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hadassah4ever · 10 months

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the three times they wished they kissed you, and the time you finally did (igby slocumb, greg hirsch)

warnings: alcohol use, sex mentions (no actual sex), reader being decently obvious, nothing too crazy, mild mild hurt/comfort

authors note: mother bird has come to feed you some regurgitated worms. i was going to add roman or tom in here, but i was already taking so long to finish the igby part, and i’m scared of making them ooc. enjoy tho. <3 (it’s 3 am and im barely awake. 💀)

word count: 3k

playlist (if you’d like): romanticizing my delusionship— https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6rLX5L9fLuEWueJz6lVaem?si=6gPlbG7LRLKd6aq_eNfp1g

igby slocumb

number one

Settling in was harder than Igby thought. He really didn’t think about how moving across the country with no roots in that area, or really anywhere, would affect him emotionally, but at least he was in California. A benign concept to his still frazzled brain, but he tried his hardest to block out any negative emotion, he got what he wanted, and that’s really all that mattered to him.

He found himself getting attached to strangers he thought were interesting due to the scenarios he made up in his head, and you weren’t safe from that. He first saw you studying in a cafe he frequented. Deducing the fact that you were probably only in there due to the fact that it was a particularly hot and humid day, and you were clearly studying for something considering the textbook sprawled in front of you, and by the fact that you were going over old notes.

His eyes grazed your facial features, but certainly for too long, as you moved your eyes from your notes to the young guy staring at you from across the cafe, he casually glanced away, but it was obvious he was just doing it just to avoid a staring contest with a random girl about 25 feet away from him. You quietly chuckled and playfully rolled your eyes at the fact that he didn’t even try to hide his staring problem, eventually he got sucked back into making eye contact with you, your eyes darting down to the empty chair in front of you, then back to him. Beckoning him with just your eyes.

It’s not every day he was asked to sit down with cute people at cafés, so maybe he’d seize this opportunity to get to know you.

number two

Neither of you were truly used to such mild autumn temperatures, being from different parts of the country. The fact that you moved from the more northeastern part of the states made him cling onto you even harder, you knew what it was like to pack up and leave everything behind, and he respected you even more for that.

“So, how’s college going?” He asked, not really knowing what else to talk about as you walked beside each other.

“Ew, small talk? Seriously, Igby, I thought you were better than that.” You spoke, playfully. “But, yeah, pretty boring. Can’t complain, though, considering I literally signed myself up for it.” You added. The dry, crunching leaves serving as white noise.

“I don’t really know what else to talk about. I’m not going to rant to you about… fucking… Kafka, like your little college boyfriends.” He replied, playing up his annoyance for laughs. “No, my college boyfriends talk about Dostoyevsky.” You joked back.

The way you two clicked was different, and also something he wasn’t used to, unlike anyone else who came before you, your chemistry was different, it was better. It was effortless.

“Have you made any new friends?” You asked. “Why do you care?” He retorted, not used to actually being cared about. “Because I can’t be your only friend. Sometimes I’m concerned for your social well-being.” You shrugged. “Although from your reaction, it’s safe to say no.” You glanced over to him and saw as he playfully rolled his eyes in defeat.

You really got him there. You really were his only friend, even though he truly wished you were more.

number three

As college picked up, you couldn’t help but wonder if there’s a life outside of California that would be worth pursuing. After you graduated, of course. It was still probably a mistake to bring it up so casually, you invited him over to have a relaxing night with a good friend. Instead you watched as his eyes slightly widened and his lips slightly curled into a frown.

“What? I— Where do you even wanna go?” Igby asked, clearly getting defensive, if you truly put two and two together, maybe you’d know truly how much he liked you. “Texas, maybe. Possibly Arizona.” You replied, pretending to think about it in the moment, but truthfully it was consuming your mind most of the time. “Who do you think you are? You wanna make out with a cowboy or something? What’s even over there? Tumbleweeds?” He bombarded you with questions, making it sound like he made California.

You inhaled slowly, to keep yourself from getting too angry at him. “I just really don’t know if California is my forever state. God forbid I try something new.” His simple offended demeanour swapped for a somewhat agitated one, “It’s not about that, it’s the fact that you’re so willing to leave me behind, you know you’re my only friend.”.

“Number one, I’d only leave after I graduate, and number two, whose fault is that? I’ve spoken endlessly about how you need to get some more friends and guess who didn’t follow my advice?” You ranted, irritation taking over your voice. Igby was left speechless, words escaping him aside from: “I’m leaving.”

He would be lying if he said you didn’t look hot while angry, but maybe that didn’t matter much anymore.

number four

You didn’t know if you wanted to be able to completely forget about Igby or have the lack of stubbornness to be able to go and apologise yourself. In reality, you had neither. Which is why you ran to pick up your phone when it began to ring, and how you ended up at his apartment door at 2AM with your tail between your legs.

When he heard you knock, he immediately opened the door, he was clearly standing right behind it, waiting for you. His gaze was fixed on the floor, it was odd to see the boy who was so snide and cynical look like a kicked puppy all of a sudden.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten angry.” He spoke in a voice that made you sure he’d been crying. “You know I can’t stay mad at you either. But I really shouldn’t have said some of that stuff, either.” You slowly began to move towards him, asking him if you could hug him without verbalising it, eventually you ended up with your arms wrapped around him. “You’re very likeable, and I don’t know how people don’t cling to your side and beg to be your friend.”

He stayed silent for a few seconds, just taking in the warmth of your arms and basically basking in it. He used his socked foot to close the door behind you, in preparation for what he was about to admit to.

“I— you probably know why I said that stuff though.” He basically muttered, you didn’t answer in embarrassment, feeling like you should know. “Fuck, I… think I love you.” He spoke, a bit nervous to actually speak the three words he was essentially waiting to drop on you.

You didn’t even hesitate on pressing your lips to his, the kiss was magical, like how they described in the romance novels that made middle aged women swoon, it was abstract. Like warm hospital blankets, like rain in the evening, it was domestic and comfortable.

He attempted to slide his hand up your shirt, knowing what he was trying to do, you redirected it to your waist, the rejection not embarrassing Igby too much. He almost respected you for it more, you could be intimate without sex, and that’s truly what he needed at that moment.

Tender and warm, you two were utterly entranced with the kind of young love that elderly ladies comment about, and maybe Texas didn’t matter to you much anymore.

greg hirsch

number one

You found yourself sitting outside of the venue for the latest Waystar party, right on the last step of one of the staircases outside, the air was wet which signalled the fact that it was most likely going to rain soon. You heard the small taps of dress shoes behind you, getting closer.

“Uh— are you o-okay?” Greg spoke, you didn’t even turn around. Greg was a mere work acquaintance, someone you swore you would try and talk to more, but never really ended up doing so. He seemed kind enough from the brief interactions you had, though, so you really didn’t mind him speaking to you while you were trying to escape the party atmosphere, at least for a few minutes.

“Yeah. Just needed some space.” You replied. A small, awkward silence fell between you as the chatter from the party continued behind you two. “W-Would it be… Could I join you?” He asked, trying to sound confident.

You glanced up at him, a soft look in your eyes, but the rest of your face didn’t portray much. “Yeah.” You answered, voice getting slightly higher in an attempt to sound as non aggressive as possible. He awkwardly smiled and nodded, moving down to sit beside you. His long legs were almost against his chest, in an attempt to copy how you sat, you watched in silent amusement as he tried to move around and get comfortable, before inevitably just letting his legs just rest in front of himself, completely straight like toothpicks.

“Sorry if I’m intruding or anything.” He said, more so out of muscle memory politeness than actually apologising. “Out of all the people who could’ve possibly come and sat down next to me, I think you’re the one I hate the least. Don’t apologise.” You told him in a slightly monotone and tired, yet genuine tone.

He felt a light blush overtake his cheeks and his brain stopped functioning for a second, he was searching for any possible words he could string together to charm you like you just unintentionally did to him, but nothing came, he just stared at you like a scared puppy and let out a “Thank you.” that bordered on being muttered.

You didn’t really speak much on the steps, but there was a mutual sense that you didn’t really have to.

number two

“Er— y/n?” You heard Greg say behind you, you softly swung your desk chair around to look at him. “Do you wanna like… Come over after work? I’ve got a uh— bottle of wine and yeah.” The end of his sentence didn’t really sound like the end, sounding more like he just ran out of words. You nodded and gently smiled. “I’d love to, Greg.”

———

You knew that as soon as he uncorked the bottle it was never going to just be one glass. That was kinda just how wine worked, and at this point, you were tipsy enough to have no filter, but not enough to be full blown drunk, which meant you were both opening up about every little thing in your life like it was the end of the world. After a particularly deep question, you didn’t really know if there was much else to talk about.

Greg spoke up, trying to keep the conversation going anyway. “So… what do you think of like, ATN and st—“ “Could we save that kind of talk for the office? Not to be rude or anything.” You interrupted, Greg completely stopped and nodded. “I— yeah, yeah.” His voice got higher to show his non-confrontational-ness. “Sorry. I just swear I get a migraine when I remember what the company I work for actually stands for.” You joked, trying to cut the tension. “No, no. I understand.” He replied through an awkward chuckle.

There was a silence that was reminiscent of the night on the stairs but much more awkward. Greg took another chance to speak with you, “Have you, y’know… been in any relationships recently?” He asked, a realisation set in for you, the tone in his voice wasn’t casual enough. He liked you.

“Mmm…” You pressed your lips together and looked up in thought. “Nothing too recent, clearly. Dating in New York is weird.” You answered and looked at him to signal his response. “Yeah. Same. At least not lik—L-long term.” He rushed out, trying to lean back slightly on his sofa and look confident and suave, clearly you saw through it, though. The stutter not helping his case.

“Not gonna lie, that’s a bit odd to me. In my mind you seem like the kind of guy to either have a pretty decent girlfriend.” You stopped yourself from saying the last bit, but it ended up flowing out anyway. “Or fuck Tom. But either way you seem… Dateable. Compared to some of the people I’ve met here, at least.” You shrugged, feeling some of your own awkwardness come out of hiding.

He didn’t really know how to reply to that, he glanced down from your eyes to your lips then back at your eyes. He was feeling kind of lightheaded, your lips just looked too kissable, a thought which he knew wasn’t sparked from the alcohol, it was lingering on his brain for a while, fantasies about taking you out on a date and kissing you afterwards like a proper gentleman ran through his mind for most of the day, which was embarrassing to admit.

“Yeah cool, uh— you too!” He chuckled nervously, getting slightly sobered up by his own adrenaline. You just smiled and softly nodded, Greg felt something impending which never came to fruition. Your smile was like the whooshing of a guillotine through the air to him, he assumed it was you preparing to lean over and press your lips to his.

He was wrong about that.

number three

It was raining and you’d completely forgotten your umbrella like the idiot you are. It wasn’t just a tolerable drizzle, it was essentially pouring, Greg saw this as his opportunity to be in his own cheesy rom-com and offer to walk you home. Much to his surprise, you accepted. He really thought you’d just get a ride from one of your friends or get an Uber, but his heart definitely skipped a beat when you accepted.

His heart continued to skip beats when your shoulder would brush against his arm, he felt weird. He felt creepy feeling this way, but he really couldn’t change it. It was mostly silent aside from the occasional comment on how hard it was raining. You two knew how much you wanted to kiss each other, it was almost like if you tried to hold a normal conversation, you’d black out and wake up married to him with 2 kids in a typical suburban life.

His rom-com idea was cut short with you arriving at the front of your apartment. He didn’t even know if he could say goodbye without feeling a small ache in every inch of his body, but he did anyway. He stood looking into the glass of the front doors as you walked away, maybe you didn’t really like him in that sense. The only time you really showed clear interest in him was after 4 glasses of wine.

number four

You didn’t really know what you did to fuck up. Yeah, you two didn’t make out on the front steps to the entrance of your apartment, but you didn’t really know if that was grounds to stop talking to you. Honestly, you didn’t really know what to feel, so you defaulted to feeling pissed off at him.

Did you have a reason? Yeah. Kind of. Sorta. A little. Maybe.

In reality, Greg didn’t know what to say about that night. Was he supposed to apologise? Were you supposed to apologise? Did either of you have to? He had no idea. The need to kiss you was overwhelming at this point, if he saw a genie and only had one wish, kissing you would be the wish that rolled off his tongue in milliseconds. On the other hand, you were confused. Not really putting in any thought to thinking about what you actually wanted, you decided on closure.

The idea of your apartments being on the path to each other felt like divine intervention, but dear god was it hard to keep up with that lanky ass man.

“Greg.” You projected. Not necessarily a shout, but loud enough where he could hear you, you had very few people around so that was a plus too. His body completely took over and he immediately stopped and turned around to see you borderline running to catch up with him.

He didn’t know if he should’ve turned back around or stayed, but it felt like he was being weighed down, his feet completely anchored to the sidewalk and he watched you with a sympathetic and anxious look as you finally reached him.

“Fuck. I really didn’t plan what I was going to say. What did I do to you? You’ve been avoiding me like I fucking— killed your mom or something!” The frustration that came out shocked you, but you still spoke at a reasonable volume. “I— honestly, I don’t know.” He answered, realising he didn’t know why he stopped talking to you, cold turkey.

“I think that’s the worst part… I— do you even like me?” His voice had both an anger and sadness oozing out of it. “Of course I like you—.” You replied. “No, you know in what capacity I’m talking about. You don’t know how much you fucking affect me, y/n, just…” He trailed off, his typical anxious stutter gone.

You held the signature somewhat awkward pause that always graced your conversations and nodded. “You’re right. I know what you mean. And if you don’t fucking kiss me right now I’m going to go insa—“ He didn’t even wait for you to finish before he dove down and pushed his lips against yours in a very new display of confidence. His kisses weren’t very skilled, but fulfilling nonetheless.

He pulled back and looked down at you, your lips slightly rosier and held a look of ‘did I just fuck up?’ in his eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He spoke, his breathing heavy and quick, slowing down when he remembered you asked him to kiss you, and when he saw your extremely happy smile.

“Don’t you dare apologise, Greg. Kiss me again.” You chuckled, cheeks slightly pink and your voice filled with a lightness that eased him. You didn’t have to ask him twice and he bent over, much more gently, and kissed you again.

Jesus, he could do that all day.

#succession x you #succession x reader #succession x y/n #greg hirsch x reader #greg hirsch x you #igby slocumb x reader #igby goes down

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the-west-meadow · 1 year

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Nowhere

Kendall Roy x Reader

tw: suicidal thoughts, verbal abuse, drug/alcohol abuse, drunk driving

As you stood in the shade of Connor’s patio, watching Logan and his children walk towards the old adobe church, Kendall’s absence was painfully apparent. You had grown used to seeing him at his father’s side. But he had not come with his family to New Mexico. It was a shame, you thought; he would have liked it here.

Greg, standing beside you in a long peacoat, waved as they disappeared behind the wooden church doors.

“What do you think they’re going to talk about?” Greg said.

“Years of suppressed trauma, maybe.”

“Wow. You think?”

You shrugged. “They probably won’t get around to it.”

You strolled back towards the house, where the others were sitting by the pool. Anyone who was not a child of Logan Roy had been left behind. Marcia, Tom, and Willa eyed you as you entered the house with Greg.

Greg leaned on the kitchen counter as you poured yourself a shot of whiskey from the mini-bar.

“Getting right to it, huh?” said Greg.

“You want some?”

“I’m good. It’s a little early for my system.”

Tom strolled into the kitchen, hands in his pockets.

“Hey, rascals. I see you breaking into the liquor stash. You should have invited me.”

“Well, you’re invited now,” joked Greg.

Tom leaned on the counter and grinned at you both.

“Here we are. The outcasts.”

“I’ll admit, I do feel kind of left out,” said Greg.

“God, wouldn’t you give anything to be a fly on the wall in that room? The whole thing is so uncomfortable it makes me want to puke. I love it.”

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. The name on the screen made your heart jump: Kendall Roy.

“Excuse me a second,” you said, slipping out of the kitchen.

“Is that a new lover?” Tom called after you. You jogged through the house to the room where you were staying and shut the door behind you.

“Hey, what’s up?” you said, keeping your voice low.

“Hey, Y/N. How you doing?”

“Surviving,” you said. “How are you?”

“Can you come meet me? I’m somewhere outside of Albuquerque.”

“What? When did you get here?”

“I’ll fill you in. Are you coming?”

“I’m at the ranch right now. I don’t have a car.”

“Can you figure something out?”

You thought fast, rubbing your forehead. “Yeah. I’ll take care of it.”

“You’re the best.”

You hung up, heart racing. You hadn’t heard from Kendall in weeks. He texted occasionally to check in, but it had been a long time since you heard his voice. It was a painful reminder of how much you had missed him lately.

Tom and Greg looked up as you walked into in the kitchen.

“What’s up?” Tom asked.

“Just a family thing,” you said.

“Oh, come on. You can’t have a personal life. There’s only work, work, work!”

Tom tossed back the rest of his drink and set his glass down.

“Okay, I’ll fuck off. Both of you come sit by the pool and save me from Marcia and Willa. I mean it.”

You and Greg watched until he was out the door, then Greg turned to you in anticipation.

“Well?”

“That was Kendall. He’s here.”

“Are you serious?”

“He wants me to meet him. But I don’t have a fucking car.”

“Right.” Greg glanced around as if looking for an answer. “Okay, I’m not supposed to know this, but there’s a collection of old cars in Connor’s garage. And, stupidly, all the keys are hanging on a rack in the garage. So if someone wanted to take one of those cars out for a drive while everyone was in therapy, I doubt anyone would notice for a few hours at least.”

“Cover for me. Make up a story.”

“Okay, yeah-“

But you were already gone.

You felt like a thief, skulking around the sides of the huge adobe ranch house, past the refurbished church and towards the unlocked garage. Lined up in the cool darkness were half a dozen vintage cars. Spotless. Expensive. Fueled up and ready to ride. You slowed down, taking your time to choose your ride. This was a once in a lifetime chance, after all. When Connor found out, you’d probably be banned from the state of New Mexico.

You chose an aqua 1967 Cadillac de Ville convertible. Sitting in the smooth leather seat, you watched with giddy panic as the garage door opened. Then you gunned it, kicking up a cloud of red dust as you escaped down the long ranch road from Connor’s estate.

The roads in New Mexico were long, straight, and empty. Gnarled barbed wire fences emerged from the scrublands, and distant mountains rolled beneath white clouds. It was the antithesis of what you were used to in New York. Here, everything was low to the ground, wild, free. You flew down the roads, the wind roaring all around you.

It was an hour’s drive to Albuquerque. You kept driving until you reached a diner in a small desert town beyond the city. When you rolled into the parking lot, you saw Kendall standing outside, smoking. Your heart swelled at the familiar sight of him. He stared as the aqua Cadillac parked squarely in front of him.

You cut the engine.

“Hey,” you called.

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

Kendall strolled up to the car, looking it over. Then he shook his head and let out a short laugh.

“Alright. Not really what I had in mind. But it’s cool.”

