#so they look around and find out connor played drums a little bit

[connorxrose]

Welcome to Aurora Bay, [CONNOR ROSE]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [ANDREW GARFIELD]. You must be the [THIRTY-SIX] year old [TATTOO ARTIST AT CRESCENT MOON TATTOO SHOP]. Word is you’re [COMPASSIONATE] but can also be a bit [GRUMPY] and your favorite song is [YOU’RE GONNA GO FAR, KID BY THE OFFSPRING]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [OCEAN CREST APARTMENTS]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

LINKS

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wanted connections

playlist

pinterest

ABOUT CONNOR

sexuality:

heterosexual

astrology:

sagittarius ☀, aquarius ☾, scorpio ↑

traits:

grumpy, blunt, anxious, upbeat, loyal, compassionate, contradicting, easily-irritated, hopeless romantic (mostly hopeless), sarcastic, pretentious, wise, passionate, destructive, open-minded 

aesthetic:

beanies, rooftop talks, halloween forever, cigarette ash, hidden knitting needles, too honest, bike rides, police’s backseat, compassion, responsibly irresponsible, buzz of a tattoo gun, stubborn heart, holes in shoes, undefined, out of step in line, too many tattoos, your best friend or worst enemy.

BIOGRAPHY

[ tw: abandonment, police, anxiety ]

Home was just a word Connor Rose never fully understood. Was it a person, a place, or a just feeling you’ll never get back? He never knew. Born and raised in the Aurora Bay area in California, Connor was your typical troubled kid growing up in the system. He spent most of his time in group homes in the area and got in trouble just as often as he could. The police officers in the neighborhood all knew him by name, and though he charmed his way out of real trouble most days, he was known as the kid who went around tagging buildings. Art was an outlet for him, and of course it was more fun to utilize those skills in an illegal manner.

Connor struggled not having a family of his own, especially with how often the kids around him came and went. He picked up hobbies throughout his younger years to keep his emotions at bay. Between doodling in composition books, playing the drums, and even… knitting, he kept himself distracted most days. But that need to find his family was still always there. When he was seventeen years old, he used the savings he had built up to find his birth mother. Connor snuck away from the group home and managed to get him all the way to New York City where he would finally meet his mother - Marie Rose. He built up an idea in his head of how it would go down and what her reaction would be, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. Instead of accepting him, telling him how much of a mistake it was to give him up, she wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, she was distraught and nearly offended he tracked her down. She turned him away and left Connor to finally truly realize that he was alone. There was no such thing as home.

There was a light of hope that went out that day within Connor. He grew a bit colder, a little more pessimistic than usual. He hit the drums harder and lived without a path. Once he graduated from high school, by pure miracle, he took up a job at a tattoo shop. In the beginning, he was just the receptionist. It was enough to get him by as he found himself living at an old three-story home that was converted into a small apartment complex for only a few tenants. The people who lived there became his small little family, the closest thing to home he ever had. Connor found himself struggling to connect deeply with others, that fear of abandonment always there in the back of his head. His own struggles with anxiety didn’t help the case, either. His anxiety grew so complex throughout the years that even driving a car felt too much to handle. Connor rode his bike everywhere around the city and also relied on the bus. The only solace he had was the family he built, tattooing, and playing music.

Now in his thirties, Connor still struggles but hides it well. He moved away from the little apartment he once had and now works full time at Crescent Moon Tattoo as a tattoo artist. People enjoy his company, even with his grumpy demeanor. He has a careless attitude, though he cares a little too much on the inside. When life is too much to handle, Connor normally retreats to his new apartment and secretly continues to knit (though he’ll deny it always). Though he may be a music and film snob at times, his caring heart comes out whenever he volunteers at the group homes he grew up in. If he had the money, he would’ve gone to school to be a social worker so he could take care of kids like him. He makes up for that by spending most weekends hanging out and mentoring troubled teenagers that remind him of himself. Connor also is the drummer of a local indie band that he created with a good friend. They have no intention of ‘making it big’ and prefer to play smaller shows whenever time allows. Connor focuses on all these things that make him happy - art, music, and helping the youth. If he didn’t, he’d be too lost wondering what the hell his purpose was and why nothing ever felt like home.

HEADCANONS

Connor plays the drums in a local indie band called “swell.” with Chey Johnson. Playlist can be found here. He also occasionally plays drums for a number of different bands who need a drummer.

Connor was originally in a band called “Submergence” before “swell.” He left the band at the height of the lead singer’s substance abuse issues. The band has since grown in success and he can’t help but be a little bitter towards it all.

He knits a lot in his free time and treats it as if it’s a deep dark secret.

The man sabotages most relationships he has simply because he has a fear of abandonment. He pushes someone before they can push him.

He is a Halloween and horror movie FANATIC. October is his favorite month and he treats Halloween how most people treat Christmas.

Connor has a lot of tattoos, most are traditional style tattoos showing his favorite horror movies - scream, the shining, and some others.

He’s been called an ‘emo hipster’ and an 'emo indie’ before, which he denies… but it kind of sums him up. Half of his music has some older emo vibes to it, and the other half is indie music. He’s the type to freak out because you never heard of a band, even if the band is a local indie band that barely anyone knows. He’s somewhat of a music snob. Forgive him. He also dresses pretty “indie” but a more laid back version.

He’s really into film (not just horror movies). He loves Wes Anderson movies and anything by Taika Waititi and David Lynch. One of his bandmates is a filmmaker and he often dips his toes into that world with her.

Connor was influenced at a young age by the women around him. He’s a pretty big feminist and not afraid to stick up for things he believes in. Due to the culture he was raised in, he’s extremely accepting of all people. It’s probably his biggest redeeming trait.

Connor often has this 'fuck everything’ attitude, yet cares deeply. He bounces from being grumpy to being the life of the party. There’s no way to pin down his personality completely.

Having a cigarette late at night with someone and talking about life is probably one of his favorite things in the world.

to be added….

#i was editing my old pinned post and fucked it all up somehow kjdgndgkj #pls ignore this #i was inspired by everyone's pretty character pics and had to jump ship ok

[fragranceofdarkness]

okay but like..... deh band au.....

#yes this is because connor murphy / otto wood lives in my head rent free #but like jared forcing evan into his band' and evan hating it at first but realizing that he really loves it because it helps him focus #and then jared signing them up for like a battle of the bands and evans like dude what the fuck we dont even have a drummer #so they look around and find out connor played drums a little bit #and then they basically pull a lemonade mouth #anyways if i can make it to like graduation without dying i will write this i promise #and if not and anyone wants this idea PLEASE tell me and show me #i will marry you on the spot #kel speaks #dont rb

[nothing-but-dreamy]

GLANCES

Pairing: DBH!Connor x OC!Character

Words: 1.458

Warnings: none; maybe some wet Connor like this

Summary: Three times, Nora catches a glimpse of Connor showing off some skin...

...and one time, it's the other way round.

Detroit was known for its rainfall. Sometimes, it could rain for days with no end. If someone would look closely, they might even spot Noah somewhere who tried to build a new ark.

Usually, Nora liked when it was raining: the smell of wet grass, the refreshing air and the relaxing, drumming sound against the windows.

Usually...

...but not this time. For three days, it was raining and then, the worst happened: water-pipe burst in her apartment.

While workmen were busy repairing Nora’s home, she had to find shelter somewhere else. Luckily, Connor, one of her friends, was running to her help. After the revolution, he had found a cute apartment in the heart of Detroit. And because he was an android who didn’t need to sleep, he offered her the bedroom more than happily. Nora accepted immediately. She liked the android and had fallen for him and his gentleman charme.

As she opened the door of the apartment with the spare key, she noticed that Connor must be at home but she couldn’t spot him. Nora dropped her bag on the floor by the kitchen counter. A vase with fresh flowers stood there to greet her. Next to the vase laid a piece of paper:

Welcome home. Make yourself comfortable, Connor

Nora smiled about this small note and felt welcomed immediately. The crush, she had on the android, was giving her dancing butterflies and a huge smile on her lips as she read his words in the neat handwriting.

She took her bag and walked to the bedroom she would occupy the next five or six days. On her way, Nora already heard sounds of running water coming from the bathroom. The water got turned off and Nora looked curious into the room.

Connor stood in front of the shower just dressed in a towel around his hips. Small droplets of water were running slowly over his back down his spine. As he was turning around, Nora could catch a glance of his bare chest which was sparkling wet. Just before he could notice her, Nora turned around with a racing heart and vanished into the bedroom.

Maybe, she should ask herself: "Why was Connor showering?" or: "Do androids have to shower, anyway?". But instead, Nora had just one question in her mind: "Why was Connor so damn hot?" Whatever the answer was, Nora hoped Conner hadn't seen her staring at him.

But Connor had seen her. And not just how she had ran away but also how her bright eyes had been glued at him. Before she had disappeared, Connor had seen her cheeks blushing in a soft pink. He smiled to himself. He was pleased to have such an effect on her. Obviously, he had understood the signs she gave him right.

*

Two days later, after work, Nora got back to Connor’s apartment. It had been a busy day and she was tired. The only thing she dreamt of was food and to sleep. With the headphones still on her ears, she walked through the apartment, not paying much attention to her surroundings. As she walked to her room, the door of the bathroom opened and Connor stepped out. Nora wasn’t fast enough and so, she crashed into him.

Connor grabbed her shoulders to prevent her from falling. As she opened her eyes, she looked straight into his brown eyes. A soft smile was playing on his lips. Nora removed her headphones and only then, she noticed that Connor was just dressed in a towel wound around his hips like the other day. Her small hands were lying softly on his bare chest and she felt him slowly breathing underneath her fingertips. From the ends of his brown strands were still a few droplets of water falling on his smooth skin, sparkling like small diamonds in the dim light coming from the bathroom.

One droplet rolled down his temple along his sharp jawline. With her eyes, Nora followed its slow way over his neck, down his collarbone and to his chest. She swallowed thickly as she noticed that she was staring at his naked body.

“Oh, h-hey… Connor.”, Nora whispered shakily. She felt her cheeks reddening under his intense glance and the lopsided smirk that appeared on his lips.

“Good evening, Nora. Welcome back home.”, Connor said with his honey-like voice which shot shivers down her spine. “I hope you’re hungry. I ordered pizza for you.”

“Y-yeah… sounds good. I just have to.. yeah.. uhm… excuse me…”, Nora stammered, stepped around Connor and disappeared in the bedroom. She leant against the closed door with a hammering heart.

*

Nora had to leave early the next morning and she wasn’t surprised to find Connor awake. Soft ambient music played in the living room. Nora was still half asleep as she walked through the apartment.

“Good morning, Nora. Have you slept, well?”, Connor asked softly and watched amused how Nora jumped a little by surprise.

Nora turned over to the direction of the voice, smiled but her face changed into staring. This time, Connor was dressed... partially. He wore his typical dark jeans and the white suit shirt but … it was completely unbuttoned. The open parts were slightly waving, revealing more of his perfect body, as he walked over to her with a smirk on his lips. “Nora?”

Nora’s eyes switched from his bare chest up to his eyes. “What? Oh, uhm… yeah. Yeah, I have slept well. T-thanks.”, Nora whispered shakily.

Connor saw her cheeks blushing beautifully as he had caught her glance. The way she was staring at him, with this hungry but also timid glance, shot adrenaline through his synthetic veins. "I wish you a great day." Connor whispered low. With the back of his hand, he stroked carefully over her cheek before he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. "See you tonight."

"Y-yeah… ha-have a nice day, as well.", Nora said and had difficulties getting her pulse under control. She had to force herself to leave the spot in front of Connor. As she reached the door, Nora turned around one last time. Connor winked at her which caused her racing heart to skip a beat.

*

Nora was looking forward to taking a shower after her way home through the rain. Once again, it had started to pour and she was soaked to the bones. Even a thunderstorm was rumbling through the air. A hot shower would fix her mood. As she opened the door, the apartment was empty. So, she was safe for any new encounter with a half naked Connor. Just the thought of it made her nervous...in a good way. The whole day, she was barely able to think about something else than Connor and his perfect chiseled, muscled chest.

Maybe he did it with purpose? Was it his plan that I would run into him all the time?, Nora asked herself while she was shampooing her hair. Nora was deep in her thoughts as she flung her towel around herself to go back into the bedroom. She walked to the room and bumped into something solid. Once again, Nora crashed into Connor who just came from the bedroom.

He caught her easily before she could fall. Because of this, her towel was sliding down a little bit more but Nora was able to catch it before something could get revealed. Connor had noticed it but tried to draw his glance away from her perfect curves.

Nora looked up into Connor's face that was just inches away. A lightning illuminated their faces. The pale light was collecting in his golden-shimmering eyes. Nora's eyes flickered down to his lips before she gnawed on her own.

"I was looking for you.", Connor whispered deeply.

"Why?", Nora whispered. Her heartbeat quickened under his intense glance.

"I wanted to ask you something.", he answered. Watching every move of her very closely. He noticed her increasing pulse. To register what kind of effect he had on her let him smirk.

"W-what is it?", Nora asked breathy. His hands on her bare shoulders were burning on her skin but she loved the feeling already and wanted more.

"Would you like to go out with me? Tonight?", Connor asked hopefully.

"You want to go out? With me?"

"Yes-"

"I would love to!", Nora called out, filled with new energy.

Connor chuckled about her cuteness. "Just one thing…", he said and leant down to her ear what let her shudder, "It’s not that I wouldn’t enjoy this view of you but ... maybe you should dress yourself first.", he whispered with his lips on her ear.

"Right… Good idea. Give me ten minutes.", Nora said smirking, with a nod before she ran into the bedroom.

#dbh connor #dbh #connor dbh #dbh connor x reader #dbh fanfic #detroit connor #detroit become human connor #detroit become human #detroit become human aesthetic #connor #dbh connor fluff #connor rk800 #dbh rk800 #detroit rk800 #rk800 x reader #detroit become human rk800 #rk800 #rk800connor #fanfiction #writing

[wolveria]

Unable to perceive the shape of you - Ch. 6

Pairing: Connor x f!Reader x Nines

Summary: After breaking the RK twins out of the MarineLife facility, you were determined to return them to the ocean before getting caught by your employer.

What you hadn’t counted on were the brothers deciding you belonged to them.

Prompt: Mermay! (Shape of Water/Splash AU)

Word Count: 2.9k

AO3

When Nines offered to drive, you tried to say no. There was no way he knew how to drive, but he insisted he was a fast learner, and you were barely able to stand.

Connor had explained the reason why with his cheeks tinged an adorable blue. Something about ceta semen having a ‘sedative’ effect on humans. Your response was to give him a goofy smile and tell him that meant you were ‘drugged on his cum.’

His face had gone an impressive shade of blue as he’d led you out to the car.

It turned out Nines was a decent driver, or seemed to be from your limited view of the backseat, your head resting in Connor’s lap. He hadn’t exaggerated about the strange aftereffects, though in all honesty, you didn’t mind. Connor’s fingers trailed lightly across your hair, fingertips rubbing your scalp, you thought you might have died and gone to heaven. Even the pain in your legs was unnoticeable, something you hadn’t experienced in years.

You were going to joke if ceta semen had magical healing properties but you fell asleep before you could, and by the time you woke up, you were sober and aching again. Not a magic cure-all then, but a temporary, effective distraction.

It would have been scientifically interesting if you hadn’t been so shocked at your own behavior. You’d had sex with, not one, but both of them. You hadn’t planned for it to happen, and now that it had, your stomach churned terribly with nerves.

As if that wasn’t complicated enough, you had the two bite marks on your shoulders that meant something very specific to ceta behavior. Were they aware of what the marks meant? They’d bandaged your shoulders with the supplies meant for them, and apart from apologizing for biting you (“I don’t know why I did it,” Connor had said, brows furrowed), they hadn’t said anything else about it.

They couldn’t possibly know. According to the records, they’d been wild-caught very young and hadn’t been old enough to be taught by other wild cetas. It had just been instinct, nothing more. You weren’t going to tell them that cetas only bit during sex to mark their chosen, lifelong mate.

What would be the point in telling them, anyway? It wasn’t like you were a viable mate to begin with. Plus, you would reach the coast by the end of the day, and they would be gone from your life forever. Leaving you only twin scars to remember them by.

You buried your face against Connor’s thigh, wishing you were drugged or high or whatever. The biologist in you wondered why their semen even had that affect. Was it simply a mismatch of biology? Or was it a way to actually lure and capture their prey, like a spider with a web.

If so, you were a thoroughly captivated fly. Connor’s fingers had started moving in your hair again, and your eyes were already half-closed as you fought to stay awake.

You couldn’t stay in Connor’s lap forever, unfortunately. Rubbing your eyes, you pulled yourself into a sitting position, wincing at the sharp pain in your spine from the awkward position.

“What do you guys want for lunch?” You stretched and cracked your back, wincing as you you stared out the window at the slanted sunlight. You frowned. “Or… dinner. How long did I sleep?”

“A few hours,” Connor said, tilting his head. “You seemed tired and we didn’t want to wake you.”

“Oh.” Your cheeks warmed uncomfortably. You were supposed to be taking care of them, not the other way around. “We can stop for something to eat then—“

“We can’t stop.”

Nines voice cut through yours, short and tense in a way that was unlike him. When your looked at him, you realized the tablet attached to the dashboard was on, muted but on a 24-hour news channel.

“What?” you asked. “Why not?”

“Show her.”

Connor leaned forward and tapped his finger on the screen. You’d forgotten he said something about stealing smartphones belonging to the techs to use them, and he definitely seemed comfortable using technology.

He sat back but stayed close, his knee pressed against yours. The news segment played, unmuted now.

“Today in what can only be described as an egregious theft, two Ceta sapiens were stolen from the research facility known as MarineLife. It’s suspected that this woman, an employer of the company, is responsible for the missing creatures.”

You stared at the blond newscaster as she read your name aloud, and when they showed your employee pictures on the screen, the car slightly spun around you.

“If you have any information of the whereabouts of this woman, contact the proper authorities immediately. Do not approach the suspect as these animals are dangerous and highly aggressive.”

“They know what my car looks like,” you said once the news clip ended. “The police will have my registration. We have to ditch the car. Find a new one. Steal one, or, or something.”

Connor said your name, but you barely heard it.

“I should have thought of this. I should have anticipated—“

“It won’t be a problem for now,” Nines said, effectively cutting you off again. “I have been using your GPS to keep us on rural farm roads. No one should stop us.”

“What if they do?” you asked faintly. You didn’t miss the way Nines gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“We will make it to our destination. I won’t allow anyone to get in our way.”

You shivered and wrapped your arms in front of your stomach. The warmth of Connor beside you wasn’t enough to ward off the cold feeling of dread tucked along your spine.

Since going into cities with your car and showing your face was out of the question, so was NYC. You’d planned to drive them to the beaches and let them go there, directly into the ocean. Now having to evade authorities, Nines drove the car further north of the city toward the Hudson.

True to his word, you only stopped for bathroom breaks. Aside from sunglasses you didn’t have anything to hide your face, so you were careful to avoid cameras, even as Connor assured you they were interrupting the feeds with echolocation bursts.

At least ten hours from when you’d left the motel that morning, you finally arrived at your destination, a mystery to you since Nines wouldn’t say where you was going. Between him and Connor, they’d completely taken over the journey and you didn’t have much say in the matter. You’d convinced Nines at one point to let you drive, and after a couple of hours of magnifying leg pain, you gave up and let them handle maneuvering the backroads of New York.

You should have been impatient to get them to freedom, but you couldn’t help but be relieved, if not a little confused, when Nines turned down another backroad deeper into the maple and birch forest.

You narrowed your eyes at the road but couldn’t read the sign you passed in the darkening twilight.

“Where are we going?”

In the rearview mirror you watched as Nines’ eyes flickered to Connor’s in that way of silent communication. As if to prove your suspicions, Connor turned to you and answered in place of his brother.

“Someplace safe where we won’t be seen for the night.”

Racking your brain, you tried to think but couldn’t think of any places in the area that would fit that description. It wasn’t until the car passed other parked vehicles, some of them trailers and campers, that it finally clicked.

“Oh.” You rubbed your aching knees. “I don’t have any camping equipment. Just some blankets, and it’s going to get chilly.”

“We will make due,” Nines said in his usual dismissive manner.

You didn’t know if he meant to come across as so cold, but it didn’t stop you from leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms, pointedly looking out the window. You were growing self-conscious, even anxious over what had happened the night before. Neither brother had mentioned it, when it had filled your thoughts for most of the day.

Connor gently nudged you with his elbow. He’d been beside you the entire time, either in the backseat with you or in the front seat as you’d driven. Practically connected at the hip all day, even he hadn’t mentioned anything about last night, and the tension in your stomach wound tighter. A taut bowstring about to fire or snap in half.

So it was no surprise when Connor touched you, you flinched hard in your seat. His brown eyes went rounder and he moved closer.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” You gave him a quick upturn of your lips. “Just tired.”

Connor’s brow sharpened as he studied you closer. You tried not to squirm in your seat. The bumpiness of the dirt road, if it could be called that at this point, helped cover the movement.

Nines turned the car into the forest and carefully maneuvered the vehicle through the trees until he came to the edge of a clearing. He put the car into park and turned off the ignition.

The sudden silence, without the sound of the engine or traffic or city noises, was an uncomfortable pressure on your ear drums.

Desperately needing to fill the dead air, you asked, “Are you sure you two don’t want to leave tonight?”

Connor slightly tilted his head but Nines’ shoulders stiffened from where you could see them under the headrest.

“The Hudson isn’t far,” you continued, forcing yourself to sound neutral, as if each word didn’t hurt somewhere in your chest. “We could be there in less than an hour, and you could follow it out to the sea. You could… go home.”

Connor shifted in his seat and slightly leaned forward, brows so sharp there was a crease between them.

“What about you?” His eyes searched yours, his teeth worrying the inside of his cheek. “They’ll catch you. Punish you for helping us.”

“I’ll be fine.”

It was almost funny how your lies had changed. You were the one without hope now. Trapped in a pool of water with no way out. But the lie was as necessary now as it had been then in order to protect the twins.

