#i wish Connor could wear a suit too

[sorryiliketoscreenshot]

[kitweewoos]

17.“Hey, look at me. I’m not going anywhere.”

(surprise! it's rhodestead)

Connor was lost, staring at the coffin as they lowered his father into the cold ground. He’d never been especially close to his father, but the ache in his chest didn’t seem to care. He’d spent so much time hating his father that all he could see now was all the time that they could have had going forward, repairing the misunderstandings. He’d let so much get in between them, and now he was an orphan with just his sister, Claire, left as his family. She hadn’t spoken to him since Ava had committed suicide rather than answer for her crime. She knew that Connor was the reason they no longer had a father, and now his sister wouldn’t even look at him.

He didn’t blame her, honestly. He hadn’t looked at himself in the mirror yet, unable to face the guilt in his eyes. He’d not even been back to his apartment because every time he’d tried, all he could remember was all the times he’d brought Ava back there while she’d played with him and manipulated him.

Instead, he’d been staying at a hotel, since he couldn’t sleep most nights anyway. It was good that he’d resigned from Chicago Med because he was in no state to practice at the moment. It did mean that he’d isolated himself pretty effectively from his friends and coworkers.

Well, except for –

[read the rest below | read it now on ao3]

“Hey.” The voice cut through Connor’s thoughts and he looked up from the hole and the casket at Will Halstead. He was wearing a black suit, having attended the funeral of a man he’d barely known just so Connor didn’t have to stand by himself. The suit looked good on him, but then again, most things did. “It’s starting to rain. Let’s go back to the car.”

“Let it rain,” Connor grumbled, and he heard Will sigh gently. 

“Connor, come with me,” he said, and his hand slid into Connor’s with light pressure, their fingers lacing together before Connor could realize what was happening, not that he would protest. Will had always been a proper, solid foundation in Connor’s life since the day they’d met, even if it hadn’t seemed like it at the time.

“Let’s get you home,” Will said, and Connor flinched.

“I don’t – I haven’t been home,” he admitted.

“You haven’t?”

“No, it reminds me of, of her, and I can’t be there alone.”

“Where have you been staying, then?”

“You’re going to scoff, but the Hilton near the hospital?”

“Okay,” Will said with a nod, eyes soft and understanding as he looked at Connor. “Would you like to go back there, or -”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, that’s fine. It’s okay not to know. Let’s just start with getting you over to the car, and we’ll figure out where to go from there. Come on.”

He was led away from the grave, his father’s final resting place just as the casket hit the bottom. He couldn’t bring himself to look back at the masterfully carved marble headstone he’d had made up for his father. He had chosen to follow his father’s instructions left with the family lawyer, since he’d felt like he had owed him at least that but he’d wished someone else could sort out all the details of his father’s funeral and his burial. He was exhausted, between fielding calls about his father’s will and from the press about his involvement in his father’s death. He was so exhausted, in fact, that Will leading him to his car parked on the edge of the cemetery’s path between the aisles of graves was exactly what he needed.

“No,” Connor finally said as Will left him at the passenger side door to his car.

“No?”

“I don’t want to go back there, back to the hotel.”

“Okay,” was all Will said, unlocking the doors to his sensible sedan before he climbed into the driver’s seat. Connor glanced at the Porsche he’d driven at the edge of the path. He didn’t want to ome back to get it. He never wanted to come back at all. Maybe Will would do that for him, too. Then, Connor climbed into the car after WIll, and let out a small sigh of relief. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Connor was numb as Will pulled into an unfamiliar parking lot outside of an unfamiliar building. 

"Is this –" he started. 

"You didn't want to go home, and you didn't want to go to the hotel. So, I brought you somewhere safe. My place."

"Is that okay?"

He'd never been over to Will's, mostly because Will hadn't let him come over when they hung out. Instead, Will usually came over to Connor's, or they met up somewhere else like Molly's. It didn't look too shabby, despite Will's attitude about it. It looked cozy, a place he could call his own that he has picked out for himself and styled for his own comfort. 

"Yeah," Connor said. "This is good. Thank you."

"Don't worry about it," Will said, patting his leg with such gentle care. "C'mon. Kol loves visitors."

"Kol?" Connor asked, heart dropping a little that he'd have to field some guy's questions about why he was there, who he was to Will, why he looked like he'd rather die than take in another breath. "Who is that?"

"Oh! He's my dog!" Will said cheerily. "He'll love you."

Connor breathed out a sigh of relief, and nodded. He could handle a dog. 

"Okay."

"Don't worry," Will said, "I've got your back, Con."

