#shiv roy fics

[reveriexxgirlly]

you want a piece of me ? (repost)

Shiv Roy x Fem!Reader SMUT

Prompt: I want Shiv to dom and humiliate me, okay ?

Warnings: oral, orgasm denial, voyerism, fingering, squirting

Word Count: 2.0k

                                  ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤　enjoy !　﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ

“Oh my god, don’t stop. Please, don't- Fuck!"

I felt a sharp pain on my ass. I looked down and saw Shiv peering at me from between my legs with her glossy lips scowling at me.

“God, can’t you shut up? Do you want us to get caught?”

Shiv used the hand that slapped me to grip the fleshy part of my ass and started digging her nails into my skin.

I almost moaned out loud until I caught myself and quickly clamped my hand over my mouth to muffle my sounds.

“That's better.” Shiv said as she began giving me butterfly kisses on my inner thigh while I was trying to catch my breath.

“I’m sorry. I promise to shut up, just don’t stop. It feels so good.”

I responded with a sense of urgency because it was only a matter of time before everyone, specifically Tom, would begin to wonder where Shiv was.

Shiv smirked at my desperation, pleased that even though she was on her knees eating me out, it was her that was in control.

“Good girl.” That was the last thing she said before moving her head back to my center, taking my clit between her lips, and began sucking on it softly.

I clamped my hand over my mouth again and bit down on my palm hard. Stopping myself from letting out another loud moan. 

How the fuck did I get here? I came to this celebratory event for Waystar as Roman’s date, and now I’m in the women’s bathroom with his sister's face between my legs. Why did I let this happen?

I looked down to admire the sight before me. I was leaning against the wall with one leg holding me upright and the other on Shiv’s shoulder. Her eyes closed in complete bliss, as if she was savoring the taste.

Although her suckling made it hard to stand on a wobbly leg, it wasn't enough to make me cum. It wasn't like we had all the time in the world.

I tried moving my hips against her lips to reach an orgasm faster, but she kept pushing my hips against the wall to keep me still.

“Shiv, I need more.”

“Aw baby, you're not the one calling the shots here. I am.”

“We need to hurry, people are waiting for us. Tom is probably wonderi-”

“Don't say his fucking name.”

She gave me a cold stare. I seemed to have struck a nerve mentioning Tom, given the situation. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up Tom.”

Shiv stared at me as she was thinking, tapping her slender and manicured pointer finger on my thigh. After a few seconds her face lit up. All she needed was a light bulb on top of her head. 

“You know what, you’re right.”

“W- what?”

Shiv placed a final kiss on my clit, making me shiver from her light touch. She got up from between my legs and fixed up my dress. Making sure I looked presentable. Then she grabbed my panties from the ground before leaving the stall we were in and throwing them away in the trash bin. 

I stayed in the stall feeling stunned before desperation hit me once I realized I didn’t cum. I walked out to see Shiv standing in front of the mirror, reapplying her lipstick. 

“We should be getting back. You were right, we were gone for too long.” Shiv said nonchalantly.

“But...” I couldn’t finish my sentence, feeling foolish for what I was going to complain about. I looked down at the ground in shame.

“But what?” Shiv said turning to look at me with a bored expression.

“I didn’t get to cum.” I said quietly, glancing up at her and seeing Shiv pout her lips mockingly before she cupped my face with both hands and forced me to look up at her. 

“Baby, don’t worry. We’ll get to that later.”

Shiv said with a mischievous smirk, that both confused and worried me.

“Come on.”

Shiv said before she taking hand and pulling me out of the bathroom. We were walking through a crowd of wealthy people bickering, when Shiv finally spotted Tom. She let go of my hand and walked toward him.

“Shiv!” Tom said excited to see her as if she just arrived from a long trip when it’s only been 20 minutes.

“Hi honey.”

Shiv leaned up to Tom's face, who wanted to kiss her on the lips, but she avoided it and kissed him on his cheek instead. He was a little embarrassed by this, but considering she was eating me out a few minutes ago, I was grateful.

I cleared my throat before speaking up. 

“Hi Tom, where’s Roman?”

"I think he’s at the bar getting a drink with Logan.”

“Where were you guys?”

I was about to respond when Shiv beat me to it.

“Y/N and I were just in the bathroom talking.”

Tom was nodding at Shiv, then an announcement was made for everyone to take their seats since the speeches were about to begin.

“Shall we.”

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

It had been a few minutes since we all took our seats. I sat next to Shiv on my right, and there was a reserved seat for Roman on my left. It’s then I began to wonder where he was.

“What up, cum dumps?”

We all whipped our heads at Roman, walking up to our table, who looked so proud of his vulgarity. While Tom and I stared at him in bewilderment, Shiv rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Hi Roman. Where were you?”

I said as he was taking a seat next to me. He looked at me, and his face lit up like he remembered that I was his date.

“I was talking to ol’ daddy about business, nothing too major.” Roman said, brushing off the situation like it was nothing.

“The better question is where were you? I didn’t see you around the room for like 30 minutes.”

I could feel the tension in the air when he asked that question, but of course, no one but Shiv and I could feel it.

“I went to the bathroom with Shiv.”

“What took you guys so long? Were you flickin’ each other’s clits in there?”

“Roman!”

Shiv scolded him, and Roman pretended to look scared of his sister’s irritation.

“No we were just talking, I didn’t realize how much time was passing us by.”

I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. I didn’t want Roman, out of all people, to catch on to what was going on between me and Shiv.

Before he could question me any further, the party planner spoke into the microphone. I let out a breath of relief, but during his speech I remembered the wetness between my legs, feeling it between my thighs. I hoped it wouldn’t seep into my gown, so I crossed my legs to try to prevent that.

I was squirming in my seat, and Shiv must’ve noticed because she leaned back into her chair and placed her hand on my thigh.

I tensed at the action and straightened my posture. I could see from my peripheral vision that it made Shiv smile.

Luck played a huge part in this situation. We were close to the stage, but behind us were walls from the sides of the room. Tom faced away from me, Shiv, and Roman, who paid no attention to me. Switching his attention from the person speaking on stage to looking at his phone. Not to mention the large white table cloth covering what went on underneath.

Shiv used her fingers to slowly pull my gown up to my hips. The action fed into my anticipation, although I worried that people would happen to catch on to what was going on under the table. 

Once the fabric gathered on my hips, she placed her hand on top of my thigh and lightly gripped the flesh to uncross my legs. I felt the cold breeze of the air conditioning brush against my wet lips, making me feel exposed in front of all these people. That’s when I thought back to when Shiv threw away my panties earlier for this purpose.

She started teasing me by running her fingers through my unshaven pubic hair, which was covered in my slick. I bucked my hips into her hand as a sign to give me more, resulting in a pinch in my inner thigh. I squeaked at the sharp pain but covered it with a cough. 

I turned to look at her, and her attention was on the guest speaker on stage, still smiling at our current situation. She glanced at me, noticing my teary eyes and the pout on my lips, and decided to give in. 

Shiv’s fingers landed on my clit and rubbed slow and tight circles. My pussy was so wet it spread everywhere from my lips to my clit, so she didn’t need extra lubrication. 

It continued until the entertainment for the night started, an interpretive dance which meant that loud music would be blaring throughout the room. So Shiv took the opportunity to slip her middle finger into my dripping hole. 

Unlike her gentle touch on my clit her pace started to get a more aggressive. The wet sounds of her fingers slapping against my pussy were being masked by the orchestra. The louder the music got, the faster and harsher her pace would be. 

There were moments when I wanted to scream, but I made sure to bite my bottom lip extra hard to prevent any sounds from escaping my mouth. I almost failed when Shiv added her ring finger into my pussy. 

It was starting to become too much, and her rough thrusts into my slit were resulting in her palm repeatedly slapping against clit, bringing me closer to an orgasm. 

I squeezed her wrist between my legs to let her know I was close. She seemed to get the hint and started going impossibly faster than before. My orgasm finally hit me, but this time felt different. I felt like I had to pee but I didn’t want to cause a scene so I relaxed as much as I could and let my pussy gush all over her fingers. 

I shivered from the aftershocks of my orgasm. I pushed Shiv's hand away when I started feeling overstimulated, and Shiv got the hint and pulled away. She grabbed her cloth napkin and wiped her hand. I noticed that not only her fingers but her wrist were wet. I looked down and noticed that the bottom hem of the tablecloth was drenched. I had squirted under the table and all over the cloth.

I panicked and pushed my dress down and back into place. I looked around the room to make sure no one witnessed the event that happened under the table. I felt relief when I saw that everyone appeared to be unbothered and slightly bored. I turned my attention back to the stage, and the rest of the ceremony continued as planned. 

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

When the event was over, I waited for my Uber on the curb in front of the building where the event was held. Roman offered to give me a ride as long as it was back to his place. I eagerly declined and hoped it would be the last of any invitations from Roman Roy.

“Y/N!” 

I heard someone call my name and turned around and saw Shiv lifting up her dress a bit as she was speed walking towards me.

“Shiv, what’s up?”

“I forgot to give you this.”

She handed me her business card. I was confused until I turned the card over and noticed her personal number written in pen. I started blushing at the thought of our future meet-ups being similar to tonight.

"We should definitely make plans to meet up next week because I think owe you more than one.”

She was pleasantly surprised by my answer and smirked before she leaned in, her lips nearly touching my ear.

“Can’t wait.”

She whispered before she kissed my cheek and again on the other one so it would seem like a normal goodbye gesture to others.

Shiv gave me a final wink before she walked away to her ride back home with Tom. 

I turned back around to wait for my ride and thought further about ways I could return the favor. 

[blorbocedes]

Hiii - for the fic prompts:

girlcedes - 7. Trapped in a room/closet/elevator

Lewis is glaring at Nico like she orchestrated this.

"I have places to be too." Nico says out loud, in her general direction. They're standing as far you can socially distance on an elevator. An elevator that the intercom buzzed in and reported would take fifteen minutes to send in the guys to fix. That was twenty minutes ago. Such glitz and glamour to live in Monaco.

"Not you. Claustrophobia." Lewis grits her teeth. She's sitting in a corner, squatting in her Dior running shoes. Probably showing off her knees can still take it.

Nico's leaning by the glass mirror because she's wearing a white pantsuit.

Oh right. Claustrophobia. Nico always forgets because it's always funny, the cars they drive in is more cramped than the spacious elevator. But it's about control, she gets that. Lewis in a Formula 1 car is just an extension of her body. But Lewis would always keep the door of the drivers room open, back in Mercedes.

"How are you scared of this and not jumping off a plane? It should be child's cake to you. Hm, that's not right. Child's play?" Nico frowns trying to locate the metaphor in the medley of languages in her brain. She speaks mostly to keep Lewis distracted. Nico herself is not, her positive outlook mantras covered this. Negative thoughts cannot happen if you don't let it. That's why she never checked her portfolio after the AI company she invested in rugpulled millions. It simply does not exist if she doesn't give it the power to.

"Skydiving is incredibly safe," Lewis bites the bait, "It's safer than scuba diving. And you're in control the whole time."

"All it takes is one parachute not opening." Nico shrugs. Even the thought makes her shudder. Absolutely not.

"Good thing they strap you with two then." Lewis drawls. She doesn't say it, too graceful these days, but the idiot is implied.

Nico rolls her eyes but is beaten in the marketplace of ideas.

She turns to the mirror, her shoulder length blonde hair bouncing. There's a pimple cropping up under her chin, she can feel it. She presses down on it, warning it to stay there.

"Don't do that - you look fine." Lewis is frowning, looking up at Nico from where she's crouched.

Nico used to obsessively poke and prod at her face staring at the mirror as a teenager. She's a little embarrassed Lewis remembers from their days of sharing rooms during karting.

"It's the only mirror time I get. Vivi and I are very mindful of not passing any body insecurities to the girls. Entering the pre-teens is a very impressionable time." Nico explains. She doesn't need her daughters rubbing off on her complexes.

Lewis gets up, lithe like a cat, in her oversized crewneck. She looks pointedly at the lack of ring on Nico's hand. "How's the divorce going?"

Nico purses her lips. "Conscious uncoupling. Very well, thank you. How's Ferrari?" She switches the subject. "Learn any Italian yet?"

"I've downloaded Duolingo." Lewis smiles, sheepishly, the gap in her teeth is still charming even after all these years.

"I remember teaching you some." In bed, tangled up in each other, another lifetime ago.

"I'm sure none of that was usable, man."

"Hm. You should try ti va di fare dolce su e giù?" Nico smirks.

"What does it mean?" Lewis asks.

Nico just smiles in that way when she knows something Lewis doesn't. "I'm sure Leclerc will be down. Happy to... accommodate." The double entendre in her voice gives it away.

Lewis takes a step closer, her hand on the railing where Nico is standing. And suddenly, the elevator feels like a much smaller space, with nowhere to hide. She shakes her head, the rings on her tattooed hands glittering. Nico feels strangely naked without hers. "He's not my type."

Nico leans forward. "And who is?"

The elevator doors ding open. They are on Lewis' floor.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Clandestine. Part Four.

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

Chapter Synopsis - Death puts everything into perspective.

Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x Female Roy!Reader

Warnings - cursing. lots of talk about grief.

Word Count - 3k

Author’s Note - now I might just be the last person on tumblr still writing for stewy, but I am determined to finish this series. let’s ignore the fact it’s been a year since I updated it, shall we? one more part of this to go!! thank you, if you’re still here for my succession stuff <3

Series Masterlist. Main Masterlist. Inbox.

You’re floating around in a daze.

It’s been a week since Connor’s phone call. A week since the formidable Logan Roy died on the floor of his private plane, surrounded by his closest employees. A week since you’ve seen Stewy.

You’ve been crashing in Roman’s guest room, neither of you wanting to be alone. You go to your Dad’s apartment, have meetings with old white men that all look the same, pop into the office every now and again and go home to your brothers. You were barely speaking to Kendall before all of this happening, never mind now. You can’t remember the last time the two of you said more than three words to each other.

You’re sat at Roman’s dinner table when a strange feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You watch him picking at his salad for a minute before you say anything.

“Have you… spoke to Kendall? Like, over the last few days?”

Roman looks confused by the question, but doesn’t voice it.

“Yeah, here and there. You guys are in a fight, right?”

“Uh, yeah. We were. I guess we still are. I’m just… worried about him. God knows his mental health has been in the gutter recently anyway, but now Dad’s dead, and… I don’t know. It just can’t end well, right?”

“All we can do is keep an eye on him, I guess. He won’t fucking accept it even if we try and help, so.”

“Yeah.”

You move the chicken around on your plate with your fork, neither of you having much of an appetite recently.

“So, you never told me what your fight was about. It all seems like this big ass fucking secret that only Roman doesn’t know about.”

You’re a little taken aback by Romans candour. Usually he’s pretty avoidant, happy to live with the not knowing. He’s done with that, apparently.

“You’re not the only one that doesn’t know, Rome. Ken is the only one that does.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why? Why does everyone include Kendall in everything and leave me on the fucking sidelines? Why am I always the one who doesn’t get the joke, who doesn’t know the secret?”

“Rome-”

“I know he’s your favourite, but Jesus. You could at least try and include me sometimes.”

“Roman.”

“What?”

“Kendall only ‘knows the secret’ because he… walked in on the secret. Not because I sought him out and told him, or anything like that. I promise.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

With what has happened over the past week, your perspective on almost everything has changed. Keeping your secret is no longer top priority - or priority at all. You’re realising that you don’t care, because it doesn’t matter. Not much really matters.

“I’m in love with Stewy.”

Roman’s silent for a moment, processing.

“Hosseini?”

You can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, Rome. Hosseini. Do you know any other Stewys?”

He shakes his head, still visibly confused.

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“Tell him what?”

“That you’re in love with him.”

“Oh. Oh. Yeah, um… he already knows. We - we’re in love. With each other. We’re dating.”

“You’re dating him?”

“That’s crazier than me being in love with him one sided?”

“Uh, yeah.”

You chuckle, looking at him for a moment before a grin breaks out across his face. He’s always been the most easy going of your brothers, the most understanding. You’ve always felt a comfort in talking to Roman - he’s more open minded than he appears. He’s a surprisingly good listener, even when you think your problems are trivial or stupid.

“For how long?”

“Fuck, I don’t even know. Two years, give or take?”

“Two years?”

“Are you mad?”

“Mad? I’m mad impressed, Princess. I didn’t think you’d be able to keep a big secret like that from me for that long.”

“So you don’t hate me?”

You’re suddenly vulnerable, terrified that your big brother is going to think less of you. Your brothers are all you have, all you’ve ever had. The four of you learned to survive with each other, with no help from parents or nannies or any kind of adult. You have nothing if you don’t have your brothers.

“I don’t hate you, dummy. I could never hate you.”

You stand up and make your way over to him, perching on his leg like you used to when you were kids. You wrap your arms around his neck, exhaling when he wraps his around your middle.

“Love you, Rome,” you whisper. “Even if you are a pain in my ass.”

“Yeah, love you too,” he murmurs. “Even if you do keep important secrets from me.”

“I promise I won’t keep anything from you ever again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Promise. No more secrets.”

You pull back but stay sat on his lap, feeling six years old again, taking solace in the presence of your big brother.

“So Kendall… walked in on you?”

“He saw us leaving the gala together and got suspicious. He showed up at Stewy’s apartment the next morning, banging on the door and asking where I was.”

“Oh shit,” he laughs.

“It’s not funny,” you retort, but you’re holding back your giggles as you do it.

“And I’m guessing he didn’t take it well.”

“Not at all. He was cycling between yelling and swearing and then sitting really quietly just… staring into space. Then he got personal, which was expected, but that pissed Stewy off, so the whole thing got awkward again. It was… horrendous.”

“He’s horrible at feelings.”

“Says Mr Communication over here.”

He shoves you off his lap, chuckling when you slide onto the floor. You punch him in the arm as you get up, returning to your original seat. You sit in silence for a moment, neither of you quite sure how to continue.

“What now?”

“I… don’t know, Rome. I just don’t know.”

“I mean, the world hasn’t stopped spinning. Maybe it feels like it has for us, but everyone else has carried on.”

You’re confused by your brother’s sudden wisdom, until it clicks for you.

He’s free.

Sure, he’s grieving. You all are. But he’s lighter. Laughs a little easier. Gives out advice quicker.

He’s free.

You all are.

The shackles your father had placed on all four of you are broken. You are no longer bound to him or Waystar or his insane ideals as to what family should be or do or say.

“I need to get out.”

“What?” Roman asks as he cocks his head, quirking a brow at you in curiosity.

“I don’t want to be a part of this anymore. This… constant cycle of destruction and deception and stabbing people in the back. It won’t stop now that Dad’s dead. It’s the very foundation that his business is built on.”

“So you’re gonna… leave?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna sell my shares and I’m gonna get the fuck out.”

Roman laughs, now, all big and bold and beautiful. You don’t know what’s funny, but you can’t help but laugh with him.

“I am too.”

“Wait… what?”

“I’m doing the same.”

“Roman.”

“I’m serious. I don’t know who CEO is gonna be, but it isn’t gonna be me. It’ll be Kendall or Tom or someone completely different, but we all know neither you or I are capable.”

“Jeez. Thanks.”

“You’re telling me you could run the entire Waystar business?”

You roll your eyes, kicking him under the table.

“Obviously I fucking couldn’t. But at least pretend to have a little bit more faith in me.”

Your brother chuckles, leaning back in his chair.

“We’re not built for it, you and me. We’re meant for something different. Something better, Princess.”

You nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

“What about Kendall?”

“What about him?”

“I feel like we’re… abandoning him.”

Rome looks solemn, suddenly, thinking about your older brother.

“He’ll come around, you know. And he’ll understand. That’s the thing about Kendall - he can’t hold a grudge to save his life. He tries, but he can’t.”

A tear rolls down your cheek, lump in your throat choking any words that try to escape.

“Hey, hey,” Roman soothes as he walks over, standing above you.

He swipes his thumb across your cheekbone, wiping away your sadness.

“He loves you more than anything, you know.”

You shake your head, so your brother doubles down.

“He does. You’ve always been his favourite. He’d do anything for you - anything at all. He’s mad because you and Stewy kept a secret from him, not because you’re together. Trust me.”

“He looked at me that day like he hated me.”

“He couldn’t hate you if he tried. He’s just… emotionally unavailable. Everyone knows this.”

“I miss him,” you whisper, lip trembling. “I miss my brother.”

You’re taken aback by how much you miss Kendall, suddenly. You miss him so much more than you miss Logan, or your Mom.

“Give him time. That’s all he needs. He misses you, I know he does. But you know what he’s like when he feels betrayed. He shuts down and gets all aggressive.”

You look up at Roman, gentle smile making its way onto your face.

“When did you get so smart, huh?”

“I’ve always been smart,” he laughs. “Everyone underestimates me.”

“That they do.”

“Well, not anymore. We’re getting out.”

“We’re getting out,” you repeat, finally allowing yourself to feel happiness at the prospect. “We’re gonna get the fuck out.”

