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dorims · 2 months

Text

last christmas (i gave you my heart).

gif creds @/fightingdragonswithwho

pairing. roman roy x reader

wc. 1.6k

genre. fluff

Spending every holiday under Logan Roy’s roof wasn’t necessarily a problem. But just like any other family gathering, the pot tended to be stirred until have a holly jolly Christmas sounded either like a call for help or the theme song from the Saw franchise. for a change, maybe spending christmas away from his family would do him good. you can only hope he agrees.

tags. NOT beta-ed(?), english isn't my first language // established relationship (fiancee/married, i havent decided yet lol), brief mention of alcohol, allusion to roy family dynamics, roman and reader are the only characters in this one

a/n. idc that its march and the fact im not big on christmas either, this one really fun to write! hope you enjoy

“So,” You test the waters, lathering the bristles of your toothbrush with the bubblegum toothpaste in the process. In tune with the routine you had wordlessly established, you locked eyes with him through the mirror. Not before letting your eyes roam over his relaxed figure of course. Surprisingly intimate, you would describe the way he liked to watch you while you finished your nightly routine. He would look so painfully comfortable, maybe even serene, as he let his body rest against the doorframe as his eyes lidded with perpetual fatigue, took in the mundanity of watching you lather your face with creams and face wash.“I’ve been thinking.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, though it sounded more like a stifled laugh. “That's new, how's that going for you?"

“Funny.” The foam in your mouth was of no help at conveying the faux annoyance, balancing out the deadpan you sported with a dose of conveniently muffled speech. Not intimidating at all, it only caused his grin to grow wider. And contagious as always, you leaned over the sink to spit the toothpaste in an attempt to hide a smile of your own, though the thick layer of adoration in your eyes gave it away.

“I’m just saying,” he raised his hands in mock surrender, finally walking inside to lean against the marble counter right next to you. “I only wanna know how it feels to lose your, you know, thinking virginity after giving no signs of brain activity for how long? Like—“

“You can tell yourself how it feels when you lose it.”

“Oh you want to fuck my brain so bad—“

“I’ve been thinking,” You cut him off with an amused smile, taking him in once more. Big round eyes shone with mischief along a hint of sheepishness as he noticed you looking at him. Really looking at him under the vanity lights with messy hair from running his hands through the strands all day and finally wearing the matching pajamas set you had gotten for him in a pretty navy blue because wearing a matching set made you feel good and you wanted him to feel the same way. Always.

“You've been thinking…” he rolled his eyes as if to hold back another quip now that you had restarted the conversation. The pinkish hue you were so familiar with made a small appearance as you let your fingers brush over his, gently coaxing him to intertwine his hands with yours. Not that he needed much convincing, though.

“We should spend Christmas this year with my family.”

At the beginning of your relationship, you were sure he would’ve pulled his hand out of your grasp. You could see the way he had to swallow down the urge to do so from the pensive furrow of his brows while the side of his brain in charge of his critical thinking tried to convince him that your words weren’t an attack on his family. He was still working on it, the lousy therapy sessions here and there helped a little, but he still found himself opening his mouth to complain.

“I know what you’re gonna say but think about it, Romeo.” Thankfully, you took the steering wheel before he could start. “My family loves you and we haven’t spent Christmas with them in like, ever, actually.”

Which wasn’t his fault, and you made sure to tell him so, leaning closer until your knee touched his and giving him a quick peck on his lips before he could protest.

Spending every holiday under Logan Roy’s roof wasn’t necessarily a problem. It was nice to exist alongside the people that Roman loves, the people he grew up around. Watching him interact with his siblings could be endearing. So much so that sometimes you wished you could record their banter and laughter so he could listen back and for a moment picture that things between them were okay. But just like any other family gathering, the pot tended to be stirred until have a holly jolly Christmas sounded either like a call for help or the theme song from the Saw franchise.

“Every year we celebrate in a different place,” you toyed with the idea in front of his eyes like one would a cat’s toy, using your smile to build momentum to the grand reveal that at this point didn’t even sound grand to you. “last Christmas was Italy and this year we’re doing Greece.”

“Since when do you have a house in Greece?” He asked, toying with your fingers as his gaze locked itself on them. It was a good sign he was asking.

“We don’t,” the sound of your animated chuckle helped to loosen his shoulders. Though it didn’t dissipate his slight confusion, it always felt good to have you close like this. “It’s Kelly’s house— eh, her parents’ but sharing is caring or whatever…”

He let out a chuckle of his own. The sound made all sorts of warmth bloom in your chest, maybe even cute aggression if you felt like being dramatic.

“And after we can spend New Year's just the two of us wherever you want.” He shrugged in a silent response, still pensive, and you couldn’t help but coo at him as if to coax him out of his shell. “It’s gonna be so much fun, they’ve been asking about us and the kids adore you, they’ve been obsessed with Uncle Roro ever since Lizzie’s birthday.”

“As they should be, my lower back never recovered from being used as a human jungle gym.” He rolled his eyes at the memory yet the love was evident from behind the thinly veiled sarcasm. He was a very particular individual but so were most of your siblings-in-law. And sure, the first time he met your family hadn’t gone as he expected, both in a good way and in a bad way, but your mother still asked him to join him for a glass of whiskey whenever they crossed paths with a welcoming smile and your father always hugged him in greeting like he did all his children.

