags or warnings please lmk!!! i also posted this on ao3. my username there is hardt0explain
You can sense his presence before you actually see him. Someone like Kendall commands the attention of a room that way. Youâre at your favorite dive bar, a place Kendall is known to frequent when heâs in a certain headspace, feeling particularly young and daring. Glancing his way, you can see Ken has that gleam in his eye. You smile to yourself, knowing if you play your cards right you wonât even have to ask - he will be ravenous, animalistic.
Kendall sees you smiling to yourself; youâre clearly not paying attention to your friend chattering on beside you. So smug, Ken thinks to himself as he suppresses a grin. He knows how much of an ego boost it is for you when he shows up out of the blue, wanting you. He knows youâre going to be fun tonight.
âHi,â Ken approaches your table and shamelessly rakes his eyes over your body.
Your friend has seen Kendall approach you multiple times at this very bar, but she can never really get used to it. She stops in her tracks, mid-sentence, mouth agape.
âHi, Ken,â you take your straw out of your cocktail and place it between your teeth, still holding it between your pointer finger and thumb. âYou decided to make your quarterly pop-in, eh?â
âWell, of course. I just, uh, had a feeling you might be here. We have that kind of magnetic pull toward one another, donât you think?â Ken is laying it on thick already. This might be a record.
Your friend takes that as her cue to leave and politely excuses herself, âOh! I think I see my friend from my yoga class. Iâm gonna catch up with her - call me if you need me, okay?â She gives your hand a squeeze before heading across the bar.
âYou know, I think there might be something there. Itâs just hard to tell sometimes,â you tease as Kendall scoots in beside you at your booth. Heâs right up next to you, his thigh flush against yours and his face so close to yours you can smell the sandalwood of his beard oil. Heâs grown out his facial hair. Just a bit. He looks fucking good.
âYou think?â Kendall challenges, the k at the end of the word prominent. You nod and ghost your fingers over his knee, up to his mid-thigh and drape your hand to casually linger between his legs. You look up at him through heavily lidded eyes. His breathing hitches.
âYes, baby, I think. What if you take me and show me? You wanna see how good I can take your cock?â Youâre feeling bold now. You slide your hand up to feel his cock hardening inside his trousers. Your face is still close to his; you lean in close to his ear and whine.
âAlright. Letâs go. Brat.â
Kendall practically drags you to his car. Once youâve shut the car door, heâs on you. You try to play coy but he isnât having it. His hands are all over you - cupping your face as he kisses you deeply, pulling your hair so he can kiss and nip at your exposed neck, grasping your breasts through your dress. You let out a whine when he suddenly stops.
âNot yet,â is all he says.
On the elevator ride up to his penthouse, he grabs your hand and rubs his thumb along your knuckles. Heâs still not looking your direction. You know youâre in for it.
The elevator dings - Kendall steps over the threshold and pulls you into his penthouse with fervor. His lips are on yours and he is just as you imagined, just as he has always been - needy, passionate. You love having him this way. He walks you backwards, making your way to his living room.
âDid you miss me, baby?â you coo, turning around and bracing yourself on the couch so you can give a little bounce against his cock. Heâs breathing heavy already.
âFuck you,â he groans. Kendall pulls up the skirt of your dress and bends you over the arm of the couch. âFucking brat,â he pulls your panties down and off your body. âGod, you have no right feeling this fucking good,â he says as he pushes two fingers into your cunt. âSo fucking wet for me, baby.â
You cry out, arching your back and grinding against his fingers. Fuck, why does he have to be so good at this? Before you can catch your breath, Ken drops to his knees and bends you further over the arm of the couch so he can reach your cunt with his mouth. You can feel his moans vibrating into you as he drinks you in, eating pussy like his life depends on it. Fuck, the way his facial hair scratches against you, your clit, your thighs.
âBaby, oh fuâ oh fuck. I needââ you stutter. Then, Kenâs patronizing voiceâ
âOh, sweetheart, I know you can do better than that. Use your words baby, come on. Tell me what you need from me.â
âKen, Iâ I need you. Fuck,â you manage.
âYou need me? Oh, baby, I know that. Come on. Surely youâre not fucked stupid yet, baby. Tell me exactly what you need,â Kendallâs scolding now.
âKendall, oh god, I need to fuck you.â
Kendall lets out a low groan, âGood girl.â
Ken is back on his feet again. You hear a belt buckle and zipper. You feel the tip of his cock brushing against your cunt and subconsciously push your hips back, seeking him out. Kendall stops your hips before he can enter you.
âOh, you are so pitiful. Such a pathetic little thing,â Kendall condescends. He leans closer and whispers in your ear, âYouâre so fucking good for me,â and pushes himself inside you completely.
You barely recognize your voice as you cry out his name, grabbing at the pillows in front of you and Ken behind you and anything you can get your hands on to tether yourself to reality. You push your hips back into him and arch your back, trying to get him as far inside you as possible. Kendall grabs your hips and snaps his into you, grunting as he thrusts.
âLetâs try something,â Ken interrupts. He pulls off his trousers and button down shirt, boxers following shortly after. You slip your dress off and Kendall hands you his button down.
âPut this on. Leave it unbuttoned.â
You do as youâre told and Kendall promptly pulls you down onto the floor with him, giving you kisses and grasping at your breasts hungrily.
Kendall sits cross legged, and with much care and attention, helps you wrap your legs around him and lower yourself onto his cock. The closeness, the intimacy is so much more intense than you could have ever imagined or hoped for. Your nipples press up against his bare chest. Kendall looks at you hungrily, thinking that witnessing you in this position wearing his shirt is the most beautiful thing heâs ever seen.
You run your nails down his back, feeling the slickness of his sweat atop his strong muscles. His fingers find your clit and you cry out, burying your face in his neck. Ken circles the pads of his fingers against your cunt as you gasp and whine and beg.
âCome on, baby. You take me so well. Let me hear you cum for me,â Kendall pleads.
You fall apart around his cock, head thrown back and moans echoing off the ceiling. The noises coming out of your mouth are unrecognizable to you, but the ecstasy you feel overshadows any embarrassment you might have had.
âI canât stop, fuâ fuck, I canâtââ Kendall cries out, sounding so pitiful (and erotic) as he cums inside you. He moans, whimpers, performs a monologue about how perfect, beautiful, amazing you are. You both take a moment to catch your breath, Ken still inside you.
Kendall is the first to speak, âSo, uh⊠you think we have something?â
#kendall roy smut#kendall roy#kendall roy x reader#kendall roy/reader#kendall roy fanfic#kendall roy x you#succession#succession smut#kendall roy fic#succession fanfic
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BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM [heâs a fictional character that doesnât exist]
IM HAVING HIS BABY [no Iâm not because heâs a fictional character]
#*singing* and thatâs what fanfiction is for#Eddie munson#din djarin#poe dameron#benedict bridgerton#Steve harrington#carmy berzatto#cooper howard#miguel ohara#x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#Loki#Steve Rogers#Bucky Barnes#duncan idaho#stewy hosseini#Kendall Roy#Sherlock holmes#rust cohle#Iâm just tagging everyone Iâve written fanfics for or will#â ïž#daemon targaryen#aegon targaryen#aemond targaryen
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Welcome to my Masterlist đ
hi, i'm murphy. my requests are always open - feel free to send any ideas or thoughts you have - i'll always read them all.
note - all of my fics are reader insert. no use of y/n. i don't write for real people, only characters <3
Last Updated - November 29th
â - over 1k notes
⯠- a series
Characters I Write For.
500 Follower Celebration Masterlist. 3k Celebration Masterlist. Valentines Masterlist. 5k Celebration Masterlist.
Moodboard Masterlist. My Ao3.
 âč ă â« ăă · ăă â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â” ă.ă ⊠* ă â ăă . â” ăăă
Top Gun: Maverick
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin
The Orange. â
You and Jake share an orange. He's in love with you.
For Eternity. (Part 2 of The Orange.)
You and Jake share an orange. He's never loved you more.
North Star. â
It's New Year's Eve. Jake is tired of waiting.
I Know Places.
Jake always joked that he'd kill for you. One fateful day, he does just that.
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin & Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw
Why Choose?
A drunken game of spin the bottle gets a little heated. Why choose, when you can have both?
Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia
Dr Cupid.
Mickey Garcia passes out in hospitals. Luckily, this time there's a pretty nurse there to catch him.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
Marvel
Bucky Barnes
Lessons in Love. â
Bucky didn't believe in love at first sight. Then he met you.
Honey Girl. âŻâ
The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.
Trick or Treat.
You love Halloween. Bucky loves you.
Rest Had Seemed The Sweetest Thing.
Bucky's slowly learning that love isn't a finite resource. aka, Bucky's first Christmas.
Stucky
Letters to the Moon.
Steve is gone. The love you and Bucky have for him isn't.
Wishbone.
You meet Bucky and Steve while on the run. The three of you quickly learn that nothing is more violent than love.
Frank Castle
There's Always Tomorrow.
Frank knows you better than you know yourself. It's a blessing and a curse.
Multi Talented. â
Frank shows you exactly what you deserve.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
Criminal Minds
Luke Alvez
Wherever You Are. That's Where Home Is.
Luke might be a mind reader. Only with you, though.
Vice. â
Everyone on the team has their vices. It just so happens that yours is sat across the table looking at you.
Spencer Reid
Web of Lies. âŻ
Spencer Reid has always been good at keeping secrets. You just never thought he'd keep one from you.
Cowboy!Spencer âŻ
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
Narcos
Javier Peña
Self Control. â
Javi keeps refusing himself what he wants. One night puts everything into perspective.
Yes, Mr President.
There's an endless amount of things you shouldn't do as the President of the United States. Defiling the Oval Office is definitely one of them.
Western Nights. âŻ
You don't expect to bump into your dad's best friend Javier in a church basement on the outskirts of town. You also didn't expect to fall in love with him. Life seems to be full of surprises - and Javier was the biggest surprise of all.
Jealousy, Jealousy. â
Javier Peña doesn't share.
Two Murphy's and a Peña.
Javier knows Steve's sister is off limits. He's never been one to follow the rules.
After Hours.
You and Javier are stuck in the office in the middle of a heatwave. You're hot in more ways than one.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
Triple Frontier
Time. â
You get shot in Colombia. Frankie, Benny, Santiago and Will each have their own ways of helping you heal.
Tethered. â
The lines of friendship blur when youâre this close. Also known as - each of the times youâve kissed Benny, Frankie, Santiago and Will.
Tranquility.
You're not good at keeping secrets from the boys. Turns out, Will isn't either.
Home Is Where The Heart Is.
They say home is where the heart is. Your heart belongs to the four boys you call your best friends. Also known as - four important times the guys told you they loved you.
Will Miller
Champagne Fuelled Confessions.
You come home drunk, and have something burning you need to tell Will.
Best Friend's Brother.
You've known Benny for years. You've had a crush on his brother Will for years, too.
Frankie Morales
Find You.
A bad date brings Frankie Morales to your door at the perfect time.
Rain Soaked Romantic.
Frankie will run across town in the rain if it means finally telling you how he feels.
Santiago Garcia
This Is The Way It Always Goes.
Santiago always comes crawling back. You convince yourself this is the last time - but you both know that's not true.
Precious Girl.
A chance meeting with your Dad's best friend at 2am.
Benny Miller
Adrenaline.
Ben needs a way to work off his post match energy. You.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
The Last of Us
Joel Miller
Pretty When You Cry. â
Joel realises his morals are fucked. You realise you like it.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
Succession
Stewy Hosseini
Clandestine. âŻ
You and Stewy know it's wrong. So why, pray tell, does it feel so right?
Fully Clothed.
Being Stewy's assistant has its perks.
Consequence.
Stewy's actions have unexpected consequences.
Needy.
You've been waiting all day for Stewy to get home. He loves it.
Play Pretend.
The classic fake dating trope, with a twist.
The Place Where It All Began.
You reunite with Stewy at your high school reunion. Turns out, he's been waiting for you, all this time.
Risky.
The thrill of being caught makes it all the more exciting.
Kendall Roy
Me and You.
You quit as Kendall's assistant. He's been waiting for this day.
