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wambsgansshoelaces · 4 days

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Juvenile

Dan Eagan x Reader

errr so this is pretty shit but I promised a post so uhhh I’m sorry I promise it’ll get better just let me het into writing veep style I’d love to take requests 🙏🏽

pls don’t cringe too hard have fun I love you dan pls kiss me dan

Word Count: 1.452k

“Oh, fuck off,” you repeat for what you feel like is the thousandth time. Working for the VEEP is obviously a dream come true- you’d worked your entire life for this, and you’re damn good at your job too.

But of course, a man has to fuck it up for you.

Some jerk has come up from some senator’s office to talk with Selina, and unfortunately for you, he’s snagged right onto you on his way there.

“You kiss the VEEP with that mouth?” he asks, depositing himself on your desk, fuck-ass grin plastered on his face. You suck on your teeth, trying not to lose your shit. You make a weak attempt at ignoring the interloper, instead waving at Ed after he smiles at you shuffles into Selina’s office. “What’s Mr. Dry Spaghetti doing in there before me?”

“Madame Vice President has her priorities,” you reply simply, starting on some paperwork.

Instead of fucking off to wait his turn, like you’d hoped he would, his ass stays firmly on top of the pretty wood of your desk. A shame, you think, the wood is being desecrated.

“More time for the two of us, then?”

“I’d prefer not to.” You don’t look up from your work.

“Oh, come on.”

“I have work to do.” You abruptly stand from your desk chair, crossing the room to pretend like you’re doing something. Mike thankfully gives you a brief respite from what’s about to turn into a living hell, asking you about the difference between matcha and green tea. “What’d Selina ask for?”

“She asked for green tea, but I can’t tell if she means like the ones in the Arizona cans or like tea that’s green, which would be matcha, wouldn’t it?”

“Well, matcha isn’t tea,” you say back, a smile finally gracing your face. “So I’m assuming she meant green tea.”

“Do I just say that? I want some green tea?”

“That’s typically how you order things from places, yes. Where’s Gary? Isn’t this his job?”

“Probably having an anxious breakdown in a bathroom,” Mike mutters.

“Sounds more like you.”

“Where’s Dan?” he asks, changing the subject. “He’s supposed to have a statement for me…” He trails off, walking away from you and the conversation.

To your disappointment, your happiness is short lived. You feel a hand ghost on the small of your back, and it seems that Senate boy hasn’t gotten the hint.

“Do you need any help? I can make quick work of whatever it is you’re doing.”

“No, I’m fine,” you say harshly.

He takes you by the hip this time, turning you to face him. “How about we go out, then? Brunch? Lunch? Anything.” Your face flushes, your lips begin to form a scowl. Before you can yell at him, cuss him out, anything, Ed shuffles his way back out of Selina’s office and beelines it to you. He awkwardly pushes himself in between you and Senate boy, swatting his hand off of you.

Ed shoos the Senate boy into Selina’s office, giving you a pat on the shoulder on his way out. You murmur your thanks and goodbyes before wandering back to your desk to work in peace.

You manage to get a bit of work done, but your focus begins to waver as you hear Selina’s voice rising. Mike rushes back in, doing that goofy run of his, and pushes one of Selina’s office doors open. He barely gets to speak before he’s interrupted.

“Ma’am, I have that green tea you wa-”

“If you don’t have the fucking draft by tomorrow, ma’am, you’re in a WHOLE new black hole of shit-”

“You really think you can talk to me like that? I’ll have you know-”

Mike backs away from the doors, letting them click shut. He places the cup on your desk. “Your problem now. Where the fuck is Dan?”

Senate boy follows Mike closely out the door, practically screaming obscenities, and the ink on one of your documents suddenly becomes the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. “And don’t think I’ll forget how the Vice President treated me as a honored guest,” he shouts, voice tripping in venom. “And for the record, I never wanted to go out with and ugly fucking bitch like you, anyway.” You blink, barely registering the words spat in your direction. “Fuck off, Eagan, so I can come for your job so shit can actually get done here.”

He shoves past Dan, who’s standing in the doorway with his jaw ticking. “Oh, eat shit,” he mutters back. “Was he talking you you?” He comes over to you, setting the statement Mike’s been running after all morning gently on your desk.

“He’s just butthurt,” you manage, face heated. While you hadn’t taken anything he’d said personally, because Senate boy looked like an ingrown toenail and had the maturity of a spring onion, he’d made a scene in front of the entire office. And your ego wasn’t small enough to not be a bit bruised. You take Selina’s forgotten green tea and quickly run it to her. Dan follows, hands stuffed In his pockets.

