Connor decides two weeks into the semester that he absolutely hates good guy, know-it-all Oliver Hampton. The way his wide shoulders stretch as he raises a hand to answer a question or ask one. The way he’s always paying attention, looking down at his notes, with his glasses sliding down his nose. The way he worries his bottom lip with his teeth, and sometimes chews on the back of his pencil – it’s distracting.
So when Connor comes in one day and finds Oliver sitting in the seat right beside the one where Connor always sits, Connor’s sure they are about to have a throw down, drag out verbal fight.
Tag: to read
Connor walks into his apartment and shrugs his coat off, placing on the table next to the door. With a deep sigh, he flops onto his bed. He burrows his head into his pillow as he recalls the events from this night.
“I’m going to have to take so many cold showers because of him,” he tells himself.
Earlier
“I’m just stuck in traffic,” Connor lies as he files away papers for Annalise. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“You’re supposed to be here helping mom set up the dining hall. The baby shower starts at five, that’s less than an hour!” Gemma hollers.
Connor flinches away from the sharp voice on the other side of the call. “I know and I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you,” Connor promises.
He gathers the last of his things before waving to Bonnie to let her know he is heading out. Stepping outside, he folds the collar of his coat as he steps into the brisk, December wind, and maneuvers his way around the obnoxious piles of drifted snow to get to his car. Connor can’t be happier that he was going to have another nephew or niece. Even so, he hates baby showers. There are too many relatives, whom he barely remembers, that ask too many questions about who he’s dating. Still, there isn’t anything he won’t do for his sister.
He arrives at Hampton’s Inn twenty minutes later, mentally preparing himself for the lecture he is about to receive from his sister. Lost in his thoughts, Connor doesn’t see the man in front of him until their chests collide and his shirt is stained from the stranger’s coffee.
“God, I’m so sorry!” the man exclaims. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. The coffee only burns a little,” replies Connor.
“I really am sorry,” the stranger sighs, fixing the glasses on his face. “Come with me. I can get you a new shirt and have this one washed for you.”
“Oh you don’t have to so that. Plus I’m running late for something.”
“Wait. Are you here for Gemma?”
“You know my sister?”
The man laughs, “Yeah. She came to ask me to change the temperature in the room she’s staying. She yelled at me for about five minutes; I thought she wasn’t going to stop until I cried.”
“That sounds like her.”
“I’m not taking anymore chances to upset her,” the man declares, grabbing a hold of Connor’s hand. “You’re coming with me, I’m getting you a new shirt, then you can go attend your party. Let’s go.”
Deciding not to argue, Connor let’s the man guide him. As they walk, he realizes how handsome the man really is. He has short, dark hair that he keeps nervously running a hand through, and black framed glasses. The stranger has a sweet smile that Connor can’t help but stare at. Connor’s mind starts to race with impure thoughts and he has to shake his head to keep them at bay.
One Minute More || Prologue
Summary: The murder never happened, and Connor and Oliver are just friends with benefits. When Connor’s mother won’t stop bothering him about getting married and having kids, he tells her that he’s dating Oliver. Fake dating AU.
Connor prods the meat on his plate with his fork and sighs.
Forty-five minutes have passed, and his mother shows no signs of slowing down.“Connor, sweetie, your sister was engaged at your age.”
“That’s great her – really,
but I’m not planning on getting married anytime soon.” He stabs down at a piece
of broccoli and gives his mother a tense smile.
Malec Fanfiction: Sleeping Arrangements
Alec kicks Magnus out of bed after an argument.
It’s always the stupid arguments that end up doing the most damage. The ones that are the hardest to apologise for and hardest to forgive. Usually because they’re caused by something careless – not thinking before saying something best left unsaid, or a bad habit that you never really considered a bad habit until your lover pointed it out, by which point it’s too ingrained to stop. For example, stealing. He’d never considered it stealing, not really. It was just convenient. Fancy some coffee? One click of the fingers and there it is, just the way you like it. Tired of your living room decor? No problem, one click and you’ve got a whole new makeover. Okay, so he’d never really spared much thought for where the things he summoned actually came from, it had never bothered him. But of course a Shadowhunter, the upholders of the Law, would have a problem with that. That was why it was one o’clock in the morning and Magnus was lying on the sofa in the living room, while Alec was in bed in the bedroom.
He definitely thought Alec had overreacted. He’d only offered to buy him some new clothes – even promised it’d just be a new black sweater, something he knew Alec would actually wear – and Alec had flown off the handle.
‘You’re not going to buy me anything!’ he had yelled. ‘You’ll steal it, like you steal everything else!’