“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

Connor opened his mouth but Nines cut him off.

“You want us to leave, then?”

You were completely taken aback by his hostile tone.

“What? No. Of course not. Nines—“

He was already moving, shoving the door open and shutting it hard behind him. You quickly lost sight of him in the dim tree line.

Your mouth hung partway open, at a loss of what to say.

“He’s scared.”

Connor’s words were delicate and his eyes soft, moving from where his brother had disappeared and down to your face.

“He’s afraid to lose you. We both are. We know it’s unavoidable if we go back home.”

“If?” Your voice rose slightly, your chest tightening. “There is no if. You-you have to go back home. There’s no other option. You can’t—“

Connor reached out and took your hand from your lap, twining it between his, leaving you warm and without a voice.

“Maybe… we could find a way to work.” His words were slow and careful but his expression was one of lingering hope. “We can survive on land so long as we’re hydrated frequently. With our abilities we could easily disrupt ATMs and cameras, so money and moving around won’t be an issue. The Canadian border isn’t far, and we—“

His words had sped up, the excitement in his voice building, and it hurt you to have to cut them down.

“Connor, you can’t.” You squeezed his hand tight, pleading with him to understand and not make this difficult. “You and Nines have to go home. You don’t belong in this world. Why would you even want to stay when it’s been nothing but cruel to you?”

He tilted his head and angled his brows upwards.

“Because you’re in it.”

Your mouth opened but no words came out, and you were left like that, gaping stupidly at him.

Connor leaned closer, a gentle tug teasing his lips.

“Did you really think we would leave you behind? Let the humans lock you away after you risked your life to save us?” His expression folded into something slightly pained. “Nines hasn’t told you, has he? What they were going to do to him after I was sent to the breeding facility.”

You shook your head, mouth too dry to speak as your gut twisted. You hadn’t actually thought about it, but knowing your employers, it couldn’t be anything good.

“They were going to kill him.”

A darkness passed over Connor’s face, one that was rare to see but genuinely frightening.

“‘Destroy him,’ is the phrase they used. Afterwards, they planned to take him apart. Disassemble him to learn more about our species.”

Connor searched your face. “Do you understand, now? We owe you our lives. The both of us.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Your words had to fight past the lump in your throat; your grip on his fingers must have been painfully tight. “This isn’t about me.”

Connor raised his other hand to tangle his fingers in your hair and leaned forward as if to kiss you. Instead, he leaned his forehead against yours as his hand cradled the back of your neck.

Somehow it felt more intimate than a kiss, sharing the same breathing space with him and feeling the heat radiating off his skin through his clothing. A tremble rippled down your spine when Connor sighed and you felt the puff of air against your lips.

“We’re not abandoning you.” The smile tugged at his lips again. “Especially Nines.”

You frowned at the very confusing statement. If anything, you felt like the tension between you and Nines had gotten worse since last night, and you couldn’t understand why.

Connor caught sight of your frown and raised a brow. “You’re important to him. Have been since we first met you. You… treated him like a living being. No one else at that place did. You even gave him a name.”

You remembered it all too well. On the official research documents, the twins were labeled as RK800 and RK900, and they’d never bothered to give Nines a name. Dr. Stern had given Connor his name, and you’d found out why the other brother had been left as ‘RK900’ late one night while you were cleaning the offices.

Dr. Kamski was tucked away in his office also working overtime, but there was an open bottle of whiskey on his desk. It had been obvious he’d had more than a sip, and you imagined that was the only reason why he’d started talking to you.

“Do you know why we gave a name to the cute, little one, and not its larger, aggressive sibling?” He’d smiled with the same warmth as a shark. “Temperament. Everyone loves Connor, or as much as one can love a wild animal. But its twin, that hulking beast… well… there’s only so much you can do with a vicious creature like that.”

Dr. Kamski had leaned in uncomfortably close, smiling in a way that didn’t meet his eyes, and said, “You name the family pet. You don’t name the livestock.”

You hadn’t known exactly what he’d meant at the time, but knowing now what they’d had planned for Connor and Nines, it made you sick down to your bones. You wanted to hide your face from Connor, at the gentle look he was giving you. It was undeserved.

“Yeah,” you grumbled. “I named him like a pet.”

“He didn’t see it that way. Still doesn’t.” Connor’s thumb rubbed across the back of your knuckles as if to soothe you.

“Aside from me, you were the only other person who’s ever been kind to him,” he added, a teasing edge to his voice. “I know you care about him too.”

“Of course I do,” you said, it wasn’t even a question. “That’s not… not the issue, Connor. I don't want you two to be caught because of me. It’s not worth it.”

Connor slightly lowered his head, giving you a piercing stare that turned his brown eyes into dark stones.

“I think that’s for us to decide.”

Connor leaned forward and pressed his lips against your forehead. Unable to resist or deny him anything, you closed your eyes and basked in the warmth, leaning into the touch. Already your internal walls were breaking down and you wanted to tell him yes, you would stay with them no matter what.

But you couldn’t make that promise, not when it put their lives at risk.

“Just think about it, okay?” Connor’s smile was so faint it almost wasn’t there, though the sadness was. As if he knew the thoughts running through your mind as there wasn’t anything he could say to stop them. “There’s still time.”

Pulling away from you, Connor opened the door and got out of the car, leaving you cold and alone.

A glimpse of your life without the RK twins in it.

Next Chapter

#detroit: become human #detroit become human #mermay #mermaid au #connor x reader #nines x reader #rk1700 x reader #mermaid connor #mermaid nines #rk800 #rk900 #my writing #my fanfiction

[connorandersons-blog]

Kinktober Day 9: Uniforms, RK1K

Funny enough, this was the first day I wrote! I bounce around a lot when writing things that don't actually go together. 

Hope you enjoy!

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

It was a big deal to Connor when he was given a uniform. It was more for show than anything else since he was still going to work as a detective. 

Markus had been there to support him as more than just the leader of the revolution. Connor was the first android to be actually hired, ever. 

Hank had this proud look on his face, but Connor could see some of the sadness that would never go away. Would Cole have become a detective too? Would Cole and Connor get along? He really hoped they would have.

He'd never get to find out, but that was ok. Not in the sense that the death of a child is ok, but that he couldn't change the past no matter how hard he tried. 

Hank clapped him on his shoulder, and even Reed gave him a very small and quick smile. Connor thought it was mostly because Officer Miller had brought in a large chocolate cake to celebrate. (Then had been incredibly apologetic when Connor explain he couldn't eat yet)

Markus had stayed by his side, and when he couldn't he was always in sight and watching Connor. 

It was odd to have so much attention just on him because of something good. He'd gotten used to being focused on because of what people wanted him to do. He had decided to stay as a detective because he liked it and wanted to actually help the city. He wanted the androids to be given fair trials and their crimes not be skirted over because of being androids 

He had also been given a badge, but he hadn't been issued a gun. That was fine. It was a very slow process, but he was proud to have gotten even this far. He didn't really need a gun anyways, and if need be Hank could always let him borrow one. Not like they could find his prints on them. 

It was a few months later when he actually wore it at work. Though, it definitely wasn't for work purposes. He had talked Hank into getting him private access to an interrogation room without too much information given. He'd have to temporarily turn the cameras off there and Hank made sure no one went into the viewing area. 

This was all completely against protocol, but he figured he could break a few minor rules since he was deviant and all. 

Now he had to find a way to get Markus in without any questions from Markus or the other officers. At least with Markus, it wasn't a complete surprise. 

The night after he'd gotten his uniform Markus had whispered in his ear exactly how much he was proud of him and the certain things he wanted to do. Connor was making that come true. 

He had wanted to bring Markus in with handcuffs on but that would raise too many more questions. At least this way they'd just think he was stopping by for a quick visit, not getting arrested.

"Jesus, just cause your Robo Jesus doesn't mean you can walk around here cause you wanna visit your boy toy. You don't get special treatment." Gavin Reed said once he caught sight of the two walking towards the interrogation rooms together. 

First obstacle was going to be Reed. Not too surprising and far easier than it would have been months before. Markus, however, looked ready for murder. Which was quite an impressive feat considering he lead a completely peaceful revolution and stuck by the whole no violent thing. 

"Gavin, I know you may not be getting any, but that's no reason to take it out on us. Plus we do get special treatment, it's called racism and discrimination." He smiled almost too kindly at him.

Gavin was left gaping but also looking slightly impressed. Maybe there was hope for him after all. 

He moved on, guiding Markus away from Gavin with a hand on the small of his back. He really didn't need to actually arrest Markus for assault. 

The one good thing was that only a few people glanced at Connor when Markus was around, so no one really noticed that he was wearing his uniform. It helped play into his plans, making it seem like this was a normal thing. That he didn't wear jeans and whatever shirt he felt like wearing. Sometimes he'd even spice it up with a scarf, hat, or jacket. 

Yet he could tell Markus was definitely affected by it. His breathing was faster than normal and he kept looking over at Connor whenever he didn't have to pay attention to where he was walking. Plus he kept licking his lips which was proof enough. 

It was adorable how much Markus licked his lips when experiencing certain emotions, most of which Connor caused. That did make him wonder if he had a tale for similar situations. 

He pressed his palm to the pad and led Markus into the room. Without even blinking he had the cameras and audio turned off for the room. He'd just have to trust that Hank kept everyone else out. 

"Take a seat." Connor nodded to the chair opposite to the one he had slowly sat down in. 

Markus nodded, only looking slightly confused. "You said I may have witnessed something?" 

Connor nodded and rested his hands on the table. "I did. It's just protocol to bring you in even if you agree to an interface. Has to be all recorded and by the books, especially since it involves androids." That was true if there was an actual case. 

Markus nodded and then held out his hand. "Sure. You can go through any memories you want, you know that. If this can help, I'm willing." Damn this man was too good. How did Connor deserve him? 

"Actually, I have a few things to do first. Like I said, protocols." He slowly stood and swayed his hips just slightly as he moved towards Markus. "Can you stand up for me?" 

Markus's face flushed a dark blue but he stood as told. "Alright, now what, Detective?" Oh, so he was catching on, or just being a little shit. The likelihood of either was about even, all things considered. 

"Hold your arms out and spread your legs for me." He pulled Markus's arms up to show him before patting his arms down. Then he moved down to his chest, doing more than just the regular check. He let his thumb graze over where he knew and felt Markus's nipple were over his shirt. Then he slid his hands down his sides before squatting down and patting up his legs. 

He smirked up at Markus as he got higher up his legs, more running his hands along than actually patting. Who could blame him? Markus had killer thighs. 

He also knew to be gentle around the connections of his legs. They often caused Markus pain so he was gentle there. Then he moved his hands close enough to just tease Markus before pulling back and standing. "You're all clear. I have to do another thing, it's a bit silly but-" he trailed off. 

This part definitely wasn't protocol. Far from it actually. He pulled his cuffs made specifically for androids. Connor had been used to test if they could actually hold him, and he was shocked to see they could. Now all officers carried cuffs for androids and cuffs for humans. 

"Con? Uh, oh. Oh. Well, if you have to, Detective." Markus said, holding out his wrists. 

Connor put them on and then attached them to the table (which was also new and heavy enough that Connor couldn't easily pick it up and throw it). 

"Is that too tight?" He asked, sliding a hand up Markus's back and leaning down just slightly. 

Markus pulled at it, testing the strength. Then he looked up at Connor like he was going to die if he didn't kiss him. So Connor pulled away and went to sit down opposite to Markus. 

This was definitely going to be fun, especially with how needy Markus already looked. He drummed his fingers on the table, simply sitting and watching Markus squirm. 

He wouldn't be able to make this part last too long. Hank could only hold people at bay for so long and others would need the room eventually.

"So, do you know why you're here now?" He asked, using the voice he often used on actual suspects. 

Markus bit his lip and nodded. "I do." 

Connor raised an eyebrow, leaning back into his chair. "Are you going to confess?" 

Markus shook his head. "I can't confess. You'll have to force it out of me." 

That was definitely the plan. He nodded and stood up, slamming the table. Markus jumped, his eyes going wide. "Tell me! I know you did it, so you might as well confess. I don't want to have to use other tactics, you wouldn't like them." It was actually the opposite. 

"I will not talk." Markus looked up at him defiantly. That's exactly what he wanted. 

He unhooked the handcuffs from the table and pulled Markus by his hands so he was bent over the table, chest, and hips pressed against it, and hooked the cuffs back to keep him in place. 

Markus let out a small whine but didn't say his safeword, so Connor continued. He pushed Markus's head down onto the table then moved behind him, letting his hands wander. 

"Look at you, fucking naughty. I think you need to be punished for your crimes, don't you?" He trailed a hand down Markus's spine, making sure to not touch any skin yet. 

"Yes, Detective!" Markus said, shifting just slightly, but it was enough to let Connor know he was very much enjoying this. 

Connor gave a soft hum before sliding a hand under Markus's shirt. His fingers found every small dent and crevice that he knew by heart. He was sure he had kissed every inch of Markus already, but he would be happy to do it again.

Markus tried to push into the touch but Connor kept his chest pressed firmly into the table. "No moving, do you hear me?" 

Markus nodded again before stopping, "yes sir. I won't move." 

"Good boy." Connor moved his hand back down and then pulled Markus's pants down along with his underwear. 

The sight before him is just too good. He knelled down and spread Markus's cheeks apart and leaning forward, licking a fat stripe over his hole.

Markus couldn't help but cry out quietly, squirming and whining as Connor kept licking and poking at his hole with his tongue, loosening up the ring of muscle.

He could do this for hours, Markus squirming underneath him as he eats him out, his own hands keeping Markus's thighs apart so he can get a better angle. 

Androids didn't really need any prep or lube but they both enjoyed the process. 

Connor takes one hand off of Markus's thigh, bringing it to his hole and pushing in a single finger. 

Just like before he knew he couldn't spend too long doing this. He did have enough time from his calculations, so he kept at it, slowly adding fingers when Markus's babbling got more coherent. 

"Please! Con, fuck, please," Markus begged, and how could he say no to that? 

He pulled his fingers out, wiping them onto Markus's shirt. "So wet and needy. I bet everyone would love to see the great android leader like this. I could just send the video of this to the news and it would spread like fire. I wonder who's watching behind that glass?" 

He had scanned the glass multiple times but thankfully found no heartbeats. He highly doubted another android was there since they'd only hired a few others as traffic cops. 

Yet the idea still had Markus trying to find some kind of friction. "You-you can't!" 

Connor hummed, slowly unzipping his too-tight pants. "I'm pretty sure I can. Maybe that will be your punishment. Let the world see how much of a slut you are for me. You do put on a good show." 

He pulled himself out, stroking a few times. "Fuck yes," he muttered. He could get off at just the sight in front of him. Markus would like that too, actually. "What do you want?" 

"You! Please Con, Detective, I want you. Only for you." Markus tried to look over his shoulder but Connor forced it back onto the table. 

"I didn't say you could look." He scolded. "Though, I could just pass you around to the other cops. Let them have a go at you. They'd fill you up but you wouldn't be allowed to come. No, you couldn't do that until you were a whining mess and I finally got to have you again." He gently ran his hand down and up Markus's spine. 

"Connor please!" 

He gave a slight slap to Markus's ass, mostly just cause he loved seeing how shy Markus got when he did that. 

Markus let out a squeak, and he tried to shift. Connor didn't even have to look to know he was blushing and doing everything he could to hide his face. He really was just too damn adorable, and Connor couldn't wait to wreck him. 

He lined himself up, gripping Markus's hips tightly, and pressed the head of his cock against the hole. Just a little bit of force had Markus letting out a long whimper. Connor stayed still until Markus relaxed, and then he began to move very, very slowly until he bottomed out.

God, it felt amazing. Feeling this good had to be illegal in some way, it was like a drug and he was definitely addicted.

Then Markus whined and tried to move his hips, yet Connor kept them firmly in place. "Shh, not yet baby." 

He hadn't pulled his pants or underwear down so Markus would definitely feel both against his skin, but that was part of the point of the whole thing. 

"Detective, please, I need more. I promise to tell you anything you want! Just please move." Markus's voice was a mix of husky and almost static or glitchy, and Connor wouldn't change it for the world. 

He began to thrust his hips at the tantalizing order, slow and steady at first while he savored the feeling of Markus. He reveled in the small whimpers and groans continuing to issue forth from Markus's mouth.

 He increased his pace and intensity suddenly as his fingers dug sharply into Markus's hips. Sparks of pleasure pulsed through him, a pool of liquid fire filling his groin and drawing him closer to the edge. 

"Hmph, feel so good. So good for me baby. What do you need?" It was hard to form words but at least Markus was in no better condition. 

"I—I need to come," Markus whined, blunt nails clawing and squeezing the edge of the table. "Please let me come!" 

He kept his brutal pace, his fingers digging in enough that the skin retracted around them. Connor retracted his own around his hands and Markus didn't hesitate to accept the interface. 

"Fuck! Come, come for me." Connor said, barely able to hold himself back from the flood of arousal and love he got through the connection.

Markus shouted his whole body clenching and tightening. Connor grit his teeth but kept pounding into him, only coming after it just becomes too much. 

Markus's body shaking and shuddering through it all. Connor has to fight to keep his legs steady, but he manages to pull back out and walk to the corner of the room where he had put a bag before going to get Markus. He pulled out wipes and a thirium packet, along with a large hoodie Markus loved. 

He walked over and uncuffed him first, gently rubbing his wrists. "There we go, baby. You did so well," he murmured. 

Then he cleaned up Markus as gently as he could. Markus seemed content to just let him do this, moving when Connor asks. 

The look on Markus's face was pure love and Connor pulled him into a sweet and gentle kiss. He didn't feel the need to deepen it, just content to be. 

He pulls back slowly, smiling softly at Markus who looked slightly dazed. "Alright, I'm going to get you into this hoodie and we can sit here as long as you need. I've got some thirium for you too that you'll need to drink. Can you tell me how you're feeling?" 

He sat down on the ground, back against the wall, and Markus was sitting sideways curled against him. The hoodie's sleeves were long enough that they almost completely covered Markus's hands, but that's how he liked it. 

He took the offered thirium and sipped at it slowly. "I feel good, really good. Thank you for this, you're amazing." Markus pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before leaning his head back into Connor's chest. 

Connor rubbed slow circles into his back, letting out a relieved sigh. It wasn't too odd to not use the colors or safewords during and only realizing something made you uncomfortable or needed to be talked about until after. They had both had that experience a few times, and they'd talked out each one. 

"That's good baby, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Was there anything you wanted to discuss what happened or was said?" 

Markus shook his head, briefly closing his eyes. "No, I liked it all. Do you think you can get away with wearing your uniform at Jericho?"

Connor hummed softly, thinking it over. "I shouldn't do it too often, but maybe on special occasions. By the way, did you want to draw? I snagged one of your sketchbooks and pencils this morning." 

Markus chuckled, playing with the end of his sleeves. "I had wondered where those had gone. You know me too well. Maybe I can sit in the break room and sketch some people." 

Connor nodded but didn't move to get up. He'd let Markus decide when he was ready to move. "After work, I can take you to that park, I heard they finally finished the gazebo and it's supposed to be beautiful." 

Markus gave a small hum, snuggling closer. "Yeah. How long do we have until the room is needed?" 

"You don't need to worry about that right now." Hank would message him if it looked like someone was going to need it, so he wouldn't need to stay on alert. 

He really owed Hank big for this one. The least he could do was get him lunch for at minimum a month. He'd even get him a burger if he wanted. He'd also make sure not to tell Hank about what had happened at all. It was always fun to tease him, but he was definitely going to hold back on that this time. 

They stayed cuddled together for a while until Markus was squirming and ready to move. It was rare Connor even got him to sit down for a few minutes if it wasn't for drawing. Though, he couldn't really complain since he was a certified workaholic. It was nice when Markus finally took time to relax and just stay still. 

But that never lasted for too long, and now was no different. Markus grabbed the bag and put the empty thirium bottle along with the used wipes into a ziploc. 

"Time to get back to work, Detective. Don't want you missing out on catching some criminals. Hopefully, they all don't get the same harsh treatment as me." Markus grinned, bumping their shoulders together. 

"Only you baby, only you."

#kinktober #kinktober 2020 #rk1000 #dbh rk1000 #rk1000 fic #dbh rk1k #rk1k fic #rk1k dbh #rk1k #dbh markus #detroit markus #markus x connor #connor x markus #markus #markus manfred #RK200 #markus rk200 #dbh rk200 #rk200 x rk800 #connor rk800 #RK800 Connor #detroit become human rk800 #rk800connor #rk800 #Connor Anderson #Connor #dbh fanfic #dbh fandom #dbh fic #connor dbh fanfic

[buck-nialled]

Empty Pages - R. Mendes (3)

NOTE: well if you saw my last post then you know how this chapter is going to end but if you haven't, well, get ready *cue evil laughter* also let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list by messaging or replying to this post, thanks!

PROLOGUE // PART ONE // PART TWO

Raul was not expecting to put that much effort into the drawing, really. Half of the hard work was already done, thanks to Lily and Mrs. Basel discussing most of what the work’s finer elements were right in earshot of him. The boy thought by the time he was finished sketching out the rough design in number two pencil, going as far as to outline it in black pen exhibited enough effort. But he knew it was lacking in its message and persuasion. The anger only the red colored pencil glaring at him from the unopened box buried beneath the healing pile of past schoolwork on his desk could portray to his audience. His fingers twitched and finally, his body caved and leaped up from his bed and to his desk where he reached for the box of perfectly sharpened, untouched pencils.

He was tentative with his color choice, and even more cautious when blending the different shades and allowing movement across the piece. No weights nor frivolous purchases of ripped jeans and leather jackets would come to be quite as cathartic as scrubbing the colored lead furiously back and forth across the paper. A full two hours had passed when Raul finally conceded to his completed drawing and set the dull pencil down. His hands were cramping, and various splotches of blended wax tainted his palms and knuckles like bruises, but he felt okay with it, strangely.

