ramblesandreblogs:

Prompt fill: Coliver hs!au with Oliver’s family not being supportive of Connor and Oliver’s relationship. 

Warnings for: homophobia and also school dances/prom.

Author’s note: This prompt fill is terribly old and I am so sorry but I don’t remember the blogger who sent it. I accidentally deleted the ask because I am the worst. I am sorry this is so late, bby. 😦

As much as Oliver tried to not get his hopes up and keep his expectations in check, he still gets nervous waiting in the Walshes dinning room, with his face all but pressed up against the window, watching for the familiar blue of his family’s mini-van to pull up the drive.

He’d told his parents the time they were all gathering for pictures at Connor’s house three times and had even tried one final time to get his mom to change her mind as he was heading out the door.

“I’m heading out now, Mom,” Oliver told her as he went into the kitchen to grab the boutineer for Connor out of the fridge. “I’m picking up Wes and then Asher but you guys can come over to the Walshes around four, if you want. That’s when the other parents are coming over for pictures.”

“Where are you going, honey?” she asked, looking up from the pot she was stirring.

“Prom, Mom.” Oliver tried not to snap at her but it was hard. She knew exactly where he was going. She’d watched him walk in this morning carrying a garment bag after he’d picked up his tux. She had to have seen the small box from the florist in the fridge as she prepped dinner. She knew what was happening tonight, how important it was. “I’m taking Connor to prom, remember?”

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monicashipscoliver:

Being in love with Connor Walsh is like riding waves in a hurricane. He is a force, magnanimous and beautiful. Breathtaking. Awe-inspiring. Dangerous.

They’re in a bar. They’ve been here before. They come here a lot when they need out of the apartment.

When they first started dating,  Oliver would sit there across from Connor at the table and watch him check out every man in the bar. Every time Connor’s gaze would stray, Oliver knew they wouldn’t last. Connor would grow bored, move on. Oliver would get hurt. He hardened his heart, tried not to care, but it hurt even then, so early, that Connor wouldn’t just look at him.

Oliver came here alone when they broke up. He tried to check out the men like Connor did. If he could act more like Connor, maybe he wouldn’t hurt so much. But in truth, he only checked out the men to see if Connor was among them.

Now, Connor reaches out across the table and takes Oliver’s hand. He laces their fingers together right there on the tabletop, his thumb running back and forth along Oliver’s. Oliver shivers at the intimacy of such a simple touch. At the gentle possessiveness.

Connor’s eyes are on their hands, then lift to Oliver’s face. He smiles.

He could hurt Oliver so easily if he wanted. Their relationship is fragile yet. All he has to do is let his gaze roam across the room. He’s done it before.

But things are different now.

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michbaelapratt:

rating: teen
words: 600 – 700
warnings: un-betaed, murder?, body disposing

“You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen.” Connor sighs, as his roommate, Oliver, kneeling, turns his head over to him.

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ilikeyouxactually:

AHHHH!!! Angst angst angst! I have not written enough angst so THANK YOU for this amazing prompt! I love love love it! Seriously! I hope you like it!! Enjoy xx

Visiting Oliver’s work wasn’t something Connor did often. And when he did, it was only on the rare occasion when Oliver forgot his lunch, or when Connor just wanted to pop in to say hi. 

And today, his poor boyfriend forgot his sandwich in the fridge. Not like he was running late because Connor had insisted on glorious morning sex, no matter how much Oliver protested. Nothing like that at all. So that’s how Connor found himself striding into Oliver’s office at 12:45 pm on that cloudy Thursday afternoon, sandwich in hand.

Oliver was relieved, giving Connor an eager hug and kiss, thanking him for coming out of his way to drop off his lunch. “It’s really no inconvenience,” Connor would shrug off coolly, pulling up a chair to sit by Oliver so they could talk while he ate.

“So what have you done today?” Oliver asked before taking a large bite out of his sandwich, pulling his chair closer to Connor’s so their knees touched. Something Connor noted about them: no matter what they were doing, or where they were, they always had to be touching. Somehow. Even if it was just their knees. It was like an unspoken assurance that they were there. Something Connor grew to take much comfort in.

“Eh,” Connor shrugged, fiddling with the stapler on Oliver’s desk, “nothing really. Finished up a report for Annalise, worked on some homework…” he trailed off, turning to give Oliver a smile. “What about you? how has it been in here?”