“You’re good with them,” You smiled against his lips as you leaned closer for a kiss, leaving a couple of pecks that eventually made him smile too. “you’ve always been good with kids.”

“Yeah whatever, stop kissing me my breath stinks.”

The way your brothers had instantly included him in their weird boys' night out, which was ruled by the obnoxiously corny motto ‘what happens in boys' night, stays in boy’s night’ that was used as a smoke screen for that one time they decided to go to the spa to never be taken seriously again once they swallowed their own stupidity, left you grinning for a week straight. And let's not start with the picture you had taken during a summer trip to Nice of all the daughters-in-law posing like they were celebrating their high school prom with Roman at the front of the line, it had been all laughter all throughout; the picture came out a little blurry.

It’s all you could think about sometimes when you watched him doing nothing interesting in particular with a lovesick intensity only rivaled by his. How well he fits in your life, with the quips and interjections that kept you company and next to you on your shared bed. With both your slippers sitting neatly side by side and with the unmeasurable love pooling at the bottom of his chest that he had finally allowed himself to unabashedly share after who knows how long.

“Can you pass me your headband? I need to wash my face.”

He insisted yours was better every time you told him he should buy one of his own. Even if he hadn’t tried any other than yours. You only let it pass because he looked cute with his hair pushed back. No other reason at all.

“So,” you cut yourself by giving him a peck on the lips as he got closer to steal some face wash. He had his own on his side of the bathroom but the bottle was pretty much full and yours still ran out quicker than when it was just you. “Greece or no Greece?”

“I got chills, they’re multiplying.” He joked right before rinsing the soap from his face, chuckling at your lack of amusement. “What? You prefer right now there’s nowhere to hide since you pushed my love aside?”

“I prefer you answer my question.”

The eyes of a kicked puppy on full display just put him out of his misery vibes, pleaded in silence as he dragged his feet across the floor until he was standing right in between your legs, his face hiding in the crook of your neck. He fit nicely against your body and instinctively you let your fingers brush along the strands of his hair. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go.”

He groaned in response, his voice muffled against your skin. “It’s not that, I want to, I just— I already RSVP or whatever bullshit to my Dad.”

No one RSVP’ed to Logan Roy. Especially not his children. It wasn’t necessary when the table was already set for all parties involved regardless of conflicting schedules

“That’s okay,” You kiss his hair, resting your cheek against his head and muffling your own voice. The vibrations made him hum. “I can talk to him.”

The disheveled strands tickled your skin as he shook his head. Now that his chin was resting on your chest you noticed how cartoonishly slow he was blinking, his lids heavy the weight of being awake for far too long.

“I’ll talk to him.” He pressed a kiss against the side of your jaw, feeling the unmistakable excitement of your grin, before hiding the yawn that followed. “Tomorrow, I promise.

#roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #roman roy fluff #roman roy #succession fan fiction #roman roy imagine #succession imagine

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sillylittlestoryblog · 1 year

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Meet cute

Greg Hirsch x Reader

Warnings: its cheesy romcom stuff, english isnt my first language, this isnt canon to succession at all, might be somewhere season one but shiv is working at waystar, use of y/n

Fluff nothing more.

Summary: Reader is Shivs assistant and has to bring some secret documents to Toms new assistant. He is your bosses cousin and has been working at waystar only for a few weeks. You are more than curious to meet him.

Notes: i loveeee succession and i love Cousin Greg the egg. I am not ready for it all to end. And damn the last episode is gonna air one day before my birthday. Another reason to cry at my birthday…it happens every year. Also none of my friends are into succession ( such bad friends ) so if you want to be my succession bestie pls dm me. Thx for reading this. And if you like it, just so you know, comments are like long hugs to writers :)

A loud knock on your office door interrupted your work. For hours you sat on the same boring documents and your head was literally glowing. The day had not started very well. After you arrived late at the trainstation and had missed your train, you felt you already knew that today would be awful. As you walked out into the New York winter air with cold ears, you almost collided with someone else. Why didn't this giant pay more attention to where he was going?

At Starbucks you quickly bought an overpriced coffee and two bagels. One for you and one for your boss. You had overslept and didn't really have time for breakfast and even though you were actually quite good at your job, you could get fired at any time. Waystar was not known for treating its employees well. The longer you worked there the more you hated the company. But you couldn't just quit. You have to pay rent and have enough money to keep you and your two cats alive. You needed that job. That means, that it happened more than often that you had to skip eating or sleeping. The main thing is that your boss has her hot coffee and snacks on her expensive coffee table every morning. And you need to do your job as her assistant perfectly, without ever being late.

But most mornings she wasn't even in the office. you could only wonder what happened to the cold coffee.

About four hours after you ran sweaty and red-headed to your little office to spend the next few hours in front of your computer, there was a loud knock on the door.

"Heyy, Good Morning Y/N. Nice to see you. Can you please bring these to my husband on the other floor. I have a meeting now. See you.“

And away she went again. Shiv Roy had handed you a pack of documents, at least thats what you thought it was. You read the word confidential printed on the envelope in red color. Even tho you were in the middle of something, you decided to take a break and bring that envelope to Shivs husband.

