Author’s note: Thisembarrassmentficlet was inspired by this post.Author’s note part 2: Thanks to dreamsammy who said that I should write something to expand on the tags I left on the post (which can be found here if you want to see where thismonstrositycame from).Author’s note numero tres: I would also be remiss in not thanking the following lovely, lovely people: techieoliver, shlockpowpow, falaheejackoff, thememorieswedontwant, and (obvi) dreamsammy. I was having some trouble starting this thing and they all were very helpful. (Basically I didn’t know where Connor would have gotten the eyes and they all were so nice to remind me that Connor’s sister has kids. In all the Coliver goodness that was 1×11 I forgot that. Oops. I am officially the worst fan ever.)Author’s note #4: I can’t believe I’m actually posting this…..don’t judge too harshly….Connor snorts as he unpacks his suitcase. When did those little monsters have an opportunity to sneak those in?
“What’s so funny?” Oliver asks and Connor glances up. He smiles self-satisfactorily at his boyfriend lounging lazily against the headboard. Oliver’s got a soft smile plastered across his face, his hair’s a mess, and there is a faint mark Connor sucked along his collarbone that Oliver’s absentmindedly running his thumb over. God. Reunion sex is the best. “You were smiling,” Oliver reminds him, pulling Connor back to the present. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh. Nothing.” He tosses the small package over near Oliver’s elbow. “Just these.”
“Googly eyes?” Oliver picks up the package and gives Connor a confused glance. “I’m missing the joke.”
Tag: to read
pwp/kink prompt: oliver ties Connors hands above his head and fucks himself on Connors dick. it’s just about the hottest thing that has ever happened to Connor.
I almost caught fire when I found this in my ask.
”He’s angry,” Connor thinks when he sees Oliver come in and set his bag beside the door. Every motion is deliberate and there’s that closed off
expression that Connor has hated since the first time he saw
it. Oliver is so easy to read on most days that when he suddenly isn’t –
it’s hard to understand what to do for him. Connor is contemplating
getting off of the couch, files spread all around him, when Oliver holds
up a hand. “Stay right there, Walsh.”Walsh? There’s a flare of heat in the pit of Connor’s stomach that he
tries to ignore. He watches Oliver strip away his outerwear and suit
jacket with growing confusion. Suddenly Oliver is right there, and
Connor gets hauled up by his collar with strength that always shocks
him. Chapped lips crash over his mouth and a tongue claims through it.
When they break apart Connor is panting, eyes black when he reaches up a
shaking hand to rid Oliver of his glasses.
It should be easy to move on. Connor is a liar. A cheat. An accomplice to murder.
But nothing about Connor has ever been easy.
Oliver doesn’t sleep more than a few hours here and there. Instead, he paces his living room in the dark, all thoughts on Connor. Connor in his kitchen, helping with the dishes. Connor on his couch, regifting him a ridiculous hat. Connor in his doorway, begging for a second chance. Connor in his bed, promising him the whole world with his body.
Oliver pushes his hands through his hair. He doesn’t want to think about Connor’s smile, or Connor’s laugh, or the way Connor’s grip felt on his shoulders as he pulled Oliver close enough to kiss.
“I care about you!” Connor shouted the last time they spoke.
“You lied to me,” Oliver replied, just as loud. “You lied to me about everything.”
"I’m not lying about this.”
Oliver shook his head. He shoved Connor to the door. It wasn’t the first time they’d done this, but Oliver was determined to make it the last. He wouldn’t be made a fool of again.
“Oliver, please.”
“You aren’t the man I thought you were.”
Connor gripped his arms. Tears in his eyes, he begged, broken, “But I love you.”
Maybe he was telling the truth. Or maybe he was just desperate. Oliver could never tell Connor’s truth’s from his half-truth’s from his lies.
But he knew he himself was lying when he said, “Well, I don’t love you,” and closed the door on Connor’s face.