“Oh you know, madness as usual…” Oliver replied with a wave of his hand, shaking his head incredulously. “Seriously, we had five printers crash on us today. Three systems go down and off the line. A couple bugs that nearly wiped all of our information from our supervisor’s computer. Like, really? How can so much go wrong in just a few hours?” he groaned, taking an aggressive bite out of his sandwich.

“Well.” Connor began with a heavy sigh, leaning in close to Oliver, “thank god they have you.” He pressed a tender kiss to Oliver’s cheek, watching adoringly as the man’s face slowly turned a soft pink. Just before Oliver could reply, offering their plans for tonight, a knock came to Oliver’s open door. A tall man with messy golden brown hair, dressed in a dark suit popped half into Oliver’s office.

“Oliver, if you get a chance, I need you to stop by Josh’s office–said something about his…” he never finished what he was saying. Because by the time he got settled in talking, he eyed Connor. “Connor Walsh?” The man asked with an amused smile. “You know Oliver?” Connor raised his brows in confusion. He didn’t really recognize this guy, but apparently he knew Connor.

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monicashipscoliver:

Connor’s not sure when exactly it happened, when Oliver stopped being that guy I sleep with and became the only guy I want to sleep with for the rest of my life. It happened gradually, he thinks, when he wasn’t paying attention.

He went to bed with Oliver holding him and woke up strewn atop Oliver who had rolled over onto his back in the night. Oliver’s snoring, hair messy, one hand curled into the comforter, the other wrapped protectively around Connor’s shoulder.

And Connor knows, this is the guy I want to spend forever with.

So there he is, wrapped up in a sleeping Oliver, having an existential crisis. What does he do? Does he propose? Do they get married and move to the suburbs? Buy a house with a garage? Adopt a few kids?

What if that isn’t what Oliver wants? Does he even know what Oliver wants?

Oliver’s hand twitches in his sleep, fingers tightening on Connor’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “‘ove you,” Oliver mumbles into Connor’s hair.

Okay, so maybe Oliver’s always made it obvious what he wants. Connor laughs, relief blooming, washing away unfounded fears.

He’d ask and Oliver would say yes. Just like when he suggested they move in together, and Oliver insisted they go to Lowe’s right now and get another key made to apartment 303. Oliver smiled so wide that night, Connor didn’t think that strange fluffy feeling in his chest would ever go away.

It’s back now, vibrant and pulsating and Connor can’t stop laughing.

He decides to ask Oliver the minute he wakes up.

He waits a full 30 seconds before deciding it’s taking too long and shakes Oliver’s shoulder.

“Huh? Connor?” Oliver asks, voice sleep-rough. He blinks a few times, then rubs at his eyes with the hand that had gripped the comforter. The other still sits on Connor’s shoulder even as Connor pushes himself up on his elbows to look down at Oliver’s face. “Is everything okay?”

“Marry me,” Connor says.

Oliver stills. He blinks again, slower and longer. “Am I dreaming? I’m dreaming aren’t I?””

“No.” Connor crawls up over him to kiss him on the lips. “It’s Tuesday morning. The alarm’s going to go off in three minutes. We stayed up too late last night watching Netflix, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Oliver’s eyes are wide open now. And there’s that smile again, just like at the Lowe’s, wide and toothy and breathtaking. “Connor.”

“I love you, Oliver. Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” Oliver pulls Connor down for another kiss, and, when Connor eagerly returns it, rolls him into the mattress.

They don’t make it in to work that day.

But in a few years, they get that house with a garage in the suburbs. And not long after that, they adopt some kids.

Connor’s not sure when exactly he became the luckiest guy alive. Oh, wait. Yes he does. It was when Oliver said, “I do.”

ilikeyouxactually:

UGH YES I TOTALLY SEE THIS!!!! THIS IS SO CUTE! please enjoy :3

The first time they stepped foot in Common Ground Cafe, Connor turned to Oliver with a shocked expression and promptly muttered, “Are you joking?” Oliver scoffed, rolling his eyes in response. He obviously wasn’t joking.