You weren't sure where it suddenly came from, but on the way to the elevator you got a little nervous. Not only because of Shiv's somewhat strange husband. Tom Wabsgans had given you the ick from the beginning. He was tall and rich, like almost every other man who worked here. And yes money can make people a bit peculiar. But Tom... he was on another level. You had once heard him yell at a co-worker for "breathing too loudly". Also, there were rumors going around that he offered to give some employees a fortune, if they would be his "human furniture" for a week. If anyone in this building would claim that Tom had a piece of meat cut out of his own body to eat as a steak, no one would be surprised. You least of all. He gave you a strange feeling every time. But your nervousness came from something else.

The day before, Inej, one of your best friends who used the office next to yours, had whispered to you at lunch that she had seen tom's new assistant. She had grinned and said:

"so if I wasn't already in a happy committed relationship with this awesome guy, I would have given him my number for sure. Fuck Y/N, he's really cute."

Since this talk you had caught yourself wanting to know more about this guy. Because cute wasnt how you would describe most guys who worked for Logan Roy. Most of them where sleazy, moneyhungry guys with big watches and tailored suits. They catcalled all the women who worked with you, honestly you hated their guts.

Inej had sent you a message the night before. She'd heard from two of Tom's coworkers that the assistant was probably part of the Roy family. A cousin or nephew or something. If this rumor was true, then it was definitely the hottest gossip in ages.

The elevator ride didn't take long and with the envelope in your hand you walked confidently towards Tom's office. You had already raised your hand to knock on his office.

But it should not come so far, from the side came a great force that almost made you fall. But before you could curse again the shitty "all women must wear high heels rule" and hit the floor, someone held you by your waist.

"Oh god sorry. Uh. I'm really sorry about that."

You had no idea how you could have almost been knocked over for the second time today. You were kinda getting angry. Why was this day so awful.

"oh fuck, can't you be more careful?!"

When you turned to the side you almost regretted your loud harsh tone.

In front of you stood a tall guy, brown hair, crooked tie and an apologetic and quiet adorable puppy look on his face.

„So, uh, i m sorry. Truly? uh…Truliest.“

You didnt really know how to respond. Damn that guy is tall.

„Wait, uh, are you Y/N? You know because i, uh , i didnt stalk you or something, i saw you on a photo, this coworker, uh, i think her name was Inej, she showed me a picture, like of you guys, and - well i just assumed that might be, uh, you? And i…“

„What?“

„I am Greg, i uh work for Tom, and yeah so yesterday- i talked to this wom…“

„No i get that part. You really need to look where you are going…Greg.“

You were putting on a little smile. Inej was right, he was cute, and apparently also very clumsy. And nervous?

Greg was tucking his hair behind his ear. He didnt looked that shocked anymore. A small smile creeping on his face.

Damn. You really liked that face.

„I am really sorry, Y/N. I kinda, uh, feel like i owe you something?“

You were blushing. Nervously you looked down. He is so tall he probably can’t see the blushing like that.

„Would you maybe give this to Tom?- its from Shiv. And probably important.“

You handed him the envelope. You could have sworn your hands touched. You felt like cringing. This feels like you are in a stupid romcom. Stop blushing and smiling this isnt pride and prejudice.

If you hadn’t looked down while being flustered, you could have witnessed Greg’s cheeks turning a little red too.

Nervously he gave you a thumbs up.

„ sure. Uh - and, eh, maybe i could buy you something for lunch? I don’t know… there is this really cool pizza place i always wanted to go, i … sorry, maybe you don’t even like pizza. Eh i just thought we could maybe go there? And i would pay - obviously. -Not because i am a man or something, uh like i am a feminist and i believe you could pay for yourself, but, uh i you know almost knocked you over because i didnt look where i was going…“

His nervous rambling continued. Your little smirk turned into a genuin smile.

„Hey Greg.“

„Uh yeah?“

„I would love that.“

On the way back to your office, you forgot how horrible this day started. With a smile on your face you pushed the button to go up. Entering the elevator you looked around, he was still standing where you left him. Grinning to himself. You saw him looking back up to search for your face, right when the elevator doors closed in front of you.

#greg hirsch x reader #nicholas braun #nick braun #succession #fanfic writer #gregory hirsch #greg the egg #succession hbo #succession fan fiction #shiv roy #tom wambsgans #fluff #l to the og #greg hirsch #cousin greg #logan roy #ao3 author

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augustghosts · 3 months

Text

Stewy Hosseini x female reader

A classic tale of fucking your ex at your friends wedding. We’ve all been there, I think.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+ pls, minors will be blocked! Not proofread which is defo a warning, lmk if you spot anything ive missed. Smut. Oral f!recieving and protected pinv. Alcohol and drugs are mentioned slightly.

Little authors note sorry: Hey everyone i am actually alive lol. 5 months later i return writing for someone new… not out of character for me. I watched succession for the first time recently (late asf to the party i know) and i read some amazing stewy fics so i thought i’d add my piece because i’m obsessed with him. Sorry to all my tommy miller babes on here, i swear i tried writing for him again but my inspiration for tommy fics seems to have gotten lost. I really struggled when i tried finishing my half way done tommy series lol. But when i started writing this one it just floooowed and i finished it in like a few hours. Maybe my tommy love will come back someday but for now…. This. Hope someone out there enjoys lol <3

You’ve felt eyes on you all night. Everywhere you go you end up meeting his eyes across the room. Eveytime you look over at him, he’s already looking. He should be the one that's embarrassed, you’ve caught him looking at you multiple times, but you’re always the one who ends up looking away first and feeling your skin heat with the embarrassment of being caught. While he shamelessly stares at you over the rim of his glass, that awful fucking smirk gracing his lips and he watches you squirm. Honestly, it’s kinda creepy. And you almost hope he approaches you so you can tell him that.