Illicit Affair.
You're Matssons wife. You're also in love with Kendall Roy.
Forced Proximity.
The classic only one bed trope, this time with your emotionally unavailable boss.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
The Bear
Carmen Berzatto
The Roommate Collection. âŻâ
A collection of fics based on being roommates with Carmen.
Vienna.âŻ
Everything is the same. Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. Nothing is the same.
Carmen. â
Carmen. Your Carmen.
Denial. â
Carmy canât keep pretending.
Mechanic!Carmen.
Inspired by that picture of JAW in a crop top.
Perfectionist. â
Your boyfriend being a professional chef has its perks. Especially when it comes to gingerbread houses.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
9-1-1
Evan Buckley
Lightning Strike. â
The two of you deal with the aftermath of Bucks trauma.
Fire Hazard. â
The story of your firehouse nickname - and Buck unable to handle you in a sundress.
That Old Cliche. â
You swore youâd never give in to the best man and maid of honour cliche. And then you met Evan Buckley.
Evan Buckley & Eddie Diaz
The Look of Love. â
You, Buck and Eddie are absolutely, undeniably, head over heels in love with each other. It seems like everyone can see it except for the three of you.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
Sons of Anarchy
Jax Teller
Heatwave. â
You cut Jax's hair. He can't keep his hands to himself.
Sundress Season. â
Itâs sundress season. Jax canât keep his hands to himself (again).
Filip 'Chibs' Telford
Teach Me How to Ride. â
Chibs is teaching you how to ride (in more ways than one).
Handled.
You and Chibs have been walking the line for a little too long.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
Challengers
Two Can Play That Game.
Youâre cheating on Patrick. Youâre not proud of it, but it just⊠happened. Patrickâs cheating on you, too. He never meant for it to happen, but it just⊠did. Imagine the surprise from both of you when you find out that Art Donaldson is caught up right in the middle.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
Steve Harrington
Cherry. âŻâ
The lines of friendship get a little blurry, one unassuming Friday night in December.
Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue.
An engagement party, your childhood best friend, one too many glasses of champagne. What could go wrong?
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
Rivals
Declan OâHara
Forbidden Fruit.
Thatâs the thing about Declan - he always gets what he wants. It might be wrong⊠but it feels so right.
Shut Up and Drive.
Itâs a funny thing, isnât it? The one person who riles you up the most is also the only person that can calm you down.
Rupert Campbell Black
February Sky.
The highs are so high, but the lows are so low.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
#masterlist#jake seresin x reader#stucky x reader#luke alvez x reader#spencer reid x reader#steve rogers x reader#bucky barnes x reader#Triple frontier x reader#stewy hosseini x reader#will miller x reader#frankie morales x reader#santiago garcia x reader#javier peña x reader#frank castle x reader#jax teller x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#evan buckley x reader#kendall roy x reader#joel miller x reader#steve harrington x reader
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Desperate to Please
Pairing: Kendall Roy x f (afab) reader Part 2 (To Sit in Hell with You) Word count: 4.3K Warning: 18+ MDNI interact, my attempt at sexual tension, smut, language warning, a couple of references to canonical-esque drug use and toxic Roy family dynamics, bit of angst I guess? Not proof-read and run on sentences. Reader has no physical descriptions, it's you! A/N: HAPPY SUCCESSION SUNDAY! I hope you all enjoy this Kendall brainrot, I was a bit scared as this was my first time writing a Kendall fic, I'd only written him in Stewy x Roy reader fics before. I hope you all enjoy this! Big thank you to @waystarkia and @maraschinodreamo for enabling this! You're amazing besties, I adore you and I needed your support, big forehead kisses! Comments and reblogs are appreciated 𫶠My last few fics have been big flops so extra nervous!
You remember when he glided through the corridors of Harvard. How every party you went to and that you had a pit of dread in your stomach over as it couldâve been three hours devoted to rereading the assigned readings and going over your notes. He was there, always there, laughing with a giggling, intimate crowd and snorting powdered lines off any and every surface.Â
It gave you a bitter, metallic taste in your mouth. How easy it was for him, how even when he flew too close to the sun there were always a million doors open for him, you couldnât help but feel envious of that.Â
When you needed to maintain a certain GPA for your scholarships, had to wear sweaters down to the last thread, keep up with the readings, the extracurriculars, any internships, anything and everything to get your foot in the door. It was miserable and intense.Â
While there was something alluring in how much of a window to his soul those brown eyes were, you didnât have time to look in them long enough to see a world of emotional turmoil and toxic family dynamics.Â
He didnât say much about his family, ever. And when he did, it was dismissive, deflective, perfectly media trained, heâd speak just like a politician heâd deflect the question and never satisfy the questioner. To the point that if you were in a bad mood, youâd wonder if even his pauses of âuhâ and âlikeâ were calculated.Â
There was a collection of the finest, custom-tailored suits with his killer initials monogrammed, just waiting for him to slip them on. You werenât old money and you definitely werenât new money, your academic and professional career had been a never ending fight just to get a seat at the table. You couldnât stand it, you would bite your tongue whenever you became nauseated from being in a room too long that reeked of the nepotism cologne they all assaulted your senses with. It was a slap against your face.
If he wasnât so entitled, when you first met him you mightâve swooned over him, you wouldâve swooned over him. Without a doubt. It just wasnât a fun thing to admit to yourself, not back then and not now.Â
Youâd climbed a ladder, working hard, offering a polite but intelligent demeanour with a meticulous academic record and a work ethic that gave capitalism a boner. It had all led to a pretty sweet (enormously stressful) gig at Pierce Global Media. It made sense, youâd spend your college days side-eyeing him whenever he spoke or did anything at a party, racing a race he didnât even know he was running in. Of course youâd end up working at his familyâs competition. The politics of PGM also made it a lot easier to sleep at night, you could never imagine working at Waystar, ATN made you gag.Â
You had a nice wardrobe and the bank account to prove âsuccessâ, you might've been petty but you still felt resentment over him, even if the trajectory of his life wasn't so smooth. But you were too busy to keep track of the countless edits on his Wikipedia page. He probably had assistants continuously rectify them. Â
You didn't spare a thought to Kendall Roy or the suits walking in and out of country clubs. Except for when he was name dropped in PGM articles and broadcasts. That was all he was worth. It was all youâd allow him to be worth in your post-college, shiny grown up lives.Â
And of course at moments like right now, when youâre on the clock and have to smile through the torture of corporate events like the heavily photographed and stressful galas and award shows. Fundraisers that are an excuse for sealing secret deals, getting wasted and showing off who was able to get the finest threads.Â
Kendall was present of course, playing his usual role of the charming dancing monkey barely maintaining his fatherâs approval.Â
He stood across the room, wearing a dark suit, freshly shaven while holding a thin, fragile glass in his hand. Kendall smiled as he mingled and networked like the trained pup he was, it was his party trick after a lifetime of these endless events and shallow faces.Â
You went to bite your lip as you looked at him while a PGM comms employee spoke to you. It was only the thought of messing up your lipstick that stopped you.Â
Kendall Roy was hot though, despite everything youâd have to give him that at the least. Begrudgingly.Â
After going to the restroom and making sure you still looked perfectly presentable, you couldnât help but still feel out of place at these events. No matter how much you climbed up the ladder, it was a severe case of imposter syndrome.Â
Youâd come out of the restroom and almost bumped into Kendall. âOh shit!â You said, gasping as you placed a hand on your chest.Â
He placed a hand on your arm to steady you, as if you were at risk of falling over. His touch burned you and it sent a shiver up your spine. âYou okay?â He asked as his eyes raked over you, checking you were okay and then slowly taking in the view from head to toe. âYeah, yeah, just gave me a fright. Sorry.â You respond, meeting his eyes as he looks back at your face.Â
His hand is still on your arm, you can feel the heat of it radiating through to the rest of your body, and it is doing something to the most sensitive parts of you.Â
You move slightly so that his hand falls down and he quickly returns it to his side and you pretend to adjust your dress as if you hadnât been doing that two minutes ago in the bathroom. You try to avoid his eyes as you do this, you donât want him to get the chance to see how that touch made you feel, the idea of it makes you feel sick to your stomach. âI didnât expect to see you here, thought youâd be worried about some uh, kitchen cross-contamination.â He says as his eyes focus on your face. âI am, thereâs a bottle of Purell in my purse and I have a bathtub filled with disinfectant waiting for me at home.â You quip back.Â
âUh huh, so pick your poison? Buried alive or in a conversation with a scary billionaire.â He raises an eyebrow as a slightly smug smile starts to grace his handsome face.Â
âBuried alive.â You look into his eyes, and you almost want to melt with how heâs looking at you, as if he can read your mind and see everything. Giving you his full attention. âWorms would be easier company.â Kendallâs head tips down for a moment and he nods while chuckling, itâs a dry sound and you fight the urge to pick at your nails as you watch him chuckle. âSure, sure, sure. I mean you did say easier instead of like, better. So my egoâs not completely bruised.â He says with a smirk as he looks down at his shoes.Â
âI hear verbal punches arenât doing it these days.â You say as you watch him, his gaze leaves the floor as it combs through you again, taking in your appearance appreciatively and a glint of something else burns in his eyes for a moment. âThereâs other ways to impact an ego. I know you can do more than bruise it.â He says quietly in a low voice made just for your ears.Â
You almost freeze at that, you can feel it run through your whole body, shooting through your spine and the air youâd just inhaled feels trapped. Screaming for a way out. You exhale slowly, avoiding his gaze as your eyes latch onto a waiter and you politely stop him as you take a tall glass off of the platter heâs holding. The taste is a sensory respite from Kendall's existence and you focus on that as you take a sip and hold the glass for dear life.Â
âWhat? I drive you, speechless?â He teases as he watches you with a smirk, thereâs a slight flush on his cheeks.Â
âIâd disagree.â You whisper looking back at him finally, feeling a little more composed despite your heart still beating faster than a rabbit.Â
âYouâre not chatty for an old Harvard friend, never have been.â He says as if this observation is something new and fascinating.Â
âAn old Harvard friend? My invitation to the boys club seemed to have been lost in the mail, quite a delay, you might want to change your postal provider.â You quickly retort and sip your drink.Â
âHave you always felt the need to be soâŠâ He waves his hand slightly as if thatâll perfectly communicate whatever adjective he means. You raise an eyebrow at him. âWell I seem to leave a bitter taste in your mouth.âÂ
âYou donât leave anything in my mouth, youâre not even an afterthought on a good day.â You say, he smiles and takes a sip from his glass.Â
âYouâre breaking my heart here!â He says playfully, melodramatically and his smile grows into a wolfish grin. âBecause thereâs definitely an attraction here.âÂ
âExcuse me?â Your voice goes up in exasperation at the audacity of the man standing in front of you. Sure he might be right, of course youâre attracted to him⊠How could you not be? When that suit perfectly fits his physique and heâs trying to disarm you with his stupid words and cocky smiles.Â
âCome on, itâs fucking uh, nuclear- itâs nuclear! All this energy and potentially more sustainable for- you catch my drift. I feel it, you feel it. And Iâm the goddamn man and I can see that facade falling, crumbling away like ancient ruins for something better.â He says confidently and somewhat excitedly.Â
âI donât feel it.â You lie.Â
He scoffs, chuckling and looks at you, he licks his lips for a moment and you almost let out a soft moan at the sight of that, barely able to suppress it and you want to scream at yourself. Youâre crumbling.Â
âSure, sure, canât bed the big bad wolf on the screaming populist side, wouldnât look clean cut, would it?â He asks and you just look at him, you try to keep your face steely and not show a glimpse of anything else. âSure fine, Iâll fucking play ball, baby.âÂ
âItâs corporate.â He says with a casual shrug as if that answers whatever conundrum he thinks youâre possibly in that you donât want to enlighten him on. âSo, come on, Iâll uh, strip down to my Waystar Royco âą skivvies, show you a gilded skeleton in my closet and you can like uh, take me to the glue factory and show me a horse thatâs been sold and how the horse gets melted, sausage gets made.â He tilts his head to look at you, a playful smile as he looks at your soft lips.Â
