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downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 21 days

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Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 2

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 5030 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together.

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

(6 Months Later)

Dick Grayson looked up at the Carr family home from his car, apprehensive to open the door just yet. It was a nice home, and from the research Dick did, a nice family lived there too.

His eyes trailed to the apartment situated above the garage, imagining the people who were inside. How were they going to react when he told them what he was there for? Scratch that, how were they going to react when they saw him?

'Should I go take a nap or are you going to man up and go inside at some point?' Oracle's sarcastic voice came through the car's bluetooth.

Dick clenched his hands around the steering wheel. Barbara - newly named Oracle - was right. It didn't matter what his friends were going to say. He needed their help, and he needed to man up.

Dick finally unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door. 'I'll call you when I'm done,' he said, then ended the call before Barbara could sneak in another witty remark.

He made haste running up the Carr's driveway, then up the stairs to the apartment above the garage. As he raised his hand to knock on the door, he heard laughter and lively chatter that made him pause. An overwhelming sense of guilt and shame and longing surged through him. Was he really going to break up the joy beyond the door? Once upon a time he would've been glad for a party, for a break from work and his vigilante duties.

His mind flashed back to that first party him and his friends had in Mount Justice. It was Wally's birthday and he had been lapping up all the attention, especially from M'gann, who had made him a cake and had in fact organised the whole party. This was before Wally realised him and Artemis were meant to be, same with Connor and M'gann.

But Y/N had known, had even pointed it out to Dick as they sat in the corner just the two of them, watching everything play out.

'They're all so thick,' Y/N said, taking a sip of her lemonade, trying to hide her knowing smile.

'How so?' Dick asked.

Y/N rolled her eyes. 'Can you not see?' She grabbed Dick's chin and guided him to look at Connor and M'gann interacting awkwardly but in a cute way, then Wally and Artemis "fighting", matching wit for wit with every snarky comment they threw at each other. 'Connor and M'gann are so into each other, and you could cut the emotional tension between Wally and Artemis it's so thick. They are all crushing hard.'

Dick watched the two couples interact a little longer and realised Y/N was right. 'Well would you look at that,' he said, turning back to Y/N. 'You're quite the observer, aren't you?'

Y/N chuckled. 'Dick, we've been best friends for three years now. If you're just figuring that out now, then you're just as thick as the rest of our friends.'

'Hey! I am not!'

'Are to.'

'Am. Not!'

'Are. To!'

The two fell into hysterical laughter, gripping onto one another so they didn't fall to the ground.

Y/N's smile came to him then, and the longing in his chest ached even more. She was more than likely beyond the door too, laughing and smiling without a care in the world. He suddenly had the thought that he couldn't go through with it. He couldn't possibly ask them - couldn't ask her - to help him. Not after what he'd done...

Before he could chicken out completely, he forced himself to knock lightly on the door.

'I'll get it,' M'gann's sweet voice called out to whoever she was with, and Dick prepared himself as he heard her walk to the door.

M'gann opened the door, and she was smiling, the remnants of laughter twinkling in her eyes. She was in her human form, but it had changed since the last time Dick saw her. Her ginger hair was now cropped just under her ears, and her features were sharper, more refined than that of a young adolescent. She wore a flattering white blouse and casual jeans, not bothering for shoes in her own home.

She was grown up. In just two years?

Her brown eyes locked with Dick's blue ones, and immediately her smile dropped as shock froze her face.

Dick offered her a small smile 'Hi, M'gann,' he said softly.

'Dick...' was all she could manage as she continued to look at him, eyes raking over him as if she were imagining things. 'What are you doing here?'

'Honey, who is it?'

Dick's guilt deepened at the sound of Connor's voice. The Superboy himself came to the door when M'gann didn't answer, and stopped in his tracks as soon as he laid eyes on Dick. But he didn't stay shocked for long.

Connor furrowed his eyebrows and stepped up behind M'gann, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. 'What are you doing here?' he asked icily, eyes solely focussed on Dick.

It hurt to see such distrust in his old friend's eyes, but Dick somewhat expected that. 'Nice to see you too, Connor,' he said, slipping into his casual, carefree persona easily. If there was one thing Dick was really good at, it was putting on a mask. 'I was in the neighbourhood and thought I'd swing by. It's been a while.'

'Why don't you answer my question first before you start acting like nothing is wrong,' Connor suggested, his voice taking a deep threatening tone.

'Connor, please,' M'gann said, seemingly getting over her initial shock. She placed her left hand over Connor's on her shoulder, and that's when Dick saw the shiny diamond ring on her finger. 'He's our friend.'

Dick didn't think his guilt could worsen at those three words.

M'gann opened the door wider and offered him a small smile. 'Come in, Dick. We'd love for you to join us.'

Dick flashed her a grateful smile. 'Thanks,' he said as he ducked through the doorway. He then looked from M'gann to Connor and back again. 'Congratulations, by the way.'

M'gann looked confused for a moment, then a joyful twinkle flashed in her eyes as she looked to her ring, a soft smile gracing her features. 'Thank you, Dick,' she said. 'That's what we're actually celebrating. Come on, there is food and drinks this way.'

M'gann walked back towards the party, but Connor and Dick remained in the entrance, staring at one another.

Dick took Connor in. Because of his clone genetics, Connor never actually aged. Not physically anyways. He'd changed ever so slightly from when Dick first broke him out of Cadmus, only growing a centimetre or two every year or so. His muscles had toned more having entered his theoretical twenties, and but his face still held onto those baby features he'd had since being replicated as a teenaged Superman.

Dick sized himself up against Connor and shockingly found that, for the first time, they were looking at each other eye to eye.

Connor seemed to scan Dick, too, coming to the same conclusion that Dick had changed too since they last saw each other. Dick waited for Connor to say something, but when Connor was done he gave Dick a stone cold grimace then turned to follow M'gann.

'What a warm reunion,' Dick mumbled under breath as he followed Connor down the hallway.

The hallway opened into an open-floor plan that held the kitchen, the dinning room and the lounge. Dick expected a few more people to be waiting for them, but he only spotted Kaldur lounging on the couch, drink in hand. Being the vigilant person he was, Kaldur immediately recognised Dick and placed his drink on the coffee table as he stood up.

'Dick,' he said, teal eyes wide with surprise.

'Hey, Kaldur,' Dick greeted awkwardly, ready for the same cold treatment as Connor.

Instead, Kaldur's face broke into a warm smile as he manoeuvred around the furniture to make his way to Dick. 'Old friend,' he said as he embraced Dick. 'It has been too long.'

'It sure has, buddy,' Dick responded, returning his friend's embrace.

Kaldur released him, but kept his hand on Dick's shoulder as he scanned over him. 'Look at you! You seem to be healthy and strong.'

It was true. Dick had noticed he'd muscled up a little more since leaving the team, though still keeping towards the leaner side of muscular. He certainly wasn't has bulk as Connor, or Kaldur for that fact, who Dick noted also had more muscles and toned features. Kaldur certainly filled out the black button-up he wore. But, as it was with Connor, Dick was happy to see him looking directly in Kaldur's eyes as they spoke, not from slightly below as it had been since they were children.

'Thanks man,' Dick said. 'Been working out. I see you've been doing the same, Aquaman.'

'My King left some large shoes to fill,' Kladur admitted humbly. 'But thank you.'

'So you know of Kaldur's promotion, but couldn't contact him to say congrats when it happened?' Connor interjected from his place in the kitchen.

M'gann scolded him as she placed some plates on the dining table, but the mood had already changed to tense and quiet.

'Connor's right,' Dick admitted, addressing his three friends. 'I'm sorry. These past two years... I should've stayed in contact. I wanted to. But every time I went to, I convinced myself that you didn't want to hear from me. That it would be better to leave you all be while I try to figure out myself again.'

'Oh Dick,' M'gann started, walking around the table to pull him into a hug. 'Of course we wanted to hear from you. You're our friend and we missed you. But we understand that after Wally died, you had to take a break from everything.'

M'gann pulled away and then pointed an accusatory finger at him, looking extremely cross with him. 'But if you ever do anything like that again, I swear I will hunt you down and kick your sorry ass into another universe. Understood?'

Dick nodded vigorously. 'U-Understood.'

M'gann's sweet demeanour returned and she walked back to the table to continue setting it. The three men looked at her quietly as she went about her work, until Dick turned to Connor and said, 'Your fiancée is scary.'

Dick expected another glare from the Superboy, but he was gladly surprised when the dark-haired boy nodded in agreement, face slightly pale. 'You got that right.' He then shook himself out of his frozen state of fear to help his fiancée dish out their meal.

'Give him time,' Kaldur said quietly to Dick. 'You know how Connor can be with expressing his emotions.'

'Well, he's not as emotionally constipated as he once was, I'll give him that,' Dick said. 'Unfortunately, I don't think I have time.'

'What do you mean?' Kaldur asked.

Dick went to explain but quickly decided against it. Kaldur was in the Justice League now. Dick couldn't really explain what he was planning to do. Not yet, anyway.

'Forget I said anything,' Dick said instead, flashing his charming smile and wrapping an arm around his old friend's shoulders. 'For now, why don't you tell me everything I've missed. How is it being Atlantis' new champion, first starters...'