He’d tried to tell Alec that that simply wasn’t true, but when he thought about it, it actually was. He’d bought the coffee machine for Alec, but it was the only thing he could remember paying for in a long time.
‘It’s not like you don’t make enough money,’ Alec had continued. ‘The amount you charge your clients. I have always defended you, you know. They actually asked me in the last Clave meeting. Put me on the spot and asked me if “my warlock” ever summoned demons for purposes other than Clave investigations. I said no. It’s lucky they didn’t consider it important enough to warrant use of the Mortal Sword. I lied for you because you have to make a living don’t you. But what was even the point when you never spend the money you make from illegal clientele anyway?’
‘They were checking up on me?’ Magnus had asked, torn somewhere between incredulity, amusement and annoyance. ‘You’d think they’d at least ask someone with less inclination to lie.’
‘I’m a Shadowhunter,’ Alec replied. ‘I’m supposed to put the Law first.’
Magnus had had no response to that, and it had been his undoing. He had been relegated to sleeping on the sofa and Alec had slammed the bedroom door in his face.
The sofa was fairly large, but Magnus still had to rest his feet on one arm of it in order to lie straight. The blanket he was wrapped in was only a thin one, usually used for snuggling up in when watching TV in the winter. Chairman Meow was curled up on his chest, giving him a little extra warmth, but it meant he could no longer move around to get comfortable.
‘Alec?’ he called. Testing. It had been three hours since Alec had thrown him out of bed. He wanted to know if Alec was still awake too. There was no reply for almost half a minute and Magnus thought Alec had fallen asleep after all. He was surprised by how hurt he was by the idea that Alec could go to sleep angry with him.
‘What?’ Alec’s reply was short, curt, but unmistakably wide awake.
Magnus smiled. ‘I’m cold!’
‘Why don’t you steal yourself a blanket?’
Should have seen that one coming, Magnus thought. ‘You tell me off for stealing and now you’re recommending it?’ he called back. ‘I have to admit, I’m getting mixed signals over here, Alexander.’
Alec didn’t reply to this.
‘It’s okay. I understand,’ Magnus said. ‘I’ll just lie here and freeze to death. I don’t mind.’ He threw one hand dramatically over his forehead and dangled the other over the edge of the sofa; classic damsel in distress posture.
‘Don’t be such a drama queen!’
For a moment Magnus thought Alec had actually seen him, but of course not, he was behind a closed door. His fabulous acting was going to waste.
Several minutes passed in silence.
‘Alexaaandeeer!’
Alec didn’t reply.
‘Alexaaandeeer!’
Nothing.
‘Alexaaaaandeeeeer!’
‘By the Angel, what?’
‘Just checking you were still awake.’
Alec didn’t reply. Magnus grinned as he imagined the scowl on Alec’s face.
He lay in silence for a while. His elevated feet were beginning to go numb and he had no choice but to shift the Chairman from his chest so he could get comfortable again. The Chairman gave him a scornful look before pouncing from the sofa and streaking off to sulk under the dinner table. Magnus rolled onto his side and curled into a ball, wrapping the thin blanket around him as tightly as possible.
He wondered how serious Alec’s anger was. Serious enough to kick him out of bed, which had never happened before. This meant he must have been angry for a while and had not told Magnus until he couldn’t keep it bottled up anymore. But instead of focusing on ways in which he could make it up to Alec, all Magnus could think about was Alec’s confession of having lied to the Clave for him. Alec had always been the strongest upholder of the Law out of the Lightwood children. The most sensible, the most honest, the most reliable. It must have been a real shock to his parents to discover in exactly the same moment that not only was their son gay, he was dating a Downworlder. Lovely, sensible, reliable Alexander Gideon Lightwood, dating someone he knew the Clave would not approve of. And he had showed them how little he cared what they thought by kissing Magnus in front of them all. They must have had to re-evaluate everything they knew about him in that instant. Can he still be trusted? they must have wondered. Evidently not; he had lied to them to protect Magnus. But where did he draw the line?
At stealing, apparently.
He heard the shift of bedsprings from in the bedroom and cocked his head to the side, listening. But he didn’t hear footsteps or opening doors and Alec didn’t speak. Magnus let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding.—
Another hour passed, then two, and Magnus tossed and turned on the sofa, still wide awake.
He supposed the reason he’d never given much thought to how his theft affected the people he’d stolen from was because he didn’t have to see them – didn’t even have to see the place he was stealing from – so he had never had to think about it. Now he wondered if maybe his carelessness had something to do with his age. The thought chilled him.