As he came closer, you were able to take a good look at him. He looked different. He was tan from the desert sun, dressed in a denim jacket and black jeans. His eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. There was also an edginess, a restlessness to his movements that you didn’t recognize.

He dropped his cigarette, stepped on it, and put his hands in his pockets. You could feel him taking you in behind his dark shades.

“It’s good to see you,” he said.

“You too.”

“Let’s figure out a game plan. I feel like I just landed on an alien planet.”

You sat across from Kendall in the booth, squinting in the hard sunlight that slanted through the window. The waiter brought two mugs of hot coffee. You sipped it gratefully, feeling it nudge against your dull headache. As the waiter stepped away, you took in the sight of Kendall sitting across from you.

“How long have you been here?” you asked.

“A few days. Just clearing my head.”

“You seem good.”

“I feel good.” He sipped his coffee, eyeing you over the rim of his mug. “How have things been for you while I was gone?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m not getting anywhere. I don’t have many allies.”

“You and Greg seem pretty tight.”

“I guess so. You cling to each other for survival when you have an insane boss.”

“Pretty bad, huh?”

“It wasn’t this bad when you were around. You’re like a path through the insanity.”

“Well, thanks. But I’ve done plenty of fucked up things, too.”

“It’s different. This borders on abuse.”

Kendall looked alarmed. “Hold on, you don’t mean, like—“

“No, no. Nothing like that. Just psychological shit.”

“Are you okay, though?”

“I’m coping.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m drinking a lot more.”

Kendall nodded, still peering at you intently. “Uh-huh.”

You gazed into the steaming coffee for a moment before voicing the question that was on your mind.

“Does this mean you’re back?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m still working up the courage to see my family.”

He didn’t say any more. The waiter brought your food; huevos rancheros. Kendall stuck with coffee. He watched you dig in with a slight smile.

“You seem like you’re thriving here. Big blue Cadillac. Local cuisine.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s very different here.”

“Seriously. I feel like never get to see the real you. We’re always under the cloud of my dad. You know what I mean?”

You nodded. ”Everyone’s been on eggshells around him this week. I don’t know how you live with it.”

“It’s fucking torture.”

He was smiling, but you could see the pain in his dark eyes.

“Are you going to eat anything?” you finally asked.

“Not that hungry. I guess the desert’s making an ascetic out of me.”

He smiled again and looked down at his hands, turning his sunglasses over and over. He hadn’t stopped fidgeting through the entire meal. You set your fork down and slid your empty plate to the side.

“Hey,” he said, “How long can you be away?”

“At least until someone notices the car is gone.”

“Come on. Let’s go somewhere.”

You drove the Cadillac as Kendall leaned back in the passenger seat, watching the desert fly past. An orange glow filled the sky as the sun sank lower.

“How far do you want to go tonight?” he asked.

Your heart skipped. “What are you asking?”

He laughed. “Jesus. Not like that. I mean how far do you want to drive? Mexico?”

“Are you serious?”

“I don’t know. Am I?”

You looked at him, and you still couldn’t tell. The sun was beginning to sink, casting long shadows on the black road. The mountains grew darker in the distance. Kendall leaned forward, peering out at the desert.

“Let’s stop up here for a second.”

You slowed the car, pulling to the side of the road. Low music drifted from the radio. You cut the engine, suddenly surrounded by a deafening silence. Kendall went very still, listening.

“This is a good place,” he said in a soft voice. He opened his door and started out. “Come on.”

You followed. Small jackrabbits leapt out of your way on the path, which was surrounded by yellow-flowering creosote. A low breeze set everything in motion; the shrubs, the sand, the furtive animals.

You climbed a low plateau that overlooked the sprawling desert. Kendall stood taking it all in. He pulled a small baggy from his pocket and flicked it with his fingernail. You watched in alarm as he dispensed a small amount onto the flesh of his thumb and sniffed sharply. His body seemed to relax. His expression grew lighter. He looked at you almost apologetically, as if awaiting your judgement.

“Yeah. Sorry. This is what I’ve really been doing.”

It was all starting to make sense. The restlessness, the edginess. The fact that he had been here for days without telling anyone.

“Shit, Kendall,” you murmured.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you, though?”

“Not really. You?”

You looked at his hands, which still held the bag of coke. Without a word, Kendall tapped out a rough line of powder onto the flesh of his thumb and offered it to you. You leaned forward, pressing one nostril closed, and snorted it off his hand. When you sat up, the world was reeling. The sunset had turned everything to flame. You looked at Kendall and smiled.

“I’m glad you came here,” you said.

“I’m sorry I left you alone with them. I just didn’t want to bring you down with me.”

“I’d rather work for you. I feel like I’m going to have a fucking panic attack when your dad comes into a room.”

“Now you know what my entire life’s been like.” He smiled. “If you’re not careful, you’ll turn into me.”

You turned to look at him. “But I admire you more than anyone.”

Kendall laughed. Tears slowly rose in his eyes.

“Wow. Never thought I’d hear those words.”

He sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“I’m serious,” you said.

“You know, my dad never praises anyone. But everything I do is for him, just hoping that one day he’ll look up and say that I did a good job.”

You sat for a long time watching the sunset until the sky grew purple and dark. Eventually you wavered to your feet, then held out your hand for Kendall. With a big heave, you got him to his feet. He stumbled forward into your arms, then leaned heavily into you. You put your arms hesitantly on his back, feeling the dampness of his shirt. He rested his forehead on your shoulder.

“I missed you,” he said.

You squeezed your arms tighter around him.

“I missed you too.”

He quietly withdrew from your arms. You began to scramble down the plateau, busting your asses several times. By the time you reached the bottom, you were cracking up, covered in dirt. Kendall doubled over with laughter, his hands on his knees, wiping tears from his eyes. Then he looked up and smiled: that big, heart-melting smile.

Your heart suddenly grew warm, despite the oncoming desert cold. As you drove, you snuck a glance at Kendall. His face was turned towards the red sunset, glowing with happiness. A false happiness, you knew. But he deserved all that he could get.

As you pulled up the driveway to Connor’s ranch, you saw a tall figure running out to meet you. It was Greg. Kendall hopped out of the car and pulled Greg to him in a hug.

“What up, Greg?”

“Hey man, I’m really happy to see you but I also have bad news. Turns out those cars are highly precious to Connor. Also, Logan is pretty unhappy about the situation.”

“Does he know I’m here?” Kendall said.

“Well, yeah. It was hard to explain otherwise.”

“That’s what he’s unhappy about. My dad doesn’t give a shit about the car.”

Kendall started towards the house with you and Greg following close behind.

“Is he okay?” Greg said quietly.

You just shook your head. “I don’t think he should be here right now.”

It was cool and silent inside the adobe house. Then, the unmistakable boom of Logan’s voice shook the air.

“Where the fuck are they?”

Kendall seemed to waver in his tracks, then forged ahead towards the kitchen.

Everyone stood together, waiting. They fell silent as you entered the room.

“Has everyone resolved their familial issues?” Kendall said as he strolled forward.

“Jesus, is he high?” said Shiv.

“Are you blind?” said Roman. “He’s completely fucking wasted.”

Logan made a beeline for you, causing your heart to drop steeply.

“I should have you fucking arrested. Car theft, drug possession. What else?”

“Hey, fuck off,” Kendall said, stepping between you. “She was just doing what I asked.”

Logan’s eyes pierced through you. You couldn’t move, couldn’t escape the vice grip of his gaze.

“Don’t you know him better than that? You’re his fucking assistant, no?”

“Actually, she’s my assistant,” Tom said in a low voice, but Logan didn’t hear.

“Yeah, she got loaded with me,” Kendall said, raising his voice. “That’s because she’s my only friend in this shitstorm of a life.”

Logan turned to Kendall, looking him dead in the eye. “You don’t deserve a life.”

Then, jabbing a finger at you: “And you’re fucking fired.”

Logan turned and walked away. Kendall was still reeling from the blow his father had just delivered. He looked like he was about to fall over from the force of it.

“She doesn’t work for you!” Kendall managed.

“Technically, she works for me,” Tom said, still unnoticed.

“Then you get rid of her,” Logan said to Kendall. “She’s not good for you.”

Logan turned and stalked out of the room. Kendall just stared after him, shaking. Finally, he seemed to snap out of it.

“Come on,” he said to you. You followed as he stormed away, painfully aware of the stares of his family as you left.

“You got the keys?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Get in that car.”

“Jesus, Kendall-“

“Then give them to me. They can say I stole it.”

You didn’t hesitate to toss him the keys. You hopped into the passenger’s seat. Kendall started the car, peeling down the ranch road with red dust glowing in the taillights.

Kendall tore down the straight desert road, headlights cutting through a thick darkness.

“I didn’t want my dad to hurt you.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. It’s the worst feeling in the world.”

He was silent as he continued to drive, eyes fixed ahead. Finally he spoke.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. This is my fault.”

You couldn’t argue that, but you also couldn’t blame him. “It’s okay. I’m just trying to figure out what I’m going to do.”

“Work for me,” he said.

You looked at him, trying to gauge if he was serious.

“It’s either that or go back to my dad, begging for a job.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“I know. So I’m rehiring you as my assistant. Actually, I’m promoting you to senior advisor.”

“What does that involve?”

“Getting drunk with me until we both forget the pain.”

You bought a bottle of tequila at a nearby ABC store in the next town, then stopped at the first motel you saw, a cheap but clean place called The Desert Flower. You were both crashing from the cocaine. Kendall’s eyes were bleary and red, his face dark with stubble. He was going down fast. You sat in the car, taking turns with the bottle, unable to even make it to the room.

“I’m sick of wanting to fucking die.”

“Kendall…”

“You heard him, right? He said I don’t deserve a life. That’s how he makes me feel. Every day.”

You heard his voice break. Tears streamed down his face.

“What would it take? For him to smile at me once, to pat me on the fucking back? What do I have to do?”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do.”

He stared at you, and for a moment it looked like his entire world was crashing down around him. You saw the loss playing out behind his eyes as he realized the truth of your words. Then he leaned forward, put his hand on the back of your head, and kissed you.

You didn’t hesitate to respond. Everything was falling apart, but at least you could feel the warmth of him, his searching hands, his desperate mouth. You squeezed his wrist as his hand gripped your thigh. Then you both suddenly pulled back.

“Fuck,” he said. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

He was still holding your hand tightly. You wouldn’t let go. You both caught your breath, reeling from the touch.

“I need to go inside,” he said.

He leaned on your shoulder on the way into the room. When you got inside, he collapsed onto his knees, sobbing. You got down on the floor with him, stroking his back, trying to talk to him. But he didn’t seem to hear. He curled up on the floor, totally unresponsive, rocking himself as he wept.

You didn’t know what to do. The Kendall you knew was suddenly gone. You could only think of one ally who could still help you: Greg.

Need help, you texted.

Where are you?

You sent him the address of the motel. He responded immediately.

I’ll be there as soon as I can.

You finally got Kendall off the floor and onto the bed. He huddled there like a frightened child.

An hour passed. You heard a car pull up and saw headlights flare through the curtains. When you opened the door, Greg was sitting there in a red convertible. You laughed, unable to help it.

Greg got out of the car, looking completely out of place.

“Yeah, I know…” he sighed, looking at the car. “There aren’t many Ubers in the middle of nowhere.”

“Does anyone know?”

“Just Tom. He said he’d cover for me. So we’ll see how that goes.”

He peered past you into the room.

“How’s Kendall?”

“Not good.”

“What about you? You don’t look so good yourself.”

“I just need someone here to make sure one of us doesn’t die.”

“Okay, yeah. We should definitely try and prevent that.”

You moved aside, letting Greg through. Kendall was still curled on the bed, his head tucked into his arms.

You sat beside Greg on the edge of your bed, talking in low voices as you gazed at Kendall.

“What have you guys been doing?”

“A lot of coke and tequila.”

“Wow. So a pretty serious binge, then.”

“I think I’m in over my head.”

You gazed at Kendall, who had withdrawn so far into himself that you didn’t know if he was aware of your presence.

“I thought I could help him,” you said.

“That’s more than anyone else has done for him.”

“Why don’t they try to help him?”

“Honestly, I don’t think his family knows how to see him as a person. They only think of themselves.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing I got fired. I don’t know why I even want to work for them.”

“I frequently ask myself the same question. But even though they kind of suck, I still like them.”

“They’re your family.”

“That’s true.”

Greg looked thoughtful. “Then why do you stick around?”

You gave a slight nod towards Kendall’s sleeping form.

“I want to see him win. Not for anyone else. For himself.”

You couldn’t see it in the darkness, but a tear gathered in the corner of Kendall’s closed eye and slid down the bridge of his nose, then was gone.

Greg slept on the floor between your beds. You gave him half of your pillows and the top sheet of your bed.

Sometime in the night, both Greg and Kendall began to snore lightly. You could feel their resting forms in the darkness, the hum of the air conditioner, the traffic slowly streaming by outside. Cars rumbled in and out of the parking lot. Doors open and shut. Everything moved slow in the late hours of the night, the early morning.

They weren’t your family, but you loved them. You didn’t belong among them, but you had made a place for yourself in their lives. And they had become an inseparable part of yours. You held onto this thought as you waited out the long night.

It was early, and you were just beginning to fall asleep, when you heard vague sounds of movement in the room. You felt someone crawl into the bed with you. It was Kendall. He drew himself close, facing your curled form, mirroring it with his own body. He pressed his forehead against yours and reached pleadingly for your hands. You twined your fingers around his.

“Hey,” he whispered. He sounded as if he had been crying.

“Hey.”

You felt his hands for the first time, stroking them with your fingers. He held tightly to you, drawing himself as close as possible.

“Am I going to be okay?” he rasped.

You put your hand on the back of his head. He was shaking, tears dampening the pillow.

“I promise.”

You held him for a long time, until his breathing calmed and he finally stopped shaking. He never let go of your hands, never moved. Your knees touched, arms intertwined. When you opened your eyes, he was looking at you. Neither of you said anything. He stroked your hand with his thumb.

Greg groaned from the floor, and both of you went still, listening. Then you started to giggle.

“Where the fuck am I?” Greg mumbled, rolling over in his sheets, still half asleep.

Kendall snorted, and you shushed him, still trying not to laugh. You could still see tears in his eyes. But he was smiling.

#succession #kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy/reader #kendall in new mexico #jeremy strong #tw: alcohol #tw: drugs #tw: verbal abuse #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: drunk driving #boss/employee relationship #daddy issues

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dramaturgical-sense · 1 year

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succession fic rec list

In honour of succession s4 coming out, I thought I’d make a list of my favourite succession fics. These are all either romangerri or tomgreg, but other characters tend to feature fairly prominently. I’ve split these fics up into two categories: missing moments in canon and fix-it fics. The first category features fics that stick closely to the events of canon and are true to the tone of the show. The latter includes fics that try and give the characters more functional and healthier relationships, and are more optimistic. Fics with an asterisk are my personal favourite.

As always, check the tags and warnings on ao3 before reading. And without further ado, see below for the fics :)

romangerri

missing moments in canon

the nutcracker [M] by @thefudge [1,218 words] - “Roman. Behave.” (or Gerri and Roman see The Nutcracker. Holiday prompt).

This fic would fit right in with one of the early s2 episodes, it nails their dynamic from that era perfectly. It’s a romangerri classic: sexual-but-not-really-sexual contact, and its super hot. A must-read.

Must Be Love [T] by @everybodyilovedies [2,719] - On the plane ride back from Tuscany, Kendall and Roman get some time alone to talk about dickpicgate, and the woman at the (attempted) receiving end of it.

Even if you aren’t a romangerri shipper, I would recommend this fic just for the hilarious dynamic between Kendall and Roman. The author manages to tease the possibility of a reunion between Roman and Gerri, while also staying true to the events of canon.

the true encounter [M] by wellprince [1,354] - “Hell yeah he is,” Roman says. “He’s about to splash his cum all over this great white nation of ours. And I’m the invisible hand behind the handjob. Look, you’d love him if you met him.” That’s probably not true. Gerri doesn’t love anyone. Whatever.

This fic is the perfect coda to ep 3.06. Not only is it really well-written, it also functions as a great analysis of Roman’s character, his sexuality issues and explores what pulls him towards both Mencken and Gerri.

**You Could Make a Killing [M] by gaycoruscant [3,633] - After watching Logan slap Roman, Gerri struggles with conflicting loyalties.

This fic explores the contradictions of Gerri’s relationship with Roman and her support of his father. Gerri is beautifully written - she’s multi-faceted, and the author does a really good job getting into her head. The writing is beautiful, and there’s a delicious tension between Roman and Gerri throughout.

fix-it fics

live near your fire as winter blows [E] by @alittledizzy [10,047] - Roman invites Gerri to a cabin in the Catskills and they manage to work through some (not all, but some) of their shit.

Roman and Gerri get their shit together in a way that feels very in-character. I especially enjoy how the author has handled the age gap - this fic does not shy away from the fact that Gerri is an older woman, which makes both her character and the sex scene feel really natural and authentic.

Ring the Bells That Still Can Ring [E] by moreculturelesspop [1,800] - Roman considers fatherhood and an alternative life with Gerri.

This fic is exactly what I imagine the inside of Roman’s head sounds like. It’s very well-written and presents a really interesting study of Roman’s views on parenting and his feelings towards Gerri. Fantastic Roman POV.

holiday [T] by @dollsome-does-tumblr [2,107] - Gerri steals Roman away for breakfast on the last morning in Tuscany. Set after 3.09.

If you’re worried about what will happen to Roman and Gerri in s4, or still hurting after the s3 finale, read this fic. This fic gives a real sense of closure to the events in Italy and still leaves open the possibility of a reunion in the future.

tomgreg

missing moments in canon

**the old way with the sledge [M] by @round-thedecay [4,390] - Tom takes care of Greg, with many layers of bargaining, withheld information, and slaughterhouse imagery in between. Meanwhile: Tom's marriage will be a slow death.

I can literally hear Tom and Greg’s voices in my head as I read the dialogue in this fic. Even though Shiv only shows up at the end, she feels like such a presence throughout this fic. Both her character and relationship with Tom are really well-handled.

Subterranean Homesick Blues [M] by @envius [9,077] - After a month of separation, Tom gets everything he thought he wanted.

The author really understands the dynamic between Tom/Greg and Tom/Shiv, with both relationships feeling balanced and in-character. This is MY s4, so no matter what happens in the show, I know I’ve always got this fic.

Three Legs [E] by @neroxsporus [6,603] - Tom and Greg celebrate Greg's moving up. It's hard to say who gets more out of it.

Excellent coda to ep 2.04, where Greg uses Tom as a human footstool. This fic nails the weird, homoerotic aspects of their relationship and explores the culture of toxic masculinity and power at Waystar. Very funny and in-character.

**Saturn's Stomach [M] by baffledbear [6,549] - Things take a turn for the worse when Logan invites Tom and Greg on a secluded hunting trip in Virginia. Deep in the wilderness and with nowhere else to run, the pair must rely on each other in order to survive a deadly game.