For the next hour, it was like old times. The four of them ate and laughed and swapped stories about what Dick had missed in the last two years. They recalled some of the good times they all shared when they were on the team, and Dick convinced himself for a brief moment that they could all stay like this. Happy, carefree, young.

But Dick had come to Connor and M'gann for a reason.

Once they'd had enough of dessert, Connor offered to wash up and Dick saw his chance.

'I'll help wipe up,' Dick offered, taking his and Kaldur's plates to the sink while Connor filled the sink with soap and water. Dick waited until M'gann and Kaldur were in deep conversation over on the couch that Dick decided to broach his intended subject. 'So, how is the team going?'

'The team is doing okay,' Connor answered flatly, never lifting his eyes from his work with the plates in the sink. 'I just try to help M'gann as best as I can. We're down a few numbers since your old man decided to take half of the Justice League and our team with him in his little stunt.'

Dick winced. He recalled getting the call from Tim about it about five months ago. It had been an orchestrated walk out from over half the Justice League and their protégés, all of them wanting to go back to their vigilante ways as the League and the team had become somewhat irrelevant. Those that remained never saw it coming.

'I'm sorry about that,' he apologised, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Just felt appropriate.

Connor looked at him briefly, hands pausing in the sink as he did, and then released a sigh of defeat. 'Don't be sorry, Dick. It's not like you had anything to do with it.'

'No,' Dick agreed, 'but I should've been there at least. I should've reached out to see if you were okay. We started this team together, I shouldn't have just left it all to you.'

'Well, I know the rest of the team would really appreciate it if you came back now,' Connor said, his tone hopeful. 'That is, if you're ready to come back.'

Dick's heart lurched at the thought of going back to the team, both with want and terror. He liked Barbara, he really did. But, if he were being honest, he'd missed being a part of something bigger than himself and his own agendas.

'Connor,' Dick started softly, looking to see M'gann and Kaldur still locked in deep conversation before continuing, 'I would love to come back. Please know that. But you should know I haven't just been idly moving about the place the last two years. I've been conducting undercover missions of my own with Barbara in relation to the meta-human trafficking crisis.'

Connor's eyes widened and Dick saw he was about to raise his voice so leaned in close and hurriedly whispered, 'Keep your voice down, please.'

Connor took a second to register what Dick had said before whispering harshly, 'What do you mean you've been working on your own? You should've come to us if you were getting involved.'

'First of all, I just said I had Barbara helping me, and secondly because the team and the Justice League are full of public figures now. The missions wouldn't work if they got involved. But I've actually come here to ask you for your help on a mission, Connor.'

'Me?! Why would I-'

'Let me explain. First of all, it'll be you, me, Artemis-'

'You've pulled Artemis into this too?! Where the hell has she been, anyway?'

'Would you stop interrupting me for one second?' Dick hissed, wiping up a plate or two before returning to the conversation. 'As I was saying, from our intel, Markovia's Princess Tara has been found dead. Killed by a meta human supposedly, and I have a sneaky suspicion someone has been testing on people with the meta gene, turning them into extreme versions of their meta abilities. I need your help to find out who. As I said before, I've convinced Artemis to help already, and I was looking to you, Jefferson, and Y/N to make up the rest of the team.'

Dick looked around the room, looking at how empty the couches were around M'gann and Kaldur and sudden thought struck him. 'Speaking of which, where is Y/N?' he asked. 'I would've thought she'd be here celebrating the good news.'

He'd forgotten to keep quiet that time, and so Kaldur and M'gann looked at him alongside Connor, all looking as if Dick had sprouted three heads.

'What?' Dick asked, patting around his face. 'Do I have sauce on my face?'

'You don't know?' M'gann asked, sounding almost on the brink of tears.

That's when Dick realised something was majorly wrong, and his gut twisted with fear. 'Know what? Where's Y/N?'

'Y/N, she...' Kaldur started, then took a deep breath before continuing, 'Y/N left the team, Dick.'

'What?' Dick said, almost dropping the plate he held. 'What do you mean she left?'

'She left about six months ago,' Connor answered, washing up the last plate and emptying the sink. 'Before everyone else left. She felt like she wasn't doing enough with us anymore, so she just... left.'

'I've sent her plenty of messages,' M'gann said, 'but she hasn't answered any of them. And I can't sense her at all in the country. Even the Watchtower couldn't find her.'

Dick couldn't believe this. Y/N was gone? 'So Wonder Woman doesn't even know where she is?'

'Wonder Woman has been busy running the Justice League since Batman resigned,' Kaldur answered. 'Even if she did know where her daughter was, I don't think she'd like us to know, and I would have to agree.'

'Why?' Dick asked, suddenly very angry at Kaldur for not being as concerned as he was about Y/N. 'Do you know where she is?'

Kaldur shook his head. 'Regrettably, no. But when we last spoke, she sounded like she didn't want to be found. That she would come back to us when she was ready. I think we should respect that.'

Dick shook his head in disbelief. 'No, that's not like Y/N. She wouldn't just leave anywhere without telling anyone.'

'What, you mean like you?' Connor asked, and that cold stare was back.

'I mean she is loyal and empathetic. Surely she would know how her absence would affect the team,' Dick continued, ignoring the personal dig.

'She was loyal, Dick,' Connor countered. 'She was loyal, and stuck around with M'gann, Kaldur and I until the team got back on its feet. She held the team together when we were on the brink of falling apart. But you wouldn't know that because you weren't here.'

Dick wanted to argue but found that he couldn't. What he had thought was the best for the team turned out to be the complete opposite. He could sense it now; his relationships with his oldest friends were no longer as they were.

'You were gone for two years,' Connor continued. 'You'd be surprised as to how much a person can change in that time.'

The day Dick left flashed in his mind, and he recalled the pain in Y/N's eyes when he left her behind. He remembered how she'd held it together, but he knew she would probably cry about it later because she'd done it some many times before, always going to him to cry on his shoulder.

But he wasn't there that time. He'd left her all alone to dry her tears.

You're my best friend. Always have been. Always will be...

Dick looked to his friends again, but they could barely meet his eyes. Kaldur was disappointed, Connor was angry, and M'gann was just sad. An apology bubbled up in Dick's throat, but he didn't think it was sufficient enough for what he had done to them.

'I have to find her, then,' Dick said into the quiet room, and finally they all looked to him.

'Did you not just hear Kaldur?' Connor asked. 'We should leave her alone like she wants.'

'We don't necessarily know that,' Dick countered. 'Besides, this isn't about bringing her back. This is about me making things right with her.'

'But what if Kaldur is right?' M'gann argued. 'What if she doesn't want to be found. Maybe the right thing to do is leave her alone?'

Dick shook his head. 'She's my best friend, M'gann. I can't accept that she wouldn't want to see us ever again.'

'Maybe she doesn't want to see you, have you considered that?' Kaldur asked, his voice taking on a protective demeanour. 'The bottom line is, Dick, that you left her behind without a second thought. And she respected that, even if it killed her inside knowing that you would rather abandon her - abandon us - than face the pain of losing Wally together. She missed you every single day, and yet she still fought and trained and guided the team without faltering. And now, when she finally finds the courage to do what's best for her for once, you want to shame her for it?'

Anger surged through Dick, fiery and hot. 'I am not shaming her for anything. Do you not think I didn't think of you all every single day?'

'If you did, you didn't do anything about it, did you?' Connor mumbled, but Dick heard him just fine.

'Look, if you guys don't want to help me find her, fine,' Dick said, looking at all three friends pointedly. 'But I will find her. Because she needs to know that she was right. That I was wrong to leave and I am a terrible best friend.'

His expression softened as he looked down at his hands, imagining how long ago him and Y/N would link their pinkies. How simple friendships were back then.

'If she never comes back,' he continued, quieter this time, 'then I won't blame her. But best friends don't give up on each other.'

It was quiet for what felt like an eternity. Until Kaldur walked up to Dick and grabbed his shoulder comfortingly.

'You may be a terrible best friend,' Kaldur said, a small smile warming his face. 'But that doesn't mean your heart isn't in the right place.'

'Thanks, Kaldur,' Dick said, patting Kaldur's hand upon his shoulder.

Kaldur dropped his hand and the four of them sat down on the couches. 'Y/N didn't tell me where she was going,' Kaldur started, 'just that she needed to find out who she was again.'

'I don't follow,' Dick said.

Kaldur chuckled. 'Don't worry, I said the same thing to her when she told me. But she also said something along the lines of, "I need to find out where I've come from to find out where I will go.".'

'What the hell does that mean?' Connor asked.

'Again, not sure. But when I asked her the same question, she said she had to go back to her roots,' Kaldur elaborated. 'Something to do with where it all started. And her mother...'

Dick contemplated all of Kaldur's recollections, juggling each statement over one another to try and make sense. It was so vague, but Dick could sense there was a blatant truth staring right at them if they just looked hard enough.

Where it all began... Where she's been... Her mother...

The answer hit Dick like a brick wall.

'Themyscira,' he said softly, then more confidently. 'She's gone to Themyscira.'

'The Island of the Amazons?' M'gann asked. 'Are you sure?'

Dick nodded. 'It has to be. That's where Wonder Woman is from, and Y/N mentioned all the time when we were kids how much she wanted to go visit it one day.'