“Hey, Raul do you—” Shawn’s voice made his brother’s head snap up from the drawing to look at him. “Woah, dude…that looks great.” Shawn slowly approached his brother’s work with caution, afraid to lift even a finger in fear of Raul reaching out to snap it. “And I thought you were going to cheat off of me or Pete.” He chuckles, eyes continuing to study the slogan and illustration encompassing the destruction of routine and tradition. “You came up with this yourself?”

Raul bit his lip, now becoming irritated with Shawn’s wandering eyes. “Did you need something?” The older asks, rising up from his bed so his frame could shield the paper. Shawn’s eyes grew wide and he cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I was just gonna ask if you still had that drawing stuff. You know, the stuff that mom gave you that one—” Shawn’s ask was interrupted with a sharp “oof” when Raul shoved the box of pencils against his chest.

“Anything else you need?” He quirks a brow to his brother. Shawn sets his lips into a firm line and shakes his head, before sending Raul a quick ‘thanks’ and retreating back into his own bedroom. When his bedroom door is shut once again, Raul heaves a sigh and lets his tired hands into the river of curls say on his head. The heap of gel he applied to his hair this morning made the dark locks a little less smooth than what he had imagined. Turning back to face the paper with a sigh, Shawn’s unanswered question continued ringing in his ears until he slid the paper into his folder and the folder into his backpack.

“It’s just a project. Just a project…” Raul repeated this mantra to himself that night until he fell asleep.

The following morning, Lily waltzed up to her teacher’s desk with the best smile her fatigued state could muster, propaganda in hand ready to hand in.

“Here you are, Mrs. K.”

“Oh, no sweetie. You’re going to be presenting them.” Her eyes flicked away from the digital attendance sheet on her computer screen and to the young woman. Lily notes that her eyes never even glanced over her work, meaning other students must have had the same idea of turning it in.

“Oh…everybody?” Her smile begins faltering. The teacher hums and sends a small nod, cueing Lily to walk to her desk with crushed expectations. As she sank down into the chair, the sight of a brooding form drenched in black caught her site. She tilted her head to the right, spotting Raul Mendes early and eager in his chair. Had Raul not been adorned in the shirt with burn holes near his collarbone and eight years younger, there was no doubt Lily would be on the edge of her seat beside him, drumming against the wooden desks with their no. 2 pencils in anticipation.

But Lily would say she overall felt a riveting urge in her stomach to make a beeline toward the school clinic and bluff her anxiety with a stomachache. Mrs. K completed attendance as the girl continued to gnaw on her lip.

“Alright, let’s begin!” The instructor announces, reading down the line of various names. Finally, she reached ‘M’ and beckoned Raul up to stand before the rows of desks and share his work. Normally, Raul would prefer his brothers (mostly Peter) to be in the same class as him, in order for time to be stalled even longer for any assignments the oldest might have missed the night previous. Raul, however, lacked a single complaint in his mind as he let his black sneakers steer him to stand in front of his English class with a tantalizing smirk.

“I title this piece: Breaking Tradition.” Silence followed the boy’s introduction due to the overwhelming surprise his peers felt that Raul not only completed his project within the given time limit but did so marvelously. Some lips parted in appalment--Mrs. K’s included—while others gasped. The initial silence was not long-lasting, however, and the proof lied in arbitrary whisper’s floating around the cinderblock building, all discussing Raul’s piece.

But one voice remained silent through the tirade of talk. Her jaw was too busy clenching furiously. Her teeth were grinding together to the point where they might have ground one another to dust but Lily could care less. That was her idea on his paper. That was her design she discussed with Mrs. Basel only a day prior, which was displayed gloriously on Raul Mendes’s paper. Even worse, it looked better than hers did, despite the hours she spent through the night blending and measuring and lettering every word on the damn slogan to perfection.

And the man stood to the front of the class just sat with an accomplished smile and dazzling brown eyes, as if he thought he deserved the credit. Her heart began thrumming in her chest, drowning out some of Raul’s syllables amidst his explanation which Lily was certain mimicked her presentation verbatim. Her fingers curled and twisted against her palms, the nails she would bite everyday subconsciously now digging broken crescents into her skin. Mad was one emotion Lily never found herself yearning to express—unlike Raul, who found no trouble allowing his to show a swelling bruise against Connor’s cheek—but this anger surging through her veins and rampant pulse appearing at her temples in seconds felt multiplied. The girl was furious.

As her sight of Raul began to become tainted with red, she detected Raul’s eyes in one, continuous spot. They remained on Isabella’s seat for the duration of his speech, though his target was not trying her hardest to reciprocate. From Lily’s seat, one could see the artificial light graze the girl’s profile like a brushstroke. Her jawline was slim and sharp, yet her lips portrayed a soft, childlike pout as she gazed adoringly down at her recently manicured set, coated in only the most overelaborate-named polishes, like “Harp Seal Silver Fur” or “Black Kyoto Pearl”. If it was not her nails, it was the new string of text messages her and Connor were participating in more often than class discussions if the teacher was too enthralled by the symbolism Orwell disguises so carefully, or how the human brain makes up an entire two percent of your body weight.

Unfortunately for Lily, she was also seated beside Isabella in their anatomy course, very much against her will.

“Brilliant job.” Mrs. K mutters to Raul upon him handing her his work. He returns the compliment with a taller smirk than he was holding before as if he was not staring into the woman responsible for questioning his attendance only two days prior. His eyes flickered back to Isabella and remained on her throughout his journey back into his desk seat, absorbing her from every angle, and allowing his footsteps to slow in their stride.

“Lily?” Her head snapped away from the spot Raul was just occupying, to Mrs. K, heartbeat rattling her ribcage like a xylophone out of tune.

“Huh?”

“It’s your turn…” The teacher informs.

“Oh…uh…” Her cheeks were aflame but thankful for her shoulder-length hair to curtain them as she tilted her head down to the open binder. Her work glared back at her, yearning so badly to be picked up and bragged about, but how was she to repeat the last five minutes of class in a different body and less adequate art piece, and not expect consequences. Judging by Raul’s unbridled confidence, Lily doubts he would come clean about his plagiarism. Even worse, he would not hesitate to manipulate the situation to fixate the blame on Lily, instead. It was not hard to do with the golden honey encapsulated in his irises and pair of choppers he has since been exchanging for a fine smirk. The point is that, though she had an honest reputation, so did Raul Mendes—for the most part. And who was she to allow that to possibly deteriorate within a matter of minutes over a school assignment?

It would be the mature thing to do, sure. But this was high school, and an eighteen your old Raul Mendes has made it clear that playing dirty in order to appease this newly constructed figure of his was less than bothersome.

“I guess…I-I forgot.” Lily murmurs quietly from her desk, closing her binder to remove the work from her sight. “Sorry, Mrs. K.” There was a tingling sensation against her right cheek from Raul’s speculating pair, but the feeling faded from her profile seconds after Isabella’s presence was invited to the front of the class by the instructor.

She would find a way to avenge the assignment soon. Little did her privy classmate know that Lily Mirray could play dirty when fate beckons for it. And fate’s call was Isabella standing up from her seat and strutting towards the whiteboard, skirt swishing in each step.

Raul’s fascinated stare remained on Isabella’s form throughout her entire presentation.

And so did Lily’s.

TAGLIST; @fanficshawn @lonelyreputation @shawnmendez @fan-of-many-bands

#shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes au #mendes triplet au #mendes triplets #raul mendes #peter mendes

[connordavidscamera]

First Date | Connor Brashier

A/n: this is a repost from my Shawn account!! This is my piece and is not stolen. 

Summary: neither of you are ready for this night to end. So what if it didn’t?

Warnings: switches POVs

Word count: 2.3k

***

“The night’s still young,” Connor says, looking at the clock on the dashboard.

I rest my head in the palm of my hand and look up at him, “What should we do?”

“We could just drive around. I’ve still got a full tank of gas if you’re down.”

I check the charge on my phone, it’s still at eighty percent, so I shrug. “Okay. Let’s do it. Where to?”

“Nowhere. Everywhere. You pick. Don’t even think about it. Just say the first thing that pops into your head.”

I nod. “Okay.”

“One… two… three.”

“The beach.” We say at the same time.

He smiles, “Then I guess we’re going to the beach.”

I shake my head, “Connor, the closest one is like two hours away.”

“Then I guess you should tell your roommate that something came up and you’re not going home tonight.”

I gape at him. 

“What?” He asks with a chuckle and I notice just how beautiful he is when he laughs.

“What are we even doing?” I ask in disbelief.

He turns on his signal light and merges into the empty lane next to us. “We’re having fun. Come on, it’s one night. Just do something crazy with me. Let’s go out to the water and watch the sun come up.”

“You’re insane, you know that?”

“I do.”

“This could get us in trouble.”

“With who?” He laughs and takes the hand that is currently holding my head in place. “Y/n, it’s no big deal. But… if it’s really bothering you, I don’t mind taking you back to your apartment. We can call it a night and I’ll take you out to the beach for our second date.” The sincerity in his voice makes me melt. But all I could focus on was that he wants to go on a second date with me.

I don’t say anything for a while, chewing on the inside of my cheek. 

“Well, what’s the verdict? I can get off at the next exit if you want.”

I don’t realize it, but I shake my head. “Keep going.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” I place our laced hands in my lap. “I want to.”

“Okay,” Connor beams and focuses back on the road in front of us. “I guess you better get comfortable, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

I’m good just like this, I think but can’t bring myself to say as I smile stupidly at our joined hands. I feel him glance over at me again and I involuntarily shrink under his gaze. 

By midnight we’re cuddled up on the hood of his truck with coffee and snacks, talking about everything under the stars. 

“So wait, you were how old?” He asks, dumbfounded.

“I was six when I first started playing piano and was classically trained by eight. I can also play guitar, harp, cello, and the drums.”

He stares at me in amazement. “You're… wow. You’re fucking phenomenal.”

I shrug off the compliment, “I wouldn’t say all that.”

“You don’t have to. I just did.” He nudges my shoulder with his and smiles down at me. “What other hidden talents do you have?”

I hum and look up at the dark, never ending sky, lit by the moon and stars. “I did ballet for six years. From age nine to fifteen. I hated it.”

“What else?” His chin rests on his arms which rest on his knees. He’s so eager to get to know me and I don’t know what to do about that. I wasn’t used to the attention.

My face burns, “I, uh, have a tattoo. My parents know nothing about it. They’re really strict about that kind of stuff." 

"What is it? Where is it?”

I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Let’s go for a swim.”

“What?”

I slide off the hood of his truck and shrug off my cardigan. “Let’s go swimming.” I kick out of my sandals and place them over my discarded cardigan. 

“The water has to be at least negative three degrees.”

My jeans are next to go. He’s not at all fazed that I’m stripping right in front of him. “There’s only one way to find out.” I lift my shirt from my chest, revealing my rib tattoo, just peeking from under my red lace bra. “You coming or what?” I wink at him before turning around, skipping toward the ocean. 

The sound of his feet hitting the ground makes me smile. I’m thigh deep in the cold water before he catches up with me. “This is crazy, you know that?”

“Well how do you expect to drive all the way to the beach to not even get in the water?”

Connor chuckles and takes my hands. I stare up at him, smiling wide. “You have the most adorable smile.”

I bite my lip and look down at the water crashing against us. “Yeah? Well yours isn’t so bad, either.”

He boops my nose and I scrunch up my face. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I mean it. You are downright adorable and I think… I could probably spend every waking moment with you if you let me.”

“Really now? You think you could handle that?”

“I do.”

“Well you are lucky, because I might want that too.”

“So,” he looks at my side where my inked skin is on display. “What’s the tattoo mean?”

“A little bit messy. A little bit ruined. A beautiful disaster. ” I swallow, “It’s a quote from my favorite book. I uh, I got it during one of my dark periods a few years ago.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Very much,” I nod.

“Can I feel it?”

“Sure,” I take his hand and place it just under the wire of my bra.

—

Her fingers are cold against mine, but I revel in the feeling. What we’re doing is far from what I expected to happen. I was just hoping to get a kiss by the time I dropped her off. But now I’m here, in just my boxers, freezing in the ocean with her. And she stands before me, eyes closed, breathing uneven, in nothing but her bra and panties. 

I run my fingers gently over the soft skin of her stomach and that’s when she shudders against me, making me melt. It’s intimate being this close to her, and something in me wants this to last forever. She looks so pretty standing in front of me, not a care in the world, just looking like the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on. Her hair falls carelessly in her face, covering her burning cheeks. The moonlight basks her in this angelic light and I’m afraid that if I close my eyes, she’ll be gone.

I don’t realize I’ve been staring for so long until a cold gush of water hits me and I stumble back. Y/n’s laughing, no doubt at my shocked face, clutching her stomach. “Sorry,” she clears her throat. “This was just getting too serious for me.”

I wipe at my face, shaking my head. “Oh you’ve started a war.”

“No!” She says already starting to back away from me. 

“Yes,” I lunge for her and catch her before she gets too far. She squeals, her back flush against my chest. I spin her around a couple times before I throw her in. 

“Connor!” She screams, and stupid me very curiously wants to know how my name would sound when she screams it in different circumstances. 

We play around in the water for a while. Splashing and throwing and ducking and diving. It’s the most fun I’ve had on a date ever. This girl has me totally whipped and she doesn’t even know it yet.

After we’ve become all shriveled and the water has become too cold to be bearable, we make our way back to my car. I pull out a couple towels from my trunk and she narrows her eyes at me. “You just have random towels with you at all times?” She asks when I wrap one loosely around her shoulders.

I take mine and run it roughly over my damp hair. “My mom was always overly packed when my brother and I were kids. I guess I just took after her in that aspect. I always have extra clothes and blankets and everything.

She hums, gripping the towel tighter around her, her teeth chattering. "That’s cute.”

“You’re cute,” I muse. “Come on, let’s warm you up,” I walk around her and open the passenger door for her. She smiles gratefully and slips in. I take our clothes from the hood and walk back around to the driver’s side. I blast the heater and see her visibly relax. The dash reads twenty past three. “We still have a couple hours before sunrise. What should we do?”

She shifts in her seat to face me better. “Tell me about film. Like what made you want to do it?”

I sigh, “It’s dumb.”

“I’m sure it’s not,” her hand rests on my bare bicep. “Come on. I really want to know. I want to know you. I’ve told you probably everything you could possibly know about me. Now it’s your turn.”

I hum, “Okay. I guess - I started when I was pretty young. I always liked photos. I still do. But there’s just something about videos. When you can hear and see and feel the energy radiating from the crowd. Pictures are great, don’t get me wrong. Videos are just that little something extra. You get to fully relive a moment instead of just thinking back to it, when you can forget minor details.”

She smiles. “You’re amazing. You know that?”

My face flushes red and I rub the back of my neck sheepishly. “I’m okay, I guess.”

Another hour passes of us just talking about anything, we make our way back out to shore about an hour before the sun comes up. We’re walking hand in hand, neither of us particularly dressed - my jeans hang low on my hips, exposing the waistband on my boxers,  and she’s in my sweat top. The sleeves are so long, they bunch up at her wrist so she can comfortably hold my hand.

“What do you think about travel?” I ask her, looking down at her while she looks over the water beside us.

“Travel… hmm. I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to, it’s just hard with classes and stuff. Hard to find the time to get away, I guess.”

I nod, “Yeah, I get that.”

“What about you? You travel a lot with Shawn. Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah. No, it’s amazing. Exhausting, but amazing.”

“What’s your favorite place you’ve been to?”

“Italy was nice, I really liked Spain too.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Paris. It’s basic, I know. I just always thought it looked pretty.”

Well maybe I can take you one day, I think to myself. “You’ll go someday. I’m sure of it.”

We sit down a short while later and I lean back on my hands as I watch her pull her messy hair into a bun. I want to kiss her, run my thumb over her cheekbones, feel the crushing weight of her lips against mine. She catches me staring and covers my eyes playfully, “Connor, stop!”

“What?” I take her hands and tangle our fingers again.

“You’re staring again,” she says, leaning into me, her head resting in the crook of my neck.

—

For a second my eyes flutter shut, but I will the sleepiness away. “What time does the sun come up?”

“Not for another twenty minutes. You got time to take a nap." 

I snuggle closer to him, loving the sea salt smell that coats his body - the scent in itself like a sweet lullaby. But I shake my head, "No, I’m okay. Let’s just,” I yawn. “Let’s just stay like this for a little bit.”

“We can do that,” he wraps one arm around my waist and we stay like this until the sky starts to become lighter and bluer, a comfortable silence still falling over us.

“It’s so pretty,” he says quietly, as if speaking any louder would ruin the moment.

“Yeah, it is.” I yawn again and bury myself into him again.

He chuckles. “You okay there?”

“You’re comfy,” I mumble. “Could fall asleep right here.”

“And I would love nothing more. But I unfortunately have to get us back home.”

“No,” I whine. “Don’t wanna go. Wanna stay here with you.”

“Well I guess we could stay a little longer. How about I take you to breakfast?”

“Like a second date?” I look up at him through hooded eyes.

“Well I haven’t taken you home yet. This is technically still date one.”

I smile, “Okay.”

He pats my thigh and I remove myself from him so he can stand. When he’s done dusting himself off, he holds a hand out to me. We’re dangerously close to each other as the sun basks us in the six o'clock light. His hands detangle from mine and find their way to my jaw. I’m extremely aware of everywhere my body touches his, and before I have the nerve to pull away, his lips are covering mine. I hum and wrap my arms around his neck, playing with the tufts of hair that would touch his collar if I wasn’t wearing his shirt. His tongue slides into my mouth and he bunches up the shirt, pulling me closer to him. 

When we pull apart, he rests his forehead against mine, trying to catch his breath. “Let’s go get you something to eat so I can get you home.”

I mock hurt. “Dang. Okay.”

“No,” he laughs. “Because if I take you home, that means I can take you on a second date. Maybe tomorrow?”

“You’d think after 15 hours you’d be tired of me.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t think I ever could.”

***

I hope you enjoyed (again)! Please, like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

#connor brashier #connor brashier x reader #connor brashier x y/n #connor brashier imagines #connor brashier imagine #connor brashier fanfiction #connor brashier blurb #repost from old blog

[princecupcakee]

Park Bench | Reddie

Read on AO3

Rating: E

Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Word Count: 3,112

Chapter: 1/8

Next Chapters: Chapter 2 (AO3), Chapter 3 (AO3), Chapter 4 (AO3)

Summary: Recently divorced and ‘incapable of love’, Eddie Kaspbrak moves to Los Angeles for work and a small, small hope of a fresh start. Broken up and never dated again, Richie Tozier tries to get back into love with help from his love of music. Quickly meeting eyes and one concert later, they think that maybe love isn’t that bad. So they try it one more time.

Chapter 1: Richie Tozier’s Plan, Eddie Kaspbrak’s First Vinyl & Beverly Marsh’s Plan

Tags/Warnings: Angst / Unhappy Ending / theres only one sex scene but this is explicit anyway / Bisexual Richie Tozier / Gay Eddie Kaspbrak / Post-Divorce / Implied/Referenced Cheating / Inspired By Remembering Sunday (All Time Low) / Inspired by The Book Ninja by Ali Berg / Implied/Referenced Child Abuse / Implied/Referenced Abuse / Implied/Referenced Manipulation

Tag-list: @richietoaster, @s-s-georgie, @mikeuris​, @gazebobullshit, @that-weird-girls-blog, @tozierking​, @thoughtfullyyoungduck, @s-onora, @bellarosewrites, @lermanslogan, @ambitiousskychild, @ghostnebula, @vanillaredvelvet, 

(Ask if you wanna be on the tag-list!!)

Chapter 1

Richie Tozier’s Plan

If Richie’s love life was written into a song, it would be called ‘Disaster’; named after his sad attempts at everything even just slightly involved with it. It would be a ballad, slow at first, some depressing line about how dreams don’t become reality. The chorus would hit loud, deafening if rock music wasn’t something you’d find yourself listening to, ‘He loved the sound of their romance’ is the loudest line in the chorus followed by: ‘But he messed up the steps to the dance’  then a sudden melancholy beat, ‘He failed his audition and he lost his chance.’ Toward the end of the song, as the sounds of the drums faded, and a slow guitar was the dominant sound, ‘It’s hopeless’ and the song would close.

Richie’s love life was an utter disaster if you tried to put it to words. He hadn’t had a single normal date in a very long time (he wonders if he ever did, really.) It wasn’t as simple as, ‘I spilled my drink and now there’s going to be a stain and that embarrassing’ those dates wouldn’t stand a chance on his. A few from his museum of failed dates:

Exhibit A -

James: Hey, I saw that you live in Los Angeles

Richie: Yeah! What about you?

James: I just got out of jail and my ex changed the locks. I really need a place to stay?

Exhibit B -

“I love this band so much,” Abigail gushed.

“Me, too! I’m really glad we were able to catch them here.”

And later that night on the news: ‘Woman arrested for jumping on stage to pull a strand of hair from a celebrity in a Los Angeles concert.’

Exhibit C - Connor. Connor Bowers was perfect with Richie, at least as Richie thought. The two had been dating for 2 years until Richie proposed, only to be rejected. Connor confessed that he was cheating, that he didn’t even actually like men. The night they got together, Richie had bought him a drink. Connor really only wanted to try it, but it clearly wasn’t for him. The next morning though, when they woke up in Connor’s bedroom, Richie decided that they were together. Richie wasn’t really thinking, he was just in desperate need for love. After Richie was kicked out of Connor’s apartment, he ended up in Stan’s house, unable to stay alone his own.

Richie never really moved out of Stan and Patty’s house. They didn’t really mind Richie living there, but they did mind that Richie was still bitter about the breakup. Stan and Richie have been friends since they were kids, he’s seen Richie in every way. Patty and Richie became close friends right when Stan introduced them. They would try to set Richie up with a few of their friends but he would just sulk in his room. He claims to be ‘done with love in the most chill way possible’ but the sad love songs, the bitterness on Valentines, and the sulking would beg to differ.“Love isn’t that bad you know, you could try”

“I don’t need to try. I’m fine,” Richie countered.

