ramblesandreblogs:

A Coliver 2×04 Fast Coda

Connor can’t get his key to work. Between the exhaustion and the nerves, his hands keep shaking and he can’t catch the key in the lock. He rubs a hand over his eyes and tries, and fails again, to slide the key home.

Cursing, Connor pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to settle. It all feels too close. The conversation with Annalise. The case brining up ghosts from school Connor’d long thought buried.  It’s all coming up to the surface and Connor doesn’t know how to shove it all back down again. 

When the door to 303 swings open wide, Connor looks up. Oliver looks…rumbled. All sleepy and cozy and soft. He’s got PJs on and his hair’s matted down on one side. A line from the pillow case snakes across one cheek and he’s squinting without his glasses or contacts. 

“Connor?” Oliver asks, voice ruff with sleep. “What are you doing?”

“My keys.” Connor holds up the keyring and feels like an idiot. “Couldn’t get them to work.” 

“Okay.” 

Keep reading

ramblesandreblogs:

(…) They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then Oliver just *attacked* him. So Connor’s mouth was just a bit busy for any talking until Oliver got up to get the lube. (I may have been thinking about this a lot.)

oh my GOSH! I lovES IT!!

Connor going over what he’s going to say as he drives home. Talking out loud in the car so he can hear out it sounds, changing phrasing and debating word choice with himself because it all needs to come out perfectly. 

Meanwhile, Oliver’s back at the apartment. He wonders if taking off almost all his clothes was a bad idea. His apartment is so quiet, it’s unnerving. He also isn’t sure how to stand. Should he lean against the counter or sit on the couch? Maybe he should lay across the bed all ‘Howdy, Sailor’. He tries that one for about 0.8 seconds before jumping up because he feels like an idiot. What does he do with his hands? Why he is so nervous? Well, he knows why he’s nervous but still. Why isn’t Connor here yet?

Then Connor’s climbing the stairs and is walking down the hall, still muttering the whole spiel under his breath. He pauses outside the door for a steadying breath before slipping the key in the lock. 

Oliver turns at the scrape of the key and there’s Connor, home and safe. Suddenly, none of it matters to Oliver. The nerves and doubt fade away as he walks across the room. He’s no longer wondering what to do with his hands because they’re full of Connor. He isn’t debating where to stand because he’s where he’s supposed to be, standing, hip-to-hip with Connor. Connor’s home and safe on day 21.

Connor’s moan breaks as Oliver deepens the kiss. There was something he was supposed to say, something important, but he can’t think beyond Oliver’s breath in his ear and Oliver’s skin under his fingertips. If it’s that important, it’ll come back to him. 

nycswiftie:

ramblesandreblogs:

Oh! Nonny!! I want to help but I honestly don’t have any recs (short of a filtered ao3 search, which is not at all helpful).

Anyone have any fic recs?

MY TIME TO SHINE

My favorite Coliver smut fics (the best of the best from ao3):

• Estranged by PaisleyHearts
• If our time has gone too fast by bleep0bleep

   
        
  

• At Home (Sequel for On The Phone) by revolutionarywalsh
• To Be Hellish by daddykink
• Turn It Off and On Again by matchsticks_p (not as much smut in this one, but the sex parts are hot and the story is good, worth a read)
• So alive with wild hope by calissequecestmignon (Read this whole story because it is amazing, one of my all-time favorite Coliver fics. Chapter 5 is literally the HOTTEST Coliver smut I have ever read; I can’t tell you the amount times I’ve re-read that chapter.)
• Blade Runner Blues by checkyourthreadtension
• Unexpected by renorsomething

Hope this is helpful!   
     
        
     
       
     
     
     
     
       
     
     
     
  

shipofthesunflowergirl:

So @nycswiftie gave me wonderful AU to write a coliver fic and I didn’t let her down for once also enjoy

Oliver thought everything in his cute little life would feel different once he got diagnosed, but he was wrong. The next morning at work after he’d spent his night with tears and alcohol, he thought everything would have colossally shifted, and that he’d been thrown into a life of enternal dispair and all that jazz.

But there was that same chair at that same desk. Same picture of a a family with more dogs than cousins, more hugs than necessary, more smiles than bickering. Same old unpredictable copy machine right behind his desk.

Same cute boy at work.