'But isn't it hidden?' Connor interjected. 'I mean, that's why they haven't gone back right? Anyone who leaves the island can never find it again.'

'Wonder Woman must've had something to help her remember,' Kaldur offered. 'Or at least guide her back home. I would suggest we go ask her, but again, I doubt she would tell us anything.'

It was like nothing had changed. The four of them had slipped back into theorising and planning and bantering as if no time had passed, as if no one had left or been promoted. It warmed Dick's heart at the thought that they all wanted to help find Y/N, even bring her home.

But Dick shook his head in dismissal. 'You guys don't have to worry yourselves over this. It sounds like I'm part of the reason she left in the first place, so it's my responsibility to find her and make this right on my own.'

'While I agree that this is partially your fault,' Connor said, earning a slight slap from M'gann beside him that he barely flinched at, 'Y/N's our friend too. The least we can do is help you find her.'

Dick smiled gratefully at his friend, who gave him a nod in return which was a start. 'Okay then...' Dick brought his watch up in front of his chest, clicked a few buttons before bringing up a large holographic screen with Barbara on it. 'Can you see us, Babs?'

'In quality HD, as well,' Barbara replied with a witty smile. 'Now, what can Oracle do for you?'

'We're trying to find Themyscira,' Dick explained. 'But it's not on any maps that we know of. Anything in any history records? Sailor sightings while out at sea?'

'You're asking me to find a mythical island from greek mythology that is meant to be hidden from Man's World and is forgotten by any who leave it?' Barbara asked incredulously, but then began typing ferociously on her end. 'Yeah, sure. No problem.'

Dick and the others waited in silence as Barbara worked her magic, files and maps and illustrations of the island popping up all over the screen around her face. After a minute or two, she spoke again.

'Okay,' she began, 'according to maps, you're right, the place doesn't exist. Even old sailors from Ancient Greece don't have any records of the place. However, I did find some similar tales being published in short stories of greek mythology and sailing journals. And all of them mention a couple of times sailing near what has now become the mouth of the modern Terme River in what we now know as Turkey, and having a strange sensation wash over them about danger. Each and every one of them have been convinced there is danger ahead and have turned away.'

'But they're just stories,' Kaldur argued. 'How can you be sure that what they speak of is the Island of the Amazons?'

'Ease up, Aquaman. I'm getting there.' A few more clicks and taps and Barbara brought up a picture of a very odd looking fish. 'Do you recognise that at all?'

Kaldur stared at the fish for a moment, contemplating its odd structure. 'I don't recognise it as a species,' Kaldur said. 'But I do recognise parts of it. It is like... different fish species have been spliced up and put back together to form this.'

'Exactly,' Barbara said, tap and clicking fervently again. 'This is a fish that has been found not near Turkey but close enough, and on multiple occasions. Now, if we isolate all these fish types... and then map out where each species usually resides... then find the crossover point for all of them...'

Dick watched diligently as Barbara isolated the fishes, highlight on the world map which species resided where, then drew lines horizontally and vertically, then zoomed in on the section the two lines crossed over.

'And there you have it,' Barbara offered proudly. 'The mouth to the Terme River in Turkey. You're welcome.'

'That makes sense,' M'gann said, looking up at the map, intrigued. 'If Themyscira is supposedly this pocket of space no human can find, then it makes sense that sea creatures of different genetic combinations would be able to breed there in peace, more than likely living there except for the stray pod or two that wander off into the open ocean.'

'I would have to agree,' Kaldur said, fascinated by it all as well. 'Who knows how many sea creatures live in harmony there.'

'Well, I'll be sure to find out when I get there,' Dick said as he stood up. 'Thanks Babs.'

'Any time,' she said, then the call ended.

'Wait, you're leaving now?' M'gann asked as Dick made his way to the front door.

'This cannot wait, M'gann,' Dick insisted, opening the front door. 'I have to speak with her as soon as possible.'

'Hey.' Dick was forced to stop when Connor grabbed him by his bicep, bringing the two of them close enough Dick could feel Connor's breath on his cheek.

'Are you really doing this for Y/N's sake, or for yours?' Connor asked in a hushed voice. 'Because whatever mission you think you need her for, I can assure you it cannot be more important than your friendship. Do you understand?'

Dick didn't quite understood what he meant, but he nodded anyways, and Connor let him go.

M'gann and Kaldur stepped up beside Connor as Dick made his way down the apartment stairs and back to the car. M'gann wrapped her arms around Connor's waist as he embraced her with one arm over her shoulder.

'Good luck, old friend,' Kaldur called out. 'May your journey be safe and successful.'

Dick chuckled as he waved farewell. 'I know you've always been well-spoken, but is it now a job requirement as Aquaman to sound like Gandalf?'

Kaldur pulled a face that Dick and M'gann laughed at, and Connor cracked a smile at the slight burn. Before he could psyche himself out of it, Dick hopped in the car and took off towards Wayne Manor.

'Call Alfred Pennyworth,' Dick spoke loud and clear, and the car immediately began ringing.

After a few rings, Alfred promptly answered the phone. 'Master Dick, what a pleasant surprise.'

'Hey, Alfred. Is the Batwing free at the moment?'

'I've just given it a deep clean now. Why?'

'Excellent. Could you please prepare it for take off by the time I reach the Manor? I have a little excursion I have to go on.'

'Will that excursion bring the Batwing back in one piece, Master Dick?'

'...I'll be there in twenty.'

Dick promptly ended the call, not waiting to hear a scolding from Alfred. Those were never fun.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure what to expect when he went to Themyscira. But Steve Trevor did it once, surely it could be done again.

Either way, it was a risk Dick was willing to take to get his best friend back.

---------------

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mediocre-quill-ink · 1 year

Text

Dirty cop

Summary: You're a deviant, and conner gets aggressive interrogating you. You shouldn't be turned on by this, but you are. He's so intimidating. Sexual tension rises once he realizes you're aroused by this. As a final interrogation tactic, he gets you two somewhere more... private.

Content: aggressive conner, small spaces, choking (kind of), degrading kink, mentions of murder, reader explains their crimes while getting fucked, I'm bad at pacing so just read slowly

Holy fuck

I'm in a lot of trouble

I stand uncomfortably in the room I was instructed to wait in. I could run. I should run but I don't want to risk it, guards and guns everywhere. I don't want to risk that yet.

Suddenly the door clicked open. "Thank you, officer " I heard a husky voice say before entering. Another android, it looked like he worked for the police, strange. He was fairly tall, six feet even, brown clean cut hair, nice jaw, freckles peppered across the face, doe brown eyes. He seemed to be fairly kind looking on exception for his expression. Stiff and neutral, not the most welcoming.

"Android number 618 725 210-43 you are under investigation for the murder of Daniel Lane." I swallowed hard. I knew what I did was wrong, but something inside of me snapped. I was doing my regular deliveries when I saw that man mug a poor woman. I just couldn't let him do that. I didn't mean to kill him. It was an accident.

He slowly walked in front of me, he was uncomfortably close, I could practically feel him breathing on me. His stare was burning into my face. "Do you have no mercy, Deviant? Do you not realize what you've done?"

Holy shit.

He's really leaning into me now. God, he's close. I can't help but feel a blush on my cheeks. "What? Not gonna say anything? Hm? " Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm. Don't say anything. Maybe he'll think im not a Deviant.

He doesn't back away. Not even blinking. He's just burning a hole into me. "Say something. I know what you are. I know what you did." His voice rumbled into my ear, he was sturn and terrifying. Suddenly I felt hot. My ears were burning.

No way. I can't. I can't get aroused by this. I can't. not right now... oh my God, this is hot.

Suddenly, I was pushed against the wall. The force in his strength was no laughing matter, I was I'm deep shit. But God, somehow, it made me more aroused.

Hurt me

"Do you know what they'll do to you when you're convicted? They'll tear you apart! You're begging to be torn apart, aren't you?" I tried to control my breath, tried to calm down, but it wasn't working. My nerves were high and won't go down. Fear was muddied with lust, leaving me helpless.

Helpless

He slammed me against the wall again, this time holding me by the throat. We both knew we didn't breathe. Not really. Sure, androids have faux lungs, but really, it's just to give the illusion of breath to humans, make them look more life like. Not that he cared. It was the intimidation tactic that he wanted. The fact was I could barely move with him holding me like this. I tried to struggle around his grasp but it only made him grip harder. My heart rate escolated. "Arn't you??" He repeated, more aggressive, yelling now. My knees buckled. Holy shit no I shouldn't be aroused by this.

He leaned closer, his breath was rough against my faux skin. His eyes dug into mine for a moment, and they shifted. Analyzing. Then his brows twitched. And realization sunk in. His expression was something in-between smug and disgust. "You're aroused by this Arn't you?" He questioned, his voice the same mood as his face.

My heart dropped when he said it. He was so loud too, surely anyone in the next two rooms could hear it. Shame, fear, lust all bubbled up inside me. Everything he did further drove my lust, and it was making me crazy.

He had no response to my silence. It seemed he was still processing. Assessing his next move.

Shit.

After a moment, he squinted at me. Then, I grabbed a fist full of my shirt by the collar, dragging me with him. He pushed open the door of the interrogation office and dragged me with him.