âThereâs legislation- regulations against that now. I know it might be a new word for you but you should have your assistant look it up for you.â You say with a sigh and look down at your glass, avoiding the glint of an awkward charm in his eyes.Â
âIâm a good guy, Iâm not 100% whatever the fuck youâve painted me out to be, I donât get a hard on out of systemic oppression.â He says casually as he looks at your face, analysing each blink, he mustâve stepped closer, you swear you can feel his breath against you as he speaks.Â
âIt benefits you at the least.â You whisper.Â
âYeah, it does. But I didnât make the system.â He whispers back and you canât help but bite the corner of your lip as the breath from his words tickles your cheek. âI made a very generous donation to gynaecological cancer last month.â He says playfully and you canât help but scoff at that, he smiles widely at your scoff, pleased with your reaction.Â
âIâm aware, it was reported on, by PGM as well.â You tease and he smiles.Â
âIâm something of a philanthropist myself.â He chuckles proudly. âSo?âÂ
âSo?â You ask looking at him, taking in the way he holds his glass, the arch of his dark eyebrows and every line on his face. âThatâs your stage direction to start uh swooning and like fawning and fainting into my arms.âÂ
âDo those lines work usually?â You ask with a tone of disbelief.Â
âIâm Kendall Roy, I donât need lines.â He immediately quips back with a cocky tone.Â
âDoesnât use lines, right⊠I didnât realise Kendall Roy ever needed to beg.â You watch his finger trace the rim of the glass in his hand. Thereâs something about it, it entrances you and you feel your cheeks heat up like heâs just started a fire.Â
âTrust me, youâd know if I was begging.â He says as that signature slight smile turns into a confident smirk. âAnd weâre not there, yet.âÂ
It feels dangerous and your muscles tense as you look at him, his dark eyes have a playful glint that sends a shiver up your spine. You feel your hand grip the glass much tighter, as if youâre moments away from cracking it.Â
âCome on, Iâm a hot shot- in fact, the hot shot, and youâre uh, Botticelliâs Venus here-â he tilts his head down and waves his hand slightly. âDressed to the nines and all.âÂ
âMm, going above and beyond, not just numbers and stock value, you know art too.âÂ
âOh yeah, I can uh name it all, namedrop beyond DaVinci, I can rattle off about uh, Mondrian with his little lines, youâve probably got what? A Pollock in your apartment, to what? Feels a little spontaneous when you clock off? Classy and cute Hilma af Klint?â He asks with a raised eyebrow and sips his drink as his eyes bore into your soul.Â
You tilt your head to look at him, watching him as he sips from that flute. Thereâs cockiness there and under other circumstances, youâd be disappointed in yourself for how quickly that melts away any hesitancies you have. He knows what heâs doing and you know what youâre going to do. Youâre both nocturnal moths, feeling alive and awake this evening, craving something more. Needing something more. Two moths drawn to the exact flame.Â
Youâre in his penthouse, his stupid fancy penthouse that would make child you scream if you knew how much this place cost. You donât care about that right now, right now youâre a pot on a stove simmering with years, years, worth of need for him and itâs about to overflow and spill.Â
As soon as youâre inside he pounces on you, heâs eager and his body is agile and he moves like a feline. Quickly pawing you to get what he needs. What you both need. You donât bother to try and repress any of your noises and neither does he.Â
You put your hands up to his head to lightly scratch his scalp, he buries his head against your throat and groans out as you do and you feel his wet lips press hungrily against your throat. He sucks against your skin and you whine out as he keeps kissing, feeling your sensitive skin in his journey to not leave an inch of skin untouched.Â
Kendall guides you to the sofa as he does this, he does it with surprising ease as he keeps listening to the beautiful music of his wet kisses against you and your sweet moans. Kendall gently but firmly pushes you down onto the sofa and you let out a gasp as he does.Â
Once you're seated and sprawled out for him like a personal masterpiece, he pushes the hem of the skirt of your dress up to your hips, Kendall immediately drops to his knees in front of you, ready in position to worship you as you deserve. Kendall spreads your legs with a swift motion and groans as he positions himself, knelt down between your thighs. Ken breathes heavily and slowly, completely mesmerised and his heart beats louder than thunder in his ears. God, he needs this. God, he needs you. So fucking badly.
His hand touches your knee and runs up your thigh, his eyes are wide as he looks at your body reverently, lust sparks in his eyes. His thumb starts to brush against your inner thigh gently and you sharply inhale as you watch him.Â
âI know what you think and I⊠I get it,â he breathes out heavily as he looks up at you with lust-blown but genuine big, wide eyes and you feel your own breath become more shaky as you look down at him. âIt wasnât all fucking sunshine and lollipops and feeding fucking ducks bread in the park, you know?â He says looking up at you.Â
Fingers grip your thighs tighter at that bringing out a sharp gasp, fear over the implication of his confession even with how vague it is, the lack of explicit over the pressure, the verbal and emotional abuse he endured as a defenceless child while board members watched and said nothing. How all the adults he knew would either laugh awkwardly or go quiet, dismissive, when Roman was hit. How he watched it all, saw things even Shiv and Roman donât remember. Things he canât speak or begin to imagine saying.Â
âHeâs this boogeyman legend, the GOAT of media but a fucking mythical ghoul in all of our rooms.â He whispers, desperate for some external validation, you nod and caress his hair slowly, taking in his words patiently as he speaks. âIt was this psychological prison, each mansion, penthouse, five star emotional abuse, make fucking Gordon Ramsay cry, one that everyone wanted to walk into and not comprehend the uh, consequences.âÂ
You just nod and listen, youâre not sure what to say, especially what to say to his words in this situation. But thereâs a change in his eyes that he sees. He feels safe here, he feels safe and seen as he kneels and worships at the altar of his deity of beauty.Â
His fingers apply more pressure as he touches your thighs, he needs you, he knows in his brain and his heart that youâre what will make him feel better right now. Every muscle, organ and bone knows it, especially the one growing and hardening in his pants right now. The feeling of his fingers tickle and you watch him lazily, his touch feels good and thereâs something about him doing it, the way he looks at you, like your some masterpiece that should be front and centre of the Louvre.Â
Kendall presses a kiss to your thigh, you let out a shaky breath you didnât realise you were holding in as you feel his warm breath against your sensitive skin. You close your eyes and take a deep breath as he quickly runs a trail of kisses up your thigh before getting to your core.Â
He immediately presses his face against your core, your eyes widen as you feel him, you feel his mouth on you even with the fabric of your underwear creating a barrier between you two. Itâs a new feeling as you feel him kiss and then lick your sweet pussy through your panties. They quickly become wet with his tongue frantically moving and your arousal leaking out.Â
A soft whimper leaves your mouth at the feeling, the friction and how good his mouth feels even with that barrier. He keeps moving at that frantic pace, his left hand grips your thigh, keeping it pinned to the couch and massaging the soft flesh while his other slowly snakes up your body so he can squeeze your breast and pull out another delicious whimper.Â
The sounds youâre making makes him harder and he groans against you, the vibration of that makes you throw your head back and whimper again. You need more. Itâs so hot to have him in this way, to have him so desperate for you heâll try to lap you up through your panties but you need to properly feel him. You try to buck your hips up to get him closer, you need him.Â
He continues and groans at that, he shakes his head against you and swirls his sweet tongue around and you cry out.Â
âI need- Ken, Ken! Please!â You cry out needily. âI can already taste how sweet you are through your soaked panties, baby.â He whispers as he pulls back slightly.Â
âTake them offâŠâ You whisper as you look into his lust-blown eyes, theyâre just as needy if not more than yours.Â
He immediately takes them off and you whine out as he does, his hands are quick and efficient. Before you can even blink Kendall has dived right back in, determined to taste you right from the source with nothing in his way.Â
Kenâs wanted this for so long, heâs needed it for so long.Â
Kendall doesnât worry about trying to warm you up, itâs not even a thought that crosses his mind. His mouth runs along your folds, and before you know it heâs pressed his face to you even more and he starts to lap you up. His eyes roll back and he closes them, whining against you as he laps up your fluids and uses his tongue to send you to heaven.Â
His vibrations make you bite your lip and you buck your hips up again, one arm stretched out to the armrest of the sofa and you claw it mercilessly, just as he laps you up. Kendall then tilts his head slightly and groans, he lightly presses his nose against your sensitive bundle of nerves and you cry out, the loudest you ever have.Â
Your eyes widen and you look down at him as you moan loudly and he continues. He keeps licking you up and moving his nose against you. While youâre clawing the armrest, your back arches and you try to press yourself more into his touch needing more, itâs insanely and perfectly wanton. Moving your freehand into his short dark hair, you tug on it. You barely need to tug it to guide him as he moves perfectly and is giving you the greatest pleasure youâve ever felt before.Â
Kendall continues, drowning in your juices and making sure not a single drop is wasted. Heâs tasted it now and itâs amazing, life changing, how could he sit before you and waste a drop? He savours your scent and taste as tongue licks you and his nose keeps moving and applying the perfect amount of pressure to your now throbbing clitoris.Â
His movements are desperate and that of a starved man. You can see it, feel it and itâs what he is. Heâs a starved man and youâre his perfect banquet. He continues, needing to make you orgasm. Heâs drowning in you, his mouth and nose but he wouldnât have it any other way. He takes a deep breath and his hand moves along your thigh, squeezing it and he grips your hip tightly.Â
Youâre getting closer and closer just from that clitoral stimulation and he can tell, he moves his face up so he can look at you. See how pleasure is painted across your face, he moves so his tongue laps up at your clitoris, swirling around it and making you shake and moan. Fuck, you look so pretty he thinks and you canât help but think how good he looks like this, down on his knees in front of you, with his tongue buried between your legs.Â
Kendall continues and you moan more. Youâre not sure how long itâs been, he hasnât been between your legs long enough, you know that for sure. You need him there longer but you know youâre just a flick of his tongue away from being pushed over the cliff and orgasming then and there. You tug on his hair and groan.Â
âGoddamnit, Iâm so closeâŠâ You whine out and bite your lip as your cheeks heat up more and he smiles against you, caressing your thigh and he continues licking. After the shortest five seconds in the world you pant and your back arches as you release.Â
The taste is sweet and perfect, just as Kendall knew it would be. He groans against you, it turns him on so much. He continues to lap it up, just slower now, so he doesnât overwhelm you too much and so he can savour each drop of your release.Â
You moan as he continues, he keeps his face buried between your legs for a moment, caressing your thighs and when he can tell your breathing has recovered a little. He dives right back in.Â
Making you come? That was something he needed to do. Only doing it once? That was pathetic. Kendall needed to hear those moans from you, to taste you, at least a few more times tonight. And thatâs what he was going to do.Â
Before you can utter a word, Kendall has already started to lap you up again desperately. He had something to prove after all, he always had something to prove. And if he could pull the sweetest noises out of you, the prettiest thing he's seen, who had despised him since college, what couldn't he do? What more approval could he be denied when you gripped his hair and bucked your hips up desperately searching for more pressure from his tongue. He had made himself right at home in this position, how couldnât he?
#kendall roy#kendall roy x reader#kendall roy x you#kendall roy x f reade#kendall roy x fem reader#kendall roy fic#kendall roy fanfiction#kendall roy imagine#kendall roy fanfic#kendall roy smut#kendall roy angst#succession fic#succession imagine#succession hbo#succession fanfic#succession fanfiction#succession#hbo succession#chaithetics#jeremy strong#jeremy strong fandom#jeremy strong characters#succession x reader
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Be honest with me (Roman Roy x reader)
Masterlist
word count: 1.1k
warnings: 18+, pure fluff and comfort, mentions of verbal abuse
a/n: Inactivity who? A rare update I know lol. Anyway yâall Iâm so in love with him - honestly in love with all the Roy siblings, but Romulus got a special place in my heart <3
I love how late I jump onto writing trends for characters, but in my defence I've had this in the drafts for MONTHS. Anyway, hope you enjoy my loves <3
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The apartment was silent, it felt too out of character, especially for Roman. The both of you lay in silence on his bed, still in today's clothes.