Towards the end of the night he starts to close in, starts inching closer to you. He starts making conversation with the people around you, people at the bar next to you, and eventually your friends. Asking them how they are, how it’s been such a long time. Then, he finally gets to you. He takes his time looking you over before he speaks and you’re determined not to be the first one to talk, so you let him stare. Both of you standing in silence for a few seconds before he finally speaks.

“You look great.”

”Thanks.” Keeping it simple seems safe. You want to tell him he looks good too because fuck, he does. He always does. He notices your eyes drifting over his suit and tie and he chuckles.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Uhm,” He trails off - pretends to think. “I’m at a fucking wedding, and i’m enjoying myself.”

”Yeah?” You ask, he nods in agreement. The way his eyebrows raise tells you he’s still being sarcastic, still mocking you. “Watching my every move all night is how you enjoy yourself?”

“Actually, yes.” He confirms. “Watching you squirm all night was pretty fun.”

”I wasn’t.” You attempt to defend yourself, downing your drink. “I was just-“

“I’ll get you another.” He cuts you off, snatching your glass out of your hand - not even bothering to ask. You almost try to protest, but you don’t see the point. You know him too well, you know how stubborn he is, once he gets an idea it’s hard for him to let it go. If the idea he’s got tonight is paying for your drinks, then so be it - who were you to complain. You sit down on the stool next to you, watching as Stewy makes the bartender laugh as he orders your drinks. You're kind of pissed that you still can’t figure him out sometimes, you know him better than most people - maybe better than anyone, but he still confuses you. It has been a while since you last saw him, but you conclude that he hasn’t changed much.

When he comes back with your drinks he puts yours down in front of you and asks: “Still your favorite?”

You nod, kind of pissed that he got it right. You try to convince yourself that he didn’t actually remember that small detail. That he’s just been watching you order them all night during your staring competition.

“So, how’s your family?” You ask, cringing at how lame you sound. You just don’t want to let him start a conversation you don’t want to have.

He smiles, because he knows what you're doing. “They’re fine. I still don’t see them much, but they’re good.”

”You’re still too busy to see your family?” You joke.

“Mhm,” His smile almost looks genuine as you joke with each other. “I’m always busy.”

“Busy stealing people's money?”

He laughs then, a genuine laugh that makes you laugh as well. God, you don’t want to admit that you missed him. But everyone else just seems so boring after him, you’ve never found the same thing you’d had with him with anyone else.

“You never really understood business did you?” He laughs.

“I understand perfectly.”

“Sure,” He agrees. “I explained it to you enough times.”

“Yeah, and bored me to death.”

”Is that why you broke up with me?”

His question completely catches you off guard and you almost choke on your drink. You almost want to ask him if he purposefully said that while you were taking a sip, but you’re too busy trying to supress your coughing.

“Jesus, it was just a question.” Stewy laughs at you again, his warm hand coming to rest on your back as he watches you almost choke.

“Fuck you.” You say pointedly, after getting yourself back under control. ”You know why we broke up. Also, I broke up with you?”

”You did.”

“Stewy, it was amicable.”

“Was it?” His face goes serious again and you instantly miss the sound of his laugh. You just sigh, taking another sip of your drink. This was exactly the conversation you didn’t want to have.

“I thought you said you were enjoying yourself,” You say after a few moments of silence. “Don’t ruin it now.”

”I lied.” He says. “I always hated those two, I can't believe they actually got married.”

”Match made in hell.” You agree, both of you laugh softly again.

“You know I also lied earlier when I said you looked great.” He says, surprising you. You brace yourself for whatever joke he’s going to make about you, you shouldn't have pissed him off, he can get mean when he’s pissed off. It’s not his fault, it’s just his defense mechanism - but nevertheless you brace yourself for his comment - and he surprises you again by saying: “You look fucking incredible.”

You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. You opt for another sip of your drink instead and he watches you in amusement.

“I only came because I hoped you would be here,” He continued. You still can’t tell if he’s being serious or not, that damned smirk on his face makes you think he’s making fun of you, but those big brown eyes look so sincere.

“Stewy, stop.” You sigh.

“Come on, baby.” He murmurs, he leans forward in his chair and places his hand on your knee. The nickname makes you tense up. Makes a familiar heat spread through you. “Let me get you another drink and take you up to my room.”

Fuck. He’s fucking good at this, and he knows it. He knows exactly how to get you. You’re trying to think, but the alcohol and the way his thumb is rubbing your knee is clouding your mind. He waits patiently, watching as you look down at his hand and back up to his face. Your eyes stop at his lips before meeting his gaze.

“Alright,” You say, you swear you can actually see his eyes light up. “Go get me another drink and show me your room. Then I'll decide.”

“You got it.” He grins and practically jumps out of his seat. When he returns he holds out his hand to help you off your stool, the heels you decided to wear and the drinks weren’t a good match. He hands you your drink, although you don’t really want it now. His hand finds its place on the small of your back and a fire lights up somewhere inside of you. His touch feels so familiar - comforting. He leads you out of the bar and to the elevators. Punching in the right number before the doors close, leaving you both alone in the small space. It suddenly feels too quiet.