“Talk to Stewy about selling your shares and let me know what he says. The sooner, the better.”

“I will. I’m excited, Rome. The world is our oyster.”

“Me too,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. “We’ll go to the funeral, and then we’ll never have to see any of those assholes ever again.”

“I can’t wait to not have to look at Karl’s stupid fucking face every day.”

Roman keels over laughing, wheezing as he clutches his stomach. You’re crying with laughter too, both of you lighter and freer than you’ve ever been.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“You sure about this, Rome?”

“One hundred percent.”

You hug him tightly as you say goodbye, smiling when he presses a kiss into your hair.

“I’ll let you know what Stewy says tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Princess. Call me if you need anything.”

“You too. Anything.”

He ruffles your hair before sending you on your way, waiting at the front door to watch you go.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“Stewy? You home?”

You drop your bags by the front door, kicking off your shoes and jacket as you do it. You’re about to yell again when he comes running around the corner, sliding across the wood floors in his socks.

“Baby.”

He breathes it, as if he can’t believe you’re really standing in front of him again.

“Missed you, Hosseini.”

You fly into his arms, burying yourself as deep as you can in his chest. His old, worn t shirt is soft and grey and smells like the love of your life and all of his memories spent at home. He tightens his grip on you, pulling you impossibly closer.

“How are you?” he asks without letting go, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I’m okay. I’m good, actually. Really good.”

“Yeah?”

Now he pulls away to look at you, confused by the sudden change of heart. When you left to go to Roman’s a week ago, you were a shell of a woman, a little girl without a dad. Now, you’re back, brighter and more alive than ever.

“Yeah.”

You look at him, really look at him, for a moment, before taking a deep breath and saying the words you’ve been dying to say.

“Marry me, Stewy.”

He staggers back as if you’ve hit him, eyes blown wide.

“W-what?”

“Marry me.”

He inhales, exhaling shakily before stepping forward to cradle your face in his hands.

“Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?”

“Maybe,” you laugh. “But I guess I got there first.”

“Honey, forgive me if I’m a little confused, but… you just came back after being gone for a week because your dad died and now you’re… proposing?”

“Me and Roman are leaving Waystar,” you explain. “We’re selling our shares and getting the fuck out.”

“Shit. Really?”

“Really. The only thing stopping me from leaving years ago was the fear of disappointing my dad, and now he’s gone. So… there’s nothing keeping me there. I wanna do something else. Something for me.”

“Yeah?”

He’s grinning, beaming at you from ear to ear. Light is practically pouring from him, radiating in all directions.

“Yeah,” you half yell, leaning up to press an excited kiss to his lips. “I’m done, Stewy. I’m free.”

He picks you up, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you spin. You shriek with laughter, the world blurring as it whizzes past you. Eventually he puts you down, both of you breathless.

“Life’s too short. I need to start living it.”

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you so much. More than anything.”

You kiss him tenderly, gentle and sweet and filled with so much adoration.

“So, back to my original question…”

“Wait,” he interrupts, halting your speech. “Let me do this the right way.”

With that, he runs off towards the bedroom, leaving you stood in the hallway as confused as ever. You wait patiently, desperate to be privy to his plans.

When he returns, still in his pyjamas, he kisses you softly before getting down on one knee, ring box in his hand.

“Honey. You are the love of my goddamn life. I bought this ring after we’d been dating for… three months? Call me crazy, but I knew. I just knew. It was always going to be me and you. Always.”

Your hands are shaking, breath caught in your chest as you try to soak in every second of this moment.

“So…. how do you feel about becoming Mrs Hosseini?”

“I can’t think of anything I’d love more.”

“Is that a yes?”

“The biggest, most sure yes of my entire life. Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes.”

He swoops you up into his arms, kissing you with more passion than you ever thought possible. You slip your tongue into his mouth cheekily, tangling your fingers into his hair to pull him closer as he groans.

You finally pull away for air, both of you panting like you’ve just run a marathon. Your eyes well up suddenly, a tear falling without you realising.

“You okay?” he murmurs, thumbs rubbing circles into your cheekbones.

“I’m so happy,” you whisper. “I feel like today is the first day of the rest of my life.”

“So do I,” he agrees, looking down at you with so much love you it makes your knees buckle. “Baby… if you’re getting out, then I’m getting out.”

“Wait, what?”

“If you want to get out of Waystar, I’m not gonna stay. If you’re washing your hands of it, then I am too.”

“But… your money.”

“Honey, those shares don’t mean shit to me. The only thing that matters is you.”

You look at him intently for a moment, searching for any traces of doubt. All you find is pure adoration.

“Stewy?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna keep that ring in the box forever?”

He throws his head back as he laughs, opening the velvet box to show you what’s inside. He slips it onto your finger with ease, the diamond sparkling perfectly on your hand.

“It’s so beautiful. I’m the luckiest person in the world, Mr Hosseini.”

“I think I have to disagree with you there, Mrs Hosseini.”

“Say it again.”

“Mrs Hosseini.”

“And again.”

He kisses you, mumbling against your lips.

“Mrs Hosseini.”

“Mhmm.”

“My wife. The prettiest girl in the world. Mrs Hosseini.”

You can’t help but grin into his mouth, buzzing with the energy of it all.

“Now, I was about to make dinner before you came home, but we can go out and celebrate if you want?”

You shake your head, snaking your arms around his neck.

“All I want right now is a night in with you - that’s all the celebration I need. Let’s make that pasta you like, and then we can watch old sitcom reruns on the couch.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Stewy slides his hand into yours, his thumb playing with the shiny band of the ring on your finger.

“It’s gonna be like this forever, you know. We get to do this for the rest of our lives.”

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” you breathe, resting your head on his shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

As the sun sets through the floor to ceiling windows, you and Stewy dance across the kitchen, slipping and sliding across the tiles.

Your heart skips a beat every time your ring catches the light.

Your heart skips a beat every time you look at your fiancé.

Your heart skips a beat every time you realise that you’re not dreaming.

This is your life. And you’ve never been more excited to live it.

@justacaliforniandreamer @616wilsons @shawty-writes-a-little @isuspectitwasthenargles @thinemineours @buckysbae @jolie989 @allcheesemelts @nosebeers

[shivroy]

future shiv

[wambsgansshoelaces]

prompt number 4 with shivvy please 😇

Honey

Prompt: “C’mere, you can sit in my lap until I’m done working.”

Siobhan Roy x Reader

summary: cuddles, baked goods, and insecurity

okay so a few things… this is my favorite fic I’ve ever written. I’m sorry that it’s so much shorter than everything else, but I’m sooo proud of it I love it so much it’s my little baby

I wrote way beyond the prompt, so I hope you don’t mind xx I was just making myself feel better haah xx

anon, thank you so much for requesting <3 I love you and I hope you love it xxx

tw for weight and eating talk. you’re beautiful, I love you, and you deserve the world, reader <3

Word Count: 1.628k

“Come on, babe, just give me another half hour.”

You’re perched on your girlfriend’s desk as she works. Shiv’s been here, at the Waystar office, since six in the morning. It’s now eleven P.M.

“You’ve been here for way too long,” you point out. She doesn’t say anything, absorbed in whatever it is she’s working on on her computer. “I wanna go home.” You pout at her, trying to earn some sympathy.

She heaves a sigh, going to type something. “Then go home.” Her voice comes out harsh, and you wince. She’s been overworking herself for weeks. You know she doesn’t mean to be snappy- it just happens to her. She gets overwhelmed, she gets frustrated, and she’s still working on being able to regulate her emotions when they’re negative. You frown at her from your spot on the corner of her desk. She stops herself, taking a short breath. “I’m sorry. I just really need to finish this stuff.” She rolls her chair closer to you and leans up, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss before going back to work.

“Love, what’re you even working on?” you ask softly, moving to hook your fingers around hers. She smiles, but keeps her eyes trained on her laptop.

“Just some campaign things. They need to be done before tomorrow afternoon, and I have meetings all morning…” She fiddles with one of the rings on your pointer finger.

“Look, do you know you really can’t wrap up now?”

“No, really, babe, I have to get this done-”

She’s interrupted by the noise you make sliding off her desk. “I’m sorry, it’s just- I’ve been here all day, Shiv. You have, too, and if you’re not going to come home with me…”

“What? You’re going? No, No.” She looks up at you, brow furrowed. “C’mere, you can sit in my lap until I’m done working.”

“Siobh-”

“Come on.”

With a sigh and dumb smile on your face, you go over and deposit yourself into her lap. She strokes up and down your thigh with one hand, reaching around you with the other. She sets her head on your shoulder and she continues to peer at whatever it is she’s doing.

You lean back into her, strangely content. You turn your head far enough to be able to kiss the side of her temple. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” she murmurs into your shirtsleeve. “You know, I like this.” Her hand shifts from your thigh to the side of your neck, her fingers hunting for a strand of hair to play with. She twists a soft lock around her fingers, pressing a lazy kiss into your shoulder.

"So, how's Weston doing?" you ask with a smirk on your face. You'd met him at one of her work parties, and she swore up and down that she had nothing to do with him. You believe her, obviously. You know she's only interested in you. But you know Weston's into her, and she's oblivious.

"He's been acting... strange lately. I think you scared him," she says, lips brushing over your neck. You laugh. You enjoy teasing her like this. You know she doesn't take it personally. She's just happy she gets to spend time with you, see you laughing, see your face split into that radiant fucking smile of yours.

"Ha! Good." You nuzzle into her, using your hips to burrow further into her lap. You can feel the heat rush through her body, her hand clamping down on your side. It's only a matter of seconds before her attention is off of you, to your dismay. "Shiv," you whine. "Enough work for the night. Please? For me?"

She lets out an airy sigh, pressing a kiss onto the back of your head, into your hair. “I’m sorry. Let’s go home.”

You take her chin and guide her mouth to yours.

She makes a satisfied noise against your lips. She tastes like honey. Honey crafted by Dionysus for one of his wines. She groans deeply when you shift in her lap, unintentionally grinding against her.

You get to your feet, Shiv following after packing up her things. Her computer bag slung over her shoulder and her hand in yours, she drags you through the parking garage. “Do you really have to go to work tomorrow?”

“What kind of question is that?” She pauses to toss her stuff into the back seat of your car while you climb into the driver’s seat. “But no. I’ll stay home. I know you have the day off.” She gives you a peck before you start driving.

God, you love staying home with her. Your life became infinitely better when you moved in with her. You were both so madly in love with one another. Life was in color when you were with you, in black and white when you weren’t.

Before she disappears into the bathroom to begin her nightly routine, she kisses you deeply. You’re sure you can get drunk off of the way she tastes alone. She tastes like pure sunlight. Like liquid gold.

She’s stressed, she has so much on her mind, so much to do. It’s getting late, but you want to do something for her. If you hurry, you think you can have your plan neatly executed before she’s inclined to go to sleep. As fast as you can, you find the spare dough from the last time you did this for her. You quickly roll everything out, shaping the cinnamon buns, and have a glaze and frosting made. You pour honey over the dough so that when you bite into the buns, the honey oozes out, warm and sweet. You dip them in the glaze and you have them in the oven under the half hour.

Shiv strolls out from the bathroom, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. God, her eyes. You can never look away from her eyes. Her silk pajamas leave most of her skin exposed- her supple thighs, her plush arms. Her hips fill out her shorts in a way that makes you embarrassingly hot and bothered. She's a goddess walking on earth unworthy of her. You want to drop everything you're doing in your life to just do whatever the fuck she asks of you. To spend the rest of your days with her. She's so fucking beautiful and you can't believe she's committed herself to you. You just love her so much. You feel so fucking lucky.

“What’s baking?” she asks, cuddling up to you on the couch. “It smells nice.” She takes your arm and puts it around her. Her cheek presses into your shoulder. She’s blinking back sleep, but she’s holding on. Anything to spend more time with you.

“Your favorite,” you murmur back.

“Are you sure? It’s late,” she says unconvincingly, looking up at you with a dreamy look on her face.

“You should treat yourself, Shivvy,” you tell her. Your expression is one loaded with affection. You hope you two never have to separate.

She kisses you quickly. “I love you.” Soon enough, your timer rings, and you get up to get the honey cinnamon buns out of the oven. She hovers over you as you set the tray on the counter. The steam swirls through the air, twirling between the two of you. Her arms wind around your waist, her head leaning into your neck. “I mean it. You’re the best human being on the planet.”

You kiss the top of her head. “You’re my girl. I’d do anything for you.”

She plants a warm kiss into the crook of your neck before grabbing a plate from the silverware cabinet. “Let’s share one!”

“Oh, uh, you can have it all,” you say quickly.

“No, you too. I can’t eat this all by myself.” She cuts the bun in half, settling both sides on the same plate so you could share. Like you always do.

“Um, I really shouldn’t be having any sugar,” you say meekly. “I’ve been gaining.” You look away, ashamed.

You’ve had issues with your body, with eating, for as long as you can remember. It was embarrassing to admit, but they started and childhood, and no matter how hard you fucking tried, they never went away. Especially as of recently.

Going to the gym, eating healthy. You did it all- or at least you thought it did. But you suppose not, because you were worse off than you started.

“Baby,” Shiv says incredulously. “Gaining? Where? If anything, it’s muscle.” She nudges you with her hip. She can tell when things run deep. This is one of them. “Come on. You can’t actually think you need to lose weight.” When you don’t say anything, she presses on. “Is this a self confidence thing? You’re literally the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re hips are the sexiest thing-”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, let’s just eat?”

“No, no, I’m solving this issue,” she insists. “I don’t care if you’re a little chubby- which you’re not -because that doesn’t mean anything. You’re healthy, you’re a smoke show, so what’s it fucking matter?”

She drops the knife she was waving around while she spoke, instead coming over to smooth her hands over your jaw and give you a nice, long kiss. She pulls away and presses a fat kiss to the spot just above your belly button.

The two of you eat together, you albeit hesitantly, but she urges you on. You’re glad you have her. She’s everything to you, and you’re everything to her.

When you kiss her the last time for the night, she tastes of what you imagine the rest of your life with her is going to look like.

Honey, pure sunlight, liquid fucking gold.

[starsandsugars]

Burning Desire

PAIRINGS: shiv roy/f!reader

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was ridiculous, and beyond irresponsible.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why don't you come show me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Be. Quiet."

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

"Shut up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[richeeduvie]

-- SHIV --

Onesided!SHIV ROY x READER

Dog and Bone!AU...think piece? A small-word count series of the Roy kids (and friends) and their relationships with you. Obsessive and unequal and the only thing you've ever known.

Yes I should be doing requests but it's 2am and I have an urge.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

Shiv does think about those moments where she was sixteen with you. All the time. It's fucking ridiculous. Yeah, she's not monogamous - but it's you she's thinking about, like she's not monogamous for the sake of you. Her distant friend who sleeps with her brother at her fucking waist. She needs to stop. She needs to drink more.

Fucking forget.

"Shiv?"

She remembers waking up, a hand groping your breast. Her cheeks didn't take long to burn, like someone just set a fire under her. You were giggling.

"What the fuck am I doing?"

"Have a dream about pitching for a baseball game?"

The worst thing was that she remembers exactly what she was dreaming about. It wasn't any different than what she was doing with your body. She pressed her thighs together.

"...Sorry. Fuck. That was weird, that's-"

"It's fine, Shiv. Come here."

Come up. She came up burning in the crook of your neck, hand flexing as she crossed her arm on your waist.

"I thought you were gonna rip my tit off."

She closed her eyes. She closes her eyes.

"...Shut up. You-"

"I'm joking."

She can't be fucking weird with you the way her brothers are. It's different if it's her. And it's not her. Lesbianism. Bisexuality. Whatever - if she's discreet about it, if it's like a third between her and Tom or her and someone else, then it's fine - but Roman touching you and always wanting you makes Shiv want to pull her fucking hair out because it's just gross. There's no other reason because there can't fucking be. She's trying to make them disappear down the glass of her wine.

But you shouldn't be taking up space in the pink of her brain.

"Roman's done worse, and with romantic intention. You're fine."

...It isn't fair.

It's not fucking fair that you don't think of her like this, that you don't feel wronged by your own fucking brain because your hands come to fists when you wake up. And it isn't fair that Roman gets to be gross, that you allow him. It's not fair.

Shiv crosses her legs and takes a harsh sip.

Why do you get to do this to her? And so distantly? But hey - a long and kind fucking hey, it took her twenty years or so to admit that it isn't fair, or that there's something to find unfairness in.

"Hey, Honey."

"...Hey."

Shiv greets Tom swiftly. She closes her eyes.

She felt a kiss to her hair.

"I've knew breast groping could feel so platonic. And soft. You should dream of baseball more often."

"You alright?"

Shiv blinks, head forward but eyes looking down.

"Mm. Headache."

"My poor thing. Well, I think you're in luck - wine's got to be the only alcohol that helps with a brain bug."

"...Maybe."

She doesn't catch Tom's smile when she closes her eyes again.

Shiv didn't think she'd ever fucking wish to be sixteen.

[springtyme]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 ♡

Sydney Adamu

Carmen Berzatto

Michael Berzatto

Richie Jerimovich

Marcus Brooks

Luca (the bear)

Gary "Sweeps" Woods

Kyle Garrick

Simon Riley

John MacTavish

Jonathan Price

Eddie Munson

Steve Harrington

Roman Roy

Shiv Roy

Kendall Roy

Tommy Shelby

Arthur Shelby

John Shelby

Alfie Solomons

Joel Miller (both hbo and game version)

Abby Anderson

Arthur Morgan

Sadie Adler

Spencer Reid

Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner

Derek Morgan

Emily Prentiss

Dana Scully

Fox Mulder

Dale Cooper

Wanda Maximoff

Natasha Romanoff

Yelena Belova

Matt Murdock

Sam Wilson

James "Bucky" Barnes

Miguel O'hara

Steven Grant, Marc Spector & Jake Lockley

[miistymemorii]

Between the Two of Us

pairing: shiv roy x fem!reader

rating: 18+ (MNDI!!!)

warnings: smut, slight angst, infidelity (sorry tommy boy)

A/N: based off a lovely little ask i received about a secret rendezvous with miss shiv. as always, thank you for reading, please enjoy

If there was one thing you hated most in the world, it was the company party shitshows you were forced to go to. You had been Roman Roy’s assistant for a little over a year, a total of 15 elitist parties you’ve attended by his side, every one of them more draining than the last. 

The parties were always the same. You and Roman entered together, Roman immediately gets a drink, then he follows you around as you force him to shmooze with the shitty elite partygoers. After the alcohol properly kicked in for Roman, he wandered off to bother Gerri or follow his dad around like a kicked puppy, which left you bored and, in the corner, nursing a drink until Roman came stumbling at your feet hours later, signaling the end of the night. 

There was something in the air, this night, and you felt a shift right as you entered the building.

Roman had mentioned that “the high cuntress” would be there tonight, and your eyes fell on Shiv from across the room almost immediately. She looked at Roman, her nose wrinkling a little, but when she saw you, a small smirk formed at the corners of her mouth. Your cheeks instantly felt hot, and you rushed over to the bar, deciding liquid courage was the way to go. 

There was one benefit to going to these parties, and that was the hour or so you and Shiv snuck off together. 

It was wrong and both of you knew it, but it had been innocent so far. The first time it had happened, you had just been hired by Roman, and you ran into Shiv in the bathroom. You had accidentally bumped into Logan, who had whispered some seething words to you, causing you to rush to the bathroom. You were overwhelmed, sure, but you refused to cry. You knew that the workplace was toxic when you went in, but you owed it to yourself to keep your head high. Still, you allowed yourself to mope a little, which Shiv had commented on when she walked in on you fixing your makeup.

The two of you got to talking and you ended up spending 45 minutes in the bathroom chatting before her assistant came looking for her. It happened again the second time, and at the third party, Shiv came up to you directly, saying she needed to talk to you about some business. The two of you ended up just wandering around outside the venue, sharing a cigarette and giggling over the stupidity of the entire event. It kept happening, and it was always nothing more than two women stealing away in the night, but the last time the two of you were together, something different had happened.

Shiv wasn’t a touchy person, but there had been the occasional brushing of hands, her hand on the small of your back as she guided you out of the party, but last time... last time she had kissed you.

Shiv had been ranting to you that night, going on and on about some fight her and Tom had before leaving for the party. You had been a good listener, and after she was done spouting out her problems, you had assured her that how she felt was valid, how she should get mad, how she did deserve better. It was a huge cliche, the way she had stared at you before kissing you softly on the lips. You had been the sensible one, pulling away first, but you had shamelessly let her linger. The two of you quietly agreed that it was a mistake, returning to the party through separate doors as to not raise suspicion, but your mind had only been on her since that night. You felt naughty, but there was a small part of you that really didn’t fucking care.

The night continued in as it usually did, and not even five minutes after Roman had left you at the bar, Shiv was sidling up next to you.

“Hey look, it’s my favorite lackey.” She teased. Her eyes were dark as she stared into your soul from over the rim of her glass.