You move your hand slowly - scared that a sudden movement would cause him to suddenly get up and leave without warning. Tentatively, you inch your fingers onto his own - he said nothing, nor did he move. Gaining more confidence and desperate to comfort him knowing how loud his mind must be right now - you encapsulate his hand within your own. Theyâre soft and warm - Roman was always warm to touch. You feel his hand squeeze your own back - still no words being said.
You take a deep breath, feeling the need to break the silence finally, but before you can, Roman cuts you off.
âPlease donât,â his voice came out weak - he was usually so quick wittedâŠhe just sounded tired.
âOkay,â your voice was soft - a complete dichotomy to the tone he was used to from his father and siblings.
Another 30 minutes went by in complete silence - the both of your steady breaths being the only thing heard. Your hand still lay in his - he hadn't moved an inch unless it was to gently squeeze your hand every so often.
You turn on your side, slipping your hand out of his - he still didn't move. You decided to move closer to him, laying your head on his shoulder and draping your right arm across his chest that rose up and down with each breath he took.
You studied his face - he looked like he wanted to push you off of him, and yet simultaneously he was aching to pull you closer to him. Your touch was the only touch he felt safe feeling - you'd never hurt him, and he never doubted that thought for a second, but he was just so used to being alone and pushing people away.
You were desperate to hear his voice, to understand what was running through his head. You knew he was probably going to say some stupid quip to hide how he really felt, but you'd see straight through him; he knew this and it was the scariest thing to him - that you actually saw him.
"Ro...," you were gentle - a part of him just wanted you to shout at him and tell him he was a waste of space just like his father had - it was all he knew. However, you were just too kind, you actually cared for him, and not in the way his father cared for him - if you could call it that - but in a way that was so genuine and pure that it felt wrong to him, but he craved every second of it.
His gaze moved from the ceiling to your worried face - you looked beautiful he thought, he had always thought you were the most beautiful person he knew. "Yeah," his voice sounded small and tired.
"Are you okay?" the question was stupid, you knew he wasn't, but you wondered if he'd answer you honestly - if for once he'd be vulnerable with you, and truly let you into what was going through his mind.
"What? Pfft yeah I'm fine, real fucking good...just thinking about who has bigger tits - you or Gerri...I think Gerri does," there it was...he couldn't be honest with you for a minute if he tried - he'd rather say some crude shit and hope you'd be weirded out enough like everyone else and just leave him so he could avoid sharing his emotions.
You sat up, leaning on one hand as you stared down at him while he tried to avoid your gaze which was slowly glazing over with unshed tears. "Roman...please I-...can you just be honest with me?" your voice had a slight shake - scared that you were going to push him over the edge and he'd run.
He made eye contact with you, his heart clenching in his chest, no one had made him feel the way you could make him feel, and that scared him. He didn't know what to do - his mind was screaming so many things at him all at once that he couldn't really make a decision, so he stayed silent.
Several minutes passed of you both just holding each other's gaze then he opened his mouth tentatively, "Why do you care about me? Why can't you just call me a freak or a perv and leave?" You watched as his eyes reddened and glazed over as he tried his hardest not to cry in front of you. Had you cracked him? It felt bittersweet that he might finally just be honest with you, but the pain in his eyes was tearing at your heart.
You smiled, giggling softly as you lifted a hand to his cheek and wiped away a singular tear that had managed to fall, watching as he turned his face to meet your caress - he trusted you. "Because I fucking love you Roman".
"But why?" he interrupted you like a child would trying to understand such a foreign concept that you were trying to explain.
"There's no reason - I mean there is, you're...you. I love you Roman." You were so soft with him, it felt alien to him. It broke you that he couldn't fathom the concept of someone genuinely loving him, and in such a pure way too. This love wasn't like the love from his father, nor from his siblings - it was something so foreign that he couldn't understand it, but he liked it...he liked this.
You laid back down beside him, "Come here Ro...please" your eyes had such a soft stare - they were so warm and inviting, he couldn't object to the embrace you were offering him.
Roman inched across the bed over into your arms, wrapping his arm around your waist and burying his face in your chest, while you wrapped an arm around his back, holding him close to you. You fell into a comfortable silence, holding each other without a care in the world - it was just the both of you.
"I love you too, you know?" he muttered it so quietly that it almost went unheard, but a smile spread across your face at his confession. You knew that he had probably been having an internal argument with himself on whether or not he was actually going to say it to you; without any sarcasm too.
You felt your heart fluttering in your chest and you pulled him closer to you, "Yeah I know". You tilted your head down slightly and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head. He went to open his mouth to say some sarky comment, but immediately shut it - he didn't need to feel defensive around you, not now, and not ever.
#fluff#fem reader#sucession#roman roy x reader#roman roy#roman roy fluff#roman roy imagine#roman roy x you#succession x reader#comfort#fanfic#succession roman#logan roy#shiv roy#kendall roy#gregory hirsch#tom wambsgans
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Skyglow
pairing: kendall roy/reader
summary: âI want you to take care of me.â That makes him ache. Fills him with that heavy, hot feeling- the one you get when somethingâs a little wrong.
words: 1787
tags: explicit, sickfic, daddy kink, praise kink, but also a little degradation kink, pwp, established relationship, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, playful sex, like the tiniest bit of fluff, implied age gap, there's really nothing that establishes when this is so
a/n: I started writing this when I was sick a few weeks ago and I thought I'd finish it. It's just for fun. It's a little silly. It doesn't all have to be serious or good.
It always felt like a waste, to stay in bed all day. Somehow scrolling through your phone in the living room seemed more productive than if you did it in bed. You barely even had the energy to do that. Left thinking. Wanting. Always find your mind wandering to him and what he can do for you. A warm, soft place to rest your hands. Press your lips against.
A deep voice to coax you through what his cock brings out of youâÂ
But the exhaustion was bone-deep. Bending a finger, lifting an eyelid- both felt nearly impossible. Even while lying down you felt weak, like you couldnât get deep enough into the pillow, into the mattress. You needed to pool and bubble out; water spilled on the counter.Â
The door opening wakes you from what mustâve been the fifth nap of the day. You were in a guest room- you didnât want to get Kendall sick. He had shit to do, things that were âunmissable.âÂ
Itâs dark. You can see out of the window from the bed; the sky is blue-black, a yellow edge on the horizon that fades up into it. Planes blink red and white across it. Only some of the windows in the other buildings are lit, and you wonder how late it really is. It's quiet; you can hear the AC running. The apartment is thrumming with a sleepy energy, like the way voices sound when youâre dozing off- blurred and smoothed at the edges.
âCan I, uh, can I sleep with you?â
You mumble that he can, voice croaky and gone. Scooting further in on the bed to make room for him- every joint aching so badly you almost whimper. He wraps his arm around you, kisses the back of your neck, and breathes. The heat on your skin makes you melt.Â
âI couldnât sleep without you in there with me.â
He brings you a little closer, for emphasis.
âIâd like to say the same, but Iâm exhausted.â
A little huff of air from him, an affectionate smile you canât see. Another kiss, right along your hairline.Â
You both lay there for a while, but you donât fall back asleep. The thoughts are much worse when heâs flush against you, firm thighs and a softer chest. His arms around you- you want him to use them to pull you down over him.Â
âWhy arenât you sleeping? You said youâre tired.â He sounds groggy, as if maybe heâd fallen asleep, for just a second.Â
âI know I was just- I was thinking of this,â you giggle a little, âof this tweet. Where this guy said that pussy, when someone has a fever, is crazy because itâs so hot.â
He grins so wide it hurts his face.
âIs this your way of, uh, telling me you want me to fuck you?â
âI mean- we gotta at least find out for ourselves.â
Kendall slips his hand beneath the waistband of your pajamas, uses the pads of his fingers to guide your leg up, to drape over his leg. Heâs surprised to find you so wet, skin scorching against his. Wonders how long you were thinking about it. Rubs your clit slowly, and youâre practically boneless already. But then fingertips work down, towards your cunt, and you tense in anticipation. He knows youâre sick; he should be nice. But he canât help but tease, doing it a few times until you whine his name.Â
âYou need it that bad?â
âPlease-Â â you sound kind of annoyed, as if his denial doesnât warm you.
His clothes are moved just enough, but he grips the waistband of your pants to yank them down as far as he can from his position- he wants to get at you fully. They get stuck above your knees, and you huff and whine as you kick them free clumsily. Kendallâs undeterred, puts you back where you were. Presses in easily, and maybe they were right. Your groan is distant in his ears. When heâs seated fully, he rests his forehead against your shoulder.
âWell?â
âIt- it is hotter. It could be, uh-,â he makes a muffled sound, like heâs steadying himself, âbe in my head, though. Placebo effect, or something.â
You canât help but laugh a little, the noise scraping out of you so badly he almost couldnât tell what it was.
âYouâre ridiculous. Youâve been asleep all day, I come in to sleep with you and you want me to fuck you.â
âI want you to take care of me.â
That makes him fucking ache. Fills him with that heavy, hot feeling- the one you get when somethingâs a little wrong. He places a big hand on the back of your thigh, slides it up to lift your ass cheek, spread you open.Â
âLike, a daddy thing, or-?â
OhâŠÂ man.
âI donât know if we- if we have to be so- if we need to go quite that far.â
As soon as you say it youâre prepared to recant. It makes your stomach fill with butterflies and warmth but it seems so much more taboo than other things that people would actually consider worse. So heavily stigmatized, something everyone knew about and mocked. His teeth press into your shoulder, like heâs squeezing it out of you.Â
âWell- it does sound⊠kind of hot. Maybe we ease into it? Maybe âdaddyâ doesnât have to be said, but implied?â
His hand slips over your hip to rest on your lower stomach, a slow pull and push of his hips as his fingers find your clit again. Not wasting any time.
âYou want me to âtake careâ of you?â
Plush lips slide beneath your ear as he speaks, and every inflection and hard consonant fills you with heat. Itâs your words, but from his mouth, it sounds good and perfect and right. His voice is soothing in this condescending way and it makes your lashes flutter.
âYes, Kendall.â
He uses his palm against your pubic bone to pull you close, allow him to get deeper, fuck a little rougher. Insistent. You reach behind you to grab at his waist, fingers fisting in the soft fabric of his t-shirt. Your voice is fucked- every moan and whimper is broken and raspy and quiet. He kind of likes it, drags his lips over your neck, laughing affectionately when his finger presses harder, rubs at just the right angle, against just the right side and you cry out hoarsely. Barely able to keep your eyes open before but you want him so fucking bad.Â
Itâs like youâre next to a fire; you can practically see a red glow coming from your skin, penetrating your closed eyelids. Youâre limp, melted into the smooth sheets, rolling weakly against him when you really need it. His brows pinch and his jaw falls open with a desperate noise before his lip is tucked beneath his teeth. Kendall props himself up on his elbow, fingers slipping into your hair, damp from sweat, turns your head enough to kiss you. So slack and pliant. You don't even think to stop him.Â
âDoes that feel better? Is this what you needed?âÂ
Jesus. Itâs as if your brain is already fried- youâre already gone. Making some noise thatâs probably the saddest attempt at an âmhmm,â ever been done. Trembling, pulled tighter, breathing ragged and uneven and burning in your chest and throat. He brushes the tip of his nose over your temple- his own breath puffs rapid and hot against you. Grunting when you grip even tighter.Â
When you cum, it's so good it hurts. Like massaging a sore muscle, or fingers into your cheeks when your sinuses ache. It seeps into your hips and belly and back and you lean into it, into him. He shushes you and you canât help but let out this startled â god .â You want to tell him he feels perfect, fucking perfect, but the words donât come out. His pace doesnât falter -no matter how snug and plush and slick you are around him- and it makes it seem like itâs lasting forever.Â
Kendall thinks itâs lasting forever; youâre over a cliffside, on the other end of a rope, trying to pull him down when he has to keep you up. He makes sounds like heâs struggling; when you finally relax, he sounds relieved.Â
Part of him wants to keep it up, and he canât help, for a second, seeing the new ease with which his fingers slip over you, pressing three flat against your labia to make you squirm from the sensitivity. But that doesnât last long, arm moving to wrap around your waist to hold you in place. Insistent.Â
Youâre awash with fatigue, fingers curling around the edge of your pillow, lids low over your eyes. Each time his hips meet your ass you make these pathetic little noises from the impact, sometimes barely even audible. He grabs your face again to turn you toward him- you feel hot, cheeks flushed to show it. Skin around your eyes, shiny, blueish, almost cartoonish. But you look up at him dutifully.