“There’s a lot of fish in the sea,” Patty said, kindly.

“Not anymore. All I get is plastic bags now,” Richie said bitterly.

Stan sighed, “you’re just gonna be alone forever?”

“Yes,” Richie replied immediately, standing up to get ready for work. Aside from a few comedy gigs, he works at a little record store a few minutes from where he lives. The store had the best speakers, phonographs, Walkmans, discs, headphones, everything. Richie loved it there, always being surrounded by music. The store was always pretty empty, aside from the occasional customer, it was just him. Like its always been.

He took his car from the driveway, heading for the city.

~~~

“Morning, Ben, Bev,” Richie nodded at them, smiling.

“Good morning Richie,” Beverly greeted with a wave, “How have you been?” Beverly was Ben’s wife, she has always been nice to Richie. ‘Nice’ didn’t compose of only greetings and coffee and being professional, they were close friends who went out to movies and heard each other’s lives play. Beverly designed clothing lines, while Ben was an architect. They don’t spend much time in the store, usually just leaving it with Richie.

“Pretty good, you?”

“Fine, but this one forgot to fix the thing on this table yesterday and was insanely worried all night,” Beverly pointed to Ben over her shoulder.

“It could break!” Ben argued, continuing to fix whatever was wrong with the table. Beverly walked over to Richie, who is sat down on the sofa. “So… I have this friend. He’s smart, good-looking, and really nice-“

“No, Bev, I’m not going to date. I’m single and unwilling to mingle.”

“More like, single and afraid to mingle,” she tiredly rolls her eyes, “Richie, there are good people out there, you just have to try.”

“I don’t see that. All the good people are with the other good people. Look at you and Ben! Both of you are like, super hot and nice. Guys like me got no chance- not saying that I want a chance, because I’m fine being alone.”

“You just have to keep looking.”

“Its a waste of energy to ‘keep looking.’ People who like me are not okay. Remember Abigail? Not to mention, people have shit taste in music.”

“You’re such a music snob,” She weakly laughs and shakes her head.

“Alright, its good. The screws were just-“ Ben says, getting up and walking to them.

“Ben, we love you but I don’t understand a single thing you say about architecture and furniture, and whatever else there is,” Bev jokes.

“I try. I’m out for today though, I have meeting, and I’m not sure if I’ll be back,” Ben says to Richie.

“Thats fine, I’ll just sit back here,” Richie smiles putting his hands behind his head and leaning further into the sofa.

“See you then.”

Richie picked up a vinyl and put it in the player. He had been playing around with cassettes, and a few of his own vinyl for a few hours now (‘few’ probably not being the case) and thinking and writing. After he’s finished a chunk of the script he was working on for his Friday performance at a local bar, he had gotten bored and just casually sat by the sofa. ‘Love’ the word danced around his head, taunting him. Or at least, to him, it was taunting. ’He woke up from dreaming and put on his shoes’ sung the player.

The song carried him around as he sang, “Forgive me I’m trying to find, my calling, I’m calling at night. I don’t mean to be a bother but have you seen this girl?” The lyrics took him strongly, his heart tight and loose at the same time, feeling each beat. He drums his fingers on the sofa, following the beats, “She’s been running through my dreams. And its driving me crazy it seems. I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

“you’re such a music snob,” rang in his ears, and he knew what he was going to do. He ran to his collection of vinyl seated by the left of the speakers, under the small table and began to search. He had his own few pieces of vinyl in the store, his own music that he listened to on the empty days of work. The Beatles, Green Day, Aerosmith, he took all the classics in his hands and grinned.

~~~

“Explain to me your plan again?” Stan asked, shocked.

“I’m going to get the best vinyl, write my number or email- whatever, and see who calls. Go on a date, see what happens. I’m gonna leave the vinyl all around the city’s subway all that, ” Richie explains excitedly.

“That might actually work!” Patty says, joining Richie’s excitement.

“This can get you more crazy dates than the ones you got before, Rich,” Stan says, unsure.

“Then, its material for my shows! Like Abigail and James!”

“See, Stan? Its great! Richie tries to go back to dating and he gets show material, win-win!” Patty hopes.

“Where will you get all the vinyl your leaving?”

“Thats the only downside, I’m going to use my own vinyl, maybe beg Ben to let me use the ones at the store?”

Stan sighs, softly smiling and nods, “this could work.”

~~~

‘Hot Fuss’ sat on his lap as he traced over the letters. Richie was in doubt now, his heart racing as he sat in the train. This was the first vinyl he would be leaving for this project of his. His stop was in a few minutes, so he pulled out the Sharpie from his pocket, bit the cap off, and wrote: ‘If you’ve enjoyed listening to this, would you enjoy a date too? Email me, Richie Tozier, @Remembering_Records.’ Richie set the vinyl down subtly and walked. “@Remembering_Records?” Stan asks.

“I was listening to Remembering Sunday, it was influenced,” Richie replies, hopping over the gap, he takes a deep breath and looks over at Stan, “Let’s hope this works,” he smiles, dashing away.

Eddie Kaspbrak’s First Vinyl

“I can’t believe we’re not using our cars,” Eddie mumbles, grumpily.

“Says the New Yorker,” Mike jokes.

“I drive there! Bill’s from there too! Subway stations are so unsanitary, so many people-“

“P-please! Enough with the com-complaining!” Bill says, frustrated, “M-Mike’s car broke down, and there’s no other way to get to B-Ben and Bev’s shop.”

“Its your day off! You landed in LA at midnight, and now we’re going to meet up with old friends,” Mike says happily, walking into the train.

“Exactly! Midnight. I shouldn’t be running around in this germ-infested-“

Mike looks at him tiredly.

“—I’m doing this because Ben and Bev are great and they’re our place to stay, Florida,” Eddie rolls his eyes.

Eddie doesn’t fit in LA. At all. He’s not used to the weather, the lifestyle, everything. He doesn’t like it here and just wants to go home. And Los Angeles seems to not want him here either. He lost one out of three of his suitcases the moment he got down, he had to wait an hour for Mike and Bill to pick him up from the airport, Mike’s car breaks down on the way to meet a friend, and now he’s taking the dirty subway.

He’s only really here for work. All three of them are. Bill and Eddie are from New York, and Mike is from Florida. They were transferred to the Los Angeles branch as a way to teach and help the new workers there. Bill’s ex-girlfriend, Beverly, lives in Los Angeles with her husband. They’re all good friends and Ben and Beverly offered to let them stay at their house (scratch that- mansion) for as long as they’re there. Of course, they took the offer instead of some crummy hotel, too far from their jobs.

Now here he is, on a train, heading to EighthNote to meet Ben and Beverly. But something isn’t right in this train, Eddie doesn’t know if this is just Los Angeles, but there, two seats away, is a light blue, paper casing, with the words ‘The Killers Hot Fuss’ sprawled across its center.

“Look, its Hot Fuss,” Mike points, “someone must’ve lost it.”

“We could put it in the l-lost and found,” Bill mumbles.

“Do not touch that. Who knows where its been?” Eddie says immediately, grabbing Bill's wrist and lightly pulling him back.

But Mike was already on his way to the seat, hand already about to grab the record. Until some guy in his late twenties took the record and sat on the seat. “Oh, is this yours?” He asks Mike.

“Oh, no, it isn’t mine,” Mike says walking back to Bill and Eddie.

~~~

On a street corner, a glass door, big windows, and a small wood sign that says EighthNote hanging above, Ben and Bev were talking inside when Bill, Mike, and Eddie walked in. “Ben! Bev!” Mike smiles, arms open wide.

“Its been so long!” Beverly sings, piling them into a group hug.

“It really has. I didn’t even know you had this shop,” Eddie says, admiring the speakers.

“At this point, it isn’t even ours, one our friends who work here basically one the place at this point,” Ben explains.

“You guys have a whole staff for this?”

“Nah, its just one of our friends. We pretty much just lay around here, the few customers here and there,” Beverly smiles, “he’s got comedy gigs though, he should honestly be a star now.”

“What’s his name?”

“Richie. We met him through Patty—one of my friends who model for me— her husband, Stan.”

“I’m probably pulling at strings here but are you talking about Stan Uris?” Mike asks, surprised.

“Yeah! How do you know him?”

“Best ex I ever had.”

Beverly laughs cheekily, “do tell.”

“Nothing! I just know from college, we dated a while, then he swooned for a girl, Patty Blum.”

“Thats her alright. Gorgeous.”

Eddie had moved on from the speakers by then, knowing they’d be reminiscing college in the next few minutes. Eddie only knows Ben and Beverly through Bill. Bill and Beverly had dated in college, but broke up and just stuck to being friends. Nothing is really awkward between them, all still close. Ben and Eddie both get along with architecture. He really just wanted something to do, he didn’t know what anything in this store was. “Its the thing from the train,” Eddie points, not exactly talking to anyone.

“Oh yeah,” Mike says walking over to Eddie. Mike’s reply startling him.

“Train?” Ben asks.

“We found a vinyl in the train on our way here,” Bill explains.

The conversation didn’t go into the details anymore, as Beverly took the record and put it in… Eddie didn’t know what that was. Was he supposed to? He saw Walkmans from his classmates when he was in middle school, but he never paid too much attention to it. He simply didn’t have the time or energy to care. Its just music. The song started oddly, in Eddie’s opinion. ‘Save some face, you know you’ve only got one’

“What the fuck is this?” Eddie wondered as the song continued.

“You’ve never heard ‘Smile Like You Mean It’?” Bill asks making Eddie slightly uncomfortable.

“I- No?”

Beverly cheekily grinning, “Well, since you’re in LA with us, you’re gonna finally see what good music is.”

~~~

The day took longer than Eddie had hoped, but now, he was in a car (thank God) heading the Marsh’s house. Grateful that Bill and Mike were just as exhausted and quiet as he was, he finally caught up with his thoughts. He was finally able to think again, about how the shop looked, how much he disliked the album Beverly basically threw at his ears, how cute the boy who walked into the shop earlier- no. No. Not what should be running threw his head right now. “Do you guys know the guy who walked into EighthNote earlier?”

“The tall, Hawaiian shirt guy with the glasses?” Mike asked, not looking at Eddie as he turned the wheel.

“Yeah.”

“I th-think that was the guy who works there. Who would randomly bring food into a store and y-yell ‘I brought Chinese, fuckers!’ If they didn’t work there?” Bill answers.

“Right,” Eddie says, his mind wandering away from the topic. He found himself opening his phone and searching ‘Hot Fuss’ into Spotify’s search bar. As much as he’d hate to admit it, it wasn’t that bad. And the guy at the store was cute.

Beverly Marsh’s Plan

“I brought Chinese, fuckers!” Richie shouted as he walked into the store. He instantly dropped his hands when he saw a man right in front of him.

After a quite lengthy moment of staring, “Excuse me,” he said, moving to the right of Richie, out the door, two men following after.

“Who were they?” Richie asked, setting the food on the table in front of him.

“Old friends of ours. They’re gonna be staying at our place,” Beverly explains.

“Okay,” Richie drags the word, “anyway, I have an amazing plan that was already put into action before any of you two hets try to stop me—”

“Uh-huh,” Ben cautiously nods.

“— so. Here’s how it works. I’m gonna set out a bunch of vinyl and shit on subways, with an email written on the back, and see how calls. I write if they wanna go on a date on the back, and if you’re worried if that'll be a bunch of people like Abigail and shit, I’m not saying you’re wrong. But if it is, it’s show material. It’s gonna be great.”

“This is amazing! You should’ve told us earlier, I totally would’ve come with you!” Beverly laughs.

“Wait. Did you start today?” Ben asks.

“Yeah, why?”

“Which?” Ben smirks at Beverly, as she returns the look.

“Hot Fuss,” Richie smiles. Ben and Beverly snicker. Richie rolls his eyes, “Yeah I know I played Mr. Brightside to a girl before, but I didn’t know the song was about cheating!”

Beverly’s laughter doubles, “That’s not it but okay.”

“Whatever. But, anyway, who was the short guy earlier?”

“We told you, old friends. Why?” Ben says.

“Dunno. He was kinda cute I guess.”

“See? I told you you’d like him. That was the guy I was telling you about,” Beverly smiles knowingly.

“You tried to set up Eddie and Richie?” Ben wonders. Beverly sneaks a wink at Ben, “There’s a concert next weekend, right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Think you could get us three more tickets?”

“Sure?”

~~~

Beverly walked into to her and Ben’s room, grinning. “Are you gonna explain why you’re so happy?” Ben asks.

“We’re gonna get Richie and Eddie together.”

Ben gives an unsure look at her, “Richie’s going back to dating with this vinyls-on-trains thing he’s doing. Are you sure you want to set him up? You know how unhappy he is about love and stuff, its surprising enough that he’s willing to try again.”

Beverly takes a moment to think. She knows Ben is right, but she also knows that this will be good for both Eddie and Richie. Well, the second one, she isn’t so sure of. “I guess,” Beverly says, slightly disheartened, “but, we could ask them and, y’know, try?” She says hopefully.

“As much as I worry about this, I also think that it could be good. We’ll take them both to the concert and see where they go from there. What do you think?”

“Perfect,” Beverly smiles.

#reddie #reddie fic #it #it chap one #it chap two #remembering Sunday + The book ninja au

[crockettmarcel]

Okay I’ve been studying for hours but now I have time to send some asks so! I really love the punk AU can you elaborate on punk!Reesker and their baby punk lolly 🥺 any thoughts or hcs or anything -punksarahreese

i hope your studying went okay !!!

okay so for context - sarah’s mom doesn’t rlly love her that much, and she does as much as she can to get out of spending time with her daughter which uh. sucks for sarah

anyway then sarah announced that she wanted to move to chicago, and her mom (rich and doesn’t want to see her) basically just bought her a house and told her to rent the rooms out, and that the rent as well as whatever she was making as a tattoo artist should be enough for her to live off

sarah’s mom: here’s a house. you can make money from it. please don’t talk to me ever again <3

and like. it’s a good enough arrangement but at the same time sarah wishes her mom cared about her more, and she’d give up the house and all the shit her mom’s bought for her if it meant that she actually had a relationship with her

anyway so sarah’s renting out rooms to connor, crockett, april, and ava, and after a couple of months sarah and crockett started hooking up, which then turned into an actual relationship (ava’s rlly :( about this bc she’s lowkey whipped for sarah)

a year into their relationship, crockett left to go on tour with his band for a few months, and he left his phone behind so no one could contact him bc he wanted to Feel The Music (clown behaviour) 

he gave sarah his leather jacket before he went, and even though it was way too big on her, she wore it every day 

a couple of weeks before he was due back, sarah found out she was pregnant, and she was really !!! bc she knew crockett would be so so happy when he got back and found out 

and then he didn’t come back! 

sarah kept trying to convince herself that he would, but a few months passed and she just accepted that he wasn’t 

she moved his stuff up to the attic and started renting his room out to lanik (not punk but the rent’s cheap and the house is in a good location) 

ava’s been supporting sarah through everything, and they slowly started getting closer (much to ava’s delight) until suddenly they were inseparable, to the point where ava was spending every night in sarah’s bed with her 

they never really talked about it, but it was obvious there was something more there than just friendship 

ava was so good with lolly when she was born, and she did so much to look after her and help sarah

then when lolly was around 3/4 months old, crockett came back :) 

sarah was Pissed, and she told him he needed to find somewhere else to live because she wasn’t going to kick jimmy out 

it took a few weeks for her to calm down enough to let him see lolly properly, and he was obsessed with her from day one 

sarah and ava don’t really trust him, not after the way he completely disappeared for a year without even calling to say why, but at the same time lolly Is his baby, and sarah feels bad keeping her from him

he likes taking her to stuff with his band - rehearsals, recordings etc - and she sits there in her little baby seat and watches everything he does

when she’s a bit bigger, he sits her on his lap and lets her try playing the drums, which she loves !!

also all the adults in her life have tattoos (sarah managed to convince lanik to let her tattoo him) so she thinks that people get drawings on them when they grow up

she always asks sarah and ava when she’s going to get pictures on her arms, and they laugh and tell her she has to wait until she’s a grown up

they get her loads of temporary tattoos tho, esp frozen ones, and she’s so happy with them bc she’s like her mommies !!!

she’s a lot closer with sarah and ava than she is with crockett bc she spends way more time with them, but he’s trying really hard to build up a good relationship with her

there’s more i think but this is getting long ajskhdsjkd so i might make another post specifically about punk lolly bc she’s an angel and i love her

#chicago med #sarah reese #ava bekker #crockett marcel #tiny love!au #punk!au #it's about the telling crockett to go fuck himself #and wearing big stompy boots and studded leather jackets #also dyed hair #lolly tag

[connorxrose]

Welcome to Aurora Bay, [CONNOR ROSE]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [ANDREW GARFIELD]. You must be the [THIRTY-SIX] year old [TATTOO ARTIST AT CRESCENT MOON TATTOO SHOP]. Word is you’re [COMPASSIONATE] but can also be a bit [GRUMPY] and your favorite song is [YOU'RE GONNA GO FAR, KID BY THE OFFSPRING]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [OCEAN CREST APARTMENTS]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

LINKS

stats

wanted connections

playlist

pinterest

ABOUT CONNOR

astrology:

sagittarius ☀, aquarius ☾, scorpio ↑

traits:

grumpy, blunt, anxious, upbeat, loyal, compassionate, contradicting, easily-irritated, hopeless romantic (mostly hopeless), sarcastic, pretentious, wise, passionate, destructive, open-minded 

aesthetic:

beanies, rooftop talks, halloween forever, cigarette ash, hidden knitting needles, too honest, bike rides, police’s backseat, compassion, responsibly irresponsible, buzz of a tattoo gun, stubborn heart, holes in shoes, undefined, out of step in line, too many tattoos, your best friend or worst enemy.

BIOGRAPHY

[ tw: abandonment, police, anxiety ]

Home was just a word Connor Rose never fully understood. Was it a person, a place, or a just feeling you’ll never get back? He never knew. Born and raised in the Aurora Bay area in California, Connor was your typical troubled kid growing up in the system. He spent most of his time in group homes in the area and got in trouble just as often as he could. The police officers in the neighborhood all knew him by name, and though he charmed his way out of real trouble most days, he was known as the kid who went around tagging buildings. Art was an outlet for him, and of course it was more fun to utilize those skills in an illegal manner.

Connor struggled not having a family of his own, especially with how often the kids around him came and went. He picked up hobbies throughout his younger years to keep his emotions at bay. Between doodling in composition books, playing the drums, and even… knitting, he kept himself distracted most days. But that need to find his family was still always there. When he was seventeen years old, he used the savings he had built up to find his birth mother. Connor snuck away from the group home and managed to get him all the way to New York City where he would finally meet his mother - Marie Rose. He built up an idea in his head of how it would go down and what her reaction would be, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. Instead of accepting him, telling him how much of a mistake it was to give him up, she wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, she was distraught and nearly offended he tracked her down. She turned him away and left Connor to finally truly realize that he was alone. There was no such thing as home.

There was a light of hope that went out that day within Connor. He grew a bit colder, a little more pessimistic than usual. He hit the drums harder and lived without a path. Once he graduated from high school, by pure miracle, he took up a job at a tattoo shop. In the beginning, he was just the receptionist. It was enough to get him by as he found himself living at an old three-story home that was converted into a small apartment complex for only a few tenants. The people who lived there became his small little family, the closest thing to home he ever had. Connor found himself struggling to connect deeply with others, that fear of abandonment always there in the back of his head. His own struggles with anxiety didn’t help the case, either. His anxiety grew so complex throughout the years that even driving a car felt too much to handle. Connor rode his bike everywhere around the city and also relied on the bus. The only solace he had was the family he built, tattooing, and playing music.

Now in his thirties, Connor still struggles but hides it well. He moved away from the little apartment he once had and now works full time at Crescent Moon Tattoo as a tattoo artist. People enjoy his company, even with his grumpy demeanor. He has a careless attitude, though he cares a little too much on the inside. When life is too much to handle, Connor normally retreats to his new apartment and secretly continues to knit (though he’ll deny it always). Though he may be a music and film snob at times, his caring heart comes out whenever he volunteers at the group homes he grew up in. If he had the money, he would’ve gone to school to be a social worker so he could take care of kids like him. He makes up for that by spending most weekends hanging out and mentoring troubled teenagers that remind him of himself. Connor also is the drummer of a local indie band that he created with a good friend. They have no intention of ‘making it big’ and prefer to play smaller shows whenever time allows. Connor focuses on all these things that make him happy - art, music, and helping the youth. If he didn’t, he’d be too lost wondering what the hell his purpose was and why nothing ever felt like home.

HEADCANONS

Connor plays the drums in a local indie band called “swell.” with Chey Johnson. Playlist can be found here. He also occasionally plays drums for a number of different bands who need a drummer.

Connor was originally in a band called “Submergence” before “swell.” He left the band at the height of the lead singer’s substance abuse issues. The band has since grown in success and he can’t help but be a little bitter towards it all.

He knits a lot in his free time and treats it as if it’s a deep dark secret.

The man sabotages most relationships he has simply because he has a fear of abandonment. He pushes someone before they can push him.

He is a Halloween and horror movie FANATIC. October is his favorite month and he treats Halloween how most people treat Christmas.

Connor has a lot of tattoos, most are traditional style tattoos showing his favorite horror movies - scream, the shining, and some others.

He’s been called an ‘emo hipster’ and an 'emo indie’ before, which he denies… but it kind of sums him up. Half of his music has some older emo vibes to it, and the other half is indie music. He’s the type to freak out because you never heard of a band, even if the band is a local indie band that barely anyone knows. He’s somewhat of a music snob. Forgive him. He also dresses pretty “indie” but a more laid back version.

He’s really into film (not just horror movies). He loves Wes Anderson movies and anything by Taika Waititi and David Lynch. One of his bandmates is a filmmaker and he often dips his toes into that world with her.

Connor was influenced at a young age by the women around him. He’s a pretty big feminist and not afraid to stick up for things he believes in. Due to the culture he was raised in, he’s extremely accepting of all people. It’s probably his biggest redeeming trait.