Connor followed Will into the building, his hand claimed all over again with a warm pressure from Will's hand, and up the stairs to a third floor apartment tucked in the corner. It was a small space, a bit messy but in a lived in way that Connor adored. Greeting them at the door was an older dog, mid-sized with shaggy brown fur and a graying muzzle, looking up at them with adoring eyes. 

"Hey buddy, I brought you a friend! This is Connor. Connor, this is my good boy, Kol. His owner before me died at the hospital, and no one was there to get him, so I adopted him."

"That was good of you."

"Thanks," Will said. "C'mon in. Kol, bed."

Kol turned and trotted obediently to a dog bed in the corner of the living room, right beside a couch. There was clearly a space where Kol lived in the home, on the dog bed specifically picked out for him but also a spot on the couch where there was a clear drool spot where he'd been asleep, and there were bowls for his food and water in the dining area half-filled so he could come and fill his need at his leisure. There was a leash and a harness hung up by the door where Will left his keys and wallet, too. Wherever Will was, he had made a space for Kol. 

Connor ached for that. He hadn't ever found a place like that, or a person like that. He had never had a place where someone had wanted him enough to form it around him. No one had taken the effort to carve out places in their life where he could fit perfectly. He wondered what that would look like with Will. An extra hook for his keys, maybe. A space in the closet for his clothes. An extra mug sitting next to the coffee maker. 

"I know it's definitely not up to your standard typically," Will said, "but –"

"No, uh, I love it. It's perfect."

"Oh. Really?"

"It feels like a home. My place, I had a realtor pick it out, and a home designer picked out the stuff, and – no part of it is me, I guess. This place, this feels like you."

“Oh. Uhm. Thanks, I guess. You, you didn’t pick out any of the decorations?”

“Nope,” Connor said. “I didn’t think I cared about that stuff. I had to prove that I was a good doctor, you know, to my dad, and the world, that I wasn’t just a trophy kid of a nepotism man. I worked hard to become a surgeon, and I’m damn good at it, despite what my father always thought. He thought I was wasting my time, and that I was an ungrateful little snot. And maybe I am. Maybe I am an ungrateful little snot, but – I’m getting sidetracked.”

He sighed and looked at Will as he kicked off his shoes. After a moment, Connor followed suit, leaving his suit jacket on until Will tugged at it so that too came off. Will, without hesitation, also reached for his tie and pulled that loose enough so that he could slip it over Connor’s head. He hung them both from a hook by the front door, and then put his hands on Connor’s shoulders.

“Take a deep breath, Con.”

Connor forced himself to obey, to draw in a long, steady breath into his aching, trembling lungs. 

“There we go. That’s much better. Now, do you want something to eat?” Will asked.

“What?”

“Are you hungry?”

“You’re asking me if I want to eat? The world has gone to hell, hasn’t it?” Connor said, and Will rolled his eyes, dropping his hands from Connor’s shoulders. It was a characteristic of Will’s that Connor had noticed pretty quickly that the man just didn’t eat, almost ever. At first, he’d thought it was Will just shrugging off Connor’s attempts at playing nice, claiming to have brought something from home, but it had quickly become apparent that it wasn’t about Connor at all. It was a defense mechanism, Connor knew now, and if Will was offering food to Connor, things were quite serious.

“I respond to stress by not eating, you respond by eating comfort food. I know that. So, are you hungry?”

“I mean, I could eat,” Connor replied. “What do you have?”

“Oh, god, nothing here,” Will scoffed, eyes fond as he waved his hand. “I’ll order some take out. Whatever you want. However much you want. My treat for having to put up with the dog hair and the smell of sauerkraut from down the hall.”

Connor hadn’t even noticed the smell until Will had mentioned it.

“What is that?”

“Mrs. Albrecht down the hall, she makes her own sauerkraut for the farmer’s market. The scent lingers.”

“Oh. I don’t mind, the dog hair, the smell, any of it. You don’t have to make up for this.”

“Still, let me.”

Connor looked at Will, his big, earnest eyes looking back at him, and nodded. 

“Alright.”

“Good. Now, let’s take a look at the menus.”

Connor had fallen asleep, he was sure, sometime after their third round of deliveries. They hadn’t been able to decide what they wanted from one place, so they got a sampling for several places. They’d eaten their fair share of the orders, almost to the point of making themselves sick, and Connor had started to drift off. The apartment was warm, and the soft lighting was soothing, as was Kol’s head resting on his lap, his own body starting to tilt into Will’s. He must’ve fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes, he was staring at Ava. 