This fic feels like it is written by someone who really understands Tom’s arc and what the narrative is trying to convey. The ending is incredibly satisfying, tying in many of the themes from the show. The relationship between Tom and Greg develops in a really plausible manner, and while they are endgame, Tom and Shiv’s relationship is still incredibly meaningful throughout.

fix-it fics

put your money where your mouth is tonight [E] by asphaltworld [6,964] - Greg smokes and tries to think of what to do, like, with his life in general.

Greg loves being a sugar baby: The fic. This is a very plausible take on Greg’s character, and the author does a really good job delving into Greg’s POV and his thoughts on Tom. This is a fun, lighthearted read that fits in well with the end of s3.

#succession #tomgreg #romangerri #tom wambsgans #greg hirsch #roman roy #gerri kellman #fic #fic recs #if you want to be taken off the list or i forgot to tag your tumblr #message me and i’ll fix it

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gregoftom · 9 months

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A canon divergence I was thinking about:

Tom, appointed CEO, hand-waves Greg away when he approaches him, planning full-well to do the "I got you" sticker moment in a few days. He just wants to punish Greg a bit for straying.

Greg goes home, all alone in his apartment and breaks. He has finally lost the only person who has ever gave a shit about him. He's the problem--he's why everyone who he loves leaves him. He feels delirious, and heartbroken, and so claustrophobic and just makes the insane decision to flee, booking a flight to Minnesota, St. Paul to be exact (this is the one thing of Tom's he lets himself have).

By some miracle, Mama Wambsgans runs into him and recognizes him--its that tall, but incredibly polite fellow from Tommy's wedding. And Mrs. Wambsgans, a Midwestern woman, was not about to let one of Tommy's friends sit around all upset like this. She takes him home (because apparently collecting strays is a Wambsgans family trait) and makes him a hot meal and listens to him as he spills everything, unable to hold it all back anymore.

Mrs. Wambsgans quickly realizes that this tall young man is utterly in love with her son.

And what do you know it? Her firm recently had a paralegal quit, so there is an opening available. Greg should do fine after all of his assistant experience.

Greg accepts, feeling so thankful that this practically complete stranger would do so much for him. But he begs her not to tell Tom he's here--he can't bear to see Tom's disappointment and indifference. Mrs. Wambsgans reluctantly agrees that she won't tell Tom unless he brings Greg up (and she is feeling a bit petty because he has been dodging her calls).

Two months pass and Greg is actually doing pretty well as a paralegal. He is used to high-pressure environment that is present in the legal field, but now at least he can let work stay at work. And he goes over and hangs out with Tom's parents often, enjoying the warmth that seems to exude from them (and they enjoy getting more insight in Tommy's world in New York).

Finally, the fateful day happens--Tom calls. And mentions in passing that Greg had up and left New York, just leaving him behind.

And Mrs. Wambsgans tells him.

When Tom shows up in St. Paul the very next day, she realizes that he is just as head-over-heels in love with Greg too.

Shenanigans ensue.

OOOGH I LOVE THAT SO MUCHHHH THATS SO GOOD AND SMART AND SKJDLSKJD pls for the love of god write this into a fiiiic bc from your last one you could do it SO GOOD. you write them. so good. <3

#tomgreg #MAMA WAMBSGANS TAKING CARE OF GREG WAGGHGHDJH #tom would abso Break losing greg tho like mama wambsy would almost have a stroke seeing her baby back again #bc he would be sleep deprived and need to be fed again. he would've been miserable #BUT THE SHENANIGANS TO REPAIR IT ALL AAARUGUUHH OUGH AUGH. i Need This

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bamboobrat · 1 year

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succession s4 e7 recap: 🍆🍆🇺🇸

this week's recap is nothing short of a trauma dump from this here political operative.

never in my life did i think i would relate to nate, but there truly is nothing scarier than election eve....

we start the episode off the disguisting brothers, preparing for a long night at ATN.

tom has seemingly still not slept and greggory peggory is still recovering from his night on the town with one lukas mattson.

a few levels up, team shiv and team roman are also gearing up for a long night.

other than the distinct lack of booze, i'd say the vibes are pretty realistic.

roman with mencken was always my least favorite version of roman. this episode is no exception.

in fact, i think i'm demonstratively anti-roman in this episode.

and gerri is nowhere to be seen:((

shiv is worried about mattson letting greg in on their little plans.

as she should. rule number 1: don't talk to greg.

rava has to deal with kendall yet again.

this woman is a saint. someone save her.

ken is still on his "everything i do, i do for my children"-shit. you know, everything except ensure that a fascist doesn't make it to the white house.

honestly, this episode is really, very good.

i never wanna watch it again.

mencken bonds with roman over the fact that they both hate the word 'narrative'.

he is prepared to lose and for a millisecond i was hopeful.

tom and greg do coke behind a whiteboard.

this is the right wing politics that i know. 10/10 great representation.

however, we all know how tom is with drugs. he does them all wrong and feels wrong and immediately begins spiraling.

my body is very bad at many things, such as producing enough serotonin, but years of campaigning means my stomach has superpowers.

gas station sushi? no problem. leftover pizza from the night before? don't feel a thing.

i'm stronger than tom, is what i'm saying. activists just do it better, i guess.

connor represents all politicians, all the time:

now, i respect all the politicians i work for loads, but there is just something inherently narcisstic about having six people cater to your needs constantly.

and most of them are unfortunately not as funny as connor.

tom is being a little shit.

with no moves left, shiv tells him she's pregnant.

it's not entirely unreasonable of tom to ask if it's even true, or if it's a tactic telling him that, but he's still a little shit for doing it.

i hate hate hate that we only got like four minutes of shiv girlbossing before she was back to doing everything wrong again... i support women's wrongs, but c'mon:(((

connor is by far my favorite part of this episode.

i just think they are neat<3

ken has his sister's back and i could rewatch those few seconds over and over and over.

fuck tom and his stupid touch screens.

and fuck roman too.

basically, there's a fire in wisconsin and ballots have been lost. historically, those votes have been overwhelmingly democrat, but roman wants them to call wisconsin for mencken, disregarding the burnt up ballots altogether.

he sends his talking points to ravenhead, who goes on an on-air rant, and the rest of the sibs take to the floor at ATN as well, much to greg's dismay.

shiv tries to threaten greg so that he doesn't tell her brothers about her plans with mattson.

as much as i love shiv threatening to pull greg's organs out his asshole, it isn't very effective.

there's an incident with wasabi.

i question a lot of decisions made in this episode, but perhaps most curious of all is the choice of lemon flavored la croix??????

i would laugh more at this if i wasn't so ridden with anxiety.

connor lands an embassadorship in the new mencken administration.

willa is skeptical of the fascism etc but still....

connor makes a speech. i love it when he does that.

we get a brief moment with the old guard, gerri not included.

we get basically no karl:/

instead we get roman being an asshole scene after scene after scene.

pls stop i can't take it anymore!!!

kendall is torn between team shiv and team roman, presumably because he can't decide what outcome will be most helpful to his own ambitions.

oh and there's the whole "my daughter might be in danger if mencken wins", but that seems to be secondary.

because he was vulnerable with shiv for a minute, he feels even more betrayed when he learns about her plans with mattson.

from greg of course. fucking greg.

the hugging era is truly a thing of the past.

i wish i had more jokes, but honestly this episode just made me very, very sad.

roman, ken and tom decide to call the election for mencken, despite shiv's desperate attempts.

and i just have to say, i know shiv isn't altruistic. i know she thinks a jimenez win will benefit her more than mencken will. i knooooow.

it's still very sad.

they call it for mencken.

me every single election night.

roman is very much in the camp of nothing fucking matters, and i guess he is right in a way.

it won't really matter to him or kendall.

it will for sophie, though. it will for jess.

ouffff....

roman now has a direct line into the west wing.

that being said, i don't think he's a very reliable partner for them.

in the end, mencken will do what is good for mencken. the same goes for roman.

i think ken might end up regretting this whole endeavor very, very soon.

tom becomes the face of this political scandal.

can't wait for it to bite him in the arse.

shiv makes a final rallying cry to mattson, but it somehow feels hollow to me.

this shiv girlie is starting to lose hope.

anyway, rava doesn't want ken to come over to see the kids because he prioritized his own project of becoming his dad over keeping them safe.

i guess i agree with him that the poison does, perhaps, drip down.

what a depressing episode!

i'm glad we are getting something to celebrate next week - logan's funeral wiii !!

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scarletttries · 2 years

Text

Party Favour (Succession Request)

Pairing: Tom x Greg x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit, threesome, dom/sub dynamics so please avoid reading if that's something that might upset you :)

Word Count: 3.3k

Request: "hi!! can I request some tomgreg x reader smut with meandom!tom and softdom!greg? something where the reader is being a little bratty at some business event or party or something and just trying to push their buttons and they teach her a lesson when they get home? love love love your writing ❤️

Author's Note: Thank you for another fun succession request! This is my first Tom/Greg request so I hope you enjoy it, and it's what you expected!

Party Favour

Another Saturday night, another elaborate party held in one of a dozen country houses owned by the Roy family. Another night of smiling warmly at Greg as you kept to yourself, and trying not to make too much eye contact with your married, older, boss Tom. It had been a few months since an office party had lead to an eye-opening night with them both, their competing affections intoxicating, until you were completely and hopelessly theirs.

Tonight was no exception: you circled the bar holding a glass of champagne that cost more than your car, not that you drove yourself anywhere these days, and making small talk with what you were sure must be some of the richest men in the world. Greg had seen the small crowd of older men forming around you, their interest in a young, beautiful woman from Waystar not surprising, but unacceptable to him nonetheless. Swooping over as fast as his lanky frame would allow, he appeared by your side, attempting a serious expression as he whispered in your ear,

"Hey, uh, pretend we need to have a work conversation." His tone was unsure as he spoke, jealous of your newly formed disciples, but still uncertain of his position in your unusual arrangement. You nodded politely at his request, turning to men around you apologetically,

"Please excuse me gentleman, something needs my attention, it's been a pleasure." Appeased by your charming goodbye they began to disperse, leaving you with a now much happier Greg, smiling down at you with tangible relief.

"Thanks for the rescue Greg, I thought they were going to be following me round all night." You teased, watching the blush form on his cheeks as you beamed up at him, his carefree smile turning to a concerned frown before long.

"What exactly is a social media emergency Greg?" Roman barked out sardonically, watching him shift uncomfortably as Tom followed quickly behind.

"I was thinking the same thing, is there really anything so urgent we need one of our 'non-Roy' employees here on a weekend." Tom's tone was sarcastic as he smirked at the two of you, wanting to make you squirm before ever even got you alone. Roman laughed at his question before you formed your response, playing Tom at his own game, despite knowing it would never end well for you.

"I suppose I don't really need to be here for work, but Greg asked me to come as his date." Your tone was sacarine sweet as Tom's smug face dropped, watching as your fingers interlaced with Greg's sweetly as you shone up at him. Greg's eyes met your, inescapable smile spreading across his face at the adoration in your eyes, everything around him long forgotten for a second as he savoured the moment of affection and normalcy.

"Wow Greg, you managed to weasel your way into a job AND a girlfriend at Waystar, you might just be a Roy afterall." Roman laughed dryly, tipping his glass all the way back to get the last drops before nodding your way towards the bar. "(Y/n), you're coming to the bar with me so I can ask you disgusting questions about Greg." Giving you no time to argue as he pushed past. You turned to follow him, but not before allowing yourself a glance at Tom. His jaw was clenched so firmly you could see the veins in his neck bulging as his knuckles turned white against his glass, frustration nearly enough to smash it entirely as he turned his attention to Greg.

"You've got a girlfriend have you Greg?" Manic look in his eye, making him recoil slightly into himself,

"I didn't even say anything Tom, it was all her!" He mumbled pathetically, a tinge of guilt for not standing up for you, as Tom smiled darkly,

"Oh, you'll both be getting a reminder of your place, don't you worry."

---

You could feel Tom's eyes on the back of your neck for the rest of the evening, knowing it was only a matter of time until he came over to make you regret your little comment. His marriage was a sensitive topic at the best of times, but flaunting yours and Greg's freedom to flirt in public right in front of him had probably taken it a little bit too far. Still, that's what he deserved for trying to embarass you at a work party. As the night grew darker and the crowds grew thinner, you found Greg returning to your side more and more, relishing in the opportunity of a night of showing off the fact you two were together, wrapping an arm timidly around your waist and fetching you a fresh drink whenever the glass threatened to dry up. At the first stifled yawn, Greg was scooping your hand up in his, leading you down the hall to his room for the night, cooing softly that is was time for you both to 'relax' for the night. As you stepped through the door he quickly shut it behind you, locking it in a swift motion and looking at you almost apologetically as Tom cleared his throat, announcing his presence in the dark room, perching on the edge of the dark mahogany desk that filled one corner of the room.

"Come here (y/n)." He said sternly, voice thick with tension as you considered turning for the door, before deciding against pushing even more of his buttons. You stepped forward slowly, Greg looming behind you like a shadow, ensuring you weren't going anywhere but into Tom's outstretched arms.

"I.." you started to argue, quietened by a shushing noise from Tom, finger curling towards himself to usher you nearer. As you finally stepped into his grasp, he grabbed your waist, spinning you over his lap quickly, holding you so firmly you couldn't even fight against his grip.

"Darling, did you know half the party's talking about how you've got yourself a boyfriend?" His words were laced with venom as his hand grazed over the inside of your thighs, pulling your dress up over your back so you ass was exposed to him. You voice caught in your throat, unsure of what to say to stop yourself ending up in more trouble. You looked up at Greg pleadingly, only to find him staring down at you with a hungry grin that only made you tremble more.

"What do you think your boyfriend would say if he knew I was doing this." Tom continued, as his hand smacked firmly over your exposed ass, the pain rippling through you as Greg watched on in awe.

"Tom. I didn't mean it." Your voice cracked out, earning another sharp tap across your fleshy cheeks as he cut you off,

"I don't want to hear anything from you right now, silly little slut." He spat back, landing another smack you could feel building in white, hot heat against his previous hand prints.

"Tom" Greg started, unsure what he wanted to ask for, the sight of you powerless and pouting stirring up the desire to keep you laying in front of him forever, but his aching need to touch you winning out. Before any other words could form between his lips Tom smiled up at him,

"Good catch Greg, I did buy her these," running his finger lightly over your lace panties, etching circles in the fabric over your entrance, feeling your core react to his touch through the dampening material. "I don't think she deserves them right now." His finger hooked under the material, the sensation of his soft touch where you wanted it most making you jolt against him, a perfect contrast to dull ache spreading over your ass. The thin fabric was ripped away unceremoniously, leaving a slick trail glistening down over your inner thigh, Tom humming contently at the sight.

"You like getting punished by me don't you?" he teased, running his fingers along the shining mark before slamming down against your cheeks again. You nodded, fighting back a sob and hoping your quiet submission would get his fingers back to where you ached for him.

"Well that's too bad, considering I'm not your little boyfriend." He spat, "Let's see if he can get you this wet," plunging his finger inside you as a loud moan escaped your lips at the intrusion, your hips bucking to meet his touch, wet patch between your thighs spreading with his every motion. He withdrew his finger to a whimper, before leading you to your feet, an awestruck Greg watching his moments, palming himself roughly through his straining trousers.

"Come take my spot Greg, since that's clearly what you want to do. And let's get these off so we don't risk you ruining them." He mocked, pushing Greg to land where he sat on the desk, tugging at the fabric waistband until his aching erection sprung free of the material, Greg gasping in relief as the cold air met the drops of pre-cum smeared across his tip. Turning his attention to you, Tom quickly tugged the straps of your dress off your shoulders, letting it fall to the ground so you had nothing on you but his greedy stare. He held your hips lightly as he stepped backwards, leading you towards Greg, but never taking his eyes off your form.

"Now be a good girl and sit." His smile was smug as you settled over Greg's lap, back pressing against his chest as you sunk down onto his throbbing cock. Tom's hands stayed settled on your hips as the two of your gasped at the sensation, the relief of your bodies being interlocked again. You tried to roll your hips, chasing the feeling Tom's finger had stirred inside you, but his grip on your hips held you still in place, voice echoing commandingly,

'Don't move yet Greg, neither of you move without my say so." You heard Greg whimper behind you, eyes clenched shut as he tried to follow Tom's instructions, the pleasure of being buried inside you almost too sweet a feeling not to chase. You whined as you tried to move against Tom's grip, aching for friction, the fullness not enough on its own to bring you the pleasure you would crave.

"Greg's not enough on his own is he (y/n)?" Tom asked pointedly, licking his lips as he watched your thighs clench and release, desperate to feel the pressure inside you build. You shook your head,

"No Tom, I need you too." You pleaded, big eyes meeting his, frantic desperation in your voice.

"Are you going to be a good girl?" He replied, releasing one hand from your hip and bringing it just about you clit, hovering just out of reach.

"Yes!" you almost screamed, "I'll be YOUR good girl Tom."

He grinned, wide and manic, as he finally brought his fingers to play with your throbbing button, rubbing it in rapid circles, letting your hips buck into his touch. Greg moaned out from behind you, the movement of your shaking hips driving his dick deeper inside you as the heat inside you both began to finally build. Tom praised you as your hips rocked towards him, his fingers spreading slick across your clit as he worked you up into a frenzy with his expert touch. Your eyes fluttered shut as your thighs began to shake, Greg's hips twitching behind you as you each approached climax, guided by Tom's rough touches. And then he snatched his hand away, watching you whimper pathetically as your orgasm began to drift back out of reach, entrance pulsing and aching for release.

"No, Tom, please let me come." You cried out, legs too shaky from the tension to be able to follow him as he stepped backwards, Greg echoing your words as he sat pinned beneath you. He laughed at the desperate plea, shaking his head as he licked your juices off his fingers,

"I only let MY girl cum, I thought you were Greg's girl now." He teased cruelly, watching you shake your head in desperation, need for his touch overriding your brain cells, barely able to form a coherent thought.

"She needs both of us man." Greg sighed out in frustration, desperate to spill his release inside you, the sight of you squirming on his lap making it difficult to hold back. Tom hummed thoughtfully at his words,

"Is that true (y/n)? You need both of us?" He turned back to you, watching as you nodded wildly, thighs rubbing together in your discomfort. "You'll just have to prove it then." He smirked, finally undoing his belt as letting his trousers and boxers fall to his feet, revealing his impressive erection as he sat on the edge of the large double bed at to the side of you. Greg helped you to you feet, both of you suppressing the whines that threatened to escape as he pulled out of you without satisfaction. You made your way over to Tom on shaky legs, settling into his lap as he patted the tops of his thighs. Even with your cunt dripping with excitement, taking Tom's length still had your pussy stretching around him, hitting spots inside you that almost gave you the friction you needed.

"You take me so well baby." He moaned, wrapping his arms around your back to lean you into him, spreading his thighs and motioning for Greg to step forward. "Now show me how well you take both of us." He cooed, running one finger, still sticky with your slick over your tight hole. Yours and Greg's eyes both widened, new territory for you both as you looked at Tom in disbelief.

"Now now, don't look at me like that, you said you needed us both, so you're going to take us both like a good little slut, and then maybe I'll let you cum." He said darkly, dipping his fingers into the tight ring of muscle and chuckling as he felt your pussy clench at the sensation.