Connor often has this 'fuck everything’ attitude, yet cares deeply. He bounces from being grumpy to being the life of the party. There’s no way to pin down his personality completely.

Having a cigarette late at night with someone and talking about life is probably one of his favorite things in the world.

to be added….

#aurorabay.intro

[austencello]

Present Tense - Arrow Music Notes 8x04

Worlds collide as the future Team Arrow are brought into the present. All of the team members wrestle with what happened in the future and whether it can be changed as Oliver seeks to know his kids, now adults, in the knowledge that he was not there for them due to his death.

Oliver, Mia, and William

The opening scene is heart-breaking as everyone is in various states of shock.  As William hugs Oliver and he recognizes his children, a broken up version of the slow Arrow theme plays in the piano. This is played in many intimate, emotional moments for Oliver, but to have it play three notes at a time emphasizes the shock and depth that this goes.  As they all try to make sense of it all, a theme plays, originally from 7x10 in guitar harmonics over high strings and a synth shimmer.  This theme was used three times in the future for regrets by the older members (Dinah, Rene, Felicity) and how they disappointed or failed each other and the kids.  Dinah reminding Rene that they had promised to be there for each other, Zoe asking Rene what happened to the hero she remembers, and most importantly, Felicity admitting to William that they made a mistake that she will always regret in not bringing him back home (7x21).  All the emotions of regret, loss, abandonment are present for the kids as Zoe just had died, Mia and William are seeing their dead father, and Connor is trying to connect with a Dad who doesn’t know who he is.  Oliver tells the team that they had a daughter named Mia and that these are his kids.  It is a theme of mistakes and a call to second chances.  Future electronics play as the Future Team Arrow realize that they are in the past.

Oliver takes the kids to the old apartment only to find out that William and Mia never grew up together.  As he hears this, violins play the opening part of “Everyone Left” (5x02).  This theme was also used in 7x22 as Felicity, William and Mia were looking at Oliver’s gravestone before Felicity leaves. Mia grew up without a father and William never saw again after he left at age 13.  For Oliver to hear that the sacrifice he has been making and will make results in this separation breaks his heart and Mia is not willing to forgive him easily for abandoning them. For in this case, it was Oliver who left.  After Mia goes to her room, Oliver plans on calling Felicity with guitar harmonics play a new melody as William warns that they should figure out what is going on with their time travel situation. Oliver reconnects with William as he shares that he is a tech mogul and comes out while strings play underneath, turning to a happier major resolution with Oliver’s response to William’s coming out.  The guitar harmonics play again as William promises that Mia will come around, hinting at how similar she is to Oliver.  What I love about the new melody is that it uses one of Oliver’s instruments and the opening two notes of “Big Mistake,” their melody throughout the series when William is a kid.  It makes sense that they would have a new one with William as an adult but beginning the same.  This melody returns later in the episode as William tells Oliver that he needs to push harder with Mia and that he wished Oliver had done the same when he chose to live with this grandparents. He wanted him to try harder.

Mia had her own moments with Oliver including letting out all her feelings about how he abandoned her to be a hero as he stood in her way to prevent her from going by herself to check out information while impatient and emotional. Guitar harmonics play a repeated upward 4-note pattern “Everyone Left” (5x02) (used throughout the seasons, often in strings, guitar, harp) over strings and the scene is punctuated with toms (drums) to add tension to the scene especially as she threatens to fight him.  The strings play his slow Arrow theme as she leaves and he is left hurt and frustrated.

Later on, Oliver and Mia fight side by side against Grant Wilson and some of his Deathstroke gang.  As they do so, Mia’s Blackstar theme plays in the violins and electric guitar (7x08).  In the end, Oliver stops her from killing Grant as violins and the drums (toms) accompany the scene.  Again, the drum punctuation help to emphasize and heighten the tension as Oliver stood in front of Mia’s arrow, stopping her from killing.  The ascending violin pattern begins with the first two thirds that is in the melody in 7x16 when Felicity reunited with William and Mia.  The order is different and it continues up but I love the possibility that the tension that Mia has with both her parents being vigilantes and choosing heroism over her family (and her) comes to a head in a new way with a similar theme.  In 7x16 she refused to join Felicity’s crusade to save Star City, still angry with her mom, and here she is thwarted in vengeance for Zoe by her father that she never knew.  But Oliver is able to reach her and to stop her from following through, to become more of a hero.  

Later on, Oliver shows Mia his father’s grave, bringing it all full circle to unknown fathers and how to live with guilt.  The slow Arrow theme returns in strings with harp playing the pattern the guitar harmonics played earlier in their fighting scene as she asks whether the guilt will go away.  Horn (used for heroism) plays the first half of the Arrow theme as Oliver answers that he can help her deal with it even though it never fully leaves.

The Rest of the Team

Throughout the episode, different motifs and soundscapes return with returning characters or important interactions starting with the electronic descending Deathstroke motif “Deathstroke” (1x05) once the Deathstroke mask is shown after the bomb in the hospital.  

Curtis returns to the lair and team with his electronic motif: two alternating notes that reminded me of a T-sphere “New Tech” (4x03).  Oliver asked Curtis to help find a way to stop a god (the Monitor) as hammered dulcimer (one of Oliver’s instruments) plays in unison with harp.  It’s a cool little theme that may return later as things unfold trying to stop the Monitor.

The future Team Arrow try to stop the Deathstroke gang and end up in a trap.  After they were rescued, they share the horrible news of everything that happens in the future, such as JJ being a leader of the Deathstrokes.  As Connor shares this to John, a repeated electronic noise (almost like a chirp) plays over strings but stops as Williams tells them how horrible Star City becomes and what happens to Zoe. Drum rolls and percussion begin as Rene hears this news. The drums continue over harp for tension (in a similar way that it did for Oliver and Mia) as Rene and John are in shock and yell at each other about hearing what happens to their kids, while John suggests that maybe they can change things now.  Connor follows John and shares that he believes that he stole their love from JJ and that it is his fault while piano and strings play (the same instrumentation used for Diggle and his brother Andy in Season 4).  Diggle’s horn motif plays as he tells Connor that all he has done is lie to him and leaves.  He doesn’t know Connor and he just heard that his son becomes a murderer, following in the path of his brother.

Rene and Dinah try to process what will happen to Zoe as current Zoe is present joking about ice cream.  While Rene asks Dinah how he is supposed to deal with knowing how long she will live, “Rene’s Loss” (5x13) plays.  This theme was used for their separation in Season 5 with foster care and most recently, Zoe’s death. Dinah then talks to John about his family as he shares that he blames himself in seeing family patterns repeated as horn (one of his main instruments) plays. Dinah tells him that they have seen their worst and now to be their best.

At the end, Diggle reaches out to Connor, telling him that he is part of his family while the Diggle theme plays in the piano, a lovely combination of family instrument with his honorable hero theme (usually in electric bass or horn).  Rene gives a speech to the Glades “We make our future now” with strings, harp and higher electronics and horn is added while watching the Diggle boys spar.

The episode ends with a return of the Monitor and his themes (solo violin, choir, string theme) as he tempts Laurel to betray Oliver in order to have her world returned.

Extra Notes:

- I probably rewatched the opening scene a million times before I could actually pay attention to the music.  I kept being distracted by all the emotions.

- Today happens to be the last day of filming for Arrow.  It’s a bit surreal to look back at the journey of these characters and for myself immersing myself into the music for over 4 seasons.  Thanks to all who continue to read these and for those who are newer starting to enjoy them.  

@smoakmonster​ @herskirtsarentthatshort​ @academyofshipping​ @dmichellewrites​ @dust2dust34​ @ah-maa-zing​ @almondblossomme​ @jorahandal​ @green-arrows-of-karamel​ @withgraceandlight99​

#arrow music notes #arrow 8x04 #oliver queen #mia smoak #william clayton #john diggle #rene ramirez #connor hawke #dinah drake #future team arrow

[whumptasticwednesday]

Insult to Injury ft. Dadneto (Peter Maximoff - X-Men)

Author’s Note: Hey, ya’ll. I’ve been burning the midnight oil to get this fic out on time, AKA 2 consecutive nights of staying up till’ 3 am. I’ve had the idea for a Peter-centric Dadneto whump fic for a decent amount of time, and after receiving a lovely anonymous prompt, I decided to incorporate both my idea and theirs. Here we’ve got Peter after the events of Apocalypse, debilitated, and accidentally giving himself a nasty case of salmonella, before Erik comes to help. I’m pretty proud of this one, so I hope you enjoy it! This fic is unedited, sorry, so please let me know if there’s any glaring issues. For my next fic, I’m shifting away from X-Men for a hot sec so I can write a nice Detroit: Become Human whump fic with our favorite android son, Connor. I’ve been super excited about my plot concept, so I’m ecstatic to start writing it. Anyways, I hope you like this one, I worked very hard on it, and I hope you’re all excited for the DBH fic coming soon!

-Ash

Word Count: 6299

Warning: Emeto and decently graphic descriptions of physical illness

Setting: Post-Apocalypse/Pre-Dark Phoenix

If there's anything Peter Maximoff knew in this moment, it was that not being able to do the one thing your body was genetically enhanced to do, sucked. A lot.

It had been only a few days since the X-Mansion had been rebuilt and things all fell back into this synonymous routine as if the entire building hadn't exploded a short while ago. In Peter's opinion, it was all kind of creepy how easy it seemed for these kids to all just go back to learning when their home and school just got eviscerated in a hellfire, but he didn't think much of it.

All he could think about in this moment, was how immensely bored he was. Peter always had something going on with him; he was either thinking about his impending dad-related issues, plotting a prank, or deciding to go off and steal an entire Walmart's worth of Twinkies in the blink of an eye, there was always something.

Yet now, the rest of the X-Men were off with Charles helping cover up heat from the international press by cleaning up all the damage and destruction in Cairo and showing what Charles had dubbed: "diplomacy", which was too huge of a word for Peter to ever use in an everyday sentence; too many letters, and Peter was left back at the mansion since he really couldn't use his powers effectively at the moment, so it would be pretty useless for him to be tagging along.

Peter normally wouldn't have given a damn, maybe even excited at the prospect of being able to rig his friends' rooms with elaborate traps with Jello and staplers or something of the sorts while they weren't around, yet now, when faced with inescapable boredom that followed him wherever his broken leg did (everywhere), he was dying to have anything to do. As the team was suiting up to get on the jet to go back to Cairo, Peter had pathetically hobbled down to the X-Men bunker on his crutches, begging to be taken with. But they'd simply gassed up the plane and flew off, leaving Peter alone, and oh so very bored.

Which brings us to Peter now, attempting to create an omelette with 6 different cheeses, 8 different and poorly-diced peppers, a heaping assortment of minced tomatoes, and a sprinkling of those off-brand fruit snacks that are always better than the on-brand ones for some reason. It wouldn't be a Peter breakfast without some form of sweet, and in his eyes, it stuck to the healthy-ish theme. It had fruit in the name for a reason, didn't it?

The kid always had a massive appetite, and everyone that knew Peter knew this as well. You'd be hard pressed to find him without some snack or form of sustenance in his hand, scarfing it down like there was no tomorrow. It was all a byproduct of his enhanced metabolism. All that energy to run had to come from somewhere, didn't it? Little did he know, this super stomach of his would come to kick him in the ass in a few short hours. But for now, the silver-haired man child of a mutant was limping around the mansion's kitchen making a very... exotic breakfast for dinner meal.

Peter plopped the strange looking (decently gooey) excuse for an omelette into a large plate with some Twinkies and orange juice on the side. As he devoured his dinner, Peter thought anxiously about Erik. It had taken him 10 years to connect the dots, work up the courage, and even think of confronting the man to tell him of his true parentage, yet wimped out at the last minute, leaving the ambiguous: "I'm here for my family too." Peter groaned audibly to himself as his mind once again replayed the events he'd already replayed a million times before. It was embarrassing as all hell. Luckily, nobody that did know told Erik anything, which Peter was very grateful for.

Imagine learning about a woman you left 2 and a half decades ago actually birthing a son you had no idea existed and just now learned of... but not from him, despite several encounters beforehand where he had ample opportunities to do so. It'd make Peter feel like even more of a loser than a 27 year old who still lived in his mother's basement. But, to be fair, Peter was no longer a grown man living with his mom, he was a grown man living in a school where he was many years past the oldest enrolled student, while not teaching a single class; it was a step up from the basement, trust me.

Once finished with his omelette, Peter quickly washed his dishes and made his trek up the small flight of stairs to reach his room on the second floor. Over the past few days, Peter had learned just how high a set of stairs could be, especially when you end up falling down them on several attempts to slide down the handrail (and failing miserably while being laughed at by dozens of impressionable pre-teen children.) What a loser.

After reaching his room, particularly winded from this dinner excursion, Peter was grateful to see that he hadn't unplugged his television from the wall after his embarrassing fall in an attempt to get to the bathroom by himself, without his crutches, or the lights on. A simple recipe for disaster in nearly all circumstances, yet for some reason, the universe held pity for Peter and his debilitated state, and decided to not make his day any worse than it already was.

Peter ultimately decided to entertain himself with a good night-long play session of Pac-Man on his Atari 2600, also still miraculously undamaged from last night's fall. He booted up the inferior version of the game (seriously though, he'd have to get Kurt to help him teleport his arcade cabinet from his basement to the school, playing this one was getting a bit tiring on the eyes.) It sufficed, he thought as the TV harshly flashed on.

Now normally, Peter would have been up all night with his video games and rock music blaring in the background, yet tonight, something (besides his immobile leg) felt really off. Each distinct 'WOMP' from the console as the yellow circle man consumed the dashes and dots felt like a sledgehammer into Peter's eardrums, leaving a resonating ache at the base of his skull. He didn't think much of it and brushed it off, simply turning down his music a notch and backing away from the TV a few inches.

The next confusing sign that something wasn't quite right was the disconcerting shivers wracking his body. A chilly breeze seemed to sweep the room as if the AC was on full blast with the windows open on a November midnight, yet it was July and all the windows were closed and when he went to check if his AC unit was acting up, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. That's whack, Peter thought to himself as he plopped onto his bed, Atari abandoned on the rugged floor.

He didn't know how long he spent staring at the unmoving chandelier hanging lamely from the ceiling, but it felt as if seconds later, the room was not only freezing, but spinning, and suffocating. Everything felt way too close. Peter could feel every fiber of his shirt rubbing against his jacket, the itchy inside of his cast pressing up against the entirety of his right leg, and the presence of his goggles resting on his neck, now seeming like a noose closing in on his throat. He hastily tore off the eyewear and tossed them on his nightstand before deciding to shed his jacket and weakly throwing it across the room. Another move he regretted.

Without the jacket to keep his arms warm, the newfound seemingly frosty atmosphere felt like a icy flurry against his skin. In spite of his mind's confused wishes, Peter ripped the heavy blanket off the end of the bed and closed it around himself like a caterpillar ready to emerge as a butterfly the next time it saw the daylight. Peter sure as hell didn't feel like a caterpillar, but if the feeling of metamorphosis was a growing sense of intense nausea and cramping in the stomach, then hell yeah, he was crushing this butterfly business.

Fuck, what's wrong with me?! He thought to himself as he rolled onto his side. Peter rubbed at his eyes, hoping to clear the dizziness, yet only further irritating them. God damnit, he sighed internally as his face scrunched up in discomfort, releasing one of his hand's hold on the blanket to cradle his aching stomach.

"Is this karma for all that shit I stole when I was younger? That's just mean, man," Peter rasped to nobody in particular. He thought about it more though and responded to his own question, "Then again, I think that's pretty fair. Haha...Shit, man. Never thought I'd say this, but I think... I think I need help."

The sledgehammer-like headache was pounding with every bass drum beat lightly emanating from the sound system Peter hadn't turned off, another move he regretted. He couldn't decide if the pros outweighed the cons: hobbling through the dark to possibly remedy a source of his suffering, but relinquishing his hold on the only thing keeping him from feeling like freezing. Peter played it safe, much to his cranium's dismay.

Peter stared off towards the wall at nothing in particular as he tried oh so hard to draw his mind's focus from how terrible he felt to literally anything else. It wasn't working out so well. And so, Peter laid there, blanket tossed over himself, single leg drawn up to his chest, shivering like a leaf in a rainstorm, as nauseous as a toddler who just rode their first roller coaster, feeling like he was about to cry, and alone. What a miserable way to spend the night.

------

If there's anything Erik Lehnsherr knew in this moment, it was that he was beyond irritated that Charles wasn't at the mansion to run his own school. Despite leaving the school once he'd helped rebuild it to try and seek solitude to wrap his mind around his place in the world and everything that'd happened to him, Erik was back at the mansion once again. He was ready to lay down the foundations for his new mutant hideaway, Genosha, and needed Charles's connections to the government to help smooth over his charges and get clearance to have his isolated society where he might truly find happiness and solace. The universe had spoken, and he obviously wasn't cut out to be a nuclear family kind of guy.

Unbeknownst to him, Erik had once again meandered into a setting with his unrealized son. Also unbeknownst to him, that son was currently cooped up alone in his room, feeling like death.

Erik uncomfortably paced around the mansion, checking Charles's office, the X-Men bunker, and all the other places he might have been, yet the telepath was nowhere to be found. Erik sighed, he knew coming this late was a bargain, one, it turns out, he'd come to lose. The school itself was eerily quiet. It was if the entire mansion was empty or something. Peaceful, yet unsettling for a man who knew nothing but chaos.

Erik was about to borrow a book someone had abandoned in the foyer when he heard the muffled melodies of American rock music echoing from the upstairs floor. It must be that problematic Peter child, Erik thought to himself. From what he told himself was a civil duty to the rest of the sleeping kids in the school (but was actually his own way to cope with his curiosity) Erik decided to check up on the snarky young man to ask if he'd turn down the tunes.

As he approached the door, Erik was bracing himself for something extremely untamed. Perhaps a messy, greasy slophole of a living area, or maybe a drunk and uncontrollably obnoxious man dancing to his music in the nude. You never really knew with Peter, and Erik had come to expect the strangest out of the boy from the few genuine interactions they've had.

Erik gently tapped his knuckles against the door, waiting patiently for a 'come in', or something along the lines of those words, yet it never came. Raising a questioning yet not too surprised eyebrow, Erik knocked again, using slightly harder bangs, not wishing to make a ruckus and wake anyone else in the hallway up. Again, nothing. Although it could have simply boiled down to Peter not hearing him from his loud and abhorrent music, Erik was growing slightly irritated with the lack of a response. So with his last reserves of patience, he knocked one final time, once again listening for a signal or cue to enter. He was met with nothing yet again.

Wondering for the worst and fully expecting to meet a blackout drunk Peter when he opened the door, Erik tentatively jiggled the doorknob, which just so happened to be unlocked, and stepped inside. Thankfully, he was not met with a naked dancing or woefully drunk mutant speedster, but most would probably argue that what he was met with was quite worse. And that being a rancid stench of sick and sour nastiness lingering in the air, a poorly plopped pile of blankets draped over the culprit of the odor, and the culprit himself lying pale and flushed on the floor beside his bed, covered in his own vomit.

Erik's nose crinkled up from being met by the strongly nauseating smell of the room, reaching for the light switch on the wall to aid the sad little table lamp and glow of the TV in illuminating the room. Now he truly saw the pity-worthy situation for what it was. Peter laid in a heap on the ground next to his bed; he'd clearly trying to make it to the en suite bathroom just a few feet away. However, with his dizzy mind and immobile leg, he didn't make it very far and ended up expelling his dinner in a much less... dignified location (if you could consider a toilet bowl a very dignified location), that undignified location being all over his lap and onto his faded Pink Floyd t-shirt.

Not knowing how to really handle the situation, Erik called out a soft, "Peter?" hoping to elicit a response. Yet, just like at the door, he was met with nothing. As he approached the boy, thoughts of anxiety and panic circled through his mind. What would he say to him when he woke up? Would he be uncomfortable with Erik of all people coming to help? Would he be confused? Would he not care? He felt undeniably and inexplicably awkward. Erik shook the thoughts from his conscious as he knelt down to try and meet Peter's face.

"Peter?" he asked again. Erik tentatively reached over to tap the boy's face, which was contorted in a pinched expression of discomfort, marred further by the vomit drying in a trail down his chin.

Once Erik's hand made contact with Peter's cheek, he wanted to retract it. From the split second interaction, Erik had felt the clammy, sweaty, and scorching hot skin and was growing concerned. The slight physical prodding finally made Peter respond.

"Mom?" he asked groggily, voice cracking, "I'll put my dishes in the sink in a minute... I'm tired..."

Erik let out a harsh sigh, bending his neck in an attempt to make eye contact with the boy.

"Peter, I'm not you-" Erik was cut off.

"Yeah yeah... I'm not your maid. I know, Ma. Just... give me five."

"Peter." Erik stated bluntly yet with a hint of unease, unsure if Peter was delirious or just messing with him, "look at me, please."

Peter cracked open his eyes and blearily met Erik's stoic and collected face. He blinked a few times, slowly and deliberately, calculating who was kneeling in front of him, before letting out a weak and wheezy chuckle, "hey there, refrigerator ornament. Wassup?"

Erik rolled his eyes, responding with, "I came to ask you to turn down your atrocious music so you won't wake any of the other children who are trying to sleep. When I came in here, you were passed out on the floor. Would you like to explain to me what happened?"

"Nah... it isn't all too interesting"

"Peter, can you please act like an adult for 2 minutes? Please?"

"Oh man, the Nazi-hunting, president-killing, horseman of the Apocalypse is bustin' out the PLEASES. Look out, world, Lord of the Vacation Souvenirs has a new tactic... MANNERS!"

Peter burst out laughing at his own adolescent joke, ending in a wheezy struggle to catch his own breath. Erik couldn't tell if he was just screwing with him or genuinely needed help. This behavior seemed pretty normal for the immature mutant.

"Look, Peter, I really just need to know if you're okay. Can you answer that simple question, please?"

