#Roman roy

[fanofshitorwhatever]

HBO insta at it again help

[strang3lov3]

Heyyyy!! My daddy issues are going crazy tonite. Sooooo what do we think about Step!dad Rome brushing the reader’s hair?? Like his parental instincts are kicking in but he’s also sooo turned on. I feel like he would just melt completely.

- 🧌 (Hopefully this emoji isn’t taken)

I don’t usually write things like this - I’ve intentionally left reader a blank slate in my stories so anyone can read and enjoy. I realize that not all of my readers have long hair, or have hair that can be brushed, so I’m not considering this…idk. Canon to their story I guess. It’s just a little what if.

You’re sitting between Roman’s legs, and the carpet is a little itchy on your skin. You’re watching TV, resting the side of your face on his knee, hands wrapped around his shin and playing with the fabric of his pants, trailing your fingers underneath to feel his warm skin.

Roman’s a fidgeter - always has been. Always toying with something. Clicking a pen, spinning his ring, taking his watch on and off, whatever. Tonight, he’s been absentmindedly playing with your hair. Scratching your scalp with his neatly trimmed fingernails, trailing those fingers down the length of your strands. He admires the texture, how soft your hair feels between his fingertips. The color, how the highlights shift in the light. He braids your hair, then takes it out and starts the process over again.

Wordlessly, Roman reaches into the drawer of the end table. There’s a wide tooth comb that’s been sitting in there for god knows how long, wasn’t ever supposed to be there. It seems that it’s just where the comb lives now. A permanent fixture amongst other odds and ends - buttons, a remote to a sound bar Roman no longer has, expired hand cream.

He takes the comb and begins working it through the ends of your hair, enjoying the sounds of the plastic rubbing against your soft strands. Roman’s always loved doing your hair - he used to do it a lot when you were younger, gently brushing out the tangles before tying your hair into a ponytail, a bun. Maybe a pretty braid, if time allowed. Quieting your whines when he’d tug on a particularly stubborn knot.

Roman pulls your hair now. Hard. Intentionally. Late at night, when he’s pounding into you from behind. Those same strands he used to brush and braid with that gentle, fatherly affection, he now grips in his fingers. Fingers that are soaked in your arousal, as he tells you to fucking take it. “Be a good girl for daddy, now. This is what you wanted, right? Don’t lie. Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Or when you’re on your knees, taking him in your mouth. When you gag while he fucks your throat, he feels it close around his length. With a fucked out look in your eyes and tears running down your cheeks he tells you to breathe. “Br- hey - breathe. Breathe for me. You remember how to do that, honey? Or does daddy’s cock make you too stupid? Ohh, fuck. You poor thing.”

When your hair is brushed through, Roman runs his hands through it. He wraps his fingers around the strands and tugs, feeling his cock harden and his balls tighten when you moan.

[cum-a-calla]

as someone who’s written amazing sub!roman, any thoughts on tipping him so far over the edge that he comes without permission and gets all panicky ??

He’s leaking.

His cheeks are so red, the apples of them nearly glowing hot - it feels good to press your lips down against them in small, peppered kisses, soft and sweet. He’s absolutely miserable. Eyes cloudy, words melting off into meaningless, whining moans… god, he’s so pretty. So lost. You wonder idly in the back of your mind how many times he can really bite his bottom lip between his teeth before he makes himself bleed, before it’s so chapped he has to start subtly moisturizing at work. And isn’t that a cute thought? Every time he pulls a goddamn chapstick out of his suit pocket, covertly rubbing it on his lips. Embarrassed. His stupid little smirk being just a little bit shinier, a little extra soft. Fuck.

“You really want it, huh?” Soft voice, soft hands - gliding up and down his shaft, and fuck… he’s so thick, so fucking hard. Precum drips over the knuckle of your thumb on the upstroke and you gather it, gliding it back over the fat, engorged head, soft as velvet. There’s a fleeting consideration about leaning down to lick him, or even kiss it… but you don’t. Roman whines and tenses up, hips bucking so softly into your hand.

“Yeah��� yeah, yes, fuck…”

His voice. So delicate. Quiet and loud all at once, somehow, drawn so painfully high - he’s gotta be so embarrassed, begging for your touch like this. It makes it so much better.

You’re only human. Throbbing, careful in revealing your desperation, you sigh, you stroke his hot cheek and reach up to thread your fingers into his mussed hair, pulling it into your fist. He gasps and his eyes fly open, looking obediently up at you. For once, Roman Roy has nothing to say. He’s just an object. A thing, a vessel. You smile kindly down at him, fixing your expression into a soothing one despite squeezing his cock at the base before stroking him again, slowly, diabolically. When he arches his hips again you pull away from his dick to slap him on the thigh and he stops.