Malec AU – First Meeting #1 ‘Hug’
I always think about how in an AU Alec and Magnus could meet for the first time and I always try to find completely new ways. Now I decided to them with you … one by one. 😀
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Magnus didn’t know what he had expected when he’d opened the door of his apartment around 10pm, but among all the possibilities he thought of, the young man leaning against the doorframe hadn’t been one of them.
He had closed his eyes and looked very exhausted. His hair was a pure mess, which could probably blamed on the wind howling outside, and his pale cheeks were painted with that kind of rosy color that only cold weather managed to get done like that. Apart from that Magnus was surprised that even with leaning on the doorframe the young man was almost as tall as himself, dressed completely in black with the silver rings on his right ear being the only exception. Around the man’s shoulder was slung a messenger bag … a black one with an assembly of several buttons, but Magnus didn’t take the time to read them. His concern that the young man might pass out any second overruled his curiosity.
“Uh, can I help you?”, Magnus cautiously asked. He was concerned, yes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t ready to slam his door shut again the moment the other guy turned out to be dangerous.
One eye was cracked open. It looked like it took a lot of energy to just do that. But when the stranger noticed that the question was directed to him, he almost clumsily detached himself from the doorframe and opened the other eye as well. They were blue and the man was actually quite handsome. He ran one hand across his face and through his hair, messing it up even more when Magnus hadn’t thought it to be possible.
“Uh, maybe?”, the young man muttered, “I … kind of had a pretty shitty day today, but I somehow survived it – first day at a new job, never fun – and I just noticed that I forgot my keys and my phone died about an hour ago and my roommate is out … somewhere. But as we haven’t yet put that clichéd spare key under the doormat, I wanted to ask if I could use your phone …” It seemed like he had wanted to say more, but had ran out of energy, his hands extended in a way like he was about to turn towards the ceiling and ask ‘Why, God, why?’.
Magnus, never the shy one, simply grabbed one hand and shook it with a bright smile. “Nice to meet you, too, I’m Magnus.”
The stranger seemed to snap out of his momentary trance, like he was shaken awake by the touch of Magnus’ hand.
“Oh, right, I’m sorry, I’m Alec … Lightwood … I moved in about a week ago … on the second, no third floor, staircase, uh, there.” He awkwardly pointed at the ceiling to his right. Magnus suspected he meant one of the apartments on the next floor.
“Nice to meet you, Alec."
Alec smiled at that and it was a smile full of warmth, and thankfulness, and this kind of exhausted joy that made you want to cry … happy tears.
"Can I use your phone?”, Alec asked, still holding onto Magnus’ hand like a lifeline. His eyes big and blue and almost sparkling in the dim light of the staircase. “And can I maybe have a hug? I would take that, too.”
Taken aback at the unusual request, Magnus stared at the slightly shorter male for a while, but then decided that there as no harm in spreading a little warmth. He grinned at Alec. “Sure thing”, he said, “you can use my phone and you can get that hug, too.”
As if he could have said anything else. This guy was like a lost puppy with big, blue eyes. Or a lost kitten. Whatever … he was damn cute and looked like he could really use a hug or just some comfort in general.
Magnus spread his arms and pulled Alec into a nice, long hug … and he was hugged back. The other’s arms closed behind his back and Alec hid his face in the crook of Magnus’ neck.
A few seconds passed.
“You smell very nice”, Alec mumbled.
“Well, thank you very much, you’re quite cold. You must be freezing.”
“I’m fine … beginning to feel my toes again.”
Magnus couldn’t do anything against the smile stretching across his face.
–
The next day, the very same neighbor stood once again in front of Magnus’ apartment. Mortified at what he had done the last night, blushing beet red from his neck to the top of his ears. Magnus just hugged him again while Alec buried his face in his hands muttering how sorry he was.
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I thought I’d write something short … I failed. But I like it anyway. :3 So, if anybody wants to continue this, feel free to do so – just let me know when you post it wherever that might be because I’d like to read it. 😀
What about some cute awkward extra-fluffy high school coliver? 😊😊
It’s not really awkward (sorry!) but I did turn the fluff up to dangerous levels. ❤
When he asked, Connor knows he should have been more clear.