"Connor, where the fuck are you going?" A call from an older man immigrated from behind us. "They clearly don't want to talk with an audience. I'll try to see what I can get out of them when we're alone." He stated flatly.

Before I knew it I was thrown past a whirl wind of doors and next thing I know I'm somewhere isolated. A cramped and dim room. My breath was heavy and out of control, my heart thumping against my plastic shell. What is happening??

"Clearly, traditional intimidation doesn't work on you." He droned, creeping closer to me.

Oh my God. Is this happening?

"So let's see what will get you to speak." He pulled his tie loose, draping around his shoulders. His slow movement never faltered from getting closer to me. I was instinctively backing away, but I wanted this. I knew whatever this was, it was going to get me in trouble, but I may as well die like a champ.

His jacket and shirt were un buttoned. He didn't bother to take them off. It seemed he knew the conservation was a tease, further causing me yern for him. My butt hit something hard. I quickly turned my head to see it was a countertop of sorts. It was cool against my fingertips. Just as my gaze focused in front of me again, he was pressed against me. The fabric of his clothes rubbing against mine. His hips rolling roughly against my core. I pressed my lips together, suppressing a moan. Holy shit this was really happening!

One of his hands gripped my neck again, pressing my head against the cold wall behind me. His eyes stared unbreakingly into mine as he continued to grind. I could feel myself getting hot, my heart beat growing quicker. Fuck. Whatever he was doing was working, and it made it hard to focus.

The pressure suddenly alleviated from my Groin when I suddenly heard a zip and the sound of more fabric shifting. Suddenly, his hands were on my pants, he roughly unzipped them and pulled them down. "Is this what you wanted?" his tone was more impatient than lustful, not to say lust wasn't there. "Answer me." He firmly stated. I let out a wine, trying to press myself against him, but he swiftly gripped my hips to render further movement, causing me to let out a more desperate wine. "Y-yes." I whispered desperately. "Then tell me what happened."

I tried to push myself against him, but it was no use. He was too strong. "I-i was delivering. I was assigned an address to drop off a pizza." His stare continued, urging me to continue. "I... I was on route until I heard screaming. I... I looked around, trying to assess any danger when I saw a man mugging someone. A woman. She was crying. " I looked desperately at him. Give me something. Please. He didn't budge. "T-then something inside of me changed. I knew I had to help her. I couldn't just let it happen."

Suddenly, something pushed inside of me, causing me to gasp. His hips slowly pressed against mine, streching me out. He was big. Dear Lord, he was big. It was overwhelming, and I was beginning to lose track.

"Good. Now tell me what happened." He rumbled. I began to clinch around him, trying to adjust. The led on the side of his head began to wildly flash yellow, his jaw clinching, eyes fluttering for a moment. Only a moment. But I caught my attention. "Something in me b-broke. I broke from my programming, I guess. Next thing I know, I dropped the pizza box, and I'm sprinting at the man." I swallowed hard, trying to keep my thoughts in one place. "I had to protect her. I attacked him." Keep cool. Keep cool.

"How exactly did you attack him?" His hips teasingly rolling against my core before stopping. I couldn't help but let out a soft moan. His led flased yellow for a split second. "I... I started by throwing him off balance... then I threw a punch. He fell back but managed to catch himself, and he sprinted at me... He was able to get a few good hits in."

A movement began to happen between my thighs. His dick was slowly pumping inside of me. Not by the movement of his hips, no, not like a person. It was robotic. It was the base of his shaft. "Keep going." He demanded firmly. I gripped the countertop, suppressing whimpers as I tried to keep my train of thought, but it was getting harder and harder to keep grasp on it. "I-i ended up using... his weapon as my own. Not to kill him. I just needed to... to weaken him." A whimper slipped from my lips but I continued "eventually I tried to shove him away again, much harder than before. I tried to tell the lady to run but she seemed to badly injured to do so. Next think I know he... he's dead. He must have hit his head. I didn't mean to kill him swear. I- I swear I just wanted to help someone."

Conner trusted much faster now. As well as taking his hand that was on my hips and using it to press against my clit. His fingers began to vibrate. I couldn't contain my moans anymore. It's mutch. "Then you fled with the woman to the hospital and hid. Why did you hide?" He grew aggressive again. His hand tightened around my throat. "I felt guilty. I panicked. I had to mutch to explain to the nurses. No matter what I said, I felt I couldn't do it right. I ran because I was scared."

Fuck his whole body waight was pressed against mine. I melted into him. He could do whatever he wanted with me at that moment, and I would have been fine with it. I just had a need for him. I was desperate. "See what happens when you cooperate well?" He teased half coldly. Leaning in to place a sloppy kiss on my shoulder, and that was my breaking point. Everything in my system ran into overdrive as I reached a climax. Visual systems flashing in and out of function He seemed to let out a few pants and moans, too, which let me plumet deeper into pleasure. He began to rhutt against me desperately, his whining growing more frequent. My heavy lids slid open, trying to observe him. His led flash changing from yellow to red temporarily before going back to yellow.

I don't know how much time had passed. But it seemed he was collecting himself. It took a few minutes for his led to return to blue. For my systems to return to normal. But once we were all collected, he quickly redressed himself, combing out his hair. I tried to as well. I wasn't sure what else to do. "That's what it took for you to tell the truth?" He finally stated, coldly. My heart dropped. I wasn't sure what I expected but I wasn't that.

I didn't even know how to respond. I softly shook my head "I suppose so." I whispers back, defeated. "Is that what it took for you to complete the mission?" I quipped back. I felt awkward as hell, but it was the first thing that came to mind. He stiffened for a moment, clinched his jaw and then continued to fix his tie "it seems we're both desperate party's."

There was a heavy awkwardness in the air before he finally grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the room, walking me back to the interrogation room. "It seems you enjoyed it too." I offered. Not sure why, but I couldn't stop thinking it. He stopped suddenly, looking at me. "I enjoyed nothing. I simply did what I needed to complete my assignment." "We both know that is a lie. I heard the sounds you made. I saw your led." Something in his expression shifted for a moment, calculating. "What matters is that you confessed. We're done here." He demanded sternly. I need to get out of here. Before they destroy me. "Connor." I squeezed out. "What?" He asked, irritated. "How many miles from here to the movie theater?" It was a dumb question, I know but that's what I needed. I needed to throw him off. Plus, the theater was close to the busses. If I can get on the busses, I can escape this. "What?" His stern and flat expression quickly became confused. I repeated the question "one and a half miles -" I ripped my wrist from his hand and ran.

To be honest I knew he can catch me. He's more agile than I am but I had a shot and that's what mattered. I sprinted down the hall twords the glass doors, throwing them open. And darting into the snow "HANK" I heard conner call behind me. Fuck.

I must have blacked out, but somehow, I made it to the bus on time. Just barely avoiding them.

--------------------

Hank and connor stood in the snow. "Shit!" Hank cried, kicking a pile of snow. "I'm sorry Hank, I wasn't fast enough. " Hank took a moment to catch his breath, looking around agrivatedly and finally turned to conner "what the fuck were you doing mingling with the Deviant?" "What?" "Don't play dumb, Connor, Jesus christ!"

Pt.2

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leelany-world · 1 month

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Connor 3D model by DazCover on RenderHub

Connor needed a moment alone after Markus had called for revolution.

The impact of becoming a deviant hit him and he was overcome with emotion.

Markus had forgiven him for what he had done, but did he deserve it? So many androids had died because of him. CyberLife had used him, he should have known that. If not him, as the most advanced android, then who?

But right now, even the most advanced android was too focused on his overwhelming emotions and didn't pay attention to his surroundings.

A very big thank you to @yvy-900 and @zeppersart for sharing and porting the outfit 💙 !

#something serious after the other render today 😊#wanted to try out the new beanie boy outfit and was told to do some angst #dbh #dbh connor #detroit become human #daz 3d studio #3drender #3d art #leelany renders

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autiacorart · 4 months

Text

all we are is skin and bone trained to get along

#rk1k #dbh #detroit become human #dbh connor #dbh markus #i am not able to draw anything more than just some sketchy thing idk and i'm in a mood for angst thank you #it's inspired by tom ford's a single man

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drysaladandketchup · 2 months

Note

for the "things you said" writing meme -- matthew/leon, 12 :)

Thank you for the request <3 I realised very quickly I have no idea what constitutes a 'mini' fic. I struggle to write 'mini' anything lol. Hopefully this still satisfies :)

12. things you said when you thought i was asleep

It takes all of Matthew's willpower not to reach over and smash his phone just to shut up the alarm. All that saves his wallet and an awkward trip to the Apple store is the split-second realisation that the shrieking in his ear isn't his usual alarm.

It's a ringtone. Not his own, either.

He pries his eyes open to find the world through the window is still dark. One of the balcony doors is still ajar, letting in a cool night breeze. He's lying on his side in his own bed, the end of the all-star weekend memorialized by several aches and bruises.

His hips and ass are a little sore too, but that's unrelated. Technically.

The ringing stops. Someone huffs behind him.

Someone. Yeah, no, Matthew knows who it is. They may have met up at the bar once the media was done swarming, but Matthew was far from drunk. Painfully sober, in fact. If he's being honest with himself, he was hoping things would turn out this way.

One more time. One more moment. Because it's been a long time since they were them. Longer still since the sex was just sex, since hate became want. Matthew is strong in a lot of ways, but not against this.

