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beegomess · 6 months ago

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You Haven’t Seen My Man || Kendall Roy

Summary: Being Kendall Roy's wife involves giving up some things. However, working with you involves understanding that sometimes you may end up drawing more attention than he would like. But this is not really a problem for someone who loves to prove to be powerful all the time. Warnings: Cute, spicy with hints of implicit control - Word count: 8.3k

You were married now, but the story that united you was far from conventional or romantic. His brother and Kendall met in a rehabilitation clinic, sharing not only the fight against addiction, but also the weight of being heirs always pressured to prove their worth. The friendship between them was natural, and you, as a frequent visitor, became part of that bond. At the time, she hid that she worked as a legal advisor at Waystar, aware that the connection with the Roys could complicate things.

When both were discharged, you organized a celebration. It was that night that you and Kendall began to get closer. What seemed like an unpretentious friendship evolved into something more. You have become colleagues, friends and, finally, boyfriends. They were difficult years, marked by relapses of both and by Kendall's constant effort to get back up. Despite this, you remained together, supporting each other.

But the night Kendall asked you to marry him brought a devastating turn. You left dinner overflowing with joy to tell your brother the news, but you found him unconscious in your apartment. The overdose was fatal. What should be a new beginning also became the end of an important part of his life.

The devastating loss increased the pressure of your father, who wanted you to take on the role of CEO of the family business, something you always avoided. He also showed support for his marriage to Kendall, but his real intentions involved uniting families to strengthen his power, which filled her with revolt. Since then, you have kept your distance from your family, although his pressure has never ceased.

Kendall remained by your side, putting her own pain aside to help you get through the grief. Although the loss has never been completely overcome, it has become more bearable in the company of someone who understood the weight of carrying difficult memories.

When they got married, the lives of both fit in a surprisingly quiet way, considering the chaos that surrounded them. You chose to stay out of the power dispute at Waystar, which helped maintain the balance between work and marriage. Still, working under the same roof, with Kendall technically as his boss, brought challenges. Some tensions inevitably overflowed to domestic life, but you learned how to deal with it.

That morning was a perfect example of the controlled chaos that you and Kendall had learned to master. Since Logan's death, Waystar had become an arena of constantly burning egos, with Kendall, Shiv and Roman competing to make decisions while sewing the deal with Lukas Matsson. For you, the frenetic pace was nothing new. But that day, it seemed that everything was amplified.

Kendall had left early, leaving you with some precious minutes in bed that, although comforting, ended up devoured by the avalanche of messages and notifications on her cell phone. When he arrived at the office, he was already one step behind, and this did not go unnoticed. He didn't even have time to spend in Roman's room, where he and Lukas were gathered. Not that you wanted to get more involved than necessary - your role there was more strategic, and you knew exactly when to withdraw and when to act.

While packing the pile of papers I would need to discuss with Kendall, the phone on his desk vibrated. It was a message from him with a typical urgency. You sighed, already gathering what you needed, while answering a call from an external lawyer who seemed unable to understand something simple.

The heels of your shoes hit rhythmically against the carpet as you crossed the corridor. The sound echoed in the open spaces of the floor, a clear sign of his haste. In that environment, everyone seemed to be always watching each other, like animals in a corporate zoo.

When passing through Roman's room, he noticed Lukas gesturing at a glance, but did not pay attention. It was no news that he was there. Inside, Lukas interrupted the sentence itself when you passed, his eyes fixed on you long enough for Roman to notice.

- When I buy all this shit, will I have assistants like her? - Lukas shot, a cheeky smile curling his lips as his gaze lingered in the direction where you had just disappeared. The malicious insinuation was clear in every word.

Roman swallowed dryly, the discomfort evident in his expression. I knew Lukas well enough to know that giving any information would only increase his interest. But I couldn't just ignore it either. He needed to stop talking.

- Man, trust me, you wouldn't handle her. - Roman said, launching his typical mixture of humor and sarcasm. - She sees beyond the walls. You probably already know what you think before you open your mouth. It's fucking scary.

Lukas let out a short laugh, but Roman's comment didn't totally disarm him. His thoughts were still stuck in the image of you crossing the office, his hips moving with a grace that seemed almost calculated.

He knew he shouldn't be distracted, not at that moment, but something in you bothered him. It wasn't just the appearance - it was the aura of control, of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

As Lukas turned his attention to the meeting, the malicious smile did not completely disappear. Maybe it was an exaggeration, maybe he was just bored. Or maybe there was something in you that challenged you, without you even knowing it.

You, on the other hand, were completely oblivious to any look that could be cast in your direction. Your mind was too busy with professional issues, and on the personal side, Kendall, although consumed by the obsession with being a CEO, found ways to devote to you all the attention she needed - and sometimes even a little more. He knew how to balance the two worlds when necessary, a trait that you secretly admired in him.

That same day, something not so unusual was about to happen. At work, you always maintained an impeccable posture. Seriousness and professionalism were practically their business cards. You knew the dangers of giving room to gossip or distractions in the corporate environment. But no matter how much I tried to keep things strictly professional, sometimes it was impossible to ignore the magnetic tension between the two of you. He had a unique talent for making you lower your guard, especially when Waystar's building was almost empty.

The day was exhausting and long, a whirlwind of words and numbers that seemed to dance in front of you from the moment you passed by Waystar's concierge. Now, with the floor almost empty and the sky outside dipped in darkness, you and Kendall were sitting side by side on the couch in your living room, trying to decipher the last barrier of a problematic contract.

Kendall's suit had already been abandoned hours ago, and the sleeves of his dress shirt were folded up to the forearms. He was more comfortable. You had also abandoned any formality: the heels were dropped near the sofa, the blazer had disappeared at some point in the day, and you now settled with your legs bent under you, in an almost intimate position, reflecting the tiredness and comfort you felt next to him.

The silence in the room was broken only by the sound of fingers occasionally typing on the notebook keyboard and exhausted sighs. It was Kendall who broke the cycle, rubbing her face with her hands and leaning back on the couch with a heavy sigh, the frustration evident.

You observed the movement, the way he seemed more vulnerable at that moment, and made the decision to end the torture that you yourselves were imposing. With a decisive gesture, you closed the two notebooks in front of you and organized the papers in an improvised pile.

- I think we've done enough for today. - His voice was low, but he had a quiet determination that he didn't dispute.

When you leaned over to reach the table, your skirt went up a few centimeters more, exposing parts of your skin. Despite the evident tiredness, Kendall's gaze automatically slid to you, a spark of interest lighting up in your eyes. He didn't say anything, but the smile that began to play on his lips delivered him.

You leaned back on the couch again, but this time, instinctively, closer to him. His hand went up to the back of Kendall's neck, his fingers tracing small circles on the tense skin, an affectionate and intimate gesture that always made him relax.

- Do we really have to go to his country house this week? - You asked, your voice low and almost resigned, as if you expected him to change something. - Can't Matsson be normal and just do a video conference?

Kendall opened her eyes, turning her face slightly in your direction.

- Do you need a vacation? Because that would be a bad moment. - The provocation came with a tired but sincere smile.

- Well, you couldn't stop me anyway. - You answered in the same tone, a playful smile illuminating your face.

Kendall tilted her head, the expression slightly challenging as she rested her hands on her legs, gently pulling them to be on top of his.

- You know I'm still your boss, don't you? - His provocation was accompanied by a light touch on his knees, his fingers slowly rising up the curve of his thighs, like someone testing the limits.

- Nothing like a good judicial process to put things in perspective. - You replied with a defiant smile.

He let out a low and incredulous laugh, his eyes shining with amusement.

- Are you threatening me? Because, just for the record, my legal group is the best in the country.

You couldn't contain the loud laugh that escaped, the sound echoing through the silent room. Kendall leaned over, his smile growing when he saw his fun.

- What? Do you think I'm kidding? - He continued, still smiling, but now his hands were firmly anchored to your waist, pulling you closer. You didn't notice the exact moment when you ended up completely on his lap, but there was, sitting on your legs, the heat of the bodies of you two filling the small space between you.

- You definitely wouldn't want to face me in a court, Ken. - You murmured, the lowest voice now, but still provocative, while your arms wrapped around his neck.

His hands tightened slightly on his waist, as if they wanted to record the moment in his memory. He tilted his head, his eyes sliding from his lips to the neckline of his blouse, which was now slightly more open because of the position.

You didn't have time to say anything else before he tilted his face and his lips finally met. The kiss started slowly, almost exploratory, but quickly became more intense. His hands slid from his shoulders to his chest, feeling his breathing accelerated as he deepened the kiss.

Some fingers slowly rose under your skirt, dragging the fabric with them, while Kendall pulled you even closer, gluing her hips to his. The movement was deliberate, provocative, and when he pressed you against you, you felt exactly what he wanted you to feel.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt, your fingers sliding down the open collar until you met the heat of the exposed skin, at the same time, his hands went up more, exploring his thighs without any hurry, but with a firmness that made it clear that he knew exactly what he wanted. When the lips parted, it was only for him to go down his jaw and reach his neck, where he began to distribute hot and possessive kisses.

You let out a trembling sigh when he found a sensitive spot near your collarbone. He noticed and lightly bit the area, a satisfied smile forming against his skin when he heard the sound that escaped from his lips.

- You have no idea how much I have to hold back when you wear this fucking skirt. - He whispered against her neck, his warm breath making his skin shiver.

You arched your body, tilting your head to give him more access, while he continued the path over your shoulders, his lips alternating between kisses and soft bites that made you lose control. Unhurriedly, Kendall slid her fingers through the fabric of her blouse, moving it away just enough to expose more of her skin.

- Much better this way. - He murmured against his collarbone, the hot breath making his skin even more sensitive. His hands returned to your waist, pulling you again against him while your lips explored the new piece of exposed skin.

You tried to answer, but your mind was a blur. His every touch seemed to set you on fire, and when he pressed his lips lower, near the beginning of your bra, you couldn't hold a louder sigh.

That's when a noise in the distance interrupted the moment. A low sound, maybe the creaking of a door or quick steps, made you freeze for an instant. Kendall, however, seemed to ignore it completely.

- Ken... - you call, between sighs, your eyes opening more attentively while trying to regain focus. He ignored it, thinking it was just one more of those delicious moans you let out when muttering his name. But your voice became more serious when you pushed his face away, still panting. - Ken, I think there's someone here.

He frowned, reluctantly, his lips still close to his neck while grumbling:

- So what?

You moved away a little, already restless, standing, your eyes trying to cross the darkness of the office beyond the glass walls. Kendall sighed, clearly upset, and accompanied you. He stopped right behind you, his hands automatically returning to your waist as he glued his body to yours, as if the situation were a mere detail that did not require any attention.

- There's no one here, dear. - He murmured in her ear, pressing his lips back on the curve of his neck, ignoring any sound or shadow that might exist.

You closed your eyes for a moment, almost giving in again to the warmth of his hands on your waist and brushing your lips that seemed to want to erase any remnant of your concern. But then the sound came back: something soft, like a hurried movement or the creak of a door in the distance.

- Ken, seriously. - You turned around, putting your hands on his chest, trying to stay firm. - Shall we go home?

He furrowed his eyebrows quickly, his lips curved in a carefree smile that only made it clear how much he thought you were exaggerating.

- Are you really getting me out of here? - he asked, tilting his head while looking at you as if it were a crime to leave things incomplete.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head, but before you could answer, he pulled you by the neck for a kiss, one of those that disarmed any argument. The plan of a quick kiss to convince him was completely lost when he deepened the movement, his hands firm on his waist as he pressed you against his body, with an accuracy that made you forget why they were still there.

Finally, he walked away, the satisfied smile still stamped on his face, and murmured:

- Let's go soon. - He took the suit thrown on the couch with the same energy as someone who wanted to shorten the waiting time, wearing it anyway.

You took the opportunity to take your bag, put on your shoes and turn off the lights. While the door closed behind you and you walked to the elevator, Kendall didn't waste time: a hand slid firmly to his ass, squeezing lightly while he commented something provocative with a cheeky smile.

The way back home seemed longer than usual, every second an agony. His fingers slowly went up his thigh, deliberate, squeezing and sliding, as if he wanted to test his limits.

As soon as the elevator of the building where you lived arrived, the silence between you seemed electric, the air loaded with tension. As soon as the door opened directly to the apartment, Kendall was already pulling you by the waist, closing the space between you as if there was no more time to waste. He pressed you against the wall next to the entrance, his hungry lips on yours, and you responded with equal intensity, your hands grabbing his hair, pulling him closer.

The corridor became a blur as he guided you inside, the two bumping into furniture as if every second mattered. When they got to the kitchen, Kendall didn't hesitate.

- Is this good for you? - He murmured, his voice loaded with sarcasm and desire, his chest pressed against his back, while sliding his hands down his thighs, raising his skirt without ceremony.

You couldn't answer, already completely surrendered to the firm and urgent touches. The kitchen, with its cold tones and the soft street lighting that entered through the windows, became the perfect setting for the outcome of the desire that began in the office.

__________________________

The days before the trip were intense and so full of commitments that time seemed to escape through your fingers. Kendall, you, Roman and Shiv were at a frantic pace, adjusting the last details of the proposal for Matsson during the flight. The atmosphere between you was focused, but Roman's constant interruptions with his jokes did not let the environment become completely wise.

The flight was long and silent. While most of you were immersed in papers or napping, there was a feeling of shared restlessness. You noticed this in Kendall, who drummed her fingers on the arm of the armchair.

When they landed at the small airport, the atmosphere of the destination welcomed them with a humid and cloudy cold. The surrounding mountains seemed to be covered by a thin fog, and the icy wind carried raindrops. Roman, when putting his feet on the ground, looked at the cars waiting for you and, as expected, made a comment:

- Oh, perfect. Who needs a helicopter when you can take an endless trip by car.

During the journey through the winding roads that crossed the mountainous region, the silence in the car was interrupted only by the sound of the windshield wiper fighting against the persistent drops.

When they finally arrived at the place, an imposing and modernist construction emerged in the melancholic landscape. It was isolated, surrounded by tall trees and surrounded by low clouds. Despite the discomfort caused by the cold and rain, the minimalist architecture seemed even more impactful in the scenery.

You and Kendall went out side by side, the body expression of both was neutral, maintaining professionalism. The tense atmosphere of the negotiation seemed combined with the gloomy atmosphere of the place.

Lukas was waiting under the entrance cover. Dressed casually, he seemed completely at ease, as if the hostile weather was just another characteristic of his nature. His eyes soon fell on you, analyzing every detail in a long and not at all subtle way. A brief smile appeared on the corner of his lips, something between interest and curiosity.

He approached to greet the group, extending his hand to Kendall first. Then, his eyes turned to you, and he tilted his head slightly, as if trying to evaluate who you were.

Kendall returned the greeting impassively, and you just kept the same professional countenance, corresponding to the handshake that Lukas offered. Despite not showing any visible reaction, you noticed his insistent gaze on you, as if you were trying to decipher your presence there.

His first impressions of that place ranging from something almost picturesque, ideal for relaxing, to a slasher movie setting. Dense trees surrounded the complex, its branches writhing as if whispering secrets. And the accommodations... Well, these brought a new meaning to "forced intimacy".

The rooms were small, surrounded by glass walls that led to the treetops - and to the rooms of others. There were no curtains, just a dubious concept of "integration with nature". Privacy seemed like a joke.

- What the fuck is this? - you let go, dropping your suitcase in a corner with a slack of disdain. - They put us in a matchbox with transparent walls.

Kendall, already taking off her coat, laughed low and shook her head.

- This guy is too weird to choose this damn place. - But the irritation on his face was obvious. He hated places that escaped the standard of impeccable luxury.

While you were removing your heavy coat, Kendall answered a call from Roman. He left his cell phone on the speakerphone on the table, and his brother's debauched voice took over the environment.

- Damn, are these rooms a social experiment? - Roman began, already with that tone loaded with sarcasm. - Who was the genius who decided: 'Hey, do you know what's going to be great? Glass walls among dysfunctional adults!'.

You suppressed a laugh while Roman continued:

- By the way, you can see you here. Yes, literally. So, please, do me a fucking favor and save the couple's little show for later. Seriously, whatever you do in that bed - I don't know, bite, moan, scream - I don't need a VIP window to watch. My trauma quota is already broken.

- Why don't you just look away? - Kendall replied, frowning, but unable to hide a smile.

- Oh, great plan, Ken! I'll just turn my head and ignore the erotic theater that you two may or may not decide to stage. Like, of course, super simple. It's like asking not to look at a car disaster.

Kendall just hung up with a sigh.

- He never shuts up, does he?

- It's a talent. - You laughed, dropping your coat on the couch and going towards the bathroom.

The bathroom was even tighter. You sighed when you entered, since it wasn't exactly the standard of comfort you were used to. His apartment in New York was practically a sanctuary, where not even a drone would be able to snoop.

The hot water ran down his skin, but there was no way to relax completely. Everything in that place seemed... exposed, at the same time as tiny. When you left the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, you found Kendall sitting on the bed, fiddling with your cell phone with a restained expression of frustration.

- What's wrong? - you asked as you went to your suitcase, taking the clothes you would wear during dinner.

Kendall dropped her cell phone on the bed and rubbed her eyes with her hands, the gesture of someone on the verge of exploding with their own thoughts.

- Nothing, just rereading some things. - He replied, looking up at you. The smile that emerged was subtle, but carried a malicious trace.

- What kind of "things"? - you asked, pulling a black wool blouse out of the suitcase.

He tilted his head, his eyes walking through you while you chose a heavy coat to complete the look.

- The kind that makes me think that we could pretend we got lost in this shitty place and skip this dinner.

You laughed, shaking your head while wearing your underwear, still feeling the remnant of lightness of the moment they shared. However, as soon as you and Kendall left the room and reached the main corridor, the atmosphere changed. Near the entrance of the hall, they found Shiv and Roman, and the air already seemed loaded with tension. As expected, Roman did not miss the opportunity to break the atmosphere with one of his jokes, full of irony.

- Look, the couple of the moment. - He said, with a crooked smile. - I bet dinner will be the preliminaries for what comes next.

You didn't stop, you just kept walking, your cutting tone escaping naturally.

- Roman, you're talking so much about it that I'm starting to think you're waiting for us to make love in front of you or something like that.

Roman went from surprised to angry, and you could hear the frustration in his voice.

- Fuck you.

You launched a victorious smile, without even looking back. You positioned yourself next to Shiv, following next to her to the table where they would sit while you listened to her tell you about the discoveries about Matsson.

The rhythmic sound of your heels and those of Shiv echoed through the hall as you walked towards the designated table. To the corner of your eye, you noticed Gerri and Carl sitting further down, engaged in a conversation that seemed casual. Gerri threw a polite smile in your direction, and you reciprocated, without thinking too much, before continuing to walk next to Shiv.

However, as soon as you passed, Carl leaned slightly towards Gerri, the unmistakable provocative tone.

- Still trying to make friends, huh?

Gerri kept the smile on his face, but the sarcasm in his voice was cutting.

- I still can't believe this bitch got so much power just by fucking one of Logan's children.

Carl gave a muffled laugh, his gaze dancing between Gerri and his figure, now on his way to the table.

- Well, it's not like you haven't tried something similar either, right?

Gerri sighed deeply, as if the conversation was more exhausting than necessary.

- Fuck you, Carl.

You, oblivious to the poison exchanged behind you, went to the table with Shiv, focused only on the dinner you were about to start.

Dinner was a mixture of forced formality and disguised tensions. The expensive dishes were served in silence interrupted only by the strategic conversations between the sides of Waystar and GoJo. You were calm, oblivious to any subtext that surrounded the table. He answered Matsson's questions succinctly when he tried to involve you in discussions about his area of expertise, remaining strictly professional. His clear and objective answers left little room for any other interpretation.

On the other side of the table, Roman watched everything with the usual restless attention. It didn't take long for him to realize that Matsson's eyes wandered to you more often than necessary. It was subtle, but it was there - the look that lasted a little longer when you spoke, the pause before he returned to paying attention to what Kendall or Shiv were saying.

He spent dinner rolling his eyes at himself. "Really, Lukas? Do you want to fuck her now? At a dinner? With Kendall right there?" He thought, trying to decide whether to intervene with some comment or just let the show roll. In the end, he remained silent, but the tension did not go unnoticed.

Dinner was over, and conversations flowed in small groups scattered around the hall. You ended up cornered by Greg, who, with his innate ability to turn any topic into an endless monologue, was talking about something that involved compliance systems and a documentary that no one else seemed to have heard of. You nodded from time to time, let out a "Is it really?", while thinking about how to get out of there.

Finally, you asked for permission, a polite smile on your lips, but in a hurry enough not to give him room to insist. The cold air outside was an immediate relief, and you pulled your coat closer, taking the silver cigarette wallet out of your pocket. The sound of the lighter breaking the silence was almost comforting as the smoke spread around him.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn't hear the steps approaching until a low voice full of irony sounded behind you.

- Do you mind offering me one of these?

You turned around slightly, finding Lukas Matsson standing there, the smile half crooked on his face, the expression too casual to be innocent.

- Of course. - You answered, handing him the wallet and the lighter. He took a cigarette, lit it calmly, and the flame of the lighter briefly lit up his face before he released the first long puff.

For a few seconds, silence reigned, only the sound of the embers burning filling the space. So, he broke the moment:

- So, what's your story? Did they throw you into this last-minute deal or was it just a strategic move that no one noticed?

You let out a low laugh, bringing it again while answering:

- I don't think your team did homework as well as you think. - There was an ironic tone in his voice, but nothing exaggerated. - I've always been involved. I only prefer to avoid the spotlight when I can.

Matsson gave a short laugh, leaning more relaxed against the wall, but his eyes never left you.

- You know, that's funny. - he said, releasing another drag. - It seems that the more time I spend with you, from Waystar, the more I wonder how Logan kept this shit all together.

You kept a polite smile, but you didn't get more involved than necessary.

- He knew exactly how to deal with each piece on the board.

He arched an eyebrow, interested.

- And you? Is it just another piece... or is it the one who moves the others?