Greg stepped forward, his own fingers replacing Tom, who held you tight as Greg began to pulse his finger in and out you, watching you tremble and shake at even that level of sensation. "I don't know if I can," You whined, heat inside you already building from the way Greg touched you gently, kissing the back of your neck as he lined himself up with your previous unused entrance.

"You can take it (y/n), you're going to like it, it's going to feel good." Greg soothed as his aching erection began to push into you, making you a level of full you'd never felt before. It was like there was nowhere you could move, completely pinned by the two cocks inside you, waves of sensation emanating from deep inside your core.

"Well done (y/n), now I believe you." Tom said, tone sweeter than before as his fingers found your clit again, returning to the firm circles he knew would bring you quickly to the edge. Moans spilled from your mouth as your hips moved of their own accord, each buck causing Tom and Greg to hit new spots inside you that only had your body shaking more.

"Good girl, fucking yourself on us." Tom mocked, hips still as you used them both to chase your pleasure, the steady rhythm of his fingertips, and the pressure of Greg's twitching cock inside you finally bringing your long awaited release.

"Fuck!" You cried out as your thighs trembled, holes clenching around the men inside you as your climax hit you hard, electricity shooting through every cell of your body. Your hips rocked harder against Tom's hand as he kept his rhythm watching intently as you rode out your high before slowly coming back to earth.

"Not yet Greg." He said firmly as he watched the younger man hips begin to shake, the tight, hot feeling of being in your ass more intense than he'd ever experienced before. Your eyes grew wide at the instruction, slight panic across your face obvious as Tom's fingers only quickened their pace around your clit, rubbing harder as overstimulation began to set in. You writhed in his lap at the sensitivity as Tom began to buck his hips into you, hitting new spots deep inside you that had high pitched moans leaving your mouth in a steady stream. From behind you Greg's lips found your neck, adding yet anything overwhelming sensation to the experience, quickly increasing the pressure in your abdomen again. Every thrust of Tom's hips sent you crashing back down onto Greg's cock, clutching Tom's broad shoulders as if you life depended on it as you felt him brush that spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

"Tom!" You moaned as your second orgasm came, your legs trembling against his as your core tensed around them both. Your whole body was aflame with the burning passion of the two men, every inch of you dominated by their hands, mouths, and cocks. As you rode through your second orgasm Tom coaxed you, calling you his good girl, teasing your clit to keep the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

"Please" you managed to moan out as you realised his hips and fingers weren't stopping, the mix of pleasure and pain from between your legs more than you could take.

"Please what pretty girl? You were begging to come earlier, I'm just giving you what you want." Tom responded eagerly, his hips bucking into harder, sticking his fingers in his mouth before returning them to your throbbing clit the new level of wetness making you jolt against his touch. The sudden shake running through your body was too much from Greg, who groaned loudly, hot breath spilling over your neck as he released inside you, the feeling of his warmth dripping out of your hole as he pulled out making your entrance flutter.

"Good effort Greg, but (y/n) needs a real man to teach her a lesson." Tom stated, using the increased room around you to grip your ass hard with one hard, lifting and slamming you onto his cock with no respite, while he continued his assault on your clit, feeling the familiar shake of your thighs begin again.

"See, I told you you could do it. Make it a good one for me (y/n), I want that pussy to milk me dry." He groaned as he felt your walls start to clench around him, too fucked out to respond to his words, except with the pants and whines that left you of their own accord. As the coil inside you snapped for the third time, each orgasm building in intensity, you felt a rush of liquid, gushing over Tom's lap as he rocked deep inside you.

"Oh, good girl, I didn't know we had a squirter here Greg, lucky us." The last few words grew strained as his voice faltered along with the rhythm of his hips, a deep moan breaking out from inside his chest as he released inside you, pushing his hand against your stomach to feel the outline of his cock as it twitched inside you, sending you crashing forward against his chest as you rode out your own high. As Tom eased you off his lap, discarding your limp body on the bed beside you, every part of you was exhausted, aching, and alive with sensation. You could barely raise your head to see Tom and Greg stood over you, staring at your spent form, their cum dropping from your holes, muscles spasming as Tom drew a gentle circle on your inner thigh.

"See, you're much better company like this. Guess you just needed someone to fuck that attitude out of you." Tom mocked, readying himself to return to the party. "Why don't you stay here and rest of a minute (y/n) and then come find me when you're ready to be my good girl again. We'll see how many times you can gush like that for me." His tone devilish as he scooped your discarded panties off the floor and into his pocket, knowing that you'd be dripping his cum down your bare thighs as you rejoined the party later, wondering how easy it would be to slip his hand under your dress unnoticed while you tried to form sentences for an audience.

#one shot #writing #requests #fanfiction #succession imagines #succession headcanons #succession imagine #succession hbo #succession #tom x greg #tom x greg x reader #greg hirsch #tom wombsgans

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loveandthings11 · 7 months

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How Deep My Love Goes, Chapter 12

Read on AO3 Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Fic Summary: A Kenrava-focused fix-it alongside canon 💗

Chapter Summary: SEASON 2 ERA! Roman makes his decision. Kendall and Stewy kick off the business media frenzy around the hostile takeover. Kendall works on saving Vaulter against all odds. Rava and Kendall take a trip to her parents’ house. Featuring Kendall in glasses!

New Year's Day

In here, it’s surreal.

Kendall looks over at his suit jacket flung over the armchair, Brioni pants wrinkled on the floor. He sees Rava’s messy hair draped over her peaceful face, lipstick smeared the way he wanted it. A pile of blue silk is by the door because it wasn’t staying on past the click of the lock. A news broadcast comes over the radio and he turns it off. He doesn’t need to hear it- there’s no news bigger than what he did yesterday.

Outside, Logan’s calling him a druggie. Shiv’s rolling her eyes as “insane,” “unhinged,” spill out of her lips and Tom nods at everything he hears. Outside, Roman’s pacing nervously, Tabitha’s pouring Bailey’s in her coffee and watching him decide his future. Greg’s looking around, plotting, deciding nothing and waiting for the next possibility to walk in. Marcia’s shaking her head, Connor’s condemning his little brother for the loss of family harmony that wasn’t really there. Outside, they’re waiting.

But in here, Kendall is a king. It’s New Year’s Day and no one can touch him. His birthright is coming. He’s never loved the sunrise so much.

The door knocker thunks on the heavy wooden door and Kendall gets up to answer it because kings don’t hide. Roman’s right there when he pulls it partially open like Austerlitz deja vu.

“So, I kind of have to talk to you,” Roman starts.

Kendall glances back at Rava, still asleep, and steps outside the door, closing it quietly behind him and turning to look skeptically at his brother. He’s feeling generous enough to give him a chance to explain what happened.

“Uh, yeah, I guess you do have to talk to me. Where were you last night?” Kendall asks. Roman’s reluctant and rubs the back of his head.

“I was talking to Dad, okay?”

Kendall smiles into the scoff, like he knew it.

“Right. Okay. Yeah, you know what, bro, not everyone’s cut out for this. So don’t worry about it. I’m sure Dad will find a nice little cage for you at the studio again.”

Roman rolls his eyes and tries not to take the bait.

“Maybe I can tell you some shit you didn’t already know, can you consider that?” Kendall stays quiet against his instinct and Roman sighs. “Look. I don’t think it’s outside the realm of possibility that you will crash and burn, because, I mean-“ he gestures at Kendall. “-you’re you.”

“That’s not going to happen. Do you have a point?” Kendall replies evenly. It won’t take much to tip things into being overwhelming and he wants to focus on the good parts of this day.

“Fucking- obviously,” Roman says, irritated. He continues slowly. “How would you feel about me, maybe, giving you some information- when I deem it’s good for me- and maybe just generally not totally fucking you?”

“Wow. That’s a really great deal for nobody,” Kendall says. “I told you before, Dad’s going to do nothing for you like he did nothing for me. Dude, I had an actual job at Waystar and he did what he did. I mean, what- what do you think he’s going to do to you?”

“I don’t fucking know, Ken, but I don’t want to kill him like you do.”

He feels the barb’s intended pain and really wishes Roman wouldn’t think that.

“What- how do you not understand how much I didn’t want to do this?” he asks incredulously. He shakes his head and tries to connect in a more gentle, intense way, looking right into Roman’s eyes. “I didn’t. But it’s happening. And I am taking over. Dad’s time is ending. You can still hop on the lifeboat. Heading to dry land, bro.”

“Well, maybe stop this attempt at poetry and listen to me. This can help you. Look, I planned the vote with you, I actually- puke- agree with certain parts of your vision-“

“Because my vision is fucking good-“ Kendall interjects.

“-And buying stations to indoctrinate some local tinfoil hat fucks is not the- the- thing. But I am not risking my life for a ‘lifeboat’ made of, like, popsicle sticks and your childhood dreams. So, take it or leave it. I might save you by telling you valuable shit.”

“Or you might try to sink me.”

“If you annoy me. Which is highly likely, I’m just being honest.”

Kendall rubs his forehead.

“Negotiating against yourself. Good luck out there. Well, I’m obviously not going to tell you anything. You’re asking to be a double agent. I don’t even- who does that? Honestly, I can get information from other sources.” Kendall remembers his talk with Greg last night, his bumbling blackmail that Kendall found both amusing and concerning. But he knows Greg’s loyalty will go to the highest bidder. If he buys it, it’s his. With Roman it’s more complicated.

Roman tries a new, genuine appeal.

“This…” Roman gestures between them, “this has been nice. Like, is there a way where it doesn’t have to be… you know?”

Kendall feels torn. It has been nice. He’d missed Roman when he’d been in LA, and they hardly see each other even when they’re both in New York.

“You know I wanted you on board,” Kendall says with disappointment. He remembers that it’s not only his choice. “I think you’re being wishy washy, but I’m pretty sure Stewy and Sandy will have stronger language than that to describe it.”

Roman raises his eyebrows and looks down and away. It makes Kendall feel achy and want to change his mind.

“Okay. Open offer.” Roman gives him an unreadable look before turning and walking toward the dining room for breakfast.

The slight bump of the wood when Kendall closes the door upon re-entering the bedroom makes Rava stir.

“Mmm. What are you doing? Come back.” She’s never liked that he gets up before her and he’s spent most weekend mornings of his adult life as a pillow for an extra hour or two. It’s always been his time to secretly send Saturday and Sunday work emails, but he doesn’t think he can even pretend to want to lie down now. He’s vibrating with energy, conflict, worries, excitement. He goes to sit on the bed and brushes her hair off her face. She softly holds his hand with both of hers and he smiles at how sweet she is when she’s still half-asleep.

“You want to get breakfast?” he asks quietly. “Come with me. Not here, we’ll go somewhere.”

“Mmhmm.” She opens her eyes and squints at him. “Okay. Are the kids up?”

“I don’t know, I just got up myself.”

“Okay.” She sits up with the sheet loose around her and he suddenly needs to be close and scoops her toward him for a comforting hug. It’s going to be okay. She’s still sleepy and melts into him easily for a minute as he breathes in her scent. She rolls out of bed and he admires her bare skin as she walks around looking for the robe she’d brought. “Where is that robe..?” she asks.

“I’m not telling you,” he replies, eyes not leaving her body.

“Okay. Great, thank you,” she smiles sarcastically and nods along before spotting the robe and wrapping it around herself.

After throwing on a pair of dark jeans and a beige sweater and looking effortlessly chic, Rava goes into the kids’ room and Kendall gets ready to sneak past the sure-to-be-awkward breakfast to find something in town before flying home.

……

The kids sleep in a back bedroom of the jet while Rava dozes with her head on Kendall’s shoulder. Jet lag, post-wedding exhaustion, and hangovers are winning this day for everyone else. Kendall puts his arm around her and silently practices his talking points for the news appearances he and Stewy will be flooded with once they’re back in the city. Stewy smirks at his phone as he texts and sips coffee with his soft leather loafers up on a footstool and blankets draped over him on his reclined seat. Roman had declared that he was going with Tabitha on Logan’s jet because Dad said so, so it’s just the three of them. Stewy looks up and nods at Kendall’s notecards.

“You ready?” Stewy whispers to Kendall. “PGN first.” Kendall nods seriously. “So what’s up with your brother?” Stewy inquires, keeping his voice down. “He pass out in a bathroom with his dick in his hand?”

“Uh, he went to talk to Dad. He came to me this morning and offered to inform on him, but obviously he’s just doing Dad’s bidding now,” Kendall reports a little emotionlessly.

Stewy’s eyes widen and he tilts his head with a slight look of disbelief.

“He got stuck, huh? Cool, Sandy’s gonna love that. It’ll look great for me that I vouched for him. Fucker.”

“Yeah. I know. I told him we’re not gonna talk to him.”

Stewy considers and crosses his legs, taking a bite of the croissant on the table next to him.

“You know what? Tell him we’ll take his information.”

Kendall perks up a bit.

“…yeah?”

Kendall picks up his phone, glad that someone else also thinks it’s a good plan to stay in touch.

“Yeah. But Ken,” Stewy says in his relaxed warning tone. “Don’t tell him anything."

“I won’t.”

After a nap and more quiet prep on the long flight back to New York, Kendall and Stewy meet back up at the entrance to PGN. The weather is getting quite chilly now but they don’t even notice as they go inside. They walk together onto the news floor when the elevator doors open, both in dark suits and feeling exactly as psyched as they’d always imagined they would be.

“Fucking… PGN. Hope they let me out alive,” Kendall chuckles. It’s not even close to his first time on TV, but it’s his first time doing it purely for his own business interests, and it’s certainly his first time on the rival network. He feels a bit untethered. Unleashed.

“Don’t worry. It’s the perfect first stop. We’ll be taken care of,” Stewy says knowingly as they make it into the labyrinth of a studio.

They approach the cameras via a long, dark hallway. The doorway shines blindingly bright light down the center. He fidgets with his notecards as they forge ahead in the weird spotlight.

The light is overwhelming all around them once they get inside. The makeup artists swarm and suddenly powder puffs and combs and chatter surround them both as they sit down in director’s chairs. A stylish and nervous-looking thirty-something PGN producer scurries over and tucks her light brown hair behind her ear as she smiles at Stewy. His eyes are instantly glued to hers. He gives her a serene smile back and Kendall can see her blush a bit.

“Stewy, I’m so glad you’re here,” she says sweetly. “I mean, we all are.” She extends her hand to Kendall. “You’re Kendall! Hi, I’m Lena,” she introduces herself, only briefly taking her eyes off Stewy’s face.

“Hey, yeah. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

“Ken, Lena’s here to make you seem like you know almost as much as me,” Stewy says smoothly. Lena giggles and Stewy twinkles at her. “She’s brilliant. Taught me everything I know about looking incredible on TV.”

Lena looks pleased and flustered for a second as she reaches back to check the claw clip in her hair.

“Oh, well, you’re a natural.” She gives him a pretty smile and gazes at him again for a second too long before forcing her attention back to the task at hand. “Um, so, I have some talking points for you both from your PR team.” She pulls some printed sheets from her tote bag and hands them to Kendall and Stewy. “Normally we wouldn’t do this, but, you know.” She drops her eyes after such a clear flirty moment. “I’ll let you go over them, and I’ll be right over here if you have any questions. About filming,” she clarifies. “I can’t answer questions about your PR. Obviously,” she laughs a little breathlessly. She turns to walk away and almost trips over a cable before going to stand with the other members of her team on the other side of the room and gazing over not-so-subtly.

Stewy watches her go as his eyes wander from the floor to her hair. Kendall looks over at him.

“Okay. Had to hit PGN first,” he smirks.

“You and your precious optics know this is where we have to start.” Stewy smiles a little. “But, yeah, it helps to have a supportive environment.”

“Uh-huh.” Kendall smiles and feels a pang of missing Rava.

“Anka was too freaked out by everything, you know? Who throws sex parties with severe anxiety issues? Lena’s… you know.”

“Yeah. Very chill,” Kendall deadpans. “She might have a heart attack if she overhears this conversation.”

“She’s like that every time she talks to me. It’s funny. She takes five minutes to type a sentence in a text,” Stewy shrugs. Kendall decides not to point out that Stewy could only know that if he watches the three dots for five minutes.

“Basket cases are your thing,” Kendall chuckles.

“That’s true, Ken, I do like spending time with disastrous people,” Stewy smiles pointedly. “It emphasizes to others how together I am.”

Kendall nods, playing along. It is a little nerve-wracking to think about the high expectations that everyone watching will have of him. Right now, maybe twenty people know what’s going on. In five minutes, it’ll be millions.

“Right. Hang on a second.” Kendall gets up and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He dials Rava and is glad to hear her voice.

“Hey! How’s the interview prep?” she asks.

“Hey. Good,” he confirms. “We’re about to go on. You watching?”

“Of course,” she replies. She’s a little apprehensive about the whole thing. Logan isn’t nice when he’s threatened.

“Good. Good. Hey, tonight can we just do takeout and hideout?”

“Yes. That sounds so good.” She pauses and he's quiet. “You okay? Worried about this?” She’s always advised him to think about the incoming peacefulness after the big event to calm jitters.

“Uh, kind of,” he admits. “I dunno. It’s great but it’s also, like… this makes it real.”

“There you go,” Rava smiles. “It is real.”

“Yeah. Fuck.”

A man wearing a headset pops his head into the side room.

“Two minutes!” he says.

“Thank you,” Kendall answers. “Okay, time to go. Time to make it fuckin’ happen.”

“Good luck!”

Kendall puts his phone in his pocket, walks back into the space and sits down next to Stewy at the desk set. The lights go down around the set and they look at each other in a moment of pure exhilaration. Memories flash through their minds of being seventeen and sneaking liquor in the Roys’ sprawling gardens while discussing their plans to take over the world.

A voice comes from the dark and everyone else goes quiet. Kendall closes his eyes for a second.

“Okay, we’re live in three, two….”

The on-air light lights up.

It’s a new world.

“I’m here with Kendall Roy, former Waystar Royco executive and son of current CEO Logan Roy, and Stewy Hosseini, partner at Maesbury Capital,” the reporter begins. “Kendall, we’ll start with you. You must feel strongly about this to go up against your father this way. What made you do it?”

Kendall focuses every bit of his energy on his response, breathes in, and lets the words he’s been repeating in his mind free.

“My father is a brilliant businessman. A true legend. And what he’s built here is unlike any other corporation in the world. His legacy can never be tarnished. In fact, one of the reasons Stewy and I decided to do this is to preserve it. The old ways of doing things are not viable in today’s world, and I can’t allow the firm to stay still when there’s a race all around it. I have always been of the mind that we need to move forward in order to shepherd Waystar Royco into the new era. I believe our focus on moving more deeply into the tech sector is critical to the success of the company moving forward and I am confident that I am the right person to lead us into the future as CEO.”

“Thank you. It must be an exciting moment for you. But how are things between you and your father?” she asks, clearly even more interested in this answer.

Kendall smiles, but it flickers. He knows this is the part everyone is listening to most closely.

“Uh, you know.” He keeps smiling uneasily into it. “They’re- we’re good. This is just the way things are, business-wise.”