“That’s Dale? From Senator Warrith’s office?” he asks, watching Selina pinch the bridge of her nose, wordlessly accepting her drink and demanding you and Dan piss off from her office.

He follows you back to your desk, his eyes staying on you. “I don’t know his name,” you say exasperatedly. You tap at the documents Dan’d set on your desk moments earlier. “Mike’s been looking for these.”

He leans against your desk as you sit down. “I know. That’s why I gave them to you.” You can’t help but smile, properly filing the papers away to be put on Selina’s desk. “What, are you just going to let him talk to you like that?”

“What can I do? File a complaint?” You scoff. “There’d be more use in me sending letters to Santa.”

“I’m not going to let him talk to you like that.” He cards a hand through his hair. “You’re on the Jonad drive.”

“You’re going to bully him?” you ask, laughing.

“Of course I’m going to bully him. It always works.” He raps once on your desk with his knuckles before he straightens out. “I’m going to go visit Shrimp Dick.”

“Shrimp Dick? That’s the best you can do?”

“Shrimp Dick is the least of what’s going to happen to him. It’s factual, too.”

“Can we stop saying shrimp dick? I’m on the phone,” Sue states, expression sharp.

“Point is,” Dan continues, keeping his focus on you, “you will be avenged.”

You make a face. “What are we, twelve? This is all so juvenile, Dan.”

He shrugs. “Just making sure you know.” He adjusts his tie, taking a few steps in the direction of the exit, before turning right back to you. “You’re not ugly. Or a bitch,” he says too loudly. His face pinkens. “Just making sure you know.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Later that day, you’re running between buildings, trying to get ready for a prep release, when you hear your name murmured in conversation.

“I don’t give a shit if he’s that goose that fucking lays golden eggs, Senator Warrith. He harassed a close colleague of mine, and I can’t even begin on his attitude towards Madame Vice President.” You can recognize Dan’s voice. You’ve been hearing it for long enough. “I mean, he walked in like he owned the place, disrespected everyone, shouted at Madame VEEP, and threatened me, so by proxy, her. I really don’t see how you can tolerate anything of the sort.”

You try to make it past them unnoticed, but the two finish their conversation as soon as you’re near. Dan peels away from the senator, falling into step beside you. The two of you stay in a comfortable silence for a bit before he speaks. “I’m sorry if anything I did made you uncomfortable.”

“What, you? You didn’t do anything wrong.” You both stop before the press room, stealing moments for yourselves. “You hit your head? I’ve never heard you apologize to anyone before.”

He smiles at you before ducking his head down to inspect his dress shoes. “Dale won’t be around anymore.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal, Dan.”

“Naw, nobody liked him, anyway.” He brushes an imaginary speck of dust off of your shoulder. “They also found evidence of fraud. Which I might’ve pointed them in the direction of. They also all call him Shrimp Dick now.”

You reach out, pulling his blazer shut and straightening his tie. “Well, thank you for caring.” You even out his collar. “In your own little neurotic way.”

“I like caring about you. It’s… nice.”

#dan eagan #dan eagan x reader #dan eagan oneshot #veep #veep x reader #veep fic #veep hbo #cries I’ve lost my writing power

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wambsgansshoelaces · 6 days

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Turmoil; Chapter 10

Roman Roy x Reader

short but oh well! kind of sucks but soo la voo as the french say (pls understand that reference)

let me know what u think x I’ve missed this

Word Count: 2.022k

We need to figure things out. Now.”

Your arms are folded over your chest. You’re stood, Kendall and Shiv sat down on the plush sofa in your office.

Roman pipes in from across the room. “And it’s not me.”

Kendall and Shiv eye each other. “Realistically, it’s me,” Kendall says first. “I’ve been at the company the longest in the position closest to CEO. I’m the logical choice.”

“Who gives a shit who’s kissed Dad’s ass the most?” Shiv interrupts. “I’d bring better business. I’d be better for a rebrand- we could become ethical for once.”

“Okay, Shiv, while that’s respectable, the company would collapse before you could do any of that.” Kendall leans back, crossing his ankle over his knee. “You can’t make changes to a company that you can’t keep alive.”

Roman’s crossed the room to stand near you, intently inspecting the curtains on the windows overlooking the city. “Nice fabric,” he murmurs to you, glancing back at you to make sure he has your attention. You can tell he’s not comfortable with anything that’s happening at the moment. But he’ll stick it out because you have to be here. He’s thinking of you more and more, these days.