His words came loaded with a subtext that you preferred to ignore. Your smile didn't falter while you put out the cigarette on the stone guardrail in front of you.

- I'm more for someone who guarantees that the board remains whole.

Matsson laughed softly, shaking his head.

- Between us, if Kendall had introduced me to you before, I would have signed any contract he asked for.

You stopped in the middle of the gesture of putting out the cigarette, crossing your arms instinctively. The short laugh that escaped was dry, almost sharp.

- This is somewhat inappropriate, considering the context.

Matsson tilted his head, a smile that was half fun, half provocation forming on his lips.

- Don't worry, it just makes everything more... interesting.

The comment made something turn in your stomach. His disconnection from the seriousness of the situation was as absurd as it was annoying. For him, it seemed like a game, a casual provocation, but you felt the weight of the inadequacy. Taking a step back, you adjusted your coat with calculated calm before answering firmly:

- Well, I think I've spent too much time outside.

He didn't move, he just kept smiling in that almost defiant way, as if he was testing his limits. You turned around and started walking back, but the discomfort persisted. Even without looking, it was impossible to ignore the weight of his gaze burning on his back.

When he got close to the salon, he saw Kendall, and the relief was immediate. Approaching, you lightly touched his arm and murmured something quick. He nodded, casting a discreet look at you before continuing his conversation.

As you left the room, you could feel Matsson watching everything from afar, his eyes fixed on every movement. What did he think he was doing? The confusion hung over you as you went up to the room, trying to remove the discomfort of that interaction.

After dinner, when most people were already starting to disperse, Matsson called Shiv, Roman and Kendall to his office. The room was minimalist, with dark wooden furniture and soft lighting that seemed to cast more shadows than clarity.

Roman, as usual, did not miss the chance to make one or two comments that made him laugh, while Shiv kept a clinical look at Lukas' roles and words. Kendall was attentive, but calm, following each point with a meticulous focus.

When the subject of the agreement finally sold out, Roman was the first to get up, with

Shiv going right behind. Kendall, in turn, mentioned accompanying them, but Matsson's voice interrupted him, casual, but firm.

- Kendall, stay a little longer. I want to exchange an idea with you.

Kendall stopped halfway, looking at the brothers. Shiv hesitated for a moment, narrowing his eyes, but ended up leaving without saying anything. The door closed with a soft click, leaving the two alone.

Lukas went to the bar in the corner of the room, the steps deliberately slow. He took a bottle of whiskey and poured two glasses, handing one to Kendall before casually leaning back on the counter. His smile had that ambiguous quality - friendly, but provocative.

- You know, you have an interesting team. - He started, turning the glass in his hand. - A little... predictable, maybe, but interesting.

Kendall laughed low, almost automatically, while taking a sip.

- Yeah, they do what they need to do.

Lukas tilted his head slightly, his smile deepening.

- Someone from your team caught my attention.

Kendall raised an eyebrow, curious, but still relaxed.

- Really?

- Yes. - Lukas took another sip, savoring the moment. - An assistant of yours, I imagine. She tried to stay professional, but... fuck, what a woman.

Kendall laughed lightly, shaking her head as if the situation were an internal joke.

- I didn't know she was your type.

Matsson arched his eyebrows, as if he were facing something too obvious to be discussed.

- Are you slutty? Damn, the woman is fucking hot. I tried to start a conversation, but she didn't make it easy.

Kendall let out a more genuine laugh now, completely certain that Matsson was talking about Jess. He imagined the assistant, who always seemed shy and out of place, trying to avoid the company's buyer.

- Well, that probably blew her mind. This kind of situation is not exactly her strong point.

Matsson shrugged, the smile loaded with subtext.

- Maybe. But nothing that a little... persistence can't solve.

Kendall still laughed, not realizing the true focus of the comments.

- Okay, good luck with that.

Matsson raised the glass, as if toasting to the "challenge", but the malicious glow in his eyes suggested much more. Finally, he changed the subject, but the tension in the air persisted, hovering between the two as something that would not be easily dissipated.

__________________________

The next morning, as soon as Kendall appeared, Roman intercepted him right on his arrival for breakfast, looking more curious than worried.

- So, Ken, what did Matsson want with you yesterday?

Kendall sighed, already anticipating Roman's insistence. In addition to having been briefly frightened by the abrupt arrival of his brother.

- Relax, man. I won't sell the company without you. - Kendall answers with a light smile with a humorous tone.

Roman, however, rolled his eyes, impatient.

- What did he want?

Kendall hesitated for a moment, but ended up letting out a short laugh while lowering her tone of voice.

- No big deal. He just wanted to talk about an assistant of mine.

- Assistant? - Roman narrowed his eyes, his expression confused.

- Yeah, I don't know, Jess. He said he thought she was hot or something like that. - Kendall gave a light laugh. - Surprising, right? Like, who would have thought?

Roman blinked, the plug suddenly falling, and his expression became incredulous. He grabbed Kendall's arm, pulling him away from curious ears.

- Ken, are you serious? - Kendall frowned in confusion, with no answer to what her brother meant by that. After all, why would he lie about that?

Roman rubbed his face, as if he needed a moment to reorganize his thoughts.

- Man, I hate being the bearer of the bad news, but... he wasn't talking about Jess.

Kendall kept not understanding, already getting impatient.

- What the fuck do you mean by that?

Roman lowered his voice even more, but the tone carried all the drama that only he knew how to apply.

- He was talking about your wife, Ken.

Kendall's face hardened, the laughter disappeared immediately.

- What?

- Do you remember that day at Waystar? He saw her passing by and, fuck, I swear, the guy almost drooled on the glass of my living room. It was so uncomfortable that I had to invent something on the spot.

- And what did you say, Roman? - Kendall asked slowly, her eyes narrowed.

Roman raised his hands, half defensive, half cynical.

- I said she was your assistant, okay? I thought you were helping. The guy was literally looking at her as if it were dessert.

Kendall ran her hand over her face, taking a deep breath, as if she wanted to punch a wall.

- Did you say she was my assistant?

- Yes, because Lukas was one step away from asking for her number. You know how he is. I thought I was playing fair for you. I thought that, because I was an assistant, he would lose interest, I don't know.

Kendall closed her eyes for a moment, as if she was counting to ten.

- And now he thinks he can talk to me about it as if it were a trophy he wants to conquer?

Roman shrugged, casting an almost apologetic look.

- Welcome to the world of Lukas Matsson. He's a cretin with an ego the size of fucking Norway.

Roman patted Kendall's shoulder before walking away, but Kendall stood still for a moment, looking at the floor, clearly trying to decide what her next step would be.

The worst was not only Matsson's behavior, but what it meant. It was a constant reminder that he was, of his own free will, about to deliver everything: Waystar, ATN, the legacy that his family carried, no matter how sick it was.

Kendall tried to focus on work for the rest of the day, but it was impossible to ignore. Whenever Matsson made a comment that seemed on the verge of something inappropriate, Roman exchanged tense glances with Kendall, as if he was expecting an explosion at any moment.

And, of course, there was the ATN.

Kendall knew that selling Waystar was already a complicated decision, but including ATN in the package? That was simply handing over all the weapons to the enemy. With the presidential elections coming, the ATN was more than a tool; it was a weapon of influence on a large scale. Leaving that in Matsson's hands was giving him a power that not even Logan would have dared to deliver.

___________________________

That same night, Kendall finally consolidated his decision. He knew that Shiv would never support him in this plan, so he went straight to what really mattered: convincing Roman. Manipulating her brother, twisting the arguments until they made sense to both of them, was something Kendall did with the skill of someone who had spent his whole life watching Logan. And, like Logan, he felt no remorse for leaving Shiv out. She was brilliant, but also mercilessly practical, and at this moment, Kendall needed something more emotional, something that only Roman could offer.

The next day, the morning was tense, but Kendall barely seemed to notice. He maintained his professional posture, and when the right time came, he set up the scene. During the meeting on a mountain trail, he pressured Matsson with insinuations about the fragility of GoJo's numbers and the potential increase in Waystar's value. It was a dangerous dance, but Kendall knew exactly where to step to make Matsson hesitate. The plan was moving slowly, but accurately.

At night, after dinner, Kendall was visibly closer to you. Throughout the day, he had left small gestures of proximity: his hand resting on the lower part of your back while you moved through the hall, one arm on the back of your chair. It was atypical for him, and you were surprised, but you didn't complain.

Already in the room, the dim light of the lamp next to the bed barely illuminated the room, but it was enough to highlight Kendall's tense expression as he closed the door behind him. He walked up to you slowly, his fingers running through his hair in an automatic gesture of frustration, before letting the weight of his body fall on the edge of the bed.

- Roman is with me - he said, without preamble, his gaze fixed on the floor. He tilted his head to you, his eyes softer, but still full of concern. - That's already something.

You frowned, closing the book you had in your hands and putting it aside.

- Okay, but what exactly are we talking about here?

He sighed, rubbing his face with both hands before turning completely to you. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost conspiratorial:

- I'm going to screw this deal. Make Matsson give up even before he gets to the council.

Your stomach jumped a little with the confidence in his voice, but you kept the expression neutral.

- And how do you intend to do that? - he asked, hesitantly.

- Force the bar. Inflate the numbers. Throwing enough shit on the table until he thinks it's not worth it.

You were silent for a moment, processing everything he had just said. It was risky, of course, but the part of you who knew the game well knew it wasn't impossible. Still, there was something in his tone, in his gestures, that suggested that he wanted more than just his approval.

- Ken... - you started, but he cut you off.

- And you? Do you have another idea? Because, honestly, I'm open to suggestions.

He hesitated. Of course there was something - the letter that no one else seemed to be thinking about. But it was risky. Not only for Kendall, but for you too.

- It's not exactly conventional - you started, carefully choosing the words. - But we've done things like this before.

He raised an eyebrow, a small smile thrown on his face.

- Okay, before your father passed away he kind of chose the next president, didn't he? Maybe... If you ensure that one of the candidates wins, but on the condition that the agreement is barred...

- Politics? - He laughed softly, more out of disbelief than humor. - Are you suggesting that I use ATN to create a political advantage and bar Matsson?

- And why not? The ATN takes care of him being elected, and everything is very simple: an election for favors to Waystar.

He didn't answer immediately. He was just looking at you, his eyes loaded with something difficult to decipher, as if he was evaluating not only the weight of your words, but you whole. Then, suddenly, a slow smile formed, that typical Kendall expression when an idea consumed him completely. Without warning, he leaned over and pressed his lips against yours almost desperately, as if you had just delivered the solution to all his problems.

- Damn, I fucking love you. - He murmured, his forehead touching yours while a small smile still hovered on his lips.

You couldn't avoid a laugh, half surprised, half enchanted, but full of the lightness that he seemed so desperate to feel.

At the same time, in Matsson's office, Shiv entered with a confidence almost identical to Kendall's, carrying on his shoulders the posture of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

Shiv entered Lukas Matsson's office with calculated steps, like someone who knew the weight of his own presence. He was at the bar, absently fiddling with a bottle of whiskey, but turned around when he saw it. A provocative smile appeared almost immediately.

- Oh, Roy who really knows what he's doing. What an honor.

She ignored the sarcasm, approaching with the usual posture: absolute confidence. Shiv knew he loved a power game and wanted to make him confused about what piece she represented on that board.

- We need to talk, Lukas. Of course, my brother is... complicating things.

He poured himself a glass and offered her another one, which Shiv accepted without taking his eyes off him.

- Complicating? - He arched an eyebrow, leaning casually. - It's a polite way of saying that he's trying to fuck with the agreement.

- Well, considering the circumstances, it doesn't surprise me.

Matsson tilted his head, interested.

- Circumstances?

Shiv turned the liquid in the glass, taking his time to choose the words. She knew that the next move would be crucial.

- Before we go for this, I want something from you.

He laughed briefly, surprised by the audacity.

- Like what?

- A guarantee that, if I help you, my place in all this will be solid. No unexpected turnaround, no last-minute change of plans.

Lukas blinked, clearly intrigued.

- Are you serious?

- Always. - She took a sip of the whiskey. - You need someone who knows how to deal with things... and I need to know that, at the end of this, I won't be just a pawn.

Shiv observed his reaction with a subtle smile, as if he knew exactly the direction the conversation would take. She leaned back in the chair, keeping her eyes fixed on Lukas, while he still seemed to process her proposal. She had the feeling that he was beginning to realize the weight of his words, but still not enough to accept the offer without question.

- And what are you going to give me in return, then? - Lukas asked, more genuine now, as if the negotiation had begun.

She didn't hesitate.

- Kendall. - The word fell like a silent command, and she watched him, seeing the surprise twinkle in her eyes.

- Kendall? - He repeated, the disbelief evident in his voice.

- I want you to keep him in control. I'll help you deal with it, keep it more... tied to the agreement. But what I need is to know that my role in your structure will be clear and definitive. I'm not someone who submits to uncertainties.

Lukas was silent for a moment, watching her more intensely now. He realized that the conversation was not only about business, but about power and control. Shiv wasn't there to ask for favors, she was negotiating something much more valuable.

- And what do you think I need to know exactly? - Lukas asked, leaning forward. He seemed to want to better understand what was at stake, but something in the way he looked at her said that he was also considering the impact of this for himself.

- Something about Kendall, of course. But also about who he has next to him. You know, his wife is not just another woman in the equation. She's... strategic. Before being Kendall's wife, she already had influence, an influence that is not seen in the media, but that is very real. Politics, maybe. Real power, not this spotlight show you love. And, of course, she was always his right-hand man, helping him get where he got.

Matsson was silent, his expression changing as he assimilated Shiv's words. He tried to connect the pieces, and the surprise soon turned into a smile of recognition.

- I'll make sure Kendall doesn't destroy the agreement. I'll help you keep him on the right track. And in the end, you'll need someone like me to make sure everything goes as planned.

Lukas was silent for a moment, evaluating her, before giving a low laugh, full of understanding.

Lukas let out a short and incredulous laugh, his smile widening.

- Damn, you Roy really hate your own family, don't you? - He said, the sharp sarcasm, but his eyes shining with something darker, almost fascinated.

Shiv tilted his head slightly, an ironic smile touching his lips.

Without saying anything else, she deposited the empty glass on the table with a slight click, keeping her gaze fixed on him for a moment that seemed to last longer than necessary. So, he got up with the calculated grace of those who always know the next move and walked out of the room, leaving Lukas with the trail of his presence and the sound of his jumps echoing in the silent space.

After Shiv's departure, Lukas Matsson remained motionless for a few moments, his gaze fixed on the door she had closed behind him. A slow smile formed on his lips, but it wasn't just satisfaction - it was something deeper, almost voracious. You.

Kendall's wife.

Lukas got up from the couch and walked to the window, the whiskey glass turning in his hand. He stared at his reflection in the glass for a moment, his breathing a little heavier. There was something electric, a mixture of irritation, fascination and a barely disguised excitement.

With a quick movement, he took his cell phone in his pocket and typed his name. In seconds, the information appeared: the first photo showed you next to Kendall at an event, the haugty look, a perfect smile, but distant. He narrowed his eyes, analyzing every detail of the image.

He moved on to the next photo. You alone, greeting some big guy at a formal event. Impeccable posture, wearing power as if it were a second skin. The almost non-existent smile was just enough to comply with the protocol.

A wave of irritation passed through Lukas. How had your team let something so grotesque pass? They had done a thorough research on Kendall and all his surroundings, but they hadn't realized that the person next to him was more than a wife.

Another article caught his attention, and he clicked. Your maiden's last name. Political connections. Zero direct involvement with the media, but an evident reach in other circles of power. Lukas laughed dryly, almost incredulous. You didn't need Waystar to be relevant.

He found another photo. You in a tight dress, walking alone to an event. Every line of his body seemed designed to exude control and elegance. Lukas pressed his lips, his jaw contracting. How did Kendall get someone like that? The thought hit him hard, a mixture of mockery and indignation.

He rested his hand on the bar, the smile on his face now a mixture of contempt and challenge. Kendall, with all her flaws and insecurities, had conquered something that seemed so out of reach. Maybe that was luck. Or maybe it was you.

The heat of the whiskey burned his throat, but it was not enough to relieve the tension that grew in his body. Every detail about you was like a piece of a puzzle that he wanted to assemble. How could someone so strategic, so imposing, be next to someone as pathetic as Kendall?

Leaving his cell phone aside, Lukas leaned back at the window, his gaze fixed on the horizon. You weren't just a challenge.

_______________________________

A/N: Okay, I know we ran over some things here, but I just couldn't contain my obsession, sorry!! 🫠

masterlist

xoxo, bebe🫶🏼💕

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luvsthanos · 2 years ago

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prompt list

requests or open!

1: “i think i might be in love with you”

2: Saying something flirty mid-fight which catches them off guard, giving you the perfect oppurtunity to strike

3: "I won't go easy on you" and "I don't want you to"

4: "Didn't know you liked being pinned to the ground this much"

5: “Do you want me to slow down for you?”

6: “I can keep going.”

7: “I fucking hate you.”

8: “Oh, fuck. say that again.”

9: "hold my hand" and "absolutely not"

10: "Oh, come on! Don't act like you care!"

11: Never do that again. Please"

12: "Say it, you love me."

13: "Because I want to hear it from that pretty mouth of yours."

14: "Please don't push me away, I love you."

15: "What if someone sees us?"

16: "But I don't care about what anyone else thinks”

17: "You're not my dirty little secret. And I never want you to think that."

18: "We should kiss, Right now."

19: "I have a key, it's not breaking an entering,"

20: "who's apartment are we in?"

21: "Shh! They’ll hear us!"

22: "Get behind me"

23: “Come over here and make me.”

24: “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

25: “Your mouth says you don’t like me but the way you stare at me tells me everything I need to know.”

you can also make up something an request it if you’d like<3

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bowieandqueen11 · 2 years ago

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What Is Mine / Shiv Roy Imagine

Request: hiii! i don’t know if you write for shiv but if you do could you please do jealous shiv? love your writing 🫶🏼

I literally need to write about Shiv at her mom’s wedding because she looked so good in those episodes my ass is shaking omg

If you enjoy, please let me know! I’m so anxious about writing things like this, and the kind comments really do make the world of difference :)

Warning: mentions of smoking, strong language and NSFW! This is for 18+ peeps only please!

(I do not own Succesion or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @alicentsargent.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

'Do you remember the first time we met?’

A chill shudders over your shoulders at her words, a colder thrill than the Tuscan’s drooping sunset could ever bring passing through your body. Shiv’s watching you from the cushioned rattan sofa, her smouldering eyes blazing from behind the glow of her lit cigarette. She takes another drag, slowly, surely, before asking you the question again. ‘Do you?’

‘Of course I do’, you answer, self assured. The edge of Shiv’s lips tilt up in a portentous half-smirk, discerning the slight tremble behind your words. She knows she’s winning, watching you pluck the cigarette from her fingers and place it into your own mouth without breaking your eye contact. ‘It was at one of your father’s faux fundraiser events, and you had nearly stomped on me with your heels to get up on that stage and talk solely about your own endeavours. What a night.’

‘Do you also remember what I said to you that night, after I picked your jaw up of the floor?’

‘Was that when you were talking, or when you were screaming?’, you reply with a self-assured shrug.

‘Oh...cute.’ She grabs onto your hand, and if she can feel the way your fingers tremble as she brings them closer and closer to her lips, she doesn’t let on. Instead, she’s very calculated in her movements; she lets her pointer finger drag heavily down the back of your knuckle, making sure that her perfectly manicured nail scratches pleasantly against your skin. Therefore, when she brings the cigarette back to her mouth, the simultaneous feel of her tongue dragging over the same spot is enough to elicit a shudder that has you clenching your legs together. She finishes with a final wipe of her inner lips against the tip of your middle finger, before finally placing the filtered end between her teeth.

‘It was somewhere between you trying to weasel your way into my private conversations to pilfer my contact list’, she says with an incredulous shake of her head, ‘and you pleading for me in that quaint little coat room while I had you pinned to the wall.’

She lets you go, and you do your best to hide the wild hammering of your heart against the confines of your ribcage by reaching down onto the floor and taking a sip from the champagne flute that had long been abandoned. Caroline had handed it to you, grabbing one for each of you on her way past a waiter and back down to the first floor of the bar. ‘You’re going to need it with her’, she had whispered with a closed mouth into the side of your ear, before giggling and waving you off ostentatiously. Turns out, she hadn’t been wrong.

‘Anything... more specific? I have no idea what you’re talking about’, you say, an outright lie. You’re doing your best not to pant at the memory, but your hand fists the cushion you’re sitting on even despite your best efforts to control your muscles.

‘Oh, I’m sure.’ She grinds her bottom teeth, and leans back against the cool stone, her stature solid and impenetrable. ‘I told you, I don’t let go of what is mine.’

Her eyes narrowed at you, watching the every micro expression that flitted across your anxious face like a cobra waiting to strike, to swallow its prey whole without another noise disturbing the night.

‘I don’t appreciate my fucking calls not being returned, Y/n. And then I have to turn on the news, and see you fucking - tongue tap dancing with Kendall on every god damn channel?’

‘Hey, you never said we were exclusive’, you remind her, deciding to meet her unwavering gaze head on. Your response makes the muscle in her jaw twitch, as if she had been smacked clean across it, and yet she has no fire, no ammunition with which she can return the assault. You’ve managed to past her first defensive.

‘I told you’, you warned, shaking your pointer finger at her and hitching your breath at the way she frowned as loose ashes brushed over the bare skin of her thigh, left by the slow ride up of her dress. ‘I warned you, if you allow feelings to become entangled in this - in us - things were always going to get messy. I didn’t fall in love with you.’ You stop to take another languid drag, relishing in the fury that flashed across her piercing eyes. The way her legs were starting to listlessly move across her cushion, fingers tapping harshly against the granite stone her elbow had been leaning on. The scratches were beginning to chip into the structure, but she couldn’t care less. As she carefully placed her leg up, crossing her ankle across her other leg and making her dress ride fully up until they were nearly straddling her panty line, she was intent on making you more entranced than entrancing.