âYouâre so pretty when you take it for me.â
That reignites something in you, makes you moan and grab at him.
âSuch a pretty, perfect little girl deserves to feel good. Always desperate to cum on my cock- thinking about it when you can barely fucking think.â
You let out something between a gasp and a laugh, stunned. Thrown against the ledge but you canât go over until you get that little bit more.Â
âI- Ken, can you- would you-?â
This is how it always goes- just one more. Kendall gives it to you and goes to get his, but it always puts you right there, and he canât help but oblige. He wants to tell you to do it yourself, because youâre tired, and maybe you wonât get off and youâll get frustrated and whine. That makes him feel orange-hot and tingly, makes his hips stutter at the thought. But thatâs not what this was tonight. The wide pad of his middle finger is tight against you -swollen, slick- and even with how fast you cum, he cums faster, hips so rough against yours that you whimper and wince.
Heâs almost as light-headed as you are, almost as lax, weak. Every inch of you is unbearably heavy; it's like your skin could slough off your face. Itâs so good.
âI might bring a whole new, literal level to sleeping like the dead.â
Your voice cracks and you slump forward onto your stomach, keeping your face turned from him.
âAt least youâll feel better.â Smiling softly, rubbing your back.
âYouâll join me shortly, since you fucking kissed me.â
#kendall roy#kendall roy/reader#kendall roy x reader#succession hbo#succession fic#succession#reader insert#ig i'll make a masterlist or a tag for my fics or something tomorrow#my writing
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omg! kendall and Iâll be home soon. please!!!!
oops I made this a lil smutty. 18+ for safety
Kendall Roy x Reader
prompt: I'll be home soon.
It was late when your phone rang. You were curled on top of Kendallâs bed with the TV flickering silently. You didnât remember falling asleep.Â
You grabbed your phone, blearily looking at the name. Your heart leapt. It was Kendall.
âHey baby,â you said.
âHey,â came his familiar voice on the other end. âDid I wake you up?â
âCan you tell?â
âI can hear it in your voice.â
âItâs okay. Iâm so glad you called. Where are you?â
âAbout a mile above the Atlantic.â
You propped yourself up on pillows, leaning back against the headboard.
âHow did everything go?â
âGreat.â
âI donât believe you.â
âWell, I canât get into it now.â
âOh, I get it. Is your family around?â
âYeah. Exactly.â
âGod, Kendall. I missed you.â
âI missed you too. Weâre almost back.â
âHow soon?â
âAbout two hours.â
âShould I wait up for you?â
âAre you sure you wonât fall asleep again?â
You could hear the grin in his voice.Â
âIâll try not to.â
âWhat have you been doing while I was away?â
âThinking about you.â
âStop. Thatâs not all.â
âYouâre right. Thatâs not all.â
âTell me.â
âIâve been lying in our bed wishing there was someone here with me.â
âUh-huh. Who would that be?â
âYou, Kendall. Just you.â
âWhat else?â
âAt night I turn off all the lights. Then I take off my clothes and slide into our bed.â
âUh-huh.â
âItâs no good when youâre away. I need someone here to help me. I canât do it all myself.â
âWhat do you need me to do?â
âI need you to come here to me. I need you to put your hands on me. I need you to get high with me and stay up all night.â
âI can absolutely do that.â
âGood. Then get here faster. Iâm in bed now but I still have all my clothes on.â
âWell, maybe you should change that.â
âWhat should I take off first? Start from the top down?â
âYes.â
You put the phone on speaker and set it in the center of the bed. Then you lifted your shirt over your head and dropped it on the floor.
âIâm not wearing any underwear at all.â
âThatâs good.â
âIâm sliding off my pants. I wish you were here to do it for me.â
Your pants slid off the bed, onto the floor.
âDo you want me to touch myself?â you said into the phone.
âNot until I get there.â
âWell, too bad youâre not here to stop me.â
There was a long pause on the other end. You heard muffled movement. Then Kendallâs voice came through.
âEveryoneâs asleep,â he said. âI just stepped into the bathroom. Now listen to me closely.â
âIâm listening.â
âStay just like you are. Naked. In our bed. On top of the sheets. In two hours Iâm going to walk in the door. I might be a little high already. Iâm going to come in the bedroom and take off my shoes, my jacket, all my clothes. Then Iâm going to crawl over you and proceed to fuck you like I havenât seen you in three weeks. Then weâre going to do another bump and weâre going to fuck some more. And youâre going to wish you could go back to sleep but Iâm going to keep you up all night, Y/N. I hope youâre ready.â
âFuck, Kendall. Iâm so fucking ready.â
âYou better not be touching yourself."
âYouâre making it really fucking difficult.â
âIâll be home soon,â he said. âI promise. Then Iâll take care of you. Okay?â
âI know you will.â
âWait up for me.â
âAlways.â
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Obedient
Pairing âč Roman Roy x Fem! Reader
Synopsis âč After graduating college, you had a hard time finding anything. You were living paycheck to paycheck, until your old college roommate tried to help out with getting you an interview at her job, Waystar Royco. After a mix up, you find out that you were interviewing for Kendall's little brother, Roman. The more time you spent with him, you realized his whole facade of being the weird noisy arrogant douche was just to cover up really dark issues. But how much of it can you take til it just becomes way too much for you? You had your own stuff to deal with.
Notes âč I decided to finally start a series about Roman. There is not enough fan fictions about him. There's going to be talks about past traumas and unhealthy coping mechanisms. I plan on making the character have deep rooted trauma as well, but hiding it a lot better than Roman, not as well though. There will be triggers for past child abuse, implied (c)SA, mentions of EDs and some substance abuse. Regardless of the heavy tones, I hope you have fun reading. This is mostly a therapy writing thing.
.ă»ă.ă»ăâă».Playlist ă»â«ă»ăă»ă.
Chapters âč Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 3 , Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20
#succession#succession hbo#roman roy x you#roman roy x reader#roman roy fanfic#roman roy#hbo succession#kendall roy#tomshiv#shiv roy#siobhan roy#connor roy#logan roy#tom wambsgans#greg hirsch#fanfiction
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should we be expecting any kendall roy smut in the future? itâs dry out heređ©
Ooooo
...........
ooooooooooooo this got written in like ten minutes so if this isn't it i am sorry
Warnings: Power imbalance; unprotected sex; oral sex (female receiving); vaginal sex; quickie; begging reader; creampie
It's a damnable rush. He doesn't have much timeâhe rarely does. You'd known what the deal was as soon as you'd walked in to his office with every single shade lowered. It's conduct that you'd usually expect of Roman.
Your heart pounds in your chest as Kendall crowds you back against the desk. He sucks harshly at your neck, with no regard for the fact that you'll be on ATN's prime time news spot. You'll cover it with makeupâyou'll have to. The mark will only darken with time. You shiver as he raises a hand, gripping at the collar of your blouse and ripping downward roughly.
You gasp as your buttons fly and land dully against the carpeted floor.
"Kendallâ" It leaves you in a breathy groan, even as he lowers his head and dots the tops of your breasts with kisses. He doesn't answer; his hand works hurriedly at his own belt.
"Ken," You press, squirming back onto his desk. Before you can say or do another thing, he drops to his knees, shoving at your skirt and yanking down your underwear and panty hose. You reach down, resting your hand on the back of Kendall's head as he sucks at your cunt. You tighten your hand in his head, pushing against his lips and tongue as he laps at you almost desperately.
You shudder, pressing down against him, hips rabbiting as you chase the feeling. He draws back with a gasp, as if he didn't expect you to chase the sensation. His lips and chin are bright with your juices. You reach out as he leans in, gripping his tie and glancing down, watching him shove his pants down to his thighs. He takes himself in hand, teasing his cockhead along your slit.
"That's it," You urge, "That'sâOh," You breathe, letting your eyes slip closed, your head slipping back as he eases into you. He gives you a moment, burying his face in your head as your cunt flutters around the press and stretch of his cock.
You glance over his shoulder, eyeing the clock on the wall. 10:58â
"Ken," You mumble, "YouâWe have less than two minutesâ"
It's a warning, and Kendall takes it as it's meant. Your whine catches in your throat as his hips begin to hammer harshly against yours. You bear down around him and curl your arms around his shoulders, squeezing tightly. You hold onto him as desperately as he does to you.
"You're going to be lâlate," You whimper. "PleaseâFuck, Kenâ"
Kendall groans against your neck as he braces his hand against his desk. You can hear the knock on the doorâJess' voice warning, "You'll be late!"
"Kendall, fuck," You mumble, "Come on, cum in meâFuck, I want it, I want itâ"
Kendall's moan stutters into your skin as his hips slap, then slam, then press. You shiver as he cums into you. Your chest heaves as Kendall draws back, and watch as he tucks his cock away. He slides his hands up your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze. He's eyeing where he's dripping out of you, even as Jess calls, "...Kendall!"
"One minute," he calls back without looking away. He raises his hand, sliding his thumb over your slick, tender clit. You shift against him, sucking in a breath. His gaze flickers to yours as he leans down. He brushes his lips against yours as he draws your panties up around your thighs. You squirm, helping him pull your underwear all the way back up. Kendall lowers his hand, patting your cunt gently.
"Stay right here," He warns.
"Butâ"
"I'm gonna go get your budget approved, and you're gonna fucking thank me. Understand?"
You grin, swiping your tongue across your lower lip.
"Yessir."
Kendall takes a step back, then darts back in, giving you a deep, searching kiss.
"I'll take care of you, baby," He murmurs.
"You always do, Ken."
#Kendall Roy x Reader#Kendall Roy x You#Kendall Roy/Reader#Kendall Roy/You#Kendall Roy imagine#Kendall Roy fic
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i love when i search for fics w/ a specific character and i get everything but the character im looking for⊠love it
#succession#kendall roy#kendall roy x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#cod mw2#simon riley#cod x reader#captain john price x reader#captain john price#john price x reader#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett fanfiction#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you
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lost in the fire - kendall roy x f!reader
| masterlist | succession sideblog: @kendollroyco | my kendall playlist
chapter summary: your boyfriend works too much. a oneshot, but if we're being real, i was thinking about kendall and the reader from thinking of a place, because i miss them. pairing: kendall roy x f!reader words: 4.6k warnings: SMUT (18+ only). soft dom Kendall. Somewhat unhealthy/jealous/co-dependent relationship but this is a Succession fic so likeâŠwhat do we expect? Alcohol consumption - I don't know what Kendall's definition of sobriety is but he drinks a cocktail in this. a/n: i'll get back to tlou but i've had this partially written for like a year at this point. It started out as more of a manic Ken on a power trip type of fic but then it got really soft and fluffy because I am feeling touch-deprived lately so Iâm sorry if I didnât deliver enough evil ken for yaâll. :/ OOPS!
**ALSO! I got rid of my taglist. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifs if you would like to be notified when I update my works :) **
"We're like the Lewis and Clark of fucking." - Kendall Roy
Teetering down the hallway, you attempt to quell the outrageously loud click, click, click of your stilettos against the marble floor by shifting most of your weight into the ball of your feet and shuffling forward. It only makes it harder for you to balance while you attempt to put on the flashy gold hoop earrings your friend had insisted youâd wear. Of course, being quiet didnât really matter, because you were the only person inhabiting the Hudson Yards penthouse.Â
As usual, you are running late. Famously, you always underestimate how long it will take to get ready for social events â your friends could attest to that. It is a bad habit that, despite years of trying to correct, you can never quite shake.Â
Beelining for the double doors of the multi-million dollar home, you are interrupted by your name being called out in a sing-songy voice. There is a blur of movement out of the corner of your eye, and you turn towards the familiar sound to find your boyfriend rounding the corner, a drink in hand.