You’ve had that concern before, he told himself. You were worried you’d never love anyone ever again. Had even stopped looking for love. And then Alec came along and changed everything. Apparently Alec was still changing things, and from this perspective Magnus was starting to think maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. It was like a wakeup call. A wakeup call in more ways than one, reopening Magnus’ eyes to the world around him. The world he had stopped seeing as he aged. His determination to not petrify had only made things worse, because it meant that when it had started to happen he had ignored it.
‘Alec?’ he said. He spoke softly, not wanting to wake Alec up if he had really fallen asleep this time. He wasn’t even sure Alec would hear him through the wall even if he was awake. But Magnus continued anyway. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right, I don’t think about the effects my actions have on other people. It’s not because I don’t care, it’s because I forgot how to care. And I didn’t even realise I had forgotten. But you showed me the truth, like you always do. You’ve shown me I’m still capable of love, you’ve shown me I’m still capable of caring about other people, and you’ve shown me there are still people in the world worth caring about.’ He fell silent for a moment. There was no sound from the bedroom. ‘This is why, Alexander. This is why you aren’t trivial. You’re more important to the world than you think and you’re more important to me than I will ever be able to show you, but that won’t stop me from trying to show you anyway. Because you deserve to know. I hate seeing you go through life thinking you don’t matter to anyone and I won’t let you think that ever again. You make me a better person and from now on I’m going to spend every second of our life together showing you that you already are one of the kindest, bravest and strongest people I have ever known and probably will ever know.’
More silence followed. Magnus sighed and closed his eyes against the burning feeling in them that threatened oncoming tears. He was not going to cry over this.
And then he heard footsteps from the other room and the door opened. A bright light illuminated the dark room as Alec lit his way through the clutter with witchlight. He dragged the heavy double quilt from the bed along behind him.
Magnus sat up and watched as Alec pulled the thin blanket off him, placed the quilt over him instead, then put the witchlight stone down on the floor, plunging them back into darkness. The edge of the sofa dipped as Alec sat down beside him. Then Alec’s warm hand on his cold shoulder forced him to lie back down. Alec’s lips lightly brushed Magnus’ and then Alec lay down beside him, head on Magnus’ chest, pulling the quilt tight around them both.
Magnus put one arm around Alec’s shoulders and rested his other hand on Alec’s waist, pulling Alec as close to him as he could. Neither of them said a word, and ten minutes later they were both fast asleep.
AU where Connor accidentally and drunkenly calls the guy who fixed his laptop once to pick him up from a club.
All of his contacts blur together as he squints. “Can someone help me find Uber?” he asks.
“You’re bailing on us, so no,” Asher says. He punches forward with his drink to accentuate what he says and manages to spill some, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Laurel and Michaela dance behind Asher, giggling to each other. They look drunker than he feels.
Prompt: Coliver and a kissing booth.
“Really?” Connor rolls his eyes and pulls a flyer off the wall. “A kissing booth?”
Oliver just shrugs. “It was the best student council could come up with.”
Connor raises an eyebrow. “And this doesn’t have anything to do with Nate DeMarco wanting to make out with the swim team?”
“Have you seen the swim team?” Oliver shoots back. Tugging the flyer out of Connor’s hands, Oliver smooths down the corners and rehangs it on the wall. “At least it’s not selling wrapping paper. I think my mom would have disowned me if I brought that catalog home again.”
“True.” Connor shoves his hands in his pockets as they resume walking down the hall.
They pass two classrooms before Connor works up the nerve to ask, “So, who’s manning the booth?”
He goes for a carefree, joking tone but the words just come out as a whisper. Like, he’s afraid of the answer – and maybe he is.
“Well,” Oliver licks his lips. “Volunteers from student council. All the class presidents are taking a shift-”
“So – You.” Connor’s quick to jump in. “You are going be in the kissing booth?” He asks just to make sure he didn’t misunderstand and his stomach clenches when Oliver nods.
They’re silent the rest of the way to Oliver’s classroom. Once there, they linger in the hallway. Connor finds a spot over Oliver’s shoulder to stare at and Oliver messes with the strap of his backpack.
“So-” Connor begins, running a hand through his hair and avoiding Oliver’s eyes at all costs. “If someone wanted to kiss you, wha – what would they have to do?”
hey could you please write something based off “now i’m all messed up” by tegan and sara? i’ve been obsessed with this song recently and i thought it would fit coliver :) i love your writing btw!!
Oliver stared at his phone, but then caught himself and glanced away, back to work, back to his computer. He wished that had only been the first time today that he’d done that. Truth, he’d been waiting for the stupid thing to ring all morning.
He kind of hated himself for that. Hated Connor, too, just a little.