"Davo." Leon's voice is low, and still gruff from sleep when he answers his phone. He sits up on his side of the bed, trying not to disturb Matthew, pulling the covers back up over Matthew's shoulder like he thinks he'll freeze to death in this balmy Florida winter.

Usually Matthew's a heavy sleeper. But never when Leon's around. He makes it impossible for Matthew to completely relax, to let time slip by. Leon's just too big of a presence, almost too much to bear. It was more important that everything linger, to bask in the strange comfort of their relationship, whatever it was. They had so little time. Even less, now.

"I know it's late. No, no, I'm not at the hotel. I'm... I'm with Tkachuk."

Leon says his last name like it's wrong, like it's rotting on his tongue.

When he corrects himself, says, "Matthew", it's better, lighter. Like it's ambrosia.

Matthew remembers when Leon Draisaitl saying his name wouldn't have meant a damn thing to him. When that simple act didn't fill him with fondness.

In the silence, Matthew can hear McDavid talking on the other end, but can't quite make out what he's saying. Matthew tucks up under the duvet, breathing quiet and even, trying to focus instead on the distant sound of waves and the ticking clock on his wall.

Ticking. Always ticking. Time bleeds out when they're together.

He doesn't even remember falling asleep last night, but he wishes he hadn't now. He wishes he'd stayed awake longer, just to... just too see him. To look Leon in the eye, to talk about everything and nothing until dawn, to feel big, too-warm hands on his body more and more and more. He wants to make sure he'll remember how Leon feels, sounds, tastes.

"Connor," Leon says, a warning, followed by a sigh. "I know. I know, okay? It was stupid, but..."

Maybe it was. Matthew has a good thing here in Florida. Better than ever. He was happy to leave Alberta behind and start over. So why did leaving make him feel like a coward?

Because leaving was about Calgary, and the Flames. About his career and his future. It wasn't about Leon. Leon was the wrench in the gears; the one thing he didn't expect to have to say goodbye to, the kind of hurt he never could have accounted for.

"I needed to see him." Leon sounds helpless. He's not the only one.

The only time he's heard Leon so lost was after his team was knocked out of the playoffs last season. The Oilers meant nothing--Matthew was pretty fucking glad considering they'd beat out the Flames--but he never wanted to hear Leon like that again.

He definitely never wanted to be the cause of it. Not like this.

Leon is still mumbling into his phone. "Yeah, I'm fine. He's... we're good. He's happy."

A hand settles on Matthew's head. Fingers play with his curls, nails scratch his scalp. A thumb presses just behind Matthew's ear, stroking the soft skin where only hours before Leon had put his lips, whispering sweetness and filth in equal measure.

It takes everything for Matthew not to groan, to whimper and surrender, roll over and climb on top of Leon and take all over again. Beg him to take something--everything--from Matthew.

"I don't know," Leon says then.

It's easy to guess what McDavid asked.

He's happy. But are you?

"I can't even tell him I still love him."

Still. Matthew didn't even know there was a before, let alone a still. Leon never said anything. Fuck, if Matthew wasn't busy trying to remember how to breathe, he'd roll over and punch him.

Then again, what did Matthew ever say? They never talked about it. Never let those closet hook-ups and slipping out back doors and little drinks and dinners and overnights excused as practical necessity be anything more than that. A bunch of chirps and half-truths and aborted discussions because it was all becoming too much. There was too much uncertainty. Too many ways it could go wrong.

It did go wrong. It became something. It became real.

Maybe that would have changed something. Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything at all. It doesn't matter now. Matthew left, and neither of them said a word about things like love, because it was easier to hope it would shrivel and die with distance and time.

"I know I'm being stupid." Leon pauses when McDavid interrupts, then huffs. "No, I am. Fuck, I really thought I'd get over it. Maybe I will. Eventually."

Don't you fucking dare, you piece of shit, Matthew wants to scream.

"Not sure I can, though." Leon swallows so loud Matthew can hear it. Then quieter, like he's not sure he's even allowed to admit it, he says, "I don't really want to."

He's still playing with Matthew's hair, occasionally dragging a finger over his bare shoulder or down his back, tracing imaginary lines across Matthew's flesh. Like he's something to be memorized and cherished.

They're both so fucking stupid. Matthew bites his lip and tries not to choke on the lump in his throat. Could be his heart, climbing right up and out of his mouth. He clings to the sheets with shaking hands.

"I'm not going to fuck up what he's got here," Leon says tiredly, voice thick with tension and pathetic resignation.

Leon's not here to drag him back. He wouldn't do that. So why is he here? Just to torture them both? Being with him doesn't feel like torture. It feels like winning. It feels like defiance and decadence and too much and not enough. It feels like what could have been and what could still be.

He didn't find Leon at that bar and bring him home out of pity, or nostalgia, one last fuck for old times sake. It was... it just was. Not an ending. Not some final goodbye. Proof maybe there could still be something. Getting over it was never an option, Matthew knew that well before he stepped onto the ice as a Panther and found himself staring Leon down all over again.

Matthew's vision is blurring. His eyes sting, warm and wet. There's blood pounding in his ears, and a hand clutching his heart, a vice around his lungs. He hardly remembers how to breathe.

He doesn't catch the rest of Leon's conversation, except something about meeting Connor back at the hotel tomorrow. Meaning he's staying the night, at least. He's staying.

When Leon hangs up the phone, Matthew finally comes up for air. He relaxes his shoulders, listening to the soft thump as Leon taps his phone against his forehead over and over. Then it clatters on the side table. Leon sighs, sniffs, and sinks back under the covers. He tucks right up against Matthew's back, still burning like a furnace, soft muscle and skin brushing Matthew's spine in all the right ways.

He throws an arm around Matthew and finds one of his hands, worming his fingers through the gaps to hold it. His palm is sweaty, not that it matters at all to Matthew. He can't help squeezing Leon's hand a little, but if Leon notices, he doesn't say a word.

Not until he's wrapped tight around Matthew, near suffocating, like any part of them that isn't touching is a sin.

"Love you," Leon mumbles, barely more than a whisper, pressing his lips right to the base of Matthew's neck. Matthew's body can't seem to decide whether to shiver or melt under the heat.

Leon says it like it's inevitable. Painful. Pitiful.

What he's saying is, I'm sorry I love you. I'm sorry I couldn't say it before. I'm sorry I don't know how to say it now. I'm sorry it's too late, it's the wrong place, the wrong time.

Like he doesn't think Matthew could ever understand. And that's the worst part of it all. They're still not on the same page. Tearing down what they never built.

If Leon's only brave enough to say it when Matthew's asleep, then Matthew will just have to be brave enough to say it in the light of day. He doesn't run, and he won't now that he knows he doesn't have to.

He stares into the night outside his window, listening to Leon breathe, feeling his heart beat through Matthew's chest like that's where it longs to be.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow maybe they can stop chasing time long enough to make the most of what they have. To make up for what they've wasted. And whatever happens after, well, maybe they can stop being afraid of that, too.

#hockey #mattdrai #matthew tkachuk #leon draisaitl #my writing #asks #i can take any prompt and shove angst into it just watch me #'mutual pining dumbasses who can't communicate' my beloved trope #i hope it's obvious this is happening during/right after the 2023 asg #i know 2020 was the sacred texts but I feel like we don't use 2023 for mattdrai purposes enough #poor connor always suffering through mattdrai bullshit #leon has a scrapbook full of pictures of matthew and will be like 'remember when my bf left me ;_;' and connor wants to jump off a bridge #'mini' fic they said. i don't think 1.6k is mini. it got away from me. but i have never been concise in my life why start now

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rk8connorzz · 2 years

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𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔰 // 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔯 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: connor has been having very bad nightmares due to the trauma of his past 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: depicted gore, brief mention of suicide The moonlight was comfortably set over Detroit, and almost everyone was sound asleep in their homes. Just distant sounds of traffic and people talking from outside could distract me from lying with Connor. A brisk gust of air blows into the room, dragging the cool temperature down slightly. Connor’s synthetic skin warmed where I touched him and where I didn’t, making the cool temperature of the room bearable.

The night went as most do. Connor and I both fell asleep in the warm embrace of each other’s arms. We were both on our sides facing each other - his arm was around my waist and spooning my back while his other hand was underneath my body. My arm outstretched onto Connor’s lower torso.

Connor’s LED shone a brilliant shade of blue as he dozed off into sleep. He looked so elegant while idle. Just tracing my hand along his jaw while he sleeps, memorizing every freckle placed on his skin, looking at just how beautifully they designed him. ‘How did I find someone as perfect as him?’ I thought.

I almost fell asleep until I realized Connor twitching slightly, his LED switching from yellow to red, then back again. His breathing became more and more staggered, causing me to worry slightly more. He gripped onto the loose clothing on my back as if it was the last thing keeping him from falling to his untimely death. Sweat beaded down his brow to his chin. I rocked him back and forth with my hand, trying to wake him. ‘Connor? Hey, Hey! Baby, please get up!’ I whisper yelled to him, but to no avail.