"Man, your tactics are workin' like a charm. I guess I'll tel-" Peter was cut off by a repulsing gag, hunching over and expelling his stomach's contents... again, this time, however, onto Erik's shirt, quickly travelling in a sad trail down onto his freshly-ironed pants. Peter's bloodshot eyes went side with embarrassment as he quickly transitioned his gaze to the floor.

Erik's face was caught frozen still as his mind caught up with what had just happened. As repulsed as he was, it wasn't like he hadn't seen worse. But that still didn't make the fact that he was just puked on any less disgusting. After audibly exhaling through his nose, Erik once again focused on the miserable man child in front of him, who was now anxiously tapping his fingernails on the hard plaster of his cast, deliberately trying to avoid eye contact.

God damnit, Peter, He thought to himself as he continued tapping, it's bad enough leaving him with a painfully ambiguous response during a battle to save all of humanity, ultimately ruining a perfectly good chance to fess up, but now look what you've done. You fucking threw up on him. Peter felt himself growing smaller as his subconscious shamed him for his uncontrollable bout of illness. It was stupid and ultimately all in his head, but it didn't make him feel any less shit about his situation.

After taking the few quiet seconds, Erik stood up, and whether it was out of pity or some subconscious moral quest, grabbed Peter by the armpits and dragged him to the bathroom.

"W-what the?" Peter asked, confused by the harsh white light of the bathroom and the sudden shift in scenery.

"Well I'm not going to let you sit in your own disgusting clothes. I have standards, you know. Can you undress yourself? I'll get us both some clean clothes."

Peter grunted in response. It meant: yeah, I think I can take off my own clothes, bro... once the room stops spinning. Erik, however, had already up and left, stripping off his own soiled shirt and rifling through Peter's dresser drawers, and taking the opportunity to flick off the television and silence the music that had been awkwardly filling the room's background space up until now.

Peter didn't have much variety in his clothing, dark jeans and band logo t-shirts were most of his dresser's arsenal. Not wishing to be clad in a Metallica shirt for the rest of the night, he dug a bit further into the seemingly endless assortment of shirts till he found a plain white short sleeve, sighing in relief. He grabbed a random shirt from the top of the assortment which just so happened to have the Journey logo on it, and set off to find new pants for the boy.

Back in the bathroom, Peter was still laying slumped against the bathtub, shivering. Everything around him had seemingly slowed to a halt, not unlike when he was running past the speed of sound, but this time deceleration just felt... wrong.

The crashing rhythm of the rock music had come to a halt, yet it didn't cease the incessant throbbing ache in his head, as if the bass riffs and the harsh taps of the snare were on a permanent loop with earbuds permanently glued to his ears. He was trying his best to prevent himself from groaning or whining as to not sound like even more of a child in front of Erik, but honestly, he didn't want his nonexistent father right now, he wanted his mom.

Peter was snapped from his self loathing by Erik's footfalls growing progressively louder as he approached him. Erik had thrown on a pair of track pants and a random white shirt. He was holding a pair of sweatpants and another shirt for Peter so he could be free of his sweat-slick and vomit-covered clothes.

"Hey, you don't get to keep those. I like those pants," Peter stated sarcastically, still trying to put up a front, although he was unsure why. He'd needed help, it was painfully obvious, so why was he still pushing his father away? Resentment? Anger? Pride? No... fear.

"Arms up," Erik instructed, preparing to take Peter's shirt off for him.

"Yo, you know I'm not a toddler, right? I can take off my own god damn shirt."

"You sure don't act like you're a day older than one, and I don't wanna risk you accidentally suffocating getting stuck in your own clothing so... arms up."

Peter sighed and did as he was told. Erik swiftly peeled the top off the boy and felt around his back, finding it clammy and warm. As if he'd just went from the tropics to Antarctica, the shirt leaving his skin exposed his skin to a whole new level of cold. The sensation ripped through his spine as his teeth started chattering. Hoping Erik had a brain underneath that skull, Peter was (im)patiently waiting for the man to save him from the frosty winds of his newly installed Arctic bathroom and slip the new shirt over him already. However, much to Peter's dismay, Erik turned on the tub's faucet, soaking a hand towel in cold water before leaning over and placing it on Peter's exposed back.

The second the frigid cloth made contact with his skin, Peter recoiled, back arching backwards, arms frantically bending to try and remove it. Erik sighed, slightly out of pity, and continued holding it down.

"Is this some cruel punishment? What did I do?" Peter pleaded, hoping to distract himself from crying by use of humor.

"You're scorching and sticky and it's just disgusting. I'm cooling you down, so relax," Erik explained. "It'll be a few more seconds, I just needed to get all the sweat off of you."

And as quickly as it had begun, the endeavor was over and Erik was threading Peter's strikingly pale and flimsy arms through the shirt holes. Peter audibly sighed, feeling like he'd just spent an hour in an industrial freezer and was now back into a normal temperature.

Erik's eyes drifted to Peter's legs, immediately noticing a flaw in his plan. How was he going to change Peter's pants with that full leg cast?

"Peter, how do you typically change your pants considering your current... situation?" Erik asked.

"It's pretty simple. I don't," Peter replied bluntly.

"W-what?"

"Well, after I got my leg set a few days ago, I changed into jeans, not wanting to be in flight suit pants for the next week of my life, and I haven't swapped since. It's like, physically impossible."

"So... you've been wearing the same (disgustingly dirty) pants all week?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Hank says I should be grateful that it'll heal in a couple days, most people you'd find passed out on their floor covered in vomit with a full leg cast would have been wearing their nasty pants for weeks."

Erik sighed, tossing Peter's soiled shirt and the sweatpants back into the bedroom before meeting his gaze.

"Alright, Peter, I'm going to set you up in bed now."

"Sounds grea-" Peter was once again, clamping his hand over his mouth, pathetically dragging himself over to the toilet to prevent throwing up all over himself again.

Erik saw his distress and lifted the toilet lid and seat, prompting Peter to start heaving into the sad and dreary porcelain bowl. Each dry or productive heave sent another pulsing wave of pain and violent nausea from his stomach to seemingly every conceivable inch of his body in a viscous cycle of suffering. Erik could do nothing but watch as the silver-haired boy wretched in agony, each heave causing his breath to hitch, caught in his throat, as another bout of sick rushed up past his lips, crashing into the toilet bowl.

Erik wanted to reach over and rub Peter's back or offer a semblance of physical comfort for the anguish he must have been feeling. He'd often do this for his daughter, Nina, whenever she had a stomach bug. Erik reached out his hand, only to quickly retract it, shaking haunting thoughts from his mind. This boy was not his child, and in no way would he ever come close to being Nina. What was he thinking?

Guilt quickly overtook the memories as Peter finished his session of sickness. He sagged limply against the side of the toilet, face still partially hidden by the rim of the bowl. When he looked up at Erik, he looked awful. Beyond awful.

Red-rimmed eyes, clearly there as Peter attempted to stop the obvious tears from spilling over, met cool yet collected ones, the former's being full of pain, not just from this embarrassment or the physical turmoil he'd just endured, but something else. Erik knew those eyes. He knew them because for so long, they were the ones he'd stared at in the mirror, day after day, for years, until he'd found Charles, only to come face to face again with those demonized eyes in the form of an immature mutant puking his guts out on his bathroom floor. They were the eyes of a young man who was lost, feeling alone, hiding a part of themselves they wanted to let go, to set free, so they could truly be happy, yet he couldn't possibly decipher what could be internally destroying the boy.

"I-I'm sorry you had to watch that..." Peter said softly as his head lolled over.

"It's fine," Erik replied with a tone to match that of Peter's.

"I'm pretty sure... that I'm done. For now?" It came out as more of a question, but at this point, Peter wasn't trusting any signal his body was sending him. Every impulse had been smudged and cloudy in his mind, and paired with the seemingly endless headache and the relentless chills racking his body from the fever, Peter was sure that if his mind were a computer hard drive, it would have self destructed out of a deadly virus slowly hacking into the hardware.

But alas, Peter was no computer, and so he was stuck with this mystery illness, cooped up in his room, unable to run, with Erik mother-hecking Lehnsherr. His fever-addled mind was barely functioning at this point, so he didn't register anything but dizzying blurred images swirling around his head and slightly-grumbled voice swimming in his ears as Erik scooped the kid up like a newlywed bride and carried him off to bed.

Peter had never been more grateful to grace the comfort of his duvet, ready to sleep. He halfheartedly grabbed at it in an attempt to cover himself and finally warm up. Erik sighed with pity, grabbing it for him and draping it over his shoulders before moving over to stand by the nightstand and awkwardly watching Peter try and get comfortable.

Despite the obvious fact that his body wanted him to sleep, Peter's mind was racing everywhere except the realm of unconsciousness. Every thought was emphasized ten-fold as it bounced around his head until the only things remaining were his want, heck, his need, to tell Erik the truth, and the hesitant and unsure anxiety lingering in the background of his subconscious that was stopping him from doing just that.

Fevers, though, as Peter was quickly learning, tended to do weird shit to what your brain was really trying to accomplish, often scrambling any message you tried to expel to the point where it may or may not have even been your true intentions. And hell, it was an even bigger gamble if you'd remember any of the dumb shit you'd done or said. It was as if the heat had boiled all the potentially embarrassing memories away, which was at least kinda nice.

With everything happening, Peter thought it best for Erik to just pack up and scoot from the premises, as not to accidentally say or do something stupid that might come back to bite him in the ass later, but Peter wasn't about to pull an asshole move on the man who'd just helped him despite not being obligated to at all.

So, instead of verbally asking, Peter did the next most "mature" thing he could have in his debilitated and helpless situation. He pretended to be asleep in a pathetic hope that Erik would leave on his own. He didn't. Peter ended up looking like he was trying way too hard to be asleep than any real asleep person, and after a few minutes, Erik caught on.

"Peter, I know you're not actually sleeping," Erik said, not putting on any sort of specific emotion.

Peter cracked one red and tired eye open, meeting Erik's gaze yet again. Peter sighed and turned over onto his side, back to the other man, bleary eyes trying to focus on anything that wasn't Erik. Sleep, a seemingly effortless task for most, eluded Peter as he let out an a low whine. This was miserable.

"Hey, Erik?"

"Yes?"

"I umm... never mind..."

"What were you going to say?"

"It's nothing... I just feel stupid since I can't even do the easiest thing on the planet."

"Is there anything I can do?"

The question struck Peter like a cold dagger to the heart, it sounded so much like something his mom would say, who was practically the only person he wanted in that moment. Peter didn't like to be weak or expose any of his fears. He preferred to be distant and reserved, to hide all that insecurity with stupid dry humor and sarcasm. His mom and his sisters were really the only ones who he'd truly been open with, and when faced with these new circumstances, finally able to reconnect with the father he never had, he was frozen in place, and after pushing people away and closing himself off for so long, not knowing what to do to reach out and truly face what he needed to.

Completely internally and externally overwhelmed, Peter let his dam of pride burst, letting his emotional flood pour out of his eyes in the form of earnest, choked sobs. He bit his lip and weakly rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to hide his distress.

Erik was taken aback, taking a step towards him, before backpedaling as fast as the initial paternal instinct had seized him. He didn't know what to do. Erik was conflicted, scared of overstepping boundaries, but wholeheartedly wanting to comfort the clearly suffering boy lying in bed in front of him.

And in a flash of instinct, an unspoken, deep-rooted, yet unknown draw towards the silver-haired boy, Erik sat down on the mattress, back meeting Peter's, and leaning over his shoulder to rub his back

Erik's hand was shaky, unsure if it should truly be there. He felt the heat radiating off Peter's skin through his t-shirt. Erik glanced down further to Peter's face, and despite the hands trying (and failing) to cover his eyes, saw it covered in a new sheen of sweat quickly mixing with his tears, pale and pasty with angry crimson patches sitting pretty as pictures on his cheeks and forehead. Everything in that moment accentuated both how awfully awkward Erik and truly terrible Peter felt.

Erik didn't even know if Peter was lucid anymore. He was breaking down into tears, shivering and being comforted by someone who was practically a stranger. Eventually, the sobs dwindled into whimpers and Erik's nerves were starting to taper off himself. The room fell into a weirdly calm silence as the two decided to not say anything. Until Peter's shaky voice cut through the room.

"Y-you know... when I was a dumb little kid, I thought I-I could outrun germs. Look at me now. I can't even cook a f-freakin' omelette without making myself sick... I never needed to cook for myself, it was always my mom, or Hostess cakes."

"..." Erik wanted to say something, anything, but he was unsure what, or if Peter would understand.

"I can't do anything right... life tosses me chances and I just fuck em' all up."

Erik soon realized Peter was no longer talking about his omelette, but something deeper.

"I just wish... you could've d-done this for me when I was still that dumb little kid. I wish for so much to be different. I'd always wanted a d-dad, and when I finally figured out who he was, I learn he'd gone off to kill the president! I-I don't know..."

"W-what?"

"I m-might not be able to outrun germs, but my entire l-life, I've outrun everything. The law, my responsibilities, adulthood... But now, the one time when I finally can't run from anything, out of all of my problems, I gotta face you of all things. N-not the way I thought this would happen..." Peter's words died out as he fell silent.

Erik wasn't sure he'd heard Peter properly. Until something in his mind clicked. Everything he's done up until now: "my mom once knew a guy who could do that..." and "I'm here for my family too..." Oh my god, he thought, I'm... I-I'm Peter's... father? Who else had he been with before his wife... Magda. Oh god.

Erik pulled his hand away from Peter's back. This caused Peter to moan and flip onto his back, staring directly at Erik, eyes cutting straight to his heart like knives.

"W-why'd you stop? It was nice..." Peter admitted shyly.

"I-I need a second, Peter. I'm sorry," Erik sighed as he pushed himself off the mattress.

Peter said nothing as his eyes drifted back to his bedspread. Disappointment lurking behind his bloodshot irises.

Erik walked off to the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He stared up at himself in the mirror, hands gripped tightly around the basin. This couldn't be happening. Not after Nina, not again. Erik was just... terrified. Terrified of the idea of getting close again. Anyone who's ever been a part of Erik's family... had died. His parents, his wife, his daughter; he didn't want Peter to join the list of people the universe was just deemed to kill. He knew that Peter was far from dying, it was a simple fact that the kid couldn't cook and he'd fed himself something underdone. Yet, it was all happening, it was all too fast, and everything felt so damn scary.

He knew, deep down, that this was the truth. It only made sense that the Magda didn't wanna tell her son that his dad was an internationally targeted terrorist that's murdered dozens of people, and this kid had no reasons to lie about it. God... Erik didn't know how to feel, what he should do, but he did know that had a need to comfort Peter, who'd just confessed a secret he'd been hiding for who knows how long, and was now laying alone, probably feeling abandoned again, after pouring his heart out knowing full well it might be shot down.

Whether it was all intentional was yet to be seen. Again, fevers did weird shit.

Erik let out a low sigh and opened the door, finding Peter curled up on himself as best he could, softly whining, mumbling incoherently to himself. Erik stepped over and sat down on the bed again, the entire mattress dipping from his weight.

"I'm sorry, Peter. I am very happy you told me..." Erik was searching for the right words, "the truth."

" 'r welc'm" Peter mumbled as his puffy eyelids slid over his tired brown eyes.

"Is there anything you need me to do for you right now?"

"J'st... stay please. I-It's embarassin', I know, but I just... my mom used to do it..."

"Alright, Peter. I'm not gonna leave, so just try to sleep, okay?"

Peter didn't need to be told twice as his mind and body worked in harmony, finally allowing Peter to be lulled off to the realm of unconsciousness. And although he knew it wasn't necessary, Erik wished to add to the intimacy of this quiet moment, a type of moment so rare and inconstant in both of their lives, so he pushed himself up against the headboard, laying out flat on the bed, and carded his fingers into Peter's silky silver locks. And out of habit, maybe a sort of tendency he'd developed from doing it with Nina, or an obligation to share what he felt Peter deserved, he began to hum his family lullaby, ever so slowly and softly, drowning out any other thing the world wanted to toss at them. Because in that moment... Erik and Peter had found something they'd both been missing for so long, peacefulness and contentment. And for that short night, it was all they needed.

#xmen fanfiction #xmen #peter maximoff #peter maximoff whump #sickfic #whump #whumptasticwednesdayfic #dadneto #Erik Lehnsherr #michael fassbender #evan peters #quicksilver #hurt/comfort #hurtfic #illness #injury #x men apocalypse #x men dark phoenix #marvel fanfic #fanfiction #peter maximoff fanfiction #whumpfic #pietro maximoff

[janelevy]

Prompt: Connor's sister Claire, wanting to meet Ava for dinner

i did my best to keep claire in character, but with what little we’ve seen of her (i’m almost positive the med writers forgot connor has a sister after s1), i don’t think it’ll be a big deal if she is or not. enjoy!

It wasn’t often that Ava found herself nervous, but she couldn’t deny the fizzy feeling in her stomach as she walked into the restaurant. She got there extra early to give herself time to mentally prepare and to make sure she would be the first one there. She walked up to the hostess stand and after she was seated, told the hostess that she was expecting someone else in about twenty minutes. She let them go ahead and pour two glasses of water, the ice cubes clinking way too loud and ringing in her ears. Then she ordered herself a dry martini to start off because this was definitely going to be a long dinner.

“Claire’s really sweet when you get to know her,” Connor had assured her when he told her about the “date” he set up for his girlfriend and his probably equally unwilling sister. “She just, you know, still kind of hates my guts.”

In response to that, Ava had tilted her head and scowled at him. “No, really? And you think she’ll be delighted to meet the doctor who let her father die?”

Connor’s face hardened and became completely serious after that. He stepped closer to her in the empty doctors’ lounge and pulled her into a tight embrace. A million years ago Ava would’ve been embarrassed by the action, but any of their colleagues who might walk by had witnessed enough of their PDA to not even bat an eyelash at it anymore. 

“Hey,” he’d said firmly, leaning back, making eye contact, and resting his hands on her shoulders. “Avey, you know none of that was your fault. Nobody knew that heart implant was a faulty product, least of all you. You wouldn’t have installed it if you knew what would happen.”

“Yes, but he was still under my care and--”

“It happened in the middle of the night during a shift change. You and I were at home and fast asleep. What could’ve been done?” Connor didn’t wait for a reply, which was wise because it didn’t give her room to object again. “Nothing. What happened, happened. It’s in the past. And Claire knows that too.”

Ava sighed. She really wished he would be able to come with her to dinner tonight, but he had traded shifts with another doctor so now he would be working through the night. Ava almost wanted to accuse him of trading shifts on purpose so he could avoid possible fallout between her and Claire at dinner, but then again, she had seen how exhausted Connor was when he got home last night hours after her. The emergency surgery he’d been called into ended up lasting forever. Needless to say, he deserved to sleep in this morning. It just sucked that the only time she would really see him today was right then in the lounge as she was leaving and he was coming in.

Ava was still mulling over this when she noticed Claire Rhodes herself sitting down across from her at the small table. Ava gulped and played with the end of the white silk tablecloth. Damn, Claire was almost ten minutes early. Ava wasn’t ready to talk to her yet, she still needed to think about what she would say! She wasn’t nervous just because of what happened to Cornelius - she also felt the need to impress her boyfriend’s little sister and earn her stamp of approval. But it seemed like the odds were already stacked against her.

“Hello. Ava, right?” Claire smiled and held out her hand for Ava to shake.

Ava took it and nodded, plastering what she hoped was a friendly, relaxed expression on her face. (It probably wasn’t.) “Hi, Claire. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.” Claire gave the waiter her drink order and took a tiny sip of water. “So how have you been? Must be hectic sharing a place with my brother.”

“It’s... not too bad. He’s a bit of a snorer, though.”

They both laughed, and Ava felt her heart shed one layer of jittery nerves. So far, so good.

“That reminds me - I remember when Connor and I were really little, before he left, he would...” Claire paused there, and Ava’s heart jolted a little. Before he left. Connor had relayed to her a while ago about how hurt Claire was when he escaped Chicago and left her with their less than affectionate single father. Apparently she had still never completely forgiven him for it. Privately Ava wondered if Claire even liked working at the family department store.

Then she continued, “... he would, uh, always invite me to play racecars with him. We’d put our little matchbox cars out on the floor and drag them around. Carlotta would always scold us for marking up the fancy rug. But the sound effects Connor used to mimic racecar noises - I’ll never forget it.” She chuckled and went on, “For some reason he would use his nose instead of his mouth, and snort like a pig, which didn’t sound anything like a revving engine. I think he did it on purpose to make me laugh.” 

Again, the two of them laughed. Ava was amazed she had gotten a childhood story, however brief and innocent, out of Claire within the first ten minutes. Still, she couldn’t help but think about the underlying tone behind Claire’s words. That pause was really only a few seconds, but it had felt like hours. It was long enough for Ava to receive the message that relations between the siblings were still far from resolved. It wasn’t any average brother-sister relationship, and it was definitely something Ava would never be able to fully understand as an only child.

She and Claire continued talking, exchanging little anecdotes about Connor. Ava doubted Connor’s goal in getting them to meet was to spend the entire time making fun of him, but that was exactly what they were doing. Not that there was anything wrong with that; besides, it kept things on the light and cheerful side. Cornelius still had yet to come up and Ava was grateful. She was also hearing many little snippets of Connor’s childhood that even he had never told her. It was sweet. As imperfect as life had been growing up for him, especially following his mother’s suicide, Claire was offering her the perspective of the younger sister who had been too little at the time to understand things were amiss - at least, until Connor grew up and left her behind.

It was roughly halfway through the meal when Claire turned the tables on her. As another round of laughs faded, the younger woman sat back in her seat and set her fork down. “You know,” she said, drumming her fingers on the table, “this dinner date wasn’t only Connor’s idea.”

Ava raised her brows slightly and stared at Claire, silently willing her to elaborate. Claire looked back at her, and not for the first time tonight Ava was taken aback by her icy blue eyes - the same blue eyes as her brother’s.