Her face was pale, and there was a gash across her neck, just above her carotid, although the wound was bloodless. She was standing still, her eyes open but unseeing. Her mouth hung open, and her hand reached forward, but there was nothing of the life he’d known her for in the visage in front of him. The scalpel in her outstretched hand dripped blood like rain, a waterfall that spilled all over his shoes, the ones he had worn to his father’s funeral. 

He was standing in a grave, staring up at the sky, the hole swallowing him, and when he tried to claw his way out, his fingers just dug into relenting earth, the soil coming away in an avalanche. 

He was swallowed.

He couldn’t breathe. 

There was dirt everywhere. He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t –

He bolted away, gasping hard to try and fill his lungs, scrambling at anything for purchase, and found a shirt covering a solid chest. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Connor. It’s okay. It’s just me. It’s Will.”

The voice was familiar, and when he pushed past the haze of sleep forcefully, he found himself looking at Will Halstead. He was gripping Will's shirt hard enough that his knuckles had turned white. When he drew in a breath, it was ragged. 

"Hey, you're okay." Connor buried himself into Will's chest, glad he hadn't woken up alone. “Hey, look at me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Will stroked his hair, and let Connor settle against him.

"I'm not going anywhere," he repeated, softer, a promise. "I'm right here. You're okay here."

"It's my fault. It's all my fault," Connor muttered. 

"It's not. Ava is at fault, not you. You didn't do it."

"I let her in. I loved her. I –"

"Her taking advantage of you and your feelings for her doesn't make it your fault. You're a good man, who would never do this. What she did is on her."

"She died," Connor whimpered. "Because of me. She killed my dad, and then herself, because of me."

"No, love, no. Not at all. That's not you. That's never been you."

"I wish I were as sure as you," Connor said. Sometime recently, Will and Connor had become more than friends, but not quite dating. They were something, but it didn't have a name. It didn't need one, he supposed. All that mattered is that he could count on Will, that even when he was at his lowest, Connor could reach out and find Will's hand, steady and sure in his belief that Connor was worth his time. 

"Well, luckily, I can be sure enough for both of us until you get there."

"Okay," Connor said, and he took a deep breath, taking in all of Will's warm scent, the cologne and the fried chicken from dinner and the faint smell of dog. It was perfect. When he was alone, he felt empty, reaching for something that he couldn't name. Will felt safe, a place he could rest, reorient, prepare for whatever came next. Will wasn't the solution to the ache in his chest, but he was much like a salve on a wound, dulling the pain until he could breathe and function, healing slowly on his own but not alone in the efforts. Will made him feel okay for once. "Can I stay the night?"

"You can stay more than just the night, Connor," Will said softly, "but we can start with getting through tonight together."

[tvrningout-a]

i think it's just a headcanon kind of night, so have some more chiyo thoughts! only this time, we're talking her a.tsv au B)

i sure do wish i could draw what i'm imagining her spidey costume to look like, bc i think chiyo would lean into the whole " jorogumo " thing and mash the usual skin-tight suit with a traditional kimono. or maybe a yukata? it might not be necessary to get into specifics asdf but basically she'd like to still wear the suit, but she'd like to have a kimono/yukata-esque top, too. jorogumo is often depicted wearing a kimono, and tbh! it would make chiyo feel more at ease with more layers on. no skirt for mobility reasons, though!

btw can you imagine being s.pider-woman and your company asks you to illustrate a s.pider-woman oneshot?? the way chiyo would choke and try to decline bc she'd just cringe the entire time and feel so awkward drawing herself even though!! no one would know!! but she'd know and probably naoki bc let's be honest -- he probably finds out pretty quickly that she's leading a second life.

i know i'm writing chiyo as a senior in high school for her a.tsv au, but it's still a funny thought uvu people could still try to commission her for fanart and she'd just be dying inside

i like to think that chiyo's uncle ben worked at alchemax, and that's how she got the internship there. after he dies, she bonds a lot with one of the scientists -- her dr. connor -- aaaaand you can guess which villain she eventually faces first. chiyo doesn't continue her internship after that.

going back to naoki finding out, i'm so sure aunt mei finds out, too, bc chiyo and naoki are arguing waaaaay too loudly about something concerning the spidey stuff. she opens the door to tell them dinner's on the table, and naoki's heatedly telling chiyo off for doing something stupid -- who cares that she's s.pider-woman! she's still just a teen -- and all of them go super silent. dinner is... interesting that night asdf

chiyo finding out she can shoot sticky, paralytic webbing was a nightmare bc i'm certain she managed to paralyze herself at some point, or at the very least, she got herself stuck to something for an hour.

speaking of which, i'm thinking the effects of chiyo's venom last for 30 minutes, though ofc the closer to that 30 minutes, the more movement the person gets back. that's why she tries to rely on her actual glue-like webbing to immobilize opponents rather than the venom.

just a small detail that once again most likely won't pop up, but most civilians will call chiyo " gumo-san " for short rather than the full name! " gumo " is the actual word for " spider, " and it's less of a mouthful than " jorogumo "

this got longer than i meant for it to be asdf so i'm gonna stop here, but pls feel free to ask me questions if there's anything you're curious about <3

[thisbetternotawakenanything]

Teaser trailer fuck yeah let’s look at costumes!