Whatever nightmare he had, it wasn’t just a normal one for him. He’s had nightmares, but none seemed this.. detrimental. When my shaking on his whole body worked, he awoke with a sharp gasp and a violent flinch as if he was just hit. Now his LED was a deep crimson which never changed, even to yellow. I sat up and tried to help him calm down his hyperventilating. He was muttering to himself in between harsh sobs. ‘I didn’t..I’m sorry. I-It was-wasn’t me I...wasn’t- that wasn’t..me.’ I pulled him into my arms and circled my pointer finger onto his back. This seemed to calm his muttering and his bawling. ‘It’s alright, baby. You’re alright, you’re safe.’ He still didn’t loosen his tight grip onto my pajamas. After his sobs calmed down, he began to speak. ‘I-I didn’t mean to..I was for-forced to..I’m ju- I’m so..so sorry..’ His torso began to rack with violent shivers. ‘You don’t have to tell me what happened, sweetheart unless you want to. Just try to calm down, I’m here. You can tell me anything, I’ll be here for you.’ He regained his composure and begun explaining the dream. ‘I..When I was still a machine, I connected to a deviants memory while he killed himself. You were there if I remember correctly. And I felt..like I was dying along with him. I was...so scared. I felt fear for the first time but I just...just- denied it. I felt like if I did, I would be deactivated and shut off. I woul- would just be sent to..to the junkyard where- where all the f-faulty androids went. I..I was there..and I-I...I tried..to convince them not to send me there.. but they just did-didn’t listen to me. I-I don’t wanna die!’ I wanted to do anything in my power to help him move on from who he once was. He couldn’t do anything about it, he was forced to by Amanda. By Cyberlife. He still holds it against himself and it pains me to know how much pain he is in. I want him to be happy, and when he isn’t, I feel like I’m not happy along with him. ‘I understand you still think that it’s your fault, but it isn’t. You would’ve been deactivated and analyzed if you did show signs of deviancy. You felt like you needed to hide your emotions for the sake of the mission. For the sake of yourself. Amanda forced you to do things you weren’t alright with doing, and I’m so sorry, sweetie. I want to be able to kiss away your problems. You’ve brought hundreds of hopeless androids a light at the end of the tunnel, and you think that you’re still a bad person? Many people are very grateful for you, as they should be. You’ve done amazing things, and you deserve to know it. I love you, Connor. If you want to, we could just try to fall back asleep for if you don’t want to, we can find something to do. I’m not very tired, I’ve already taken a nap. I just wanna hold you, make you feel alright.’ His grip finally let go, his muscles unclenching themselves. ‘I..I love you so much, honey. I’m so sor-sorry if I worried you.. We can go back to bed, I’m sorry for waking you.’ I placed a kiss onto his head and pulled him up closer to my chest. ‘Alright, baby. Goodnight, sleep well.’ ‘Goodnight, (Name). I love you.’ I intertwined our hands together and rubbed his thumb with mine as I whispered, ‘I love you too, baby.’

#connor x reader #Connor Anderson #connor fluff #detroit become human #RK800 Connor #connor rk800 #rk800 #dbh connor #dbh x reader #dbh fanfic #dbhfanfic #fanfic #Connor Angst #dbh angst #dbh rk800 #dbh conner imagine #dbh imagine

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sjhhemmings · 4 months

Text

Dream Partner

Connor Rhodes x Fem!Reader

A/N: Connor is my bae now. I started watching med and i’m OBSESSED. God I love him. also sorry i’ve been like MIA? I just haven’t had the motivation to write :(

Lmk if you guys like this by REBLOGGING AND LIKING AND COMMENTING!!! Support your writers 🤞🏻🩵

warnings: alcohol, fluff, confessing feelings

“Y/N, truth or dare.” Ethan asks from across the table at Molly’s.

Most of you guys from the hospital decided drinks after shift would be fun, but now that they’re bringing in games, this isn’t going to end well for you.

Sucking in a deep breath you scrunch your nose in response, “Sorry, but I think it’s time for me to go home!” You say a little sarcastically because you don’t want to leave, but you don’t want to play the game.

“No, no, no, no, you’re not leaving me here with these maniacs.” Natalie said grabbing the back of your coat and sitting you back into your chair.

You glanced around the table of your colleagues and sighed. Whatever.

You and Ethan were sitting across from each other on the end of the table. Will sitting next to Ethan, and Natalie sitting next to you. Maggie sitting next to Will closest to the wall, then finally Connor sitting next to Natalie across from Maggie.

“Herrmann, get me another shot!” You yelled from across the bar earning a thumbs up and an eye roll before looking back at Ethan.

“You’re on. Dare.” You say confidently as Herrmann sets down another shot of tequila in front of you.

“I dare you to try and get as many phone numbers as you can from guys in this bar in under 2 minutes. Depending on how many you get is what determines your punishment.” Ethan says with a coy smile making your jaw drop.

“Woah, punishment?” You ask a little lost.

“Like if you get 5 or less, you take 3 shots, 6-15, only 2 shots, and then 16+ you can give me a dare twice as bad. With a punishment.”

“You’re so on.” You say taking your tequila shot and hopping off your stool.

“You timer starts…Now!” Ethan says starting your two minute timer.

As you walk away you pull your shirt down exposing a little more cleavage in hopes that would raise your chances as you make your way around the bar.

Exhausted and out of breath, 2 minutes later you make your way back to the table.

“Damn it.” Is all you say with a sigh as you sit down.

“How many did you get? 3?” Ethan asks with a smirk not confident in your abilities at all.

Exhaling deeply you roll your eyes and pull out the napkin you had every number on.

“Not quite…” You say looking disappointedly down at your results.

“Only…23 numbers.” You say looking up at Ethan’s dropped jaw. As the rest of the table hypes you up, you bask in the success.

“Now what did you say, I get to double the punishment?” You ask in a smart ass tone.

“Yep.”

“Hm, okay! Truth or dare Ethan? Choose wisely.” You say with a wink earning an eye roll.

“Truth.” He says sighing obviously still butt hurt.

“Is someone a chicken?” You ask pointedly making everyone else laugh.

“Nope. Just have fun coming up with someone that’s worth double the punishment for a truth.” He says taking a sip of his drink making you huff. If he wants to play it that way, then so be it.

“Have you ever filmed a sex tape?” You ask with the words rolling off your tongue. Ethan’s face turns bright red as the people at your table feel the awkward tension between you two.

“Remember, be truthful or you can choose to not answer for 4 shots.” You add while taking a sip of your own drink.

“No answer.” Is all Ethan says as he starts taking his shots as everyone else as the table dies from laughter.

After a few minutes of silence and miscellaneous conversations the table settles down. Making you forget about the game completely.

“Okay, okay, Y/N, truth or dare.” Natalie asks you to which you respond with an eye roll.

“Shouldn’t it be someone else’s turn?”

“Nah, you’re good at this game. You make it entertaining, pick one.” Natalie says making you chuckle.

“Truth. I don’t want to get up again.” You say giving her a pleading look.

“Describe your perfect dream partner. From head to toe, first thing that comes to your mind.”

“Do you want me to paint your nails next too? What is this a 12 year olds birthday party?” You ask laughing making her lightly hit your shoulder.

“I don’t even know where to start.” You whine making her give you a look of disbelief. You stare at your fingers that your fidgeting with as you start to think of your dream type.

“Okay, uh, Brown hair. Brunettes are alway cute.” You trail off not really knowing what to say next.

“Go on…” Natalie urges you making you rub your forehead from stress.

“I like green or blue eyes, wait just blue eyes. I like the deep ocean-y blue ones, not really icy. A stubble is always cute, or a little bit of facial hair. Oh and he needs to be tall, or taller than me at least.”

“Okay… give us some personality.” Will says with you rolling your eyes in response.

“God you people are needy!” You say faking annoyance. The alcohol has really helped in you not really caring with these things. “Confident but not cocky. Funny, able to take a joke and match energy. Communicates. Empathetic, and passionate. Pretty smile. Oh and respects me and my body or boundaries. ”

“Oh those are good,” Maggie adds making you blush a little.

“Hm. Give us some ideal careers.” Will adds making you think. Also a little suspicious. Why is he so interested.

“Surgeon.” You say without thinking.

“I need to be with someone who understands our job and is able to work with me on not having the most accommodative schedule. Or an NHL player so I can become his trophy wife.” You say with a smile toasting your beer with Natalie who mutters a ‘true that’.”

Before anyone really responds you a hear a soft chuckle from across the table. Will.

“What’s so funny?” You ask slightly glaring at him.

“You know, I was putting the puzzle pieces together, and you know who sounds like your Dream Partner Y/N?” He asks making you confused.

“Humor me, Will.” You say because you weren’t specifically thinking about anyone while describing your ideal type. It’s just your type that’s all.

“Mr. Connor Rhodes over here.” He says with a smirk making your face drop at the realization.

“Hm. Yeah, actually that makes a lot of sense.” Natalie says after thinking it over.

“Yeah the brown hair, stubble, blue ocean eyes, not the icy ones!” Ethan adds making you kick his shin under the table.

You can’t see Connor’s reaction to all of this but you know it’s probably not good. You wipe your hands down your face before you decide to get up, “I’m gonna go get another drink.” You say announcing your departure as you walk away.

Fuck what were you thinking. You and Connor? Dating? More than friends? Of course it crossed your mind, but for it to be a reality? Hell no. You can’t even imagine how much he doesn’t like you. He’s always second-guessing your choices as a doctor, and you’re never on the same page with anything.