“So, Oliver, you want to go to Prom with me?” Connor had assumed the as my date was implied but apparently not. Apparently some things needed to be spelled out for certain nerds who could, you know, hack into NATO or whatever but couldn’t tell when someone was asking them to Prom.
“Sure,” Oliver had replied at the time with that adorable shy grin that Connor loved. “Michaela and Laurel were talking at lunch about going together as friends. We can all go together. Get a limo and stuff. It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah,” had been Connor’s weak reply. “That sounds awesome.”
No, that sounded terrible. Connor didn’t want to go to prom as a loser foursome with Michaela and Laurel. Connor wanted to go with Oliver. Connor wanted to borrow his dad’s car and pick Oliver up and give Oliver a corsage and pose for terrible pictures with Oliver under a tree in the backyard while both of their moms did their utmost to embarrass them and snap a million awful pictures that would be trotted out years later at their wedding. Then, with the picture fiasco a distant memory, Connor wanted to walk into the prom holding Oliver’s hand and dance every dance with Oliver and then make out a little (okay a lot) in the parking lot of Steak ‘n’ Shake after bailing on post-prom parties to split cheese fries instead.
That is what Connor wanted Senior Prom to be.
begin again || coliver fic
prompt: blind date…with a former hookup
word count: 1739It’s a perfect spring day. All traces of winter are gone leaving sunny blue skies and warm weather throughout the city. It’s a time of fresh starts, new beginnings. And according to Michaela Pratt, it means getting Connor to try something different— namely the prospect of settling down.
“Tell me again about this guy. Alvin? Albert?” Connor says, taking a bite of his steak as he sits with Michaela for lunch.
“It’s Oliver,” she all but hisses, texting away on her phone.
“Oops, my bad. I should probably remember that one, huh?”
Michaela glares at him, her lips pursed into a fine line.
Connor holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Easy there. Oliver. I’ve got it. Now, tell me more about him.”
“I don’t want to give away too much. That’s the whole point of it being a blind date.”
Connor resists the urge to gag at the word ‘date’, if only to spare himself yet another scolding from Michaela.
“You’ve gotta give me something to work with here,” he says, catching the attention of a guy a few feet away. He looks him over, pleased with what he sees. He’s only vaguely aware of Michaela speaking across from him.
“We’ve been through this before, Connor,” she reprimands. It takes a loud snap of her fingers to pull his attention back to her. The look he’s met with is positively murderous. “What do you think you’re doing? You have a date tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow is not today. Why can’t I have a little appetizer before dinner?” he asks slyly.
Connor wraps his arms around Oliver’s waist and buries his nose in Oliver’s neck.
“I won’t let them find you,” Connor whispers, voice muffled by Oliver’s shoulder. “I’ll protect you.”
Oliver combs one hand through Connor’s hair. The other stays firm on his shoulder. “And who is going to protect you?”
Connor shakes his head. His hands shake, too, so he grips the back of Oliver’s shirt. “I won’t let you get involved.”
“I’m already involved.”
“I’ll keep you safe,” Connor says. “I’ll find a way.”
Oliver drops his hand to Connor’s cheek and gently pushes him away, enough to hold his gaze. “You don’t have to do this alone, anymore.”
“Oliver?”
“We’re in this together.” Oliver leans in and kisses Connor once, sweetly, chaste. “We’ll protect each other.” Another kiss, to the tip of his nose. “Okay?”
Connor pulls Oliver back to him, satisfied only when he’s warm and solid in his arms, ever Connor’s anchor in the storm. “Okay.”
Hello!! I’m your prompter for Coliver’s Valentine and I was asked to give you something weird, so here it goes: “First of all, I was not trying to kill you.” Connor and Oliver meet when Connor accidentally almost stabs Oliver with a cutlery knife, and things only get wilder after that. Um I hope the prompt doesn’t suck too much, and please let me know if you received this :) Have a great day <3
Thanks for the awesome prompt bb!! The fic can also be read HERE! And I really like the muse/ideas I had from this prompt so if anyone would like to see it become a verse, let me know!