This place was ridiculous. Old, worn wooden floors with tacky vintage rugs covered the floors. Varying sized and styles of tables were spread out. Some with chairs, others with stools. And in the far back, there was a group of big cushioned chairs by a fireplace with a little bookshelf next to it with a sign that hung on the wall saying, “Relax and stay a while.” The walls were painted this burgundy red, black and white photography hung on the walls. And strung up from the ceiling were those lights that hung down with a small cone wrapped around the bulb. Connor snorted again.

Turning to Oliver with an incredulous look, Connor asked, “You’re actually serious about this place?” Oliver shot an unamused glare, pulling Connor inside. And while it did smell delicious, it was way too hipstery and artsy-college-student for his taste. “Who told you about this place, again?” Connor mused as Oliver pulled them up to the ordering counter.

“I told you,” Oliver began, fishing through his pocket for his wallet, “Amanda from the office.” Connor rolled his eyes at that. Of course Amanda told him about it. She was still in college. Majoring in graphic design or something like that. Figures.

Glancing up at the menu, Connor almost laughed. Because of course the menu was written out on a chalk board. Why wouldn’t it be? Although, he had to admit, the array of pastries set behind the glass display in front of them were tantalizing and made his mouth water.

“Afternoon boys, what can I get for you?” The middle-aged barista asked with a  friendly smile. 

“Hey there,” Oliver greeted with a smile of his own, scanning the menu with furrowed brows. “Uh, I’ll have a medium french vanilla latte, and a caramel latte for him–medium also, please.” Connor’s face turned beet red. Never did he think he would be getting a latte from a hipster coffee shop. And the longer he looked at the baked goods, the more he really wanted one.

“Two chocolate chip cannolis, also.” Connor chimed in, only to be met with a smug grin from Oliver. He handed the woman the amount due before pulling Connor over to a small round table by the large window to look out at the street.

“Cannolis, huh?“ Oliver mused, reaching over to grab Connor’s hands. Connor gave a sigh of defeat, glancing over at his boyfriend.

“You saw how amazing they looked, right?” he mused with a raised eyebrow. Oliver just nodded in reply, slowly stroking his thumbs over Connor’s smooth hands.

“I love you,” Oliver said suddenly, eyes fixed on their hands. Connor’s heart jumped suddenly in his chest. They hadn’t said that very much. In fact, just a few days ago was when Connor said it for the first time.

“I love you too,” Connor replied honestly, his expression softening as he stared at Oliver–who quickly met his gaze and smiled in return.

“Here we go–caramel and french vanilla lattes and two cannolis, enjoy, boys.” The barista set their drinks and cannolis down in front of them, sauntering off back to the counter as she flashed them a wink. Glancing down at his drink, Connor nearly choked when he saw a perfect little heart drawn into the foam of his latte. Eyes quickly shot up to Oliver, who was staring down at his own foam-drawn heart. Oliver squeezed Connor’s hand, smiling up at him fondly.

They ate their cannolis and drank their lattes, sharing how amazing everything was. And Connor even found himself grumbling about how they would have to come back–only to be met by a smug sneer from Oliver.

As they left the cafe hand in hand, Connor quickly pushed Oliver up against the side of the building, kissing him hard on the lips. The taste of their coffees melded and blend together. Pulling away, Oliver beamed up at Connor, kissing him again quickly. Yeah, they would definitely be going back.

ilikeyouxactually:

Some domestic/tooth-rotting fluff at tossmymagicgoldenhair‘s request :3 Enjoy!

Normally Sunday mornings are
reserved for extensive hour-long cuddling and talking in bed. Starting off the
usual lazy days with some nice breakfast in bed. Kissing through morning and
coffee breath. Laughing as they joke and mess around—sometimes even wrestling.
Although lately Oliver’s been complaining that the wrestling was hurting his
back. And okay, maybe it was starting to hurt Connor’s back, too.

Normally.

But
this wasn’t to be a normal Sunday of happiness and giddy laughter and sweet
cuddles. No nuzzling and grazing their fingers through the other’s hair, or
down their back. No making each other whimper and sigh with gentle, loving
touches. Nothing.  All because
Oliver decided to leave their blanket nest early on, abandoning Connor in the
now cold sheets.

When
no breakfast came, Connor rolled out of bed to make himself some coffee,
leaving extra in case Oliver wanted some. He walked around the house, calling
out for his husband, only to be left completely alone. Where was he?