Keep reading

fvckyouimaprophet:

Oliver presses a kiss to Connor’s neck and grins when Connor’s eyes flutter shut. “You’Your neck is so sensitive.”

“Shut up.”

“No, that’s a good thing.” His hand falls down to Connor’s, and he laces their fingers together as he leans in closer. “We have the house all to ourselves until five,” Oliver says.

“When did you become the demanding one?”

Keep reading

monicashipscoliver:

oops my hand slipped and i nsfw-ed (post 2×03)

It’s sex. It’s just sex. But it feels like so much more.

Oliver, pinning Connor down with his body and his gaze. His mouth and hands everywhere at once. Connor is on fire, burning alive under the intensity of this moment, the furious pounding of his heart.

“Ollie,” he whimpers, overcome with the weight this new emotion, this bursting love that mends so seamlessly with such hot desire. His body craves this, has craved this for weeks.

His heart has, too.

Keep reading

ramblesandreblogs:

A Coliver 2×03 Coda – (ao3)

Lounging back against the pillows, Connor tilts his head to the side and smiles. Oliver’s in the bathroom, disposing of the condom and getting a washcloth, and he’s humming all the while. 

Oliver is humming and Connor’s trying not to find it unspeakably endearing. 

He walks back in the bedroom carrying a washcloth and Connor reaches for it, automatically. But Oliver ignores Connor’s outstretched hand and takes the cloth to Connor’s stomach himself, wiping away the mess. 

The cloth is warm, almost soothing, and Connor relaxes a bit under it. Oliver’s movements are efficient and almost perfunctory but nothing about the gesture feels like simple courtesy. To Connor, it feels like being taken care of. 

Task complete, Oliver glances over his shoulder to toss the cloth into the laundry basket before leaning down to kiss Connor’s stomach. 

He lazily nibbles and pecks up Connor’s chest, kissing the ribs he can find, detouring to circle a tender nipple with his tongue. Connor tangles a hand with Oliver’s and trails a hand down Oliver’s back, lightly scoring the skin with his nails. Until finally, Oliver capture’s Connor’s lips with his own.

The entire process is effortless and slow. No building pressure or hurried anticipation of what’s to come. Just pleasure, simple, unadulterated pleasure. 

Oliver bites on Connor’s lips just to feel Connor’s smile against his own. Connor angles his head and presses up to take the kiss deeper, almost bruising, because he can. It’s taking the time to revel in skin against skin and lip against lip as their hears beat as one. 

With a final kiss that lingers, Oliver pulls back and rests his arms on Connor’s chest. Settling legs between Connor’s and notching his chin on his forearms, Oliver licks his lips rather deliberately and Connor’s huffs a laugh in response. He absently traces patterns on Oliver’s skin and delights in Oliver’s weight on him. It’s grounding and comforting in a way Connor never expected. 

“Do you need anything?” Oliver asks. 

Connor’s about to shake his head in no when he glances up. Oliver’s got that look in his eye again. That look of devotion and caring and…and love. 

Keep reading

ramblesandreblogs:

Coliver prompt: Oliver has an admirer at work….

Connor punched the elevator button again before shoving his hand in his pocket and turning away. In the middle of the bank of elevators, he rocked back on his heels and tried to guess which of the the lot was going to arrive first. 

You still have time to get out of here. 

Connor brushed the thought aside when the bell dinged and the doors for the far right elevator slid open. He waited for the busy car to empty before slipping in alone. Selecting Oliver’s floor, Connor tapped a finger against his thigh as the elevator started its ascent.  

This is going to be a mistake. 

The elevator stopped to pick up a large group on the sixth floor and Connor stepped back to lean against the far wall and let their boisterous conversation wash over him.

He told you he was going to handle this.

The group got off at nine so Connor was alone again for the rest of the way up to seventeen. Plenty of time to think about last night.

Keep reading

freakypumpkin:

I had a very emotional moment tonight, and then this scene popped into my head and I decided to write it and share it. 🙂 It’s a little thing for the TV-show plot-thingy with Alec’s arranged marriage. 

Isabelle going to Magnus the day Alec’s supposed to get married.
(not edited)

“My brother’s getting married today.”