You rolled your eyes, deciding it was best to keep some composure. “I’m not your lackey, technically, so I can’t be your favorite.”

“Pssht, someone is grumpy tonight. Tomato, tomato, anyways...” Her hand reached out and gently laid on top of yours, her fingers tracing invisible lines on your skin. You shivered, your body betraying you. “Anyways, wanna, you know...” she tilted her head towards the door.

You took a sip of your drink before saying as nonchalantly as you could, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Shiv froze, her jaw grinding as she stewed over your words. “I think that this party is sucking the life out of both of us and you’re just as eager as I am to get out of here. Am I wrong?” You sighed and shook your head, which made Shiv grin. “Perfect. There’s a stairwell to the rooftop, meet me up there in a few minutes.”

She left you no time to respond, sauntering off with her glass in her hand. You scanned the room and saw Tom doubled over in laughter with Greg, tucked away in a corner of the room. Tom’s hand brushed his neck and you almost gasped out loud when you saw his wedding ring wasn’t on his hand. Everyone knew Tom and Shiv were doomed, but the entire time you had known him, he always had his wedding band on. You downed the rest of your drink and headed towards the direction Shiv had left in. 

She was waiting you at the end of the hall, a bottle of wine in her hand. You raised an eyebrow at her, to which she explained that she had shmoozed it off the bartender. You trailed behind her as she quickly led you to the stairwell, the two of you walking up in silence before she held open a door, leading to the roof. The air was chilly and crisp but provided a refreshing reprieve from the stuffy room of partygoers. Shiv wasted no time in opening the bottle of wine, raising it to her lips and taking a hearty swig. She held it out for you, the tension hanging between the two of you increasing as she watched you take a drink from the bottle. 

“So... do you remember that time when I kissed you?”

You couldn’t help but choke on some of the wine, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand; your whole body felt like it was on fire. “Do I remember that? Vaguely, yeah.” You replied quietly, your tone a little harsh. 

Shiv hummed at your attitude, taking a step towards you. She crossed her arms, and you felt like you were about to be lectured. “Yeah, well, I’ve been thinking, and, well-” Shiv let out an annoyed sigh, “I’m sure you’ve seen, or heard, that Tom and I’s marriage is basically a joke at this point. I mean, there’s nothing there, I think, like really and purely nothing. So...” She reached over and took the bottle from your hands, “So I think that now is a good tie to talk about us.”

You tried to be as delicate as you could. “Shiv... there is no us.”

Shiv rolled her eyes. “I mean, the us that could be, like what if you and I had a little... something-something.”

You were at a loss for words. It was wrong, so very wrong, but God... Shiv was irresistible. The crush you had on her was too big to ignore... almost. “Shiv, c’mon, be reasonable. You’re asking me to help you cheat on Tom? That’s-”

“I’m not asking you to help me do anything. I’m just asking if you want to fuck me, and I’m guessing the answer is yes.”

“I mean...” You sighed, shaking your head. “Even if I did have feelings for you, Shiv, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Shiv had moved so close to you, she could’ve easily leaned in and kissed you. A dirty little part of you prayed that she would. “Oh, so you don’t have, like, any feelings for me, hmm? Because I...” Her voice lowered dangerously, “I know what kind of feelings I have for you.”

“You have feelings for me?”

Shiv snorted humorlessly. “Horny feelings, sure, but feelings all the same. Besides, Tom and I... we’ve got this... agreement. He’s allowed to fuck who he wants and I, well, I’m not going to let someone tell me who I can’t be with.” You felt dumb as you just stared at her, then Shiv said, “Jesus, are you going to make me beg? Because if you want me on my knees, all you have to do is ask.”

You ripped the bottle from her hands, taking one last drink. “This is so...fucked.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

You set the bottle down at your feet. Shiv was already taking off her jacket, tossing it on the ground. Her lips were immediately on yours, and you put up no resistance. Her hands were all over you, your hands finding their place tangled in her hair. She guided you to the floor, laying you on your back on top of her jacket. Shiv straddled you, her mouth dipping down to your neck, your moans thankfully lost amongst the natural bustling sound of the city. Your hands reached up to her breasts, but her hands gripped yours and shoved them back against the floor. Your clothes suddenly felt stifling, your legs parting the best they could to allow Shiv access to you. She ground down on your thigh, her breath heavy against your neck. Shiv climbed off you, her hands diving between your thighs and pushing the skirt of your dress up. You sat up on your elbows, the two of you staring each other down like hungry wolves as her fingers hooked under your waistband and pulled your panties off. She smirked, going painfully slow. 

You felt pathetic as you softly whined her name, but it didn’t matter because her fingers took their place at the apex of your thighs, circling your clit. You bit your lip and let your head fall back, but Shiv gave your clit a few harsh rubs, drawing your attention back to her. “Hey now, eyes on me.” She whispered, making you smile. She kept working at your clit, switching her paces to bring you closer to the edge just to draw your orgasm away again, but she leaned forward, stabilizing herself with her free hand so that she could kiss you. The kiss wasn’t as harsh or rushed as before, instead it was... normal. Light, the two pairs of lips working in perfect sync, your gasps of pleasure getting lost on her tongue. Her fingers left your clit and you whined, but she brought them up to your mouth, tracing your lips with them. You winked then poked your tongue out, just barely swirling them around her fingertips. 

Shiv let out a small chuckle, her fingers delving deeper into your mouth. You swirled them around against your tongue, and when Shiv felt they were wet enough, she took them out, examining them under the moonlight. She hummed in content, then hiked one of your legs up, her fingers gently prodding at your entrance. 

You felt like you were a beast on fire, your chest heaving, your heart hammering in your chest so loudly that you thought it would explode. Shiv was watching you as she teased you, her fingers not daring to enter you. You groaned and thrust your hips up towards her, to which she let out a low tsk. Her lips moved, she was muttering something to herself, but before you could ask her to speak up, her fingers were inside you. She started with two but went slow, easing into you. She watched you as she began to gain a steady rhythm, her fingers curling upwards in the most delicious way. You were moaning her name over and over like a mantra, your body grinding down on her fingers as you felt the tension in your stomach coming to its end. 

Shiv pinched your thigh with her free hand, bringing your attention back to her. She was smiling, but she rolled her eyes playfully. “C’mon space cadet, did you even hear me?” You shook your head, way too drunk on the feeling of her. “Of course not; that’s cute. I told you to pull the top of that dress down.”

“I don’t know if that’s something I can do-”

“Well try or I’m fucking ripping it, and wouldn’t that be so embarrassing?” You couldn’t help but clench down around her, which made her chuckle. “Oh, I get it, you’re dirty. You want people to know, is that it?”

Your hands were scrambling to adjust the top half of your dress, and you eventually got the sleeves and chest down. Shiv kissed you sweetly on the lips, such a contrast to the harsh movements of her fingers, but you loved it. Her lips spent very little time against yours, instead moving down to your breasts, taking one of your nipples into her mouth. The two of you moved against each other like wild animals, her mouth suckling and biting at your breasts, your legs beginning to shake as you felt yourself completely drowning in her. It was overwhelming, but you could’ve gone for hours if the two of you had time. It felt like the world had felt away when your orgasm finally came, time and space irrelevant. Her teeth sunk into your skin just enough for the pain to mix in with the pleasure, your legs shaking at the sensation. 

Your mind was foggy, but Shiv brought you back to reality when she gently took her fingers out of you. She was staring down between your legs, her mouth open slightly in shock. You weakly raised your head to see what she was staring at, and you whimpered at the sight. Her pantleg had a small, but unmissable, wet spot on it, and you became suddenly aware of how wet you were in between your legs. 

“Shit, Shiv, I’m so sorry-”

She was laughing. Like, genuinely laughing. You felt embarrassed, but when you saw she wasn’t trying to be cruel, you felt a little better. She gave you a mocking pout, then said, “No, no, it’s hot. Should I go out there and tell them it’s all you or-”

“No!” Shiv raised an eyebrow at you, so you quickly added, “Just... say I spilled some wine on you, or something.”

Shiv took your panties and put them in her back pocket before leaning over you, her nose against yours. “I see. This will be our little secret, then?”

“Is that a problem?” You whispered.

Her nose nuzzled against yours, and she hummed like she was thinking. “No, it’s not. It’s hot, fun, I think.”

The two of you adjusted yourself, goosebumps blossoming across your skin as she gingerly helped you fix your dress, pressing a gentle skin to your cheek. It was a small gesture, but Shiv hesitated a moment, and you knew it was unfamiliar territory for her. Being tender, being genuine, feeling something that was caring and real. 

The two of you left the roof, making your way back to the party. Shiv looked the same as she did before, but you knew how wrecked you must’ve looked. She led you to the bathroom, giving you a small discreet nod goodbye. 

Thankfully, the bathroom was empty, so you spent a good minute doing some literal and figurative reflecting. You skin was flushed from sex, dark hickies starting to bloom across your skin. Your legs still felt weak, the feeling of emptiness making you ache for Shiv. You looked as fucked out as you felt, but you knew there was no amount of concealer and powder that could hide it. You had no choice but to return to the party with your head up high, praying no-one would notice. 

You slipped back into the party, giving the crowd a quick scan, but Shiv was nowhere to be seen. There was a hand clasping on your shoulder, making you jump a little.

Roman poked at your side, giggling. You could smell the booze reeking off him and you rolled your eyes. “C’mon Rome, it’s past your bedtime.”

He groaned loudly, rolling his eyes. “God, it’s past your bedtime!”

You shook your head with a chuckle, taking his arm in yours and steering him towards the door. Roman looked you up and down then gasped dramatically, “Good God, you got railed at a company party?”

“Shut up, Roman.” You seethed quietly.

He laughed loudly but lowered his voice. “You are so going to spill the beans when we get in the car, you dirty little corporate lackey.”

You smiled to yourself, shaking your head. “Sorry Rome, I don’t kiss and tell.”

[happy74827]

Just Words

[Siobhan Roy x GN!Reader]

Synopsis: Words can be hurtful (especially to most) but with Siobhan’s “5-star” personality and ability to not care about anything other than herself, you can’t help BUT spill some words. {GIF Creds: @olliviacooke// I took this off of google (fair warning) so I had to dig deep to find the OP}

WC: 2274

Category: Slight Fluff (?), Enemies to… trope {Trigger Warning: Foul Language (I really channeled the Roy family here), Logan}

I did not expect my first succession fic to be Siobhan… but honestly, I’m not complaining 👀 (fyi: this was a request and I stupidly forgot to “answer” so hopefully the anon who requested lovely Shiv finds this 💀)

『••✎••』

Siobhan Roy… mega bitch. You hated her. Well, that might be an understatement; you despised her. From the moment you met her, she was just a total and complete pain in your ass. Not to mention completely and utterly self-absorbed. She had the attitude and ego of a child.

So when you were made to work with her, you were less than pleased. Logan Roy, the only man who could top Siobhan in terms of being an insufferable asshole, had made you a deal. If you and Siobhan worked together to find a solution to the media shitstorm he was currently experiencing, he would put you on the team that handled the IPO of Waystar. It was the opportunity you had been waiting for, so you sucked it up and agreed.

You and Siobhan sat in the meeting, both of you looking like a pair of miserable children. It made Roman look like a ray of sunshine, and that was really saying something.

Logan slammed the door, causing you to flinch.

"Fuck," he said, taking his seat.

"What?" asked Siobhan, a tinge of irritation in her voice. It’s amazing how her mood could shift on a dime.

"Nothing. I'm just a bit tired of this fucking circus."

"Well, what the fuck do you expect? You made a public promise. If you can't make good on it, why not just say so? Why continue this fucking farce?"

Logan narrowed his eyes at her.

"If I wanted to hear that, Siobhan, I would have gone to my wife's bed. I don't need a cunt in my ear right now."

Siobhan rolled her eyes. "Jesus fucking Christ. I'm a realist. You're the one who wants to live in your fantasy world. Just fucking drop the bomb, tell the truth, and let's move on."

"The truth? And what is the truth? That my son’s a psychotic, drug-addled mess? That Kendall is a sniveling, entitled little fuck? A pathetic, whiny, little shit stain who can't do his job because he's too busy jerking himself off to his own sob story? Is that the truth you want to set free?"

Siobhan stared him down, and once again, you were surprised. You had thought the woman was completely brazen, but there were still limits.

"I'm not your therapist," she said.

"No. You're not. And I'm not going to sit here and listen to a woman with the emotional range of a fucking teaspoon telling me how to handle this situation. Now, I need to get on the phone with my PR team. Fuck off, all of you. Get back to work."

You and Roman both jumped up, quickly leaving the room. Once you were safely away from Logan, you took a deep breath and relaxed a bit.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you muttered, "I don't know how she does it."

Roman smirked, "Oh, she's a special snowflake—a real ball buster. You should see her with Tom. It's a fucking bloodbath."

“Tell me about it. It’s a raging dumpster fire, even saying more than two words to her. I feel like she's going to snap my head off any minute. I’m so tired of her bullshit, and she's the least of my worries. The whole family is a fucking disaster. And I don't have time for any of it…. No offense.”

Roman gave you a half smile. "None taken. You're right; I'm the best of a very bad lot."

"Well, at least you're self-aware."

“You fuckers talking shit about me behind my back?"

You turned and saw Shiv leaning against the wall.

"Always," replied Roman. "And it's fucking hilarious."

"Well, don't let me stop you," she said, rolling her eyes. Her eyes then shifted to you.

"I didn't realize we were having a fucking slumber party."

"Just having a bit of a break," you said.

"Oh, well, that's very fucking nice. I'm glad everyone is taking a fucking break because I've been dealing with our father, who is a raging psycho at the moment. You know, while the rest of you are fucking around, the company is dying. It's falling apart, and everyone is too fucking busy to give a shit."

"Come on, Shivvy. Take a breather. You’re starting to act like Kendall… and that's never a good look," said Roman.

"Fuck off, Ro.”

Shiv glared at him, then glanced back at you. The glare made you want to hide, but you refused to show fear in front of her. You had done it in the past, and it only fed her.

"Well," she said, "aren't you going to say anything? Or are you just going to stand there with your mouth open like an idiot?"

"I think I'll take option B. I'd like to live through this," you replied.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"I think it's pretty clear."

"Yeah, I suppose it is. I guess I shouldn't expect someone like you to understand."

"Someone like me?"

“Shiv,” warned Roman, trying to interject. Personally, despite his whacked-out sense of humor, you actually enjoyed his company. He was definitely the least obnoxious of the Roy siblings. “Let’s not get into this now, okay? Just drop it."

"No. No, go ahead, Shiv. Let's have it out. Right here, right now. Let's see if you can handle it."

Shiv stared at you for a few moments, then she smiled. It wasn’t her usual smug, condescending grin. It was different, almost sincere.

"You think you're tough?" she asked.

"No. I know I am. It's a little different, don't you think?"

"Okay," she replied, her eyes darkening. She leaned forward, her face just inches from yours. Roman just looked at the two of you as if watching a tennis match. "You're so sure you can handle me. So why don't you prove it?"

"Prove it? Like, what, punch you in the face? Is that what you want?"

"Although, as satisfying as that sounds, I was thinking we all should just move on… maybe have a drink, talk it over? Yeah? No?”

Shiv just looked at you. "Yeah, I'll pass. I'm not here to make friends, and I'm certainly not here to kiss your ass."

"That's good. Because, honestly, I don't see you as the ass-kissing type. Tom, yes. You? Not a chance. You're the type who wants everything to be handed to you on a silver platter. I'm sorry, but I'm not the maid. I'm not going to serve you or kiss your ass. I'm here because I have a job to do, and I intend to do it. That's it.”

"Oh, right. I see. Well, then, why don't we cut the bullshit and just get right to it. How about you go back to whatever shithole you crawled out of and let the real people get on with things."

“Guys-” Roman started.

"Real people? Real people? You think you're real? You think this is real? I hate to break it to you, Siobhan, but you're not a princess, and this isn't a fairy tale. You're not the queen. Your father isn't the king. You're a spoiled brat, and he's… well, he’s Logan. He's not even a king. He's just a bully."

"Is that supposed to hurt me? To insult me?"

"No, but you seem like the kind of person who doesn't take criticism well. You’re doing a terrible job.”

Shiv stared at you, her lip curled up in disgust. She looked as if she were about to hit you, but the rage was just a facade.

"Well," she finally said, "It's a good thing we're not here to play fucking games, then. So why don't you shut the fuck up and get back to work? Unless, of course, you don't think you can handle it. Maybe you should just go back to where you came from, and let the real people get on with things."

Your nostrils flared. It took every ounce of strength in you not to smack the look off her face. But you knew better. If you started a fight, Logan would take your head off, and that was a fight you couldn't win. So, instead, you smiled.

"Fine," you said. "If that's what you want. I'll do my job, and you do yours. But, just remember, the day is coming when this little charade is going to come to an end, and when it does, it's going to be a lot worse than it is right now."

You didn't wait for her reply. Instead, you turned and walked away, leaving the two of them standing in the hallway.

Once you were back in the safety of your office, you collapsed into your chair and let out a sigh. You had just gotten your first taste of a Roy fight, and it was worse than you had anticipated. The worst part was Siobhan had gotten the last word. It didn't matter that you might’ve won. She had gotten the last good word, and you hated her for it.

As the hours ticked by, you became more and more frustrated. You were angry and bitter. You were pissed at yourself for letting Shiv get under your skin, and you were angry at her for getting to you.

So, when your phone rang and you saw her name, you were tempted to ignore it. You let it ring for a few seconds, then decided to answer.

"Yes?” Your attitude was short.

"Get your shit together," she snapped. “We have a meeting in five minutes. We have a lot of ground to cover."

That was, in fact, false. By the time you arrived, the conference room was deserted, and only Shiv remained. She was sitting at the table, her laptop open in front of her.

"What the hell?" you demanded.

"I'm sorry. Did you want a fucking audience? Because that can be arranged. But, if you don't mind, I would prefer not to have any interruptions."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that we are both here, and we have a job to do. Now, either sit down and help me, or fuck off. I really don't give a shit."

You stared at her, and she looked up from her laptop, raising an eyebrow. There was no audience, and there wasn’t going to be one. So, you had two options. Either walk away and look like an idiot, or stay and possibly get chewed out again. You took a deep breath and sat down.

Shiv just hummed in response, then looked back at her screen. "Good choice."

For the next couple of hours, the two of you worked together, trying to figure out a way to turn the situation around. Arguments arose, shots were fired, and at one point, Shiv threatened to kick you out, but overall, it was a productive session. Logan wouldn’t be pissed, so that was a win.

"So," Shiv said as the two of you left the building, "Did you cool down?"

"What?"

"I'm asking if you cooled down. Do you feel better now?"

"Um, yeah, sure. Why wouldn't I? You know, besides the fact that we were at each other's throats for hours and the fact that we both wanted to kill each other. I'm peachy."

"Mm, peachy." She said the word like it was an insult. "That's a strange choice of words, don't you think?”

“What? The real people don’t use the word peachy, huh? Is it beneath you, Shiv? Do you only use fancy words and proper grammar?"

"Oh, I can be a real commoner when the situation calls for it. It's all about knowing your audience."

"Really? So, is this the commoner Shiv? Should I expect a new side of you?"

"Maybe.” She smiled oddly again. The one that made you nervous. "Maybe not. That depends on you. Do you want to know the real me?"

"No, not particularly."

"Good. Because I'm not interested in showing you. I’m just curious if you have what it takes."

"To what, put up with your bullshit? To put up with a spoiled brat who thinks the world is hers for the taking? Mmm, yeah, I think I've got what it takes."

"Okay, first off, fuck you. Second, you're a piece of shit. Third, I have something to tell you. So, listen up. This is important. Okay, ready?"

You were about to say something, but her expression stopped you. Her voice was low, her tone serious. You nodded.

"I'm a bitch. And, yeah, I have a temper, and I'm not a warm and fuzzy kind of girl. But, that's the thing, I don't need to be. I don't need to pretend that I'm anything other than who I am. I don't have to fake it because I know what I want, and I'm not afraid to go after it. That’s what you need to understand. It's not about what you think you need. It's about what you want and what you're willing to do to get it."

You just stared at her, unsure of what to say.

"So, let me ask you, what do you want? And are you willing to do what it takes to get it?"

You thought about it for a second. "I want a drink. A strong one."

A little comedy never hurt anyone. And judging by her expression, you could tell you had made her smile.

"Well, that's a start." Siobhan had a smirk on her face. "Alright, fine. Let's get that drink. Then we'll see how far that gets you."

"Yeah," you muttered, "I'm sure."

But, as you walked down the street, you couldn't help but think about the question. What did you want?

And what was Siobhan offering?

[vclvetfleur]

Obedient Chapter 20

Roman Roy x fem! reader

Summary: After the embarrassing live interview, you were sent to Logan's office. Shiv feels sorry for you and decides to invite you and Roman to dinner with her and Tom.