You want to touch him, but once again you don’t want to be the one to make the first move. You don't want him to know how desperate you are for him, although you think he already knows. He’s watching you in silence, his eyes dark and wanting. A look you’ve seen a million times before - a look that makes you excited. The elevator ride is short, Stewy isn’t the type to kiss you in an elevator, and you know that, so you’re not disappointed when the doors open and he hasn’t touched you or said a word.

He gestures for you to leave first, putting his hand on the door so they don’t close on you, or him. Some people would find this strange, the silence, but it’s a game you’ve both played with each other before. A game you both enjoy. He guides you to his room with a hand on your back, just like before. When he unlocks the door and opens it for you, you suppress a gasp. As usual, Stewy needs to have the best of the best. The bride and groom's room probably isn’t even this nice. They probably couldn’t afford it - Stewy can.

“Well?” His voice sounds from behind you.

“Hm?”

”What do you think? You said you would decide when you saw the room. Is it good enough for you?”

”Uhm,” You pretend to think as you set your drink down on the dresser, turning around to dramatically inspect the room. It earns a playful eye roll from Stewy. He knows what impresses you and he knows he already has you. He already had you down at the bar.

“I think it’s okay.” You conclude, turning to face him. He hums in sarcastic agreement, looking you up and down. He’s playing the game again, who is going to end it first. Who is going to lose. You don’t like losing, and neither does he. But honestly, haven’t you already lost? He has you in his room for christ sake. He has you standing in front of him, already dripping and all he’s done is touch your leg a little and look at you the right way. So you put aside your pride and step towards him, you bring your hands up to his cheeks and roughly bring his face down to your, finally connecting your lips.

His hands immediately find their home at your hips, pulling you tightly against him. The kiss immediately turns from an innocent kiss to a hungry and passionate one, his tongue dominating your mouth. You both know each other's bodies so well, there's no need for taking it slow or asking questions.

“Fuck, Stewy.” You sigh as he backs you towards the bed, gently setting you down and climbing over you. Kissing every inch of your skin.

“God, I missed that.” He groans, marveling over the way you sigh his name. “I missed you, baby. I can admit it. I want you so badly.”

You moan softly at his words, at the way his lips feel on your neck - at how right this feels. You had missed him too. He catches you off guard when he pulls away to ask, ”Have you been fucking other people?”

“Sorry?” You giggle, “Why are you asking me that now?”

”Have you?” He presses.

“I ju- maybe.” You stutter, already missing his lips.

”Maybe?”

”I know you’ve been fucking as well.” You accuse, suddenly defensive. You push yourself up onto your elbows, despite still being trapped underneath him.

“Yeah, I have.” He says coolly.

“So?” You ask, irritated. Why was he doing this?

“So, none of them were as good as you.” His words earn an eye roll from you. “Nothing can compare to this pussy.” He adds, his hand sliding down to roughly grip your thigh and bring it over his waist. Oh, shit. His half hard cock is pressing perfectly against your pussy in this new position, the material of your dress and his suit pants keeping you apart. “And, i bet none of those guys fucked you the way i do.” One of his hands comes up to grip your chin, his other keeping him above you. He forces you to look him in the eyes as he asks, “Did they?”

“No.” You practically squeak. “None of them were like you. No one is like you, Stewy.”

You’re not even lying, after having sex with Stewy for so long nothing compared. You had gotten accustomed to a man who knew what he was doing, to a man who was generous in bed. You had gotten used to a man who could make you cum. No one had achieved that after him. Your answer obviously pleases him, he grins and leans down to kiss you again.

He ends the kiss and stands up leaving you spread out on the bed, you whine underneath him, chasing for more. He ignores you and slips off his suit jacket. He makes a show of undoing the top button of his shirt and loosening his sleeves in order to push them up to his elbows. Fuck, he looks so good. You almost want to tell him, but you don;t need to. He can see the way you're watching him, that look in your eye. He knows what you look like when you’re turned on - and this is it. He grabs your thighs and pushes your dress up to your waist, getting a good look before sliding your panties down your legs, throwing them over his shoulder somewhere.

“I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve, baby. I know what you need. I can’t wait to taste you.” He rambles as you whimper in anticipation, he presses a kiss to your ankle as he watches you buck your hips.

He has his mouth on you before you can respond. Just as you remember, he is painfully and infuriatingly good at it. He still eats pussy like it's his second nature. He still looks up at you through his gorgeous lashes as he traces your clit with his tongue. He has to hold back from grinning against you as you writhe and whimper. He groans as you sigh his name and run your hand through his hair. You remember how much you love it when he’s like this, when he's animalistic and loses his composure.

Your legs tighten around his head as he digs his fingers into the flesh of your thighs. It’s fucking embarassing how quickly you barrel towards your climax, but it has been a while. And no one else devours you like this, no one else is this good. You should have expected it. He recognizes it immediately, breaking away from you for a second to speak.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?”

“Yes! Please, Stew.” You moan, your hands grabbing at his hair attempting to push him back down. He smiles wickedly, licking his lips as he watches you.

“God, I love it when you beg for me.” He mumbles before diving back in, allowing you to push his head down and maneuver him.

"Please make me come," you groan, arching your back. “I'm so close, don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t stop, he continues to lap at you and work you though your orgasm as you come against his mouth. His beard delightfully scratches your sensitive skin, leaving behind a delicious burning feeling. He’s painfully hard now, after watching you come and hearing you moan his name. You begin to push at his head when you come down, usually he would tease you a little now, knowing how sensitive you are and make the most of it. But he’s so fucking desprate for you, he has been all night. He’s been dreaming about being inside of you for hours now.