“This is the kitchen.” Annalise Keating held out a hand, presenting the place proudly. There were multiple ovens, a farmhouse sink, and a huge walk-in freezer. It was definitely far more intimidating than the cozy backroom Oliver was used to. The new-hire listened intently, trailing behind her as she continued the tour. “Of course. Your only real priority is this area. Keep it clean and functioning. It cost me a fair amount of money, especially after the Rudy Incident.”
The Rudy Incident?
(based on this post)
Oliver knows every time he goes into Starbucks that the person behind the counter probably isn’t his soulmate. But with the words written in messy script across his arm, “Welcome to Starbucks. May I take your order?” he can’t help but hope that maybe – just maybe – this time will be the right time.
In his twenties, he goes to Starbucks much more often than he should, until he meets everyone on the payroll. Then he finds a new store, new faces, new friends, but never the one.
By thirty, he’s tired of the disappointment, the heartache, and the heartburn. He switches to decaf, and only goes into Starbucks every other Monday.
* * *
The man behind the counter has a kind smile and massive biceps.
“Just because you like me doesn’t mean the feeling is mutual.” & coliver
Connor falters at Oliver’s words, another piercing stab into his already aching heart. He feels about ready to rattle out of his skin after dodging the police for days about the discovery of Sam’s body and now Oliver is just…
“But I thought we were-”
“Yeah, yeah, taking it slow,” Oliver says, his voice distant, almost cold, “but you don’t really want a relationship, do you?”
Connor looks away, inhaling deeply through his nose in an attempt to temper the tears he can feel brimming to the surface again. His emotions are completely out of control at the moment, his erratic moods enhanced by constant worrying.
“You’re the only person I trust, Oliver,” he whispers, straining around the pain in his throat. “You’re the only person I… I want to be around…”
“But you still won’t attend Narco meetings? You still won’t tell me what drugs you’re taking?” Oliver folds his arms over his chest and Connor realises what this is really about. His dishonesty about being high is going to be an ongoing issue and he can’t back-pedal now. He can’t tell the truth and covering the lie with more lies is just going to build an increasingly chaotic mess between them.
“Please, Oliver,” he begs, an unbidden tear spilling down his cheek. “You don’t understand…”
Oliver stares at him, his expression so unforgiving that Connor wonders what’s happened, what’s changed. He’s been so careful not to put a toe out of line for weeks and now Oliver’s freezing him out.
“What do you want me to say? I’ll come to meetings?” he says, hands waving wildly around him. “Fine! But what I take is my business and-”
”Your business? You put your life at risk and expect me to-“
“Support me and allow me some courtesy in handling it privately,” Connor interrupts over the top of Oliver’s voice. Mostly he just needed more time to figure out which drugs he was ‘most likely’ to take so it sounded convincing to Oliver. “Please, Oliver. I’m scared to do this without you.”
A muscle in Oliver’s cheek twitches and he can see some of the ice in Oliver’s expression melting. Connor thinks the tears streaking down his cheeks are probably doing a great job of helping – although they’re 100% real because he can feel himself slipping away from Oliver, confused by his distance and hurting without his affection.
“I’m scared I’m going to lose you,” Oliver admits, finally deflating and resting his hands on his hips. “I’m scared I’m just going to get a call that you’re in the hospital and-”
“Ollie…” There’s no way he can offer comforting words and explanations and reassurances for something he doesn’t even do, but he knows he has to keep up the front. He approaches Oliver slowly until he can sink into the other man’s familiar embrace. “I’ll be okay. I know it doesn’t sound like enough but…I will be.”
Oliver’s face nuzzled against his shoulder and neck, his fingers curling into Connor’s shirt against his shoulder blades. “You’re not the only one who’s scared,” Oliver mumbles against his skin.
Connor feels the guilt gnaw deeper in his belly as he grips Oliver tighter.
lanablack 