TW: implied child abuse, Logan Roy, sexism

WC: 6.9K

Notes: I've been super busy, but I finally updated. And this is the longest chapter I've ever written :))

Chapter 20: Casey Anthony

Roman entered his father’s office, unsure if Logan was going to start berating him, but he wouldn’t be past Logan to do so. He carefully opened the door before sliding his body inside. “Uh-hey Dad, you needed me?” He spoke softly and carefully. He wasn’t allowed to look away from Logan when greeting him. He learned that the hard way when younger. Romans' hands fidgeted before leaning up against one of Logan’s suede chairs.

“Yes. Did you know about this shit?” Logan asked, passing Roman the phone. Logan slid it across his desk, making Roman leave his safe distance from Logan to get closer to evaluate the screen. But he knew what it would be but played it dumb. “Uh- what was I supposed to know?” Roman genuinely wondered. It could’ve been a number of things. Did he know about the article? Did he know your history with them? Did he know you were so fucked up? “Did you know she’s fucked in the head, son?” Logan carefully said, making you and Roman feel small. Roman shook his head no, knowing he should defend you, but was too scared to do so.

“Uh- no Dad… I mean she seemed more normal than all of us… Come on, you’ve met her.” He tried every bit that he could defend in a sly way by making Logan think he actually wasn’t.

“Yes, I did. She’s definitely smart. But I never met her. I don’t know anything about her. And clearly, you don’t either.” Logan tried to sting Roman. Logan wasn’t as annoyed as earlier, knowing this would be dealt with. It was even his idea to send you off to a TV interview after Hugo suggested you do another interview.

Logan knew how smart you were. You were able to talk your way into a lot from what Logan could see. He would eventually use it for his own gain. He knew you were a game piece he could now move around for his own gain and wins. You were definitely smarter than most of his kids, possibly just as smart as Shiv. But you were still a woman. But you had the wittiness Roman had without being disgusting, Shiv’s ideals, and Kendall’s ‘touch with the youth’. You could be useful for women, younger CEOs, and even liberal older individuals. But he knew some would never take you seriously. Until you talked maybe.

“Well- I have another thing. GoJo… What do we think?” He passed it by Roman. As it seemed, Kendall was out so Roman was the best possible option once Gerri was out of office. Shiv could be good, but once again, she was a woman. She was in her feelings way too often, at least Logan assumed so.

“What do I think? Uhm- yea… What do you think?” Roman asked. He wasn’t going to pass a deal his father didn’t approve of.

“I didn’t ask you what I thought. I thought what you thought.” Logan grew annoyed with Roman’s answer. This was Logan’s issue with Roman. He had no opinions. If Logan thought something, Roman followed. He didn’t know how to be his own person. That was why Kendall was always set for greatness. He always knew his stance. Never followed Logan 100%. He said and did as he thought unless beaten into submission. Kendall was tough, but malleable like clay.

“Okay uhm-…” Roman took a minute to think. “Yeah no, GoJo is a great deal. I mean if we took over internet and tech it’d be great. Get rid of the old shit and into the new. I mean no one watches stuff on TV anymore unless it’s streamed and-… uh yeah. No, it’s good.” Roman came to the conclusion. It was only logical for them to go for modernism. They were being outgrown. Newspapers were dying out. Tv was dying out. It’s all about Netflix and websites and whatever all the bullshit was.

“Okay- well… I just needed some insight…” Logan spoke slowly. The news was playing, but it strangely wasn’t ATN. Logan was anticipating your response. He needed to see if this would be a win or an absolute disaster. Before he knew it, the segment started. He leaned in, watching as Jess came up. “Who the fuck is that? I thought you were with the uh- fuck…” Logan forgot how to describe you exactly. He forgot your hair color. He just passed it off.

“Uhm. No Dad, that’s Kendall’s assistant…” Roman reminded as he stared at the television with a growing amount of anxiety. He never meant for this to go this far.

“Oh, uh… yeah…” Logan let out an old man grumble as his words seemed to slide into one another. Logan smiled to himself, knowing this would seemingly get to Kendall. He knew Kendall would have a field day knowing his assistant was backing up the woman he put up false accusations against.

Next, you came through. Roman leaned forward to watch. He watched your face, feeling as though he could be there for you to console you. “Oh please, she’s just a girl, son. Are you that fucking pussy whipped already?” Logan found a reason to pick at him. Roman ignored. It wasn’t worth arguing. Logan never loved anything. Except for dead people who no longer receive his love.

It tore Roman to watch you break down before finally saying what he hadn’t even known. It sent discomfort throughout the room. Everyone who watched themselves felt a sense of heartbreak for you as you recalled everything that had happened. Hugo and Carolina sat in their own office, watching and shifting at the amount of uncomfortable information. It sunk into everyone. This was too serious to be brought up on television. It affected Roman the most. Knowing what he had said and how he mocked your relationship with them the other day set in. He never knew something this horrific could have happened. And to know this was only the stories you were willing to say out loud. You probably had more things hidden under the surface.

“You picked perfectly Roman.” Logan knew what this could mean. It would only mean a gain. Having a victim speak out against other victims or to them now knowing the horrendous things you’ve been put through. It could make you likable. People would listen to you. He knew it and would definitely keep it in the back of his mind. Logan huffed, watching the parents. He worried it’d ruin their reputation. Not what it would do for you. “What the fuck are they doing here? Did they fucking set her up?” Roman asked out loud, putting his hand up to show the screen, and looking over his shoulder at Logan. Logan just watched. “Those fuckers set us up.” Logan grumbled. He knew this was not just an attack on you but on Logan and the company. He wanted to see how this would pan out. And it panned out exactly how Logan wished it would. Roman rubbed his forehead in discomfort watching you scream and insinuate multiple allegations.

But the fact the news network put up people defending a pedophile and their own abuse of a woman who had been working for a company with their own allegations would only sway positively for Waystar. They would think Waystar was a company that would hire a victim. Someone at the company knew pain. She was just like everyone else.

“Roman, when she comes here, let her in.” Logan commanded. Roman wasn’t sure what his father was feeling, but he couldn’t protect you from it. He had to just have this play out the way he has been. It was going to be a never-ending snowball for you. Roman could only nod and wait with his father as they discussed further plans for GoJo and what Roman’s next plans would be. Roman was given the honor of having to handle the case with his father controlling him like a ventriloquist. But for Roman, it was ideal.

You got into the car, laying on Jess’ lap as you sobbed. Gerri was sent a text from Logan to bring you to see him. Gerri couldn’t break this news to you while you were inconsolable. You shook as you buried your head into Jess’ lap. It was like you were a child with your parents. Your inner child was finally allowed to be healed in a slight way. You wept loudly as you couldn’t process them even trying to speak to you. You were fine while leaving, but once the reality of you not even hearing their voice until now hurt. The fact you had forgotten their face killed you. It was like revisiting a dead relative’s grave.

Jess shushed you as she directed you to breath. You. Had to pull yourself together. You sat up, holding yourself, trying to get yourself to stop crying. You looked at Gerri. Her comfort brought you into a calmer state. “You’re okay. You’re safe…” Jess tried to remind you. Before getting to the office, you rid your tears away and did your breathing exercises. You had to put on sunglasses, knowing photographs of you crying would be out. Jess was dropped off before hand and you were pushed through the crowd by security. “Fucking animals.” You mumbled as you were finally able to go into the elevator.

“Okay… y/n, before we go in. Logan had told me he would like to see you.” Gerri finally told you. You understood. You knew this would be a possibility. You sighed, laying your head against the metal walls. You got it together before agreeing to do so as if you had an option to even decline.

The door opened, seeing Roman spot you. He shifted before making his way to you.  “Hey-uh-hi, you doing okay?” He stuttered, checking you as if he would find something physical to show himself that you were doing all right or bad. “Uh- yea… I think your dad wanted to see me…” You mumbled. He already knew. He escorted you, trying to see if you were even mentally okay. He knew this would’ve never happened unless you both got involved. And he felt guilty. He felt responsible. Watching you have to relive everything was horrific to watch. He was never even able to talk that freely, even around his therapist even though there were multiple contracts and signed documents that promised secrecy. He couldn’t put himself in that head space.

You entered Logan's office and were greeted by Logan. He played a concerned face, looking up at you. “Hi dear, take a seat. You must be stressed.” He tried to play nice. Even it worried Roman. He looked in between the two of you, with his eyebrows raised. You cautiously took a seat, folding your legs across the other. “How are you? We watched what went down. Must’ve been terrible.” Logan checked in. You looked at Roman before looking at Logan. You decided on honesty. “Well- uh I cried a lot. But I’m glad I said what I said.” You breathed out.

“I bet… uh- well… now- now don’t take this so harshly, but I do think it was a good thing they brought them out there. It proves what we are. Doesn’t it? You’re a smart woman.” Logan put an emphasis on your gender. “You knew these news people don’t give a fuck. They’re savages.” Logan tried to bring your guard down, but it didn’t work. You were worried this would end in you being called a moron or being fired. “Listen- seriously. This is coming from me of all people. This was good. It felt good, didn’t it?” He asked you.

You sat with your thoughts before nodding. “Yeah- it kind of did.” You agreed. “I mean- I thought if I ever saw them, I’d run away and cry, I mean I did yesterday… but it felt good to say it out loud. To finally discredit them in public.” This was what Logan wanted. You finally spoke. You let your guard down. You had no defense up. He could screw with your mind.

“It must’ve been. I mean to deal with…” He let out an exaggerated breath of air, shaking his head. “I mean to deal with that, y’know… How long have they been discrediting you?” He needed to know to shut those claims down for as much money as it took. He was going to make you and Shiv the face for their defense against the Cruises. Who better than 2 women, one being a now public assault victim herself?

“As long as I can remember. I mean they used to tell their friends what a bad kid I was. But honestly, I think after I left they even bashed me on social media a bit. It was just to make me…” You started before Logan cut you off.

“To make you feel guilty. Yeah- who was Liam?” Logan wondered. Roman tried to butt in. “Dad- come on…” he tried to stop the questioning, but Logan put his hand up to stop Roman. “I’m just asking. Come on. It’s therapeutic. Isn’t it?” Logan asked you. You felt too intimidated. But all your business was out at this point. This could’ve been out already.

“Uh- Liam was my dad’s brother. Uh- yea. He wasn’t the only one though. Just kind of- y’know…” You shifted. You covered your face with your hair as you pretended to itch to avoid the intense eye contact from Logan.

“I see… Well- what if I did this for you?” Logan proposed. “We take those bastards down… your parents, Liam, and whoever else.” Your eyes light up. You looked at Logan, shocked, but hungry to not only publicly shame them, but completely ruin them. “I can set you up with the best lawyers… the best whatever. And slip something. Make sure, this kind of stuff can’t happen.” Logan continued. You didn’t need to hear the rest. You wanted in.

“Yes- I’d love that. I don’t even care what else you need. I’ll do it.” You jumped at the opportunity. Not only would it prove whoever didn’t think you were wrong, but it would be such a release to you. “Slow down… I just need you to go up there with Shiv from time to time. That’s all I ask.” Logan continued. This would be pocket change to him. But if it influenced you enough and to gain back such sympathy for the company, he would do it. He didn’t care. He just wanted another win to take home.

You got up and agreed. “Logan, you have no idea what this means. Thank you.” You felt so released from all this excoriating journey. But it would be over. The trail would be fast. You had witnesses, you had documents, and you had photos taken by CPS. You had enough evidence.

“Don’t- please.” Logan tried to be humble. “Just take the time. I’ll do what I need to, and you do what you need to. But while you’re here. What do you think of GoJo?” He wanted you to feel a part of it. But he already had his mind made. He was just hoping you’d agree to further his narrative. You stood shocked, looking at Roman, but he still looked nervous for you.

“Uh- I think it’s great… The network needs to modernize and uh- GoJo needs a lot of tweaking. But it’s good.” You quickly put in your input. Logan nodded, looking off as he thought.

“Alright… uh- well. You both could uh- just. Roman do what you need.” He ignored you. You just left with Roman. You were ecstatic. “Did you fucking hear that?” You giggled, nearly jumping as you stood. Roman knew this was off. His dad never cared about this sort of stuff. He never even acknowledged Roman’s abuse. But Roman remembered his gender, Roman’s assault didn’t matter to his father because ‘boys don’t do that’. But he was at least glad you weren’t sobbing. You were smiling.

“Uh- yea… Wow…” He tried to make it sound as big as it did to you. But a lawsuit against average people was something that lasted such a short time with the lawyers they had. It meant nothing. “Hey, but you sure you’re okay? I mean- that was-uh-that was just fucking-…” Roman tried not to offend you.

You nodded with the biggest smile plastered on your face. “Rome- this is the best thing that could’ve happened. This was a fucking gift sent from God him fucking self… I mean fuck! I don’t even believe in the fucker but wow!” You couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous you sounded. “Yeah- cause he’s probably not fucking real.” Roman tried to quickly butt in. “But you know- just… I don’t know.” He dismissed his worries. They were dumb. He should be happy for you. I mean, you were getting something you could only fantasize about. But Roman knew it would come at such a cost. “Look- I love you, okay? Just- fucking- I don’t know. You gotta maybe put yourself first.” Roman tried to express.

“Roman- you have no idea… how long I have been waiting for this. I mean sure Angela and Mick don’t deserve any kind of attention. But this is good. I promise.” You held his hands before pressing a kiss over his rose-tinted lips.

“Alright- I’m just fucking worried- cause y’know… I care and shit.” He almost gagged at the thought of him being this desperately in love. He never saw it ever coming for him. He thought he’d even be single for most of his life or hopping from the next person to the next because they didn’t get him fully.

“Aww- Roman has a cruuuush.” You teased him.

He had a mocking face at you, rolling his eyes. “Fuck off.”

“No- come on- say it.” You continued to test him further and further, but he had walked away from you. He had a meeting to go to. But you didn’t mind. You were just so overfilled with joy. You headed to the break room, finally able to get a sense of peace. Greg hadn’t been in the office to annoy you any longer. He was too busy mooching off of Kendall. But fortunately, Shiv had made her way in to get some kind of weirdly expensive water bottle.

“Oh- uh hey.” Shiv was nervous to confront you. It set in that now everyone saw your victim status. You were fragile. It made you feel weaker for it. “You alright? I mean- I saw what went on. But you okay?” She wondered, taking a seat across from you.

You nodded. “I’m fine.” You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling though. Finally. No more worrying. Just peace. “It was shocking at first, but just- Shiv… it was the most freeing thing ever.” You expressed. She looked at you strangely with a smile on her face.

“Wow- well I’m glad you were okay… uh- did you and Roman want to come over tonight… me and Tom wanted to maybe make you feel more welcomed.” She offered. You felt a warmness fill you, pouting at how sweet of a gesture it was.

“Uh- yea… Thanks, Shiv…” You felt at home. You were a part of yet another family. Granted a very toxic and problematic one, but you had another family. You had lost your little sister to your parents, but you had Jess and Shiv. Shiv never purposely hurt you. Just Kendall. Speaking of Kendall, you wondered how he was reacting to the mess he created.

“Yeah- sure, it’s nothing. Just y’know- I just thought since you and Roman were… yeah…” She sounded disgusted by the thought of her brother in a relationship. “Just thought it’d be a nice thing. Just come by at 8.” She squeezed your hand gently before leaving you alone. You weren’t alone for long before meeting with Roman again.

“Your sister invited us to dinner.” You expressed to him. You were just happy to be involved.

“Oh, fucking great. Now we need to play fucking house.” He groaned at the idea. He didn’t mind being ‘normal’ with you. But he was still upset about the other night. His distain for Shiv came in and out depending on where their hatred lied. But for you, he’d do it.

“It was sweet!” You tried to defend Shiv and this dinner was. But nothing about his family was ever done in the goodness of their heart. He knew it. He did it too. He knew never to trust. Everything was a game. If you didn’t see it as that, you’d lose. Everything was a race. The slowest one was left behind, desperate to keep up. But he was used to it. He never lived a second without being in it.

“Shiv? Come on- she’s literally a fucking uh a fucking killer girl scout. She’s that one girl people always says killed her kid. Fucking-…” He tried to remember her name as you just watched him desperately try to think of insults to throw at Shiv behind her back. “Casey Anthony.” You reminded him.

“Yup. That whore. That’s Shiv.” He made the connection finally.

“You’re being dramatic.” You pushed his concerns away. He was dramatic. It was going to be a harmless dinner. It would’ve been nice anyway. He mimicked your voice, passing your judgment as nothing. He was gonna go anyway. He had to. “Roman, are you going to make me go alone or not?” You crossed your arms.

“Yeah- fucking whatever. We’ll play house.” Roman gave in. You smiled, pressing a kiss over his lips before pulling him off to continue the workday before having to split off at the end of the day. It was nice being able to finally be able to show some kind of affection at work. Or the very least in public. You didn’t need to hide away and sneak around. People were even shocked for Roman. Not that he actually had a partner, but that he was even able to show some kind of affection towards anyone. All of his other partners have had an issue with physical touch. But with you, it was easier. You both read each other's body language well enough.

You entered your apartment, realizing how much you’ve rarely ever been in this space. Most nights you were out on trips or with Roman. And for a brief period, you were with Jess. You hopped into the fairly reminiscent shower. You turned the metal knobs and let the shower head pour out hot water. You forgot how weak the shower head was compared to the nice resorts and hotels you’ve been placed in. You poured your shampoo into your head and scrubbed it into your scalp. You sat there and let the water clear all the soapy bubbles before gliding conditioner through your hair. You spent a while in the shower as your phone blasted music through its speakers. You sang to the lyrics with the passion of a singer on a world tour. You screamed the lyrics, dancing as if you were invoking an emotion in the audience that never existed. “I was enchanted to meet yoooooooou!” You screamed into the wall. Before going into the second verse. You scrubbed your body, holding the loofa as if it were the end of a mic as soon as your favorite lyrics and vibrato of the song came on.

Your phone abruptly died in the middle of another song, cutting your shower short. You wrapped your body in a towel before going to your bedroom/living room. You plugged your phone into the charger before drying yourself off. You put on your makeup shirt, which was an old t-shirt stained with makeup. You sat down in front of your mirror and did your makeup in front of it. You did makeup better without music anyway. It distracted you far too much anyway. You usually put on funny podcasts or YouTube or something dark like true crime to stay focused on your makeup, but you wait for your phone to charge. Along with it being too far and you being too lazy to actually get up and put something on.

You finished up fairly quickly before starting on your hair, styling it simply. You didn’t want to make this as fancy as it was going to be. It was a simple dinner. But Shiv always dressed up in a formal way. You couldn’t imagine her in a regular shirt. Or Tom. You’ve never seen them in regular clothes. She had more reasons to try to remain a ‘professional’ look. If she didn’t she would be seen as less serious as people already took her.  

You finished up before struggling to find something to wear. You just settled on some dress pants and a shirt that you hadn’t worn in months since you’d gotten hired. You had been neglecting your regular clothes as well. You checked the time, realizing how much time you spent before grabbing your bag. You shoved the essentials into it before leaving the house. You ran down to the subway station. You hadn’t been on the train in a while either. It felt strange. You definitely were getting a few stares. You just lowered your head, covering your face with your hair, hoping no confrontation would occur. But 6 minutes into your ride you heard an iPhone camera shutter go off. You looked up and saw a man put his phone down, looking around as if he wasn’t in front of you.

“Sir- can you please just delete that?” You asked politely. He acted oblivious, pointing at himself. “Yes sir, I heard that. Please can you just delete that?” “It’s my freedom.” He said with a snobby attitude. He was clearly some business major douchebag. “Yea- and it’s my freedom to not have men take pictures of me.” You reminded him.

“Is there an issue? Hey man, delete that shit.” Another man who had been standing the entire ride intervened. The man declined before the other guy pressed him enough. “Stupid bratty whore.” He mumbled as he went through the phone to delete the picture as the other guy watched him.

“Woah! What the fuck man?” You rolled your eyes. “Have some fucking respect for the lady.” The other man called him out. You just stood up and went in between the carts to switch carts. You felt uncomfortable being in a space you use to be on daily for 22 whole years.

Thankfully you had just gotten off at the stop you needed to. You left the station, looking down at your phone for the address before making your way over to Shiv and Tom’s apartment. You texted Shiv to let her know you were a block away. You were escorted inside and sent up to their floor. You were greeted by Shiv who was wearing a white pant suit with a black turtleneck. “Hi!” She smiled, bringing you into a hug. “I’m so glad you actually made it. Uh- where’s Rome?” She wondered.

“Oh, I came by myself. He said he’s coming.” You calmed her nerves. She nodded but you pulled your phone out to make sure Roman was actually coming. He texted back to let you know he was in a car downtown at this moment. Shiv just went in on what she had her chefs make you all, but it wouldn’t be done anytime soon.