Everybody’s favourite reprehensible people show is ready to tease us, let’s see what we can glean from the attire, shall we? The resolution is Twitter shitty, and I’ve pumped up the chroma so we can see colour themes on the blurry pile of screen caps, but let’s go anyway!

First: Team Logan. He’s still in the blue and blue squares we’ve come to recognise as being his attire of loyalty signalling. Hope you choke on your cheesecake, Logan! The Egg and the Egg Sucker got dressed together over FaceTime. Note the entire room of core yes men and women cloaked in blue, and Gerri is wearing PANTS, which is such a radical departure for her I worry for her mental health. But she’s also rocking a punk for her triple ear piercing (J Smith Cameron’s IRL ear piercing, will it disappear before it airs?), and I’ve decided to imagine Roman talked her into that at some point. Kerry in a blue suit version of her Italy pink suit says, “Who’s got the supermax pussy grip now, Marcia? I’m bringing Business Pussy. His favourite.” I am vomiting up my lunch. That purple circle is possibly Laird! Bring back Laird! Logan also addresses his blue and grey company drones, with a beige assist from Cyd Peach.

Now let’s deal with Team Progeny:

ALERT! Roman’s wearing his Probably Fucked Gerri In An Alternate Universe YACHT SHIRT. But also a little piece of flair on his right wrist. What does it mean Miley Screaming dot gif?! I wish I could see his pants. Roman’s always been blue too, but the fact he’s holding on to his blue status despite being booted from the Waystar nest? He’s still bootleg Logan, and still connected in his heart and mind. Gerri in blue, Roman in blue. Can you feel the YEARNING? Connor in blue, no surprises there. Shiv still dragging her beige behind her from season 3, only she’s added some Kendall signature brown to indicate her emotional landscape is fucked. Kendall is still skulking in Earth tones, pretending he’s in touch with planet earth. They’re in LA and Shiv is happy about it. That pink room in (presumably) some LA house! That pink (NY)karaoke bar! Just when you thought Roman’s undershirts couldn’t get sluttier than Italy, somebody put this one on a really hot wash and now it’s so tight we have no choice but to jerk off suffer. Is he feeling constricted, or sexy? Why not both? Undershirt plus business pants including belt is basically Roman’s pyjamas, so his moody hot beverage on a balcony enjoyment tracks with that. Roman, you’d better be on the phone to Gerri (10-20% chance he is) and I’d love it if that bracelet was somehow meaningful in a wanting Gerri to love you way, but I’m not holding my breath. But your long distance couples costuming has been noted!

Bets on which song Connor makes them sing at karaoke? And how much peer pressure will it take to make Roman join in? If it’s We Are The Champions I will catapult myself into the sun. I have a feeling Gerri might be living some season 1 plot deja vu.

Bonus: Excited for Norway!

[americaswritings]

Be my date tonight?

Warnings: some old guy can’t take a hint, language

Prompt: “Can you pretend to be my date tonight?”

Summary: Connor and you have to attend a charity event to represent the hospital and win over some donors. One man can’t seem to leave you alone so you ask Connor to be your fake date for the night. 

Words: 2.3k

Pairing: Connor Rhodes x reader 

A/N: I am obsessed with Chicago Med at the moment and Connor Rhodes, we need more fanfiction for him! I am currently on s4. This imagine is a bit shorter than what I usually write. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! :)

Add yourself to my taglist!

Masterlist

You downed your drink in one swift motion, grimacing as the alcohol burned down your throat. You just wanted to leave, but you were supposed to spend the evening talking to the hospital’s big donors. 

You had been told multiple times how important this event was for the hospital, and you had been chosen to represent it. So you didn’t have a choice.

But you really wished to be anywhere else than here. You stared into your empty glass, debating whether you should order another drink. Being a little tipsy would make the evening more bearable, but you couldn’t risk embarrassing yourself in front of all these people.

“Looks like you’re enjoying yourself”, someone next to you spoke up and you turned to the man, who had just arrived at the bar. 

“You’re late”, you greeted him with a huff, not trying to hide your anger. “It’s good to see you too, (Y/n)”, Connor chuckled, ignoring your attitude towards him. You saw his eyes roam over your body, and it send a shiver down your spine.