You flit your eyes back up from where you were obviously caught staring at the seams of that tight dress... so goddamn tight it takes all your self-control to instead smother the want flexing in the pit of your stomach, to instead shove the butt of the cigarette out by the waning candle. ‘I didn’t fall in love, first’, you finally mutter out, correcting yourself. ‘You did.’

‘Bullshit.’ Her reply is curt. Harsh. Cutting. But she has you. She knows she has you, and she makes no mistakes as she widens her legs just that little further and stretches her arms back on the seat behind her. Your breath hitches at the sight as her dress finally curls up to rest against her hips, the fabric stretching along with her movements until you can see the soft flesh of her inner thigh. She smirks over at you, before nonchalantly picking up her phone and glancing her eyes over the home screen as if she has no idea what game she’s playing.

‘You really can’t help it, can you?’, she finally states after a moment of intense silence. She glances back up at you, and the desire that hardened like slate in those soul-piercing pupils as they widened was enough to ensure your blissed destruction. ‘You can’t help but come begging like a fucking dog anytime a Roy calls you, you’re that hungry for the attention. Is that what you are? My fucking pet?’

She feels the edges of your fingertips brush over the top of her knee almost imperfectibly, like a brave little rabbit placing its paw in the hunter’s beartrap.

Gotcha.

Before you can pull away, she pounces, and sinks her teeth straight into the pulse point on your neck. She hooks your chin between her two pointer fingers, and makes you look straight into her wild eyes. ‘You want to kiss me right now, don’t you?’ Go on, lie to me. Lie to my face, I fucking dare you.’

You can’t help but stare at the way her mouth purses together as she sounds out vowels, at the way her bottom lip seems to plump out when she clicks out her y’s. It’s bewitching, and you can’t help but lose all pretences and just nod away, moving her hand along with your head. ‘Yes’, you manage to whisper out in a shaky breath. ‘God yes, I do.’

She had your tongue swirling around your mouth before you could even take another breath. You gasp into her open mouth as her top teeth clash against your own, and her tongue tickles a sensitive spot against the roof of your mouth. Without even breaking the hold she has on your chin, she’s clambering over you like a lion pawing its way between your warm flesh, until your head hits the hollow button of the cushion.

You reach a hand up tentatively, dancing your fingers along the right strap of her dress, enjoying the way her mouth breaks away from you at the feel. She needs the air to gasp, throwing her head back and closing her eyes in bliss and your hand wanders down to trail over her neck, before gingerly squeezing the top of her breast through the thin material. She’s so plump, and silky as you try to dip your fingers down the cup, but she’s quick to grab onto it. She needs the control, and so she pins your hand up by the side of your head, before leaning her stomach down until its pressing firmly onto your torso. The weight is bliss, but the way your goose bumps alight with sparks of electricity as her mouth instead decides to suck right under the shell of your ear is heavenly. The warm feel of her breath panting in quick darts against your neck is just an added bonus.

What Shiv had forgotten, though, was that you still had one hand free. She nearly gasps into the bottom of your jaw, her whole body jolting forward and sending a shudder of desire coursing down to the pit of your stomach as you reach a hand round to cup the firm flesh at the bottom of her buttocks. You squeeze, and the way her lips shudder open is almost sinful. She’s so tantalisingly beautiful, that while she’s trying to regain her composure you can’t help but run your hand over the thick curve of her backside, making her bite her bottom lip until it nearly bleeds as your fingers begin to curve one by one under the material. As they round the edges, you use your pointer finger to teasingly run over the fine cotton of her underwear, making her press her groin more harshly down against your own, and slipping your hand only all the more further into her dress.

‘Gosh, looks like I’m interrupting something! I thought this was supposed to be my bachelorette party!’

You nearly throw Shiv off you, doing your best to stand up and look presentable as the shadowy outline of Caroline steps out onto the balcony and comes more into view. Shiv looks almost distraught, more disgusted at her mother as he frowns and conscientiously clambers back up to a prim stand. Caroline just wraps her shawl tighter around her shoulders, a knowing grin on her face as she looks over between her daughter, and then back at you. She can’t decide who she’s more willing to rip apart first.

‘But then, you always did want what everyone else had, didn’t you darling? I’ll take the strawberry ice cream and a brand new ‘Mercedes’ too!’, she snickers out, raising her hand to hide her growing smile. Shiv just sighs and rolls her eyes, fumbling the bottom of her dress until it rested comfortably down the middle of her legs again.

‘Did you want something, mom, or were you running out of people inside to peck the eyes out of?’

‘Ooh, don’t get smart with me now missy’, Caroline wags her finger, but she’s obviously enjoying having someone to spar with again. You just clench your eyes shut and pray this nightmare will finally end. Thankfully, someone hears your prayers.

‘The driver’s just called to say the cars are pulling round now, so I’m heading back to the villa. Young Willa has been ever so kind agreeing to ride and have a chat with me. I’m just dying to hear about how Connor’s campaign is going’, Caroline finishes with a snicker, before turning around and beginning to head back to the bustle. ‘Don’t be too long now! If people wonder where you’ve gone, I’ve only got one or two good excuses up my sleeve. I’ve already used the ‘she chose her father’ one too many times.’

‘Yeah - thanks, mom’, Shiv waves her off, before placing her hands on her hips and turning to face you. She pouts, looking up at the silvery pockets of stars and clenching her phone in her hand.

‘I suppose’, she starts with a drawl, sticking out her thumb into the dim lit-street that lies below, ‘that we can... finish this discussion back in the car.’

You nod curtly, doing your best to smooth out the collar of your shirt before Caroline made any more shrewd comments. Shiv bites her bottom lip, popping it out with a wet catch of her teeth, before smiling over her shoulder at you. She walked out towards the doorway, thanking a server who stepped back to let her through. She was pretending she didn’t want to look back, knowing that the way she was swaying her hips back and forth with each click of her heel was enough to make you come sprinting down the spiral staircase after her.

It wasn’t long before the other passenger side door of the limousine flew open, and the partition with the driver’s side went flying up. It was a little longer, however, before your car arrived back at the villa, with Shiv deciding that a few more loops around the back alleys of Tuscany couldn’t hurt anybody, now could it?

#succession #shiv roy #succession imagine #shiv roy imagine #shiv roy x reader #shiv roy smut #succession smut #sarah snook #shiv succession #shiv succession imagine #kendall roy #caroline collingwood #connor roy #willa roy #succession fanfic #succession fanfiction #jealous imagine #jealousy imagine

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hunzzzzz · 7 months ago

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STUCK WITH YOU UPDATE🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

I’m back in my writing era, I’m so back 😩🤚🏼

#kendall roy x reader #Kendall Roy smut #kendall roy fanfiction #kendall roy imagine #smut for our number 1 boy #Kendall Roy ao3 #succession fanfiction #Roman Roy #connor roy #Kendall Roy #willa ferreyra #ao3 fanfic

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nanabrainrot · 2 years ago

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(Don’t) Give Me Lip! [Brat Tamer!Connor Roy]

Brattiness gets you nowhere, but it gets him off at least.

Brat Tamer!Connor Roy/F!Brat!Reader

Warning! This is NSFW and not proofread. It includes: daddy kink, creampie, implied (unspecified) age gap, pussy slapping, and a bit of dom/sub dynamic. Reader is a brat and Connor tried to fix that.

WC: 2271

✎ Love, Connor

It’s not your best moment but his favorite sight: lips split by his cock and throat bulging, head hanging off the bed at you bat at his thighs with useless whines.

You were a bitch. Everyone knew it.

Connor’s girl is a bitch. Her crass lip, scoffs, and fussy attitude. Connor’s girl who whines so childishly to go home, tugging at his sleeve like a mad kid. Connor’s girl who still pouts and pokes her tongue out.

He can deal with that. The way you are in private is enough. It’s just the comment he heard today that bothered him: “He must not be fucking her right if she acts like that.” Followed by someone muttering back, “He probably can’t even get it up.”

The age gap wasn’t the be all end all, but granted you had no grays and his whole head was a mass of gray hair only made the thought simmer, a pot coming to a boil in his belly and stirred by the snarkiness of others. He let you get away with too much.

You’re better quiet like this: mouth stuffed shut.

“Aah, good girl. You’re so sweet like this,” he mumbles between scattered puffy breaths and choked grumbles. He really only told you that you were sweet when you were being fucked good enough to be quiet for once. There was less back talk when you were too stupid to muster up a smart ass quip. You behave better.

That thing you do when you’re all needy pops up just now, bare body twitching with your back against the sheets and whining in squeaks on his wet cock. That back arch. That clench of your toes and unclenching under the thin cotton of your knee socks that you were going to wear to the gym before you gave him lip again.

You wanted to cum. You could cum, if you could palm at your pussy. Your wrists move from clutching at his thighs from where you were batting at them for thrusting too harshly into your little throat - you were seriously going to try and get yourself off?

His hands move from where they were gripping at your tits as you twitched and arched and fly to your moving wrists to lock them by your side. A long whine vibrates against his shaft as you squeal at his sudden movement to deprive you of your orgasm. Each of his hands lock at each wrist to trap them by your hips to the mattress that was steadily creaking as he used your throat as a fleshlight.

“You fuckin’ kidding me? You’re gonna try and play with your pussy after all the shit you’ve been mouthing off all day?” he huffs with a scoff, voice returning to a series of strangles moans as he feels you swallow on his dick. That way you do to get him to cum sooner just to piss him off knowing he wants to keep fucking and fucking and fucking until the sun met the skyline.

“You’re such a - stop swaallowwingg… augh - bitch. Such a brat,” he seethes through clenched teeth tightening his grip so hard your wrists would inevitably bruise, “for no reason. I keep you dolled up and happy and you want to go to the fucking gym in this hooker outfit? Everybody thinks I don’t fuck you right ‘cause you mouth off everywhere all the time.” His hips still, balls sitting on your nose and thick gray pubes tickling your chin. Wrists stuck, you settle for kicking your feet like a tantrum and gagging and squealing. “Stop mouthing off in front of people or I’ll keep fucking this throat like that. Never gonna let you cum, just use your throat like a second pussy ‘til you can’t mouth off…”

A loud little yelp escapes you as he draws his hips back at you pinching his hand that way you do to signify a wordless safeword to go slower, be more gentle. Heaps of spittle coat your face as he pulls back, mascara running down your forehead as you sniffle pathetically with a quivering bottom lip. You pinch again, signifying you want him to let go of your wrists. He does so, raking his hands flat against your arms up to your shoulders then your neck to cup with one hand. His other hand settles on stroking the skin of your shoulder with soothing grazes. The way you were twitching signified you wanted to keep going though, which kept his dick at attention watching the way you tried to steady your breath and form words.

“Con - con, are you really mad a’ me…” you mumbled in broken, breathy words as you twitched.

“No,” he breathed before swallowing to even his breath as his dick drooled your spit onto the hardwood under him, “I think you just needed a lesson; you like to give lip is all…” His eyes glance up to your pussy from your eyes. “If I didn’t love your lips, that’d mean I don’t love all o’ you…” he breathes the last past, removing his hand from your shoulder to touch his shaft.

“Wan’ me to give you less lip, daddy?” you mewl, palms gripping the sheets in case touching yourself got him riled up again and continue punishing you.

“You’re saying that ‘cause you want something, aren’t you?” he smiles. You smile, cheeky, before sliding your tongue across your lips - hungry.

“Maybe…” you giggle, hips wiggling devilishly to draw attention to what laid between your thighs: your neglected pussy.

“If you promise…” he starts with his hand grazing your skin and sitting still on your pussy, cupping it with no pressure to not stimulate you, “I’ll let you cum.”

“No promises.” His eyes darken.

“Brat.”

The first slap makes you yelp loud, hands flying to press at his abdomen as your vision blurred from the sudden abuse of your cunt mixed with your head hanging off the bed upside down (though he was nice enough to support your neck with one of his big hands).

He fucking slapped your pussy.

“Connor!” you squeaked with a gasp at the contact. You let him fuck your throat for half an hour and the most stimulus he finally gives your pussy is a slap.

“You’re being bratty.”

Slap.

“It was a -“

Slap.

“J-Joke!”

Slap.

“Caahnnoorr!” you whined in a high voice, pressing your palms against his midsection to push him away.

“You wanna cum or not? You want me to bruise this throat so you can’t keep mouthing off?”

Slap.

“N-No!”

Slap.

“Oh, you don’t wanna cum? Fine -“

Slap.

“I wan’ah cum, please! I’ll be good! I’ll be good, please! ‘M sorry for being bad, I luh you pleasee let me cum!”

He pauses, his hand still on his shaft, rubbing the tip on your quivering pouty lips.

“Promise you’ll be good?”

You nod into his hand, pressing kitten kisses to his tip pleadingly.

“Promise… cross my heart, daddy, cross my heart…” you whimper soft like a breath or a breeze.

“Okay…” he croons, using the palm cupping your neck to help push you to sit up, “‘m holding you to it, baby.”

You nod, sniffling as you sit up and turn to sit with your legs hanging off the bed, sock-clad toes grazing the hard wood floor between his own bare feet as you looked up at him. It was a sight, a constant one, of your face coated in spit and pre-cum with mascara and makeup ruined and spread across your face. Hair all messed up from the friction of the sheets and lips so puffy from the abuse. You didn’t like being a good girl. It meant he wouldn’t punish you anymore. Promising to be one at least got him to let you cum.

He draws back and sits on a chair nearby, sinking into the soft brown leather of it. He rests his veiny forearms on the arms of it and leans into the back with legs spread - nude with a dripping dick.

“Make yourself cum then.” Your mouth opens and you huff.

“Me? You made my throat hurt!”

“I can just keep fucking your throat ‘til I cum and make you sleep with your throat hurting from being used and your pussy hurting from not being used.”

“That’s not fair!” you grumble, standing on shaky feet and shuffling to him as he lazily pumped his dick.

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” he replied with eyes glazed with lust that ate you from top to bottom. You climb on his lap, hovering your hole over his dick he was still pumping. He really did spoil you, even in bed you never chose to ride him but obliged if he asked - yet you always wound up looking like this as you rode him: lost in pleasure.

Your hands gripping his biceps hard with your lip caught by your teeth to suppress any embarrassingly loud moans. Brows knit with eyes clenched shut as you bounced, tits moving with each effort you could muster to milk him of his cum - use him like a dildo like he used your throat. It never works like that though, as you start to agree with every word he says in your thoughtless pleasure trying to chase the high you were building with every movement that sucked his cock in to kiss your g-spot with his thick leaky tip.

“You like it?”

“Mhm,” you nod vigorously, panting.

“Love it?”

“Mhm!”

“Gonna be good for daddy?”

“Mhm!”

“Gonna be good so daddy keeps fucking this pussy right? So good that daddy fucks you stupid even more than he already does?”

“Uh huh!” you squeak, hips bucking and stuttering to try and get as much of him as you could. Sloppily bouncing as your hips shook and drool slipped out of your puffy parted lips.

“Kiss daddy while you cum. Let you cum on my dick for being so good,” his hand catches the back of your neck hard and pulls you close fast. Your lips clash hard as your hips twitch. Your pussy squeezing him with the hot ridges of your sopping walls - cumming.

You pant, hard, into his mouth. The short and fast breaths escaping your nose fanning the hairs of his top lip, babbling incoherently into his mouth as your tongue keeps darting in and out to try so hard to keep kissing him. “Luh you! Luh you! Ah… lovee you, daddy… I luh you, C-Connor, cum in me? You’ll cum in me, please? Please? I’ll be so good if you fill me up, I’ll be good forever an’ ever… fuck!”

You still, lips hard and still against his as you breath hitches and your convulsing cunt makes a lewd squelch. It sounds like something thick spilling, he could tell you creamed on him by the way your hips kept twitching despite being still and sat on his cock to the hilt with his balls pressed to your ass.

“Stopping? I didn’ cum yet, baby,” he pulls back with that knowing grin before gripping your hips hard and using the force to slide you up his cock. Only to buck and fill you with it again, hard.

You draw back, hands moving from his biceps to sit on his check with stiff arms and staring with wide eyes and a mouth open. You look so beautiful like this.

The hair still messy with spit from facefucking you, tears making mascara coat your cheeks (and forehead from hanging off the bed upside down) and face entirely wet from the spit of having your throat fucked and messily kissing. Trying to be as one as you could be.

Looking at this sight has him following after.

“Cumming.” His hips ram up, balls and dick twitching in your hole as you cream agains, leaving the seat of the leather chair sticky with both of your cum as it leaks out of your convulsing hole.

It’s quiet, no sounds of skin hitting skin or squelching. It’s less about the sense of touch or hearing now, but sight.

He watches your eyes come back from your high as you do that nervous lip bite you do with your palms still against his chest.

“Do I really mouth off too much?”

“A little,” Connor admits, hands stroking your sides in an up and down motion.

He watches your eyes glance away to a lamp nearby, looking shy and guilty as you wriggle on his dick.

“I’m sorry…” you hum in a soft voice.

“‘S okay,” he smiles sweetly and pecking your cheek, “just watch the lip in front of others okay? Heard someone say you talk like that ‘cause I don’t fuck you well enough.”

“Are they crazy?” you huff, “I act all irritable because we’re not in bed 24/7. If you fuck me before those stupid meetings or parties or whatever they are, I’ll be more agreeable…” you glance away. Embarrassment flares again, your stomach fluttering.

“Connor, it’s just hard seeing you all handsome giving out attention…” you mutter, leaning to nuzzle into the nape of his neck, “makes me all jealous…”

You can’t see him smile from where you’re hiding in his shoulder, but you feel the smile as presses sweet kisses to your hair and his hands squeeze your sides reassuringly.

“I got a gala next week, Tuesday at 8. I’ll fuck you 3-6, sound good?” You nod into his shoulder, rolling your hips lazily to relish in the contact as his member softened.

You really were more agreeable, hanging off his arm all giddy and smiley the whole gala. Sometimes rewards work better than punishments.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

my first connor fic !!! sry if my characterization isnt the best its all dirty talk anyway tho so like pardon me. theres almost no connor fics in the tag so here u go old man fuckers <33

#nana writes succession #connor roy x reader #connor roy x you #connor roy x y/n #connor roy x you smut #connor roy x reader smut #connor roy x y/n smut #succession fanfic #succession x reader

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sp1cewr1tes · 1 year ago

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Summary:

Your name is Sonnie Gold, and you have a major, major problem, named Kendall Roy. Desperate to make it in the PR World after graduate school, You applied for an internship working with Jess Jordan and the infamous Kendall. After being hired, Kendall begins to take a liking to you. Before you know it, he has you sucked down his deep, dark, rabbit hole, despite you having a boyfriend that Kendall absolutely loathes. Soon professional lines blur into sexual lines, and Kendall wants you all to himself, doing everything necessary to ensure that you belong to him. The question is...Will you let him take you?

NOTE FROM WRITER:

Hey y'all! First, thank you for reading this. It's my first time posting on Tumblr, but not my first time writing fanfiction. This is a reader insert, but I personally find that POV stories where "you" and "y/n" are used, take me out of the story, so I named you, dear reader, 'Sonnie' and kept the descriptions vague so you can project yourself onto the character!

WARNING: KENDALL IS VERY OBSESSIVE IN THIS. I mean this man is OBSESSED and will do ANYTHING and everything to make you his in the most controlling ways possible. you have been warned ;) If dark romance, drug use, billionaires stalking you, cheating (Spoiler ;) 'You' cheat on your boyfriend Alec with Kendall) and very rough sex makes you uncomfortable, exit now. If not...

Welcome 😈 this is a longggggg story and it's still a work in progress but I have plenty of chapters ( and spice ;) ) to post! Stay tuned...

Chapter 1:

Jess Jordan sat nervously in her boss's ex-wife’s apartment, which was Kendall Roy’s make-shift workspace. This home in the sky was stocked with past relics of his failed relationship with Rava. Jess had been working as his assistant for years now, but advocating for herself still made her feel timid. This time was necessary to do so, more than ever. The pressures of her job were starting to get to her. She desperately needed help and was drowning in the responsibilities she had. And as more scandals began to arise from the Royco family, PR was becoming essential to reign in.

Kendall entered the room, unbuttoning his black sports coat. He sat at his desk and smiled.

“Yes?”

"Kendall, I really think we need to hire an intern to help with our social media and PR," Jess said, trying to sound confident.

Kendall looked between Jess’s eyes, his face stoic. "And why is that, Jess?"

"Well, as you know, your social media presence is crucial to your success. But I'm finding it difficult to keep up with everything on my own. With an intern, we could increase our output and engagement, and ultimately, increase our revenue. And… you need all the help a positive public image can get…respectfully.”

Kendall considered this for a moment. He knew that Jess was an invaluable asset to the company, and if she thought an intern was necessary, then it probably was. "Alright, Jess. You can hire an intern. Maybe make it two. You’ll need to make a convincing argument for the budget." He smiled.

Jess sighed in relief. "Thank you, Kendall. I'll get started right away."

Jess didn't want to tell Kendall yet, but she was considering quitting soon and thought grooming an intern or two would leave room for added support when she was finally ready to depart. So, Jess immediately got to work, sifting through dozens of resumes and cover letters from previous open positions. But as she read through them, one, so far, stood out - Sonnie Gold. She had a great understanding of social media, and her passion for the field shone through in her writing and schooling. Jess knew that she had to interview her.

A few days later, Jess found herself sitting across from Sonnie in a coffee shop near Rava’s apartment. They chatted for a while, and Jess was impressed by Sonnie's knowledge and enthusiasm.

"So, what made you want to apply for this internship?" Jess asked.

"Well, I've always been interested in PR and social media, and I think it's such an important part of a company's success," Sonnie replied. "I'm really excited about the opportunity to learn more and contribute to Kendall’s online presence."

Jess smiled. "That's great to hear. I think you'd be a great fit for the job. Would you like to come in for an interview With Kendall?"

Sonnie's face lit up. "Yes, please! Thank you so much for considering me." They shook hands, and the two departed La Cafe Latte.