“Oh my god! I didn’t know you guys had a dog!” You squealed, seeing a large black dog lying down on the ground with a stuffed bear under his head. You walked over, kneeling down. The dog raised his head up, staring up at you with his large brown eyes. “Hi baby…” You said in a soft baby voice as you ran your fingers through its fur and scratched his ears for him. He leaned his heavy head into your small hands as you contagiously giggled.

“Oh-uh yeah. That’s Mondale. He’s mostly Toms.” Shiv tried to interject, but you were fascinated by the large baby in front of you. You always wanted a dog, but in New York, it was hard to have one. Plus, your parents never let you have one. If they did, you wouldn’t trust them around an animal anyway. But eventually, you knew you’d own a variety of pets. The ideas of animals were endless. A dog, chihuahua, Maltese, those cute pug chihuahua mixes, a cat, probably an orange one, a fennec fox, a raccoon, etc. You weren’t the type to think owning such weird animals was okay, but oh my god, they were just too cute to not want one. Realistically you knew the cat and dogs were the only ones you’d genuinely get.

“Who’s a cutie? Huh? You are.” You continued to baby-talk to the dog before finally leaving him alone. “I’m sorry- I just- aww look at him.” You expressed to Shiv.

She smiled, putting her hands up in defense. “No- it’s okay.” She laughed. “I’m sure Mondale very much appreciated the welcome.” She was just happy someone gave him attention. She tried but was far too busy for him. He mostly was attached to Tom or the people who actually took care of him. “Are you doing okay so far?” She checked in with you. She knew your asset value in the company. She did genuinely like you, but she knew she needed to be closer to you.

“Oh-uh, I’m alright. Just a bit of an intense day. I’m glad you invited me over.” You expressed your gratitude. She shooed off the ego boost, wanting to stay humble. But The Roys were nothing close to humble as Roman started his grand entrance into the apartment.

“Sup cunts.��� He greeted the room before going to Shiv, giving you a small hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Wow- how sweet of you to show up.” Shiv was annoyed at the term he used against her. It was more so directed at Tom and Shiv than you.

“Fucking cry in your 4000 thread pillows bout it.” Roman shrugged off her annoyance. He was too focused on your well-being and happiness. If he hadn’t, he would’ve never been here.

“You guys are such a healthy family. I mean- I, of all people, should know healthy family dynamics.” You teased both of them, hinting how the toxicity of their dynamic was a bit much.

“Mhm. Exactly. Just like those fuckers from The Brady Bunch. Shiv, which one are you?” Roman played on with the joke. “Rome- ew.” Shiv dismissed him. She was still so shocked someone like you was willing to be involved with Roman. He was awful. And you were well more put together than he was. Maybe it was just an experiment for you. Maybe you were one of those girls who tried to fix other men.

“You’re the one making fucky eyes at me.” Roman tried to defend his joke. But it only grossed Shiv out even more. “Fucky eyes? I’m not making fucky eyes.” Shiv was on the defense. But you were too entertained to stop the arguing just yet. Roman mimicked the look she gave him, standing by his point before you jumped in.

“Okay Roman- enough. Your sister doesn’t want to fuck you. And if you tell me you’ve thought of fucking her, I’m leaving.” You threatened.

“Thank you. Finally, one fucking sane human being involved in this shit.” Shiv was lucky enough that some normal enough was willing to stand her brother for this long. Credit, she’s shocked Roman genuinely even liked women.

“Oh fucking, please. My therapist said I’m perfectly normal.” Roman scoffed. “Your therapist says whatever he does to please you Rome.” Shiv snapped back. You tried to deescalate this before it ended in a very vicious argument where it would upset the other.

“I’m shocked you both even have one. So, where’s Tom?” You asked Shiv. Shiv shrugged before watching Tom come down the stairs just in time to save you from this.

“Oh great. The fucking normies are here now.” Roman giggled. You glared at him. You were slightly annoyed to be grouped in as ‘normie’ based on your upbringing not being extremely rich and privileged. He tried to apologize with a hand hold and kiss on the shoulder though. You had him completely whipped. “Hey- thank you so much for coming.” Tom tried to play it cool as he reached out to shake your hand. You took it regardless. “Tom, we’ve met before.” You snickered at how formal he had been.

Shiv was already on your side. “Yeah, honey. Come on.” She tapped him on the shoulder.

“No- I- uh- I know. I just thought it’d be- uh- just polite to our guests.” Tom tried to save some sort of face, but Roman made it worse as he stood up straighter and put his hand out to Tom. “So glad we could make it. Tell me your name again? Don’t care.” Roman tried to mimic and make fun of Tom, but Shiv would defend Tom against only Roman.

“You were at our fucking wedding dick.” Shiv rolled her eyes, trying to defend her husband in front of you, knowing it’s what ‘a good wife’ would do.

“Hmm still didn’t care to learn his name.” Roman shrugged. “Have a more memorable wedding next time sis.” You were shocked to hear how vulgar and rude Roman could be. Especially to Tom.

“Roman, he didn’t mean anything by it.” You reprimanded him in a soft tone. “Uh- well. Tom how’s ATN doing?” You asked.

But Tom was stressed about other things to even worry about ATN but had to put on a brave enough face for the crowd. “Oh- it’s been just fine. You know… just- fucking trying to dodge the Nazis out of the building.” He accidentally reminded you of the scandal of them nearly hiring a new news anchor with a white supremacy background.

“What? A fucking Nazi?” You questioned. Roman just giggled in the back, watching how terribly nervous and shaken Tom had been.

“It’s such a long drawn-out story.” Tom tried to die down the topic. “When’s the food ready?” Tom was eager to leave this conversation and move onto something else. “How have you been? It’s been a long day, huh?” He sent over his fake condolence. God, you wish people would stop asking.

“Oh- just fine. Just some family drama.” You simplified it to that.

It always felt awkward around Tom. Maybe because he already had someone who didn’t fit into their world. He couldn’t collect all of you. It felt like there was no gain to have, especially with you being a woman. And being so attached to the man who reminded him constantly of his shortcomings.

“Dinner should be ready in 5 minutes. We’ll set up the table.” One of the chefs informed Shiv and Tom. She nodded and sent them off their way. The table had been set up shortly and you were all instructed on when to finally come in. You sat alongside Roman as Tom and Shiv sat across. Plates of food slowly poured through the door and were set in front of you.

“Thank you for having us again Shiv.” You thanked her once again as she grabbed the bottle of wine off the table and began to unscrew it.

“It’s nothing. Don’t stress.” She popped the cork out and poured herself a glass before setting the bottle down for grabs. You poured one glass before passing it around to everyone else at the table.

“Did you see what Kendall said to the press earlier? He’s completely gone ape shit.” She struck up a conversation with Roman. Roman raised an eyebrow, waiting for Shiv to tell him. “He said the reason we have not joined ties with him is because we’re scared of dad and that dad’s using a victim's trauma for views and sympathy.” Shiv laughed at how ridiculous it was for Kendall.

“But you both are scared of Logan.” You pointed out. Shiv paused as if she hadn’t ever been scared of him. Definitely Roman and sometimes Kendall, but she didn’t think she was. Maybe a little.

“Well- that’s just… that’s not why we don’t support him. I mean he’s trying to put us in jail for something. I mean- Tom might even go to prison.” Shiv explained, but you shrugged. You didn’t see any of that happening. Sure, everything was pretty serious, but how long can this investigation go? Why would they arrest the kids who had no say in it? They didn’t purposely hide evidence.

“I don’t know. I think Ken is digging himself a grave. He keeps bringing up victims this, victims that, it’s starting to seem disingenuous. As if these women aren’t a person with a name and life; just victims.” You scoffed at how disgusting Kendall had been. He refused to even say your name. Just saying ‘victim’ as a placeholder instead. He didn’t view you as a person. Just something to profit off of.

“I’m sorry….” Shiv tried to apologize to you. You shook your head, not wanting to focus on it.

“Ken ever since high school has been a fraud. He thinks reading women talk about hating men is a personality trait.” Roman knew this was the best way to remove the topic off of you and onto him and Kendall. “Can you please start reading books to him at night? I feel like he only listens to you.” Shiv rolled her eyes at her brother's sexism.

“No amount of training can make Roman less hateful.” Tom disagreed with Shiv. “Oh, come on. You’ve seen how he’s been. He’s completely pussy whipped. I’ve never seen-“ Shiv laughed at her brother's expense. “Fucking haha. Fuck you. I’m not like Tom.” Roman decided to fire back. Shiv couldn’t help but laugh at her brother's annoyance.

“Rome- It wasn’t meant anything bad. You just now know what it’s like to be a regular boy.” Shiv continued to prod Roman’s insecurities of not being normal. You held his hand under the table for some kind of comfort, looking at him carefully to show him some kind of support.

“Everyone finds their person at different stages.” You defended. “I mean how old were you and Tom when you both got together?” You asked to get off the topic of Roman. This whole dinner was filled with one person being the main target of the conversation to only be jumped to the next target.

“We met back in college.” Tom smiled at Shiv lovingly as he reminisced back at the time, but Shiv seemingly wanted to forget that part of her life.

“Tell them when you both actually met.” Roman incited the story, chewing on his food amused at what the true tale was.

“That’s not- ugh… I was just a dumb fucking college student. Uh- yea it was finally when I was away from dad, so at a party I threw up in front of everyone and Tom held my hair in the bathroom.” Shiv tried to make it seem as though it was a lot harsher than it truly was. Everyone had those phases in college. It was just the college experience. You were a lot worse a few years ago when you started college. You were sneaking into clubs, doing coke with strangers, acid, molly, ketamine, whatever the fuck you were ever given.

“Oh- that’s sweet of him though.” You tried to praise Tom. Tom appreciated that some kind of good intentions were brought into his actions.

“I guess. I mean it was humiliating.” Shiv hid her face.

“No- I mean seriously. If he was some stranger and he took you home to only help you out, that’s incredibly sweet. He could’ve just ignored it like everyone.” You kept trying to push the narrative. Shiv nodded, looking at Tom finally smiling about the moment they met. Maybe it was sweet of Tom.

“I mean- I saw her beforehand a few times. But I finally went to the party she always went to. And her friends- woo- awful people. But yea- they just left her there. So instead of letting her be even more embarrassed, I carried her to her dorm and stayed with her till she was okay. And then asked her out in the morning.” Tom continued to recollect the memories of him and Shiv. Deep down, he was truly in love with her. It just was hard to love her. Shiv put her hand over Tom’s and squeezed it lightly.

“Well- me and y/n met through a hooker website.” Roman lied as if they didn’t already know how you and Roman had met.

You giggled, but the rest of them didn’t. You always found Roman ridiculous. No one understood how you could so carelessly laugh at the weird disgusting shit he ever said.

“Noooo- come on. It was sexual workplace harassment. Remember? That’s what the tabloids say.” You could finally laugh at what was occurring around you in the media. That’s when it hit Shiv and Tom. You were perfect for Roman. His other half. A more stable liberal put-together version of him.

[hunzzzzz]

Tell me sweet little lies: part 6

Summary: During a tense weekend in the Hamptons, Diane's pursuit of a story involving Kendall Roy takes a turn. Diane's journalistic detachment wavers, replaced by growing empathy. The escalating emotions of the weekend threaten to overwhelm her.

TW: smut on the beach, face sitting, vaginal fingering, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation

A/N: oooohh Kendall is so baby girl, I just want to give him a big hug

🦋🐟🐬🐠🧢🐳🩵👕🖌️🛋️🫂🎽🐋💦🌊💧🧊🪼🫐

Kendall watched Diane shift restlessly beside him, the moonlight from the window painting her face in stark contrasts of light and shadow. "Can't sleep?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

"Nope," she yawned, her eyes wide and dark. "You?"

He turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "Same here. Just… a lot on my mind."

Diane turned to face him, her brow furrowed slightly. "What is it?"

He sighed, a sound heavy with the weight of years. "Oh, you know. Just ever shitty thing that's happened since I can remember."

Diane's lips curved into a small, sympathetic smile. "Yeah, like what?"

"Like the time when I was 7, I got a dog for my birthday. A little golden retriever puppy I named Scout. I was obsessed with him. He was my best friend, the only thing in my life that felt genuinely mine, unconditionally loving. One afternoon, I was walking him in the park, and I let him off the leash for just a second. He ran off, chasing a squirrel. I searched for hours, called his name until my voice was hoarse. I never found him. My parents didn't care. They just said, 'It's just a dog,' and got me a new one a few weeks later— but it wasn’t the same. Nothing could ever replace Scout; he was precious."

"Or sparring with my dad… he used to make me box with him, at the ripe age of, what, 10? 11? He’d put on these old, worn-out gloves, and tell me to ‘toughen up.’ He wouldn’t hold back. Not really. He’d hit me hard enough to bruise, sometimes. One time, he knocked me down, and I remember just lying there on the floor, staring up at him. He just stood over me, saying ‘You're not hurt. Get up.’ It wasn’t about teaching me to defend myself. It was about… proving something. To himself, I guess. That he was strong. That I was weak. That I was his to break." He ran a hand through his hair, a flicker of pain crossing his features. 

Diane's eyes widened, a genuine sympathy in their depths. "Oh Kendall, that's… awful."

A bitter chuckle escaped Kendall's lips. "Oh, and how could I ever forget the custody battle… they lined us up, me, Shiv, and Rome, and picked us, one by one, like we were being auctioned off. I was the last one left. The 'leftover.' My mom was so mortified—more by the optics, I think, than by my actual feelings—that she renegotiated the whole thing just to avoid taking me." He shook his head, the memory still sharp after all these years.

“I’m sorry, Kendall.” Diane whispered.

"That's just the tip of the iceberg," he said, his voice flat, almost devoid of emotion. "When I was thirteen, my first girlfriend admitted she only dated me to climb the social ladder. Dumped me the second she realized I wasn't going to get her into the 'in' crowd. It wasn't even personal, really. I was just a means to an end." He shrugged, but the gesture didn't quite mask the lingering hurt. 

"And then, a few years later, my grandfather, who was like a father to me—the only father I ever truly knew—got sick. I spent months visiting him in the hospital, watching him fade away. The day he died, I was supposed to give a presentation in class. I went anyway, thinking I could compartmentalize. I got halfway through, broke down in front of everyone, and ran out of the room. I never finished the presentation. I never even went back to that class."

"But you learned from it, right?" Diane said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. Her fingers were cool against his skin. “You wouldn’t be who you are today if you didn’t get such tough skin from all of that, right?”

Kendall gave a wry, humorless smile. "I learned that some people are users. I learned that even hard work can lead to disaster. I learned that grief can hit you at the most inconvenient times. I learned that my own father saw me as something to conquer, not to nurture. And that sometimes, even your own mother can’t bear to look at you. I don't think a kid needs to learn all that. I should have been worried about algebra, not social manipulation and the casual cruelty of the people who were supposed to protect me." He looked at Diane, his eyes searching, pleading for understanding. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

"No," she said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I… I like listening to you." She pulled her hand back, tucking it under the covers. In the dim light, Kendall couldn't see the way her fingers were twisting the fabric of the sheet.

"What about you?" he asked gently. "What's keeping you up?"

Diane hesitated, her heart pounding against her ribs. The image of the box, the tape, the crimson stain on the rough cloth, the file , flashed through her mind. I killed him. It was an accident. The words echoed in her head, a chilling mantra. She swallowed hard, forcing them back down. She glanced at Kendall, at the genuine concern in his eyes, and a wave of guilt washed over her.

"Just… a light sleeper." she mumbled, avoiding his gaze. She pulled the covers up to her chin, as if trying to shield herself from his questions. It wasn't a lie, not entirely, but the truth was buried beneath layers of fear and desperation.

"Oh, shit my bad. I’m sorry for waking you, I uh, I sometimes get night terrors.” He muttered an apology, feeling guilty. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered, “I was just worried about you.”

“Don't let me keep you up. You need your precious beauty sleep.” He gently brushed her hair away from her forehead, his touch lingering.

When Kendall looked at Diane, a feeling bloomed in his chest, unfamiliar and potent. Was it love? A terrifying, exhilarating possibility. He’d never known it, not from Logan Roy, a man whose billions couldn’t buy him an ounce of paternal warmth. Logan’s affection was transactional, reserved for business deals and power plays, never for his children. 

And his mother, Caroline… Caroline was a ghost in his life, a beautiful, brittle creature more concerned with her social standing than her offspring. She’d never breastfed her children, couldn't be bothered with the messy, intimate act of nurturing. From the moment they were born, they were handed off to a rotating cast of nannies and maids, their cries and needs a mere inconvenience to her perfectly manicured existence.

He’d spent his life chasing his parents’ approval, believing achievement would unlock their love. He’d excelled in school, captained the lacrosse team, pursued every venture his father suggested, hoping to finally earn a flicker of recognition, a word of praise. But their indifference had become a constant hum in the background of his life, a confirmation of his inherent unworthiness. Their eyes, when they did fall on him, held a chilling emptiness, as if they were looking through him, not at him. After the divorce, Caroline had all but vanished, choosing to settle for sprawling estates and lucrative investments rather than fight for custody. Land and property held more value to her than her own children. It was a stark, brutal message: they were disposable.

Even his marriage to Rava, a logical, expected step, had lacked a spark. It was a union born of societal pressure and a desperate attempt to create a semblance of normalcy, not love. Fatherhood, too, had failed to fill the void, overshadowed by Logan’s dismissive attitude towards his grandchildren, treating them as pawns in his ongoing power games.

Then there was Diane. At first, a welcome distraction, a brief respite from the crushing weight of his family’s legacy. Now… something more. She didn’t demand perfection or offer conditional acceptance like his family. Their shared experiences of childhood pain, though different in their specifics, resonated deeply. They understood the unspoken language of neglect, the constant ache of feeling unseen. Unlike Rava, who tried to mold him into a version of himself she found acceptable, Diane simply listened . She saw him, the real him, with all his flaws and insecurities. With Rava, he’d always worn a mask, playing the role of the successful husband and father, a performance he could never quite perfect, especially with his father’s critical gaze always in his mind.

Diane had found him in the depths of despair. The night they met, he was a wreck, a monument to self-destruction, lost in a haze of expensive whiskey, crushed pills, and a self-loathing that gnawed at him from the inside out. He’d been on the verge of oblivion, teetering on the precipice of something dark and irreversible. But instead of recoiling like everyone else—the concerned glances that quickly turned to averted eyes, the hushed whispers of “poor Kendall,” the thinly veiled disgust—she’d offered a brief respite from his agony. 

And it wasn't just that one night. It was the weeks that followed, the slow, agonizing unraveling of Vaulter, the public humiliation, the feeling of utter failure that threatened to consume him. He’d expected her to disappear, to join the chorus of disappointed voices, to add her name to the long list of people who had abandoned him. But she didn't. When he was down in the dumps, curled up in the fetal position on his couch, reeking of stale liquor and despair, she stayed. She didn't try to fix him, didn't offer empty platitudes or unsolicited advice. She simply sat with him, a silent presence in his storm. She offered comfort in small gestures: a hand on his shoulder, a gentle stroke of his hair, a massage; her touch was a welcome distraction—only she could make him feel good..

He’d never known such kindness, such unwavering acceptance. His past relationships had been built on performance, on the expectation that he would always be the strong one, the successful one, the one who had it all together. With Diane, there were no expectations, no masks to maintain. He could be his broken, flawed self, and she wouldn't flinch.

Kendall was falling in love, a sensation entirely new to him, a terrifying and exhilarating freefall. He’d never known such a profound connection, such a deep and abiding affection. The love he’d witnessed had always been conditional, transactional, a tool for manipulation or a means to an end. He’d always doubted his capacity for love, his worthiness of it, convinced that he was incapable of giving or receiving such a pure and vulnerable emotion. Yet, here he was, feeling it for the first time.

And he would do anything to keep this woman in his life. The feeling he felt was aggressive and fraught— he wanted her with panic and passion. 

————————————————————————-

Kendall woke up in the predawn hours, sleep eluding him. He watched Diane, her peaceful form curled away from him. A surge of affection washed over him, and he pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her protectively. Soon, he was lulled back to sleep by the warmth of her body.

The first slivers of dawn pierced the curtains, painting the room in shades of grey. Diane stirred, her eyes snapping open. She was trapped, a prisoner in Kendall’s suffocating embrace. His grip was a vise. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, a low rumble against her ear.

“Let me up,” she said, a tremor in her voice as she tried to subtly pry his fingers loose.

“You’re so warm,” he protested, his hold tightening, a possessive edge creeping into his tone. “What’s the rush?”

Panic flared in Diane’s chest. Under her pillow, hidden from view, lay the box– the box containing the evidence. She had to move it, now. Before he saw. “I just… I like to start my day early,” she stammered, forcing a lightness into her voice, desperately trying to coax him out of bed, away from the pillow.

“Five more minutes,” he groaned, pulling her even closer, his breath hot on her neck.

“You’re such a diva,” she teased, a brittle laugh escaping her lips. Inside, her mind raced, calculating, strategizing. The seconds ticked by like hammer blows.