Upon realizing Oliver was nowhere to be found, he retired to the couch with his coffee and the
newspaper, flipping through the grocery adds and saving coupons for their
favorite brand of cereal. He switched the TV on, putting on a recorded episode
of Family Feud—only half-listening but perked up every now and then to try and
guess answers to the categories.

A
while later, Oliver came strolling in through the front door hauling a bag of
potting soil through the entry way, and out the back porch. Connor glanced up
from the paper and watched him. Oliver made several more trips, carrying in
some pots, some flowers, and lastly, some vegetables. After making the last
trip, he came back in, leaning over the back of the couch to greet Connor with
a kiss to his head.

“They
had a sale at Lowes,” he stated simply as Connor gave him that look—curious with what he was doing. They had had gardens in
the past. All of which failed miserably because they didn’t take care of the
plants properly, or just got too lazy and gave up. Except for that one summer
two years ago when they decided on trying to grow green beans and ended up with
so many of the damn things, they gave them away to everyone who went to visit
them.

“So
you… decided to buy out the gardening section?” Connor mused with a grin, eyes
fixed on Oliver as he rounded the couch to sit beside him. Connor moved the
newspaper, setting it beside him to give Oliver his full attention.

“I
just really wanted to try it again. I’ve been reading up online on peak times
of the day to water, and how to keep them free of bugs… I’m practically an
expert, now!” Oliver exclaimed happily, sitting so his knees touched Connor’s.

“Ollie,
I love you, but you’ve never had a green thumb before. I just don’t want this
to end up as a fail and you feel disappointed.” A long sigh escaped Connor’s
lips, his hand resting on Oliver’s leg.

“That’s
why… I want you to help me!” Oliver
was energetic as he planted a long kiss to Connor’s cheek, leaving the other
man stunned.

“You
want me to help you garden? No way.
That is not my thing.” Reaching for
the nearest pillow, Connor grasped it and held it tight to his chest, pouting
as he refused to look Oliver in the eyes.

“Please?”
Oliver pleaded, leaning in to trail kisses over Connor’s neck, moving to the
sensitive spot behind his ear. Connor’s mouth fell open as Oliver’s lips
ghosted over the spot that never failed to make him tremble.

“Oliver,
I—“ he trailed off, never getting to finish as Oliver teased him.

“Please?”
Another kiss, making Connor shiver and lean into the kiss. “It’d make me really happy, Con…” Connor’s eyes
fluttered shut, his hold on the pillow tightening as Oliver continued to kiss
his neck and leave him a flustered mess. Just as the kisses started feeling nice,
as made evident by a soft moan escaping Connor’s lips, Oliver quickly pulled
back, sitting back on his heels and grinning ear to ear like a pleased Cheshire
cat.

“I
hate you,” Connor whined, tossing the pillow to the side, pushing off the couch
to go change into some working clothes.

“You
love me!” Oliver called back enthusiastically. They spent the rest of the
morning out in the garden, stealing loving glances and sharing giddy laughs.

ramblesandreblogs:

Oliver just cleans out a drawer in the dresser. “I went through and got rid of a lot more stuff than I thought so you can keep some stuff in here….if you want…”

Oliver tries to be nonchalant when he rearranges his closet to get more room in there for Connor’s suits and shoes and such. “I got this new closet organizer thing and look how much room I’ve got now! You know, if you ever need to hang things….”

The bookshelf. “I donated a bunch of books that were just taking up space so there’s some room for your school books. Or other books….any books really.”

“Hey, I’m going shopping after work. Want to come? I feel like cooking this week and I want to make things you like.”

“I’ve got to stay late at work the next few days for our server migration so I made up a key, if you want to hang here after class.”

Gradually, Connor becomes so used to staying at Oliver’s that the thought of going back to that cold, empty, Oliver-less apartment exhausts him. And, on one Sunday afternoon, Connor hesitates at Oliver’s front door. He needs to go back home to his apartment. He’s out of everything and needs to do laundry and there are some books he needs for a paper that he left over there but still he hesitates. “I don’t want to go,” he whispers.

Oliver looks up from reading out the couch. He couldn’t have heard that right. “What?”

“I don’t want to go,” Connor says, louder this time. “I don’t–I don’t want to go back there. I want–I want to stay.” He looks up to watch Oliver walk over from the living room. “I want to stay here.”