The sight of him at home is rare these days, that for a second, you arenât even sure if itâs really him. Maybe the place is being haunted by an eerily similar lookalike, or it could be some new ridiculous billionaire technology that heâd invested inâ holographic messaging, or something similarly dystopian that youâd roll your eyes at when he tries to explain it to you. Itâs fuckinâ next level, Iâm telling you. Iâm a fucking tech pioneer. You can practically hear him trying to sell you on it despite your distaste.
âKen?â you cling to the clutch under your arm, unable to stop the shit-eating grin that works its way onto your face. âHey. When did you get home?â
âHey yourself,â he answers, poorly hiding a bemused smirk behind Baccarat crystal. âI just got in.â
That much was clear, even though his briefcase and coat had already been cleared away from the table in the entranceway, and his suit jacket draped over the back of a barstool. âAre you going out?â He lowers the tumbler and leans against the counter, but still keeps it close, one finger sliding along the rim.Â
âYeah,â you approach Kendall cautiously. â...did you get my text? I thought Iâd get ready here, weâre going to that place around the corner.â
Heâd given you a key to his flat, even though the relationship was still pretty new â but decidedly not that new, given your history. Things were still moving quickly though, if you compare him to your past flings.
Kendallâs eyes close briefly in recognition, his brows pulling together as though he is scolding himself. âOh, uh-huh, yeahâŠ.right.â Itâs then, and in closing the space between you, that his haggard appearance becomes clear. Youâre one of few who would probably even notice it. To the untrained eye his white dress shirt is impeccable, crisp and stark as usual â save for the lack of cufflinks, which you notice heâs discarded on the counter alongside his drink. His tie is still fastened tightly around his neck in a perfect half-Windsor. But salt and pepper stubble is sprinkled across his jawline, faint red hazy in the whites of his amber eyes.Â
Work has consumed him in the last few weeks. Itâs been nonstop. And he is still home earlier than you have expected, even though the sun had gone down long ago.
Kendallâs hand wraps around your waist and you lean against him, accepting his affectionate peck on the cheek. âHey, honey.â The cedar notes of his cologne, the acidity of the vodka on his breath, and the weight of his arm around you makes your stomach flip, even as he draws back, releasing you so he can sit on a barstool. Itâs probably for the better, as the impulse to throw yourself into his arms and abandon your plans will become impossible to resist if you donât leave soon.
It would be a lie to say his career hasnât put a strain on things lately. Business trips, dinner meetings, weekend conventions all seem determined to keep him away from you. For the past few weeks, youâve been deprived of him, forced to accept only minutes of his time â mostly sweet nothings and apologies whispered as falls into bed beside you, then presses of his lips on your cheek, still half-asleep in the early hours of the morning as he leaves the next day. You have been forced to savor those moments, even though they are hardly substantial. But you know yourself, you arenât better off with someone else. He has always been what you wanted.
Still, lately you have been thinking about all his failed past relationships. There is certainly aâŠpattern. Youâve seen enough, and sometimes it feels like you are purposely ignoring the signs â Watch Your Step!, before falling into a pit of daggers.Â
He needed a break or heâd burn out, but youâve learned when to bite your tongue and save those suggestions for when you are sure they wonât erupt. And you both arenât always good at keeping arguments good-natured.Â
Kendall shifts in his chair so he can look you up and down â this time up close. âIs this what youâre wearing out?â
âUhhhh, yeah,â you answer hesitantly, feeling your face heat up.Â
âTurn around,â his resting facial expression is already kind of indignant, but you can tell right now that heâs definitely frowning.Â
âExcuse me?â
âYou heard me,â he says. âI want to see.â
You shrug, but obey, unable to hide the way your lips quirk when you are back facing him again, hands on your hips. All you have to do is read the look on Kendallâs face to know that he doesnât approve. And even though there is no way in hell you are going to change, the slight blaze in his narrowed eyes makes you think this is about to become a controversy.Â
âDo you have a problem?â you ask, feigning innocence, glancing down at the getup. The red dress barely covers your ass â is far more revealing than anything youâd normally wear, accompanied by stiletto heels that lace up your calves. Sure, itâs a lot, but you look good, and youâre going out.Â
âYouâll definitely be getting a lot of attention,â he conveniently doesnât answer your question.
If you werenât wearing lipstick, you wouldâve bit your lower lip to keep your composure. Instead, you tilt your head and give him a coy smile. âYou should come with me.âÂ
Kendall glances down at the countertop and shakes his head, the comment causing him to drop the subject of your attire entirely. âI canât. Iâve got a meeting first thing.â To be fair, he avoids the club scene most of the time, so itâs not a well-thought-out offer. Too much temptation. âBut you look good,â he concedes.Â
âA work meeting on a Saturday?â you ask, ignoring the compliment. âFuck,â you reach to take a sip from his tumbler. The vodka he keeps here is always chilled to perfection, so smooth it tastes like itâs melting off a glacier. âItâs that bad?â
He takes the beverage from your hand when you return it, shrugging before throwing the rest back, then standing to pour another. âJust the usual, la-dee-fuckin-dahâŠ.corporate bullshit.â
You frown and stare at your shoes, flexing your foot and inspecting its soles.
âThose heels donât look very comfortable,â he remarks as he passes you.
âThey arenât.â
âWell then Iâll guess Iâll have to take you shopping to replace them.â
You feel yourself flush. âLet me know when you can fit me in your schedule.âÂ
âUh-huh,â Kendall ignores your jab, changes the subject. âHowâs your job?â
âSame as yours. La-dee-fuckinâ-dah corporate bullshit,â you repeat his words from earlier, lowering your voice slightly to mimic his cadence of speaking.Â
The sound of his warm chuckle makes your stomach flip again. âYou want me to, uh, pour you one?â
âNo, I should probably get going.â You sigh, pulling out your phone to text your friends that you are running behind, and you hear the clink of ice against crystal.
Then, his voice, deep and husky, directly against your ear. âWhoâre you texting?â
You jolt in surprise at his sudden proximity. âFuck! Sorry,â you clear your throat. âUhâŠ.the group chat.â
Kendallâs arm reaches past you to place his drink on the counter, and you feel his fingertips brush the hair away from the nape of your neck. Then, his lips follow, pressing there gently, his thumb trailing down your arm and then back up again. You shiver at the contact, and it dawns on you how touch-deprived you are.
âPretty girl,â he murmurs against sensitive skin. His hands land on your shoulders and begin to knead at the taut muscles there. You try to keep yourself tense, even as you feel your phone slipping out of your hands, the drafted text all-but forgotten.
But instinctually, you shift backwards to feel the weight of his chest pressed against you.âYouâre all wound up,â Almost chastising. Every part of your body below your bellybutton clenches. Itâs those hands, his hands. Hands that used to wrap around your throat, thread into your hair, hold your wrists in place. Pin you down, spread you openâŠ. While you think about them, you let him work at the tension that he is partially responsible for, nodding and letting out a long exhale.
âJust a little.â
âWhen are you gonna quit that job?â he asks you.
You first, you want to say, but let the retort die before it could leave your mouth. âHmmmmm,â you pretend to mull it over, but youâre only half-aware of things heâs saying to you. âI donât know.âÂ
âWhat kind of uh, feminist would I be if I let a girl as hot as fucking you have to worry about a job?â
You canât help but snort, turning your head so his forehead bumps against your own. âIs that how feminism works?âÂ
âUh-huh,â he chides, breath tickling the shell of your ear. âFucking whatever. I wish youâd just let me look after you.â
You are unable to find your voice to answer, because you remember through your needy haze that you are running late, and when he says things like that, it certainly doesnât help you regain composure. Itâs only after you straighten, trying to pull yourself out of the trance heâs worked you into, that you discover how close he has pinned you to the countertop.
âKen-â you try to protest, but the way it comes out sounds more like youâre pleading.
âWhat is it?â Kendall asks, returning his lips once more to your neck, beginning to work them tenderly up the column of your throat, which makes it impossible for you to finish the rest of the objection. âIâve missed you so much,â he pulls you back against him by your waist.
âMe too,â you sigh. âBut I-,â youâre cut off when he grinds against you, already half-hard, and your pelvis hits the granite lip of the countertop. It hurts, just for a second, but the pain is quickly replaced by warmth. Kendall pulls his hands away and youâre only held in place by his hips, the metal of his belt buckle cool against your sacrum. The dress youâre wearing is so thin it feels like thereâs nothing separating him from your bare skin.Â
âYou what?â he prompts when you remain silent. You know him well enough to hear the self-satisfied smirk on his face, and his nails rake up and down your arms.
Itâs a little petty, but you are hesitant to give yourself over so easily to him. To abandon your evening, just because heâs finally decided to see you at a reasonable hour. Of course, if your friends knew you were late because you were with him, they wouldnât care. Kendall had been a well-kept secret until it was impossible to deny his existence in your life. But they were all a little too supportive of the relationship, since it meant they suddenly had guaranteed access to any club VIP section - and you perpetually pick up the bill. Not to mention the first-class, luxury accommodations they get on girls trips.Â
There was more to it than just being late, though. You had always been willing to do anything for him, even before you were dating. He told you to jump, you asked how far? He gave you one pleading look from underneath those thick lashes â and you folded. And Kendall is very aware that heâs your weakness. So you constantly try to convince him otherwise, lest he get too comfortable. And really, after his neglectful behavior, did he really deserve you without any opposition?
âKendall,â you manage to turn slightly. âIâm going to be late.â Wriggling some more in his grip, but itâs only enough to bring you face-to-face, looking up into his stormy eyes.Â
He studies you carefully, like he might let you leave if he senses enough conviction. âI donât care.â
You mightâve laughed, if it werenât for how stern he sounds. It almost scares you. Almost. Hoping to soften him, you fit your thumb into the dimpled fabric of his tie, and use it to drag him forward, offering a tender kiss on his cheek. Returning the embrace, his stubble scratches your face as he smiles against you. He reaches behind you for another sip of his drink and his unoccupied hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass through the silky fabric.Â
You are burning, fire licking up your arms, your neck, your face. Itâs too much, to have him so close and not be able to have him. All the tension building with nowhere for it to go. When he pulls back, you lean forward.
Itâs a little rough at first, because you are so desperate, tasting the vodka, drawing his bottom lip between your teeth. Kendall is the one who softens you, cradles your jaw to draw you closer, opens his mouth and deepens the kiss, so deliberate and practiced that youâre unable to speak when he pulls away.Â
âTell me something,â full lips so close to yours that they brush your own when he speaks, your eyes fluttering shut. His touch coasts up your sides, up your arms, landing on your shoulders. âWho are you showing off for in this?â Kendall hooks his pointed finger around a spaghetti strap of your dress, and lets the elastic snap back against your skin. You savor the sting it leaves behind.
Admittedly, thereâs a third reason why youâre being so withholding. Heâs so spoiled, so used to getting what he wants, whenever he wants it. Not just from you. And when he doesnât get it, he becomes petulant, fiery. Youâve learned that if you piss him off just enough, you donât have to ask him to fuck you within an inch of your life. He just does.Â
So, you decide to poke the sleeping bear, shrugging and crossing your arms like itâs nothing, giving him a demure smile. âYou wouldnât know him.â
Kendallâs nostrils flare as his hand rises to grip your jaw â tightly. âUh-huh.â Even if youâre only joking, the very idea of you dressing up at all â let alone like that â for anyone except himself, pisses him off. âFuck you.â
âYouâd like to, wouldnât you?â you try to keep your voice even, but it sort of loses the steadiness you were hoping for when he hooks a finger behind your knee, dragging it up across the expensive, soft wool of his slacks to peg around his hip.
The bruising kiss that answers is clearly intended to erase the smug look on your face, and it works â your breath hitching, the hand on his tie tugging him closer. Kendall seems to speak without saying anything at all, grabbing your opposite thigh and lifting until you are perched on the edge of the countertop.