Kendall held her captive for what felt like an eternity, a suffocating closeness that made her skin crawl. Finally, with a sigh of exaggerated reluctance, he relented, but only after she promised him a “special present” and whispered promises of making him “feel good” after his shower – a promise that tasted like ash in her mouth.

The moment he was out of sight, the bathroom door clicking shut, Diane lunged for the pillow. Her fingers closed around the box, cold and hard in her trembling hand. She shoved it deep into her bag. A wave of nausea washed over her. This trip. This charade. It was all about uncovering the truth behind the cruise scandal, a truth buried deep beneath layers of lies and deceit. The stakes were higher than she’d ever imagined. This information was crucial, not just for her article, but for something much bigger. She took a shaky breath, steeling her resolve. No matter the cost.

When Kendall emerged, freshly showered and radiating an oblivious charm, Diane was already in the kitchen, forcing herself to appear calm and collected.

“I was promised a reward?” Kendall announced, a playful grin spreading across his face. 

“Yes, you were,” Diane replied, a smirk playing on her lips. She slid a mug of steaming coffee towards him across the counter. “I made you coffee.” Of course, she knew he was expecting something more than coffee.

“You played me,” he pouted, his playful tone not quite masking a hint of disappointment.

“I never specified anything,” she giggled, her tone light and teasing.

“Maybe you just need some energy,” he suggested, his eyes twinkling with a playful light. He took a sip of the coffee, then set the mug down with a decisive clink. “Let’s go out for breakfast.”

It was the last thing she wanted. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to flee, to return home with the file and the box, to dissect every piece of evidence, to finally break this story wide open. The need for a breakthrough was a burning obsession. But she couldn’t. Not yet. She forced a smile, a mask of compliance. 

“Sure,” she agreed, her voice light and airy. She knew she had to play along, at least for now.

—————————————————————————

“Where are we going?” Diane asked, watching the blossoming trees blur past the window. She rolled it down, welcoming the spring breeze that tousled her hair, a fleeting moment of normalcy in the tense undercurrent between them.

Breakfast had been a strained affair. Kendall, clearly exhausted from a restless night, yawned incessantly, a stark contrast to his usual vibrant self. He pushed through it, though, his gaze fixed on Diane, as if her mere presence could ward off his fatigue. Spending time with her was paramount.

“It’s a surprise,” Kendall said, glancing at her, a look of almost unsettling adoration in his eyes. “But I think you’ll like it.”

“How do you know that?” she asked, a flicker of suspicion igniting within her.

“Well,” he began, a mischievous glint in his eye, “your horoscope said you were going to have a day full of nostalgia and adventures. It said you’d spend it with a special someone.” He winked, the gesture feeling strangely heavy.

“Bullshit,” she retorted, rolling her eyes. “You’re winding me up. Ha ha.” The laugh felt forced, brittle.

“I’m not,” he insisted earnestly. “That’s what it said on Elle, swear on my life.”

“But you don’t even believe in that stuff,” she said, narrowing her eyes, trying to decipher if this was some elaborate joke, or something far more unsettling.

“Yeah, but you do, so it doesn’t matter what I think,” he replied, taking her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers, resting their joined hands in her lap. The casual intimacy felt like a violation.

“You’re creeping me out now, seriously,” she rolled her eyes. “What is this secret location you’re taking me to?” 

The unease wasn’t just about the mystery destination. It was about his sudden, intense focus on her, the way he seemed to be cataloging her every like and dislike. It was a dangerous game he was playing, a slippery slope that would inevitably lead to probing questions, intimate inquiries that she couldn’t afford.

Diane was always on edge around Kendall, a constant state of vigilance. She could never let her guard down, every word carefully weighed, every action meticulously planned. The risk of her cover being blown was a constant, suffocating pressure. The strain was taking its toll, a stark contrast to the easy comfort Kendall seemed to radiate in her presence. He was free, open, while she was trapped in a cage of her own making.

“Relax, you’re so tense,” he said, squeezing her hand again, oblivious to her inner turmoil. “You’re gonna love it.”

“Mhmm,” Diane mumbled, offering a weak, uneasy smile.

Finally, Kendall parked the car. He climbed out, then rounded the vehicle, opening Diane’s door, offering his hand to help her out. As the building came into view, her breath caught in her throat. It was an aquarium. A genuine smile touched her lips.

“I know your Pisces quirks,” he smirked, a smug satisfaction in his voice, pulling her towards the entrance. “You love water.” The casual observation, the way he’d filed away this small detail about her, sent another wave of unease through her. This wasn’t just a date. It was something else. Something she couldn’t quite define, but it felt like a trap closing around her.

The aquarium was a kaleidoscope of blues and greens, a mesmerizing underwater world teeming with life. Diane was captivated. Schools of shimmering fish darted past coral reefs, rays glided effortlessly through the water, and majestic sharks patrolled their domain. For a brief, precious moment, she forgot about the box, the lies, the constant vigilance. She was simply Diane, a woman enjoying the wonders of the ocean.

They watched playful sea otters tumble over each other, their sleek bodies twirling in the water. They stood mesmerized by the graceful ballet of jellyfish, their translucent forms pulsating with an ethereal glow. They even braved the touch tank, Diane hesitantly reaching out to stroke the rough skin of a starfish. Laughter bubbled up from her, genuine and unrestrained, a sound Kendall drank in like a man parched in a desert.

But the idyllic atmosphere began to shift as Kendall’s curiosity, previously charming, turned into something more intense. He started asking questions, probing beneath the surface, wanting to know the real Diane, the woman hidden behind the carefully constructed façade.

“What’s your favorite exhibit so far?” he asked, his eyes fixed on her, searching.

“Probably the beluga whales,” she replied, her gaze still on the massive white creatures swimming in their tank. “They’re so intelligent.”

“Like you,” he murmured, then, more pointedly, “So uh, what do you do for fun? You love the water, I know that much, but what else?”

The question hung in the air, the lightheartedness of the moment dissipating. Diane hesitated. “I… I don’t really have much time for fun,” she said, a half-truth slipping past her lips. “Work keeps me pretty busy.”

“You’re always working,” he observed, a hint of concern in his voice. “Don’t you have any friends? People you hang out with?”

“Not really,” Diane paused, considering her response. “I mean, I have friends,” she corrected herself, a slight catch in her throat. “I do. But I… I just don’t have time for them. I can’t explain it. When I’m with them, all I’m thinking about is the next project at work. I’m there, but not really there. Work alway has and will be my number one priority.”

It was the truth. Diane’s work ethic was relentless, bordering on obsessive. Late nights in the office were the norm, not the exception. She refused to leave until she was satisfied, driven by an internal engine that never seemed to run out of fuel.

This drive stemmed from her upbringing. Raised by hard working parents, she had learned the value of perseverance and dedication from a young age. Both her mother and father had worked tirelessly to provide her with the best life possible. Her mother, a dedicated nurse, often picked up extra shifts around holidays like her birthday and Christmas, sacrificing precious time to afford her the most luxurious gifts. Her father, a hardworking businessman who ran a small advertising company, had saved every penny from the day she was born to fund her college education. “You’re destined for greatness,” he would often tell her, instilling in her a deep belief in her own potential.

Driven by a potent mix of ambition and gratitude, Diane had excelled in her studies. Her near-perfect GPA had opened doors, leading her to a successful career in journalism. She poured her heart and soul into her work, striving for excellence in everything she did. This relentless drive was the reason she was so immersed in this current article, the cruise scandal. She had been promised a promotion, a reward she could almost taste. But beneath the professional ambition lay a deeper motivation: to make her parents proud. She wanted to show them that their sacrifices, their tireless efforts, hadn’t been in vain. She had to.

Kendall’s expression clouded slightly. “That’s… kind of sad,” he said softly. “Everyone needs someone.”

“My parents— my mom, she sacrificed everything for me,” she said, her voice softening. “That’s why I work so hard. I can’t let her down.”

“So that’s what drives you?” Kendall asked, his voice gentle. “The need to make them proud?”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding slowly. “I guess it is.”

The conversation had taken a decidedly personal turn. Diane felt exposed, vulnerable. She had revealed more than she intended, offering glimpses into her past, half-truths woven with genuine emotion. Kendall, on the other hand, seemed satisfied, a small smile playing on his lips. He had learned something new about her, something he thought brought them closer. But for Diane, it was a dangerous game, a tightrope walk between truth and deception, and she knew she couldn’t keep it up forever.

“I… I can relate to that, Diane,” Kendall said, his voice a low, gravelly murmur. “My dad… I was never good enough for him. Still amn’t.” He looked away, his gaze lost in the swirling water of a nearby tank, as if re-living a painful memory. “I spent my whole life trying to make him proud. But I always fail. Every single time.”

He recounted a harrowing memory, his voice laced with bitterness. “Even after he had the stroke… I went to see him once he woke up. He could barely speak, but he still managed to call me a ‘fucking moron.’ Even on his deathbed, he couldn’t bring himself to say he was proud.” A shudder ran through him. “I’m terrified,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. “Terrified that his dying words will be that I’m a failure.”

The raw emotion in his voice was unsettling. Diane, ever the opportunist, saw a chance to delve deeper, to gather more information about Logan Roy, the man behind the monster. This wasn't about genuine empathy; it was about the story, the information she desperately needed.

“Why?” she asked, her voice soft, feigning concern. “Why did you let him treat you like that?”

Kendall hesitated, a flicker of pain crossing his face. He looked at Diane, his eyes filled with a deep, almost desperate need for understanding. “He’s holding some shit over my head, to control me,” he admitted, his voice strained. 

Diane’s pulse quickened. This was it. This was the opening she’d been waiting for. His confession he murmured in his sleep last night: “I killed him. It was an accident.” 

“What is it?” she pressed gently, her voice laced with feigned sympathy. She had to tread carefully; pushing too hard would raise suspicion.

Kendall looked away again, his expression a mixture of shame and fear. He remained silent for a long moment, the only sound the gentle hum of the aquarium’s filtration system. The tension in the air was palpable.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “I can’t… It’s nothing… never mind,” he said, shaking his head slowly. 

She softened her expression, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

Diane pressed further, her mind racing, trying to find a new angle to extract the information she craved. She remembered Kendall’s restless night, his night terror. “Was that what your nightmare was about last night?” she asked, her voice soft and concerned, tilting her head slightly. “Your dad?”

Kendall flinched, a visible ripple of discomfort passing over his face. He looked away, his gaze darting around the aquarium, landing on nothing in particular. The playful sea otters, the graceful jellyfish, the imposing sharks – none of it seemed to register. He was lost in his own private world of pain and fear.

He hesitated for a long moment, then shook his head slowly. “No,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. “It wasn’t about him.”

The curt response hung in the air, a clear signal that the subject was closed. Diane could see the shutters coming down, the walls rising back up around him. He wasn’t going to offer any more information, not willingly.

She tried a different tack, softening her tone, feigning a casual interest. “Nightmares can be so strange,” she said, forcing a light chuckle. “Sometimes they’re just random images and feelings, not really about anything specific.”

Kendall remained silent, his gaze fixed on the swirling water of a nearby tank. He didn’t respond, didn’t offer any further explanation. The silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable.

Kendall abruptly changed the topic, the shift in his mood almost jarring. “Let’s go play with the penguins,” he announced, a forced lightness in his voice. He reached for Diane’s hand, his fingers intertwining with hers, and began walking briskly in their direction, as if trying to outpace the heavy emotions that had just hung between them.

As they walked, Diane’s mind replayed everything Kendall had just revealed. A strange feeling stirred within her, something she hadn’t anticipated. A flicker of… empathy? It was an unwelcome sensation, a crack in the carefully constructed wall she had built around herself. Kendall, the man she had pegged as powerful, perhaps even villainous, suddenly appeared different. He seemed like a little boy trapped in a man’s body, a broken soul struggling beneath a surface of wealth and privilege.

She saw him now, not as the entitled heir she had imagined, but as a victim of circumstance. He was trapped under the oppressive weight of his father, unable to break free. The image of the spoiled rich bachelor began to crumble, replaced by a more nuanced, complex picture. Perhaps his behavior, his flaws, were a direct result of his upbringing, of the tyrannical figure that loomed over his life.

Diane was slowly peeling back his layers, uncovering the pain and hurt he carried deep within. A father who was a tyrant, wielding his power like a weapon. His mother hadn’t just left; she had abandoned them. Abandoned him and his siblings in the midst of a bitter divorce, choosing material possessions, property, over her own children. A brother who had betrayed him, a wound that cut deeper than any physical injury. It was a devastating combination, a recipe for deep-seated trauma. The image of a villain that she had expected dissolved completely, replaced by the stark reality of a deeply wounded child.

Kendall hadn’t just been through a “terrible childhood”; he had endured a series of profound betrayals, wounds that had clearly never healed. It wasn’t just about being rich and privileged; it was about the absence of love, the lack of emotional support, the deep-seated feeling of being unwanted.

The penguins, with their comical waddle and playful antics, provided a temporary distraction. Diane was genuinely delighted by their antics, she pointed out their individual quirks, laughing as they slipped and slid on the ice. Kendall found himself smiling, drawn in by her infectious enthusiasm, his earlier melancholy momentarily forgotten.

But even as Diane laughed alongside him, the feeling of empathy lingered. It was a disconcerting sensation, one she struggled to reconcile with her mission. She was supposed to be objective, focused on the story, not emotionally invested in the subject. Yet, she couldn’t deny the shift in her perception of Kendall. He was no longer just a source of information, a pawn– but he was also a victim. 

The game had changed. It wasn't just about getting the story anymore; it was about something much more complicated, something she couldn't quite define.

—————————————————————————-

The afternoon was a promise of summer, a taste of the warmth to come. The Hamptons air, still carrying a hint of spring’s crispness, held the faintest whisper of salt and blooming beach roses. The sky, a brilliant, almost blinding blue, stretched endlessly overhead, the sun a benevolent presence warming their skin. From her perch on the yacht, Diane’s gaze swept across the scene: the coastline, a gentle curve of sand dunes and swaying beach grass, punctuated by the stately homes that lined the shore, their weathered shingles gleaming in the sunlight. The water, a vibrant turquoise, shimmered and danced, reflecting the sun’s rays like a thousand tiny diamonds. A few early sailboats, their white sails billowing in the gentle breeze, dotted the horizon, harbingers of the summer fleet soon to arrive.

Kendall, however, remained oblivious to the beauty surrounding him, lost in a deep, much-needed slumber. He was sprawled across a cushioned sunbed, his face turned towards the sun, absorbing its warmth like a cat basking in a sunbeam. He’d been wound tight all morning, a restless energy simmering beneath his usually controlled exterior, but the gentle rocking of the yacht and the warmth of the afternoon had finally coaxed him into a state of rare tranquility. His head rested comfortably on Diane’s bare thighs, his dark hair tousled, a shadow of stubble darkening his jaw.

Diane, seated on the edge of the sunbed, a well-worn paperback resting open in her lap, sipped her Prosecco, the tiny bubbles a pleasant tickle against her lips. The sun warmed her skin, but she was mindful of Kendall’s fair complexion. Every so often, she’d squeeze a generous dollop of high-SPF sunscreen onto her hand and gently rub it into his exposed back, her touch light and careful, avoiding the faint scars that marred his skin – she wondered how he got them, was his father so cruel?

He stirred in his sleep, a soft murmur escaping his lips. “Mmm… thanks,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He shifted slightly, nuzzling his face deeper into her thigh, a small, almost childlike gesture. For the first time in his life, someone was truly taking care of him, protecting him, not from physical harm, but from the constant, gnawing anxieties that plagued his mind. It was a small, almost insignificant act of care, but in its simplicity, it felt profoundly significant.

—————————————————————————-

After the sunset, they returned to the shore, the last vestiges of daylight painting the sky in hues of fading rose and soft lavender. Fine grains of sand clung to their skin. Diane was sprawled comfortably beside him on a beach blanket, his oversized Yale sweatshirt draped over her bikini, the sleeves swallowed by her small hands. 

It was a stark contrast to her usual meticulously curated appearance— the tailored skirts that skimmed her knees, the crisp blouses buttoned just so, the subtle but perfectly applied makeup that enhanced her features. This casual, almost childlike version of Diane, with her hair tousled by the sea breeze and her face bare of makeup. 

He knew it was pathetic, this almost obsessive focus on her appearance. He was a man who commanded boardrooms, negotiated billion-dollar deals, and yet, he was utterly captivated by the way the fading light caught the curve of her cheek, by the way her bare feet ruffled in the sand. He was pathetic, he knew that, and yet he simply couldn’t bring himself to care. Not at this moment. Not when she looked like this.

She looked so perfect, it was bordering on painful. It was a low, simmering ache in his gut, a tightening in his chest that made it hard to breathe. He swore it was driving him clinically insane. So good that it was making his genius brain, the one that could dissect complex financial models and strategize corporate takeovers, malfunction. And, if he was being brutally honest with himself, it was also making his downstairs ‘brain’ run on overdrive.

She began to trace patterns in the sky with her finger, her voice soft and hushed, as if sharing a sacred secret. “See that bright one there?” she asked, pointing towards a star just beginning to pierce the twilight. “That’s Arcturus, one of the brightest stars in the spring sky. It’s part of the constellation Boötes, the herdsman. You can find it by following the arc of the Big Dipper’s handle.”

Kendall followed her gaze, his eyes drawn to the emerging point of light. The sky was still transitioning from day to night, a gradient of deep blues and purples, making the few visible stars seem all the more precious. “It’s just starting to come out,” he murmured, a genuine sense of wonder in his voice.

Diane smiled, her eyes reflecting the nascent starlight. “Exactly,” she said. “It’s a sign of spring, a promise of warmer nights to come. And over there,” she continued, shifting her finger slightly, “that’s Leo, the lion. See how it kind of looks like a backwards question mark? Regulus is its brightest star, marking the lion’s heart.” She traced the constellation’s shape in the sky, her finger moving with a graceful precision. “It’s a powerful image, a symbol of strength and courage.”

“Strength,” Kendall repeated, the word catching in his throat. He’d spent so much of his life trying to project an image of strength, a mask that was constantly threatening to slip. The idea of genuine inner strength, the kind that Diane seemed to possess effortlessly, felt like a distant, unattainable dream.

“Yeah,” Diane said, her gaze still fixed on the heavens. “And if you look a little further down, you can see Virgo, associated with the harvest, another sign of the coming abundance of summer. Spring is all about new beginnings, right? A time for things to grow and bloom.” She paused, taking a deep breath of the cool, fragrant air. “It makes you think about possibilities, about what could be.”

Her words, her quiet enthusiasm, had a grounding effect on Kendall. The emerging stars, the ancient stories woven into the constellations, the promise of spring’s renewal, created a space outside of his own anxieties. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt present, connected to something larger than himself, anchored to the earth beneath him. The sand beneath him felt solid, the cool spring air on his skin felt refreshing, and the woman beside him, with her quiet wisdom and gentle spirit, felt like a lifeline in the encroaching darkness.

Kendall admired Diane’s side profile, she was beautiful, not in the polished, calculated way she often presented herself to the world, but in a raw, natural way that took his breath away. Spring was in the air, and it seemed to have breathed new life into her as well. The moonlight cast long shadows across the sand, illuminating the delicate curve of Diane’s cheek, the soft curve of her lips. 

"You look so beautiful," Kendall murmured, his voice low and husky, the sound barely audible above the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore. He leaned in, gently cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing lightly across her cheekbones. His touch was feather-light, hesitant, as if he were afraid she might shatter if he held her too tightly. And then he kissed her.

The kiss was soft, almost tentative at first, like a question being asked rather than a statement being made. Gentle. Nothing rushed. It wasn't the kind of kiss they'd shared before. Their previous encounters had been charged with a different kind of energy, a raw, almost desperate urgency fueled by lust, by the heat of the moment during sex. Those kisses had been demanding, possessive, frantic. 

This was different. This was tender, almost hesitant, a soft exploration rather than a passionate conquest. It was the first time they had kissed like this, fully clothed. The lines blurred in Diane’s mind; this felt dangerously close to real. 

She pulled back slightly, a flicker of confusion, perhaps even a hint of fear, in her eyes. 

Kendall, sensing her hesitation, didn't pull away. He simply stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, his eyes a silent plea, a desperate yearning for something he couldn't quite articulate. He wanted this connection, this moment, to be real, to mean something. He so desperately wanted the heavens above to answer the silent prayer in his heart, to grant him this one thing he craved above all else: genuine, unconditional love.

Diane got lost in his hazel eyes, those pools of vulnerability and longing. Against her better judgment, she leaned back in, her own hand reaching up to touch his arm. Their lips met again, this time with a greater sense of urgency, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Their lips moved in sync, it felt bizarre, wrong on so many levels. This wasn't supposed to happen. But for a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to forget about her plan.

Kendall was kissing her like he was terrified. Terrified he would wake up and it would’ve all been a dream, a fleeting mirage in the desert of his loneliness. He held onto her as if she might disappear at any moment, his lips pressing against hers with a desperate, almost frantic tenderness. He rolled them over, a slow, deliberate movement that shifted their positions on the beach. Now, Diane straddled his hips, her knees sinking slightly into the cool, damp grains of sand. 