“Then stay,” Oliver states and holds out a hand. “Just stay.”

“I can’t–” Connor drags a hand through his hair. “I don’t have anything to wear tomorrow. I need my notes from last semester. I–I have to–”

Oliver looks down to their hands. He licks his lips and his tone is cautious. “We could go get your stuff. And then you wouldn’t have to go.” He looks up to meet Connor’s gaze. “You could stay. You could always stay.”

Moving over the last Connor’s stuff takes two trips, most of it had already made it over in small bits and his apartment came furnished so he doesn’t have to worry about any of the really big stuff. They spend the early evening rearranging some things to make room and making a list of things they need to pick up (another bookshelf, more closet organizers, some storage boxes for seasonal clothes). 

That night, they settle in for their first night of officially living together. Connor waits until he’s sure Oliver’s asleep before whispering. “I’m glad I stayed.”

Oliver pulls him in closer. “I’m glad you stayed too.”

monicashipscoliver:

Connor and Oliver walking down the sidewalk. It’s cold and Oliver is three inches away – three inches too many. Connor wants to cling to him for warmth but he doesn’t want to come off as too desperate.

He’s usually the cool one. The suave one. He doesn’t need to always be touching Oliver. It’s fine. It’s cool. Cold, actually. Very cold.

He shivers and Oliver glances at him. Oliver, with his thick wool peacoat and his ugly-yet-still-attractive-on-Oliver knitted hat. Oliver, warm and toasty and attractive and –

“Are you alright?” Oliver asks.

Connor shrugs. “Fine,” he lies.

Oliver narrows his gaze. “No, you’re shivering and glaring at me.”

“Was not.”

“Connor.”

“Okay, maybe I was. On both counts. But it’s not you.”

Oliver lifts a brow and stares at Connor with a look that somehow merges annoyed and fond, and Connor really just wants to glue himself to Oliver’s side already.

“Would you…” Connor coughs. He doesn’t know how to ask for affection. This whole relationship thing is still pretty fresh. He wants to try though, for Oliver. For himself. “If I wanted to…?”

“Connor?”

Just blurt it out. “Will you put your arm around me?” he asks hurriedly and drops his gaze to the sidewalk. His cheeks burn. What a stupid thing to ask. How do couples in those silly romcoms make this stuff look so easy?

But then Oliver drapes an arm on Connor’s shoulders and pulls him closer, right into the warmth of his side, and Connor positively melts. Oliver holds him close and kisses his cheek. Connor wraps an arm around Oliver’s waist and keeps him there.

“Like this?” Oliver asks.

Connor nods, not trusting his voice. This is good. It’s perfect, actually.

“Thank you,” he whispers and Oliver kisses him again.

wordsputtopaper:

wordsputtopaper:

Okay, so work got crazy this week, so much so that it actually stretched into the weekend. That being said, Robyn did send me a link to this post and, well, I took a few minutes of my time to send her a small little thing, completely unedited (so there may be some mistakes there, sorry! No time to fix it!), but I thought I’d share it with you guys too. The weird format is due to the fact that I wrote this in an email. Sorry it’s weird and silly and I totally overplayed Michaela’s anger. Shh.

“5. I’m in art class and I just opened a cupboard to find a tiny person (you) squished inside and you just looked at and said “shh i’m hiding”.”

Imagine that instead of a cupboard, Connor was hiding in a broom closet and Oliver saw him go in.

He’d lean on the wall next to the door and ask, “What are you doing?”

“I’m hiding from Michaela, shh,” would come Connor’s muffled voice from the other side.

Oliver would sigh and cross his arms, leaning more heavily against the wall.
“What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Connor would exclaim in a slightly high pitched voice. “I swear I have no idea what I did wrong. That girl is crazy!”

“Then why are you hiding?”

“Have you seen what she can do when she’s angry?” would come the scared voice from inside the closet. “Until I can get out of here safely and defend myself against whatever she thinks I did to offend her, I’d appreciate it if you could walk away and stop blowing my cover.”

“Connor, half the people in this hallway saw you run into that room. You weren’t exactly subtle,” Oliver would comment. He’d then nod at a couple of guys from their class, frowning at him and then at the closed door beside him.

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