“Great. And Stewy-“

Kendall practically blacks out in his mind while Stewy gets into the financial details. They’re really doing it.

About an hour and a half later, Kendall walks into the apartment and breathes it in for a moment. He’s back and it’s all under way. He walks down the hall toward the family room and Rava, who beckons him over to the couch.

He opens his arms and smiles for a minute on the other side of the room.

“How fucking amazing is this?” he says.

“It actually is,” she says honestly. She can’t believe he’s finally taken a bold step against Logan.

They’re both feeling exhausted after a weekend full of exertion, and he flops down on the couch next to her and nuzzles into her neck for a minute. She smells like fresh conditioner and light perfume.

“What a day you’ve had,” she smiles as he lets himself fall into her lap and she runs her fingers through his hair.

“Yeah. Can’t believe it.” He means it. Things have begun to feel vividly real. His phone buzzes and he pulls it from his pocket and takes a look.

“Text from Roman,” he says. “They’re all at the Hamptons house.” He pauses and feels a bit left out even though he knows it would make no sense for him to be there right now. Before he can say anything else, his phone vibrates again and he almost laughs out loud at the next message.

“Shiv?! Rav, Dad’s having individual meetings and he just called in Shiv. For what? Political advice? Is Roman making this shit up? She said she’s with Gil. She changed her mind already? Well, she’s already fucked herself if she’s going back and forth, politics to business. Dad won’t go for that, right?”

He sits up and stares at his phone.

“Well, you don’t know what he’s thinking. Trying to read his mind isn’t going to work here,” Rava says. “Don’t drive yourself crazy. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

He sighs quietly to himself and realizes that Dad actually is picking a new him this time. It’s just what he’d previously feared with Roman, only now it’s worse. It's Shiv, who is so inexperienced that she might believe Dad would pick someone with no experience. It doesn’t matter, he reminds himself, because he’s going to claim his rightful place. There is no new him.

But he pictures Shiv in Dad’s Summer Palace office all the same.

He stews over the image for a few minutes. He feels jealous and protective of his little sister at once and struggles to remember to focus his energy on his own plans. A few minutes after Rava goes to have a snack, his phone rings. His skin prickles and his heart races when he sees Dad on his screen. He looks around a bit wildly at first, wondering where Rava is and realizing there’s not enough time. Instinct takes over and he answers it.

“Dad?” he manages.

“Kendall.” Logan’s voice is calm and almost eerily pleasant. “How is it out there in the cold?”

“It’s-“ he tries to speak. “You-you know, Dad, I didn’t want to do what I did- I-“

“I’ve been getting a lot of advice,” Logan starts smoothly, slowly. “Laird… Shiv… anyone with the stones to try to stand up to me tells me I should sell.”

The confusion is clouding Kendall’s previously sharpened mind.

“Uh-huh?”

“I was wondering- what do you think?”

Kendall thinks he can hear electricity crackle.

“Uh- what- what do you mean-“

“Well, you’ve been inside for a while. What do you think I should do?” The mind games are overwhelming.

“W- what is this, a joke? I don’t- Dad, we shouldn’t even be talking-“

“Enough. It was a good move. Now it’s time to come back in.” Kendall can barely believe what he’s hearing.

“What- so you can keep things exactly the same and never do what you promised?” He shakes his head. “No.”

“Oh, cut your self-righteous shit,” Logan thunders. Kendall is intimidated into silence. “We’re gonna fight this. And I want you by my side. The deal is, if you can stop Sandy and Stewy, then I will make you the next chief executive of the firm, like we planned. You’re the one, son.”

Shock reverberates through Kendall’s body. He struggles to collect his thoughts, to breathe properly. When was his last breath? Has it been too long? He suddenly inhales and tries to summon his own words to Roman earlier this morning.

“It- it wasn’t true when you said it before. For eighteen months. For fucking- thirty-two years, you said it, and you took it back.”

“You made a mistake, Ken. With Vaulter. This is my company. I have the right.” Kendall thinks he should argue, then decides against it. But he can’t help himself.

“Vaulter was a solid buy. But sure. You have the right. So why should I believe this?” Part of him is yearning against his will for a definite answer he knows Logan would never give.

“Because now, we’ve got eyes on us. The news fucks, the shareholders. Thanks to you,” Logan grumbles. “Thing is, you know both sides, you have the years." Well, no fucking kidding, Kendall thinks. “This is rare. But you have leverage. Let’s get back to work,” Logan says. Kendall can practically feel the steamrolling and tries to keep himself upright.

He realizes his dad may not trust Roman. Roman knows what was going on with Kendall’s side too, but Logan wants to hear it from Kendall. His head is swirling with thoughts. Is he on speaker? Is everyone listening and waiting to laugh if he says yes? He knows it’s stronger to end the call right now. But… the office. The chair. The respect, the head of the boardroom. The authority, the job, the usefulness. The fulfillment. He nervously grabs the edge of the couch cushion he’s sitting on.

He’s dying to say yes. But even in the face of all the temptation, he knows it could only end in humiliation if he went back. His dad would think of all kinds of ways to make him pay, all kinds of tests, a round of boar on the floor where he’s the only one begging for scraps. Rava’s disappointment, Stewy’s disdain... he can’t do it.

“Dad- I- I really wish I could trust you. I mean, you know I… I just- I can’t.”

Logan’s anger is almost as scary on the phone as it is in person.

“But you can trust Sandy, enemy of this family your whole life? And Stewy, who wouldn’t even go against me in your little board vote? But not me. Not the one who’s given you everything you’ve ever had. Is that right?”

Kendall’s heart is pounding. It’s terrifying, but he’s steeling himself.

“Yes, Dad. I wanted to believe you. But after everything the last couple of months, I can’t.” He takes a deep breath. “This is on my terms now.”

Logan’s voice turns violent. “I’ll grind you into dust. You’ll be nothing. You’ll finally realize it.”

Kendall tries to keep the words out, but they crash around him in waves for a terrible moment. He remembers every late night spent working, the entire year in Shanghai spent doing everything he could to make long-distance work with Rava, the times defending his kids from Logan’s derision, all to be treated like this. He feels the habitual need to remind himself of the good moments too, but hearing what his dad just said makes him stop himself. The fury, the threats, the derogatory comments about his recovery, his family, his strategies. His whole being. He leaves his body for a moment to say it.

“You’re a fuckin’ beast.”

Kendall hangs up and drops his phone onto the couch cushion. His hands are shaking and he knows his voice probably was, too. He nervously walks into the kitchen to find Rava and she tilts her head in a question when she sees him.

“Dad called,” he breathes. “He’s going to fight. But so are we.”

……

That night, they lie in bed in the dark. Blackout curtains have made it velvety dark in their room. They don’t always use the blackouts, but Kendall pressed the button to close them tonight. Rava looks expectantly at the spot she can feel him lying, wondering why he's so far. She reaches her arm out and feels for his head, lightly patting its crown.

“Hey,” she says softly. “What’s going on in here?”

She can hear him open his mouth and exhale.

“Do you think- this is dumb, but, do you think he even likes me? Like, as a person?” He pauses and hesitantly adds, “I don’t think he does.”

“Oh… Ken, of course he does.” She doesn’t know if Logan is capable of liking anyone, but he’s always been pretty obsessed with his son.

“No, I mean, well, thank you for- for saying that but like, really? If someone asked him what my good qualities were, what would he even say?”

“You have so many. You’re kind, you’re creative, you get inspired all the time-“

“But-” he shakes his head in a bit of embarrassment at this incredibly vulnerable moment. He’s glad it’s dark. “But he doesn’t like any of those things.”

“He never leaves you alone,” she says. “Just today, even when, from his perspective, you’ve been trying to destroy him for the last couple of months.”

“That’s not-“

“I know. But from his perspective,” she continues. “He tries to keep you leashed to him all the time. He always has.”

“But that’s like… sick,” Kendall replies uncertainly. “Yeah? That’s weird. People have told me that’s weird.”

They’ve talked about this before, but it’s been a few years. She remembers this kind of talk with less fondness than many of their other conversations.

“Yes. It’s weird. I mean, he isn’t normal or healthy. Obviously,” she lets out a mirthless chuckle. “But as much as he is capable of liking someone, I think he likes you.” Kendall is quiet, which is what he does when he sort of disagrees but doesn’t know how to argue. “He must like that you tend see the future in business.”

“I’m not sure that’s true.” Kendall wrings his hands at the thought of Vaulter being in his father’s power.

“It is! When have you ever been wrong about what direction to go in?” He’s quiet again, this time because there’s no counterargument. “You can’t argue that he likes that you have a sense of things!”

He can’t cheer for himself.

“I have a feeling he likes that quality more in other people than he likes it in me.” He lies there thinking of the people who don’t like him. The Canadians, the Vaulter staff, the art people… Roman? Shiv? He doesn’t say anything else but Rava can feel it.

The depth of his insecurity shouldn’t surprise her anymore, but it breaks her heart a little when it becomes so clear. She moves closer to him and lays her hand on his chest. She wants to tell him the validation from his father doesn’t matter, but she thinks when she’s said something for nearly two decades and it hasn’t sunk in, it might be time to give him what he wants instead of what he needs. Tonight, she can tell him a good truth instead of a hard one.

“You know he sees you as competition. Who else does he ever go toe-to-toe with? Hmm? And there is nothing your dad likes more than a completely insane business competition.”

She feels the vibration of a smile from him.

“Well, I can’t argue with that.”

“Yeah!” She says more cheerfully, grateful that her point landed. “You give him what he really wants. I actually think you might be the one person who doesn’t bore him.”

He considers that.

“I just… feel… this is going to ensure that he’ll never really trust me again. Like, I used to be his go-to. For everything.” Remembering the good moments he'd held off before makes him want to call Logan and tell him he wants to come back.

“I know," Rava says. "Don't forget what he did though-“ she uses a softer tone- “the takeover wasn’t the thing that changed his mind. He made the decision when he took back the announcement. And he did fire you. All i'm saying is you're not losing a close relationship right now. At the very least, you know he respects this."

He says nothing while he thinks over all of her ideas. He hears how negative he’s being and brings up something positive so she won’t think he’s a wet blanket.

“I guess… it’s true, he’s never accused me of boring him.”

“See? There you go. Come here.” She reaches for him and he rolls into her arms. She's glad it’s over and that she’s partially scrubbed the negative thoughts from his head for the night. His forehead rests on her shoulder as he wonders whether he should try to say what the even deeper problem is.

“It’s kind of fucking… hollow even if we win, though. If he never gives it to me, you know… if he never thought I could do it.”

His words float in the darkness for a moment.

“It would still be achieving what you’ve always wanted.”

“Well. You know, there were kind of two parts to what I wanted.”

“Yeah,” she says a little sadly.

“I- I know you think it shouldn’t matter,” he says hesitantly.

“I just wish it didn’t matter,” Rava says. They go quiet as she drapes her arm over him.

He’s had parts of this conversation with her and others over the years, with varying degrees of empathy reflected back. But this part has always been where no one could come with him, where no one hears him, no one understands.

…….

A few days later, Roman saunters up behind Kendall and Rava as they walk through the amusement park keeping an eye on Sophie and her friends at her birthday party.

“I’m here as a spy, in case you were wondering,” Roman announces. “Just here to check out whether Dad has anything to worry about. Obviously he doesn’t with this fucker in charge!” he adds loudly.

Rava shoots him a look.

“Dude,” Kendall sighs. The kids are here.

“Can we talk about what Sandy’s thinking the next steps are?” Roman asks impatiently.

“I’m here to enjoy my daughter’s birthday party. We’ll talk later.” Kendall glances at Rava for her approval. She’s glad to hear it even though she knows his head is full of strategy.

Sophie runs over and flings her arms around Kendall’s waist. He squeezes her and meets her eyes as she looks up at him.

“Can we make the wagon go faster?” she asks him. Kendall looks at the ride attendant as he adjusts his scarf. It’s getting colder outside.

“Is that possible?” he inquires. Rava leans in to talk to the attendant.

“No, no.” She looks at Sophie. “Honey, let’s stay safe, okay? We’re going to keep all the rides at their normal speeds.”

Sophie pouts for a moment and runs back to her friends. Rava follows to keep an eye on things and Roman smirks at Kendall.

“So, it must be fun to have no authority at home, no authority at work, you’re killin’ it!”

“You don’t understand responsibility,” Kendall replies dully.

“Nope, never been for me. I do understand having a personality though, which you have clearly lost!” He points at his brother for emphasis and is disappointed by his lack of reaction. “Hey, do you think Sophie thinks it’s weird that her grandpa isn’t at her birthday party?”

“Why, because he’s been so involved in his grandchildren’s lives before this?” Kendall almost smiles.

Roman snickers a little regretfully and they share a moment of dry humor.

“You know Shiv and Tom are here, keeping their distance.” Roman jerks his head behind him and to the left. Kendall looks alarmed.

“Uh, what? No. Is that- I mean, is she cool right now? What’s the deal with her and Dad?”

“I don’t fucking know, Tom’s here to be a freak and look at what he doesn’t have to deal with anymore because Firecrotch got him promoted to run the most important branch of the company,” Roman scoffs. Kendall glances back and calms down. They can’t do anything here.

“Well- I mean, it’s not really surprising that Tom’s at ATN now. Like… that figures.”

Roman’s eyes dance.

“Because he understands our ‘agricultural viewers?’” he says mockingly.

“Because he might actually believe some of that shit.”

“I believe that shit,” Roman says sardonically.

“You shouldn’t tell people that,” Kendall shoots back.

They are both glad for Connor’s interruption.

“Hey, hey! It's the traitor son," he says sarcastically. Roman snickers and Kendall grimaces. "Kenny, I got Sophie a few books I think she’d like to read. Counteract some of that propaganda they’re teaching her at Chapin.”

“Uh-huh. Okay, thanks Con,” Kendall says, letting it go. Roman jumps in.

“Do you think, maybe, you’re seen as susceptible to conspiracies because people see a weirdo living in the desert-“

“Oh, Romey, I love when you express your love for me,” Connor ruffles Roman’s hair and Roman makes a face as Connor walks away. Kendall stares over at Shiv and Tom, now joined by Greg.

“So… Greg talked to me at the wedding,” he starts slowly to gauge Roman’s reaction. He takes a deep breath. “I think he’s got something on Waystar.”

“What? For real? Like what?”

“I dunno- something with cruises. Maybe wolf pack stuff?”

A pained look crosses Roman’s face and he smooths his button-down under his coat.

“He doesn’t know shit.”

“I- I think he does, actually. He might have paperwork. I’m just saying, keep an eye on him, okay?” Kendall suggests.

“Blech. I don’t want to look at him. But fine.” Roman and Kendall both pause to watch Greg from afar.

“Uh, hey, can we be real for a second? Like, just sibs for a sec?” Kendall starts.

“That’s gonna be a no, but you’re going to say whatever overthought nonsense you have anyway.”

“Would you work at Waystar if not for Dad?” Kendall asks.

“Actually, I’d be the most highly-paid gigolo in the country and would laugh at your paltry c-suite millions. Or, like, your mailroom paychecks, which is much more accurately where you’d be without Dad.”

Kendall sighs.

“So, no,” Kendall prompts.

“No. What? I don’t know. Maybe. Who gives a shit? Who’s asking?”

“Me, dude. Relax. It’s not a trick.”

“So, what, you would work here without Dad?” Roman asks defensively.

“Honestly, yeah,” Kendall answers. “I think I’m good at it.”

“I think that’s up for debate.“

“Well, it’s not.” Kendall wishes he could ask Roman if Logan has ever mentioned his abilities, but he knows it would result in mockery instead of actual information. He drops the subject, but he knows Roman gets what it’s like to want Dad’s love and respect- Roman is even willing to spend his time doing a job he doesn’t care about in order to try to gain it- and that knowledge lightens the weight on his shoulders a bit.

…….

Kendall’s phone beeps and interrupts his call with Stewy. He checks and it’s Roman’s name.

“The fucking- informant is calling again,” he almost chuckles.

“Be careful, Ken,” Stewy warns before ending the call.

Kendall switches to the new call and hears that Roman’s voice is hushed and tense.

“Ken, Dad is deciding what to do about Vaulter right now.” He nervously paces around the hallway by the waiting area outside Logan’s office.

“What- what do you mean, like he might kill it?”

“He’s torturing me with questions about you and Sandy and Stewy.”

“Okay. Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but no one made you go back to him… what- what about Vaulter?”

“He doesn’t fucking like it but he could save it?” He brushes his hand along the back of the leather couch and then waves his arm around with his next sentence. “I don’t fucking know, you’re the one who threw all our pretty, pretty money at something for Dad’s approval-“

“Vaulter was a solid business decision. And you don’t care about Dad’s approval? Secretly calling me. Taking his shit. Okay.” He decides saving Vaulter is more important than making his point and refocuses. “Well, look, I think Dad is wrong, and Vaulter deserves a chance. I mean, yeah, Lawrence probably inflated their numbers, so, hire some accounting consultants, send them over, show your face. Be the hero.” He hates the idea of Roman looking like the savior for his company, but he hates the idea of losing it more.

“Or I could lay off two hundred people and triumphantly march back to my ivory tower. Maybe I could hire them to build me a new ivory tower. What’s minimum wage now, like 600K?”

“Or you should listen to me because I know the full situation and actually want to build something there.”

“Riiiight, you’re so selfless and altruistic. So inspiring,” Roman says. “Seriously, 600K, can you imagine trying to live on that?” Kendall ignores him.

“Dude. This is for you, too. When you’re COO, you’ll be glad you have their content and their interface, their readers. Trust me on this.” Roman asked what to do, but he doesn’t always like getting what he wants. “So- does he want you to go in? See Lawrence?”

“Of course he does. Tomorrow at 11:00.”

“Are you-? Don’t make me look like an asshole, man. You can save this.” Kendall squirms at the thought of Roman in his territory, making disgusting jokes and talking shit about him.

“Don’t worry about me meeting with him, I’m much more charming and likable than you,” Roman says drily. Kendall rolls his eyes and wonders why Lawrence doesn’t like him. “Okay, back to being the only son Daddy loves!”

Roman hangs up and Kendall drums his fingers on the arm of the chair and gets up to find Rava.

“Hey,” he calls into the great room. “I think Dad might be doing something insane. He wants to shut down Vaulter, our only chance into the twenty-first century… eighteen years late, but, you know, it’s Dad.”

“Can you save it?” she asks as he enters the room and sits down.

“Uh, well. I don’t know. He’s got Roman on it tomorrow. He wouldn’t tell me if he’s going to destroy it. I worked on that acquisition for months!” He throws his hand up exasperatedly.

“Well, don’t just let him take it down then. Go with him and stop him!”

“Dad would never allow that, so-“

“You know, you don’t have to worry about what your dad would allow anymore.” He thinks for a second. “It’s going to be your company, isn’t it? Are you going to let the current CEO shutter a valuable asset that you’ll need when you take over? Would you let that happen with any other acquisition?”

He gives her a little smile.

“I missed this,” he says. “You’re always right.”

He goes to sit next to her and leans in to kiss her. Her hand brushes the back of his head and he puts his forehead on hers for a second, reconnecting after the energy given to everything else.