“Sit on my face,” Kendall pleaded, squeezing her ass. She frowned as he laid his head down, getting cozy with his head on the sand, still smirking, patting his mouth comically—an invitation. 

“What?” Diane asked not sure what to make of his unusual request. She knew it was a private beach but it still felt too exposed.

When she didn’t move he lifted his head back up, “Come on,” he urged her, tapping her hips to nudge her along, “let me taste you. Sit. On. My. Face.”

Kendall couldn't resist not eating her out whenever he had the chance. She slowly crawled up over him, hesitating once she was straddling his chest, unable to hold back a blush. His warm hands are quick to hook around her thighs, sliding his thumb over her hip bones as she hovered in front of his chin, “come closer.”

He lifted his head up when she finally scooted forward, still hovering. Kendall kissed her inner thigh, smirking as her hips bucked lower towards his touch. 

“Sacred I’m gonna bite?” His lips moved against her thigh, his stubble tickling her as he spoke.

“No, I don’t want to suffocate you.” She pushed her fingers through his hair, gripping at his roots.

“I wish you would, ” he groaned, pulling her lower so he didn’t have to crane his neck to taste her. He licked the wet spot on her bikini, lapping at her juices, moaning before flattening his tongue, dragging it up to her clit to suck lightly through the fabric. 

It wasn’t long before had enough of the thin material blocking his way, aggressively pulling on the strings over her hips to untie it, so he could finally lick her how he wanted. Which she quickly realized was mercilessly. He was hungry—starved for something only her pussy could satiate, drinking her in like he was dehydrated. It was intense. He ate with reverence, slurping loudly and humming in appreciation, his hot lips suctioning on her clit till she was seeing stars. 

Diane’s feedback was choppy, like her brain couldn’t sync up in time to react to his movements— to the sensations. It was all broken moans and shudders, the only thing consistent is the way she pulled his hair.

She was leaning more and more of her weight onto his face and rocking , occasionally lifting a bit when she remembered her self-control. But after she lifted one too many times, Kendall’s fingers tightened around her thighs, holding her close with an ironclad grip— making her squirm.

Kendall was delighted as he peered up at her beneath drunk lashes, eyes just as dazed as his mind as he watched her sumptuous body move on top of him. She tasted like cloyingly honey on the tip of his tongue, her essence lingering in the back of his throat every time he swallowed. He chased the slick beads as they dripped down her plump thighs, greedy mouth attacking her soft insides as she moaned on top of him, her pussy drooling and clenching around nothing as the hot coil inside of her twisted tighter. He groaned against her searing skin, his hot breath tickling her sensitive flesh as every hair on the nape of her neck stood up.

"So beautiful" Kendall muttered, voice dripping with reverence. "You look so beautiful tonight."

He etched the intimate scene into his mind as a pleasant itch tingled at the base of his skull, fingers twitching around her plump hips as he squeezed the pillowy soft skin. His tongue lapped at the dripping seam of her cunt; prying open the puffy folds as indulged in more of your slick nectar flowing from her core like a river. 

Diane almost choked on a hiccup of pleasure, her clit weakly kicking against the press of his nose as he sealed his mouth over her entrance. Her blood simmered in her veins, pulling and tugging on his raven locks, hips shaking as she tried to contain her sudden spike in arousal twisting low in the pit of her gut. A constellation of tears clung to the edges of her lashes as stars swirled in her vision, voice stinging her throat as she struggled to breathe. 

Her legs trembled, her full weight failing upon his lips and tongue—and Kendall couldn’t have been more grateful . It didn't take long for his mouth to become sloppy,  drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. 

Diane’s vision began to blur. She couldn’t tell if it was from tears welling up or the overwhelming sensation building in her core. She was dripping so, so sweetly, and Kendall beneath her hummed, hungry, ravenous, he needed more, he wanted to eat her whole. His tongue slowly circled her bud, and oh fuck, he pulled and it tugged in it, opening the floodgates. The building pressure unfurled, Diane threw her head back, whimpering. And kendall drank it all in.

But he didn’t stop there. He wasn’t done just yet.

He held her in place, still latched onto her clit as she rode out her orgasm. Because cumming once wasn’t enough for him. It didn’t matter that his chin was wet with her, that his tongue was soaked with the taste of her. Kendall wanted to wrack her body until she had nothing left to give. So he kept on sucking and swirling his tongue around her clit, until she came again and again until she was spent, until she screamed without sound, until the stars behind her eyelids faded away into black.

Her hips convulsed around him, putting him in a headlock of sorts, before she released him, her body fell back against his raised knees, he caught her, letting her body take a moment from his torturous tongue.

“Could eat you all night,” he groaned, her legs still open, inches away from his mouth, as her back rested against his thighs, her head draped over his knees. He watched her pink, puffy lips glisten with his residual spit and her own sweet juices.

Diane had gone non-verbal by that point, her body was still shaking as she looked up at the vast expanse of the sky. Kendall moved his middle finger up and down along her slit before taking his middle and index finger to spread open her sensitive lips, admiring her sex dripping for him. He loved the way it glistened. He watched as her walls clenched around nothing, practically begging him to fill her up.

“Kendall, please,” she begged him. Her voice, still raspy. He did a double take at her disheveled appearance. Her eyes bloodshot with her mascara running, smudging her under eyes.

He didn't respond as he spread her lips further apart, letting the cold breeze hit her entrance. Her face heated up while Kendall fully exposed her.  

“You have the tightest little pussy,” he commented, feeling how her entrance wanted to take in his thumb, but he didn't push it in. Not yet.

He finally slipped a finger inside her. Her walls instinctively squeezed around his thick digit. She cried out in pleasure as she squirmed more. The pad of his finger slowly rubbed and pressed firmly on that spongey spot on her walls. She arched her back letting out a strangled cry.

Kendall gently pushed another finger inside her. She bit her lip to stifle a moan as he began pumping them in and out of her slowly. She felt his cock twitch under her. His fingers were knuckle deep, he continued thrusting them inside her. He curled them up and made sure to pay close attention to her g-spot, pressing on it and massaging it. Making her walls clench up, her toes curling in the sand.

“You okay, baby?” Kendall checked in, but his fingers didn’t slow.

“Y-yes… I’m okay, keep going,” she stammered out, as she tried to keep focus.

He chuckled and picked up the pace. His fingers were making her pussy create the most vulgar wet sounds she'd ever heard. Her slick soaking his hand as he fucked her. Her legs shook and he took his other hand to rub tight circles over her clit. 

Kendall didn't stop. His fingers still moved in and out of her while his other hand paid attention to her throbbing clit. He milked her pussy as she rode out her release. He finally slowed down and stilled his hands. Carefully, he removed his fingers with a loud shlick . A string of her juices still connecting to them. He brought them up to his lips, sticking them in his mouth.

Kendall hummed at the taste of her. “You’re so sweet.” She wanted to hide her face, her eyes were glossy, illuminated by the moonlight.

“You're crazy,” Diane whispered, feeling like she just had an out of body experience. He pulled her back down, their chests pressed together, his tongue dancing in her mouth. 

(*siri play champage coast by blood orange; 3:01*)

A rogue wave, emboldened by the rising tide, surged up the beach, engulfing their legs. The sudden rush of icy water sent a jolt through Kendall, a flash of annoyance tightening his features. He scowled at his soaked clothes, the sand now stubbornly clinging to the damp fabric.

But then he looked at Diane.

Her reaction was the complete opposite. She threw her head back and let out a burst of pure, unrestrained laughter—a sound so genuine and carefree, it was infectious. Before Kendall could process his irritation, Diane was running towards the water’s edge, jumping into the sea with a joyful cry, submerging herself completely. The cool water seemed to revitalize her, like a dried-up starfish returned to the ocean.

She resurfaced, her hair plastered to her face, water dripping from her eyelashes, but her smile was radiant. “It’s amazing!” she shouted, her voice echoing across the beach. “Come on in!”

Kendall watched her, a mixture of disbelief and reluctant amusement swirling within him. He was still annoyed about his ruined clothes, but Diane’s infectious joy was hard to resist. He couldn’t understand her carefree attitude, her ability to embrace the unexpected.

He hesitated, glancing at his expensive, now soaked shoes. But Diane’s laughter continued to beckon. He kicked off his shoes and waded into the cold water.

Suddenly, Diane splashed him, a playful wave aimed directly at his chest. Kendall gasped, feigning offense. “Oh, you’re going down!” he shouted, retaliating with a splash of his own. Playful splashes and shrieks echoed across the quiet beach, a stark contrast to Kendall’s usual heavy silence. He chased Diane through the shallows, the cold water a shocking but welcome sensation. As he lunged for her, catching her in his arms, they both tumbled into the waves with a shared cry.

For Kendall, the feeling was almost foreign. He had forgotten what it felt like to simply laugh. The last time he remembered feeling this carefree was a distant memory, a faded snapshot from a childhood that felt like it belonged to someone else. His life had become a carefully constructed performance, a constant striving for his father’s approval. There was no room for joy in the rigid structure he had built around himself. Every action was weighed against his father’s expectations, the burden of his past mistakes, the fear of his uncertain future.

But in that moment, in the cool ocean water, with Diane’s laughter ringing in his ears, the weight lifted. The years of pressure, the constant striving, the deep-seated fear – all of it seemed to wash away with the waves. He was just Kendall, a man playing in the ocean with a woman who made him feel something he couldn’t define. It was more than just attraction; it was connection, a shared moment of pure joy.

He looked at Diane, her face flushed with laughter, and a genuine smile spread across his own. He had forgotten the simple pleasure of being present, of letting go of his worries and simply enjoying another person’s company. She had somehow managed to chip away at the walls he had built around himself, revealing a part of him he thought had long since died. It was terrifying.

They continued their playful fight, splashing and chasing each other until they were both breathless and shivering. They collapsed onto the sand, their wet clothes clinging to their bodies.

“Come on,” Kendall said, extending a hand to her. “Let’s get you inside before you catch a cold.” He gently pulled her to her feet, noticing she was shivering slightly. The sand squished between her toes with every step.

He then bent down, scooping her up into his arms before she could protest. Diane gasped, a surprised laugh escaping her lips. “I can walk,” she protested, though her voice lacked conviction.

“You’re freezing,” he said, his voice firm but gentle, his eyes filled with concern. “And walking in this wet sand isn’t going to help. Besides,” he added with a playful grin, a hint of teasing in his tone, “I think I’ve worn you out tonight?”

Diane met his gaze, a small smile playing on her lips. She didn’t argue, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she nestled against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing counterpoint to the crashing waves. Then, she drifted off.

Kendall carried Diane back to the house, her small frame surprisingly light in his arms. He climbed the porch steps and entered the warm interior, noticing her breathing had become slow and even. He carried her directly to the bedroom and gently laid her on the bed. The wet fabric of her clothes clung uncomfortably to her skin, so he carefully removed his soaked sweatshirt from her, being mindful not to wake her.

He fetched a soft towel and dried her off. He didn't care about the sand that fell onto the sheets or the saltwater that clung to their hair. All that mattered was Diane, the peaceful expression on her sleeping face, the soft rise and fall of her chest.

He found a clean pair of his sweatpants and a soft t-shirt and dressed her, pulling the soft fabric over her still-damp skin. He then lay down beside her, pulling the covers over them both and tightening his hold slightly, drawing her closer. He had never felt this sense of peace, this quiet contentment. It was a feeling that defied explanation—a simple knowing that everything, in that moment, was exactly as it should be.

It was just them, in that quiet room, with the sound of the ocean as their only companion. It felt perfect—a brief escape from the complexities of their lives, a moment of respite. For Kendall, it was a glimpse of something he hadn't known he was missing: a taste of peace and connection. And for Diane, in her sleep, it was a moment of respite from her carefully constructed plan, a brief surrender to the simple comfort of being held.

[hughiecampbelle]

Venom (Roy!Sibling x Roy Family)

((SUCCESSION FINALE SPOILERS))

Characters: Kendall, Roman, Shiv, Connor, Matsson, Tom

Word Count: 1,477

Tag List: @locke-writes

A/N: This is omg y'all!!! Y'all aren't ready ahhh!!!! That's all I can say :P Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

You watch them, horrified. Kendall stop! You’re yelling, trying not to let them hear the crack in your voice, but you can’t help it. He doesn’t seem to hear. He spits venom at your sister, calling her two-faced, saying terrible things about her. She pretends it doesn’t hurt, pretends it doesn’t kill her. The kinds of things Logan would have said. Stop it, now! None of them hear you. None of them see you. You’re invisible now, like you’ve always been. The baby, underestimated from day one because of your order of birth. Roman says something, something you’re not hearing, but seeing. Watching. About his kids. Low blow. Kendall goes for his neck. There are moments like this where you watch your father instead of your brother. Such an angry, bitter, paranoid man. With his hands around him, you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. His name is on the tip of your tongue. Logans, but that is the wrong man before you. This is Kendall. You get between them, prying his hands off Roman. In doing so, you’ve put yourself in the line of fire. His eyes are so wild, so angry. Get off me! You yell, pushing him away, but he’s too strong. He’s too powerful. He holds you against the glass, his hands around your throat, hungry enough to bite. Rabid. You can’t breathe, fighting him off, unable to make any noise. Finally he realizes it’s you. You, not Rome, not Shiv, you. His baby. He lets go immediately, stepping back, stuttering. You can’t help it, the tears begin to run down your cheeks. You saw fury in his eyes, purebred wrath. If he wanted, he could have killed you. Just like Logan. You push through them, out the door, down the hall and towards the elevator. Kendall calls your name quieter now, defeated, ashamed. You don’t turn back. Sniffling, you wait for the doors to close, trying to catch your breath. You dial the number. I knew you’d call. . . 

They turned on one another. They’d decided he would be their successor. The three of them, after Roman disappeared. You were the only one he talked to on the phone, Caroline losing the power to guilt you. You weren’t her child. That was to your advantage. She put him on with strict warnings not to upset him, saying he was fragile. He sounded softer, beaten down, but as defensive as ever. Ken and Shiv are on their way, you warned. I know. He didn’t have enough in him to fight or to joke. He was all facts. Are you okay? Me? I’m fine. You knew he wasn’t, but you weren’t going to go there to see him. You had plans. For now, you had to take his word for it. You weren’t going to ask him for his vote. Quite frankly, it didn’t matter anymore. They could pretend they still had precedence, that the crown they wore could protect them from a beheading. Their heads rolled just the same when dismembered from a body. In fact, it was the crown that weighed them down. They forgot this, racing with one another about who could get to him the fastest. It wouldn’t matter in the end. When would they realize this? When would they accept it already? I have to go, call me if you want, okay? What are you doing that’s so important? Just meeting a friend. 

What about Tom? Tom? He is nothing. You shouldn’t but you laugh. Your drink is strong, his even stronger. But you trust him, you believe him. He can’t be backstabbing everyone. Besides, the x’s have been removed. Yours in their place. You take a look around the bar. Expensive. Oskar and Ebba keeping to themselves off to the side. They come when he says so. They sit when he says so. Now he’s holding a pen. Would you do the same? Your whole life, all you’ve done is follow. Follow your brothers and sister into any war they brought between them and your father, into every media frenzy and disaster because they convinced you it was always in your best interest. It wasn’t, though. It never was. In the end, it was always you getting hurt, taking the blow, having your name smeared across the headlines. From the moment he saw you he’s been trying to save you. They would hold your head under water and tell you they were helping you be a better swimmer. They were trying to kill you, drown you, just so there would be one less body in the pool. You were doing this for you, for them too. To show them that you weren’t just some lap dog they could order around. You were just as much a Roy as any of them. More so, even. You were smarter, you were savvy. You could get what you wanted, you always had. 

Going in, you were meant to warn them. That was the plan. Always. The deal seemed enticing, it was the cherry on top, but you couldn’t hurt them like that. You would not turn into them. But, then they decided on Kendall. Without consulting you, without even asking. They had decided for the family when there were still two more to consider. You knew what Connor would have done, you all did. He would have put up a fight, but in the end would have agreed. You? You were going to warn them. You were going to put out the fire before the house burned down with them in it. Instead they called you from the car that morning, on their way back, telling you he was next. He would be in charge. Had they even considered you? Roman laughs. The baby doesn’t get to be in charge, ever. Kendall chuckled. You didn’t get a vote or say, it was decided. You bit the inside of your cheek, letting the conversation fall. They spoke around you anyways, making all these big decisions without you. It was fine, you decided, hanging up. It was fine. You would tell them when they got here. It wasn’t technically a secret, they just hadn’t asked. That was all. So, you accepted that Kendall would take over. After everything you’ve been through, after everything they put you through, at least there would be an ending. Your phone rang, but you ignored him. Fine, you though, at least it’s staying in the family. You weren’t about to turn bitter. You weren’t about to turn vengeful. 

And then she threw the plan away the minute she could, believing that Tom would be Matsson’s CEO. You were going to tell them, really. As soon as that glass door closed, you were going to spill your guts. About him, about the deal, about everything. You swear on your father’s grave, you were going to tell them. And then he put his hands on you, around your neck, and any alliance you had was over. Any good graces you had left vanished. You wanted them to burn in that house. You wanted the whole world to burn. You put up with enough. With too much for far too long. He’s been trying to save you since you met, giving you outs from the maze you were in. You couldn’t leave them, they were your family. Now? Now they were nothing. They were strangers. You watched the bruises form in the reflective doors all the way down, listening to him carefully. If you still want it, it’s yours. Good. What about Tom? Like I said, he is nothing. Nobody. All you have to do is sign.

Roman and Shiv came back from that meeting, his stitches bloody. She wears a knowing look, the kind that says she thinks she’s won. He signed in front of everyone, in front of Matsson, who signs the stack of legal documents after. I’d like to announce my CEO. Shiv steps forward, but you come up behind her, around Roman, to Lukas’ side. Please welcome, Y/N Roy. Everyone applauds you as you sign your name. Roman’s jaw hangs open before catches himself, then looks to your sister. Her lips remain in a tight line. Tom looks surprised for the both of them, trying to get close to Lukas, but is unable to with all the cameras. Thank you, you whisper to him. You deserve this. You are the most capable Roy. You would have told them, you were going to, but this tastes so much better. You don’t care that your skin till hurts, still burns from his touch. You don’t care that your brother drifts away or that your sister storms off. You don’t care that Kendall is nowhere to be found. You don’t care about them anymore, they never did about you, not when it came to this.  

You win.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Clandestine.

You and Stewy know it’s wrong. So why, pray tell, does it feel so right?

Part Two. Part Three. Part Four.

Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x female Roy reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Cursing, allusions to sexual content

Word Count - 1.5k

Author's Note - in honour of stewy's beautiful appearance in episode 2, please enjoy this!! hoping and praying we get to see a hell of a lot more of him this season <3

Series Masterlist.

Masterlist. Requests.

You’re bored.

To the outside eye, life as a Roy is a dream. Money, cars, designer clothes, big fancy galas filled to the brim with millionaires. It sounds ideal.

It isn’t. Between family drama, backstabbing and betrayal, and directionless small talk, being the youngest Roy sibling is a stifling job. But someone has to do it. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Tonight, you find yourself at another Waystar Royco charity gala. The ballroom downtown sparkles with diamonds, champagne flowing and expensive perfume overwhelming. It’s another mandatory job on your list. Attend, smile, wave, make polite conversation, rinse rich men for their money and leave. Simple.

Or so you thought.

You arrived with Roman and Kendall, the both of them immediately separating and making their way to friends and business partners, leaving you stood alone. Fingertips brush the skin of your back that’s exposed by your dress, sending a shiver down your spine.

You smell him before he enters your eyeline. He smells like vanilla and sandalwood. He smells expensive. Not the faux, gawdy expensive like most men in the room, but genuinely luxurious. His cologne makes you dizzy. You reach out and hold onto the edge of the table in front of you before you lose your balance.

You feel him before you turn around. He’s warm, and broad, and the crisp white material of his dress shirt is pressing into you. You gasp quietly at his boldness, praying that no one sees the youngest Roy so close to a sworn enemy.

Stewy Hosseini.

Kendall’s third oldest friend. Both a rival and an asset to your family. One of the biggest assholes in New York City.

The man you’re hopelessly in love with.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You honestly hadn’t meant for it to go this far.

Originally, it was sex. Brilliant, mind blowing, earth shattering sex.

Until it wasn’t.

Now, it’s late night phone calls and clandestine meetings and holding hands and apartment hunting and kisses on the forehead. Now, it’s real. It’s become something undeniable.

They’d kill you if they knew.

They’d murder you both. You’d be shunned. Stewy would be dropped and cut from Waystar Royco like he never meant anything in the first place. Your inheritance would be taken away, all Roy privileges revoked.

Basically, it’d be hell. So why do you keep finding yourself considering it?