It seems like he always has a problem with you, so now that you basically told him to his face he’s your dream type. That’s embarrassing.

Resting your head on the bar counter in front of you, you try your hardest not to cry from embarrassment right here right now.

Feeling a soft hand on your shoulder, you keep your face buried in your arms not willing to face Natalie or Will right now.

“Go away, Will.�� You mutter but instead of the person walking away, you feel their presence shift to sit in the seat next to you.

“It’s not Will.” You hear Connor say making your face blush even more. Fuck why did he have to come over here. He’s probably going to give you the talk that, ‘As flattering as it is that you have a secret crush on me, I’m gonna have to say we’re better as friends.’ No way, you’re not putting yourself through that tonight.

“Oh. Well you can go away too.” You mutter again.

“Can we talk?” He asks in a softer tone making you basically become the whole emotion on embarrassment. God why tonight?

“I’d rather not.” You say still not lifting your head up.

“That’s fine. I can talk…just, listen?”

Finally lifting your head up and looking Connor in the eye you sigh.

“I-”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in this awkward position where you feel obligated to come reassure me and gently let me down, saying ‘you’re flattered but we’re better as friends.’ Because I know, not that we’re really friends and I’m pretty sure you hate me but that’s besides the point. I understand. Now I’m going to excuse myself saying I’ll go to the bathroom, when i’m probably just going to walk out the door. Have a good night Connor.”

“Y/N wait!” He says grabbing your elbow to stop you from walking away.

“No, it’s okay,”

“No. Let me talk.” He pleads looking you in the eye. This sends butterflies to your stomach and also makes you overly aware of him touching your arm right now. Oh my god, Connor Rhodes is touching your arm right now. You could faint.

Sighing you sit back down next to him. Turning your chair so your knees are facing each other and you guys are sideways to the bar counter you run your hand through your hair as a nervously.

“I’m sorry that Will put you in that position, I’m sure you didn’t mean anything by it and that was kind of a dick move on his part, I’m also sorry I gave you the idea I don’t like you. Because I do, a lot. Thats partially the reason Will was pushing you to share so much. I always thought you never liked me, and they’ve been trying to convince me to ask you out. So now I guess, that’s what i’m doing? Y/N, would you want to-”

“Wow, Connor um…” You say interrupting him quietly, shocked from his confession.

“And now this is the part you try to let me down gently?” He asks chuckling a little but obviously hurt.

“No! No, i’m just surprised is all. We’ve just never really agreed on anything as doctors and I was convinced that you always had something against me…I never really thought of the idea of us together. I guess I never really allowed myself too. I mean, like, I would love to go out with you don’t get me wrong…But if this is just out of pity because I ran off embarrassed, again I hope you don’t feel obligated to-” You say rambling but he cuts you off.

“Y/N, that’s not what I’m doing. I want to do this. I like you, a lot.”

Another blush creeps onto your face as you make eye contact with Connor. Your heart is in your throat, not really knowing what to say you smile shyly.

“So will you please, go out with me?” He asks furrowing his brow in anticipation of your answer.

“Yes,” You say smiling a little awkwardly because you don’t know where to go from here.

“And now is the part where one of you invites each other to their house, and then you guys make beautiful drunken love, allllll night!” Will says coming in between you guys, holding each of your shoulders.

“Will, if you don’t get out of my sight in the next 5 seconds I’m going to punch you in the mouth.” You say with your eyes not leaving Connor’s as he sits back in his seat and snickers.

As you and Connor both get up to leave, Connor grabs your hand to guide you out behind him.

“Wanna come back to my place?” Connor asks once you both are outside.

“I’d like that.” You say grabbing his other hand holding them between you guys.

Before you would even be able to prepare let alone register what was going to happen, Connor leaned down and placed his lips on yours.

It was a soft but needy kiss that you only broke because you needed air. Only pulling away far enough to rest his forehead against yours you both chuckle.

“I like you too, Connor.” You whisper as he places his lips back on yours and smiles in between the kisses.

#connor rhodes one shot #connor rhodes x reader #one chicago #chicago med #connor rhodes fanfic #connor rhodes #y/n #one shot #fluffy #angst #cute ending #i love connor rhodes #will halstead #one chicago x reader #chicago med x reader #connor rhodes chicago med

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bowieandqueen11 · 1 year

Text

Resolved Issues / Roman Roy Imagine

Request: HIIIII gonna send my succession request while i still can lol.

how about roman and reader sharing childhood stories? him realising that perhaps, maybe the way his family has treated him is tiny bit Not Normal. the reader being somewhere between "oh my god let me give you a hug" and "i just might fight logan roy in the parking lot". yknow good old hurt/comfort you do it like no other

Thank you so much sweetie!! But also yes I feel this in my soul frick Logan Roy lmao

Warning: strong language. mentions of diarrhoea and mentions of child abuse/ physical abuse!

This 3k beast took quite a while to write, so feedback is appreciated! Thank you! :)

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

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Roman shrugs his shoulders and looks steadily at you, straight into your eyes.

‘The fuck- how should I know? Like... twenty three, ish?’

Roman’s perching on the edge of his own sofa, so obviously uncomfortable even in his own apartment. His wrist flicks as he answers, and a few drops of the whiskey he hasn’t touched comes sloshing round the side to stain his brand new eggshell blue decorative pillows. He had never cared much for property. But then again, he hadn’t cared much for whiskey either growing up; it had been his father’s drink of choice, and therefore his. The faint fire in the cold marble fireplace behind his head licks between his ears, and illuminates the confused amusement gleaming in his eyes.

You scoff, and shake your head at him incredulously. ‘You own twenty three houses, and you choose to live here?’ Awaiting an answer you know will be even more ridiculous, you make an effort to tuck your legs criss-cross under you, and sit with your knees resting just underneath Roman’s lower legs. ‘And yet you still live in the coldest ass apartment, I swear to god I’m freezing my ass off, and that’s even with the fire going. Are you a fucking yeti or something, Roman Roy?’

He chortles as you continue: ‘you thrive in colder climates, huh? That’s not surprising, considering a glare from your father could freeze hell over.’ You take a final sip of your drink before reaching over and placing it on the sleek black coffee table; Roman’s eyes drop for a split second as if almost in despondency, some kind of deep scarred sorrow peeking its way out like a tired child, before rising back to yours, seeking comfort. It doesn’t slip your attention. You make sure your fingers brush against his socks as you slip your hands back to your lap, and give a sweet squeeze to the tippy toes. He lets out a giggle and kicks his foot out at you, and it’s the most delightful sound you’d ever hear: that true, unadulterated happiness that Roman Roy rarely ever is permitted to have, without some kind of malicious intention lurking behind it.

‘Okay, well, one’, he ostentatiously holds a finger up by twirling it in the air, and it takes you a second to realise he’s pointedly showing you his middle finger. ‘Fuck you. Two-’, he decides to count with his pinkie finger, ‘my dad owns twenty three hours, I own approximately zero fucking squilch of that. And three, I’m a fucking incredible designer - see that Feng Shui over there? All me baby, I would have fucking killed it as an interior design.’

‘Having one sad as fuck looking potted plant by the window and literally no personal items doesn’t count as Feng Shui, dumbass. You’re just sad.’

‘Okay - well - if you’re such a smartass-’, Roman winds his hands up by his head but nearly lets the crystal glass his brother had bought him for his last birthday fall onto the hardwood floor, so he grimaces and gently places it on the rug. He turns back to glance at you, and despite the fact he’s positioning himself as if he’s conducting an interview: elbows resting on knees with hands clasped out before him, face set in stone, he still looks intent and truthfully curious about the answer he’s hoping you’ll give. ‘What was your childhood home like then? I’m sure full of unicorns that shart rainbows and fucking fairies that sneeze glitter from the way you hate my deco.’

You pause to think for a minute, not fully expecting such an honest question to come from Roman Roy. You place a finger gingerly against your lip, and in that second, perched up on the edge of the pristine settee, Roman wishes he could just leap over and replace your fingertip with his lips. He had never been so entranced by someone: never had the privilege of knowing someone from this corporate world who would be so truthful, so different from him. And yet, at the same time, someone who so deliciously, so crudely, so cruelly reminded him of the young child locked in the cage within his heart: so unknowingly let him cling onto the little bit of him he had tried to keep alive. The only bit of him left that wasn’t a Roy. That was just Roman.

Yet, even in the hope that clouded his mind as he awaited your answer, your words came like slices to slit against his throat. ‘Well, I suppose my home was... well, not to sound pedestrian, or super corny, but it was a happy one?’ He nodded, content to bleed out in front of you. ‘There was usually a lot of laughter, and of course a lot of stress, but you know. We could all rely on each other. It was... yeah, it was nice.’ You stop, biting your bottom lip and switching your legs around so you could raise them up and pull them against your chest.

You didn’t want to look at the man sitting before you suddenly. It was as if he had regressed into himself as you went along: withering, shivering slightly like a frosty chill over an empty playground. It looked - it felt unnatural, as he stared at you without seeing. He blinked languidly for a moment, soaking in your words, before jutting his bottom lip out and trying his best to grin at you. ‘Well, my childhood wasn’t so horrid either. My brother took me and Ken camping once, and although it was fucking sleeting down like bullets of pure fucking ice down by the stream, Connor did eat a fish that looked like a mouldy shoe and spent most of the night running off into the woods holding his ass.’