“I suggested meeting you first, actually. The few times each year we actually talk to each other, he always finds a way to work you into the conversation. Eventually it became obvious to me that you weren’t just a coworker, you meant something more to him.” She hesitated, and Ava wanted to say something then, but she didn’t even know where to begin. Luckily Claire filled the silence again with more shocking words. “I... I imagine you must still feel some guilt over what happened with my father. Connor’s father.”

Ava looked down at the cloth napkin in her lap. The food in her stomach was suddenly roiling, and she could feel the sweat dripping down her back under her loose blouse.

“I’m so sorry--” she started, but Claire interrupted.

“No. You don’t have to say it. I- I know you must’ve said it a thousand times by now. It’s not your fault, Ava. I get that now.” Claire sighed. “My father was... well, he wasn’t a perfect man. There are times when I miss him a lot, which might be strange, I don’t know. But now that he’s gone, I’ve begun to realize how important family is, and that I have to try to mend things with Con. So that’s what I’ve been working on. One of the first steps was meeting you. And I like you a lot, Ava. You’re perfect for him.”

Now Ava knew the smile stretching her lips was genuine. “Thank you,” she said, amazed.

“Really,” Claire said. “You complement him in every way, and you contrast him in so many ways, but it works. I was so excited when he told me about proposing--”

This time it was Ava’s turn to interrupt, but she did it by way of choking on her drink. She slammed the glass back down, coughed a couple times until tears were in her eyes, then gasped, “What?”

Claire’s eyes were wide and panicked, the same way Connor’s would get whenever he pissed Ava off. “Oh! Oh my god. I- I did not mean to say that out loud. Sorry!” She gritted her teeth, searching Ava’s face. “But yes, he is planning to...” She trailed off, waving her hands helplessly. “You get the point.”

Ava shook her head. This must’ve been the fiftieth time she was ambushed out of nowhere tonight. She exhaled and smiled to show Claire there was nothing to be upset about. “That’s fine. Seriously. I just... wow, I had no idea. He’s usually terrible at hiding things.”

Claire smirked. “Believe me, I know.” There was a pause, then she shyly asked, “So, what do you think your answer will be?”

“I have a feeling it’ll be yes,” Ava replied, “if he impresses me enough.”

“Knowing Connor, he’ll achieve that.” Claire lifted her glass and clinked it against Ava’s. “A toast to my future sister-in-law. Sorry again about the reveal.”

Ava’s grin stayed strong, and right before she took a drink, she said, “Don’t sweat it. You just made my entire night.”

When Ava woke up the next morning, Connor was in bed next to her, and had probably only been there a half-hour before her alarm went off. She rolled over to face him and was met with a pair of anxious blue eyes. “Well?” he murmured groggily. “How was last night? Was Claire nice?”

“Honey, it was better than you could ever imagine.” Ava kissed his nose and ran a hand over his feathery dark hair. “Now go back to sleep. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

#chicago med #ava bekker #connor rhodes #rhekker #fanfic

[cocochannel00]

Harry and Kids # 15 College Bound

Kids Ages: Connor (18), Rebecca (16), Grayson and Riley (14), Victoria (11), and Casey (6)

Connor is college bond and some family members take it harder than others

“Connor, is this the last box?” you asked your eldest son who had decided it would be smart to procrastinate packing till the last minute.

It was currently 7 am on what would usually be a quiet Saturday morning but with all of the boxes and kids bouncing around the house trying to get Connor’s attention you were on the verge of losing your mind. Harry and you were moving Connor into his college dorm today and to say Harry was taking it hard would be an understatement. He had managed to spend the majority of the night sobbing his eyes out at the thought of his first child leaving home. Don’t get me wrong, Harry was overjoyed with the idea of his son going to college, something Harry never got the opportunity to do, but Harry was accustomed to being the one to leave and now that the tables had turned he didn’t like it.  

“Can we hold him back another year? I mean no harm in that right, might even make him smarter!” he stated while curled up in bed with you last night. You chuckled at his idea.

“Love he was top of his class and he’s going to an amazing school, I don’t think he needs anymore high school” you mentioned as you wiped the stray tears from his eyes.

“He’ll be fine, don’t worry. My college experience was fine and he’s a smart kid. You still have another five kids at home to pester you about help with math homework” you stated as Harry scoffed.

“Please, you and I both know I’m no help with math homework. I know he’ll be ok but I’m going to miss him. I was bad when Gemma left and now that it’s my kid I’m on the verge of a breakdown” he mumbled into your shoulder as he tried to close his eyes and ignore the problem.

You were upset that Connor was leaving you, after all, he had always very much been a momma’s boy and you absolutely loved it. Having Harry always being on tour growing up also helped in this situation as you had gotten so used to him leaving for long tours that having Connor go to college wasn’t as stressful for you. That’s not to say that you didn’t cry in bed because you did (for a good hour after putting the kids to bed). You knew that everything would work out just fine in the end though.

“Mom I can’t find my black leather jacket! You know the one Uncle Mitch gave me last year for Christmas?” Connor screamed from upstairs as he dragged a box into the hallway.

“Honey I don’t know where you put. Check your closet, love” you reply as you begin to search the downstairs part of the house for the jacket.

You had just finished looking through the coat closet near the front door when you saw a black jacket wrapped around one of your little ones. You crept over to the couch where they lay, careful not to wake them up if they were asleep, but what you find instead is more heartbreaking. Under Connor’s leather jacket lies a quietly sobbing Grayson curled up in a ball on the couch.

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” you whispered quietly to the crying boy as you carefully sat down next to him and ran your hands through his curly hair.

“He can’t leave mom, he can’t” he whispered quietly, “Who’s gonna bring me to fun concerts or teach me how to play the drums or- or-or” he continued as sobs continued to come from his mouth.

You wrapped him in your arms carefully as you rocked him back and forth. Grayson and Connor had always been close especially for there love of music. On any given Sunday you could wake up to the two of them blasting Queen and Fleetwood Mac in the kitchen and using all of your frying pans as drums. You knew Gray was going to take it the hardest (although Harry was a close second) but you weren’t expecting it to be this soon.

“Baby, don’t worry he’s going to be back soon. We can always go visit him too, its ok. I’m sure dad would love to teach the drums or him and I can take you to concerts too” you replied back as you pushed his hair away from his forehead.

“It’s not the same though” he sulked as he tried to sniffle the last of his tears.

“I know baby, I know, but we’ll try our best” you stated.

You knew it wouldn’t be the same. Connor always had this livelihood to him that made everyone around him smile, much like Harry. Every time they went to a concert Connor would make the two of them “disguises” so they could join the crowd in the mosh pits and not be recognized. It was one of the few times in which the two of them could just be normal kids and not just “Hary Styles’ sons”.

“Mom, did you find it? I swear I left it in the kitchen or maybe... hey what’s wrong in here” Connor asked quietly as he sees Grayson in your arms, the leather jacket laying on his lap.

Grayson quickly attempted to wipe his tears while mumbling a quiet “nothing”.

“Hey come on now talk to me?” Connor replied as you slowly got up and left the two boys to talk.

You walked out into the driveway to see Harry trying to shove the last box into the trunk of the Range Rover. Praying there was nothing fragile inside as your husband slammed the door shut you carefully wrapped your arms around his back.

“Is that everything?” you mumbled as you placed a kiss to his shoulder. He turned around in your grasp, cradling you to his chest as he placed a kiss to your temple.

“Just missing the Connor” he mumbled back sadly. You squeezed his waist tightly.

“He’s talking with Grayson right now” you whispered as Harry bit his lip nodding his head. He knew how hard it would be for Gray to see his big brother leave.

The two of you made your way back into the house and headed for the kitchen, seeing the other four of your kids sulking at the dining table, each with a bowl of cereal. You kissed each of their heads before picking up Casey and sitting her on your lap.

“Hey, he’s going to be back and visit every once in a while. We’re going up for family’s weekend in a month, it will all work out.” You reassured them as Harry stole a spoonful of cheerios from Victoria’s bowl.

“I know its just going to be weird not having him at home or at school, you know?” Rebecca stated as she swirled her spoon around.

“I know baby but the twins start at the same school as you so you have them. And Connor will always just be a call or a car ride away,” you stated as you nudged Harry with your elbow hoping he would some encouraging words to the conversation.

“Uh yeah... I think... See I felt the same way when Gemma left for college. It was before the band and it had always just been me and her through everything. I remember I cried a lot for a couple of days but then I realized that it would all be ok. She came back for holidays and things and it was like she never left” He said just as Connor and Grayson walked back into the room.

“Ok, I’m ready when you two are. Come on guys I want a hug before I leave” Connor announced as he opened his arms.

Victoria was the first to give him a hug, followed by a crying Rebecca and Riley who’s eyes had begun to water. They each gave him a quick hug before Casey wiggled out of your arms and rushed to Connor, tears starting to stream down her face. The sight before you made your eyes water. This had definitely been the hardest goodbye for your kids. As Connor whispered something in Casey’s ear, making her giggle, Grayson came up to you and wrapped his leather jacket covered arms around your waist. You gave him a squeeze before placing a kiss to his forehead and slowly rubbing your hands up and down his back.

“Alright bud we should probably head out, don’t want to get caught into much traffic” Harry stated as he grabbed the car keys off the table. Connor passed Casey to Rebecca and gave a quick wave goodbye before heading out the door towards the car.

Harry started up the car as the three of you got in to start the five-hour car ride.

“You ok love?” you asked Connor as you watched him quickly wipe tears from his face.

“Yeah I’m alright, just hard to leave them you know” he replied back.

The rest of the car ride was spent with Harry blasting music trying to make the atmosphere a little more upbeat and happy. The three of you laughed and sang and talked the whole way there, only making one stop for gas (and for a tube of Pringles). It was a little past two that afternoon when you arrived on campus and after Harry getting lost for a good ten minutes and refusing to ask for directions you finally made it to his dorm.

A couple of students welcomed you at the door and helped Harry and you get everything loaded out of the car as Connor went to go check in and get his room key.

“So this is what going to college looks like? You know it doesn’t seem that bad. The dorm actually looks kind of nice” Harry mumbles as he grabs the last box from the car.

“My freshman dorm building had cockroaches in most of the bathrooms and my room was so small me and my roommate could touch hands from our beds that were on opposite sides of the room” you stated as you made your way into the building.

“That’s disgusting love, don’t tell me that” he replied as he searches the room full of parents and students for your son.

Connor gives you two a quick way as he helps lead the two boys helping you with his things up to his floor into the elevator. You and Harry followed closely behind as you made your way up to the sixth floor. After thanking the two boys Connor opened the door to his room.

“Nope I take it back, University is awful. I’m glad I didn’t go” Harry announces as he sees the small room Connor will have to share for the year.

“Dad its fine, come on help me get my record player set up on the desk,” Connor stated as you began to take out his folded clothes from the boxes and put it in the draws and closet.

The three of you worked together quietly as the record player played The Beatles album “Abbey Road”. You had just finished hanging up his winter coat when a small knock was heard on the door. Connor carefully opened the door, trying to avoid hitting any of the boxes that were sprawled out and saw a boy outside the door. He was about the same height as Harry, maybe a little taller with dark brown hair and eyes and olive skin.

“Hey, sorry to barge in. my names Lucas, I’m your roommate. These are my parents Pedro and Anna ” the boy stated with a smile as he gestured two the middle age couple behind him.

You all introduced yourself quickly as Connor and Lucas began to discuss living arrangements and what they would keep in their fridge. His family was lovely and you found out that both of his parents were originally from Spain but now lived about twenty minutes away. You ended up exchanging numbers with Anna as a precaution in case anything happened to either boy and to be able to better keep track of your baby. After a while of talking the three of you excused yourselves to let Lucas set up his side of the room.

You spent the next two hours eating at a local restaurant with Connor and stopping by the grocery store to stock his room up with water and other essentials (you weren’t sure how a box of 50 fruit snacks was a necessity but it somehow made it into the cart). When you came back in the room Lucas and his family were heading downstairs to say their last goodbyes before his parents went back home You decided it was easiest to say your own goodbyes up here now as it was getting late and you still had a long drive home.

“So I guess this is it” Connor announced as he rocked back and forth on his feet before bringing you into a tight hug, burying his head in your shoulder much like Harry does when he’s upset.

Your eyes filled with tears as you ran your hands through his hair carefully as he cried while telling him how proud you were of him. You placed a kiss onto his cheek before releasing him so he could say goodbye to Harry. The minute he was out of your grasp Harry wrapped Connor up in a bear hug as the two of them sobbed. You cried quietly as you watch the two of them whisper things to each other until the two of them let out a stranged laugh. Harry released Connor from his grasp and held him at an arm's length.

“I might be going on tour this year but if you need anything, anything at all, don’t be afraid to call me ok? I’ll fly out, I’ll sit and listen. Just know that I’m always here, ok?” Harry instructed as Connor gave him a quick nod, both men wiping the last couple of tears from their eyes.

You both said your last goodbye’s as a puffy-eyed Lucas came up again. You gave him a quick hug before stating, “Connor has money for dinner, make sure you both go out and eat something before you’re stuck with dining hall food all year, ok?”

Lucas chuckled before giving you a quick thanks and walking in the room. Connor closed it behind the two of you and you heard both boys talking behind the door.

“Dude you and I can’t go looking like this” Connor stated as Lucas gave a quick laugh and replied back “I know we’re going to look like absolute wankers if we don’t get it together”.

You smiled at their conversation, knowing that he would be just fine. You and Harry walked to the car and just as you were about to get in Harry handed you the keys and began to sob into your shoulder again. It took everything in you not roll your eyes at the blubbering mess your husband had become. If he was this emotional now you can only imagine how much of a mess he was when he moved out at sixteen. You rubbed his back softly as you carefully opened the passenger door for him, passing him a packet of tissues from the cup holder. You mumbled some reassuring words before getting into the driver's seat and starting the car.

Harry stopped crying about halfway through the trip so the two of you switched spots at one of the rest stops. You slept the majority of the way back as Harry decided to play all of his favorite sad songs. You made it back to your house a little before 11pm. You could see some faint lights from the upstairs bedrooms and the living room light on as you pulled into the driveway. The two of you carefully got out of the car and made your way inside, finding Riley and Rebecca watching a baking show on the couch.

“Hey, how did it go?” Riley whispered quietly as you sat down on the edge of the couch with them.

“Good, good. He’s all set up and his roommate Lucas is lovely. Your father balled for about three hours on the car ride back but it was good” you stated as the two of them laughed at their dad.

“Hey you know I’m a sensitive man” Harry grumbled from the kitchen where he was making himself a sandwich. The three of you rolled your eyes before you sent your kids off to their rooms with a quick peck on the cheek.

You carefully folded up the blanket they had been using and turned off the lights and the Tv before going up to check on the rest of your kids. You made your way through the hallway and found that Victoria and Casey were both happily asleep in their beds but when you went to see Grayson you found his room empty. You furrowed your eyebrows and heard Harry’s elephant-like footsteps come up the stairs. Just when you were about to ask if Grayson was somewhere downstairs you saw that the light to Connor’s room was still on. Carefully the two of you walked to the end of the hall to see Grayson tucked into Connor’s bed, hugging his pillow tightly. You could see the tear stains on the pillowcase but he looked much calmer then he had before even if he had fallen asleep in the leather jacket Connor had left him.

“You know when Gemma left for University I slept in her bed for a whole week” Harry mumbled as he took another bite of his sandwich. You nodded your head while bitting your bottom lip softly.

“You think he’ll be ok?” you whispered back as the two of you stared at the sleeping boy from the door.

“I think he’ll be fine (Y/n), I mean, I was. Come on leave him be, I want to cuddle you in bed for a bit, maybe even eat you for dessert” he announced as he placed a kiss on your cheek playfully and walked towards your bedroom.

You rolled your eyes at your husband and walked into Connor’s room to pull down the blinds and turn off the lamp. You placed a quick kiss on Grayson’s head before leaving the room and carefully closing the door behind you. Tomorrow was going to be a tough day for everyone but you knew that in the end, everything would be ok. The Styles family wasn’t going to break this easily, you were sure of it.

@thereal(y/n): Can’t believe our oldest baby is off to college!! Wish we could have kept you this small forever!

________________________________________________________________

Thank you too @applepiejamz for send this request in!! If you guys have any requests feel free to send them in as well!!!! My masterlist is in my bio if you want to check out any of my other writing!!

#harry styles blurb #harry styles preferences #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles stories #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #dad! #dad!harry #harry styles fluff #harry #harry styles masterlist #harry fluff #harry family #harry styles one shot

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Blood in the Water (Sequel to Such a Softer Sin) Chapter 20

(Chapter 1)     (Chapter 2)     (Chapter 3)     (Chapter 4)     (Chapter 5)

(Chapter 6)     (Chapter 7)     (Chapter 8)     (Chapter 9)     (Chapter 10)

(Chapter 11)     (Chapter 12)     (Chapter 13)     (Chapter 14)

(Chapter 15)     (Chapter 16)     (Chapter 17)     (Chapter 18)

(Chapter 19)

One more chapter after this guys. There will be a third instalment around the second film, but I’ll be taking a break from this storyline for a bit. I have a few Daryl fics I need to work on so I can complete them and get them to you guys, and they’re taking priority after the next chapter of this. I really burnt myself out with this one since I started posting way before I completed it. Playing catch up so you guys don’t wait forever has drained me and I need to switch to some Daryl for a bit.

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Lila and the boys sat in the waiting room in the hospital waiting for the scan. They were all anxious, Connor was trying to keep his cool, Murphy was fidgeting relentlessly, and Lila was silent as they waited. She felt like this was it, this was when she would find out if the baby was okay or not, there was so much riding on this. It was a little scary how much weight this moment held for them all and part of her wanted to bolt out of the door just so she didn't have to hear any bad news.

“Lila MacManus!” the woman called, causing Lilas eyes to snap to her as she felt the nerves reaching an all-time high. She swallowed thickly as she stood, the boys in tow as she went into the room.

She lay on the bed as the doctor squirted the cold jelly onto her stomach, both boys sat to her left as the doctor was to her right with the scan machine. The screen was turned away and Lila mused if that was on the off chance something was wrong with the baby, the parents wouldn't be able to see. She felt sick with how nervous she was and neither boy spoke, their usual chatty demeanour growing to an anxious silent one as they waited, watching as the doctor pushed the wand onto Lilas' belly and began moving it around, looking at the screen intently.

“Alright, everythin’s lookin’ pretty good. Both babies look healthy, you’re around 10 weeks,” the doctor smiled, pushing the screen to face them. None of them looked at it though, staring at the woman with their jaws slack.

“I’m sorry, could ye repeat that? It sounded an awful lot like ye said babies...as in more than one,” Connor said carefully.

“You're having twins, congratulations!” the doctor smiled. Lilas' eyes widened as she glanced to the screen, sure enough seeing too little babies instead of just one. Twins, fucking twins, not just one baby but two, heaven help her. Every story the boys Ma told her swirled through her head, she’d be grey in a number of years.

Murphy let out a boyish laugh of delight, so pleased with the news as he looked to his brother, a grin spreading on Connors' face. It had been a shock, but one they would gladly welcome.

“I’ll let ye have a moment and I’ll print a few pictures off for ye,” the doctor said before she got up and left the room. Lila was still in shock, staring at her two healthy babies on the screen. They were okay, they were healthy, it was more than she could have asked for and she burst into tears yet again.

“What's wrong m’girl?” Murphy asked softly, taking her hand and holding it gently.

“Just relieved,” she smiled, wiping her eyes with her spare hand as she looked at the boys, they looked so happy it felt like her heart might just explode.

“Fuckin’ twins, can ye believe that?” Murphy laughed again, beaming with radiance.

“Aye, I mean we probably should have considered the possibility, but I didn't really think about it,” Connor grinned, reaching out and rubbing Lilas leg affectionately.

“Oh, Ma’s gonna have a fuckin’ field day wit’ this one,” Murphy snorted. The mood between the three was lighter now, knowing that the baby was okay, or babies rather.

“Can we tell people yet love? Please?” Murphy pleaded as he looked at Lila, giving her his sad eyes and pouty lip. He was so excited it was honestly adorable, and now she had seen for herself that the babies were okay, she was excited herself, allowing her to start getting attached to the tiny humans inside of her belly.

“Yeah,” she beamed, making him cheer enthusiastically.

“Who are we tellin’ first?” Connor asked curiously, glancing from his brother to his girl.

“Could we tell Rocco first?” she asked carefully. She knew it wasn't exactly proper as such, they probably expected to tell their mother first or at least their father, but Rocco was family to her just like he was to the boys and they knew this, this understood why he would be the one she wanted to share the news with first.

“Sounds good te me. Then Ma I think, she could use some good news,” Connor agreed, Murphy nodded, also up for the plan. Noah would be the last of their close group to know, but in fairness, he hadn't been in the boy's life for long, it seemed natural to do it this way.

Lila sat at the dining table as she waited for Connor to grab Rocco from his part of the house. Murphy wasn't to be trusted, he had been a fidgety ball of excited energy ever since he found out they were having twins and Lila and Connor both knew if he went to get Rocco, the news would have been told before he had brought him here. The darker haired boy was pacing, chewing his thumb so much Lila thought it might disappear as she just tracked his movements with her eyes.

“Murphy! Sit the fuck down!” she huffed, he was making her nervous. He glanced at her, looking like a scolded child as he sat next to her right side. He sat still for less than a second before his fingers started drumming on the table. Lila slowly turned to him, eyes narrowing to slits.

“Murphy, I swear to God-” she started, just when Connor and Rocco bounded into the room.

“Alright, he’s here!” Connor grinned, making Murphy jump up with excitement and hug him. Rocco just stood there looking confused.

“The fucks goin’ on?” he asked, glancing between the three of them.

It had been agreed that Lila would tell him, Murphy whined like a bitch for over an hour about it so Connor told him he could be the one to tell his Ma, Connor would tell Noah.

“We have something to tell you,” Lila smiled, she was excited and nervous all rolled into one as she took out one of the many scan pictures they had printed and handed him one. Rocco's eyes widened as he took the picture, looking at it in awe and slightly emotional. It just looked like blobs to him but he knew it was a scan picture.