You’ve never been loved like this. So total, so complete, so all consuming. So unconditional. It’s no secret that the Roy siblings are strangers to love. But not anymore.

Now, you know love. You wake up to love and kiss him on the small patch of skin on his cheek where his beard won’t grow. You dance with love in the kitchen, allowing him to spin you around in your socks, catching you when you slip. You see love across the boardroom, communicating with him silently, having full conversations with just your eyes.

They can deny it all they want, but you know the truth. This is what love is supposed to be. They’re scared of it because it’s unfamiliar. It isn’t material. They’re terrified of love because they can’t touch it, or mould it, or manipulate it. They’re petrified.

You ran into love headfirst, unwittingly. Would you have slept with Stewy that night, well over a year ago, if you’d have known this is how it’d turn out? You’re not sure, honestly. But all you know is that no matter what they say when they inevitably find out, none of it matters. Love is real. And it is astounding.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“You with me, sweetheart?” he murmurs into your ear, warm breath raising the hairs on your neck.

“Yeah, baby,” you mutter back, attempting to keep a neutral expression on your face. “I’m here.”

“Where did you go, huh?”

His fingers journey down, brushing over your ass. He gives it a squeeze before stroking it up your hip, resting his hand on your waist.

“Just daydreaming,” you reply.

“About what?” he asks teasingly, caressing your skin in gentle motions. Back, forth. Back, forth. He’s making it hard to concentrate.

“You,” you whisper quietly. He hears you loud and clear. “Always you.”

He wants to kiss you. God, he wants to kiss you. He wants to grab your face and smash his lips to yours, consequences be damned. He wants to pick you up and twirl you around and scream “look at the woman I love!”.

Instead, his fingers tighten on your waist. He looks around carefully before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to the spot just below your ear. Then, he moves to stand in front of you. To anyone else, it looks like two old friends having a conversation.

“You look so fuckin’ beautiful in that dress,” he tells you, his voice laced with sincerity and admiration. His eyes are raking up and down your frame. The heat of his gaze is making you warm.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Hosseini,” you tease. That’s an understatement. His suit fits him like a glove, perfectly tailored to all of his curves. It’s all crisp edges and careful lines. He’s wearing the cufflinks you got him for his birthday, the ones engraved with the both of your initials. The letters are small, tucked away on the underside. No one knows they’re there – your little secret.

Stewy winks at you and goes to take a step forward, but a hand on his arm stops him. A gorgeous woman with flowing brown hair and a silk gown appears at his side, smiling at you politely before turning to him.

“There’s a couple of guys over there asking where you are. They want to talk about the Williams deal.”

He gives you a look drenched in apology before allowing himself to be dragged away. He takes all of the warmth with him, leaving you stood in the ballroom, cold and alone.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You knew he was bringing a date. It’d been a point of discussion the night before.

“We have to keep up appearances, Stewy. It makes sense. I know it doesn’t mean anything, okay. I’m not worried,” you reassure him, carding your hands through his hair. He’s lying with his head in your lap on his couch, eyes closed and brows scrunched. You smooth your thumb over the crease in his forehead, before kissing the spot gently.

“I know. Fuck, I know,” he sighs defeatedly. The idea of having some random supermodel on his arm at the gala is killing him. What he wouldn’t do for it to be you.

“It’s only one night, baby,” you soothe gently. “I’ll come back here afterwards. It’ll be a couple of hours at most. You know people are going to talk if Stewy Hosseini, the most eligible bachelor of New York, turns up without a date.”

He chuckles heartily, and the vibrations settle in your bones.

“One night,” he agrees. “Just one night.”

With that, he sits up, cradling your face in his hands. He kisses you softly, carefully. He’s so tender with you. No one else in the world gets to see him like this. No one else gets to see him vulnerable. He likes it that way. You do too.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

There’s a pull between you and Stewy. It’s like a magnetic force, dragging you together no matter where you are, or what you’re doing. You feel it in the monotonous board meetings. You feel it at the family events he’s reluctantly invited to by Kendall. You feel it now, as you float around the ballroom, praying for the night to be over.

You allow your mind to drift away, dreaming of what awaits you later tonight. You can picture it perfectly. You and Stewy, curled up in bed, his penthouse bedroom illuminated by candlelight. Glasses of wine discarded on the night stand, sheets thrown across the mattress, legs tangled together. Skin pressed to skin, warmth seeping into your bones. Gentle melodies filling the room, the man underneath you humming softly into your ear. This is heaven, you’ll think. Bury us like this, please.

You can feel when his eyes are on you. Heat prickles over your skin, goosebumps rising. It’s become like a sixth sense, this silent communication between you. You catch his gaze and wink, and you swear you see him blush slightly. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and nods in the direction of the door. You get the hint, and follow him, trailingly behind subtly.

You reach the hallway and look around, but Stewy is nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, you feel a warm grip grab your hips, pressing you into the wall.

“Been waiting to get my hands on you all night,” he murmurs into your ear lowly.

He’s trailing his fingers up and down your sides. You can feel him, hot and hard behind you, groaning as he bites at your throat. He kisses the hinge of your jaw, and then your cheek. It’s forbidden and it’s sexy and it’s so gentle it makes your knees wobble.

“Come home with me,” he begs. “Let’s blow this off and get out of here.”

The offer is tempting. So, so tempting. But you know people would put the pieces together. Stewy leaves, you leave… suspicions arise. As easy as it would be to just say fuck it and tell everyone, you want to keep this a secret for a little longer. You want to stay in this little bubble of warmth and love and trust a little longer. You want to stay happy a little longer.

“We can’t,” you whine. “They’ll notice.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” he replies. “You shouldn’t either.”

You want to disagree, but the way he’s moved his hand to sit at your throat while pressing himself into you is making it hard to think.

“Live a little, baby,” he teases, nipping at your ear.

“Fine! Fuck, fine. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

He grabs your hand, giddy smile etched on his face. He’s practically running with you to his car, dress flowing in the breeze behind you, heels clacking against the marble floors. You tumble into the backseats, his lips pressed to yours as you make your way home. Home.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your eyes blink open, sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains. You’re resting comfortably on Stewy’s chest, both of his strong arms wrapped around you. You yawn sleepily, wondering what’s awoken you.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Oh. That. You check the clock on the nightstand, realising that it’s only 7am. On a Saturday. Who’s knocking on the door at 7am on a Saturday morning?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Fuck, is the noise getting louder? You nudge Stewy carefully, waking him.

“There’s someone banging on your door,” you whisper.

He groans and untangles his legs from yours. He throws on a pair of boxers, and moves to investigate the source of the knocking. You listen intently, curious to know who’s trying to gain Stewy’s attention so determinedly.

The door swings open.

“Ken?” Stewy questions, and you can almost hear the fear in his voice.

“Hey, man. Where the fuck is my sister?”

[givemeureyes]

hey guys i miss succession

[wambsgansshoelaces]

heyy love, i love your fics so muchhh!! if ur requests are open, i was wondering if you could write this fun lil oneshot i thought of<3

(didn't really think much of the details but i imagined something like the episode with the pierce family, or u could change to what feels nice to u)

reader is like super hot/crazy attractive and the siblings are instantly interested. kendall and roman, being their idiot selves, start competing for her attention and trying to get her to accept going out etc. turns out, at the end of the day, shiv gets the girl, as she was the one reader wanted all along (gagged them)

Girls Get Girls

Siobhan Roy x fem!Reader

not gonna lie anon I feel like I didn’t do this too well so I’m so so sorry :( I still hope you enjoy even though I don’t really deliver x

btw I literally love you anon keep requesting

im so gay

Word Count: 2.893k

Mergers, acquisitions, stock, trade, liquidation. You couldn’t give a shit about any of it.

You’re not in the financial field at all, much to your parents’ disappointment. It’d brought you out of favor with them, brought your siblings closer to each other.

You usually don’t come to these things, but tonight it talk of selling the entire company. Leaving it all behind, cashing in the lotto, and fucking off. Your family had convinced you to come- despite your clear dislike for everything finance and business, you still hold stock and stake in the company. You were also going to get a pretty penny from your inheritance, so it would be wise to judge your potential buyer alongside your family.

You’re getting ready in your childhood bedroom, pacing the carpet as you put the finishing touches on your outfit. Your father had made it very clear: your job was to root out intention, then act accordingly. Regardless of whether you thought the Roys were worthy of the company or not is irrelevant at this moment. You need to be intimidating.

Intimidating, but also hot. Just for yourself.

A soft knock sounds at your door. “It’s me,” your cousin calls from the hall.

“Come in,” you call back.

She waltzes in, her blouse billowing behind her as she deposits herself on your bed. “Dad’s going to have an aneurysm.”

Even though you already know the answer, you ask, “Why?” You lean against your desk, facing her.

She snorts, knowing you’re trying to push her buttons. “He wants the company, dipshit. I still think all if this is to get on our nerves.”

“A chimp would do better as CEO than any of you,” you say, scoffing. What had started out as what you thought was joking was turning into something else.

“So why won’t you do it, then?” she asks, bitterly. “I don’t see why it has to be either you or someone out of the family entirely.”

“I’m not doing it because I don’t want to. My siblings also just… have no interest. We’re all off to bigger, better things.”

The two of you stare at each other until your father’s yelling draws you both from your trance.

“Up and at ’em,” he’s saying, pretty much to himself, once you’re downstairs. You brush imaginary dust from your sleeves as you make the awkward walk to the helipad. You and your brother share an exasperated look. Despite the fact that you’d been wedged apart over the years, you and your siblings share a lot of the same views and opinions.

“All this peacocking is fucking insane,” he mutters to you once you’re stopped a safe distance away from the pad.

“Just wait until you see them,” you mutter back.

Even though you weren’t involved in the business side of the company, you’d still been involved. You’d gone to dinners, conferences, galas. You were a bit of an outside source, as you held no real position in the company, but you knew you were vital.

At almost every event where someone with your last name was required to attend, there was also a Roy. You’d only ever seen them, never spoken to them

You hear the helicopter before you see it. Sunglasses perched on your nose, you look up. As it descends, your hair and jacket are blown vigorously back, and your hand goes to your scalp. The generated wind is aggressive, slicing over your skin, your clothing. The sound is now deafening, and you notice your sister clamping her hands over her ears. Your father gives her a look, something along the lines of don’t look weak, and your sister rolls her eyes in response, mouthing fuck you.

You have to suppress your smile. The helicopter’s landed, and people are starting to pile out.

“Logan, old friend,” your dad bellows jovially. While the two families had never met, never been close, you know your father and Logan Roy were actually the best of friends. You don’t know how they met. Your father spoke of Logan from as far back as undergrad university.

Your father steps forward, meeting Logan halfway as he leads the rest of his family towards yours. They envelope each other in a hug, and your brother snorts. He’s the only one who’s ever interacted with the Roys.

“It’s like he has a multiple personality disorder,” he’d told you the other day, talking about the enigma that was the head of the other family. “One second he’s laughing, then the minute Dad’s out the room, the guy’s raging over his kids or the people not doing enough work or whatever the fuck else is wrong with that stupid fucking company.”

He turns from your father to your mother, murmuring a warm greeting, then to the row of you, your sister, and your brother.

“Oh, look at the three of you! All grown and radiant,” he says heartily. So far, he doesn’t seem like the demon your younger brother had described him to be. But you know well enough that looks can be deceiving. He opens his arms out to you first, since you’re the eldest of the three. You give him an awkward hug, his hand clapping over your back in a friendly manner. “If only any of my children had the sense to get with you,” he mutters conspiratorially, earning a chuckle from you. He pats your shoulder, before moving on to your brother.

Logan’s wife is next. “Marcia,” she murmurs softly to you, taking you by the shoulders and air-kissing both your cheeks. You return the gesture as she does it, making sure to stay smiling. It’s all a flurry of names you’re sure you’re going to forget the second you need them. Connor, Gerri, Willa, Frank, Rhea. It’s really all just a bunch of letters bouncing around in your head.

Who you’re sure you will remember, though, are the siblings. The younger three. The important ones, your dad liked to call them.

As all of the ‘adults’ convened to chat amongst themselves, like they did when you were children, you and your sister are having a quiet conversation about your work. She’s in the middle of asking you to come out to her office to help you with something when you feel a hand settle on your shoulder. You turn, coming eye to eye with Kendall Roy.

“Hi,” he says carefully, small smile playing on his lips. “I don’t think we’ve met?”

“No, we haven’t,” you say back. “Y/N.” You offer him your hand to shake, like your father expects you to do with everyone.

“Kendall.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say awkwardly. He manages a laugh, withdrawing his hand, his eyes flitting over your face.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, then, to, uh, put your name to your face.”

You’re not really sure what he means, but you don’t think you care that much.

“Move over, Kendall, you’re boring the shit out of her.” His brother comes over, bumping him with his hip. You have to stifle a laugh. “Roman.” You shake hands, offering him a polite smile. “He’s right, though. You’re a bit of a mystery to everyone.”

“Am I?” you ask, laughter seeping into your voice.

“Not to me.” Her voice is firm, clear. “I’m Shiv. I was at the conference you gave the Ethics presentation to. I know your work. My brothers are just stupid.”

You laugh for real this time. “Nice to meet you, Shiv. I’m familiar with your work, too. I’m just not so deep into the political sphere like you are.”

“I can help with that, you know,” she says, expression surprisingly soft. “I’ve been looking for someone that shares my opinions and… moral compass to work with. You need your rock, you know?”

The conglomerate of people slowly transitions inside. Roman and Kendall get roped into other conversations, your sister disappearing off to who knows where. You mill about in the dimly lit sitting room, watching everyone interact. Shiv’s still by your side.

“No offense, but I hate these things,” she says quietly, coming closer to you so you can hear.

You laugh lightly. “None taken.” You glance over at her to find that her eyes are already glued to you. You feel your face heat, her gaze flickering down your body before coming back up to your face. She has a sly smile on, but it’s quickly melting into one of real, soft emotion. You open your mouth to offer her something you’ll probably regret later, but are interrupted by your father clapping his hands together and waving everyone into the dining room. Instead, you give her an exasperated smile and follow the crowd.

Your father eyes you and your siblings as you all slip into your strategically chosen seats, making it so you’d all be surrounded by Roys. Your brother makes a face at you from the other side of the table. You ignore him, instead looking up at Shiv, who hovers by the chair at your left hand.

Almost shyly, she asks, “May I?”

“Please.”

A giddy smile spreads across her face as she sits, and you can’t help but mirror her expression. You look down into your plate, catching your sister’s gaze on you. Kendall takes the seat on your other side, Logan sitting directly across from you, right by your dad.

Roman and your brother are laughing over something as you get served the appetizer, your sister staring off into space while Connor talks at her rather than to her. Your mother speaks quietly with Marcia, and of course, your father and Logan are the loudest at the table, laughing and gesturing around.

Your cousin is on Kendall’s other side, overly-focused on her food. The conversation suddenly involves the entire table, Logan leaving forward. “What is it you do again, Y/N?”

You shrug lightly. “I work in media and risk analysis. Dabble a bit in economics.”

“So like Shiv?”

“Not really,” you and her say at the same time. You gesture with your fork, letting her continue.

“Our work certainly overlaps, and I’m glad it does,” she says, “but I’m more… political, she’s more… corporate.”

“If you dabbled in economics,” your cousin manages through gritted teeth, “we wouldn’t be here.”

“Neither would we if you did,” you retort calmly.

She scoffs. “I still don’t see why all of this is happening,” she says back, barely loud enough for everyone to hear. You look to your father, praying he’ll deal with it himself before she goes on some tirade, scaring off the buyer, but he makes no move. He simply glances at you, his gaze loaded.

Do it yourself.

You wait for a few moments, letting the tension strain the room. Maybe she’ll back off.

She doesn’t.

“The company is leaving family hands because of you, Y/N. It’s going to crash and burn because you refuse to fucking see what’s sitting in front of you.”

Logan’s lips press together into a thin line, and you know you have to recover. “I don’t want the company. Neither of my siblings want it. Don’t you think it’s a little telling you’re the only one lusting after it so loudly?”

“I don’t see what that has to say about me.”

“You want it, and you’re not getting it,” you say firmly. “You’re incompetent. The Roy name is not.”

Dinner is only silent for so much longer. Your brother, at his breaking point, asks loudly, “Why are you even here? You blew the Pierce deal. Fuck off.” Your father hisses something into your brother’s ear. He scoffs in response. “I’m sick of it, Dad. The three of us bust our asses to get this to go well for you and she gets to waltz in, do whatever the fuck she wants whenever the fuck she wants.” He quickly pushes back his chair from the table and makes his way out of the dining room.

Clearly, this is deeper than one stupid comment made at the dinner table. You throw a questioning glance at your sister. She gives a minute shake of her head. She doesn’t know.

Dramatically, your cousin follows your brother out. Roman is trying not to laugh, and all of a sudden, your father and Logan aren’t in the mood they were before.

You turn to Shiv, exasperated. She’s also stuffing a laugh down, and it’s contagious. “Is my juvenile family drama amusing to you?” you murmur to her questioningly, the soft clink of silverware and terse chatter filling the room.

“Yeah,” she says, nearly choking on a laugh. “This is so fucking stupid. How do you deal with it?”

“I never stay home.” You down the rest of the water in your glass.

“Hey, uh, Y/N,” Kendall begins, leaning towards you as you turn to face him. “I just wanted to say, I get how it feels.” He gestures vaguely around. “So if you want to, um, get some air after, I’d love to join you.”

You thank him sincerely, giving him a soft smile. Dessert finally comes out. You’re almost there. You turn back to Shiv, but she’s conversing with whoever’s on her other side, to your disappointment. You eat your cheesecake in silence, Roman catching your eye and giving you a wink. You didn’t know people actually did that, but he pulled it off nicely, you think.

When your father finally gets up, ushering everyone into the sitting room for drinks and chatter, you heave a sigh of relief. You trail behind the crowd, hoping to be able to slip away on your own.

You succeed. You sigh up at the high vaulted ceiling, padding towards the grand staircase up to your room.

“Hey, where’re you going?” comes a soft voice. You turn, Shiv, hurrying after you.

“Escaping,” you say jokingly, pausing on the stairs, letting her catch up to you.

“Can I come?”

“Yeah. You can.”

The sight of her sitting cross-legged on your bed does something to you. It sucks all the air from your body. But maybe that was just the sight of her.

"Your brother okay?" she asks, looking up at you.

"He'll be fine. Everyone's just a bit tense."

"Just so you know, your cousin's temper tantrum doesn't change anything."

"I'd hope it didn't."

"What would change things though," she tells you, "is whether you want to come on once we buy the company."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I was serious when I was talking about how I need someone in my corner."

"What do you mean?"

"It's me. The company gets handed to me."

"Congratulations, Shiv. But really, I want nothing to do with it."

"I'd be running things. You'd just be my right hand woman. The very attractive right hand woman that I see every day."

You laugh, unable to suppress the grin splitting your face.

“My cousin’ll murder me,” you manage to say.

“So? Let her try. Not like you’ll go down or anything.” She smiles up at you. “I think that’s hot. You’re hot.”

Silence stretches between the two of you, both of you grinning at each other.

“You’re really pretty,” you breathe, believing she followed you for a reason.

“I’m glad you think so.” Her hands come to cup your jaw in the few instances it takes you to cross the room, slide onto your bed, and kiss her. “God, you’re so… so fucking gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” you ask against her lips, peppering gentle kisses onto them. “Stay the night.”

“I told everyone I went home,” she says, giggling.

Your hand flits to her hip, rubbing soothingly. Your kisses are slow, tender. You’re both enjoying yourselves. It feels so real. It feels like something more.

You slide off of her, off the bed, eliciting a whine from her pretty mouth. “Just locking the door, baby.”

You wake up, head buried in her chest. She’d borrowed some pajamas of yours, the shirt a soft cotton. Her breathing is light and airy, and it’s music to your ears. Her fingers are threaded in the hair at your scalp, her arm thrown over your back.

You drift in and out of consciousness until she wakes up, pressing kisses along your forehead. Shiv sits up, letting you stay settled in her lap. You press a hot kiss to her bare thigh, shorts hiked up her legs.

“You know,” she says, after a short while of silence, “Ken and Roman were drooling over you all night.”

You snort. “Were they?”

“I know them. They were. And here I am,” she says, satisfied with herself.

You let out an airy laugh. “Here you are.”

“I was drooling, too,” she admits.

“Can we stop talking about saliva?”

She pinches your ass, to which you don’t dignify with a reaction, instead smiling into her thigh. “I wanna keep seeing you.”

“I have to fly out to Italy for some work. Maybe I want you to come with me.”

“God, I love women.” Her hand cards through your hair. “Mind if I take a picture? I want to send it to my brothers.”

“Perv,” you mutter, but nod anyway. You smile at the camera from her thigh, pressing a searing kiss to the place where her leg meets her hip the moment she hits the button.

It captures her beautiful face in an ecstatic smile, yours in soft affection as you look up at her, not the camera.