Sonnie was excited. She recently had a run-in with a lot of bad luck and was giddy about the opportunity to work for such a huge name in the media industry. She walked in the direction of the subway she needed to take to go home and made her trek to her apartment in Dumbo.

───────────────────────── ♡⋆☆⋆♡ ──────────────────────────

A few days later, Sonnie came in for an interview with Kendall himself at the apartment. Jess was anxious, but she knew that Sonnie was the best person for one of the open positions.

As they sat in Rava’s living room, Sonnie seemed nervous as well.

“Don’t worry,” Jess assured. “You’re going to do great!”

Time seemed to be slugging along as they waited for Kendall to arrive.

Ten minutes passed before he appeared, disheveled. “Oh god…” she muttered under her breath as Sonnie’s leg shook. Admittedly, Sonnie was worried to meet Kendall face to face, but had she paid attention to the news, she would have understood that terror was more appropriate. the Infamous Roy name should have superseded any attempts at ignorance, but alas, Sonnie was hopeful for a chance.

“Sorry for the hold-up,” Kendall muttered as he unbuttoned his sports coat. Dark circles tugged at his sad-looking eyes. A vague smell of stale cologne followed him in. Sonnie eyed her potential new boss as he rummaged through papers on the coffee table before grabbing her resume.

“It’s no problem at all,” she smiled. They made eye contact for the first time and his eyes flickered between her and the papers before settling on her. Jess cleared her throat.

“So tell me—“ Kendall looked back at the paper “—Sonnie, why are you qualified for a PR internship here?”

Sonnie confidently answered his question, impressing him with her knowledge and passion for the subject. The pair chatted about her college experience for awhile, Kendall paying extra attention to the types of extracurriculars Sonnie participated in, such as her Assistantship program in graduate school. This program gave her a lot of good experience in the areas that Kendall needed the most help in. A half hour went by, and his fatigued energy seemed to have dissipated. Kendall grinned and leaned back in his chair, sizing Sonnie up with a gentle smile. “Alright, thank you miss gold. We’ll certainly be in touch.” He stood up from his chair, extending his hand to Sonnie. She stood and grasped it, feeling the heat from his soft palm and gaze all at once. Sonnie thanked the two of them before walking to the elevator and leaving.

Kendall turned to Jess. "I think she's the one. You can hire her."

Jess smiled in relief. "Thank you, Kendall. I know she'll do a great job."

───────────────────────── ♡⋆☆⋆♡ ──────────────────────────

As Sonnie exited Kendall’s outpost, Sonnie walked in a meditative state, contemplating her time at Grad school, which had been brutal. From competitive classmates to downright abusive professors, every day was a struggle.

She was in a highly cutthroat industry, with jobs in her field slowly dying. It was tough launching a career in writing, but Sonnie was hoping, praying, begging a higher power to let this internship work out. She decided if she celebrated tonight, it would manifest the success, and began to call her boyfriend Alec to let him know how well the interview went. He answered immediately. “How’d it go?!”

“I think really, REALLY well.” Sonnie squealed. “Do you want to meet me at that speakeasy near Tribeca to get a celebratory drink?! I’ll tell you more about the interview there!”

“Ugh, I wish babe…I got another long shift at the hospital tonight. But maybe Friday night next week we can do something? I have a lot of studying to do this week with my attending Doctor at the hospital." He waited before blurting "I'm so happy for you!"

Sonnie was bummed. She really wanted to see Alec but was excited at the prospect of seeing him later in the week.

“Thanks, babe! I don’t know if I got it for sure but…I got a good feeling! I think Kendall would be a great boss.” Sonnie shouldered past a group as she continued to make her trek.

“So cool that you’d get to work with the Roy family. My dad’s a big fan of Connor!” Alec exclaimed.

“He’s a con-brain or whatever they call themselves?” Sonnie asked, half giggling.

“Yeah!! My mom is too.”Alec paused before saying, “I’m so proud of you babe.”

Sonnie blushed. “Aw, thank you!”

“Listen, I gotta go but I’ll let you know about Friday, okay?”

“Okay,” Sonnie felt a small twinge of sadness flicker in her heart.

“I’ll talk to you soon, bye beautiful!”

“Bye, Alec.”

Sonnie paused and glanced around her, deciding she did in fact want to drink even though Alec couldn’t join. She searched for her roommate's contact and pressed call, and waited for an answer.

“Sonnie!!!” Ivy sang. “You caught me at a good time I just finished at the bakery. Whatsup?! How’d the interview go?!”

“Amazing Ives! I want to tell you all about it. I was thinking though… are you around? Do you want to do Drinks at Luxe?” She scanned the street sign in front of her and added “ I’m not too far from there!”

“Sonnie, you know I’ll be there ASAP! Let me go back to our place and shower off some of this flour and I’ll meet you in about an hour.” Ivy said.

“Cool! See you there!”

Luxe was a bougie speakeasy tucked away behind a vintage movie theater from 1910. After an almost hour subway ride because of construction issues, Sonnie finally found herself outside Smitherson Cinemas. She made her way into the foyer and began the search for the speakeasy.

It was oddly located. Most speakeasies are, but you had to wiggle your way past the concession stand near the right side of The Theatre to find its door. Worth it though, for an intimate and quaint ambiance. As Sonnie skimmed the soda machine, the door popped, and down the narrow hallway, she went before being greeted by a plush red door. She gently grabbed the handle and tugged it open. A gentle cool breeze of AC and a clean floral smell soon hit Sonnie. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the red-hued lighting in the bar. There was one long U-shaped bar that stretched from one end to the other of the speakeasy and a few high-top tables with seats. Besides the couple sitting at one end of the bar, and a small group of corporate-looking people, the place was quiet.

Sonnie plopped herself in the middle, her back to a group of four.

“…just saying why are we here? Isn’t this like for peasants?” Sonnie’s ear perked up. She swiveled on the stool and noticed a man with dark features and an even darker suit had his back to her while three others crowded onto their side of the table.

“Relax,” said the one with his back to Sonnie. “I wanted to pitch something to you guys in an inconspicuous place.”

The oldest-looking one stifled a laugh. His grey hair was perfectly slicked back in a neat non-pretentious pompadour.

“I thought it was cause you wanted quality time with your siblings... you know, away from REAL people.” He patted the table to excuse himself and made his way to the bar to order a drink. He squeezed next to Sonnie on the left and waited for the bartender to return.

“Hey, Con, get me another bourbon, neat.” The man with dark features tapped his glass as he turned to face ‘Con’

“You got it, Ken” Con said.

“Kendall…?” Sonnie whispered to herself.

Kendall continued to bicker with two other people. Con leaned into Sonnie and asked “Sorry did you say Kendall? You know my brother?”

Sonnie looked into Con’s cool eyes, they had a surprising warmth to them you wouldn’t expect from such round baby blues. Before Sonnie could answer his first question, he asked “What are you drinking?”

“Oh, I was thinking a bee's knees—“

“Bartender!” Con snapped his fingers, his face twisted in annoyance. The bartender appeared at the opposite end of the bar, wiping his hands on a dish towel, and began making his way toward the two.

“I’m Connor—“ he said while extending his hand.

“Sonnie,” she smiled and shook Connor’s rough palm.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asked.

“Two bourbons, neat, and a bee's knees—“

“Alright fuck you guys, I’m done—“ Kendall’s voice rang through. There was a hint of humor, but it was dwindling.

“—for the lady,” Connor continued. He clenched his jaw and blew out hot air between his teeth. The bartender nodded and began to work.

“Sensitive. bitch boy, beta cuck!" sneered another voice.

“Guys,” Connor called the bickering group's attention. Kendall, a smaller man, and a red-headed woman glared at Connor. “Let’s cut the fighting, alright? Maybe pick a more appropriate place for this conversation?”

“Oh fuck you con— hey, wait a second,” Kendall’s eyes met Sonnie’s as the bartender placed the drinks on the counter. She quickly grabbed her cocktail, not breaking eye contact. “I know you! Sonnie, right?” He asked as he got up from his seat and plopped himself on the stool to her right. Connor grasped his whiskey cup, took a sip, and made his way back to the two at the table.

“Gotta say you nailed that interview.”

He reached over Sonnie, his chest barely touching her shoulder, and grabbed his bourbon that was next to her glass. She felt a sudden flush and hoped the red lights of the bar disguised the heat in her cheeks. She took a sip from her drink.

“Thank you, I’m really grateful to have had the opportunity to speak with you—“

“Hold that thought, hey guys!” Kendall waved at the group with Connor. “She just said she was grateful to speak with me today.” He said smugly. The red-headed woman scoffed. “Of course she said that, she doesn’t know you!”

“Shiv, that’s cruel. Am I so hard to know?” Kendall asked.

“Kinda,” said the voice who called Kendall a cuck. A squirrely man played with an Olive in his martini glass. “Who is she, your new doe-eyed assistant? I mean fuck she looks like a deer in headlights.” Sonnie looked at him slightly agitated. “I’m Roman, by the way. Roman Roy.” He gave her a half-hearted wave. She couldn’t help but feel like the ‘Roy’ name drop was implying the status he held.

“Actually yeah, this is Sonnie, Jess’s PR intern.”

“Siobhan —“ the redhead interrupted with an introduction, she stood behind Kendall and began kneading his shoulders. “—sister to Kendall. All I gotta say is good fucking luck if this guy is your boss.”

“Whoa, whoa, easy now. Don’t scare the poor girl before she starts!” He held his hands up defensively as Siobhan stopped massaging him and took a seat on another stool.

Sonnie placed her hand on Kendall’s shoulder. He glanced down at her fingers, and then at her eyes. “Wait— sorry to interrupt—“ she removed her hand “Are you saying I got the job?”

Kendall grinned and grabbed his bourbon. He placed the edge of his cup to the bottom of his lip and grinned.” “Sonnie—“ he took a swig “that’s exactly what I’m fucking saying” he clinked her cocktail with his cup and waited for her to grab the stem of the glass.

“Seriously?!” She scrambled for her drink and the two did a proper cheers before drinking.

“Bartender! It’s tequila time, 5 shots of azul ultra Anejo” Roman ordered as he and Connor re-joined at the bar.

“Oh I—“

“What? Don’t want to get drunk with the boss?” Siobhan asked.

“No—“

“Oh let the poor girl unwind, will ya?” Connor sighed with contempt. “Chumming the water…” he gave Sonnie a sympathetic look “But Shiv’s right don’t get drunk with Kendall, unless you want an earful and a mouthful.” He laughed the last part into his drink.

“Con stop. Lawsuit in the making!” Shiv slapped the oldest brother’s arm.

Kendall glared at Connor.

“He’s joking. We’re joking,” Kendall assured. As he watched Sonnie’s face morph into subtle terror. Before Sonnie could say anything, her phone buzzed as the 5 shots were brought out with limes.

It was Ivy:

“Hey, I may not make it at a good time. Damn subway line is closed and I have to walk 10 blocks East to catch the right train. I’ll grab some wine though and we can celebrate later at the apartment?”

Sonnie began to write "I ran into that problem on the opposite way in! No worries girl"

“Who’s that?” Roman asked appearing on Sonnie's shoulder. She gasped and fumbled her phone, which clattered to the tile floor. “Shit—sorry.”

“Fuck Rome!” Kendall growled.

Roman reached down and grabbed it, screen cracked. “Oh fuck- Sonnie, dammit.”

Her mouth gaped slightly. “I just bought this phone a week ago...”

“I’m so sorry. I was just trying to be an ass.”

“Rome— dude— you’re screwing me right now.” Kendall exhaled exasperated.

“Sonnie you come by Monday next week and I’ll write you a check for a brand new phone. I swear.”

She looked at Kendall wishfully. “Really?!”

“Of course.”

“On that note—“ Shiv squeezed over handing out the tequila shots— “breaking glass is supposed to be good luck so let’s take shots and celebrate your internship—“ she stifled a laugh “working with Ken.” All the Roy kids and Sonnie held the glass shots. Sonnie licked the fleshy area between her left thumb and pointer finger and began looking for salt. Kendall watched. Connor laughed.

“Sonnie, what are you doing?”

“It’s a tequila shot, right?”

“This is high-quality stuff. You won’t need salt.” His tone skyrocketed “higher class,” before Kendall raised his shot glass.

“To Sonnie!” Kendall said.

“To Sonnie!” They all said in unison and took the shot. It was smooth and silky with the subtle bite all alcohol has. Sonnie was impressed.

“Ah I gotta take this-“ Connor said as he answered a call and stepped out.

“Sorry again about your phone…” Roman mumbled sheepishly. “I’ll write you the check—“

“No, I will write her the check. I’m her boss.” Kendall stated and ordered another round of shots.

“Woah hey now, Sonnie hasn’t finished her cocktail yet. Sonnie?” Shiv asked.

“Yeah?”

Roman and Shiv looked at each other before clearing space on the bar. They balled their hands into fists and looked at Kendall.

“Guys— don’t peer pressure—“

“Weeeeee like to drink with Sonnie-“Roman and Shiv sang “cause Sonnie is our mate”

“Don’t--” Kendall cautioned half-heartedly,

“And when we drink with Sonnie— she downs it all in eight…seven…” Sonnie looked amused but frantic at Roman and Shiv before understanding what she must do. She grabbed her cocktail and sucked it down fast. The siblings cheered with delight.

“Okay Ken I take it back. she can follow instructions which is good for a little intern.” Roman smiled as sarcasm clung to his words. The second round of shots were placed on the counter and everyone collected their glass, with two remaining.

Another text from Ivy, but this was hard to read because of the cracks in Sonnie’s phone screen. “Are you at the bar?”

“That your boyfriend?” Kendall asked.

“Huh? Oh no, my roommate. She was wondering if I made it to Luxe okay.” Sonnie typed out a fast response.

“Yes. New boss is here, not planned. Socializing and celebrating! Got the job!”

“Okay!” Shiv began drumming the counter with one hand and holding up a shot in the other. “Round two!” 3 sets of eyes were on Sonnie. She hesitantly took her shot glass and grinned “Salute” Sonnie sang as she raised her shot into the air. Everyone tossed their heads back.

“There’s still one shot left…” Roman smiled cheeky. “I think Shiv the Shiv should take it,” Siobhan smiled lethally and began reaching for the shot until Kendall snagged it and swallowed. He grinned and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “… or Kendall I guess.”

“Alright sibs, let’s get Con and head out.” Kendall took out his wallet and flagged the bartender to pay. “Closing out the Roy tab,” “And her bee's knees as well,” he shot Sonnie a glance from the corner of his eye and gave her a furtive smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Roy,”

“Kendall, my friends call me Ken.” He signed the bill And began to make his way towards the door, his siblings following suit. Roman muttered before he passed Sonnie

“We’ll get your phone squared away…” then caught up with his brother and sister.

Kendall paused at the door leaving luxe, and held it open for Roman and Siobhan. The two glanced at each other before beginning the walk down the narrow hall.

“Jess and I’ll see you 8:30 Monday morning, Sonnie”

“Sounds good Mr. R—“He held up his finger. “—Kendall,” she corrected. He nodded approvingly.

“8:30am.” And shut the door.

Ivy again, “When you say boss, do you mean the lady Jess you’ve told me about or?”

Sonnie bit her lower lip “No, Kendall.”

Ivy emphasized her message. “First name basis already?! 😉…be careful though, Sonnie. He’s a powerful man …”

“Noted…”

#kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy x original female character #succession fanfic #lemon #smut #dark romance #succession #succession fanfiction #Roman Roy #shiv Roy #Connor Roy #Jess Jordan #Sonnie Gold

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cebothelover · 2 years ago

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ichorai · 2 years ago

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hell, yeah ; series masterlist.

pairing ; roman roy x f!reader series synopsis ; pain was an old friend for the both of you. wc ; 105.3k and counting! themes ; fluff, angst, drama, slowburn, smut, childhood friends to lovers warnings / includes ; drugs, alcohol, depictions of abuse, mentions of death, hospitals, a lot of sexual jokes and general foul language, sexual situations, reader is logan's goddaughter, a lot of business talk, roman being an asshole, emotional constipation

main masterlist.

chapter one. “Jump, you fuckin’ pussy!” exclaimed Roman, though he was quick to shut his mouth when his therapist flung himself into the pool face-first.

chapter two. “I’m supposed to slip this under your pillow while you’re sleeping, but I have a feeling you’re not gonna let me get up for the rest of the night,” you whispered, crawling back to him and throwing a leg over his waist. He curled his own legs around you as well, leaning his weight into you. His head throbbed, his jaw throbbed harder, his heart throbbed the most.

chapter three. “We were kids,” you mumbled tiredly. Blurry memories of leering, smoking men and jaunty laughter crossed your mind. “How could I have known?”

chapter four. Kendall’s expression seemed to soften, recalling how the two of you would always argue over the last remaining strawberry popsicle during the summers you were still little children. When you would grab it from the freezer before he could, he’d tug on your pigtails and call you mean as you denied ever taking them, and you’d hide the wrappers in Rome’s room so he’d never know it was you. But he could always tell from the sticky red on the corners of your mouth and your sugar-highs that seemed to last for a little too long.

chapter five. “Dad,” Roman said, disrupting the eerie, tense silence. “Please?” He was a child asking for a dog again. He was a teenager asking to come home from military school again. He was a young adult asking for his dad to stop hitting him again.

chapter six. You sipped on a glass of champagne that Kendall handed you. There was more chatter—amicable and light and teasing. You poked fun at Kendall’s lame hat whilst Shiv plainly told Roman that his shoes were a size too large for his feet. That his feet were small and dainty and he would fall over if they were any smaller. More drinks, more giggling, more stories. You learned that fresh-faced college Kendall once puked on Stewy’s bed and cried at the foot of it after drinking too much. You told the siblings that you once slept with Angelina from accounting during your first year at the company, to which they responded with shocked snorts. There was a point where Roman grabbed your face and kissed you and kissed you until the rest of the siblings began faux-gagging, and Connor complained that it was like watching his siblings make out. Goddaughter-and-son incest, he’d said.

chapter seven coming soon!

#roman roy x reader #roman roy fanfiction #roman roy fluff #roman roy series #roman roy ff #roman roy smut #roman roy angst #roman roy x you #roman roy fanfic #succession roman x reader #succession roman #roman roy #succession fanfiction #succession x reader #roman roy imagine

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azzie89 · 7 months ago

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Gravity

(A Lukas Matsson Fanfic)

Warnings: the Roys being assholes; no smut in this until a further chapter

Chapter One

You were the baby Roy. You were another child between Logan and Caroline after they divorced. It was one night of relapse that led to you. You were only twenty-three as Kendall was turning forty.

It was hard being so much younger than your siblings. You grew up mostly alone considering your siblings were grown and moved out by the time you were old enough to make many memories. You were closest to Shiv just because of the closer age but even then you were apart. An ocean apart.

Shiv didn't really have any use for you. Shiv was concerned with being daddy's favorite just as all the rest of them (except Connor) which meant you were left alone. Even your parents ignored you.

Caroline went back to England and Logan was too concerned with the company. Plus, Logan had three successors before you. He didn't have any concern for you. Not really. But still he always liked to pull you back into his web just like everyone else. And of course you let him swallow you back up into the web because you were so starved for affection. It was pathetic.

But as of now, he had no use for you. As of now, you were the Roy that had dropped out of business school only a year ago (shortly after the wedding Shiv had). No one knew why except your father and he had shipped you off to Uncle Ewan, not wanting to deal with you, to live in the country.

It was peaceful. You liked it up there with no one to bother you, out in the country, and you felt like you could breathe. And your father contacted you a few times but phone calls never lasted more than a few minutes. It was almost like he didn't know how to deal with you (which he didn't) because he didn't want to broach the subject of what happened a year ago so he simply ignored it. It allowed you to ignore it, too. Almost.

But today you were going back to New York City. Kendall was having his birthday and you would not miss it. You hadn't missed a single one of your siblings' birthdays just on the off chance they might for once notice you, acknowledge you, have need of you. But they had not. It didn't mean you wouldn't continue to try.

So here you were. At his very weird birthday party where the entrance was their mother's vagina. Your eyes had never been so wide. Despite that shock, you continued on. You asked around for Kendall until you came to the tree house.

You smiled prettily, politely, at the security as you asked them to tell you where Kendall was. If they could please make an exception. And they did. You were surprised as you were led through the tree house and right to Kendall. You smiled again at the guard with the soft words of thank you on your lips. The guard was starstruck as he nodded.

The look went unnoticed by you, too blind, too innocent, as you walked forward happily towards your big brother, "Kendall!"

He had been talking to someone but you didn't much care. You were happy to see him. He blinked as he paused in whatever he was saying to stare at you in surprise.

"El?" he questioned.

He had stood and you had immediately hugged him, wrapping him in a tight hug, hoping he wouldn't let go as you smiled so brightly, "Happy birthday!"

Kendall peeled you off of him like you were an unwanted leper which the guest he was with noticed. And he noticed how your smile fell a bit as Kendall did so.

"Thanks, El, but I'm kind of busy right now," Kendall said.

"Oh," your eyes glanced at the blonde guest that you had no idea who he was but you thought he looked rather handsome before you directed your gaze back to Kendall.

"Wait, how did you even get in here?"

You smiled brightly again, "Your security let me in. He was nice."

You didn't notice the guest smile in amusement.

"He let..." Kendall blinked before he sighed. "Look, El. Thanks. Really. But..."

"It's cool," the mystery man that hadn't taken his eyes off you spoke and you noticed he had a Swedish accent. "She can stay."

"Alright. El, this is Lukas," Kendall introduced.

You smiled shyly with a small Hi but even with the small smile your dimples were on full display. You had always been shy at first but once you got to know someone you were sure to never let them go.

Lukas thought you were cute. Adorable. An easy target. He wanted you in his bed.

Kendall kind of pulled you to sit next to him as he talked to Lukas. You didn't listen. You never cared about business talk. You also had a habit of tuning out randomly and dissociating from reality.

"You gonna be okay, El?" Kendall squeezed her shoulder.

"What?" you were confused; he was already leaving you.