“You're having a baby?” he asked, a huge grin splitting his face as he looked up from the picture.

“Actually- Ow, the fuck Connor?!” Murphy whined, rubbing his head where his brother had promptly smacked him one for almost taking Lilas moment away from her. He scowled at his twin for a second before Connor gave him a pointed look and he realised.

“Sorry Lila,” he sighed, looking contrite but she couldn't help but smile at his eagerness to tell the world, it was adorable.

“It’s alright Murph, you can tell him,” she smiled warmly, reaching out and taking his hand, kissing it affectionately. His face brightened so much it hurt her heart as she watched him and Connor smiled and shook his head.

“Tell me what?” Rocco asked warily, not really understanding what else there would be to tell.

“We’re havin’ twins!” Murphy declared dramatically, laughing when Roccos face turned from confused to complete shock.

“Twins? As in two?” Rocco asked with wide eyes that went from Lila to the boys.

“No Roc, three, o’ course two ye fuckin’ idiot,” Connor snorted, making Murphy bark out a laugh. Even Lila had to bite her lip to stop from laughing at her best friends ridiculous question. Rocco didn't seem to comment on being called an idiot though, he just looked back to the scan picture as his eyes welled up and Lilas' heart ached.

“Fuck guys, why you gotta do this to me?” he whined with a sniffle, wiping his eyes. He all but shoved the boys out of the way to get to Lila, embracing her tightly as he continued to sniffle.

“I fuckin’ love you guys, man. I better be the Godfather or I’m fuckin’ shit up,” he huffed, still hugging her. The boys watched on with wide grins as he moved away and then went to them. Connor grinned and Murphy laughed as they grabbed him, giving him a big hug. It felt good to finally tell people, to get it out in the world. Next on the agenda was the boys Ma.

Lila sat in the back of the car, her fingers nervously drumming on her legs as they sat outside of Annabel's house. Lila couldn't bring herself to get out and as much as the boys wanted to, they had sat there with her until she calmed down. Murphy was once again fidgety as he sat in the back with her, unable to contain his excitement. Lila was nervous though, telling Rocco was one thing, she knew he would be happy, he had been since he found out they were trying way before all this shit started. But their Ma, that was another thing. She knew the woman liked her, but still, she was scared shitless.

“C’mon love, it’ll be fine,” Murphy soothed beside her, taking her hand in his and stroking it softly. She glanced to him worriedly and then Connor who had turned in the front seat to look at her.

“But this... it's a big deal, we’re having a baby...babies... it's serious,” she muttered, looking spooked almost.

“Are ye sure yer scared o’ tellin’ Ma or ye just scared in general sweetheart?” Connor asked carefully, taking in her wide frightened eyes. When she looked at him he felt like he already knew the answer. In all honesty, he was scared too and he knew his brother was. Lila wasn't lying when she said this was a big deal, and despite the fact they were now married, that they had been trying for a while, it felt so much more real after seeing those precious little babies on that screen earlier in the day.

She didn't answer him, she didn't want to, she just inhaled a shaky breath as Murphy continued to stroke her hand to try and calm her. After a few more moments, he felt ready to crawl out of his skin.

“Please m’girl, won't feel much better sat out here, have te tell her sometime,” he pleaded, once again the puppy eyes came out as she looked at him. He was right though, she couldn't hide out here in the car forever, they did need to tell her. She nodded, relenting as they all piled out of the car and made their way to the front door. Connor knocked before lacing his fingers with Lila, Murphy’s arm around her waist as they waited for the door to open. Once it did they were greeted by their mother, looking at them warily.

“Oh God, what have ye done now? Aren’t ye too old te be gettin’ inte trouble?” she sighed as she looked from one boy to the other. Murphy squinted, looking offended as Connor snorted.

“I’m wounded Ma, we came te see ye outta the good grace o’ our hearts and ye think we’re up te no good?” Connor asked, holding a hand over his heart in mock hurt. Lila smirked to herself and shook her head as their mother narrowed her eyes distrustfully.

“Just get in ye little shits,” she huffed, walking away and leaving the three stood there. Connor walked in first, knowing Lila was still nervous and Lila and Murphy followed in behind him.

“Da?” Connor asked shocked, seeing his father sat in the armchair. He hadn't really expected to see him there, last he checked his mother wanted to throttle him for walking out on them all. His Da just nodded with a smile in greeting at the three, Murphy looking just as shocked as his twin about him being there. They knew better not to say anything though, if their parents were getting on with each other, it wasn't exactly a bad thing. It also made it easier, killing two birds with one stone as it were. The trio sat on the couch as Annabel took the next armchair near Noah.

“So...We got ye somethin’!” Murphy grinned deviously and it did little to ease the fact their Ma thought they were up to something.

“Close yer eyes, and hold ye hands out, you too Da,” Connor smirked, making both their parents glance to each other warily. They complied though, closing their eyes as instructed and holding out their hands. Murphy put a scan picture in his mother's hands whilst Connor put one in their fathers. Lila chewed her thumb nervous as she watched, a habit she had picked up from the darker twin, and she was grateful when Connor once again laced his fingers with hers and Murphy wrapped an arm around her, they both needed to feel her, touch her and feel support themselves if they were honest.

Annabel and Noah opened their eyes, landing them on the scan pictures. Noahs face lit up, a bright smile on the usually stoic man and Annabel looked almost in shock, actually speechless for a brief second.

“Twins?” she asked, her usually loud and brash voice a mere whisper as she looked at the boys. They nodded, huge grins plastered on their faces and the older woman gasped, her hand covering her heart. She carefully set the scan picture down on the coffee table before standing up, making her way over.

“Come on, give us a hug sweetheart,” she smiled, teary eyes as she gestured to Lila. The boys looked utterly offended as their Ma got Lila to her feet and embraced her tightly.

“What the fuck is wit’ everyone huggin’ Lila first?” Connor asked with a huff.

“Aye, and our own Ma, what a disgrace.” Murphy scoffed, but the twinkle of mischief in the boys' eyes showed no real issue there, they were just being their usual selves. Noah stood up then and the boys instinctively stood too.

“Me boys have turned inte men. Make sure ye take care o’ her and the wee babes.” Noah said sternly as he hugged boy boys at the same time.

“Aye Da.” They replied in unison, smiles on their faces as they hugged back.

“Well, I think this calls for a celebration.” Annabel declared after all the emotional hugging was over.

“Fuickin’ hell Ma, ye think anythin’ calls for a celebration.” Murphy snorted, wincing when he got a clout around the ear. Connor smirked at him smugly and Murphy sneered at him.

“Nothin’ wrong wit’ celebratin’ ye little shit. And this definitely calls for one.” She beamed, looking so over the moon about the whole thing.

It went as good as they thought it would, they knew their parents would be happy for them. They were having twins, sure it was scary but they wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere than right where they were in that moment. With their girl and their family, telling them the best news in the fucking world. Their fathers promise bounced around their brains and they knew what he was getting at, since Noah himself had upped and left. They knew the man had his reasons and they had forgiven him for that, so had their Ma by all accounts since they were in the same room voluntarily and she wasn’t trying to throttle him, and there was no chance in hell they would ever leave Lila and the babies. They made that mistake last time, and they wouldn't want to be away from them anyway. They were having a little family of their own, and it was odd for them to think of the lives they lead before the redhead came into them. No serious girls, no want for one, no thoughts of children. It wasn't that their thoughts on the matters had changed, it was all Lila. Meeting Lila, falling in love with her, that had been the moment they wanted those things because they wanted them with her, no one else. She was it for them, and they had known that subconsciously from the first time they had seen her soaked in McGintys. And now, here they were, married and expecting not one baby but two, getting everything they never even knew they wanted and more. They wouldn't change a fucking thing.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag @keeperofwonderlandus

#boondock saints #boondock saints fanfic #murphy macmanus #murphy macmanus fanfic #connor macmanus #connor macmanus fanfic

[homesoutofhuman]

Daddy Issues: Part 22

Walking After You

Warnings:

Lil bit of smut (okay let’s just say that’s a warning for all my stories from now on)

If you'd accept surrender, I'll give up some more

Weren't you adored?

I cannot be without you, matter of fact

If you walk out on me

I'm walking after you - Foo Fighters- Walking After you

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

The next day with Connor still at Aurelio’s, you doze lazily in John’s bed, sharing sleepy morning kisses. You wrestle a bit in bed, your limbs tangled together, play-fighting as you push at his t-shirt in frustration. It is a competition to see who get the most clothes off who, and John of course wins, throwing your vest on the floor and tugging at your underwear, threatening to rip them off.

You grab his hand and hold it against you, letting him feel how wet you are already and you manage to catch him off guard. John’s eyes darken immediately and he touches you enthusiastically. Tilting his head he looks at you questioningly, in awe that he gets to have that effect on you.

“Mine?” he stutters.

“Yours” you confirm and take advantage of his moment of shock to straddle him. John lets you get the upper hand for a moment and you grind down on him, boxers between you, kissing him deeply, your fingers tangled in his dark hair. John indulges you for a while, his fingers digging into your backside and squeezing it harder when you kiss his throat.

His fingers run up your spine and back down again, making you shiver at the feather light touches. You are soon rubbing against him like a cat and he lets out a groan as the movements of your hips causes friction, pulling the fabric of his boxers against his clothed erection.

“This little needy kitten routine really turns me on you know?” he growls, smirking against your ear and you feel the breath rush out of you at his words

You sit back, still straddling his hips so you can look at him, pretending you’re not completely at his mercy.

“That’s funny...because I’m on top...and you’re the one who’s almost straining out of your boxers…”

You scratch your nails on his chest and kiss and nip at his stomach, wanting to leave a mark of ownership on his skin- let all those women look, he belongs to me. John gives a warning noise in his throat, digging his fingers into your hair, proudly possessive himself.

“Your mouth…” he starts and you smile, loving it when he talks dirty, even more when he praises you. “...should be fucking illegal…”

You suck and lick at a bruise on his hip you guess he got messing around with Connor, then move back up, missing his lips on yours.

John takes control of the kiss whether you like it or not, hungrily claiming your lips and running a hand down your neck to hold you captive while he sticks his tongue down your throat. You’re hardly complaining, just struggling to stay balanced on top of him. John senses it and flips you both over so you’re lying under him.

He looks down at you smugly. “Now who’s on top?”

In revenge he starts kissing his way down your body while keeping you trapped under him, sucks your nipples until they are red and puffy and runs long fingers over them proudly. You let out a frustrated whimper.

“Aw...sorry baby…” he says in a mocking voice and you promise revenge with a glare. “But I’m stronger, bigger and older than you, so don’t feel bad…”

You feel him throbbing against your thigh and can tell that your play-fighting has turned him on as much as you.

“Please John...what do you want? Want me to beg?” you hide your knowing smile and open your eyes wide and innocent, blinking at him in a way you know will make him crazy.

He nods darkly and you start, a litany of pleas, letting all your pride and shame go in lieu of getting what you want, feeling your power in the way he responds.

“Please baby...please John...I need you so much...your beautiful cock ….want you to fill me up so good like you do...I never had it so good...you feel perfect...don’t deny me….please…”

John gives a guttural moan and hurriedly moves to take his boxers off, he’s so hard it’s almost painful, listening eagerly to each sinful thing that falls from your mouth, he wonders what he did to deserve this. How you went from being his most shameful fantasy to a delicious reality.

He begins thrusting shallowly into you, leaving you on the edge of being satisfied, it’s a torturous heaven.You try to wrap your legs around him to deepen it but he grips your thighs and shakes his head, looking into your eyes with soft brown ones as if he is trying to see into your soul.

It’s tormentingly lazy and John seems in no rush to finish.

You squirm with pleasure and reach your arms above your head stretching them, at the same time trying to tempt him into grabbing them and taking you harder. The way he is looking at you is making you self- conscious, and part of you wants to close your eyes and escape.

John looks fondly down at you and shakes his head.

“Slow today little one….please…”

You cannot deny him anything and eventually you surrender, giving in and just letting yourself feel. Him moving inside you, the soft fan of his warm breath against your cheek, the touch of his fingers on your cheeks, the look of his dark hair which falls in front of his eyes which are looking at you so softly it’s almost overwhelming.

When you come together it’s quieter than usual, but more intense, your toes curling and you feel a shiver running all the way up your body, and you shudder against John. He feels it, and responds, letting out a low groan gently into your ear and holding you tight.

Afterwards you share a shower in which John is still strangely clingy, insisting on washing your skin himself and then wrapping you in a towel. You feel coddled, cared for, and it’s a feeling you have to strain to relax into. When you do, you feel how it calms your hectic brain, you no longer think about the future, you enjoy the moment, being with him. John seems calmer too, but more affectionate than usual, finding ways to keep touching you, a hand on your back, patting your arm. You wonder what the hell has got into him, but enjoy every gesture.

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

John mutters something about needing to check things in the garage and you let him go, used to him muttering excuses then appearing hours later, covered in oil and looking relaxed and happy.

If it makes him look like that, you’re happy to sacrifice him for a few hours. You brew the coffee while you wait, standing in the kitchen with bare feet, wearing one of John’s shirts as a nightie. You look around, the kitchen table covered in a mixture of John’s papers, coffee cups and Connor’s toys, and a lump forms in your throat when you realise you’ve never been so happy in your life.

Time freezes and you desperately tell yourself savour this. The morning light is golden on your skin and you close your eyes trying to hold onto the moment a bit longer. John walks in wiping his hands on a rag and sees you standing there with your eyes closed, smiling like a loon and he chuckles, moving near and sliding his arms around your waist.

You let out a small cry of alarm. “I didn’t hear you…”

“That’s cause I’m stealthy…” John kisses your ear “what were you thinking about?”

“Hmm?” you act nonchalant, moving away from him to pour the coffee.

“When I came in. You seemed lost in thought…”

“I was just….thinking...how quiet it is without Connor…”

John frowns a bit “Oh yeah?”

“I miss him.” you admit and John breaks into a smile.

“Me too. But..he’ll be home soon...will you come outside first?”

“Sure...let me just get dressed.”

John leers at you “You look fine as you are…”

“John! I’m not even wearing a bra!”

John comes near and runs his hands over your chest “I can see that...” his voice has gone a bit shaky and you see danger ahead.

“What’s outside?”

“Your birthday present….”

“What?” You squeak. “I thought the cake...and dinner…”

John looks down at the floor, suddenly bashful “That didn’t seem enough for you…”

You’re touched, speechless, and tamely follow him as he leads you by the hand outside. A maroon Chevrolet Chevelle is parked on the drive and you blink in confusion.

“Did you get a new car?”

John rolls his eyes at you “Now, I hired you because you were smart, don’t prove me wrong.”

“For me?” You stare at the car in astonishment, trailing a hand over the bodywork which is buffed to a shine you can almost see your face in.

John is back to looking shy “So you won’t have to take the bus anymore...you and Connor can go wherever you want...”

You open the car door and sit in the driver’s seat, drumming your fingers excitedly on the wheel. John slides into the passenger seat and starts rambling about the car.

“So it’s 1970 model...I know you can’t even comprehend the 70s but they were a good time…”

“You were only a child in 1970 John, stop it.”

You reach to squeeze his hand and he pauses in detailing the statistics of the engine size.

“You did this up, for me? All those hours you were in the garage?”

He looks at your joined hands, a blush on his cheeks “Yeah.”

You slide back in the seat, it smells of leather and reminds you so much of John.

“I don’t even know how to say thank you.”

John lifts your hand and kisses it “You don’t need to. You have no idea what you’ve done for me since you’ve come here. You’ve made me feel young again…made me positive and hopeful...”

You sniff a little feeling overwhelmed with emotion and John looks at you concerned. You shake your head, trying to talk through the tears.

“I’m happy...don’t worry….just emotional, remember?”

“I do…” John rubs your back until you calm down, then you take a test drive around the block, the engine purring quietly and John trying not to hold on as you speed around the corners.

After telling you sternly to drive carefully, John watches you drive off home. He stands in the hall and looks at the painting leaning against the wall, left forgotten. He picks it up and frowns at it, he has a strong feeling he knows exactly who sent it, and he needs to pay a visit to an old friend.

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

“I know why you’re doing this Santino,”

“Oh? Do enlighten me, John.”

The smaller man pushes a cup of espresso across the counter, trying to calculate in his head whether this will end in a fight.

“As revenge, for her. But you’ve got it so wrong. We were never together. It was a one night drunken thing. After a long day at work, we were both hurt and sad…but it meant nothing.”

Santino frowns, shaking his head. “That makes it even worse. You know I wanted her and you still…”

John sighs, puts a large hand on his ex-friend’s shoulder “I’m sorry. I didn’t know she’d bolt like that...when she found out she was pregnant...I didn’t know…”

Santino grimaces, not wanting to believe him, but he knows that John Wick tells the truth, John Wick is an honourable man.

“I guess I should blame her, not you. At least you got Connor out of it...and now...you’ve got something else...”

John shoulder’s tense again in protection as he refers to you. “Do you promise to leave y/n alone?”

“She’s so different from her John….I couldn’t see at first why you wanted her...then I saw how she is with the boy...the depth in her eyes looking at art…”

John clenches his fists and Santino sees it. “Calm down she never even looks at me when you’re around. That’s the other thing I noticed, she loves you.”

John shakes his head “I….we haven’t said...that…”

“Well you should...hurry up and say it before something or someone ruins it. Trust me, I’m talking from experience here.”

“Thanks for the advice Santino.” John looks at him then, nostalgic. “We used to be good friends. I hope in time we can be that again.”

Santino shrugs, still proud, but then he smiles and it’s genuine. “I hope so too…”

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

You are sitting with Connor who is telling you excitedly about his first day at school. You listen, delighted for him, but cannot stop the nagging feeling at the back of your mind, he doesn’t need you anymore.

Connor hugs you and goes to find his school book bag. You smile hoping your love of books has rubbed off on him.

You chew your lip, and grab your laptop, finishing typing out your application for your Masters. It may be coincidence that you’ve chosen a school a few miles from John’s house, or it may be hope that refuses to go away despite the stern reality checks you keep giving yourself every morning in the mirror.

This is just sex to him...he sees you as a bit of fun...nothing serious...a man like that would never want you for real...get a grip.

A little harsh maybe, but at least it stops you from daydreaming about white dresses and bouquets, Connor in a mini version of a suit and bow tie...moving in with John, having sex all over the house, going out in public without having to hide.

Your laptop flashes a red light warning it’s about to die. You curse, realising you left your charger at home, rummaging in John’s drawer to see if he has a spare one you can borrow. Under the pile of envelopes and nursery reports your hand closes on a pile of postcards, wrapped together with a rubber band. The top one shows greetings from some sunny destination and you flip it over, casually curious. A light feminine scrawl on the back informs John: still out here enjoying the sun, please kiss my son for me...

An ice cold dread freezes in your veins, all your worst fears have been confirmed. John is still hung up on the ghost of a lover...and is distracting himself by fucking the nanny.

You hear John coming in through the door and you simply hold up to the postcards, struck dumb. John runs a hand through his hand, looking pained but not wasting time with bullshit, keeping his voice calm.

“She sends them for Connor...just so I know where she is. I’ve never contacted her back…it’s nothing...honestly...”

You stare at him, feeling your eyes cloud with tears. “But she’s not nothing...she’s something to you...and all I am is the nanny!”

“Don’t be so….ridiculous!”

“You never take me seriously John…”

He stares at you,  “What are you talking about?”

John gapes at you and you throw up your hands “Just leave me the fuck alone…”

You storm out to your car and John chases after you, standing in front of it and crossing his arms.

You rev the engine and he just raises a dark eyebrow, immovable in front of the car.

You dare to beep the horn and that’s enough for him to move to the driver’s side, opening the door. You take your hands off the wheel but stay in your seat, sulking.

John sighs with exasperation, looking down at you “Can you please get out of the fucking car y/n”

“Why?” you say, in a small voice, your anger has dissipating and left a rather guilty feeling that you may have overreacted. After all, John was just trying to spare your feelings.

“Am I going to have to lift you out?”

You shake your head and hug yourself. John rolls his eyes and bends to scoop you up into his arms despite your protests.

He carries you inside and deposits you on the living room carpet.

“Now.” He says sternly, and you feel a rush of sympathy for Connor. “You’re going to stay here until we’ve figured this out.”

You pout, knowing you’re acting like a brat. “Spill it.”

John sighs, but nods, gesturing with his hands as he explains.

“She started sending them a couple of years after he was born...I have no way to stop it, and I thought..maybe one day Connor might want to see them...know at least his mother was thinking of him…”

You sigh, the fight completely gone out of you. “I understand.”

“But you don’t…” John takes your hands and kissing them, imploring you to look at him.

“I never loved her, but I do love my son. And….I love you…”

“What?” you murmur, looking at your feet.

“I love you.” John repeats, lifting your chin with a finger, he caresses your bottom lip with his thumb. “You don’t have to look so sad about it.”

“I’m not...I just realised...that  means you’re stuck with me now...”

John chuckles “I am? Perfect...”

“I love you too John.” You say in a rush, unable to wait any longer.

He kisses you, wrapping you up into his strong arms so passionately your feet almost leave the ground. He holds you for a long time, murmuring reassurances into your hair that you’re not just the nanny to him, that this is real. When you part he is looking at you with shining dark eyes so full of love you wonder how you ever could have doubted him.

“Oh, by the way, you’re fired.” he smirks, pressing close against you and you are glad to see your declarations have not dampened the heat between you.

You flutter your lashes at him.

“Too late. I already quit.”

John lets out a loud laugh and takes you once again into his arms, squeezing you tight, thinking with eager excitement of sharing the news with Connor. He finally got what he wanted, another chance at happiness, and he’ll be damned if he ever lets it go.

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

The End (for now… ;) )

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Daddy Issues playlist

#daddy issues #OH MY GAWDDD IT@S DONE I crying a bit I'm emotional okay #john wick x you #john wick x reader