He’s instantly on his feet, undoing his belt and undressing. You follow suit, weakly sitting up - doing the best your legs can do when they feel like jelly, you lift your dress over your head and throw it on the floor with his clothes. He’s climbing back on top of you, kissing you hungrily. His lips and chin are still wet with your juices and you moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his lips.

“How do you want me?” You ask breathlessly, fully prepared to submit to him- to do whatever he asks.

“Fuck,” He groans at your words, having to pause for a second. “Can you turn over for me?”

You smile, leaning up to kiss him one more time before turning over and crawling to the middle of the bed, pushing yourself up onto your knees and holding yourself up on your elbows, so your back is deliciously arched the way you know he likes. You grin as you hear him groan behind you, his hand petting your ass before he delivers a light slap to it. He steps away from you and you hear the rustling of a condom wrapper, did he have that in his fucking pocket? His words from earlier repeat in your head, ‘I only came because I hoped you would be here.’

“Plese fuck me, Stewy.” You moan softly, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I need you.”

”How bad?” He teases. The head of his cock is ever so slightly pressing against your entrance, he’s hardly holding back as he waits for your answer, pushing in slightly.

“So bad,” You sigh, pushing back on him so he slips easily inside of you. You both moan loudly, you love that he’s so loud and shameless in bed. He stays still once he’s bottomed out.

“Yeah?” He says through gritted teeth.

“Yes! Please move. I need to be fucked properly, only you can do it.”

The sound he makes behind you is heavenly, you knew that would work. He pulls out of you before pushing back in slowly. He always does this, he starts slow and then builds up to a bruising pace. All you can do is whimper beneath him and beg for him to fuck you faster. Your pussy sucks him in greedily, his cock pushing against that spongy spot inside of you with every thrust.

“You take me so fucking well. Like you were fucking made for me.” His voice is deep and raw.

”I think I am,” You moan. “You feel so fucking good!”

“Are you gonna come for me again, sweetheart? Gonna soak my cock?”

All you can do is furiously nod your head and moan beneath him, the sounds of your pussy squelching as he fucks you is almost embarassing. You don’t have time to think about it because he’s pulling out of you and gently flipping you over onto your back. He lifts your legs and rests his knees on the bed, throwing your feet over his shoulders and he leans over you. He guides his cock back into you and dives down to kiss you, his tongue pushing past your lips in a messy kiss. You’re both moaning into each other's mouths, not minding when your teeth momentarily clack together.

“Come on gorgeous,” He groans, he’s breathless - pressing kisses to your face between his words. You can tell he’s close too. “Come for me. Squeeze my cock. Let me fucking have it.”

He feels you tighten around him as you come, his name leaving your lips like a fucking prayer. Your hands tightening around his neck, nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, that’s it. You look so beautiful, baby.” He talks you through it, still fucking you as you come around him.

“Oh my god,” You moan. “Come inside of me, Stewy.”

You know he’s wearing a condom, but the dirty talk is hot. He thinks so too, because that's all it takes for him to come. His head is buried in your neck, his teeth biting into the soft skin under your ear. No doubt leaving a mark, but you’ll worry about that tomorrow. Right now all you can think about is how hot he sounds when he comes, you love that he isn’t quiet, that he isn’t afraid to groan your name into your neck.

He stays still for a second, lifting his head and kissing you - gently this time, before he pulls out. You rest for a minute while he discards the condom. You hear rustling and sniffing while he’s in the bathroom and you almost want to yell out to him - this is why we broke up. But you ignore it, getting up from the bed and breezing past him as he leaves the bathroom. You close the door behind you, taking the hotel robe off the back of the door and cleaning yourself up, doing what you need to do. You wonder if you should shower, but decide you should probably go back to your own room to do that.

When you leave the bathroom he’s sitting in the bed under the covers, the tv remote in his hand. Your dress and underwear have been picked up and folded on the chair beside the bed. It makes you smile, how can someone be so thoughtful but so selfish at the same time. That’s why you broke up, you need to keep reminding yourself.

“So, I guess I'm gonna go back to my own room.” You say as you gather your things. You’re on your way back to the bathroom with your clothes when he speaks up.

“Okay,” He says, respecting your decision. “Why?”

”Why?” You repeat, stopping your tracks. “Don’t you want me to go?”

”No. I want you to watch tv with me.”

”Seriously?” You laugh before you realize he’s being serious.

“Yeah, seriously.” His face is impassive, and hard to read. But you can’t resist those big brown eyes and you drop your clothes back onto the floor and slip into bed with him.

“Hey,” He whines as he looks at your dress. “I picked that up and folded it for you and you just threw it on the floor again.”

“Sorry, how rude of me.” You laugh at the mock pout on his face. You’ve sat pretty far away from him and he eyes the space between you.

“Come here.” He says lifting up his arm so you can cuddle into his side. God, you shouldn’t be doing this, you should have left. But he smells good and this bed is so comfortable.

“Will you stay the night here?” He asks quietly

”I shouldn’t.” You sigh.

“I know.” He agrees.