"Gotta mingle, El," he chuckled.

"Yeah. I'll be okay," you said and then he was gone, leaving you.

You sighed sadly and Lukas commented, "I didn't know my company could be such a buzzkill."

"Oh," you had almost forgotten he was there. "It's not you."

"I know."

"El?" He questioned.

"Ella," you informed him.

"Ella?" he grinned. "Like the fucking princess?"

"Well," you smiled shyly. "I get treated like one."

"I bet you do," he licked his lips and he stared at you intensely which made your cheeks redden.

Lukas raked his eyes over your frame. You wore a ponytail and your outfit consisted of a turtle-neck sweater tucked into high-waist jeans. But everything was skin-tight on you, letting him see all your curves. You were small with the tiniest waist. But your breasts were large for someone so tiny. He wanted you.

"Do you want to get a drink?" he asked.

You nodded and you both stood up together. For the first time, you noticed how tall he was. Your eyes widened as you blurted out, "You're really tall."

He grinned, "You're really tiny."

You blushed a bit as they headed towards the bar. He was like a giant behind you as he placed a hand on the small of your back while they walked to the bar.

You ordered a mimosa. You had never really liked anything besides mixed drinks that lessened the taste of alcohol. Alcohol was new to you and you had never been one to really misbehave so the instances of you drinking alcohol were few and far between.

He had ordered another beer and the two of you stayed at the bar. His hand didn't move from the small of your back. In fact, his finger was lazily drawing shapes on your back. You didn't tell him to stop. It felt nice. You wouldn't admit that you were touch-starved.

"So, did my brother have some business with you or something?" you asked, cluelessly.

"You weren't listening?"

"It's rude to eavesdrop," you pouted as you shook your head.

"So it is," he grinned before he leaned in close, too close as he spoke. "I have business with your father."

"So what does my father want from you?" you turned towards him and although you had short legs, he did not. Your knees kept brushing.

"My company," He ever so discreetly prodded a knee to slot between your legs. He seemed so calm while internally your heart was racing and a blush crept up your cheeks warm, hot, and blazing.

You put your half-empty drink down, deciding it would only make your cheeks even more red. You had turned your head away from him, too afraid to look, trying to hide your very red cheeks.

You didn't expect him to lean in to whisper into your ear, his breath fanning out across your neck, "Do you want to get out of here?"

"And go where?" you asked curiously.

"Back to my place."

"To do what?" you peeked at him.

"I have trouble sleeping," his suggestive grin grew. "And I think you could help me."

"Like you can't sleep without someone laying next to you?"

He blinked at you. Were you serious? Did you really not know what he was referring to? And the answer was yes, you did not know.

"You should get a dog," you suggested.

"What?"

"A dog. If you need someone to sleep beside you, a dog could fix it," she informed. "I always wanted a dog. I had one once. Hid him in my room for a week before anyone noticed. Then he got out of my room and peed on the carpet. My dad was...mad. I cried and pleaded but...my dad got rid of him."

"It took him a week to notice?"

"Well...yes," you admitted.

He shook his head at the absurdity. How could someone so beautiful be ignored? It did not make any sense.

"Do you want another dog?" he asked before he joked. "I'm sure your brother has one stashed around here somewhere in this fucking monstrosity."

You giggled and it was like music to his fucking ears before you spoke, "This whole thing really is bad, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

And the night went on with them talking. Well, mostly you talked and he listened as you drank more. And his knee would inch closer to you between your legs but you were convinced that he did not know what he was doing. You chose to play it cool and ignore it even though you were hyperaware of his every movement. And his fingers still drew patterns on your back as you sat beside him making you lean into his touch slightly. You liked it. You liked him.

Your lips formed a dazed smile. You were a lightweight and alcohol made you really happy. Your eyes were droopy, though. Your mind would crash later.

You mumbled with that intoxicated smile, "You're nice."

"Am I?" he smirked a bit.

"Yeah," you smiled before frowning a bit. "No one ever listens to me."

"With such a pretty fucking voice?" he raised his eyebrows.

She giggled, "No one's ever said that to me."

"No?"

"No," she confessed as she bit her lip and you looked away in thought.

His crystal blue eyes were intently focused on you now. On your lips but you didn't notice. But then the two of you were interrupted by your brother, Roman.

You had jumped up at the sight of him and happily hugged him, "Roman!"

"Oh. Wow. So you're in town. Great," he patted your back awkwardly. "Welcome back."

Roman removed himself from your hold and immediately took your seat you had left as he talked to Lukas, "So there you are. Hiding from me like a human VPN and getting cozy with my sister, uh?"

Lukas stared at him coldly as he took a sip of his beer, "Yeah. We're comfortable."

"Not so comfortable now obviously," his tone was clipped and annoyed as Lukas turned his eyesight back to you.

You looked dejected. You stood there and realized you had nowhere to sit now that Roman took your chair. You sighed and he leaned in, whispering as he offered, "You want to sit in my lap?"

"You wouldn't mind?" you chewed on your lip in consideration. You didn't want to be a burden as that was all you ever were.

"No," he grinned a bit before he grabbed you by placing his hands on your waist and lifting you easily to sit on his lap. You situated yourself to sit comfortably, not realizing it caused a dilemma as Lukas inhaled deeply once your ass brushed slightly against his crotch.

"Thanks," you muttered sweetly as you turned your head slightly to look at him. He nodded his head.

"Look, you can totally be 'comfortable' with my sister later," Roman said with air quotes around comfortable. You squinted your eyes at the meaning of that.

"Can I?" Lukas grinned.

"Yeah. Whatever," Roman shrugged.

"What are you trying to say?" you didn't understand. "We're friends or...we're going to be. Of course, we're comfortable."

Lukas couldn't help but grin softly. Roman rolled his eyes, "Do you ever realize how dumb you are?"

You gained a hurt look in your eyes as you pouted. Lukas straightened in his seat and his tone was cold, "Let's not insult your sister, ja?"

"Yeah. Sure..."

And Roman started to talk business. You tuned out of whatever they were saying. You didn't notice Lukas started to play with the ends of your hair, twirling it around his fingers, as he barely listened to your brother.

His other hand was on the edge of the bar and you grabbed it. You played with his fingers in your lap before tracing the lines of his palm. You giggled a bit at the fact that he had no love line. No love for Lukas, you made a joke in your head.

Lukas was gazing at you intently, trying to figure out what you were thinking. You were a complete mystery to him and far from boring.

"If she's apart of the deal in some capacity, will you consider it?" Roman asked.

"You can tell your father I'll be apart of the conversation," Lukas said, wanting to get him to leave.

"Great. I'll take that," Roman smiled like he won the lottery and he got up to leave. "El."

You tuned back in and Roman was giving you a look, telling you he wanted to talk. As he started to leave, you got up to follow.

"It was nice to meet you," you smiled politely at Lukas before leaning in and giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

He grinned, "We'll meet again."

His look was intense and you blushed, nodding, before you scurried off after Roman. Roman grabbed your arm once you caught up and pulled you into a more private area.

"I didn't know you could play dirty, little sis," Roman said.

"What are you talking about, Roman?"

"Come on. You show up and suddenly Matsson is all over you. Were you gonna blow him tonight to get the deal and become Daddy's favorite? Or were you just gonna let him ass-fuck you in that chair?"

"I-What? Roman, ew," you blinked in confusion. "What is wrong with you? I just met him."

Your nose scrunched at the thought and Roman rolled his eyes, "Oh, yeah. I forgot. There is no such thing as fucking a stranger and absolutely no one does that ever."

"Well, I. Do. Not," you clarified.

"What? You didn't think about his dick at all while you were sitting on it? Don't be such a prude," Roman said. "Now, go back to Matsson. Tell him you'll fuck him if he takes the deal. Tell him I sent you."

You stared at him in disbelief and shook your head, "Roman, I am not a sex toy that can be bought and sold. I'm your sister."

"Yeah, so do your big brother a favor and take him home. He was giving you fuck me eyes the whole time. He'll be overjoyed."

"He was not giving me...eyes," you were flustered. "He was just being nice since you were so rude."

"Wait," he smiled. "You actually believe that?"

You were silent and he started to laugh. You huffed before storming past him, planning to leave, with your cheeks feeling like they were on fire. And you still did not believe what Roman was suggesting.

AN: I have more chapters on Wattpad currently by the way

#lukas matsson x reader #lukas matsson #succession #kendall roy #shiv roy #roman roy #logan roy #fanfic #fanfiction #matsson x roy!sibling

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connor-r0y · 4 months ago

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Request Queue

Accurate as of 2/1/25. All requests are ordered from oldest to newest. Oldest requests have highest priority. Requests span from 2023 - present. Subject to cuts where necessary.

Stewy Hosseini

Stewy x Roy!Reader, Roy family discovering their relationship.

Kendall and Stewy threesome with reader.

Stewy x Roy!Reader smut.

Stewy x Reader Slowburn.

Stewy x Reader, She falls hard, he falls harder, happy ending.

Stewy pining for Reader.

Kendall Roy

Kendall and Stewy threesome with reader.

Kendall trying to get reader pregnant.

Passionate sex with Kendall.

Kendall x Reader, with reader hooking up with Tom on the side.

Nonspecific Kendall x Reader smut.

Kendall falling for a reader from opposite background.

Tom Wambsgans

Tom x Intern!Reader.

Tom x Reader, expounding upon affair.

Reader having an affair with Tom while they're dating Kendall.

Tom x Reader x Greg, threesome.

Tom x Reader, stealing someone Greg is interested in.

Praise kink smut.

Separated!Tom x Reader, smut.

Finding out reader is pregnant post-honeymoon.

Healthy marriage with reader.

Tom x Reader x Greg, SFW

Tom x Inexperienced!Reader

Roman Roy

Fluff headcanons.

Tatooed!Reader

Healthy marriage with reader.

Side note if you've read this far - if anyone wanted to throw even a singular request my way for Connor or Shiv, I would owe you my life. I have so many requests for Tom content and zero for either of them.

#succession #succession x reader #kendall roy x reader #roman roy x reader #tom wambsgans x reader #greg hirsch x reader #stewy hosseini x reader #she speaks

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blah-blah-bee · 1 month ago

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masterlist ♡

Find me on letterboxd ❥

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・° ☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・° ☆.。.:・°

Hi, I’m bee! ⟡ he/him ⟡ I write for Top Gun/ TG:M, Thunderbolts*, Succession and most Lewis Pullman, Pedro Pascal, Kieran Culkin and Miles Teller media! Asks/ requests are welcome and ENCOURAGED! (Basic request guidelines, be civil, be legal, I do not write: rape, incest/fauxcest, pregnancy, or smut. I also do not write x reader as of now.)

Top Gun:

✧ On the phone talking down your sister- upon Iceman getting injured, Maverick is forced to confront his sister, Anna Kazansky, and his feelings for her brother.

✧Third times a charm- three times Bradley got engaged (and one time it stuck)

Succession:

✧ Fly fishing (coming soon!)- Connor raising his younger siblings, Roy family sweetness.

Thunderbolts*:

Send me requests! (Headcanons, blurbs, fics, anything!!!)

Misc/ blurbs:

✧ Daggers' marriage histories

✧ Rooster’s middle name

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beegomess · 5 months ago

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Knockin' On Heaven's Door || Kendall Roy

Summary: After years of heartbreak and distance, an unexpected reunion rekindles the connection between you and Kendall Roy. Amid past mistakes and promises of an uncertain future, you both navigate old feelings and new hopes as you try to rebuild what seemed lost forever. Warnings: Kendall Roy x fem!reader, sad, cute and with obscenities. Simply a whirlwind of feelings like a good imagine with Kendall should be. - Word count: 17k

A/N: Remembering that my first language is not English, so there may be some errors due to the translation. I hope you like it!!

You would always see him with the same eyes as before. But Kendall… he was definitely not the same anymore.

Your relationship, always tumultuous, had been, at the same time, something rare and, for a time, very beautiful. There was something delicate about it, something that made him breathe deeper, almost as if, for the first time, he believed he could escape the weight that imprisoned him. With you, Kendall believed he could free himself from Logan's control. And, for a moment, a moment that seemed too fragile to be real, you believed it too.

With you, he saw possibilities, a future where he could be more than Logan's son, more than a pawn in this dirty game of power and manipulation. He wanted to be there for his daughter, he wanted to maintain harmony in the house, he wanted to believe he could be a different man, someone who deserved the peace and happiness you offered.

But no. It wouldn't be like that. Logan, as always, was lurking, ready to pull you back in, like a magnet that would never let you escape completely. The pressure of the patriarch was what always consumed him, and once again, he found himself being sucked into the emotional and chaotic hurricane of the family. No matter how hard he tried to swim to the surface. Just when it seemed like he was free, the currents pulled him back in.

You saw it happening. With each passing day, you realized that something in him was fading.

When things started to fall apart for good, you knew you couldn't stay any longer. The relationship that once seemed full of possibilities was now nothing more than a field of ruins, and you no longer had the strength to continue rebuilding on what was broken. There was no more room for dreams, there was no more room for both of you.

He walked around as if the world revolved around him, as if he were unbeatable, as if he owned his own reality. But you knew that all that confidence was nothing more than a disguise. Beneath it all, he was lost, sinking deeper and deeper into something you could no longer understand.

A night—a dawn, to be exact—still recurs in your memory. One of those nights that stays with you, immortal.

It was late when you heard the faint ding of the elevator on your floor. By then, you had already left the apartment you two shared, taking your daughter with you. The place, once shared, now seemed like an empty cocoon, a lifeless space where the echoes of everything you had experienced still crawled through the walls. The new apartment was silent, but it was starting to have the kind of calm you needed.

When the elevator doors opened, you didn't need to look to know who was there.

Kendall. Even after everything, you still recognized his signs, even if his eyes were no longer the same, as if everything about him had become distorted somehow.

He was there, standing in front of you. He looked normal, but at the same time so lost and irritated. His face was marked, his body tense. Something about him, maybe exhaustion, anger or drugs, made him constantly conflict with his own body. You felt a slight pang of tiredness just seeing him.

“I need to talk to you.” Kendall’s tone was direct, almost aggressive, but not as much as it had been other times. He was more restrained, as if he was forcing himself to maintain his composure, or maybe it was the emptiness of someone who was far beyond the point of no return.

You tried to avoid confrontation, to keep the conversation there, at the entrance, without giving him any more space to invade. But it was a fight you knew you wouldn’t win. When he took a step forward and crossed the line you had tried to impose, you said nothing. You just watched him, silently, as he began to speak. The words came out of him like an uncontrolled flow, a mix of complaints, justifications and accusations.

You wanted to understand, you wanted to make sense of what he was saying, but at that moment, he had become a distant figure. With each word that came out of his mouth, you simply couldn't hear anymore. It was like turning off the mute button on a TV. He was talking, but he wasn't really communicating. Kendall's words were getting lost, getting tangled up in something that no longer made sense. And you... you no longer had the strength to try to keep up with him.

And then, in the midst of the emptiness of the conversation, she appeared.

The little girl with her messy hair and eyes still lazy from sleep, appeared in the middle of the room, rubbing her eyes with her little hand and a smile that only a child could offer. She had no idea what was going on, she didn't know about the emotional mess between the two of you, the pain you were both carrying. But the moment her eyes met her father's, an expression of pure joy and surprise formed on her face.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed, a simple and sincere happiness written all over her face. She didn't see the man who was there, the anger that still hung in the air, the disjointed words that came out of Kendall's mouth. To her, he was just the father who had been away for weeks, someone she adored without question, without understanding what was happening.

"You're back!"

Kendall stood still, staring at his daughter for a long moment, as if trying to understand what she was saying, what she represented at that moment. His eyes, previously angry and tense, seemed to soften for a second. The smile he forced, although a little tense, was an attempt to reconnect with something that seemed lost, something he no longer knew how to maintain. The little girl ran to him, her steps small and quick, and threw herself into his arms with a confidence that only a child could have. She seemed to think that, somehow, everything would go back to the way it was.

"I missed you!" She said, tightening her little arms around his neck, with the simplicity of someone who didn't carry the weight of the world. Kendall held her, and for a moment, he seemed to get lost in those words, in her touch. But at the same time, there was a hardness in his eyes, a tension that wouldn’t go away.

You stood there, watching the scene, a pang of pain rising in your throat. She was so happy, so genuinely happy, and the irony of the situation was not lost on you. While she celebrated, the world around her was falling apart. Kendall’s attempt to appear present, his attempt to be who she believed him to be, was a facade he could no longer maintain.

At some point that night, he himself had realized that it was time to leave.

He didn’t exchange another word with you. There were no pleas, no goodbyes. When he laid you down, he kissed you on the forehead—a kiss that was more a reflection of what he thought was the right thing to do than a genuine act of affection. And then, in a gesture more forced than any other, he stood up and headed for the door.

The sound of his footsteps echoed in the hallway. You knew he was leaving, and that there would be no going back. You didn’t need words for that.

And it was in that silence that he realized: this was the first time he truly understood that he had lost everything he had built with you. It wasn’t just the home that had fallen apart, nor the relationship that had deteriorated — it was something deeper, more painful. He was losing the only refuge he had left. And that, perhaps, was the worst of it all.

The elevator door closed softly, but the sound was as definitive as the loudest of echoes. He was out of your life.

And so the following years went. The move to Germany came almost as a necessity. Your job, with all its demands and opportunities, demanded the change. You knew you couldn’t stay still, and with your daughter, the decision to start a new life in a new country seemed like the right path.

The first few months were difficult, of course. Adapting to a new culture, missing friends and the family routine that had been abruptly interrupted. But, over time, life settled down. Work took priority, and your daughter, now older, was adapting well to school, learning the language with ease. She seemed happier than you imagined possible, and that, in some way, softened the scars of the separation.

Kendall, on the other hand, seemed... different. He was no longer the lost, confused man who had left. He appeared more balanced, less distracted. He started making annual visits, arriving with a smile on his face, trying to recapture the lost moments, as if everything was fine between you, as if time had done nothing more than change the shape of a worn-out story. Conversations became more pleasant, more superficial, and video calls, which had previously seemed like moments full of tension, became part of a comfortable routine.

It was strange, but almost surreal, how much more present he seemed now than he had been when you lived in the same city. For most of your time together, he had always been absent in some way—physically or emotionally. Now, physically distant, he was there, on every phone call, trying to fill a void that had never had a chance to exist between you, but that now, with the distance, seemed... easier to deal with. It was as if time and distance had softened the sharp edges of your relationship. He had become a constant presence, but in a very different way than he had been before. You still didn’t know what to make of this new version of Kendall. Maybe you never would. Over the years, Kendall had adapted to the new dynamic, understanding that if he wanted to have some kind of relationship with your daughter and, perhaps, start over with you, he would need to navigate this new territory. The visits, the calls, the texts—it was all now part of a “new normal” that he accepted with the hope that, little by little, he would be able to regain something he once had.

But, even though the interactions were more civilized and distant from the chaos of the past, a feeling of dissatisfaction persisted within him. It wasn’t just what you had become, or what he imagined you to be today, but the memory of what you had been. And, often, he found himself lost in his own thoughts, trying to understand what was left of that history that he couldn’t let go of.

And, in fact, there was no letting go on his part, but a silent acceptance of what had happened, an acceptance that seemed more like a remnant of wear and tear than any kind of resolution. Before you were parents or anything else, you were a couple — and that, for Kendall, was hard to let go of. The life you built together felt, to him, like a time capsule trapped in a screen. As if each memory was an echo of something he knew he could never reach again, but that he couldn’t erase.

For you, the confrontation with the past was something even more poignant. Old photos, videos on his phone, they were like ghosts coming out of the shadows. They were frozen moments of a happiness that, in his mind, was no longer possible. The mere idea of revisiting these vestiges of the past always seemed to bring a weight—a weight that you tried to ignore, but that returned with the same intensity as before.

However, for Kendall, things were a little different. He had never been particularly into social media—he rarely bothered to open his Instagram account or see what other people were posting. But then something started to change. Somehow, he found himself drawn to that little button, and that was when the ritual began. At night, alone in his apartment, he would scroll absentmindedly through his account, until, without meaning to, he came to a specific point. A video.

It was a simple video. Almost unpretentious, compared to the whirlwind of events that had come after. A short video, only fifteen seconds long, but that seemed to stretch on endlessly before Kendall's eyes. The scene was a snow-covered landscape, the trees bending under the weight of winter’s whiteness. You and him, younger, more uncomplicated, laughing as your daughter crawled with difficulty in the snow, trying to balance herself, her little legs stumbling and falling every now and then. It was the kind of image that sticks in your memory—innocent, pure, full of simple happiness.

The video wasn’t the only thing that held him, though. What really held him there was the caption of the post.

“Your birthday, our gift! We love you.”

Those words. Short. Simple. But with an unbearable weight. Like a gentle touch of something lost, something he could never get back. They were words loaded with a promise he knew had failed.

And yet, he never stopped watching. Every night, he would watch the video again, wondering if one day those words could become true again.

So when you said Hi, Ken on that call, your voice filled with something he couldn’t decipher, Kendall immediately felt that something was different.

“Hi,” you replied, a smile coming almost as a reflex, although his mind was already on alert. “Is she there?”

“Yes, but…” you hesitated, and he leaned forward, his entire body tense with the pause. “I thought I’d talk to you first. I need to tell you something.”

His heart gave an involuntary jump.

“What’s wrong?” He tried to keep his voice steady, but there was something there, a small crack that you noticed.

You took a deep breath, like someone preparing to dive into icy water.

“Well, apparently my work here is over for now… so they decided to send me back to New York.”

For a moment, Kendall stood completely still. The weight of those words seemed too great to process all at once. Then something began to change in his expression—first a silent disbelief, then a slowly growing glow, until it turned into a genuine smile, so rare and unexpected that it seemed out of place at that moment.

“Are you…” he began, his voice almost breaking. “Are you going back?”

You nodded.

“Yes. We’ll be here in two weeks.”

The confirmation brought a wave of warmth that spread through his body, almost as if he were warming himself up inside after years of endless winter.