“I’ll call,” Connor had said as he stumbled out of Oliver’s apartment this morning. His shirt had been half tucked half not, his belt hung undone. His shoes hadn’t even been tied, but still he burst through that door like he’d catch fire if he stayed in the apartment one second longer. “I promise I’ll call.” Then he’d ran down the hallway.
Connor had never stayed the full night before, and Oliver’s sure this time was an accident. Their sex the night before had been… aerobic, and lasted well into the early morning. After, Connor had fallen asleep. His face had relaxed more than Oliver had ever seen. Oliver hadn’t the heart to wake him. Connor didn’t get enough sleep as it was, always carrying such heavy bags under his eyes and tension in his shoulders.
Plus, selfishly, Oliver had wanted him to stay, especially when Connor curled into his side and used his chest as a pillow.
He should have known better. All he did scare Connor away.
“He won’t call again,” Oliver said with a small nod, determined. He’d just have to forget Connor and Connor’s sharp smirk, and the way it slid away when Oliver made him moan. No problem. He could forget, too, the way Connor had smiled in his sleep, soft, in a way Oliver never really saw before. If only he’d smile at Oliver like that, once, while awake.
It’d hurt less when he forgets it. And the way Connor’s arm wrapped around him and held him tightly all night long. And the way he nuzzled his cheek against Oliver’s when he just woke up, before he realized what time it was.
Oliver sighed. He glanced at his phone. Then scolded himself.
Then his phone actually rang.
Uh, I don’t know if you’re doing prompts right now but Coliver would be perfect for a “I broke into your house/apartment to rob it but you were throwing up on the couch & I felt bad that you were home alone and sick so I stayed to take care of you”
Connor pulls himself over the railing and lands on Laurel and Michaela’s balcony with a thud. Looking quickly around to check if any of the neighbors heard him, he pads over to the sliding glass door and tries to shimmy it open.
When the old lock holds fast, Connor curses and lightly bangs the glass. None of this would be necessary if Michaela and Laurel hadn’t both gone home for the weekend. He just needed Michaela’s notes from Monday’s lecture. That was it. Nothing important but now he’s stuck on her balcony.
Connor tugs a hand through his hair, contemplating what do do next, when a face appears in the glass.
“Jesus!” he calls, throwing himself back against the railing. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” the guy inside the apartment demands. “What the fuck are you doing out there?”
More Medieval!AU (Part One)
Requested by mixingtheblues (Hope you enjoy bby! xoxo)
Also, this isn’t really very Medieval-ly but, for the sake of the original prompt, let’s just pretend. 🙂
Hours later, they are tangled up together in Connor’s bed, the chamber ablaze with the light of dozens of thick, tallow candles and a fire burning high in the grate.
Connor cards a hand through the Oliver’s thick hair, his tresses still damp from the bath, and watches shadows from the candles dance on the expanse of Oliver’s back while he dozes, pressed close to Connor’s side.
“I like your hair,” Connor mumbles as the strands slip through his fingers.
Oliver lifts his chin and blinks up at Connor like an owl. “What?”
“Your hair,” Connor repeats, curling a piece around his forefinger. “It’s longer than before. I like it.”
“You’re the only one then,” Oliver says, dismissive and drowsy, as he burrows himself deeper back into Connor’s side. He had almost been asleep before this ridiculous discussion about hair of all things. “I’m cutting it in the morning.”
“But you can’t,” Connor protests.
Oliver lifts his head again to give a pointed look and cocks an eyebrow. “I can’t.”
“That’s right. You can’t.” Connor is undeterred and bites back a grin. He had almost forgotten how easy Oliver made it sometimes. “I’m the King. I order you not to cut your hair.”
“You order me.”
Can you please do a part 3 of single dad Oliver?!
Oliver holds Max until he cries himself to sleep, then takes him to his crib. With Max safe and sleeping soundly, Oliver storms back into the living room and picks up the phone.
No one makes his son cry like that. Not even the guy Oliver’s been in love with since maybe forever. No, especially not him.
Anger and hurt blur into rage. How could Connor react like that? Together, they’ve been trying to get Max to talk for weeks. Oliver was surprised at first too, by Max’s mistake, but… not in a bad way.
Connor’s been more and more flirtatious lately. Oliver thought… He’d wanted to take things slow, of course, but he also secretly hoped maybe Connor would someday want the job as Max’s Da-Da #2.
Oliver is so stupid.
He punches in the numbers for Connor’s cell. He knows them by heart. He takes a breath, holds it, and brings the phone to his ear.
And swears he hears Connor’s ringtone.
lanablack 