Itâs getting real, but you still havenât decided if you are actually going to stick around. The way he looks right now, however, swings the pendulum farther into the side of staying in â red lipstick left behind on his cheek, shirt wrinkled, tie hanging loosely around his neck. You wanted to make him look even more wrecked.Â
Kissing him again, his hands begin to roam, tugging the dress off your shoulders and freeing your tits. âShit,â He dips his head to sloppily mouthing at the newly exposed skin. âKnew you werenât wearing a fuckinâ bra.â
âKen,â you squirm when he latches onto one of your nipples, pinching the other between two fingers. âI really need to get going.â
âNot yet,â he hums, the vibration of his voice against your skin makes the space between your legs ache. âIf youâre going to go out in this fucking dress, I donât want you to forget who you belong to.â
You squirm in his grip â not because you want to get away from him â but because you want to see if heâll pin you in place, be even rougher. He does. He is. âStop that. This isnât a fucking negotiation.â
Well, okay.
He kneads into your thighs now, one of his hands dipping beneath the skirt of your dress thatâs already so short heâs only an inch or so away from your already-soaked panties.Â
âFuck,â You tilt your head back to look at the ceiling, like you might find some self-control there, some will to resist him, but itâs about as cold and uninspiring as the rest of the apartment. âPlease.â
Kendall lets out a dark chuckle, pushing aside your thong and brushing his knuckles against your damp cunt. He loves to tease, and right now is no exception. His touch isnât enough to satisfy, so you press yourself forward to seek it out yourself. You donât dare meet his eyes, which you can feel are watching you intently, admiring how you keen and arch and whimper in frustration. Still, you arenât quite ready to beg.Â
Thankfully, you donât have to. Without warning, he pushes two fingers inside you, groaning as he does, his thumb finding your clit.
âYes, Kendall, thatâsââ you donât finish the thought because you arenât entirely sure what you actually have to say. His digits curl, attentive, practiced â tuned in to exactly what you like, what you need. You grip at the fabric of his shirt thatâs bunched around his elbows. Despite how intense meeting his gaze right now will be, you turn to look at him anyway, surprised by the affection and warmth you find in his eyes.Â
âYou try so hard not to be,â he says while he continues to stare you down. âBut youâre always so fucking good for me.â
Your stomach flips, partly in shame, partly because of how good itâs always felt to be seen by him. Throbbing around him, feeling your pleasure build, but he withdraws his fingers from you before it can crest. An embarrassing noise leaves you, squeezing your eyes shut.Â
The clink of his belt unbuckling immediately snaps you back to reality, and you hike your dress further up your hips, shimmying out of your thong. Itâs pitiful, the way you donât want to delay any longer the feeling of him inside you.Â
He strokes himself in his hand, lines his cock up, and pushes a piece of hair off your face.Â
âYou want me?â he asks, and you bob your head enthusiastically. âTell me, then.â
âI want you, Kendall. Please, I want you so bad.âÂ
âYeah you do,â he mutters, and wastes no time jerking forward to enter you.Â
Though youâd had him plenty of times you never could quite get used to the feeling â heâs big, of course, and itâs always electric, the blood in your veins buzzing, your hands tightening on his shoulders.Â
âRelax, honey,â Kendall says, feeling the way your body tenses at the intrusion, placing a hand on your sacrum, one between your shoulder blades to steady you.
He presses his hips forward until they are flush against your own, bottoming out inside you, pausing. Itâs welcome at first, a chance to catch your breath, to let out a shuddery exhale - temporarily appeased by the way your cunt stretches to accommodate him, and heâs so close to you after so much time spent away. Youâre embarrassed at how badly youâve needed this, how reliant on him youâve become, but he always feels so good.Â
Kendall stays still for long enough that you grow frustrated, and you use his tie to pull him closer, loosening the knot and rutting against him until he presses his thumb into the crease of your hip and thigh so hard you are forced to stop. Once you do, he starts to move, thrusts slow but deep, lips pressing hastily between panting breaths.Â
âFuck, itâs been too long,â he laments.
Despite everything, you canât help but talk back. âYou donât say?â
Kendall doesnât like that at all, his hips snapping at a punishing pace, which seems more like a reward than anything else, his hand clasping your jaw roughly, forcing you to look at him.Â
âDonât speak to me like that,â he warns.
An involuntary, low moan leaves you. Itâs overwhelming â always is. You arenât used to sex with someone you feel so connected to, or with a lover who is so attentive to your needs, who effortlessly strikes a perfect balance between rough, passionate, and tender.Â
You wrap your legs around his waist, fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, anxious to run your hands through the smattering of hair on his chest, feel the warmth of his skin under your palms. Even if itâs not possible, you want to be closer to him. Needy. So needy. Youâve heard it from him before, and would probably hear it again. He is right, and in moments like this, you can never bring yourself to care. You like it.
Heâs watching you so intently, and the rest of the city might as well be too. He basically lives in a fishbowl, youâre surrounded by windows that offer panoramic views of the glittering lights of the city. The only reason you have any privacy at all is because of just how high up you are, no one else can actually see you right now. Even if they did, what could possibly happen? Kendall loves to take advantage of this â heâs taken you up against the cold glass windows, has let you sink to your knees in front of him out on his balcony.Â
âWhat are you gonna tell your friends when they ask why you were so late tonight?â he asks. âGonna tell them you were letting me spread you open on the fucking counter?â
âGod,â you stutter out, always shocked by the things that come out of his mouth when takes you like this, voice deep and firm, enunciating each syllable like heâs giving a speech â frustratingly collected. It makes you ache that much more. âI missed you,â you whimper, pulling his shirt off his shoulders. As much as you want it fully off, not just hanging loose around his elbows, you donât want him to release you from the bruising hold heâs got you in. This would have to do.Â
âUh-huh,â Kendall answers by fucking into you even harder, his pelvic bone kissing your clit with every thrust, and your nails etching crescents into his biceps. âI know. Iâm sorry.âÂ
His head falls to your shoulder in a brief moment of humility, lips working on your neck, and you feel your release fast approaching. In moments like these, you donât doubt how he really feels. He gives it all away, tries his best to make it up to you, and itâs so easy to forgive him. Kendallâs fist wraps around one of the stiletto heels of your shoes, lifting your leg to hook over his shoulder and drive his cock deeper into you. Heâs perfect, feels perfect, thereâs no one else who makes you feel the way he does. When his thumb begins to rub delicate circles around your clit, youâre gone.
Your body tenses up for so long, you actually think you mightâve psyched yourself out. And then everything releases. Kendall coaxes you through your orgasm, deep voice muttering things that are either unintelligible or that you wouldnât dare to repeat out loud, and you cling to him while your cunt pulses in waves. It lasts for a long time, or at least it feels like it does, he slows just to fuck you through it, so you can both savor how good it feels. Thatâs it. Thatâs my good fucking girl. When he tries to kiss you, you oblige, but itâs open-mouthed and sloppy since youâre struggling to breathe and canât stop whispering his name.Â
âKen, youâre so good, itâs so goodââ
You know he likes to be praised just as much as you do. He cuts you off with a deep kiss, moaning into your mouth and vibrating every nerve in your body as he follows you over the edge, spurred on by your own release. He buries his cock inside you as deep as he can, you feel warm and full and complete.Â
For what feels like a few minutes, you remain tangled with one another, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You can feel the soft puffs of his breathing against your skin, which is now damp.
Eventually, he draws back, kisses your cheek and tucks himself back into his underwear. You pull the straps of your dress back into place and when you push yourself off the counter, realize your legs are trembling and you wobble.
Kendall reaches to steady you. âGo sit down,â he squeezes your arm and you barely manage to stumble to his couch before youâre slumping against the cushions and struggling to unlace the strappy heels youâve still got on.Â
He joins you a moment later, placing a glass of cold water on the coffee table and kneeling to help you out of your shoes. You can only imagine what you must look like, because he looks disheveled, shirt still hanging open, pants unbuttoned, your lipstick still smudged on his cheek. Exhausted as you are, it makes you want him all over again.Â
He settles next to you, pulls you to his chest, and you wrap your arms around his waist, leaning up to whisper softly in his ear. âKen,â he turns his head slightly, cheek pressed against your forehead. âI love you.âÂ
From this angle you can only see the corner of his eyes, the way they crinkle as he looks down bashfully, eyelashes nearly touching his cheeks at your admission, words he so rarely has heard before. Words you have vowed to repeat until he believes you â because sometimes you think he doesnât. Still, he answers. âI love you, too.â You close your eyes a moment, your heart rate returning to normal, and take in one final deep breath. Content.Â
âI donât want to keep you from your friends,â Kendall says eventually, hands in your hair, tugging gently so youâll look up at him.Â
âRight,â you nod. âHonestly, I donât know if I even want to go out anymore.â
âBut you got all dressed up,â he smirks.
âLook where it got me.â
He laughs. âUh-huh. You knew what you were doing what you fucking put that shit on.â
You donât deny it, feeling your cheeks grow warm. Itâd be too easy to stay with him, to slide across his lap and kiss him until he takes you again. But your phone dings on the counter, and you know you canât abandon your friends entirely. You sigh, pulling away from Kendall and looking him in the eyes.Â
âDonât worry,â he encourages. âIâll wait up for you.â
#succession#succession writing#kendall roy#kendall roy x reader#kendall roy imagine#kendall roy smut#kendall x reader alliance please rise!!!!
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Clandestine. Part Four.
Part One. Part Two. Part Three.
Chapter Synopsis - Death puts everything into perspective.
Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x Female Roy!Reader
Warnings - cursing. lots of talk about grief.
Word Count - 3k
Authorâs Note - now I might just be the last person on tumblr still writing for stewy, but I am determined to finish this series. letâs ignore the fact itâs been a year since I updated it, shall we? one more part of this to go!! thank you, if youâre still here for my succession stuff <3
Series Masterlist. Main Masterlist. Inbox.
Youâre floating around in a daze.
Itâs been a week since Connorâs phone call. A week since the formidable Logan Roy died on the floor of his private plane, surrounded by his closest employees. A week since youâve seen Stewy.
Youâve been crashing in Romanâs guest room, neither of you wanting to be alone. You go to your Dadâs apartment, have meetings with old white men that all look the same, pop into the office every now and again and go home to your brothers. You were barely speaking to Kendall before all of this happening, never mind now. You canât remember the last time the two of you said more than three words to each other.
Youâre sat at Romanâs dinner table when a strange feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You watch him picking at his salad for a minute before you say anything.
âHave you⊠spoke to Kendall? Like, over the last few days?â
Roman looks confused by the question, but doesnât voice it.
âYeah, here and there. You guys are in a fight, right?â
âUh, yeah. We were. I guess we still are. Iâm just⊠worried about him. God knows his mental health has been in the gutter recently anyway, but now Dadâs dead, and⊠I donât know. It just canât end well, right?â
âAll we can do is keep an eye on him, I guess. He wonât fucking accept it even if we try and help, so.â
âYeah.â
You move the chicken around on your plate with your fork, neither of you having much of an appetite recently.
âSo, you never told me what your fight was about. It all seems like this big ass fucking secret that only Roman doesnât know about.â
Youâre a little taken aback by Romans candour. Usually heâs pretty avoidant, happy to live with the not knowing. Heâs done with that, apparently.
âYouâre not the only one that doesnât know, Rome. Ken is the only one that does.â
âWhy?â
âWhy?â
âYeah, why? Why does everyone include Kendall in everything and leave me on the fucking sidelines? Why am I always the one who doesnât get the joke, who doesnât know the secret?â
âRome-â
âI know heâs your favourite, but Jesus. You could at least try and include me sometimes.â
âRoman.â
âWhat?â
âKendall only âknows the secretâ because he⊠walked in on the secret. Not because I sought him out and told him, or anything like that. I promise.â
âThe fuck are you talking about?â
With what has happened over the past week, your perspective on almost everything has changed. Keeping your secret is no longer top priority - or priority at all. Youâre realising that you donât care, because it doesnât matter. Not much really matters.
âIâm in love with Stewy.â
Romanâs silent for a moment, processing.
âHosseini?â
You canât help but laugh.
âYeah, Rome. Hosseini. Do you know any other Stewys?â
He shakes his head, still visibly confused.