He doesn’t know what to do with all these new feelings. New sensations.

Kendall and Shiv glare at each other, words passing between them in a language you’ll never understand. Roman turns back to the curtain, clearly anxious, linking one of your pinkies with his.

“The way I see it, you both are the right decision. Just do it together,” you tell them. “Two CEOs, Kenny handles the nitty gritty and Shiv does all of the media stuff. Problem solved.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Shiv manages through gritted teeth.

“Is it really?” you question. “Because that’s my offer. If you want my help, it’s both of you take over the company after we go to court. Or it’s neither.”

It’s ridiculous of you to do so, but you know it’s the only way you’ll get them both on board. You were never going to give it to anyone else, anyway.

“Didn’t know we were on Shark Tank,” Kendall mutters. “But fine. I’ll do it if you do,” he says, turning to Shiv. She heaves a sigh.

“Fine.”

“Fucking finally,” Roman says. He’s sitting in your desk chair now, feet reclined. “Actually, no. You both caved too fast.”

“Oh, shut up, Roman. They agreed to it, let’s fucking make sure it stays like that.” He catches your eyes and makes a face at you. You ignore him, turning your attention back to Kendall and Shiv. “We should speak to Connor.”

Shiv scoffs. “And say what?”

“He could be what wins us the case. Do you know how valuable he’d be as a witness?” you ask, watching the gears turn in Kendall’s head. “The fact that he was framed could be all we need to send your dad packing. We just need some hard evidence.”

“It’s worth I shot, I think,” Kendall offers. “If Shiv doesn’t want to do it, I will.”

“No, no, we’re doing it together. Honestly, Roman should come, too.” She turns to glance at him, over relaxed at your desk. “I think there’s a lot of things we need to talk about as a family, anyway.”

Kendall stands, clapping his hands together. “Well, I’m glad we figured this out.” His neck’s tense, a smile out of place on his strained face. He stands still for a moment, taking a breath. His shoulders sag, relaxing, and he adjusts his tie before coming to give you a hug.

A little surprised, you weakly return it, giving his back a light rub. Every muscle your hand glides over is taut.

Whatever’s going on in his head, you know you’re going to hear about it later.

He pats your back, squeezing you tight. “You’re a godsend,” he says, his voice suddenly warm and light, a stark comparison to his previous stiffness. “Thank you,” is all he says before he leaves, nodding at Roman, not sparing Shiv a glance.

“Fucking hell,” she manages, grabbing her purse and getting to her feet. She doesn’t say goodbye. She doesn’t even look at you, merely stalking out of your office after Kendall.

Roman rocks backwards in your chair, watching his siblings through the glass panes of your office walls. “They’re not doing that shit.”

“Not doing what?” You slide onto the edge of your desk, glancing over at him.

“The CEO thing. They’ll rip each other’s throats out before they even get near that.” He picks up a trinket from your desk, handling it delicately. “Cute.”

You sigh. “They’re going to have to suck it up until the court case They can do whatever the fuck they want after the company’s theirs.”

He starts spinning himself around in your chair. “Crazy thought,” he begins on spin one, “you give it to neither of them. Steal from the rich and give to the poor. Robin Hood.” He spins again.

“What, just walk out onto the street and choose some hobo to become Prince Ali?”

He snorts. Another spin. “Not the poor poor. The millionaire poor. Or something.” He spins again. “They won’t be able to handle it. They’ll implode. All of this buddy buddy stuff-” he flaps a hand at the windows, Kendall and Shiv long gone “-won’t ever happen again.” He sticks his leg out to halt his whirling, facing you. “And I… I don’t really want that. It’d… I can’t just watch our relationship disintegrate like that.”

☾𖤓

You straighten your blazer, Cherry flitting about your office straightening things out. She’s paranoid like that- always has been. You treat her well, she treats you well. What started out as a symbiotic relationship is now a genuine friendship, one that you’ve both nurtured and hope to continue nurturing.

“If he screams, I’ll run in with the fire axe,” she mutters to herself. “Self defense.”

“This building has a fire axe?” You take a manila file from an assistant who’s rushing by, setting them on your desk.

“What do you know about Siobhan?” Cherry asks suddenly. “Other than that she’s a Roy.”

You round your desk, slipping into your chair and spreading various documents just the way you like them. “She’s sweet when she’s not scheming.” Your eyes snag on a sticky note pasted to the surface of your desk.