Of course you end up staying the night, Stewy is very convincing. With his promise of round two and a warm shower in the morning, it’s hard to resist. He also promises an expensive breakfast after the shower, but he says, ‘only if you behave yourself.’ You spend the whole night talking and laughing with him. Not only is he the best fuck you’ve ever had, he’s also the funniest person on earth. He’s got the kindest eyes you’ve ever seen but he’s also the biggest assole you’ve ever met. He’s so confusing, but that night you decide that maybe taking a little more time to try and figure him out won’t be so bad - only time will tell.

#i couldnt think of a title btw so…. yea #im RUUSSTTYY i havent written in months lmao #apologies in advance i guess #if anyone even reads this lmao #stewy hosseini #stewy hosseini x reader #stewy hosseini x fem reader #stewy hosseini fan fiction #stewy hosseini smut #succession #succession fanfiction #fanfiction #smut #female reader #x reader

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selfindulgentfandomstuff · 4 months

Text

Using my powers (knowing how to draw Tom) for evil (drawing my selfship with Tom)

Anywaysss I like this one, if you’re gonna reblog any of my succession selfship art, this is the one!

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Elia Holden (left): they/he

Tom Wambsgans (right); he/him

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Reblogs > Likes

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Proshippers DNI

#dark and lonely…i need somebody to hold me #selfship #selfshipping #selfship community #f/o community #selfship art #f/o #self insert #selfshipping art #self insert community #fictional other #fictional other community #f/o art #succession selfship #succession f/o #succession self insert #succession oc #succession fan character

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japhan2024 · 5 months

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Hi there! It's me! 😅 Idk if you want to but, could you write some fluff Ianthony while they are writting the Food Battle script? Like they being cute and laughing and being dorks, some sweet shit like that? PLEASE 🙏🙏

Omg you give the cutest prompts, I'm MELTING. I will try my best!!!

Eye contact

Genre: fluff, angst

"Ian, we're so good together. We work. We... I want you to be happy, and stay happy, and I don't know how many times I have to say that I will stay with you forever, but I will say it as many times as it takes."

read on ao3

"The crinkles around Anthony's eyes when he smiles and laughs. His proud little smile when he talks about what they have accomplished together.

Ian looks sideways at him as they hold a Food Battle marathon at Ian's house. Lately, Ian allows himself to 'look' at his best friend more and more. It is hard not to stare, though. Because Anthony is beautiful. So unfairly beautiful. Being in his presence always excited Ian but he never dared to look at Anthony longer than a second.

But now, after everything that has happened... why not? Why not sneak a peek at that chiseled jaw, those inviting curls, and that olive skin, a mature version of his BFF he remembers from school. Ian catches himself sighing. And so does Anthony. As they lock eyes, Ian quickly looks away, smiling down into his lap.

"This scene is so dope, right," Anthony points at them on the screen.

"Yeah, you're right."

It's the next day. They're at Anthony's house to work on the new Food Battle script.

Anthony looks at Ian with soft, admiring eyes. He loves one thing most of all. Above anything in the world. And that is watching Ian's creative process at work.

"This is so dumb. But what if I just give her a comically large piece of chewed gum right out of my mouth?"

"Ew, that's so gross!! I love it."

Ian laughs. Not the reserved chuckle he gives other people. But the hearty, all-out goofy laugh he only shares with Anthony.

"So, the wife dies... Sorry feminism, but the twist is... YOU were the wife the whole ass time!!"

Anthony giggles. "That explains the seven-year pause so well, oh my god. But... If I'm your wife, how does sex work?"

Ian shrugged matter-of-factly. "Duct tape and an empty Gatorade bottle." He makes a plopping sound to match his zany ass explanation and sends Anthony into hysterical laughter.

"Fuck, we have to put this into the script! We might get demonetized, though."

"Hey, if we really cared about money, we would just steal TikTok videos and put them in compilations on YouTube for the rest of our lives."

"True. God, how I love this..." They smile at each other. God, Ian has such unnaturally light-blue eyes. Anthony notices that lately, Ian makes way more eye contact with him than before. Which is amazing, because he's always tried to get more out of him. More and deeper conversations. More emotion! But it seemed impossible.

At parties, Ian is outgoing, and Anthony gladly tags along. But when it's just the two of them, Ian likes to chill out with his thoughts. And that's fine with Anthony, but he can't help but want more. And now, since everything that happened, they finally talk. For hours!

"To think we both forget how great this is, writing together..." The sunlight that comes in from Anthony's window lights up Ian's eyes even more. Anthony wants to stare into them for all eternity. Those moments of direct eye contact send shivers down his spine, make all his hairs stand up and make him want to run some laps out of sheer excitement.

"Do you remember Star Stories?" Ian asks.

"Oh yeah, that shit was wild."

"Do you remember the George Michael one?"

They both laugh.

"Write about what you know, what you know, what you know..." Anthony mimics the old comedy show.

"There's this one bit," Ian says while laughing. Anthony loves it when Ian is so excited about something he already laughs at it before even telling Anthony.

"What?"

"It's when George Michael cries about his band mate leaving, and it's all dramatic, and then he's suddenly like, super unbothered and says "I'm over it." We should put that in. Like I'm crying about my wife for 1.5 seconds and then I'm like, okay let's do Food Battle, biiitch!"

"That's amazing."

"I know, I didn't come up with it."

"Shut up, you come up with brilliant stuff all the time."

"If you say so."

"Let's take a break," Anthony says.

They order some lunch and hang out on Anthony's balcony. They are drinking some flavored water.