“That’s great,” he said finally, forcing his voice to sound light. “For her, of course.”

“Well, that’s what makes sense now,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “My job requires me to go back, and I think it’ll be good for her to be closer to you.”

The sentence was practical, almost neutral, but to Kendall it sounded like music.

“And where are you going to stay?” – He asked with barely concealed excitement, as if trying to control how much that meant to him.

You hurried to answer.

– In my apartment. I still have it, so let’s go there.

And for a moment, Kendall stopped. The smile that was starting to light up his face faltered briefly, as if reality had pulled the brakes on his euphoria. But he quickly regained it, almost as if he didn’t want you to notice.

“Sure, sure. It makes sense.”

He knew he should be grateful. You would be in the same city. This was more than he expected, more than he believed he deserved. But the mention of your apartment was like a reminder that it meant nothing more than what you had said: practicality.

But Kendall knew it wasn’t just about his daughter. He couldn’t stop his mind from running to places he tried to avoid—you were coming back.

“I’m glad you’re coming back,” he continued, and this time the emotion in his voice was too real to contain.

You nodded, looking away for a moment, as if trying to escape the intensity of that moment.

“Thank you, Ken. Anyway, I don't want to take up any more of your time. I'll call her.

And then you disappeared from the screen. He stood there, staring at his phone, with the frozen image of where you had been seconds before. The silly, uncontrollable smile still hung on his face, as if it were something he didn't know how to erase.

____________________________________

The move was efficient and hassle-free, managed by a dedicated team that took care of everything—from packing each delicate item to coordinating the transportation of boxes and furniture. While your daughter busied herself with picking out toys to take on the plane, you simply oversaw the process, delegating smaller decisions and making sure everything ran as planned.

The arrangements included a private jet for the flight and a team at the destination to ensure the apartment was exactly how you wanted it. Impeccable cleaning, custom decor, even the fresh flowers you requested were provided without question. Despite all the logistical comforts, there was a mix of emotions that not even luxury could ease. The weight of returning to New York, with all that it entailed, still hung over you.

Your daughter, on the other hand, seemed delighted. She asked excited questions about her father, about the city, about what her new routine would be like. Her enthusiasm was a reminder that, however complex her feelings, the return was ultimately for her own good.

For Kendall, the days leading up to his arrival were filled with uneasy anticipation. He wasn’t the kind of man to wait passively, so he channeled his anxiety into a frenzy of preparation, like making a reservation at a restaurant you loved without even asking first. Jess watched him discreetly, but she couldn’t hide her surprise. He kept talking about the dinner he had planned. He had too many opinions about the restaurant and even asked her to triple-check the reservation. Deep down, she knew this behavior was unusual even by his standards, but Kendall seemed determined to make sure the evening was perfect. Your landing was smooth, but the calm ended the moment you stepped off the private jet. The movement in the arrivals area betrayed something you had hoped to avoid: paparazzi. They were strategically positioned, their cameras capturing your and your daughter’s every move. The name Roy had always attracted attention, but at that moment, it seemed like everything around Kendall was amplified—and that included you. You stood your ground, holding your daughter’s hand tightly as you guided her toward the car. The flashes were insistent, and your daughter, confused, looked at you.

“Mommy, why are you taking pictures?”

You smiled slightly, even though your irritation was latent.

“They’re just curious people, honey. Don’t worry.”

As the driver took you home, you watched the messages start to appear on your phone. The headlines were predictable: “Roy Family: Kendall’s Wife and Daughter Return to New York.” Some went further, trying to connect the dots of a narrative that was never fully clarified. To the world, you and Kendall had never officially separated. When you moved to Germany, the tabloids had been merciless, calling your departure an “elopement” and insinuating that you couldn’t handle dealing with Kendall, a recovering drug addict. It was frustrating, but you had learned to ignore that kind of thing.

When you arrived at the apartment, everything was as it should be. Spotless, with furniture in place and your daughter’s room decorated with care. She ran excitedly to explore the space while you allowed yourself a moment of silence, collapsing on the couch.

Your phone vibrated. It was Kendall.

“Are you here yet?”

The message was simple, but you could feel the anxiety behind it. You hesitated for a moment, remembering the tone of the headlines and how every move you made seemed fraught with external interpretation. But this was about you, not what others thought.

“Yes, settling in. See you tomorrow.”

His response came almost immediately.

“Great.”

You sighed, putting your phone away. Your daughter appeared in the living room, holding a stuffed animal, and you went to help her finish organizing her things.

As night fell over New York, the weight of what it meant to be back was hard to ignore. The city skyline seemed more intense, almost like a constant reminder of where you were: at the center of it all, but also, perhaps, at the center of a life you’d tried to leave behind. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being in a repeating cycle, even with all the new beginnings and changes happening around you. But there was something about your daughter’s energy, something so genuine and pure, that gave you a small relief. It was rare to see her so excited about anything, especially something involving her father. The idea of surprising Kendall at work, an idea you’d half expected her to forget, had been fresh in your mind the entire drive. As reluctant as you’d been at first, you found it beautiful how much she cared. She wasn’t just wanting to see her father, she was wanting to show him something, something that was hers, no middleman. You, for a moment, you even thought she might lose interest, that her excitement would wane, but that didn’t happen.

As soon as the sun began to cover the apartment with its golden light through the window during the morning of the next day, you found her sitting at the breakfast table, her eyes shining with energy and expectation. Your little girl was excited, she could barely sit still, and you knew that this meant a lot to her.

For a moment, the idea of telling Kendall crossed your mind. It would be good to prepare him for the surprise, to avoid any disappointment with the unexpected arrival of the two of you. But your daughter, with her typical confidence and enthusiasm, made you promise not to say anything. She wanted it to be a complete surprise, something spontaneous. So, without further ado, you put aside the idea of telling Kendall, feeling a slight tension, but also a sense of pride for your daughter’s initiative. She was ready to show her father how much she cared, and you were willing to support that, even if it was outside of your plans.

____________________________________

When you arrived at the Waystar Royco lobby, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia. The space was still the same, the hurried movement of the employees who barely had time to look around.

But this time, there was something different: you were no longer a regular presence there.

At the reception desk, a young receptionist looked at you with curiosity and, perhaps, a little skepticism.

“Hello, how can I help you?” she asked professionally.

You remained calm, even as your daughter tugged impatiently at your hand.

“We’d like to go up to see Kendall Roy,” you said, smiling. “It’s a surprise, so we’d prefer not to be announced.”

The receptionist hesitated, clearly suspicious.

“Sorry, but no one can go up unannounced. Who are you, exactly?”

You took a deep breath, trying not to sound rude.

“I am…” you began, but before you could finish, your daughter, with the typical impatience of a child, reached out until she saw the woman’s face on the other side of the counter and blurted out:

“He’s my father!”

The receptionist looked at the two of you, still not convinced.

“Okay… I need to confirm this with someone. One moment,” she said, picking up the phone.

Before the situation could escalate, a warmer voice came from behind the counter.

“Mrs. Roy!”

You turned around and saw Angela, a veteran employee who recognized you immediately.

“Angela!” you exclaimed, feeling a wave of relief.

Angela walked up to the counter with a welcoming smile, ignoring the receptionist who looked disconcerted.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Roy. Can I help you with anything?”

“Actually, yes. We’re here to surprise Ken, but… we don’t want to be announced.”

Angela smiled understandingly.

“Understood.” Don’t worry, I’ll make sure no one interrupts the surprise.

She gave a meaningful look to the receptionist, who now looked mortified.

“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding,” the young woman said, but you just nodded, preferring to avoid prolonging the awkwardness.

Angela accompanied you to the elevators, chatting casually while your daughter looked around, enchanted by the brightness and grandeur of the place.

“It’s great to see you back,” Angela commented, opening the elevator door for you.

When the doors closed, the silence was filled only by the excitement of your daughter, who was jumping slightly beside you.

“Do you think he’ll be happy?” she asked.

You smiled.

“I’m sure he will, dear.”

But deep down, you knew that this surprise visit meant more than just the joy of seeing him. It was a kind of return, not only to him, but to the universe to which you had belonged, with all its challenges and complexities. Returning to that office meant returning to a world you had, for a while, tried to avoid—a world you knew was luxurious and unforgiving, but also numbing and sometimes suffocating. There was something uncomfortable about being addressed as his wife after so long away, when the people you had met in Germany simply called you by your first or last name, your name and the White you had inherited from your father. There was no “Roy’s” or “Kendall’s.”

Your mind wandered, full of thoughts and questions, as the elevator ascended. The numbers on the elevator flashed briefly, and before you knew it, you were on a floor that, although familiar, now felt strangely distant. The elevator doors opened, and as you stepped out, you took a deep breath, trying to push away your uncertainties and focus on the child beside you, who was beaming, ready for the surprise you had promised.

As you stepped out of the elevator, the familiarity of the surroundings immediately overcame you. The long, well-lit hallway was bathed in soft light, reflected off the marble floors. The echo of your footsteps on the polished floor resonated, amplifying the feeling that you were back in a world to which you no longer fully belonged. Your daughter was at your side, running in small leaps, her energy overflowing with each step. The path to Kendall's office was the same as so many times before: a succession of doors with different people's names, and the usual hurried movement of employees going from one side to the other, all immersed in their own worlds. You noticed a few furtive glances that crossed your path, and their discomfort seemed to be in the air, as if something was going to pay attention, but didn't dare to ask. Some greeted you with a shy smile, as if they didn't know exactly how to react, while others quickly looked away, aware that your presence there was unexpected. It was a mixture of familiarity and strangeness, as if you were a memory from the past, someone who now seemed out of place in this corporate universe, but still unmistakable.

The door was ajar, your daughter, her eyes shining with anticipation, he gave you one last push, as if he wanted to run through the open door on his own. You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of what was about to happen, before gently pushing the door open. Kendall had his back to you, his suit sleeves slightly rolled up as he reviewed papers on the table. “Jess, if this is about…” When he turned and saw you, he stopped abruptly. For a moment, time seemed suspended. “Hey,” you said, smiling softly. “We decided not to wait until dinner.” Your daughter ran to him, and Kendall immediately opened his arms, picking her up easily. “You’re here! That’s…” He laughed, the laughter coming out unbidden, lighting up his expression. “That’s amazing.” As he spoke to her, his eyes met hers over her shoulder. There was something there, something that said more than words could express: surprise, admiration, and a happiness he didn’t seem to expect. The moment seemed perfect, almost as if time had slowed down just for you. The sight of Kendall with his daughter in his arms, smiling with that lightness you rarely saw, made your heart warm. But, like an intruder in the middle of an intimate moment, the door suddenly opened.

The man who entered was visibly younger than you imagined, oddly tall, and carrying papers in one hand, while seeming to be in a hurry. His eyes, however, fixed on you immediately, and it was as if the scene had been abruptly interrupted.

“Wow, you’re back!” He said, with an exaggerated smile, almost as if it were an inside joke that you didn’t understand. “This is amazing, a family reunion! I’m happy for you.”

You looked at him, trying to access any memory, any image, but his face remained strange and distant. You couldn’t associate him with any name or memory. The feeling of discomfort increased, and you couldn’t help but feel lost in the situation. He was talking as if he already knew exactly who you were and what you were doing there, as if it were something normal.

You tried to smile, forcing your voice to remain light.

“Oh, it’s really good to see you too,” you said, quickly glancing at your daughter, who was still comfortable in her father’s lap. “Well, we just came to give you a quick surprise, Ken. I don’t want to disturb your work. See you later?”

Your attempt to escape the situation, however, did not go unnoticed. Kendall seemed a little surprised by the way you were moving away, and your daughter looked at you with a confused expression, as if she didn’t understand what was happening.

“But mom, we just got here!” Your daughter protested, her discontented tone growing. She frowned, clearly dissatisfied. “Aren’t you going to stay a little longer?”

Greg, still not quite sure what to do, remained still as a statue, also trying to understand what was happening there, so he decided to make one more comment:

“Um, so... just to clarify... are you and Kendall... like, working things out?” Greg asked, his head tilted a little awkwardly, as if he were trying to decipher a riddle. “Not that I have any doubts, of course, just... well, you know... since you're here... together.” He looked from you to Kendall, an attempt to confirm, perhaps, if that made sense or if he was completely lost in the situation.

The silence that followed was so thick that it seemed to fill the entire room. Kendall paused for a moment, a look of confusion on his face, as if he didn't know what to say to that. The tension was growing, and you felt the heat of shame begin to take over every cell in your body. Your daughter, who had remained in Kendall's lap until that moment, looked at you and, with an air a little more mature than her age indicated, said:

“What does he mean, Mommy?” The question was simple, but full of weight, and you felt you needed to answer quickly, without diving into the murky waters of that conversation.

Before you could answer, Greg, still completely clueless, tried to soften the situation awkwardly.

“I... I just thought it would be, like, important to ask, right? Not that you need anyone's permission.” He laughed, trying to redeem himself, but the joke seemed more painful than funny. “Just... because we're all here, you know? A big family reunion and all…”

You didn't know how you felt. The sensation of being in an environment that should have been comfortable, but was now immersed in tangible discomfort, made each of Greg's words feel like a disguised punch.

Trying to hide your irritation, you gave Kendall a subtle glance before turning your focus back to Greg, with a slightly more forced smile.

“Well, I’m sure the answers to your questions are a little invasive, but…” You pause with a soft smile, but your gaze cold. “But if you decide, I don't know, to go for a walk now, I promise to pretend this never happened.

Kendall sighed heavily, probably relieved by the fact that Greg was finally starting to leave the scene. But the tension still hung in the air, and for a moment, it seemed like time had slowed down. Greg's embarrassment was evident, but his attempt to maintain his composure did not go unnoticed.

"Sure, sure..." Greg murmured, visibly disconcerted. He took one last look at you and, with his head down, left quickly, as if trying to disappear.

You forced a smile, trying to stay calm and not let the discomfort take over. You looked at your daughter, who was now watching the two of you with a mix of curiosity and concern, but without knowing exactly what was going on.

"Look, I think that's enough for today." You said, in a lighter tone, trying to ease the tension in the air. "Daddy has a lot of work to do, we don't want to get in the way, do we?" – You gave Kendall a quick smile, as if trying to convey the impression that everything was fine. – We'll see each other later, so he can concentrate.

Kendall, who was visibly torn between wanting you to stay and the weight of the responsibilities that still awaited him, looked at you with an expression of someone who was trying to find a way to make things work without making the situation even worse.

– Yes, of course... – He finally said, with a heavy sigh, as if he was accepting the proposal. – I think you're right. I still have a lot to do. – He looked at his daughter, who seemed not to want to go, but quickly settled on his lap and murmured an "okay" without much conviction.

You smiled again, taking your daughter's hand who was a little downcast now, thanking the fact that, at least, she wasn't insisting anymore. The last thing you wanted was for her to be more confused about the situation than she already was.

The walk to the door was silent, each of you immersed in your own thoughts, and the feeling that something unsaid was hanging in the air grew stronger with each step. When you reached the door, you hesitated for a moment before looking at Kendall once more.

“See you later?” You said, more as a statement than a question, trying to keep the situation light.

“Sure…” Kendall replied, but his voice carried an undertone that wasn’t exactly convinced. “See you later.”

As you turned and left the room, a strange feeling took over you. The situation had been uncomfortable, but at the same time, it felt like a part of you was dealing with something bigger. Something that had been pushed down for a long time.

Outside the door, as you walked away with your daughter, you felt a pang of regret for not having addressed what was really going on between you. But somehow it was clear that now wasn’t the time, and maybe it never would be. And when you looked at your daughter, you realized that sometimes it might be better to pretend that everything was fine, because the truth would be harder to digest. Kendall, on the other hand, watched you walk away, and with that, thoughts came quickly to his mind. He saw the effort you made to distance yourself, to not give too much importance to what had happened. You were trying, somehow, to maintain normality, but something in your eyes and the way you behaved revealed that this attempt at evasion did not go unnoticed. He wanted to draw attention to it, to ask what was happening, but the last thing he wanted was for his daughter to see it. Kendall felt the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air between the two of you. There was something there, something he knew needed to be confronted, but he didn't want to. It was easier to avoid, easier to ignore the growing tension. He had been dealing with his own emotional mess for so long that what was happening between you felt like something he no longer knew how to resolve. The desire to fix things was there, of course, but the fear of not knowing how to do it was even stronger.

____________________________________

That night, you met at the restaurant, the tension from earlier in the day had dissipated by now and, although you thought about making up an excuse not to go, you ended up deciding that it couldn't be as bad as you thought. Maybe it would even be a good thing. You would still be with your daughter, so Kendall certainly wouldn't bring up complicated subjects. And it was with this in mind that you ended up accepting in the end.

As the meal progressed peacefully, a soft sound began to fill the restaurant. A singer, accompanied by a discreet piano, played a classical melody. Your daughter, curious as always, leaned forward in her chair, her eyes shining.

"It sounds so cool to sing, can we play that later?" she asked, subtly pointing in the direction of the singer.

You smiled, recognizing the melody.

Kendall looked up from her plate, a smile playing on her lips. "You know, your mother sang too."

You immediately rolled your eyes. "Don't start, Kendall."

Your daughter's eyes widened, excited. – Really, Mom?

– Yes, I sang, but it wasn’t anything special – you said, trying to avoid it.

– Oh, it wasn’t anything special? – Kendall replied, laughing. – Your mom was practically the star of the bars and restaurants near the college.

– Kendall! – you exclaimed, laughing despite yourself.

– That’s true. – He turned to his daughter, excited. – Your grandparents were furious with your mom because of a tattoo, and instead of apologizing, she decided to become a singer to pay the bills.

– That’s not exactly how it happened – you murmured, but it was impossible not to laugh.

– Yes it was – Kendall insisted, amused. – She packed the places.

Your daughter seemed fascinated. – Mom, can you still sing?

You shook your head quickly, laughing. – No, I don’t know anymore. That’s in the past.

Kendall arched an eyebrow, clearly doubtful. – Oh, I doubt it.

– I’m serious! – you replied, trying to keep your tone light. – That was a long time ago.

Your daughter grimaced, disappointed. – But you seemed to like it…

You sighed playfully. – Oh, back then I wanted to be a super famous singer. I even dreamed of touring and everything. Your grandfather almost had a heart attack just thinking about it. But over time, I realized that wasn’t what I really wanted. – You shrugged. – I was just trying to find myself.

Your daughter processed this information for a moment, her gaze full of curiosity.

– So… was it a mistake?

You smiled, leaning slightly towards her. – Not exactly. It was an experiment. But, if you ever decide to do something similar, just… let me know before you get a tattoo, okay?

The conversation dissipated into light laughter, and while your daughter returned her attention to the dessert, you and Kendall exchanged a brief look, full of memories and a touch of complicity. It was a silent truce, a reminder that not everything in the past had to be a source of conflict.

In that moment, dinner felt like more than just a meal; it felt like a step, however small, toward something lighter and more harmonious between you. The conversation, the shared laughter, and the knowing glances created an atmosphere that had seemed absent for so long.

That feeling persisted on the way home, as the car glided through the streets of New York. Kendall, lost in thought, barely paid attention to the lights that flashed outside.

His daughter was nestled against him, her little face pressed against his shoulder, her curls falling like a veil. He adjusted her gently, worried about waking her, but her light weight in his arm felt like a anchor, a feeling he didn't know he could crave so much until he had her there.

Then he looked at you. You were facing the window, the soft reflection of the city lights drawing lines on your face as you slept. Your peaceful expression almost made him smile. He remembered, at that moment, something so small, but that made him feel an inexplicable warmth: you always fell asleep in the car if the trip was long or late at night. It was almost automatic, as if the constant vibration of the vehicle was an invitation you couldn't resist. And now, seeing your daughter asleep next to him, the same trait seemed so evident. He had to look away for a moment, as if the simple beauty of that detail was too much to process. Kendall let a smile appear on his face, a small but sincere smile. It was funny how things like that – so banal, so everyday – could carry so much meaning. It wasn't just about the similarity between the two of you; it was about what it symbolized. You were together, even if for a short time and for reasons he knew were fragile. The car slowed down at a traffic light, and he took the opportunity to absorb more of that moment. He could almost feel fulfilled. Almost. But the "almost" was the difference between peace and restlessness. He had the company of both of you now, but he didn't have you. Not in the way he wanted.

The car parked smoothly in front of the building. Kendall got out first, holding your daughter in his arms as if it were the most natural thing in the world. You grabbed her coat and adjusted the strap of your bag before following them. He seemed comfortable in that position, almost as if her weight in his arms was everyday.

“Come on, honey. We’re home now,” you murmured, lightly touching her shoulder in an attempt to wake her up.

She shook her head, opening her eyes for a moment, but when she realized where she was, she just grumbled softly and tightened her arms around Kendall’s neck, hiding against him.

“Hey, young lady. You can walk there, can’t you?” you tried again, your voice calm, but already anticipating the answer.

Unsurprisingly, she shook her head, tightening her embrace on Kendall, who let out a restrained but amused laugh.

“Do you want me to take you?” – he asked, looking at you.

Deep down, you knew exactly what she was doing. Although you didn’t say anything, you understood what motivated your daughter to insist on that behavior.

“Okay,” you gave in, sighing with a small smile. “Thank you.”

The walk to the elevator was enveloped in a peaceful silence, as if neither of you wanted to break the moment. You walked a few steps ahead, checking your keys in your bag, while Kendall kept his eyes fixed on the small sleeping figure in your arms. There was something comforting about it, something he couldn’t explain, but he felt it deeply.

In the elevator, Kendall looked at his daughter and then at you. It was almost impossible to ignore how natural it seemed. He wanted to comment, maybe make a light joke about how she was becoming more and more like you, but he held himself back. There was something subtly perfect about that moment that he didn’t want to break.

When the elevator door opened, you held the door open for him. The room was quiet and dark, only lights from outside invaded the apartment. Kendall followed you down the hallway to his daughter's room, his footsteps silent on the wooden floor.