You’ve come to recognize Roman’s handwriting when you see it. It’s his messy script on the Post-It, his messy doodles. It’s only one word- hi, the rest of the paper covered in hearts and shitty stick figures. He’d labeled two for you, the both of them holding hands, a heart floating between their heads. Y/N and Roman, he’d written, a cloud of hearts surrounding his script.

You bite your lip, suppressing a smile. You peel the sticky from your desk, resticking it to on of your desktop monitors.

Cherry’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “She’s really pretty in real life,” she says hesitantly, straightening out a portrait on your wall.

“Oh?” You let yourself smile now. “Is she ugly on TV? I think someone's a bit lovesick,” you say, watching her fumble with the frame.

Her face flushes pink. “Is she even into girls?”

“I’ll ask for you.” She opens her mouth to protest, but one of the front desk receptionists buzzes in to your desk phone. You make a face at Cherry, watching her scuttle from the room with a stupid grin on her face, her middle finger stuck out at you.

“Mr. Roy is on his way up. He refused to sign in,” the receptionist says, irritated.

“Thank you, Garrett,” you say back, making quick note to do something nice for your staff once everything was done and over with.

Before you know it, Connor’s sat across from you, grin on his face. “L/N, about time you had me in.” He settles into the armchair, his skinny limbs splaying at awkward angles. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.” His expression is as confident as you’ve seen it, his eyes carrying a relief you haven’t seen before.

“Don’t worry. I could never forget about you,” you say coyly, gathering a few papers and stacking them.

“Well, come on.” He shifts in his seat. “What’s the big news? You must’ve finally let me in for a reason. I’m not as stupid as Pops says I am. I know you’re avoiding me.”

You feel a pang in your chest. You’ve thought all of this over thousands of times, and each time, you’ve felt worse and worse for Connor. The poor guy just wants to be happy. And in the end, so did you. How could you ever hate someone for that?

“It is big news,” you say, smiling softly. You paperclip the sheets together before sliding them into the manila folder that’d you’d set on your desk earlier. You paste the kindest, most benevolent expression onto your face as you hand him the folder. “You’re being served.”

You can see his heart stop.

“Sorry?”

You use a pen to gesture at the folder. “You’re being served,” you repeat. “I’m suing you.” You keep your words clipped, yet soft. You still feel bad for him, in the end. He’s just a pawn in this sick and twisted game, same as you. Might as well give him grace.

Connor breaks down before you. “I thought they were joking,” he manages. “Just trying to scare me.” He drops his head into his hands.

“Siobhan and Kendall aren’t your father,” you say gently. They’d gone to speak with him, as they’d agreed, but Roman had strangely not shown up. He’d given you a quick excuse when you’d asked him at home, the words rolling quickly off of his tongue. “And I’m not, either.”

Connor’s face is tear stained when he looks back up at you. “I have nothing,” he tells you. “Nothing, and I keep losing, I keep going into debt…” He wipes at his eyes, struggling to speak.

“I can help.” You unlock a compartment in your desk, taking out the paperwork you’ve been painstakingly working on since you met with Logan in that restaurant you’ve come to hate. You slide it towards Connor. The papers are structured similarly to the ones you’ve already handed him, but the defendant’s name is different.

His fingers begin worrying at the bottom of his sweater. You notice it’s beginning to fray. He looks over the papers, his features still drawn in a heartbreaking mixture of pain and desperation. “What’s this all mean?”

“That I can right some wrongs for you.” You keep your eyes locked on him, despite his avoidance of your gaze. “More importantly, I could get you a lot of money. You won’t have to keep scrambling. You won’t have to resort to crime, which, by the way, you never had to do.”

“How does this change things?” he asks quietly, his eyes trained on one part of the first paper in his hands. You know what he’s looking at.

“Things won’t ever be the same with him, Connor,” you murmur. “But they haven’t been good for a while. He can only use you for as long as you let him.” He sets the papers on your desk with shaky hands. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’m just urging you to think through your options. I’m here to help… he’s not. You’re just a means to an end for him.”

“I’ll do it,” he says immediately. “I’ll do it. I’ve been doing the wrong thing for too long. It’s time I righted my wrongs,” he says, reusing your words. “I can finally right my wrongs.” All of a sudden, he’s out of his chair and has thrown his arms around you. You’re stiff with surprise in your chair, only for a moment, until you awkwardly return the hug. He’s struggling to breathe, but doing a good job of hiding it. He quickly straightens up, composing himself. “I’ll do good this time. I promise.”

“I believe you.”

“I’m so fucking grateful that you do.”

#roman roy #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #succession #succession hbo #wambsgansshoelaces #succession x reader #succession fic #turmoil

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