“Good boy,” you whisper. “I’m going to use you now. No - no…. shh. Don’t say a fucking thing. It’s not up to you, is it, baby?”

He squeezes his eyes shut and there’s the initial tensing of his muscles, the barest hint of a thrust - and, like the good boy he desperately wants to be, he stills it down, takes a breath, whining through his gorgeous nose like a fucking puppy. There’s a beat where you wait, trusting that he can be obedient. It’s important to train a dog. You slide a thumb against his bottom lip and he accepts it without thought - and does he have any thoughts left? Does he need any? No. No, he doesn’t.

The slow, delicious slide down his cock is everything. Working yourself down over the throbbing length, making it torturously slow for the both of you - not that his feelings matter… not really. It’s yours, after all. Roman, that is - his entire life and professional position doesn’t stop him from being an object to be used right now, in this moment, moaning and begging in half-words as you take your time to work his cock inside of the warm, tight place in along body. Your time, your rules.

It’s only a few rolls of your hips in that you realize there may be a problem - he twitches, hips bucking so very slightly - and then his voice draws up so loud, so painfully, embarrassingly high-strung. His cock throbs, and you grab him by the jaw, shaking him til he looks at you, barely, eyes glazed.

"Oh, I'm - mmm'sorry, sorry, I'm... I -"

Roman gasps his breaths, whining like a soft little thing. Eyes squeezed shut, nails digging desperately into your thighs as his hips grind up, up, bucking the both of you off the bed with the force of his wet cock between the slippery lips of your cunt. Under your gaze, he gives in to his own end. Cum shoots from his pretty, flushed slit in ropes, over his own belly.

You're not mean... no. Accidents happen.

Roman moans and whines as he comes back down, and the reality of his situation comes to the forefont of his brain as the haze clears up. His breath visibly, audibly hitches in his chest and he makes another whining sound, but it's different - this one borne of humiliation, disappointment. No pleasure at all. His big, beautiful eyes, pupils dilated in the melting of pleasure into fear. And that's exactly what it is. You watch as he processes and the panic rises up his belly, his chest, til there's a film of tears over his eyes, the faintest wobble in his chin, his bottom lip.

"Fuck," he whispers. "I fucked it. I... I fucking -" He covers his eyes with his forearm, pressing into it. There's a twitch in his chest as he bites back the threat of sobs, his trembling body underneath you.

"Rome. Baby - hey. Stop. Look at me. Look," you urge, pulling his arm away. Red spiderwebs of veins cross into the whites of his eyes, his lashes wet. He still looks so beautiful. So absolutely wrecked. "You know I'm still going to use you, right?"

It's not a question. Not really. It's a fact. He takes a moment, sniffling, nodding obediently.

"You gunna be good for me, now?" You ask firmly. "Gunna make it up to me?"

"Good."

His whining - his pathetic, wavering voice, his gasps, his weak little uh-huh, I will, please, I'm sorry. It's enough to make your cunt clench down on nothing, still lazily gliding your hips over his spent cock.

The slow ascent up his body, crawling. His eyes on your face, your tits, reverent, watching until you're poised over his mouth. "Ready, baby?" you ask. It's only a courtesy - it doesn't matter, not really. He's going to do it anyway.

Once you've lowered your hips, his perfect, gorgeous nose is buried at the apex of your slit, his red eyes fluttering shut as he gets to work licking, sucking, lapping like the dog he is. An obedient little mutt, lips working overtime to show you he can learn. His tongue is so soft and warm on your clit. It's like he's spelling a prayer, there, begging forgiveness with his little whines and moans. A glance behind shows you his cock twitching just a little, barely half-hard but on its way. It's too bad, really, because he's not going to be allowed to use it for a while. But you save this tidbit for later - no need to distract him.

Roman eats your cunt like it's his last meal. The thought of it has molten heat surge down between your thighs, where he looks up at you in little bursts of bravery. God, he belongs here. Belongs underneath, being used, and your hips are rolling as that pressure builds and builds, dripping over his face, his chin.

You thread your hands into his hair as it washes over you - Roman picks up the pace as you start moaning and riding against his mouth, trying to take in all your pleasure, to be useful, to worship your pussy for the heaven it is, all tight and pink and pulsing on his face. The vibrations of his moaning only serve to heighten how hard you cum on his tongue.