He snorts then, his little high pitched hyena laugh bubbling out of him as he places the back of his hand against his lips to try and hold it in, and you can’t help but laugh along with him at the sorry image of the supposed Roy brother patriarch scuttling around like a crab with diarrhoea.

‘That’s sweet, but do you have any other actual memories with your family where someone isn’t being ridiculed?’

‘Woah, hey-’, he holds both his hands up, and slides down from the armrest to come sit in front of you. ‘When you meet my brother, you’ll understand that he deserves it.’ You flush slightly at the implication, becoming rather uncharacteristically bashful around Roman, and glancing quickly down between your legs. Pulling at a thread until it becomes loose, you pray the timid fire glow is enough to hide from him the rushing heat crawling up your neck. Due to the fact that Roman also is shyly looking down at the toes he’s currently wiggling to busy himself, you both miss the way the other is blushing.

‘But...uh’, he starts finally after a moment of contemplation: a blessed few minutes of serendipitous indulgence, of growing warmth and familiarity, and just enough time for the two of you to realise how much your presence and conversation had only furthered endeared the two of you to each other, despite the hint of sadness that laced it.

‘I really - I mean, my dad was like, always busy.’ He scratches the back of his head, embarrassed by the way you tilt your head and look quizzically at him. He becomes hyper aware of how close his knee is to resting against yours, and decides to swallow the fear that seems to be clogging up the back of his throat, and shuffles forward until there’s finally contact. ‘And my brother was like, following in his footsteps and all that jazz’, his eyes widen as he holds his hands out by his side. ‘So there wasn’t really much time for... fun, I guess. Or mistakes. Or family.’

It breaks your heart to watch him deflate once he finishes speaking, and suddenly the austere, cold walls and empty, hollow halls of his apartment make all the more sense. He looks so worn out, so tired of having to hide himself away behind a big, empty mansion full of props and antiques and nothingness all put out for show, because that’s what he was. That’s how he saw himself. A big, empty, tired, twisted puppet trying to bend over backwards to escape the marionette strings of daddy’s love, not realising they’re choking him. It was a strategy, a way to protect himself: to become placid, to mask yourself as being one of them, to fit in with his father’s lifestyle, and maybe then the slaps and strikes and kicks and whimpers would feel like something good. Because he’s trying to be just like his father. So if he’s hit, it’s only because the puppet hasn’t quite danced to the right tune, that’s all.

As you glance around, you finally begin to notice how unused all the furniture in Roman’s apartment looks: the cellarette by the bar that looks as if it had been varnished yesterday, to the large screen television on the either side of the elongated room that Roman clearly only put on once a night to watch the news, to the velvet cushioned armchair positioned to sweep out and look across the skyline of the city, yet the headrest didn’t even have a dent. All these things. All this barrenness. It made you sick to your stomach. Here he was: a toy left on the shelf to collect dust, taken out to play with only when it suited the puppet master, and he was still so desperate for love that he still tried to copy his father.

And you could see from the way his eyes were beginning to turn blood shot as he slowly sat there and turned the cogs in the back of his brain over, that this was a thought he had had many times before.

You try your best not to look at him too pitifully, in case he might take offence and retreat back into his shell again when you hold out your hands to him. He swallows thickly, watching your every movement as your fingers unfurl over his knees, and you signal at him to come closer. For a moment, as he squints his eyes at you, he seems tentative. But then you roll your eyes, trying your best to still seem casual, and flutter your fingers at him again.

It takes less than a second for him to latch on this time, and his fingers grip into the sides of your skin so tightly you’re afraid he may draw blood. But then, you suppose, that’s all he’s been familiarised with.

‘It’s fine, I’m fine’, he tries to shrug it off, but his fingers only squeeze into yours all the more desperately. Worried he’ll try and pull away if you keep them suspended between your touching knees, you slowly pull them down to rest on your lap as he continues talking. He begins to play with your fingers almost subconsciously, looping them through his stout ones. ‘I mean, sure, my earliest memory is Shiv trying to drown me in the pool because she didn’t want so many older brothers to take all of daddy’s attention away from her. And Ken was never really present, dad was always shipping him away to some conference training or having him sit at his feet like his lap dog, but it’s fine. I’m fine. I grew up to be a well adjusted adult without any concerning issues at all.’

Although his tone is mocking, once he’s finished his rambling thought he lets go of your hand to rub his eyes. He does a half-yawn to try and cover the fact that they’re becoming rather bleary - to hide the fact that this is beginning to get at him, actually. And he’d rather stop now, if that’s alright. He’s the jokester in the family. The happy man. The go to cheer-upper. The pathetic one. He didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to cry in front of you. He was never allowed to cry.

He jumps when he feels your hand against his knee, and he sniffles slightly when he looks down and sees you’ve leaned closer towards him. ‘And your dad?’, you ask quietly, cautiously, pulling the hand of his you were still holding tightly into your sternum. ‘What was he like growing up?’

‘Well, I was annoying. I- I am annoying, so, you know-’

He chokes then, and this time he can’t stop the sob that breaks out from the back of his throat like an overdue bell chime.

‘I’m annoying. I’m fucking annoying, you know that?’, he chokes out between sobs, doubling over on himself, but he’s still laughing between each gasping breathe. ‘I’m such a piece of shit’, he states, doing his best to stop his lip from wobbling and the tears from clouding out of his eyes, but he doesn’t complain when you take your hand off his lap and guide it to the small of his back, just before the dip in his shoulder blades. Gently - ever so gently, as if you were cradling a new born child still so unused to human touch, you guide him down to lie on your legs. He goes easily, taking his hands back to lean them under his chin, and allowing you full utility of your fingers. You put them to good use, beginning to stoke back stray curls of his mother’s hair away from his face, tucking them behind his ear until his breathing evens again.

He watches the sun fall over the edge of the Waystar Royco building: a sight he has seen many times before, but one that feels all the more eerie as the slates of dark metal blot out the light like a flashy tomb.

You bring him back, pursing your lips together and trying not to laugh sorrowfully as he sneezes at the feel of your finger moving down his forehead to trace over the dip of his nose, and evidently tickle it. You move onto the curve of his left eye, and it fills you with at least a little comfort to notice the way he squeezes his eyes shut at the movement. What was less welcome, though, were the few pearly tears that slipped past the cracks of his eyes and began to trace down the old bruised shaped hollows of his cheeks.

‘God Roman’, you choke out, trying to gently turn his head so he’s looking up at you. For a moment, he throws a tantrum and shakes his head in refusal, but your fingers are unrelenting and all forgiving against the side of his jaw, and soon he can’t help but give in to the love he’s so desperately begging for. He allows you to turn him, still squirming in your touch, until the two of you make eye contact. And there’s such naivety there, such desire and craving and conviction and belief as he keeps his eyes trained wholly on yours, that the words just come tumbling out of your mouth.

‘I’m going to fight your whole family I swear. I’m going to fight them all, one by one, and then take over Waystar, maybe find out what the fuck is going on between this Cousin of yours and Shiv’s husband’, he chortles at that, and chokes a little, ‘and then the two of us can burn the place to the ground and ride off into the sunset.’

Although he feels only elation at your words, he starts to shake when you use the pads of his thumbs to gently, tenderly wipe the tears away from beside his nose.

‘Stop, please’, he whimpers, but you know he’s not talking about your physical actions. ‘My dad’s never going to die, even if he is gone. Just- just- get out while you can, okay? Just fucking run.’ He grabs up at your hands, and holds onto one intently. ‘Just fucking go, okay, because I will destroy you. I’m- fucking poison, alright?’

‘No, no’, you state more firmly, when you see the creases in his forehead begin to appear. He shakes his head, and his whole face crinkles up when you admit the one thing left unspoken between the two of you.

‘You - you’re worth it. You’re worth putting up with all of this for, Roman Roy. One day, you’ll be free, and we’ll get to make new memories. Better ones.’

‘Just shut up. Shut the fuck up. Please. Just-’

His words die out on his mouth when you lean down swiftly and replace them with your waiting lips. His hand falls from where it was encircling your wrist, and after a moment of stunned shock, comes up to press firmly against the nape of your neck. His widened eyes melt slowly into a blissful, languid close, and despite the fact that he has no fucking idea how to actually kiss someone he cares about, he does a mighty good job of latching onto your bottom lip and whimpering when you go to pull away.

‘You promise’, he whispers into the tense air between the tip of your nose and the side of his stubble. He leans up to kiss you again, and a bite of saltiness stings at your mouth. ‘You promise’, he murmurs again as he opens his mouth, refusing to break away from the kiss: instead breathing you in and licking the tip of his tongue against your own. Steadying yourself, you grip onto his biceps, and press a last, ardent kiss to his mouth by latching onto his top lip.

‘I swear, Roman, I swear to god I’m going to make up for all the lack of love your family has given you. And I’ll start right now.’

#succession #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #succession imagine #kendall roy #shiv roy #connor roy #logan roy #roman roy angst #roman roy fluff #kieran culkin #succession fanfic #succession fanfiction

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