“How’s your day going?” he asks. “Has work improved much?”

She slumps into the couch and leans against him.

“Not really,” she answers drearily. “It’s all so shrouded in darkness. I can’t believe there are companies that operate like this.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know how you work in this world.”

He tries not to take the comment personally.

“Well… Waystar doesn’t do shit like steal wages and kidnapping or whatever.”

She raises her eyebrows and his voice gets a defensive tone.

“Not now. Not while I’ve worked there, Rav, you know that.”

“Yeah. I’m-“ she sighs. “Sorry- I don’t know. I feel bad failing at this. If this guy never comes home, it’s because I couldn’t find him. If there’s no justice for all these workers… I guess I just wish I were a better lawyer.”

Kendall never hears her express doubt in herself. It takes him a second to process and respond.

“Hey, that’s not fair to you. You’re going to figure this out. I’ll try whatever I can to help. And-“ he hesitates. “Would it be so bad to ask Robert?”

“Oh, so you don’t have to call your dad when you have a business problem, but I have to call my step-dad?” she gently mocks.

“Okay. I mean, sure, obviously I get it, but he probably knows someone.”

“From his Wall Street acquisition world? They wouldn’t know about this.”

“I dunno, maybe he knows someone who does.”

She shrugs.

“I’ll think about it.”

……

Lawrence looks worriedly at Kendall.

“It’s all for real, man,” Lawrence asserts. “You made a good decision buying us, I mean, from your perspective. I’ll do what it takes to keep it going.” He pauses. “What do you honestly think is going to happen here?”

“I’m of the opinion Dad can be persuaded he’s making a mistake,” Kendall says intensely. Roman looks at him warily. He’s not sure what the right answer is and Kendall can tell. “But you gotta work with me. Okay? Trust me.”

Lawrence nods like he knows it’s not up to him and Kendall walks up toward the front of balcony area of the Vaulter floor, overlooking all the people below, and begins his speech. Roman stands behind Kendall and zones out his words while he observes the expressions on all the workers’ faces. They’re not loving it but they also have no choice.

“Vaulter is the future of this company,” Kendall’s saying. Roman glances at Lawrence and he catches him. Roman gives an awkward nod and lets out a silent sigh. Kendall’s eyes flit to Roman for some support in the cold room. Roman makes a subtle face at him and Kendall gets back on track.

“If I fuck this up, I’m done forever,” he announces to the crowd. Roman fights the urge to cheer and get a laugh. He wonders how Kendall can possibly be so sincere saying such a dramatic sentence. Vaulter’s not the only game in town, Roman thinks. Another one would come along. Kendall’s winding it down now.

“Tough times. All pull together. Trust. Trust me. Any questions?” Roman can practically hear the crickets. Kendall steps down from the chair, a little shaken at the negative reception. Low chatter resumes in the room and Roman gives Kendall a sardonic smirk.

“Wow, they fucking love you here, you were definitely the right choice to make that speech. Then again, I’m still cool and they all hate you more than ever, so-“

“I’m saving their fucking jobs,” Kendall mutters. Roman giggles and walks away. Even if it’s the right thing, he doesn’t want to make it easy. “You understand that’s what this is, right?” Kendall calls after his brother. “I’m serious.” He catches up to Roman. “You want to strategize tonight? We have a lot of work to do. Obviously you’ll have to send me some shit so I can do it from home since I can’t be here normally. But-“

“I’m actually having a dinner party tonight that you’re not invited to, so-“

“What?”

Roman looks annoyingly satisfied at Kendall’s confusion.

“Yeah, Tabs and I are having Shiv and Tom to dinner.” Kendall feels a flash of envy and disappointment not to be included with Rava in a couples’ dinner party for his siblings.

“Uh, okay.” He tries to justify. “Well, you- you can’t be seen with me anyway, so.”

“You know Dad’s going to know you came here today and that we were seen together.” The justification dissolves and Kendall shrugs it off and tries to put a teflon wall around himself, allowing his eyes to get a little darker.

“Tell him I went rogue.”

……

Kendall squishes into his favorite armchair in the family room, glancing at the fireplace while he idly listens to Stewy complain over the phone.

“When were you going to consult with me on making a speech to all of Vaulter, Ken?” he asks, clearly annoyed. “How does that look? How am I supposed to explain this?”

“It’s going to look like I’m taking over this company and care what happens to it. It makes sense.”

“You standing with Roman the ‘loyal son’ and speaking from a joint perspective. That makes sense?”

“Yes. It does. I can’t trust Roman to take care of things. Dad leans toward killing it. If Roman feels the heat, he’ll fold. He’d fire them all tomorrow if he thought it would get him a pat on the head.”

Stewy sighs.

“This isn’t your favorite kind of, like, nice, pleasant acquisition where you have lunch and discuss your joint business dreams.” Stewy tries to sound authoritative but he smiles a little at the vast difference in how he and Kendall do business. “Not to sound like your dad,” he shudders, “but this is war. It cannot look like you might still be talking to him or your brother. No more of this.”

“You know we need Vaulter, Stew.”

“Figure it out without being buddy-buddy with the fucking enemy. I don’t want to be destroyed on CNBC tomorrow and I’m sick of being questioned by Sandy. You still need him, don’t forget that.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Kendall goes back to looking over the piles of Vaulter documents in front of him and slips on his glasses. He only wears them when it’s absolutely necessary, but Rava loves when she catches a glimpse. She steps into the doorway, head tilted and subtle smile on her face as she watches him focus. He looks up and takes the glasses off.

“Hi,” he says.

“Oh, you’re so cute in those, put them back on,” she says as she walks closer.

“No.”

“Well, you never know when you're cute.” He looks down and tries not to smile. “See, right now.” She steps between his chair and the desk, leaning back against it as she surveys him, and puts the glasses back on him. “Sexy econ professor," she laughs. "Tell me about the stock market.”

He laughs and shakes his head. She tucks her hair behind her ears and leans over him.

“How’s the New York Stock Exchange?” she whispers.

He looks down her open blouse.

“Uh, pretty hot. I'm the professor? Okay. I'll teach you. Waystar is actually doing better than I-”

“Ooh, I heard those Waystar guys are rich,” she purrs in his ear. He takes off the glasses again and puts them down.

“You heard right,” he says, completely straight-faced this time as he pulls her into his lap for a sexy kiss. “All the diamonds you want if you come to office hours.”

“And if I want time?” She smiles into his lips and swats in the direction of his laptop. He reaches over and closes it.

“Probably more than you want,” he chuckles.

“Good. Well, Mom and Robert are expecting us at 7:00, so… we should go in a few minutes. So much better than a stupid dinner party with your siblings all night,” she says in a light tone as she stands up, knowing the party is bothering him enough that he insisted they go to her parents’ house this very weekend. He nods, wondering again why Roman and Shiv don’t hang out with him more. He remembers Roman essentially saying he liked being close to him a few days ago and feels guilty for letting him dangle in that conversation while he was mad. He wonders if that’s the real reason he wasn’t invited.

“Yeah. Let me just-“

“Don’t make me explain to him why we’re late, come onnnn.” She pulls him up playfully and he extricates himself before putting his hands on her upper arms and looking into her eyes.

“I will be done in ten minutes,” he promises.

“Ha! Sure you will. Just remember this trip was your idea, so if we’re late, you are dealing with any and all fallout.”

“Okay. I could be almost done by now. I’ll be out in-“

“Ten minutes,” they say in unison. Rava smiles and walks out.

……..

When the heavy wooden door of the elegant stone Greenwich home swings open, Kendall is immediately enveloped in Rava’s mom’s arms, squished in with Rava and the kids behind them and feeling the stress being squeezed away. Years of memories flood back in in the best way, of his first happy Christmas with Rava’s family at age 23, the time a year later when Rava had run into the house ahead of him squealing to her mom about her new engagement ring, the first time they brought both kids to visit and swelled with pride. This house has been a sweet escape for Kendall his whole adult life. Every time Logan had hurt his pride or his self-esteem, he had found himself again with the other side of his family. He closes his eyes for a few moments, taking in the kindness and calm of the house he had missed for the last three years.

When Cheryl finally lets go, she puts her hand on Kendall’s face.

“Look at you. You’re still thirty. Men have it so easy,” she laughs with Rava and he shakes his head. She grabs him again and pats his back. “Ohhh, I missed you.” She looks at her daughter and grandchildren. “He’s such a good hugger. I almost forgot how cute he is.” Rava and Kendall smile.

“It’s true,” Rava agrees.

“Okay,” he laughs at the way he'd forgotten they compliment him like he isn't there. “Thank you, I missed you, too. I’m so glad to be back. Seriously, you have no idea.” Cheryl pats his hand and turns her attention to Sophie and Iverson.

“My babies! You’re getting so big,” she coos.

“Grandma!” Sophie excitedly jumps up and down and Iverson smiles.

“Come eat!” Cheryl beckons to the dining room and takes the kids’ hands as she leads them to the kitchen. Kendall and Rava head in to find Rava’s stepdad setting his glass at his place. Robert seems even taller than he usually does in his own home, authority and confidence emanating from him in a similar yet less menacing way as Logan.

“Sweetheart,” he says to Rava, coming over to kiss her cheek. “Good you’re here for the weekend.” He turns to Kendall. “Ken, son!” he booms. “Get over here.” Kendall's glad to hear that he's still considered family but his heart beats a little faster as he walks over for what feels like a bit of a test. “I hear you’ve got it all together these days,” Robert says, glancing down his nose as he commends and warns at once.

“That’s right,” Kendall affirms, a little tension creeping up as he worries he hasn’t been accepted back in. “Here to stay,” he adds, trying to sound confident. Robert lingers in eye contact for exactly two seconds before moving on.

“That’s what we like to hear!” He claps him on the back and Kendall breathes a sigh of relief. “Now let’s hear every detail of this fucking bear hug. It’s daring. I like that. Cheryl, do we have something besides scotch and wine in this house?”

“Oh, it’s fine-“ Kendall starts.

“Well, of course we do,” Cheryl rolls her eyes as she glides back in, already ready with Perrier and French grapefruit soda. The kids trail her and sit down at their places. She musses Robert’s hair as she passes him and sets the bottles in the middle of the table. “Divina made the most incredible cedar plank salmon for tonight, it’ll blow your mind.”

“It smells great,” Rava says.

“And mac ’n’ cheese for my adorable grandchildren,” she continues. The kids dig in as soon as the cook places the food on the table.

“So! Let’s hear it. Taking on the titan, huh?” Robert asks.

“Uh, yeah, well- it- it obviously was not my ideal plan, but it’s pretty much necessary. My dad-“ he sighs. “It’s just- time for the new generation to take over.”

“True enough, some of us know when to retire! Someone’s got to keep the golf clubs in business. Now for the good stuff- Vaulter!” Kendall knew the M&A lawyer would want all the juicy details about the acquisition.

“My dad wants it gone- I hear,” Kendall starts. ��I guess he wants to sell but, you know, if things go right, he won’t be in charge for much longer, so I’m planning to save it. It’s hard from the outside, but I won’t be outside for long.”

“You gave a speech I hear,” Robert smirks.

“That got out, huh?” Kendall asks a little nervously. “Well, I did, yeah. They need to know where we stand. Can’t have them unionizing, it’s for their own good. Dad would shut that down so fast. But we’re gonna have an amazing company culture, like, they’re going to be bragging to their friends about how incredible things are for them. They think they have it good now with a few ping-pong tables. Just wait til I have a chance to do things right. The guys on twelve in our building are pumped about all the changes I made happen. Even the breakfast food. They actually specifically told me so.”

Rava smiles to herself. She likes when the passion spills out of the buttoned-up persona he keeps up.

“Mmhmm. I do see you at the helm,” Robert looks him over and nods approvingly. Rava knows what it means for Kendall to hear that.

“Thank you." He looks genuinely touched and Rava wonders if he's heard that at all since the position was offered to him a year and a half ago.

“Rava!” Robert calls. “Let’s hear some good case news.” Kendall glances at her uneasily.

“You probably should have done me first,” she says jokingly while still accidentally managing to come off as preemptively defensive toward him. “Well,” she begins, “the case I’m still working on is- a unique challenge. Some international corporate stuff. But it’s going all right,” she fibs.

“Nothing you can’t figure out if you put real effort in,” he says. She wonders if she’s being too sensitive or if the implication that she isn’t trying was really there. “What’s wrong with it?” he asks. She gives him a look like he should know better than to ask for case details and he rolls his eyes. “I’ll sign whatever you need, just spill it,” he orders. Kendall watches her dissolve a little as she glances down at the table and gives in and he grimaces for a moment. It doesn’t occur to him that this is what she’s watched happen to him all their lives.

“Um, well, the resorts don’t keep very clear paperwork- I’m sure that’s not an accident- and they make it pretty difficult to get it. I need evidence of settlements for past wage theft whisteblowers to prove this is a pattern of behavior.” She blinks and avoids Robert’s eyes. “But they operate out of these remote island places and it’s been hard to get in touch with anyone in management to get the evidence I need…?” She hates that she probably sounds like she’s not working hard enough. “And I’ve subpoenaed but, obviously, that doesn’t work if everyone’s MIA.” She takes a long sip of her chardonnay, dreading the response.

“Well, if you can’t figure it out yourself, you should grab that Gerri Kellman for a consult,” Robert asserts. Rava’s shoulders tense up. “If Waystar’s still running, it’s because she’s kept ‘em all out of prison,” he laughs. “No offense, Ken.”

“Uh…” Kendall starts. “Well, I, you know, to a point, I agree,” he says, hoping to keep things smooth and take the unwanted attention off of Rava and the case. “There have been some problems with some bad actors within the company. I’m going to affect a lot of change in the culture when I’m CEO. The culture that my dad has allowed is actually toxic. And I’m coming to change that.” He looks at Rava. “But, Rava wouldn’t talk to Gerri while we’re in the middle of this- that would be a disaster.” He looks back at Robert and she feels queasy. “But I’m sure between the two of us, we could get a list of some fuckin’ superstars she could talk to, yeah?”

“You said a bad word!” Sophie cries, looking up from her dinner.

“Oh, sh- uh, yeah. Sorry, Soph.” Sophie goes back to eating and not paying attention.

Normally Rava would laugh at Sophie’s occasional tendency to chastise her dad about little things, but this time, she’s caught on something else. She’d almost forgotten that she’d called Gerri at all in all the chaos of the last few days and hadn’t gotten around to mentioning the conversation to Kendall. Now she thinks she’d better not.

“Mmhmm,” Robert responds. “I’ll get a list going of people you can consult with.”

“I mean, it’s going fine, but- sure.” Rava nods with a tight smile to her stepdad. “Thank you,” she adds. She doesn’t mind when Kendall offers to help because she knows how happy it makes him to feel useful and needed. But when Robert helps, she worries that it comes from doubt rather than encouragement. But either way, in this particular situation, she knows she needs it.

Later that evening, Kendall comes back into their guest bedroom from brushing his teeth and enjoys the low golden light coming from one of the Tiffany lamps on the nightstand by Rava. She watches him and thinks he looks physically lighter on his feet after the compliments and encouragement he got tonight. She feels a bit flattened herself. She slides her hands over her face and makes a mental note to say extra nice things to the kids tomorrow. Being criticized really messes people up, she thinks, considering Kendall’s and her different but related experiences. He sits down on the side of the bed and drops his button-up off his shoulders. Rava reaches up from her position lying in bed and traces her fingers from one freckle to the next on his back. She wants to be close.

“I love these,” she says. They’re peacefully quiet for a moment as she continues. “You’re getting them checked every year though, right?”

He chuckles.

“Yes. You’re so my wife.” She smiles and keeps gently rubbing her fingers over his back as he closes his eyes.

“That feels so nice.” He drops his head back and leans back into her touch.

“Don’t put anything else on,” she whispers.

He nods before turning to lie down right next to her and pull her close into a tight hug. He feels solid, warm, safe. She tucks her head into the crook of his neck and relaxes, relishing how soft his skin is there.

“Mmm, you are a good hugger,” she whispers. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he smiles. “I’m so glad we’re here.” He slides his hands up the back of her t-shirt.

“Feel better?” she asks.

“I’m about to,” he mumbles into her skin as he rolls her on top of him.

“We’ll have to be quiet,” she says mischievously.

He gives her a cocky smile.

“Yeah? Good luck with that.”

Chapter 13 💗

#I love you readers!!!!!#season 2 is a unique challenge because kendall is not with the Roys while he is in canon #we are still following their plot though!#also I didn't make this gif I posted it with credit once and it attributed it to me because I didn't know what I was doing #waymond-wang made it and it's excellent #kendall roy #rava roy #kendall x rava #kenrava #succession #kendall roy fic

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hbosucc · 5 months

Text

Greg Hirsch x Reader: Chapter 7

Hi babes I'm back with another chapter! This chapter ended up being super long so I'm cutting it in half and just posting the first half now.

Also! Kendall, Shiv, and Tom finally make appearances in this chapter hehe.

This chapter is 18+!! Minors dni. Link to previous chapter (also 18+) here

Content Warnings for this chapter:

Sexual content (Tom being a creep/harassing reader)

Alcohol consumption

Drug use

Swearing

Chapter 7: Meeting the Fam, Part I

I smoothed my hands over my dress, a fitted emerald green number that Greg had bought for me. He’d left the price tag on—by accident, I was pretty sure—so I knew that it was way too expensive. But then, I supposed that considering the occasion, it was appropriate. I’d even splurged on a mani-pedi earlier that day, and had tried my best on my own with my hair and makeup.

Looking myself over in the mirror, I was fairly pleased. My hair was behaving for once, and the jewelry I’d picked out went well with my dress. I had gone for a subtle but polished look, and I felt I’d accomplished it, for the most part.

Greg texted to let me know he was there with the car, and I buzzed him in quickly to get his opinion before we left. I opened the door and let him in, taking a step back so he could see the full look.

“Wow! You look great, oh my God.” He said, looking me up and down. “Give me a little…yeah, give me a little spin.”

“I look okay?” I asked, doing a slow spin on one heel. He gripped my hips and pulled me in, giving me a long, deep kiss, his hands moving down over the silky fabric to squeeze my ass. I giggled and pulled back, my arms wrapped around his neck.

“That would be a yes.” He gave me another quick kiss before helping me into my coat.

“Are you sure?” I bit my lip, taking one last look in the mirror.

“Hey, hey,” He wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Are you still nervous?” I nodded. “A little, yeah. Are you sure I—”

“You literally look incredible. Okay?” He spun me around so I was facing him and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “If you don’t want to go, like, if you want to cancel and stay in, you just say the word. I mean, it’s just some stupid gala.”

“No, no. We can go.” I took a deep breath and nodded.

“Okay.” He smiled and took my hand, and we walked down to the waiting car together. It wasn’t a limo—that would’ve felt a little too prom—but a black town car of some kind, with a bottle of chilled champagne and two flutes in the back. We popped it open on the drive, and it helped to settle my nerves, though only slightly. Greg’s presence helped as well; he seemed surprisingly at ease, which made me more relaxed as well.