"Nose - now. Nose," you demand, and he obeys, shifting lower to rub the tip of his nose over your sensitive, pulsing clit, his tongue diving as far as he can into your wet, tight, twitching hole. You trail your thumb over the visible bridge of his nose, over and over and over, tattooing its skight curve into your brain like braille as your eyes clench shut and you ride the last of it out. "Good boy. Fuck - you're so fucking good, you belong here."

In the aftermath, pulling off of his face and flopping bonelessly beside him, he eyes you with a certain level of shame. His red-rimmed eyes, feverish cheeks. His cock almost fully hard now, pointedly ignored.

"Good job, Rome," you coo softly, kissing the red blade of his cheekbone. He shudders and leans into it, the softest hum vibrating through his chest as he surrenders, snaking a tentative arm around the dip of your waist. Wanting to pull you closer, careful to be slow in case you don't want it. "You need me? That's okay, baby."

You sink into him, kissing his forehead, his eyebrows, the tense lines between them. You trace your lips down the devastating slope of his strong nose, licking the tip before you treat him to a kiss. Not because he's earned it - just because you want it. He responds hungrily, reaching up to frame your face with his fingers.

Worship.

Face pressed against his chest, both of you cooling down, there's a wonderful silence. An acceptance. News of his impending punishment can wait for now - you're not cruel. Roman nuzzles closer, arm around you, seeking your heat, and for now... he can have it.

[mollspeak]

no but like. the game of baseball in the very first episode of succession. roman betting a small child half a million that he can make a home run. he takes a family game and makes it a business transaction. and the kid is so nearly at home base, but then he's out. and then he's just a disappointed kid again but for a second he had a shot at more money than he could ever comprehend. and that's succession in a nutshell. it's just a family game and the roys are just desperate kids sprinting for home base because someone promised them everything. and do you know who gets the kid out? tom.

[flock-of-cassowaries]

Hard to say…

fuck your star sign tell me your favorite roy sibling

[queerasian]

show of all time

[weirdgirlvampire]

Oh characters doomed from the start we’re really in it now

[tabsnaomi]

come back to me

[monakota]

[leghorned]

HE FROM ON HIGH RAVING EVERYMAN

STRANGER-IN-BATHROOM STAIRMASTER

disco elysium-inspired portraits, thoughts below

kendall — the boy prince with a crown of thorns, imprisoned at the top. he overlooks the city, painfully distant from it all. a reflection in broken glass haunts him; his father, the waiter, himself. shattered and bloodied and dripping onto him still. so high and so blue, a puzzle barely together. his gaze tells you he knows how pathetic he is.

connor — the relatable uber-rich. the eldest son, forgotten, overtaken by the background. his political ambitions are yet another hobby to fill a void; his ranch, his wine, his presidency. he is pastel, faded, swathed in republican red that even then is all vanity. sees himself in screens. he is blowing away in the wind.

roman — doing the dirty work in the dirty room. he's ready to sling over offers and quick wit but there is a childishness about him, like he's scrawled in crayon. something's off, something's wrong with him and you can't figure out what exactly. he lives within it, then: slimy and blood-hot and close. his eyes dart around. the trained dog that might just bite when he's nervous.

shiv — all that effort to go nowhere. a girl with a pearl earring: wealthy, intriguing, unknowable. can't be bothered to face you fully, but baring her back in the process. bathed in the lines of light that her father gives her in inches. she is doomed to be pushed, and to be helped back up, which might be worse than the falling. exuding something sharp, startling, hot pink: forever pinky.

and if you got here... THANKS 4 reading & looking

[strang3lov3]

🎀 yesssss i did😏u get me so bad fr!!!! inshallah we get over this intensified ovulation lest i get bred😔(roman please my uterus is available 24/7) 🎀

“It’s just nature,” he tells you while pounding into your pussy so deep, so hard, bruising your cervix. “And look - oh, fuck. Your cunt gives you away, you know. God, you’re really hurting for it, huh?”

“No, Roman—”

“Oh, yes, Roman,” he grunts, mocking you. “You can scream and bitch all you want but I fuckin’ feel it, I feel you fuckin’ clenching and squeezing my cock,” Roman purrs, rubbing tight circles into your clit. “I know exactly how bad you fucking need to be bred. It really is just human nature, sweetheart. Quit fighting it.”

[sugurugetos]

SUCCESSION 1.03 — Lifeboats 1.10 — Nobody Is Ever Missing

[ellamorgan333]

[dailyflicks]

SUCCESSION 1.02 — Sh*t Show at the F*ck Factory (2018)

[romangf]