"Any new dates?" Anthony asks suggestively.

"Nope." Ian doesn't elaborate.

"Ian, have you even tried?"

"I guess I haven't. But I'm really happy, Anthony. The right girl will come along, I'm sure."

"Or the right guy?" They never talk about Ian's bisexuality but Anthony wants to bring it up. He wants to know how he can help Ian get a date. Above everything, he wants to make Ian happy.

"Or the right guy, I guess. Or just a person in general. But boobs are a plus."

"Are you into man boobs as well?"

"Hell yeah! As long as I can suck on them... oh no, this is a terrible idea..."

Anthony's eyes light up. Ian's terrible ideas are genius 100% of the time.

"Ian, you must tell me..."

"One of the challenges should be a breast milk pump."

Anthony compulsively giggles through his words. "Oh my god! Ian, we can't show that on YouTube..."

"Can I at least suggest it? You'll say 'ew gross' and I will say, "Oh yeah, you're right... damn it!" And I'll look disappointed."

"We will work it in there somewhere."

Ian squints at Anthony. "Are you giving me more leeway because you're still cheesing about our reunion?"

"Maybe."

"You know you're playing with fire."

"Yeah, I know, hahaha."

"By the way, I'm still willing to burn Smosh to the ground with you."

"I think our fire will light up Smosh, warm the place up."

"With our looove," Ian says in his mocking voice.

Anthony kicks him fondly.

The bell rings: their lunch has arrived.

"I'll go get it," Anthony says, leaving Ian with his thoughts for the moment. He still can hardly believe how invigorating it is to work with his best friend again. It doesn't feel like work at all, they are just hanging out. This is them.

"Here is your gluten-free bagel," Anthony says with a tucked-in chin.

"Well have fun eating your vegan salad of misery," Ian counters.

"At least we are pretty and healthy!" Anthony uses his girly voice. He hasn't in quite a while.

"That voice takes me back."

Anthony laughs.

"For real though," Anthony continues in his normal voice, "you're becoming fitter by the day, the gluten-free diet is working, or are you also running again?"

"I'm hella running, dude. Every morning."

"That's awesome. I'm so happy for you, it used to be such a big part of who you were in high school."

"Yeah, it makes me feel so much better. And if I skip a day, I immediately feel worse. So it's kind of an addiction by now. Gotta go faaast!"

As they eat their lunch, a group of birds flies by. They are shimmering, bright green but their call sounds like nails on a chalkboard.

"Wow."

"Did you know birds have one hole for everything?" Ian suddenly says.

Anthony raises his eyebrows and snorts. "What?

"For everything." Ian looks him in the eye again. That sends Anthony and he doesn't recover from laughing until a few moments later, while Ian repeatedly says "It's called the cloaca, man, the cloaca!"

"Why are you so fucking funny, Ian. You're the funniest person I know. And that's saying something, with all our employees at Smosh."

"Aww, thanks Anthony! I think we just share a kind of humor. My jokes don't land like this at the office." He chuckles.

"Kids these days..." Anthony scoffs.

"Hey, come here, your hair is messed up. I'll fix it for you," Ian says suddenly and comes up to Anthony, closer than he expects. He puts the wayward curl that the wind has blown in Anthony's face, back on top of his head. "That's better. Now you can go back to being pretty again," Ian jokes.

"I love it when you do that kind of stuff," Anthony murmurs.

"What?"

"These little gestures of affection. I appreciate it so much."

Ian doesn't look him in the eye now. Anthony feels bad.

Because he knows.

He knows Ian likes him.

For all those years he's liked him. And he has sometimes taken advantage of that. Flirted with him so Ian would do work for him, that type of stuff. But he hasn't done anything like that since they reconnected. And he isn't planning to. This time, he wants to give Ian what he deserves. To truly appreciate him.

"Hey." Anthony takes Ian's hand.

"Don't do that," Ian tries to look the other way, but fails. They lock eyes once again.

"I'm being sincere, I promise," Anthony says. Ian blushes.

"That means a lot," Ian says. "Now cut it out with the sappy shit, you know I'm bad with that."

But Anthony holds onto Ian's hand stronger.

"It's not sappy, Ian, it's the honest truth. I love you."

Ian swallows. "Yes, and I love you, bro. I love you... and it's hard sometimes, you know? It's hard because when I look into your eyes, Anthony, I see... I see something I want to have. And it's this close, man. But I'll never have it and I've accepted that a long time ago."

"Come here," Anthony says softly, and pulls him into a tight embrace. He whispers: "I've done you wrong for so long, Ian. I want to give you everything... Anything you want. You can have it, whatever it is."

"Don't play with my feelings, Anthony."

"I'm not, I promise."

Ian slowly lets go, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Remember the staring contests?"

"Oh my god, those were always terrible hahaha."

Of course, Ian would break the tension.

"But this doesn't feel like a staring contest. We can finally look at each other honestly. Damn, it does feel good."

"Yeah."

"But Anthony, we have a script to finish."

"Fine. But promise me you're staying over tonight?"

"Fine. Idiot."

"Dumbass."

They go back inside.

#Ian's day #Ian day #fanfic #fan fiction #ianthony #this was my last fic for ian's day! I hope yall enjoyed! The fics I have read so far are stellar!! yall r incredible!#and the art!! jdshksdgjd #ian's day is already a success #and there's the writers who will post later in the day!! so excited!!!11 #AND ARTISTS

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