By the time we pulled up outside of the event, I still felt like I was walking into a lion’s den, but at least I had a glass of champagne buzzing through my bloodstream. The driver came around to open the door, and Greg stepped out first, taking my hand to help me out.

We walked up to the entrance, and I was surprised to see what seemed to be paparazzi on either side of the carpet going up to the building entrance, held off to the side by velvet ropes. Their shutters clicked and flashed as I took Greg’s arm, holding my clutch in my other hand. The staff inside the door marked us off on their list as Greg gave them his name, then we checked in our coats and headed into the main event.

“Okay, first things first: do you want a drink?” He asked.

“Yes. I think that would be a great idea.” I followed him over to the bar and he ordered for us, getting me my usual gin and tonic. As he ordered, I surveyed the room, leaning back on the bar. I didn’t recognize anyone at first, though that didn’t surprise me. I knew what some of his family members looked like, but other than them, I hadn’t been sure who would be at this event.

“Gregory Hirsch!” A voice boomed, and a man I recognized as Greg’s boss, Tom, appeared on Greg’s other side.

“Hey, Tom.” Greg said, handing me my drink and taking his. I peeked over his shoulder and met Tom’s eyes, which widened in surprise.

“And you must be the girlfriend.” He extended a hand, and I took it.

“Y/n.” I supplied for him as we shook. He looked me up and down, his eyebrows raising.

“Well, Y/n, it’s nice to finally meet you.” He side-eyed Greg. “How much is he paying you?”

“Excuse me?” I almost spit out the sip I’d just taken.

“Tom, c’mon, man.” Greg hissed, his arm around me tightening.

“Gregory, I’m only kidding.” Tom laughed, unshaken. “No one’s going to believe that this beautiful creature agreed to go out with you for free, though, I’m just warning you.”

“Just because that’s how you find women, Tom, doesn’t mean it’s the same for everyone else.” I cocked an eyebrow at him, holding his gaze. Tom’s straight face broke, and he let out another booming laugh, clapping Greg on the shoulder.

“You’ve got yourself a feisty one, huh, Greg?”

“I—I guess?” Greg said, looking over at me apologetically.

“Well, good for you.” Tom looked me up and down one last time. “I’d better go find Logan, but, Y/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

With that, he walked off, and Greg and I exchanged a look.

“Well, that was Tom.” Greg sighed.

“Jesus.” I laughed, shaking my head. “I don’t know how you deal with that all day.”

“Neither do I, sometimes.”

“Shoot,” I said, opening my clasp and searching inside for my phone. “I think I left my phone in my coat pocket, I’m gonna go grab it really quick.”

“Do you want me to come with?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll be right back.” I gave him a peck on the cheek and hurried back out to the lobby, giving my ticket to the coat-checker and explaining the situation.

As I waited for my phone to be retrieved, I felt a presence behind me and turned around, coming face to face with Tom again.

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” He smiled. He wasn’t as tall as Greg, but I still had to look up at him, even in my heels.

“No worries.” I shrugged.

“So, you and Greg, huh?” He asked, his eyes dipping, then coming up to meet mine again as he leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “How much is he paying you, really? You can tell me.”

“Tom.” I folded my arms. “Please tell me you’re not actually this thick in the head.”

“I’m not, I’m not, I’m just trying to understand.” He laughed. “What is it about Greg that does it for you? He’s just so awkward and…and goofy, and you seem so lovely and poised. It’s not making sense to me.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I like him. He treats me really well. And besides that,” I smirked. “he’s incredible in bed.”

“Now that, I don’t believe.” He chuckled.

“You don’t have to.” I shrugged. “I’m enjoying myself, that’s all I can tell you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Well, you’re not going to. See it, I mean.” I turned to grab my phone as it was held out to me, then back to Tom, my face flushed. I had to stay composed. There was a weird chemistry swirling between us, and I was trying to keep my mind on Greg and ignore the fact that his boss was attractive, in a silver-fox kind of way. “Did you follow me out here just to pester me about Greg?”

“No, no, not—well, not just that.” He followed me as I walked back to the door leading into the main room.

“What, then?” I stopped, my heart pounding in my throat. He was standing too close, his expensive cologne sharp in my nostrils.

“Well, let’s just say…if you ever get tired of climbing that beanpole,” He looked across the crowded room, our eyes landing on Greg at the same time. He was now in conversation with one of his cousins, nodding intently. “You should…let me know.”

“You’re married.” My eyes narrowed, and I went to walk past him, but his hand on my arm stopped me.

“My marriage is...not strictly monogamous.” He said in a low voice, his bright blue eyes locked on mine.

“Well,” I started, stepping back, moving my arm out of his grip. “Good for you.”

“It could be good for you, too.” He shrugged, his hands in his pockets. I was about to walk away, and he could see it, because he spoke quickly. “By the way, if you happen to mention this conversation to Greg, I’ll make sure his career at Waystar is over.”

I took one step closer to him and looked him in the eye again. “Fuck off.”

Leaving it at that, I walked back into the crowded ballroom, weaving through the well-dressed elites until I’d reached Greg. He was talking to the cousin I recognized as Kendall, and he introduced us.

“Nice to meet you.” Kendall said as he shook my hand with his sweaty one. His eyes never landed on mine, instead scanning the crowd over my shoulder, nervous energy surrounding him like a cloud.

“Shiv!” Greg said, stopping a woman in her tracks as she was about to walk past us. “Hey, Shiv, I wanted you to meet my girlfriend, Y/n.”

“Oh,” She said, joining our circle for a moment. She’d seemed to be on a mission, looking for someone, but her eyebrows raised. “Girlfriend?”

“Hi,” I took her hand when she offered it. “I love your dress, by the way.” I did—it was a deep blue velvet, floor length, and perfectly fitted to her curves.

“Oh, thank you.” She gave me a quick smile, tucking some of her short orange hair behind her ear. “Have any of you seen Tom?”

“No, not in a while.” Greg shook his head.

“Fuck.” She sighed. “I’ve gotta find him.” She paused before resuming her speed-walk through the crowd. “Nice to meet you. And, uh, congrats, Greg.”

“Why’s she looking for Tom?” I asked Greg, trying to keep my voice even.

“Oh, I thought I told you, Shiv and Tom are married.” He said, his arm around my waist once more.

“Oh.” I said. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yeah, well, but on the down-low, I don’t think things are going so well.” He said in a low voice.

“That’s juicy.” I took a sip of my drink. Kendall’s eyes finally met mine, and he seemed to snap out of whatever trance he’d been in.

“Hey, uh, Greg, could I talk to you for a sec? Like, in private?” He asked, looking up at Greg, who looked down at me.

“Well, does it have to be, like, right now?” Greg asked.

“It’s fine. I’m getting another drink.” I said, turning on my heel and heading toward the bar, draining my glass on the way. I ordered another g&t, putting it on Greg’s tab. I slid onto a barstool and checked my phone, figuring Greg would text or come find me when he was done with Kendall. It was most likely work stuff, or family stuff, and I had no desire to get in the middle of any of that.

“Mind if I join you?” I looked up, saw Tom, and sighed.

“You’ve decided to stalk me for the evening, huh?” I asked, taking a sip of my drink. “Is that what rich people do for fun?”

“No, no, I’m just surprised that Greg let you out of his sight again.” He said, feigning innocence. “I’m keeping an eye on you for him.”

“He didn’t ask you to do that.” I said, but it came out almost like a question.

“Maybe not.” He leaned in. “Are you bored out of your mind yet?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, by all this. It’s not like you know anyone else here, and everyone’s talking shop.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’d be pretty bored if I were you.”

“Yeah, well, what am I supposed to do about that?” I rolled my eyes.

“Do you want to go do drugs?”

I barked out a laugh, covering my mouth with my hand. “No, thanks.”

“Are you sure?” He prodded. “Come on. I can see it in your eyes, you kind of want to.”

“You’re crazy.” I scoffed, but my resolve was wavering, and I knew he could see right through me.

“You know you want to.” He sing-songed. “Come on. You know I have the good stuff. This might be your only chance, ever, to do really high-quality coke.”

“Oh, my God.” I sighed. “If I were to say yes, where would we even do it?”

“I’ll show you.” He stood up.

“Fine. Jesus Christ.” I followed him out a side exit, up a staircase, the crowd thinning more the further we went. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a secret.” he said. We reached a heavy oak door, he knocked, then pushed it open when there was no response. I followed him into a large study-like room, lined with tall windows and bookcases, a chandelier lit above us.

“What is this?” I asked, taking it in.

“This is a private meeting room.” Tom pulled a small baggie of white powder from one of his pockets, shook it, and opened it, taking a seat at the long, gleaming wooden table in the middle of the room. “Come here.”

I took the seat next to him, crossing my legs as I watched him cut a few lines with a credit card.

“You know, I knew you would say yes to this.” He pulled out a short glass straw and put it to one of his nostrils, making two of the lines disappear, then sniffing and leaning his head back.

“Yeah, okay, right.” I said, taking the straw as he handed it to me. “How?”

“You just have that coke-whore gleam in your eye.” He looked at me smugly, and I lowered the straw, keeping eye contact as I snorted a line, then handed the straw back.

“Well. I can’t say I’ve heard that one before.” I held the back of my hand to my nose and sniffed, making sure it went all the way to the back.

“I’m like a bloodhound for these sorts of things.” he said. He did one more line, then handed it back to me. “Here. You do the last one.”

“If you insist.” I said, and then the last line was gone, vacuumed up into my nasal cavity. When I opened my eyes and looked up, I saw Tom’s phone in his hand, the lens trained on me. “What’re you doing?”

“Oh, nothing.” He lowered the phone, then held it out so I could see the video he’d taken of me snorting a line. My face was only visible for a moment at the end, but it was, undeniably, me.

“Why…” I started, swallowing as the coke drip filled my mouth with the familiar bitter taste.

“Well, Y/n,” He bent in, lowering his voice as his phone disappeared back into his pocket. “When Greg told us he had a new girlfriend, we had to do a little background check. So, I know which school you work at.”

“But why…why the video?” My heart thudded in my ears, and I could feel the color drain from my face.

“Come on, Y/n, you’re obviously a very smart girl, you can put it together.” He leaned in, tilting my chin up and forcing me to look at him.

“What do you want from me?” I tried to keep my voice steady as I searched his eyes, panic rising. Why, why, why had I agreed to go anywhere with this insane man? I heard my phone vibrate in my clutch and turned towards it, but his grip jerked me back.

“You know what I want. And…” He whispered. “I know you want it, too, just like I knew you would follow me up here. You just need an excuse to let yourself do it. And I’ve just provided you with one.”

“What do you mean?” I pressed my lips together in an attempt to keep them from trembling.

“It would be…a real shame if my thumb happened to slip, and that video was sent to Greg. Or, to your principal’s email address.”

“And if—” I swallowed. “If I fuck you, or whatever, you’ll delete it?”

“Who said anything about fucking?” One of his hands trailed down, sliding one of my dress straps over my shoulder.

“Tom, come on,” I said. My head felt light, and I knew the coke was starting to hit my bloodstream.

“We’ll see.” He said, rising from his seat and pulling me up with him. He pulled me flush against him by the hips, and I bit my lip, determined not to make a sound. “This doesn’t have to be so difficult, you know.”

One hand climbed to the zipper of my dress, and he slowly pulled it down, my dress falling open in the back.

“What if someone walks in?” I asked, looking over his shoulder at the door.

“They won’t.” He said, his lips next to my ear.

“Tom, I—” I started, and he stopped my lips with his finger.

“Listen, if you really don’t want to do this, by all means, just say the word.”

“I…” I started. My phone buzzed again, and Tom grabbed my wrist before I could reach for it.

“Hey, hey, Y/n, look at me.” I met his eyes, and he continued. “I’m just fucking with you.”

“What?” I choked out. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just fucking around.” He chuckled, turning me around so he could zip my dress back up.

“You’re—you mean—”

“I wasn’t going to make you fuck me, Y/n,” He said incredulously. “You really though I would do that?”

“Tom, what the fuck,” I balked. “But…the video?”

“Oh, come on, I was never going to send it to anyone.” He held his phone up so I could see the screen, and pressed delete on the video he’d taken. “Just a bit of razzing the new kid, okay? That’s all.”

“You’re fucked in the head.” I spat, grabbing my purse and stalking past him towards the exit.

I could hear him laugh as the door closed behind me, and I sped down the stairs, heading towards the women’s restroom. I locked myself in a stall and sank down onto the toilet, letting out a sob. The coke coursing through my veins was not helping things, I knew. My heart felt like it was going a million beats a minute. I pulled out my phone to see missed texts and a call from Greg.

Greg: So sorry about that! I’ll meet you again in a few

Can’t find you, where’d you go?

Are you okay?

I texted back: Sorry, got sick. I’m coming back in now.

I sniffled and took a deep breath, trying to collect myself. I closed my eyes and took a few more deep breaths, in and out, before leaving the stall. Crossing the room to check my face in the mirror, I looked a bit blotchy, and it was clear I’d been crying. I dabbed at my under-eye makeup, then put on a coat of the lipstick I’d brought in my purse. Smoothing my hair, I took one last deep breath, nodded at myself, and left the restroom.

#hbo succession #succession #succession fanfic #succession imagine #greg hirsch #greg hirsch x reader #succession x reader #x reader #gregory hirsch

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mdhwrites · 8 months

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Don't you think it's short selling Sasha and Marcy by saying they aren't major players?

Like it's kinda weird you'd sooner consider the Wartwood citizens to be more major than those two. I mean those guys (like Ivy, Maddie, Croaker, Wally, Toadie, and Felicia) only get like one or two focus episodes per season individually at best and it's not as though they have much of a story arc with them or have as much involvement in the overarching story the same way as Sasha and Marcy do.

Like if you count all the episodes that put Sasha or Marcy in a major role, I'd argue they may actually have more focus episodes than Polly (who appears more than them).

For crying out loud, Matt Braly has outright lumped Sasha and Marcy in as main cast in Tweets with one for season 3B even having him outright state Sasha and Grime are main cast in season 3. Voice director Eden Riegel also lumps Sasha and Marcy's voices as part of the main cast with Anne and the Plantars so they're clearly intended as major players, or at least higher on the prominence scale than the Wartwood citizens.

And it makes me wonder how you would classify characters in other shows that are too prominent to be lumped as simply supporting and nothing more, but also aren't 24/7 main cast.

Owl House has Amity, Willow, Gus, and Hunter (who are kinda similar in prominence with Sasha and Marcy) as not being 24/7 main players like Luz, Eda, King, and Hooty, but also too prominent to be lumped as just supporting and nothing more like the Hexside characters such as Boscha, Skara, Bump, and the Blight Twins.

My Little Pony Friendship is Magic has Starlight, Celestia, Discord, Luna, Trixie, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders as not being 24/7 main players like the Mane 6 + Spike, but too prominent to be lumped as just supporting and nothing more as well.

Star vs the Forces of Evil has Eclipsa, Tom, Moon, Ludo, River, Janna, and Pony Head in that same territory as not being 24/7 main players like Star and Marco, but too prominent to be lumped as just supporting and nothing more.

Steven Universe has Connie, Greg, Peridot, and Lapis in that same territory as not being 24/7 main players like the main 4 Crystal Gems (Steven, Pearl, Garnet, and Amethyst), but too prominent to be lumped as just supporting and nothing more.

Sasha and Marcy certainly have way more prominence than the Wartwood citizens and I feel you're kinda underestimating them into being minor supporting and nothing more, ignoring their importance to the show's story.

Well, I deleted this after not wanting to deliberate on the definition before but if this is going to come back each time I say what is my opinion:

I have never called Sasha or Marcy minor supporting characters. I even admitted in my last blog to Sasha being the primary antagonist for 2 seasons, just that her presence isn't really felt. Honestly, I've been trying to be NICE to Marcy but she has seven episodes dedicated to her... If you REALLY stretch the definition because I'd argue half of those are actually about Anne while we're simply told things about Marcy for Anne to wallow about or Marcy is just there for moralizing at Maddie in what is actually a Maddie episode so that's closer 3-4 which puts her on par with TOADSTOOL. If not straight up behind him.

I'm not saying they're unimportant. I'm not saying they're bad. Just that the focus of the story is on change and on community. Singular characters struggle to fit those themes. Sasha exists for two entire seasons just to challenge them as she opposes Anne's willingness to change, is stubborn in her refusal to change and loses her community because she's not willing to show care to them. It's really good... But it's SEVEN episode segments out of almost EIGHTY. And in s3, she gets two more dedicated to her and then is more an ensemble member for the Oum stuff, especially mother Oum, and then helps in the final fights of the finale, with a bit of her being commander sprinkled in like any random Wartwood citizen before.

And why is that? Because she joins the main cast the same way ALL of Wartwood is a part of the main cast. In finding community, she finds a place amongst the main players but I do not consider HER, INDIVIDUALLY, to be a main character, just like I don't argue Hop Pop or Polly are INDIVIDUALLY main characters. Honestly, questionably even Sprig.

It's the idea that a supporting group of characters can come together enough to build a main pillar of the show better than any one of them. If you claim NONE of the Wartwood characters are main characters, you trivialize the ENTIRE SETTING. But those characters are interconnected enough, tied together so tightly as a joint unit of characters, even if only one or two may get focus per episode, that you can see their change happen gradually in their own, collective arc.

And that arc is more important and arguably even more powerful. After all, if Wartwood hadn't changed, Sasha would never have gotten her second chance. She'd have died in Turning Point. Or they wouldn't have ever gone back to them in the first place. Marcy might have been told to piss off simply because she was from Newtopia because they didn't want to be looked down on. The armies might not have come together if Wartwood and others weren't moved to start thinking of the bigger picture rather than petty squables.

These are all critical to payoffs in the show and the themes, just as much, if not more, than anything with Sasha. It's why I think Thai Temple is one of the most important S3A episodes because it reassures that you don't have to go to a fantasy realm for community. There are lots of them who wish to share who they are, welcome in people with open minds, etc. like that and who will support each other in dark times.

There's a reason why Anne's final words to the Core, her refusal of it absolutely, isn't about Marcy and Sasha. It's about the world. And of course she's the one standing there because she has had the biggest impact on, and impacted by, the various communities of Earth, Amphibia and Wartwood especially. She is fighting for them, for they are her greatest treasures.

SO. With my having hopefully made myself clear: Let's talk about some of the claims you make with other shows so I can dig myself a hole. If you just want the Amphibia stuff, you can leave now.

TOH is a fucking nightmare to classify. Main characters often are meant to be storytelling engines, help establish what is most important to the show and set the status quote for antagonists and side characters to disrupt. Again, it's why Sasha actually makes a great primary antagonist early on for the capstone episodes because she does challenge Anne on much of this, just isn't around 99% of the time.

TOH has the problem that a story can be poorly written enough to make you wonder "WHO THE FUCK IS THE MAIN CAST!?" There's ALL sorts of arguments I could make, not helped that just time wise, Amity takes up a literal third of the show and doesn't help themes, doesn't push the plot forward and mostly doesn't fit the show's GENRE even. But time wise, she actually gets close to as much, time especially Luz, as Eda does. Eda spends literally NO time with Luz in the second S1 after all because she's too busy spending time with her sister.