Isabelle’s voice was thin, filled with shards of broken glass, the words coming out flat and sounding far away. She was breathing heavily, but Magnus doubted it was because she’d been running to his place. Shadowhunters didn’t get out of breath because of something simple like that. No, her body was trying to hold back the words she wanted to say, that were on her tongue, fighting to be the first, but this way they wouldn’t make sense. Isabelle had to fight herself to keep them in order, to keep herself from falling apart.

“I know.” Magnus had tried so hard to forget it, to forget everything, forget that smile, that laugh, those eyes, the glare, the disbelieving chuckle, it was too much to forget, too much that he actually wanted to keep. He had wanted to throw things against the wall of his apartment, but in the end he’d just stood there staring at the wall, breathing heavily like Isabelle now because his chest had been heavy with emotions he couldn’t get rid of. 

“Get him away from that altar.”

Isabelle’s hands began shaking, her voice as well. She wanted to scream, but she didn’t because she knew it wouldn’t get her anywhere, wouldn’t change anything. Magnus looked at her with honest surprise. “What?”

“Get him away from that altar.” There was more force, more desperation, some tears that tainted the words, blurred their lines and made them clearer at the same time. “I tried everything. I couldn’t convince him to walk away, so now I am here asking you to do it.”

“Isabelle, I can’t-”

“YES YOU CAN!” Tears broke free, but they were filled with rage. “I’m sick of hearing this! You can drag him away the same way he could walk away himself, the same way may parents could call the whole thing off, everybody can do this, but nobody does anything! I would lock him away somewhere if it would change anything, but it wouldn’t …” The rage broke and gave space to sadness mixed with desperation. “… the wedding would just be postponed. He needs a reason to say ‘no’, to walk away-”

Magnus felt his own heart constrict while she spoke, loosing herself in her own words, her eyes falling to the floor, crawling across the walls. 

“Isabelle, this isn’t about-” There was that helplessness in his own voice and he hated it.

“I DON’T CARE ABOUT POLITICS!“ 

Now the walls broke, everything just fell to pieces. 

"FOR ME THIS IS ABOUT MY BROTHER BEING HAPPY, ABOUT HIM LAUGHING ABOUT YOUR STUPID JOKES, ABOUT HIM SMILING MORE OFTEN SINCE HE MET YOU.” Hot streams of tears fell down Isabelle’s cheeks as she stood there before Magnus falling apart with pride. She wasn’t ashamed of her tears. She wore them like an armor and maybe they were one. Swallowing heavily she continued, not screaming anymore, her words filled with a controlled silence that was sharp like a razor. “Call me immature and short-sighted if you want to, I don’t care. I’ve seen my parents being stuck in a loveless marriage for so long, I’ve seen them crying, I’ve heard them yelling at each other … I want my brother to be happy and I think you are the one he’d walk away from that altar for. You are the one that made him smile and laugh like he hasn’t for so long.”

Magnus couldn’t remember if he’d ever felt so much tension tearing at him. Everything was yanking him into the same direction and he was wondering what actually was still holding him back. In the end it was easy. It was the rational part of his brain, the part that had reminded him of the rules he’d made for himself. He had more or less tried to stay clear of the nephilim for the past centuries, that plan had gone to hell the moment he’d helped Jocelyn Fairchild, the moment he’d offered Clary Fray his help. Valentine was after him and the last thing he should do right now was bringing the Clave up against him, the family leading the New York Institute as well. No, he really shouldn’t do it.

“It’s going to cause a mess.” The words were half-formed thoughts, spoken to soon, spoken too loudly. 

“I know”, Isabelle whispered, her eyes unforgiving about his doubts. “And this is the moment you have to decide if Alec’s worth it.”

Magnus looked up at her. In the end it was an easy decision.

ramblesandreblogs:

so this is…i don’t even know you guys…..

Connor’s buzzed when he leaves the club. 

Not on alcohol. He’d stopped after one. It wouldn’t do to show up back at Oliver’s home reeking of booze, after ditching Oliver on their first official night living together. 

So, it wasn’t alcohol or drugs or anything else giving him this feeling as he drove home. This giddy, ecstatic, thrilling feeling of being alive. 

The itch of adrenaline pulsing under his skin came from it all. Being out. Having fun. Dancing. Laughing. Teasing. Letting it go. Forgetting for a night about classes and work and how exhausting lying was. 

And Oliver. 

Coming home to Oliver. 

I’m going home to Oliver. 

Keep reading