âAre you gonna tell him?â
âTell him what?â
âThat youâre in love with him.â
âOh. Oh. Yeah, um⊠he already knows. We - weâre in love. With each other. Weâre dating.â
âYouâre dating him?â
âThatâs crazier than me being in love with him one sided?â
âUh, yeah.â
You chuckle, looking at him for a moment before a grin breaks out across his face. Heâs always been the most easy going of your brothers, the most understanding. Youâve always felt a comfort in talking to Roman - heâs more open minded than he appears. Heâs a surprisingly good listener, even when you think your problems are trivial or stupid.
âFor how long?â
âFuck, I donât even know. Two years, give or take?â
âTwo years?â
âAre you mad?â
âMad? Iâm mad impressed, Princess. I didnât think youâd be able to keep a big secret like that from me for that long.â
âSo you donât hate me?â
Youâre suddenly vulnerable, terrified that your big brother is going to think less of you. Your brothers are all you have, all youâve ever had. The four of you learned to survive with each other, with no help from parents or nannies or any kind of adult. You have nothing if you donât have your brothers.
âI donât hate you, dummy. I could never hate you.â
You stand up and make your way over to him, perching on his leg like you used to when you were kids. You wrap your arms around his neck, exhaling when he wraps his around your middle.
âLove you, Rome,â you whisper. âEven if you are a pain in my ass.â
âYeah, love you too,â he murmurs. âEven if you do keep important secrets from me.â
âI promise I wonât keep anything from you ever again.â
âYeah?â
âYeah. Promise. No more secrets.â
You pull back but stay sat on his lap, feeling six years old again, taking solace in the presence of your big brother.
âSo Kendall⊠walked in on you?â
âHe saw us leaving the gala together and got suspicious. He showed up at Stewyâs apartment the next morning, banging on the door and asking where I was.â
âOh shit,â he laughs.
âItâs not funny,â you retort, but youâre holding back your giggles as you do it.
âAnd Iâm guessing he didnât take it well.â
âNot at all. He was cycling between yelling and swearing and then sitting really quietly just⊠staring into space. Then he got personal, which was expected, but that pissed Stewy off, so the whole thing got awkward again. It was⊠horrendous.â
âHeâs horrible at feelings.â
âSays Mr Communication over here.â
He shoves you off his lap, chuckling when you slide onto the floor. You punch him in the arm as you get up, returning to your original seat. You sit in silence for a moment, neither of you quite sure how to continue.
âWhat now?â
âI⊠donât know, Rome. I just donât know.â
âI mean, the world hasnât stopped spinning. Maybe it feels like it has for us, but everyone else has carried on.â
Youâre confused by your brotherâs sudden wisdom, until it clicks for you.
Heâs free.
Sure, heâs grieving. You all are. But heâs lighter. Laughs a little easier. Gives out advice quicker.
Heâs free.
You all are.
The shackles your father had placed on all four of you are broken. You are no longer bound to him or Waystar or his insane ideals as to what family should be or do or say.
âI need to get out.â
âWhat?â Roman asks as he cocks his head, quirking a brow at you in curiosity.
âI donât want to be a part of this anymore. This⊠constant cycle of destruction and deception and stabbing people in the back. It wonât stop now that Dadâs dead. Itâs the very foundation that his business is built on.â
âSo youâre gonna⊠leave?â
âYeah. Yeah, thatâs exactly what Iâm gonna do. Iâm gonna sell my shares and Iâm gonna get the fuck out.â
Roman laughs, now, all big and bold and beautiful. You donât know whatâs funny, but you canât help but laugh with him.
âI am too.â
âWait⊠what?â
âIâm doing the same.â
âRoman.â
âIâm serious. I donât know who CEO is gonna be, but it isnât gonna be me. Itâll be Kendall or Tom or someone completely different, but we all know neither you or I are capable.â
âJeez. Thanks.â
âYouâre telling me you could run the entire Waystar business?â
You roll your eyes, kicking him under the table.
âObviously I fucking couldnât. But at least pretend to have a little bit more faith in me.â
Your brother chuckles, leaning back in his chair.
âWeâre not built for it, you and me. Weâre meant for something different. Something better, Princess.â
You nod, chewing on your bottom lip.
âWhat about Kendall?â
âWhat about him?â
âI feel like weâre⊠abandoning him.â
Rome looks solemn, suddenly, thinking about your older brother.
âHeâll come around, you know. And heâll understand. Thatâs the thing about Kendall - he canât hold a grudge to save his life. He tries, but he canât.â
A tear rolls down your cheek, lump in your throat choking any words that try to escape.
âHey, hey,â Roman soothes as he walks over, standing above you.
He swipes his thumb across your cheekbone, wiping away your sadness.
âHe loves you more than anything, you know.â
You shake your head, so your brother doubles down.
âHe does. Youâve always been his favourite. Heâd do anything for you - anything at all. Heâs mad because you and Stewy kept a secret from him, not because youâre together. Trust me.â
âHe looked at me that day like he hated me.â
âHe couldnât hate you if he tried. Heâs just⊠emotionally unavailable. Everyone knows this.â
âI miss him,â you whisper, lip trembling. âI miss my brother.â
Youâre taken aback by how much you miss Kendall, suddenly. You miss him so much more than you miss Logan, or your Mom.
âGive him time. Thatâs all he needs. He misses you, I know he does. But you know what heâs like when he feels betrayed. He shuts down and gets all aggressive.â
You look up at Roman, gentle smile making its way onto your face.
âWhen did you get so smart, huh?â
âIâve always been smart,â he laughs. âEveryone underestimates me.â
âThat they do.â
âWell, not anymore. Weâre getting out.â
âWeâre getting out,â you repeat, finally allowing yourself to feel happiness at the prospect. âWeâre gonna get the fuck out.â
âTalk to Stewy about selling your shares and let me know what he says. The sooner, the better.â
âI will. Iâm excited, Rome. The world is our oyster.â
âMe too,â he chuckles, ruffling your hair. âWeâll go to the funeral, and then weâll never have to see any of those assholes ever again.â
âI canât wait to not have to look at Karlâs stupid fucking face every day.â
Roman keels over laughing, wheezing as he clutches his stomach. Youâre crying with laughter too, both of you lighter and freer than youâve ever been.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
âYou sure about this, Rome?â
âOne hundred percent.â
You hug him tightly as you say goodbye, smiling when he presses a kiss into your hair.
âIâll let you know what Stewy says tomorrow, okay?â
âOkay. See you tomorrow, Princess. Call me if you need anything.â
âYou too. Anything.â
He ruffles your hair before sending you on your way, waiting at the front door to watch you go.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
âStewy? You home?â
You drop your bags by the front door, kicking off your shoes and jacket as you do it. Youâre about to yell again when he comes running around the corner, sliding across the wood floors in his socks.
âBaby.â
He breathes it, as if he canât believe youâre really standing in front of him again.
âMissed you, Hosseini.â
You fly into his arms, burying yourself as deep as you can in his chest. His old, worn t shirt is soft and grey and smells like the love of your life and all of his memories spent at home. He tightens his grip on you, pulling you impossibly closer.
âHow are you?â he asks without letting go, resting his chin on the top of your head.
âIâm okay. Iâm good, actually. Really good.â
âYeah?â
Now he pulls away to look at you, confused by the sudden change of heart. When you left to go to Romanâs a week ago, you were a shell of a woman, a little girl without a dad. Now, youâre back, brighter and more alive than ever.
âYeah.â
You look at him, really look at him, for a moment, before taking a deep breath and saying the words youâve been dying to say.
âMarry me, Stewy.â
He staggers back as if youâve hit him, eyes blown wide.
âW-what?â
âMarry me.â
He inhales, exhaling shakily before stepping forward to cradle your face in his hands.
âArenât I supposed to be asking you that?â
âMaybe,â you laugh. âBut I guess I got there first.â
âHoney, forgive me if Iâm a little confused, but⊠you just came back after being gone for a week because your dad died and now youâre⊠proposing?â
âMe and Roman are leaving Waystar,â you explain. âWeâre selling our shares and getting the fuck out.â
âShit. Really?â
âReally. The only thing stopping me from leaving years ago was the fear of disappointing my dad, and now heâs gone. So⊠thereâs nothing keeping me there. I wanna do something else. Something for me.â
âYeah?â
Heâs grinning, beaming at you from ear to ear. Light is practically pouring from him, radiating in all directions.
âYeah,â you half yell, leaning up to press an excited kiss to his lips. âIâm done, Stewy. Iâm free.â
He picks you up, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you spin. You shriek with laughter, the world blurring as it whizzes past you. Eventually he puts you down, both of you breathless.
âLifeâs too short. I need to start living it.â
âIâm so proud of you,â he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. âI love you.â
âI love you so much. More than anything.â
You kiss him tenderly, gentle and sweet and filled with so much adoration.
âSo, back to my original questionâŠâ
âWait,â he interrupts, halting your speech. âLet me do this the right way.â
With that, he runs off towards the bedroom, leaving you stood in the hallway as confused as ever. You wait patiently, desperate to be privy to his plans.
When he returns, still in his pyjamas, he kisses you softly before getting down on one knee, ring box in his hand.
âHoney. You are the love of my goddamn life. I bought this ring after weâd been dating for⊠three months? Call me crazy, but I knew. I just knew. It was always going to be me and you. Always.â
Your hands are shaking, breath caught in your chest as you try to soak in every second of this moment.
âSoâŠ. how do you feel about becoming Mrs Hosseini?â
âI canât think of anything Iâd love more.â
âIs that a yes?â
âThe biggest, most sure yes of my entire life. Yes. Yes, Iâll marry you. Yes.â
He swoops you up into his arms, kissing you with more passion than you ever thought possible. You slip your tongue into his mouth cheekily, tangling your fingers into his hair to pull him closer as he groans.
You finally pull away for air, both of you panting like youâve just run a marathon. Your eyes well up suddenly, a tear falling without you realising.
âYou okay?â he murmurs, thumbs rubbing circles into your cheekbones.
âIâm so happy,â you whisper. âI feel like today is the first day of the rest of my life.â
âSo do I,â he agrees, looking down at you with so much love you it makes your knees buckle. âBaby⊠if youâre getting out, then Iâm getting out.â
âWait, what?â
âIf you want to get out of Waystar, Iâm not gonna stay. If youâre washing your hands of it, then I am too.â
âBut⊠your money.â
âHoney, those shares donât mean shit to me. The only thing that matters is you.â
You look at him intently for a moment, searching for any traces of doubt. All you find is pure adoration.
âStewy?â
âYeah?â
âAre you gonna keep that ring in the box forever?â
He throws his head back as he laughs, opening the velvet box to show you whatâs inside. He slips it onto your finger with ease, the diamond sparkling perfectly on your hand.
âItâs so beautiful. Iâm the luckiest person in the world, Mr Hosseini.â
âI think I have to disagree with you there, Mrs Hosseini.â
âSay it again.â
âMrs Hosseini.â
âAnd again.â
He kisses you, mumbling against your lips.
âMrs Hosseini.â
âMhmm.â
âMy wife. The prettiest girl in the world. Mrs Hosseini.â
You canât help but grin into his mouth, buzzing with the energy of it all.
âNow, I was about to make dinner before you came home, but we can go out and celebrate if you want?â
You shake your head, snaking your arms around his neck.
âAll I want right now is a night in with you - thatâs all the celebration I need. Letâs make that pasta you like, and then we can watch old sitcom reruns on the couch.â
âSounds perfect.â
Stewy slides his hand into yours, his thumb playing with the shiny band of the ring on your finger.
âItâs gonna be like this forever, you know. We get to do this for the rest of our lives.â
âItâs all Iâve ever wanted,â you breathe, resting your head on his shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen. âYouâre all Iâve ever wanted.â
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
As the sun sets through the floor to ceiling windows, you and Stewy dance across the kitchen, slipping and sliding across the tiles.
Your heart skips a beat every time your ring catches the light.
Your heart skips a beat every time you look at your fiancé.
Your heart skips a beat every time you realise that youâre not dreaming.
This is your life. And youâve never been more excited to live it.
@justacaliforniandreamer @616wilsons @shawty-writes-a-little @isuspectitwasthenargles @thinemineours @buckysbae @jolie989 @allcheesemelts @nosebeers
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