When he arrived, he placed her on the bed carefully, as if he were handling something precious and fragile. Your daughter mumbled something incomprehensible, still half asleep, but her arms loosened from his neck. You pulled the blanket, covering her with an automatic and delicate movement.

Kendall took a few steps back, watching in silence as you fixed the girl's hair and turned off the light on the lamp next to the bed. For a brief moment, he wanted to say something, but he bit his tongue. He just followed you back to the hallway, the silence between you heavy, but inexplicably comfortable.

The silence that settled in the room was heavy, but for some reason, that was the first situation of the day that you didn't feel the need to avoid. There was something there, an implicit truce that made the moment easier to bear.

– Would you like something? Water or… water. – You laughed, opening the fridge. – I don’t have many options today.

The soft light from the kitchen illuminated the room through the white countertop, creating a cozy contrast between the two spaces.

– Water is fine. – Kendall replied with a slight smile, but in truth, he would accept anything if it meant spending more time with you. He approached the countertop, resting his hands casually as he watched you.

You searched for glasses, clearly still in the process of adapting to the new house, moving your hands from shelf to shelf, as if the logic of the place still didn’t make sense. Kendall noticed how comfortable you seemed in that space, even amidst the mess. But what caught his attention, almost against his will, were the small details that he had forgotten – or perhaps tried to forget.

The way your skin seemed to glow under the soft light of the kitchen caught his attention. The simple movement of your arms revealed the almost hypnotizing texture, something that made him wonder what your skin really felt like to the touch. Your hair, slightly messy from sleeping in the car, held an intimacy that disarmed him. It was a vivid reminder of how you were in the most relaxed moments, when you still woke up in the same bed.

The sound of the glasses lightly hitting the counter brought him back, ending his daydreams. He watched as you poured the water into the glasses, the casual movement of your arms, the way the light reflected off the crystal clear liquid.

“And how are you at work now? Do you still like it?” Kendall asked, starting the conversation in a relaxed tone, although his eyes were still drawn to you more often than he would like to admit.

You smiled as you finished filling the glasses, holding one out to him.

“I still like my job,” you began, with a genuine tone that seemed to light up your face for an instant. Kendall raised his eyebrows, a little surprised, but attentive. “I just can't stand my boss. - You finished with a theatrical sigh, drawing a smile from him.

- Well, if it's any consolation, I know exactly what it's like to have your own father as a boss. - He joked, tilting his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a familiar sparkle.

You laughed softly, leaning casually on the counter.

- But what is it this time?

- Nothing much, my father just expects me to solve world peace. - You answered ironically, but the slight roll of your eyes didn't go unnoticed by Kendall, who now seemed more focused on your words than on the joke.

- Oh, it can't be that bad. What did he ask for? - He said, the lightness in his voice masking his genuine interest.

You let out a short laugh, leaning forward as if sharing a secret.

- I'm not kidding, Ken. He wants me to find a way to negotiate fighter jets with both the American government and the countries of the East.

Kendall paused for a moment, processing the absurdity of what you had just said, before letting out a light laugh.

“Well, then it seems he really expects you to solve world peace.”

You laughed with him, shaking your head, but the slight exchange of glances between you carried something beyond the joke.

“What about your job? Ever since I left, you’ve still been rotating this CEO thing, haven’t you?” you said before bringing the glass to your lips. You knew it was a delicate subject, but you were curious about what Kendall really thought about it. “Does he still use that promise as a bargaining chip whenever he needs you?”

The silence in the room seemed heavier after your question, and Kendall looked away to the glass in his hands. He swirled the liquid inside it for a moment, as if looking for time to organize his thoughts. Although he smiled briefly, the gesture didn’t reach his eyes. You noticed that. You always did.

– Yes… – He answered, his voice almost hesitant. – Well, you know how chaotic this shit is, but yes, we’re still at that same stage. He plays it off as a promise. Whenever he needs to manipulate us…

You nodded slowly, observing the discomfort he was trying to mask. For a moment, you thought about dropping the subject, but you knew it was the right opportunity to ask something that had been stuck in your throat for a long time. Taking a deep breath, you decided to go ahead.

- Ken, I actually need to ask you something, and I need you to be very honest about it, okay? – His tone changed to something more serious, and that made Kendall look up at you immediately.

- Yes, of course. What is it? – He answered, his expression genuine, although slightly tense.

You placed the glass on the counter and crossed your arms, gathering the courage to continue.

- Your father… A few weeks before I left, two years ago, he called me for a talk, just me and him. At the time, I didn't know where you were, so I need to know if he did it willingly or if he had your consent in some way.

Kendall frowned, visibly confused, but you continued, feeling the weight of the words before you even said them. “Logan called it a warning, but I didn't see it that way. Your father asked me if I intended to formalize the divorce and I said yes. But he had other plans.”

Kendall's gaze became more attentive, almost alarmed. He didn't interrupt, but the tension in his posture increased.

“What? What are you talking about?” he asked, confused, his tone betraying a mix of concern and fear of what was to come.

You sighed, trying to keep your voice steady, but the memory still weighed on you.

“Your father vehemently forbade me from leaving the country with our daughter if I filed for divorce. He said he would do everything he could to stop me from taking her with me if I had that intention.” – Your eyes searched his, but Kendall seemed frozen, his lips slightly parted as he processed what you had just said. – Ken, I just needed to know if you knew about this, because if you did… I don’t even know what to think.

The silence that followed was thick, filled with tension and unspoken emotions. Kendall blinked a few times, as if trying to absorb the impact of what he had heard. Finally, he shook his head, frowning as if he were trying to put the pieces of a broken puzzle together.

– I had no idea… – He said, his voice hoarse, almost a whisper. – I swear, I didn’t know about that. My father… He… He did these things without telling me. Fuck, I’m so sorry.

The sincerity in your voice was evident, but you remained silent, trying to gauge whether you believed him. Kendall ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you recognized as nervousness.

– He had no right to do that to you. – Kendall continued, finally raising his gaze to meet hers. – Much less using our daughter as a bargaining chip. I… I would never have agreed to that, ever.

You let out a long sigh, a mix of relief and exhaustion.

“That’s good to hear, Ken. I just… needed to know.”

He nodded, his face serious, but his expression softened as he continued to look at you, a mix of guilt and something deeper in his eyes. It was as if, at that moment, he wanted to make up for not only that situation, but all the weight of the years that were left behind.

“Look, I don’t… I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.” Kendall begins, with a sincerity that you almost don’t recognize, but is interrupted by his calm and light voice.

“Ken, I don’t think I have enough to drink to open this Pandora’s box.” You joke, trying to lighten the weight that fell on the conversation, the light tone contrasting with what was said. “We’ll have plenty of time for that later, don’t worry.” Also, just one important addendum: if I'm going to have to listen to you talk about your family every time we meet, we're going to need to negotiate a fee for each therapy session.

You let out the irony with a subtle smile, and Kendall lets out a muffled, comfortable laugh, as if it were impossible to resist your ability to ease the tension with a silly joke. He settles back, his shoulders relaxing, and decides to joke back, in the same tone.

"And what exactly would you charge?" He asks, the lightness in the air giving way to a provocation disguised as interest.

"Well, you know, I have a lot to consider here." You begin, exaggerating the seriousness, like a theater actress trying to add a touch of drama to the scene, and he, of course, enjoys it. "First thing: you never paid child support, so I guess I'll have to discount that too."

"Oh, the thousands of dollars I sent every month weren't enough?" – Kendall answers, with a slight irony in his voice, but there is something else behind his words, a more attentive look, perhaps more introspective, that suggests an unspoken question. He observes you with increasing intensity, the conversation no longer being just about finances.

You smile, still in the rhythm of the joke, but Kendall's gaze begins to change, and you realize that the lightness begins to mix with something more, more personal, closer to where you both know the conversation can go.

- Well, we will also have to take into account that you, from time to time, are a CEO. – You continue with a sideways smile, maintaining the playful tone. – That should be part of our equation. So, being a good girl, I will settle on the value of the pension at maybe a million dollars and the therapy sessions at about ten thousand, fifteen, if the subject is about your father.

Kendall gives a muffled chuckle, but his eyes don't leave yours. He seems to absorb your words, but there’s something there, something deeper, that he doesn’t know exactly how to verbalize.

“So… a million dollars for alimony, fifteen thousand for therapy, and how much for a second chance?” Kendall joked, his voice now lower, as if the question was more than a simple provocation, as if there was a deeper truth there, something he didn’t have the courage to say directly.

You let out an incredulous laugh, as if the idea were absurd, but deep down, there was something there that caused you an unexpected warmth. He watched your reaction, an involuntary smile forming on his lips, convinced that, somehow, he had disconcerted you, perhaps even more than he imagined.

“Well, considering I arrived yesterday…” You pretend to think before looking directly at him, with a smile in your eyes. “Yes, maybe it’s a little early to open negotiations for that, but I admire your proactivity.” He laughs, the air between you becoming lighter, but also more charged with a silent tension, a feeling that the words, as playful as they were, were revealing something deeper, something that perhaps both of you would rather not face right away.

After a brief silence after the laughter, Kendall finds himself looking at you for longer than he should, as if trying to keep the moment to himself, but then he speaks, interrupting the thought.

“I should leave now, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes, I believe so.” You answer, but still with a slight smile, keeping the mood relaxed, although the farewell was lurking.

“Well…” he picks up the coat that was on a nearby chair before pausing and saying. “I enjoyed today, a lot.”

“Me too, Ken.” You answer with a gentle smile, something in your tone that didn’t go unnoticed by him, a touch of softness that he couldn’t ignore.

He then moves away from the counter, heading towards the elevator again. Before entering, he quickly turns to see you turn off the light and leave the kitchen, now illuminated only by the dim light of the hallway.

“Good night.” He said, with a slight smile on his lips.

“Good night, Ken.” You say goodbye, and he finally enters the elevator, the doors closing softly.

With Kendall gone, you head to the bedroom, where you trying to put her thoughts in order. The silence in the house seemed greater now, filled by his absence. As she lay down on the bed, the emptiness that remained echoed in a strange but comforting way. She knew that things were still open between you, as if the unspoken words still hung in the air. But, for now, rest was the best she could offer herself.

Meanwhile, on the floors below, Kendall was bouncing inside. He descended each floor of the building with an unexpected feeling of lightness. The smile he tried to contain as he descended in the elevator was not at all forced, it was genuine, as if something inside him had finally rebalanced.

The conversations with you, a simple but profound exchange, had touched him in a way he hadn't expected. Every laugh, every look exchanged, seemed to have rekindled something he had tried to keep buried. He didn't want to admit it, but what had happened there, that night, was more than just a simple encounter. It was something more meaningful, something he knew he couldn't leave behind so easily.

As he stepped out of the building, the cold New York breeze couldn't erase the warm feeling he felt inside.

________________________________

As the months went by, Kendall became more and more present in your lives. Little by little, he began to make a point of taking his daughter on trips, whether to a place outside the city or to his apartment, where they would spend the day together. He was more willing to share his time and attention, and this was reflected not only in his regular visits, but also in the care he gave his daughter, in the way he watched her while she played, in the way he adapted to the new family dynamics.

And, of course, over time, his presence by your side became more constant. Initially shy and cautious, he now made a point of being around. He spent more time at your apartment, bringing with him the restless energy he carried with him, but also a touch of lightness when he was there with you. He seemed to need these moments, as if the simple act of being with his family was a remedy for his daily worries.

When the snow covered the streets of New York, the setting seemed perfect for a quiet moment. He was at your house, as usual, at his daughter's request. The afternoon passed between laughter and movies, one of those lazy Sundays when the world seemed to slow down for a while. The screens in the apartment became a cozy setting, a kind of refuge from the cold outside.

He was there, next to you, but his phone never seemed to give him peace. Every now and then, he would step away to check his messages, his appointments, the problems that awaited him. But something had changed in him. Although his phone was always full of urgent messages, he began to lessen his worries when he was with you and his daughter. He tried to divert his attention to the present, to the moment you shared. And, as difficult as it was, he did his best to be present, to not let the weight of the world at work become a burden in the hours he spent with you.

It was on one of those afternoons that he once again noticed how you, almost naturally, fell asleep quickly, as if the simple act of snuggling up in that safe environment was enough to make the tiredness of the day dissipate. He, who always had a more controlled posture, couldn't help but notice how your tranquility affected him. There was something there, in that lightness, that attracted him in a way he still didn't know how to explain.

There was a growing closeness between the two of you, and it wasn't just sentimental. The touch of your hands, the way your eyes met more often, the way the other's presence seemed to no longer be an inconvenience, but a necessity. Kendall didn't know exactly at what point that line between friendship and something more had been lost, but he also didn't seem to want to worry about it anymore. When you were together, the outside world disappeared, and the intimacy between you grew stronger every day. He was beginning to notice these small gestures, the moments when your hands almost touched, the longer smiles, the unspoken words that were exchanged in moments of silence.

The conversations, the laughter, the shared glances, all of that was creating something new, something that he was beginning to feel not as pressure, but as a silent promise that there was something more to be discovered between you. Something beyond words, more than just being together.

With the annual charity event coming up, everything seemed to conspire to make your presence indispensable. For years, your father had represented the family company at these galas, but now, with his return and the imminent transition of power, the responsibility fell to you.

For practical reasons—or so you tried to convince your parents—you decided to go with Kendall. After all, he would also be there, marking his definitive return to the corporate world of New York. But deep down, you knew that this decision was loaded with meanings that went beyond logistics. The butterflies in your stomach as you got ready were proof of that. It wasn’t just the prospect of facing the sharks of the corporate world; it was the weight of walking alongside him again, being seen as husband and wife, at least in the eyes of the public.

The idea bothered you less than it should have. Being part of that “perfect family” image again seemed inevitable. And, even though it wasn’t ideal, you knew you had to deal with it sooner or later. While these questions ran through your mind, your apartment was in complete chaos: makeup artists, hairdressers, stylists, all adjusting the smallest details so that your appearance would be impeccable.

The intense pace was interrupted by an unmistakable sound coming from the living room.

“Grandpa!” your daughter’s excited voice echoed, drawing smiles from everyone present. Your father had arrived, and he seemed more excited than usual.

“Dad?” you called from the bedroom, looking at the hairdresser with a tired smile. “I think it’s okay now, thanks.”

Standing up, you adjusted the hem of your long dress and walked down the hallway. Your heels echoed across the floor as your dress dragged softly.

“In her room, honey!” your father’s voice answered. Of course he was there. When you arrived, you found the two of you sitting on the floor, surrounded by scattered toys.

“Dad, why aren’t you ready? We have to leave soon.”

“Oh, I decided not to go this time.” He answered casually, without even looking up from his game.

“What?” His voice came out louder than he intended. “Dad, are you kidding? Damn it, why didn’t you warn me before?”

“Hey, watch your swear words, there are kids here.” He finally stood up and looked at you with that expression that always disarmed you, but that today only increased your irritation. “Let’s talk in the living room. I’ll be right back, honey.” He told his granddaughter, leaving the room as you followed him, anger bubbling under the surface.

In the room, which now looked like a battlefield with so many people and equipment spread out, he turned to you, taking a quick look at your outfit.

“Why are you so dressed up?” he asked, and before you could answer, he added: “Is this all to impress your little shit of a husband?”

You took a deep breath, seeking patience.

“No. It’s to represent our company, which is what you should be doing with me!” you replied, but he seemed more interested in teasing than arguing.

Before you could continue, your assistant approached, nervous.

“Just to let you know... there will be a comedian at the event. He’ll probably interact with the guests,” she said, almost apologetically.

“Great,” you muttered, already imagining the kind of joke he would make.

“Who cares?” your father retorted, with a disdainful tone. “He’s just another one of those party clowns. He’ll make half a dozen jokes about old people decomposing and leave. All you have to do is wave and smile. What's the problem?

You stared at him in disbelief, feeling your blood boil.

"I can't believe you're going to leave me alone in this..." you began, but were interrupted by the security guard telling you that the car was ready.

Going back to the room, you kissed your daughter on the forehead before leaving. When you passed your father in the living room, he let out the last provocation:

"If Logan's there, tell him to fuck off for me."

"You're unbelievable!"

As you looked at your reflection in the mirror, you took a deep breath, adjusting your posture and trying to transform your irritation into a diplomatic smile. It was the least you could do before facing the night ahead.

As you left the building, a black SUV was waiting in front, escorted by two others. The security guard opened the door for you, and inside, Kendall was already there, sitting, her gaze fixed on her cell phone.

He took his eyes off you when you entered, a quick moment that captured your entire journey. Even though he seemed accustomed to events like this, something in the way he looked at you made it clear that there was still admiration there.

The silence between you on the way was almost palpable. You were tense, your thoughts spinning in circles: your entrance into the event, the possible comments, the anticipation surrounding your presence alongside Kendall. Then, he finally spoke, breaking the tension.

“You look beautiful.”

The simplicity of his words brought you back to reality. Turning your face toward him, a soft smile formed on your lips.

“Thank you.”

And that was it. He realized that you were distant, with your head full, and decided not to insist. I only found out when you sighed deeply, preparing yourself for what was to come.

When the car pulled up to the entrance of the venue, the flashes appeared before the door was even open. Kendall got out first, adjusting his jacket, and waited outside. He thought you would follow him, keeping a certain distance, but he was surprised when you stopped next to him. Your smile was carefully posed, calculated for the cameras. Naturally, you guided his hand to the exposed part of your back, where the fabric of your dress ended. Kendall felt the heat of your skin under his fingers and, for a moment, he forgot about the paparazzi, the flashes and the questions that popped up around him. A few voices shouted questions about recent scandals, about business, about you as a couple. But none of them deserved his attention. The walk along the red carpet was brief, just enough to keep up appearances, before they were guided inside the event. The atmosphere was opulent, but heavy, as if every piece of decoration was impregnated with formality and corporate history. You looked around and blurted out, almost without thinking:

“God, this looks like an asylum.”

Kendall, beside you, let out a low laugh.

“Welcome back to the social circle, I guess.”

You laughed lightly, but without taking your eyes off the room, already scanning the room.

The room was full of familiar faces, faces you had already crossed paths with at other events or seen in business articles. Some of these people responded quickly and answered. Kendall appeared beside you, wrapped himself in the calm posture and you figured he always showed off in public, but the familiarity between you was visible — the way he tilted his head towards you, as if you were inviting him to command those interactions, was something new and unexpected.

After the initial cocktail hour, just before dinner was served, you saw Logan approaching. His walk was slow but firm, as if the weight of the entire room was spinning around him. You felt his presence before he even spoke, and the sound of his voice carried that peculiar tone of cutting sarcasm that was his trademark. “So…” Logan began, with a fake smile that you knew well. “Has your father decided to throw himself to the sharks so early?” You didn’t flinch. Your eyes met his, and the smile that spread across your face was as fake as his. “He knows when a son is ready to take on these things.” His answer was cordial, but it carried an implicit firmness. Logan inclined his head progressively, assessing you with that clinical gaze. “I hope you’re sure. It wouldn’t be good to rush things, you know how this could end.” He took one last look at you, then cast a quick glance in Kendall’s direction, who was further away, before turning and walking away. You took a deep breath, relieved that he was gone, but the feeling of having passed an invisible test lingered. A short time later, Kendall approached you again, his eyes searching yours with a curiosity that didn’t need to be voiced out loud.

Soon after, people were settling in for the dinner that would soon begin, and you were led to one of the main tables, as expected for such central figures at the event. Kendall sat next to you, the room around you filled with conversations about business, philanthropy, and politics.

You tried to pay attention to the conversations around you, but it was hard not to be distracted by Kendall’s presence. He was incredibly at ease, navigating the discussions with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. The way he articulated his arguments and engaged others was something you hadn’t seen in a long time—corporate Kendall in action.

As he spoke, you couldn’t help but notice subtle details: the way he frowned slightly when he was focused, or the way his voice naturally modulated as he addressed different people at the table. You realized you were admiring him more than you wanted to admit, and it caught you off guard.

On the other hand, Kendall also seemed uneasy, but for different reasons. He felt your closeness like an electric current, a heat that seemed to intensify every time your shoulders or arms lightly touched. At one point, when he leaned in to whisper something in your ear about how terrible the wine was, your faces got dangerously close.

“I’ll remember to bring you a decent wine next time,” he murmured, and you laughed softly, the soft sound making his chest tighten in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Then there was the moment when your hand accidentally brushed against his as you reached for a glass of water. It was a brief touch, but enough to make you both feel a slight shiver. You looked at him, and the look you received in return was direct, intense, almost as if he were trying to read your mind.

Kendall also noticed things that seemed small, but left him disconcerted. The way you smiled at the people at the table, polite and impeccable, but with a hint of irony that only he could perceive. Or the way your voice changed subtly when you addressed him, softer, almost complicit.

The lights dimmed even further around the tables, while the stage was illuminated by an intense spotlight. You felt a familiar tension tighten in your stomach. The comedian was known for having no boundaries, and with Logan Roy present, the chances of him avoiding delicate subjects were practically zero. Taking a deep breath, you adjusted your posture and kept your smile light and controlled. You were prepared to face the moment, or at least try to appear that way.

He started off in a relaxed manner, drawing easy laughs from the audience with generic jokes about the corporate elite. Even you laughed at a few, allowing yourself to relax for a few seconds. However, when he started addressing “family dynamics in the media” and mentioned Logan, you knew the worst was yet to come.

— I admire this guy, but I always have doubts: is he indecisive or is he waiting for some streaming service to make a reality show to decide which son will take over his company. — Laughter burst out instantly, and he paused strategically, savoring the moment before continuing: — They would be like the Kardashians of the corporate world.

The room reacted thunderously, with laughter echoing from all sides. You kept your smile on, but you noticed Kendall's jaw tighten slightly. At the same time, Logan, at another table, remained motionless, with an expression that mixed disdain and coldness.

Then the comedian lowered his voice, pretending to whisper into the microphone, but loud enough for everyone to hear:

— We already know which one Kendall Roy would be, don't we?

You smiled slightly, controlled, but instinctively turned your face to Kendall. He kept the smile on his lips, but his gaze was fixed on the stage, his fingers drumming almost imperceptibly on the table.