Gus and Willow are LAUGHABLE to be called main supporting characters because every single one of Willow's episodes is actually someone else's and Gus gets one every half season and they also had to break their magic for one of them with a retcon. Hell, Willow gets maybe a dozen lines in the entirety of S2A and then I'm not sure if she actually says more than two lines to Luz in the entirety of S2B.

The only other one I can comment on is MLP which I watched... A bit over five seasons if I'm remembering right (I despised Starlight's redemption as one of the worst redemptions I've ever seen, let alone how it felt like they were performing character assassination on others to make Starlight look good afterwards) so this is from that perspective.

And like... No. Just no. Not even the entirety of the Mane 6 are always there and Spike certainly isn't around 24/7 but the only characters you listed, besides Starlight because yes, she was made into a main character, who got more than MAYBE two episodes a season are the Cutie Mark Crusaders. A lot of the fandom WISHES Luna and Celestia did more instead of feeling like a stiff breeze can incapacitate them and getting mentioned does not make you a main character. Trixie was a reoccurring villain but not very often. Even with the CMC, Apple Bloom is a main supporting character of Applejack... But they themselves are more side characters. They're along the same vein as most of the Wartwood citizens honestly.

None of them are bad mind you, I have been inspired by all the characters you've listed (Michael Hudson on fimfiction and no, I do not condone everything there but I don't like denying my past and so I don't nuke the entire account) before and I like a lot of stories with them. It doesn't make them main characters. At best, I'd put them in a middle tier where they're just supporting characters and part of that's simply because SIX MAIN CHARACTERS IS A LOT OF MAIN CHARACTERS. It's kind of hard to get in a word edgewise when that's the case, something TOH also suffers from.

I keep main character status TIGHT because those are the characters the story genuinely revolves around. If your existence only revolves around a different character, you're probably not a main character. As an example of my own work: In Rich Witch, I'd argue Pythia, despite being a part of the main 5 girls, is not a main character. Arguably, neither is Blair as she takes on more of an antagonist role. The main characters of that series are Azu, Igni and Daina. If a plotline doesn't have any effect on those three, I'm not going to include it.

And I think that's just straight up better for storytelling, at least if you're going for a tighter, more focused narrative. After all, the six protagonist for MLP work BECAUSE that show isn't about having a tight narrative so having a wide breadth of perspectives to potentially invoke stories is useful for it.

Amphibia is not the same way which is why I argue if anyone is the main character than Anne... It's in units because the whole of those people being affected matters more than any singular one. And that isn't me calling them bad, or unimportant or disinteresting. It's just me classifying it as I believe and that will paint how I analyze the show.

Sorry if you don't like it.

======+++++======= Side note: Don't expect more blogs on this topic. I have now addressed it but I don't think it's actually that useful of a point to deliberate, not when I'd rather talk about how effective the characters are regardless of their specific titles. After all, for as much as I want to teach with this stuff, it's still MY opinion and this is how I view the show.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

And finally a Twitter you can follow too!

#amphibia #sasha waybright #toh critical #MLP

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ezlebe · 1 year

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thank you for all the work you do, if you don’t mind, something where the regency sexual tension is resolved at least a little bit, please

Anonymous asked:

More regency era please 🥺

(first fill can be read here)

“It is, uh – quite magnificent,” Gregory says, lifting his hand, as he seems to trace the arc of the staysail with his hand. His other stays gripped on the wheel, though he’s plainly quite distracted, so not exactly a perfect helmsman. “You can do all the sails on your own?”

“It’s a good measure more difficult, but you are certainly watching it happen,” Tom says, tugging on the line with a heave, watching the sail with one eye as it raises above his head. He looks behind himself, tying them off, then grabs one line to yank with all his strength, then the other, and looks to Greg from few yards down to see him still watching with rapt attention from down the deck. “Only need to alternate the ropes, you see, at some point. Of course, if you’re uncomfortable, we can limp back to call upon the usual crew – ”

“No, no,” Gregory interrupts, shaking his head with a drop of his head to glance at Tom, then away, reaching up to scratch along the side of his neck. “I-I meant, should you need any help?”

“I see, perhaps,” Tom says, setting the knots with a click of his tongue, a smirk curving the edge of his mouth over toward the keel. “You are such a big lad, I’m sure there’s something I can find you to do.”

Gregory turns his face down and away, perhaps playing at some coyness.

“But I think you’re doing quite well at the wheel.”

Gregory leans back with a look down at it, as if there’s something to study. “Do you?”

“Of course, you haven’t capsized us at all,” Tom says, though he’s a bit more relieved they managed to get out of port without incident, but it sounds less impressive. “I do wish sometimes I had gotten something simpler to take out and escape – ” He spreads his arms, once he’s tied off the rope for the final lift of the sail. “But she’s so grand! I couldn’t resist my own pilot schooner. And I’ve had to raise far larger sails on my own.”

“Oh?” Gregory intones, in that somewhat insulting, politely dubious note.

“The trouble with being a large man and an able seaman is you’re expected to do all sorts of things that a captain should really put two to do.”

Greg traces along the wheel with a small shrug and a well-familiar avoidant sort of tease. “Are you saying you don’t contain the strength of two men?”

“And more, Gregory,” Tom says, leaning on his elbow to get a few scant inches closer, as he lifts his voice with a boisterous hum. “But it is simply impudent to demand it without proper remuneration.”

Gregory huffs in a breath and looks back up with a neat sweep of his lashes. He seems to stare into Tom for a few beats, then those stormy eyes flick past him toward the sea, scanning along the horizon with an reverential sort of interest.

“I think we shall only sail a few miles out, today,” Tom says, looking back to the foresail and spilling it a bit to keep the ship simply ghosting gentle across the now open water. He wanders in closer to the wheel and Greg, keeping an eye up, but she seems steady in the mild breeze. “Enough to escape the noise.”

“We haven’t gotten to, um… to speak alone in a long while,” Gregory says, reaching up, toying with a button on his vest, as he moves to make Tom some space at the wheel. “My mother has had me… quite occupied.”

Tom suspects heavily that the Lady Roy more accurately noticed that much of Gregory’s precious wooing time was being spent whiled away with Tom, to some similar effect, rather than eligible matches. It has been to some relief that she hasn’t seemed scandalized, more irked at threats to lofty plans. The same result has occurred, either way, of Gregory and Tom rarely having a similar schedule of attendance to events for these past months. It’s a bit of a shock that Gregory ever got Tom’s letters, not to mention that he managed to escape to come out today, but perhaps she’s busy working at some other opportunity of establishing them in the ton.

“And?” Tom prompts, against the relative quiet of water and wind around them. “Any happy developments I’ve missed?”

“Uh, I…” Greg exhales a shallow breath, sweeping some fingers to straighten hair behind an ear. He offers a narrow, suspicious look, as he quietly begins to speak. “Some? I-I have spent time speaking to and dancing with the Contessa of Luxembourg, who Cousin Roman has attempted some courting of, as well.”

“I haven’t spoken to Miss Joëlle much,” Tom says, managing a smile while turning to look upon Gregory with a lift of his brows in strained interest. He cannot imagine what Gregory might have found in common with that Contessa, aside for mutually pretending not to be somewhat French. “Is she quite intelligent company?”

Gregory opens his mouth and tilts his head with a slight furrow of his brows. He clears his throat, shallowly, “Miss Joëlle?”

“The Contessa of Luxembourg, Gregory,” Tom says, as some considerable amount of the tightness eases just beneath his sternum. He badly swallows a laugh, leaning against the wood rail of the boat. “Who is, I thought, an eligible woman you’ve found interest in?”

“Oh,” Gregory says, eyes briefly widening, then his head drops, lifting a hand to trace across his mouth. “Of-of course, yes… Miss Joëlle.”

“Hm,” Tom intones, a smirk threatening to curve his lip, and he lifts a hand to edge it away with his thumb. He looks up at the sails, then down the hull cutting water, as they sail pleasantly along a calm sea with the coast fading behind them.

“It is, ah – ” Gregory says, his voice lifting, then weakening, as his brow just slightly furrows over his eyes. “…Serene?”

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Tom says, looking over his shoulder across the water and along the faint line of the town. He looks up and gently reaches out to turn the wheel, directing the bow against the breeze to further slow the boat. “Hm… certainly, no rumble of polite society anywhere in the vicinity.”

“Polite society an-and terrible company,” Gregory says, lifting a hand and sweeping it across his forehead to straighten his windswept hair. He walks toward the center of the boat, fingers gently toying along a rope, as he follows it. “Unbearable, one might even, uh – even say, without you… around to distract.”

Tom is thankful for the stillness of the day, as he cannot help but to follow, leaving the wheel to creak but not spin nor divert behind him.

Gregory leans against a mast, face turned up toward the sun with line casting shadows across it. He looks like a portrait of a bonny seafarer that Tom would pay a month’s salary to hang in his office simply to stare at; a sight enough to divert from any boredom.

“I could say the same,” Tom says, hesitantly lifting a hand to set against the mast, fingers spread wide along the wood only hairsbreadth away from Greg’s face. “A terrible soreness has been sitting beneath my ribs like a sickness.”

Gregory turns his head, cheek settling warm against the edge of Tom’s thumb. His eyes peek open, a smile smally turning up across his face.

“Yet upon seeing you towering in your way on the dock, it disappeared entirely,” Tom says, leaning in a bit closer, tutting under his breath while tilting his head up. He uses his other hand to mime yanking something from his neck. “The leeches will have to be put away for the next bout.”

Gregory now grins outright, a quiet huff escaping him. His eyes sweep across the deck, tongue wetting his lip. “You said earlier… you typically have crew?”

“I did say,” Tom agrees, feeling a touch of heat in his ears at the implication; that he’d brought out Gregory alone and that Gregory is quite aware. “A man for each mast.”

Gregory briefly looks upward at the mast above him, then drops his eyes back down to Tom with a thoughtful hum. “If you’re two men, then I am as well – and that is one more than you usually have.”

“Oh?” Tom says, lifting a brow while barely quieting a snort at the idea of Greg, who is, while certainly large, a bit of a studious dandy, as any sort of able seaman. “Is that so?”

“It is, uh – you know, quite simple math,” Greg says, his accent briefly thickening, as he visibly swallows, as well as slipping a pair of fingers beneath his cravat. “That the two of us alone… may get more accomplished than you with such a crew.”

Tom uses a rock of the boat to lean closer, lifting his chin, as a smirk curls at the edge of his mouth. “Mister Hirsch, you are threatening to be very forward.”

“I – I only…” Gregory tilts his head, as his fingers bow scratch along his upper lip. “I certainly believe that we could be productive.”

Tom has only had the bravery enough to stretch boundaries while among the ton, cornering Gregory into eaves and dark halls, hooking an arm around him and taunting often into his ear about how improper they could be… Perhaps, they may have gotten further had Gregory’s enterprising mother not caught on, but as it is, he hasn’t seen Gregory in some many weeks, exchanged only few letters and fewer promises, so he presently could about burn from the heels up at this turnabout.

He manages to calmly turn his hand, to crook his fingers against Gregory’s jaw, to hold his face there to look up into, as he lifts his own chin to better peer mildly at Gregory from his lashes. He slowly smirks, watching color rise in Gregory’s face while that heart shaped mouth presses into a lovely, pouting moue.

“Thomas, ar-are you taunting me?”

“Would I?” Tom asks, furrowing his brow in a slight, somewhat intentionally condescending impression of curiosity.

Gregory becomes even more pinched and threatens sullen. “You would.”

Tom scoffs through his nose and digs his thumb harder into Greg’s chin, prompting him to tuck it, then leans up, as nervous heat bursts across his neck and jaw. He hasn’t kissed or been kissed in a particularly long time, and never with anyone taller than him, but as lips part against his own, it is easy to only perceive their resulting clacking teeth and nose bumping as simply charm.

Gregory hums a few pitching notes, scrambling cool fingers against Tom’s jaw and under his shirt collar. He seems about as practiced as Tom, mouth clumsily smacking, as if somehow surprised, and so eager that he might truly be trying to inhale again Tom’s gasping breaths.

The kiss pauses at a particularly loud creak of the boat, a brief wake off a larger ship in the distance turning to spray misting against the hull. Tom feels exposed all of a sudden, a bit caught, but manages to ignore an instinct to look around; he’s comforted, in an odd way, when Gregory doesn’t manage the same, large eyes sweeping to the side around them.

“I haven’t taken you down to see below deck, have I?” Tom says, managing to sound thoughtful, he hopes, rather than strained and desperate. His breeches are tight at the clasps, his skin feels prickling with heat that has little to do with the sun, and his cravat is gone to the breeze, all blame falling to the man in front of him. “It’s cramped even to a dog, but I’m sure… very sure you’ll fit somewhere.”

Gregory wets his lips with a glance down at the conspicuous set of small doors to Tom’s right. He looks about stretched thin as Tom feels, his fingers clutched in the back of Tom’s now-rumpled vest, and exhales a weak puff of air. “Ye-yes, I – I should think so.”

Tom laughs under his breath, all he can really manage, and cannot help but steal another kiss. He does not often go below deck himself for a typical day sail, quite cramped, but he’s certain it’s as tidy as when he checked it before bringing them out. He has wine and fresh bread for a snack tucked down there, as well, and has an idle thought that he hopes Gregory doesn’t notice it, as he has a tendency to be distracted like a hound.

“Oh,” Gregory says, once the doors open, his eyes somewhat like saucers down at the shadowed entrance down into the cabin. “I… I see.”

“It’s much better than it appears,” Tom promises, setting a knee against the top of the lip with a tut, then glancing up with a jerk of his chin. “But if you’d prefer, I could spread you out against mast and post as a burlesque of the Savior.”

Gregory makes a wheezy, choked noise – one part amused, two parts scandalized – and rather one of Tom’s favorites to elicit. “Non, no – ” he bends and presses a dry, clumsy kiss to Tom’s mouth, leaning hard with a palm heavy on his shoulder. “That is silly.”

Tom catches Gregory’s wrist with a squeeze, drawing him back down with a palm wide along his cheek. He could happily lay Gregory down on the deck, uncomfortable but warm, smelling of salty sea, and expose inch by inch of him to the warm sun. The trouble, most truly, is they’re just enough close to the coast that some other pair of eyes might see him while sailing by, and Tom would then have to kill them.

“Or you could have silks and feather pillows,” Tom says, pulling back, but not letting go, running a thumb along the jut of bone on Gregory’s wide wrist. “I’ve had it well appointed for myself, and now for you.”

Gregory briefly rolls his eyes, but he seems taken, as well, palm squeezing into Tom’s shoulder, and his eyes eventually settle onto the doors. He murmurs something under his breath, then exhales a huffy sigh. “You should then descend first.”

Tom throws a hand up and angles to stand with a push of his knee, feeling Gregory’s hand slide off his shoulder. He slips with practices ease down the ladder to the cabin, blinking to force his eyes to adjust, then lifts a hand to offer it in what is meant to be a taunt, but… well, Gregory does take it in evident earnest.

Gregory hesitates down the ladder, then ducks and visibly peers around the dim cabin once his feet have hit the bottom. His arm has drifts up Tom’s elbow, fingers softly gripped against the fabric, and he turns, lips parting, only to hastily, somewhat clumsily lean further down for a kiss rather than to offer an opinion.

Tom has never been more thankful for how much dirty British money he’s pumped into this ship than he is right now, carefully directing Greg down onto a wide silk-lined bench that had once been a space for powder kegs. He groans, somewhat startled, as long fingers eagerly tear at his vest and under his shirt, slipping along his waistband.

He groans low, as Gregory’s hand squeezes at him through his breeches. “Aren’t you a… a stallion out here quite hot to trot –”

“Not only me,” Gregory murmurs, breath hot, lashes fluttering closed, as Tom takes advantage of the angle to nip at the thin skin where his collarbones meet. “Yo-you were teasing, surely… pulling at the sails in your shirt sleeves.”

“No.” Tom exhales a rasping huff between kisses. “Honestly, no.”

Tom manages to get into the flap of Greg’s breeches with only some difficulty against the buttons, entirely the fault of his rushing pulse. He swallows harshly when he feels Gregory’s bare dick twitch against his palm, suffers the fine, bony fingers grasping at his shoulder, and hears the groan against his ear, and is certain he must have fallen into a dream. He shoos Gregory’s actually teasing hand from his own breeches and shifts onto a knee between lanky, splayed thighs, drawing his own hard, aching cock from the flap.

It is to some inconsequential discomfort that they rut like animals against each other on the sofa, mouths wetly smacking and urging each other to completion with shifting hands and tightly flexing thighs. It is a step above any dark room in a snooty society townhouse and twice as could be satisfying, certainly; the gentle rock of his own prize ship to accompany the sparking, throbbing shock of his cock emptying onto Gregory’s soft, pale stomach.

Tom laps at Gregory’s mouth to capture all the whiny, whimpering pants of his soon coming underneath him. It is music, truly, far better than any seasoned performer, though he’d certainly agree to hold practice as often as possible in this particular case.

The activity would’ve been far better held in the roughly classified captain’s quarters, appointed with a rather nice full cot, but there is something to be understood for the desperation between them. The wine is closer at hand, as well, for when Tom might regain the energy to reach for it. He sweeps a hand along Gregory’s dark, soft hair, smiling absently at the planked ceiling, then smacks his lips, as a thought occurs he should probably care a bit more about than almost not at all.

“Should I be looking for a bayonet in my back courtesy the Lady Roy?”

“No, I did tell her I… was off to visit with the Contess-ah, Joëlle,” Gregory says, shifting awkwardly against the hull wall along the width of the sofa. “But… she may well know. She, uh – she is aware I-I have little interest in… pursuits of maidenly company.”

Tom quirks a brow, tracing a knuckle down Gregory’s jaw. It certainly explains the… noticeable lack of dithering about putting that overlarge hand on Tom’s breeches. “Oh?”

“She used to say it was a relief,” Gregory mutters, sounding somewhat wistful, as his head turns against the cushion. His mouth twitches downward, plainly frustrated, “But it is now…” He sighs, eyes closing, “C’est n’importe quoi.”

“Ah, well...” Tom tuts shortly, as he tucks Gregory’s head further into the crook of his arm. He gestures out with the other, toward the dim impression of the rest of the cabin. “As you’ve decided already, we’re more than enough crew to sail this beauty ourselves.”

Gregory hums a pitch while his eyes peek open. “As a – a what; a fishing vessel?”

“So little imagination, you have,” Tom scoffs, rolling his eyes, and he feels a grin curve sharply at his lips. “Pirates, clearly, as if there’s anything else to be escaping marriage matches by way of the sea.”

Gregory visibly chews at his lip. “…There are no more pirates, Thomas.”

“I couldn’t care,” Tom says, curving his arm tighter and hearing a slight choke, quite deserved, while shifting his head to set his chin against the crown of Gregory’s mussed hair. “I will call myself what I like.”

#tomgreg #quite short and briefly smutty #i got really into researching small schooners i watched documentaries even on JUST schooners #didnt use a lick of it

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