The comedian noticed the tension and decided to double down.

“But there’s no denying it, the guy is a visionary.” He pointed dramatically at Logan, drawing more laughter from the audience. “This man could start a war in no time. We should be worried, really.”

The room was divided between laughter and palpable discomfort. You noticed Logan’s gaze, cold and calculated, as if he were considering ways to turn that man into an irrelevant stain on the floor. Kendall’s breathing beside you became heavier, and you knew he was also feeling the impact of the moment.

But the comedian didn’t end there. He looked directly at your table, as if he was about to deliver the “main joke.”

“Now, here’s the masterstroke.” He smiled, pausing to build anticipation. “Logan Roy married one of his sons to Charles White’s daughter. Do you understand that?”

The room erupted in laughter, but the laughter was different now—it wasn’t just amusement, but also that underlying discomfort, as if everyone knew the joke was about to cross the line.

You knew exactly what he was implying, and so did the audience. The media caused the conflicts; your family’s company offered the solutions. Cause and effect, perfectly woven into a single marriage. The narrative was irresistible to anyone who loved a scandal.

The comedian gestured as if asking the crowd to calm down.

“Please, this is a joke.” He took a theatrical step back from the stage. “Don’t send a bomb to my mailbox.”

The attention was completely focused on you now. Your smile was controlled, polite, but your eyes said more. You couldn’t show the irritation that was beginning to boil, and that was exactly what made it all the more frustrating.

The comedian began to pace the stage again, as if he were building the next joke in his mind. He looked at the audience and smiled, as if he knew he was about to say something controversial.

“Now, I have to comment…” He paused, gesturing with his hands to emphasize the drama. “Isn’t it ironic? A charity event, all of us here so concerned about helping others… and we have the illustrious presence of the White family, whose greatest “act of charity” is funding wars.”

The audience let out a muffled laugh, and the sound echoed in the room, mixing with the slight buzz of discomfort. It was a heavy provocation, but the comedian had a talent for keeping the tone seemingly light, as if it were all harmless.

You felt the weight of the words, but your face didn’t change. A perfectly calculated smile remained on your lips, while you maintained your composure, adjusting your posture slightly in your chair.

“But of course, I’m not judging!” He added, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. — After all, someone has to make money while the world loses its mind, right?

The laughter grew a little louder, and he continued, clearly enjoying the moment.

— It's like I always say: while some make donations, others build planes.

Kendall, next to you, let out a low laugh — almost inaudible to the others, but enough for you to notice. He tilted his head slightly toward you, his lips still curved in a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

— Are you having fun? — He murmured in an almost ironic tone, so low that no one but you would hear.

You glanced at him sideways, holding back the joking tone to keep up appearances.

— You have no idea. — You replied, still smiling at the stage.

Before he could answer, the comedian moved on to another topic, but the discomfort persisted at the table. You took a deep breath, picking up your wine glass to try to center yourself. Kendall noticed the gesture and discreetly touched your leg under the table, as if to let you know he was there.

It was a brief touch, but enough to surprise you.

When the event finally ended, you and Kendall walked together towards the exit, greeting the other guests with the impeccable cordiality that the occasion demanded. There was an almost rehearsed naturalness between you, as if you were in fact the perfect couple that so many believed – or wanted – you to be.

The flashes continued outside, and Kendall, once again, placed his hand on your back as he helped you into the car. Inside, the air seemed denser, charged with the emotions of the event. Kendall broke the silence as the car began to move, his voice carrying a carefree tone, but with that sarcasm that was almost automatic for him:

“So, which of the Kardashians would I be?”

You turned to him, surprised by the question, but unable to hold back your laughter.

“Kim, probably,” you answered, throwing it back with the same lightness.

He arched an eyebrow, intrigued, a discreet smile playing on his lips.

“Kim? Why?”

You pretended to think for a moment, before shrugging with an amused smile.

“Well… she’s the most controversial, don’t you think? Always in the spotlight, but somehow she manages to turn everything into fame.”

Kendall let out a low laugh, shaking his head.

“Controversial and turning everything into fame? I don’t know if that’s a compliment or a disguised insult.”

You tilted your head, your smile growing.

“It depends on how you choose to interpret it.”

The rest of the drive was light, almost childish, as if you had temporarily left behind the pressures of the real world. Comments about the event, observations about the people you saw, even spontaneous laughter. It was as if time had compressed, and when the car stopped in front of Kendall’s building, you were taken aback.

He leaned slightly toward you, his tone casual, but his eyes betraying something more:

“Do you want to go up?” The question seemed simple, but there was barely contained excitement in his expression. — Just to talk.

You stared at him for a moment, assessing the situation. There was something undeniable about that invitation, a tension that hung between you. And while you could question his intentions, you knew yours weren’t that different.

“Sure, why not?” You replied with a gentle smile, and it was enough to make Kendall’s heart race.

The walk to the apartment was smooth, almost natural, as if you were just walking home together after a long night. In the elevator, he stood next to you in silence, his hands stuffed in his pockets, but his gaze would occasionally stray to you, as if checking to see if you were really there.

When you arrived, Kendall turned on the soft lights in the living room, heading to the bar with familiarity. As he poured two shots of something you couldn’t identify at first glance, you kicked off your shoes, setting them aside, and dropped your bag and cell phone on a nearby table. The atmosphere was cozy, almost nostalgic, as if the apartment still held traces of the times you had been there before.

You settled into the couch, crossing your legs as you accepted the glass he handed you. Taking a sip, your eyes followed him as he took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt in an unpretentious manner. His casualness seemed to contrast with the small electric charge that was beginning to form in the air between you.

“The view from your apartment is still better than mine,” you commented with a playful smile, breaking the silence. But there was something else in your voice, something that carried a hint of vulnerability, as if the situation was pulling memories from a shared past.

Kendall laughed, low and husky, as he approached, sitting next to you on the couch.

“Well, it’s hard to compete with something so unique,” he said, indicating with a slight nod the glass wall that revealed the lights of Manhattan.

You followed his gaze, but when you looked back at him, he was already watching you. There was something in his eyes—an intensity that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“It’s weird,” you said quietly, more to yourself than to him.

“What?” Kendall asked, leaning in slightly.

“Being here again. It doesn’t feel like that long ago, but at the same time… it feels like a lifetime ago.”

He nodded, his smile softening.

“Maybe because some things never change.”

There was a pause, tension building in the space between you. You felt the warmth of his presence, the subtle touch of his knee almost brushing against yours. Without thinking, you slid your fingers along the cool glass of the glass in your hand, while the other rested on the couch beside you, close to his leg.

“And is that good or bad?” you asked, your voice lower, as if you didn’t want to break the moment.

He tilted his head, his gaze going from your eyes to the curve of your lips and back again.

“I guess it just depends on how you look at it.” You barely had time to process his answer before you felt the weight of his hand on yours, which was on the couch. His touch was light but determined, as if he were asking for permission without using words. Your eyes met, and something finally gave way.

Kendall leaned in slowly, and you did the same, the world around you disappearing when your lips met. The kiss started hesitantly, almost shy, but it quickly deepened, carrying a mixture of longing and repressed desire. Your hands rose to his face, while his slid down to your waist, gently pulling you closer.

The glass fell to the floor with a dull thud, but neither of you seemed to notice. The sound was lost in the growing heat between the two of you, as if the world around you had completely disappeared. You only moved closer to his body, pulling him closer, while his hands explored the fabric that still covered your skin.

It was as if the dress was an unbearable obstacle. Kendall, now impatient, let his hands slide down your back, searching for a zipper or any tie that would undo it. But the careful search gave way to a certain desperation, his fingertips pressing against your skin, as if he simply could not wait any longer.

“Fuck, just rip this shit off.” His voice was firm, almost authoritative, and he paused for a moment, chuckling against the curve of your neck.

“Always so direct, huh?” he murmured, but there was something husky and full of desire in his tone.

The mischievous smile remained on his face as his fingers gripped the fabric of your dress and, with a quick, decisive movement, ripped it. The sound of the fabric giving way echoed in the silent room, followed by the sensation of cold air against your skin. You gasped slightly, but soon felt his heat fill the space again, as if he could not bear to be away for even a second.

Kendall seemed mesmerized. His eyes roamed over your now partially uncovered body, his breathing irregular as he absorbed every detail as if he were seeing you for the first time. He was lost, intoxicated by you, and he didn't even try to hide it.

"You're... unbelievable," he said, his voice low, almost reverent, before leaning in again to kiss you, this time deeper, more intense, as if each movement carried all the emotion he couldn't put into words.

Lying on the couch, you felt his weight on you, the way his firm hands found your waist, your hips, as if they wanted to memorize every curve of yours. For Kendall, that wasn't just desire. It was need, urgency, something he couldn't name, but that seemed to consume every part of him.

As he kissed you, his hands moved with a mix of instinct and intention, exploring every inch of your warm skin, as if he wanted to map the territory that was now exclusively his. For Kendall, the world didn't exist beyond that moment. Everything about him was focused on you, and he seemed determined not to let anything interfere. You were immersed too, completely enveloped in his presence. All you felt were his touches, the way he pulled you closer, as if he feared you might slip away, as if he needed to anchor you to himself. There was a fervor in the way he held you, almost desperate, but at the same time controlled, as if he wanted to prolong the moment for as long as possible. The wet kisses Kendall spread over your body were a hypnotic delight. Each one felt hotter, more intimate than the last. However, it was when you felt his hand slide slowly, with purpose, that the tension rose. He traced a lazy path to the last piece of clothing that still covered you. His fingers lightly ran under the elastic of the lingerie, the soft touch like an implicit promise. He pulled the fabric just enough to loosen it and let it snap back against your skin. The sound was almost inaudible, but the intention behind it was deafening. He was teasing you, testing your limits, playing a game he already knew the end of. Kendall then pulled back slightly, just enough to observe you from above, his eyes roaming every detail of your body with overwhelming intensity. The smile that curved his lips was devilish, a mix of desire and triumph. He knew exactly what he was doing—and he loved the way you reacted, your breathing quickened, your eyes fixed on him, begging without saying a word. “You have no idea how beautiful you look like this,” he murmured, his voice husky as his fingers traced a slow, deliberate path across your skin. He was savoring every moment, stretching the tension as you felt the heat build, the anticipation becoming almost unbearable. Your breathing was ragged, as if each moment of waiting stole a little more of your breath. Your eyes shone, almost teary, such was the intensity of desire that ran through the room, electrifying every movement.

Delicately, you raised your body a little, supporting yourself with one hand. This gesture made your faces dangerously close, just a few inches apart. His breathing mingled with yours, hot and accelerated, and Kendall's eyes automatically dropped to your parted lips, now so close that he seemed hypnotized by them.

You took advantage of the hesitation, this delicious distraction, and with your other hand let your fingers slide slowly to his belt. Your movements were intentional, soft, but full of an undeniable promise. When your fingers curved around his belt, you tugged lightly, enough to get his attention and claim a little more control in that silent dance of provocation.

— Please, Ken… — Your voice was low, hoarse, a whisper that carried within it a plea and, at the same time, a veiled order. It sounded like a prayer, a desire materialized in words, angelic and overwhelming.

His eyes returned to yours, intense, as if those few words had crumbled any resistance he still had. But you didn’t stop there. Your expression softened for a moment before a bold smile appeared, echoing the energy he had exuded minutes before.

— I thought you wanted to fuck me. — The sentence came out with an almost challenging tone, as if you were testing his limits, playing the same game as him.

The smile that formed on Kendall's lips was slow, dark, a reflection of how those words had ignited something even fiercer inside him. In one decisive movement, he closed the distance between you, claiming your mouth with a kiss that was anything but restrained.

Distracting you completely, he took advantage of the moment when your attention was lost to slide his fingers deftly. The thin fabric was pulled aside without you noticing right away, giving him space to explore your hot, sensitive skin. When his fingers finally found the center of your desire, dragging slowly, collecting the moisture that revealed how much you wanted him, the sound that escaped your lips was involuntary — a low, hoarse moan, filled with pure need.

Kendall broke the kiss, but didn't pull away completely. His forehead remained pressed against yours, and your heavy breathing mingled with his, creating an intimate space, almost suffocating in its intensity. He continued the slow, mesmerizing movement, his fingers mapping every nuance of your reaction until, without warning, he positioned them at your entrance.

The sensation was immediate and overwhelming. From his point of view, it was a spectacle to see how your body reacted, arching involuntarily, as if you were offering yourself even more to him, silently begging him not to stop. When he finally invaded you with his fingers, a wonderful moan escaped you—a sound he had never forgotten and that seemed to echo in his memory, as addictive as the moment itself.

Your eyes closed as an automatic reaction, surrendering to the whirlwind of sensations. Your head fell back, leaving your neck exposed, while your body became a symphony of electric sensations. Every movement of his hand sent waves of pleasure through your body, making you move in tune with him, seeking more, wanting everything he could give. Kendall watched your every reaction as if it were a prize, his gaze fixed on the movement of your head, on the subtle tremor of your body under his touch. He wanted to prolong this moment, to engrave every detail in his memory. With his fingers still inside you, he began to move at a firmer pace, exploring your insides with precision, as if he already knew exactly where to touch to make you fall apart. “Look at me.” His voice came husky, low, almost a whisper. Your eyes opened slowly, meeting his. The dark, focused look he wore was almost overwhelming, but behind it, there was something else—pure admiration or a desire so intense that it seemed to swallow everything around it, including you. “Ken… Please…” Your voice came out almost as a whisper, a plea full of vulnerability and need. The weight of the moment felt overwhelming. Your senses were all focused on him; every touch, every movement made you lose any sense of control. Your eyes blinked erratically, barely able to stay open, while your vision began to blur. Your body gave him away in every possible way, especially with the way your walls contracted, revealing that you were reaching your limit. Kendall noticed immediately, and a slow, triumphant smile formed on his lips. He leaned closer, until his mouth was next to your ear. “You have no idea how much I missed this.” His voice was low, husky, almost a moan, but the words carried a weight that indicated how much he had stored up that feeling. Every syllable of his seemed to set something on fire inside you. But at that point, the world around you disappeared completely. You couldn’t hear anything anymore; everything was a blur of sensations and emotions. Your eyes rolled back with the intensity of the pleasure, and your nails dug into the fabric of his shirt, almost to the point of tearing it. Kendall loved seeing you like this, so surrendered, so dominated by what he was doing. He left a wet kiss on your neck before whispering with a mixture of fascination and desire: “You’re perfect… absolutely perfect.” Your mind was already so far away, lost in the sensations that dominated your body, that nothing else seemed to matter, except the pleasure that flowed in waves across your skin. Suddenly, that sensation exploded, overwhelming and intense, and you lost all sense of control. Your legs trembled uncontrollably, and your body arched off the couch, as if you wanted to escape from yourself, your eyes closed and your voice released in loud moans, revealing how deeply you were immersed in that moment. Kendall watched you, amazed, as if he was unable to believe the raw and pure beauty before him. His vision was blurry, but the pleasure on his face made everything around him disappear. He kept moving, guiding you until the last bit of pleasure ran down your hands, as if he wanted to prolong that ecstasy, bringing with him the fabric that, by now, was completely soaked.

When he pulled away, it was with the same reverence that he treated the moment — amazed and cautious, but at the same time thirsty for more. He leaned over you, enchanted by the way you tried to catch your breath, as if the air had been knocked out of your body. He thought you would need some time, maybe some space to recover. But instead, you pulled him firmly, wrapping your hands in his hair, deepening the kiss with a fierce urgency.

He didn't have time to react before you pushed your body back, making him settle more comfortably on the couch. You stood up smoothly, with the confidence of someone who already had control of the situation, and settled on his lap, your defiant gaze like a flame that only intensified.

With a mischievous smile on your lips, you began to slowly unbutton his shirt, each open button a silent invitation for the next step. And, with a low voice, full of desire, you declared:

"You still have too many clothes on."

The desire in your gaze was immediate, and the tension in the air, palpable. He knew there was no turning back.

Of course, here's the continuation:

Kendall felt the provocation in your words as an irresistible invitation, and his body reacted instantly, a deep desire taking over every movement. With eager hands, he finished what you had started, taking off his shirt in a hurry, as if every second was crucial. The heat between you increased with each touch, with each shared sigh.

When the last piece of clothing was gone, he pulled you back into a deep kiss, more desperate now, as if words were no longer necessary. He wanted nothing more than you, the intensity of his desire reflected in every gesture, in every look. You let him guide you, but you also challenged him with your own will, your movements flowing in tune with his. There was no rush, but there was no hesitation either — just the certainty that this moment was just for you.

Your bodies met in a way that seemed to be the sole purpose of your existence at that moment. Pleasure took shape, amplified by the genuine connection that was established between you. Kendall's hands roamed your skin with reverence, while you, in turn, guided him with the same intensity, both immersed in the moment without any more worries.

The room was filled with sighs and moans, like a silent melody. Each movement, each touch seemed more meaningful, as if you were surrendering to an inevitable destiny, a destiny that only the two of you could understand. And when the climax finally arrived, it was like an explosion of sensations, where time and space ceased to exist.

Kendall, still panting, remained there, your bodies intertwined and heated, with the rhythm slowing down as you both tried to catch your breath. The silence between you was filled only by your irregular breathing and the distant sound of the city outside. He raised his eyes to yours, the usual intensity softened by something rare—a tenderness you had never seen before. Without saying anything, he leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss, this time slow and tender, as if the world outside didn’t exist, as if in that moment, only the two of you were real.

When he finally pulled away, just enough to look at your face, you laughed softly, breaking the silence.

“We should go to the bedroom now.” Your voice was low, almost playful, but without taking away the closeness between you.

He smiled, still with a trace of that expression that seemed reserved only for you, and nodded.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He agreed, adjusting himself and closing his pants with quick movements. Then, before you could react or say anything else, Kendall wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly and standing up with one decisive movement.

You let out a surprised laugh, the soft sound filling the space around you, but you made no attempt to intervene. Instead, you let yourself be carried away, feeling safe in his arms as he walked towards the bedroom.

After getting ready for bed, the room was plunged into a peaceful darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains. Kendall lay down next to you, watching as you snuggled into him, so naturally, as if the last few months had not created this distance between you. He could feel the heat of your body against his, your breathing slowing as sleep began to approach.

The silence was comfortable, but in his mind, emotions were a whirlwind. You were there. No matter how much reason screamed that maybe it was just for that night, his heart was filled with a deep satisfaction, almost a peace he hadn't felt in a long time. Having you so close, the way you always were, made him feel that, for a brief moment, everything was right in the world. Kendall couldn't take his eyes off you. Your relaxed face, your slightly parted lips, the way you moved to get even closer to him. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to record every detail of that moment, as if it were possible to keep it intact forever. She's back? — the question echoed in his mind, bringing a subtle fear, but he refused to let it ruin the moment. For now, you were here, and he would enjoy it as much as he could. He lightly ran his fingers through your hair, a touch so delicate that it was almost unnoticed, but for him it was another reminder that you were real. Finally, he settled in better, pulling you closer, wrapping his arm around you in an almost possessive gesture. A soft expression, almost of relief, took over his face as he felt your body mold itself to his.

“I missed you,” he whispered softly, almost afraid to break the spell of that night. Even without an answer, he knew you heard, or at least felt it. And that was enough.

The sound of your cell phone broke the cozy silence of the room, slowly pulling you from a deep sleep. Still a little groggy, consciousness came in fragments: Kendall’s shirt covering your body, the warmth of the bed that seemed more comfortable than anything else, and his rhythmic breathing beside you.

When you opened your eyes, you remembered where you were. Your phone was nowhere to be seen, which meant you had probably forgotten it in the living room. When you turned around, Kendall was still sleeping, his features relaxed, his breathing slow and even. His tranquility seemed rare, almost as if he were far from the weight he carried during the day.

You didn’t want to wake him. You quickly put on his shirt, feeling the soft, slightly looser fabric against your body, before going in search of your phone.

When you reached the living room, the state of things brought back flashes of the night before: the knocked over glasses, the dry wine on the floor, the crumpled pillows scattered across the couch and carpet, and your torn dress abandoned near your heels. You stopped for a moment, taking in the scene and feeling a slight blush rise to your face.

It wasn't just the mess that caught your attention — it was the weight of what it represented. The intensity of the night before seemed to be stamped on every detail, from the torn fabric to the marks on the couch.

It was then that you heard a noise coming from the kitchen, the clear sound of someone moving utensils. The team was already on the move. A touch of panic ran through your body when you realized that you were only wearing Kendall's shirt, and nothing else. Before anyone could notice your presence, you turned on your heel and ran back to the bedroom.

As you entered, trying to silence your hurried footsteps, Kendall spoke, taking you by surprise:

“What are you running away from?”

His hoarse voice, marked by sleep, carried an amused tone that disarmed you. You glanced at him quickly, still near the door, and found him half-lying down, his eyes half-open and a lazy smile that made him seem dangerously charming.

“I forgot to pick up my cell phone yesterday…” You answered, almost breathless, walking back to bed.

When you lay down, Kendall turned slightly, resting his head on his arm as he watched you. His eyes were intense, but there was no rush—just a calm admiration, as if he was absorbing every detail of you there.

“You know you look beautiful like this, right?” He said, effortlessly, with a low, serious voice.

The sincerity in his words made your heart skip a little beat. You didn’t answer, but your expression gave it all away. Kendall reached out, his fingers slowly tracing the line of your jaw, moving up to brush back a strand of hair that had fallen over your face. His touch was gentle, almost as if he feared breaking the moment. He leaned in, the movement slow and intentional, until his lips met yours. The kiss was soft, full of a silent affection that seemed to hold something deeper—something he perhaps didn’t yet know how to express. When he pulled away, you smiled softly, the heat of the moment still pulsing between you. He lay back down, pulling you close to him, and you snuggled into his chest, feeling the slow rhythm of his breathing. For a moment, everything felt right, as if the world outside had ceased to exist.

In the end, for Kendall it was like knocking on the doors of heaven asking to come back, and ending up being accepted back.

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