Connor hadn’t seen you wear anything other than scrubs before, so you had been a little nervous when you had first heard that the two of you were supposed to attend a charity gala together. 

You enjoyed dressing up every once in a while, but your crush on your co-worker made it a more nerve wrecking experience than usual.

Eventually you had decided on your favorite dress, one that you loved on yourself and gave you the confidence you would need.

“You look amazing”, he stated, and you felt yourself blushing, feeling a little flustered. He knew you were mad at him for showing up late and probably just wanted to get on your good side again, but you still couldn’t help the excitement that filled you at his compliment.

“Thanks”, you mumbled, abandoning the glass in your hands on the counter and turning towards him to get a look at him too. Of course he looked handsome, he always did, but you had never seen him in a suit before. You hated how the sight caught you off-guard and that Connor seemed to pick up on your reaction.

Damn, as if he wasn’t confident and cocky enough already.

Suddenly you saw someone moving into your direction from the corner of your eyes. You peeked over Connor’s shoulder to get a better look and groaned as you recognized the person walking towards the two of you. “Oh shit”, you let out and you saw Connor furrowing his brows. 

He wanted to turn around to find out what had caused your reaction, but you quickly grabbed his shoulders, turning him back in your direction. An idea had popped into your head. It was ridiculous, but you didn’t have another idea and no time to weight your options. 

And you were desperate.

“Can you pretend to be my date tonight? Please?” Normally you would have felt ashamed for how desperate you sounded, but right now you didn’t care. All you could think about was that you didn’t have the energy to deal with the man approaching you again.

You saw Connor’s expression turn into one of surprise as his eyes tried to find a hint for your behaviour in yours. “I will explain later”, you hurried to add. 

Connor didn’t have time to respond as a man in his sixties reached the two of you. “Hello again”, he greeted you and you forced a smile on your lips. Connor was still glancing at you, but then his eyes focused on the man in front of you. 

“Hey, I am Connor Rhodes.” He extended his hand for the man to shake, who’s eyes were still fixed on you. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, but then his eyes finally left you. “Teddy Bennet”, he introduced himself to Connor, shaking his hand.

“I wasn’t able to take my eyes off you, so I had to come over and ask you for a dance again”, the man addressed you once more and you gulped. “I noticed”, you said with a polite smile, trying to come up with an answer that could save you from having to dance with the man, who had bothered you all evening.

Couldn’t he take a hint?

“Actually, I am her date tonight”, Connor suddenly spoke up and it took all in you not to show your surprise. You hadn’t expected him to go along with your idea, at least not without a proper explanation. But it seemed that his trust in you was big enough.

“And we were just on our way to the dance floor, weren’t we?”, he turned to you, a fond smile on his lips. “Yeah, yeah we were”, you quickly agreed, stumbling over your words as you were still in shock.

The relief that you felt now that you weren’t alone anymore almost made you want to cry. With Connor by your side, you felt much safer. He wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

And he knew you, likely better than anyone. You two had worked along each other for a little over a year at this point, and in your job that meant always being able to rely on the other and trusting them.

Over the time you had learnt to read Connor like no one else, and you could communicate without words.

You were sure he had picked up on your discomfort and noticed that your smiles were anything but genuine. And you knew he would make sure that this man wouldn’t bother you.

You tried to convey all your gratitude in your gaze to him while Connor was looking at you with a little worry in his eyes.

“That’s a shame!” You nearly flinched as Teddy spoke again but pulled yourself together and sent him an apologetic smile. 

“I am not giving up so easily. I will try my luck again next time”, he announced before finally walking off.

“I don’t doubt you will”, you muttered under your breath, watching him retreat to the other guests. When he was out of sight, you let out a breath of relief, the tension leaving your shoulders now that he was gone. 

When you turned back to Connor, you saw his lingering gaze on you. “You want to explain that to me?”, he asked, and you sighed, but knew he deserved to know.

“Fine.” You opened your mouth to begin, but Connor shook his head. “Not here”, he whispered and extended his arm for you. You hesitated, looking at him in question, but he sent you a look that told you to trust him. 

So you took his arm.

Immediately, Connor began guiding you away from the bar. “Where are we going?”, you asked, trying to distract yourself from the feeling of being connected to him that way.

In this moment it was official. Everyone who saw the two of you would think you were a couple and it made you feel a little proud.

“I said we would dance so now we’re dancing”, Connor declared, and you realized he was guiding you to the dance floor. “Oh, absolutely not! I don’t dance.” You tried to bring him to a halt, but it was too late. You had already reached his destination.

A little insecure you drew your arm back into your body, crossing your arms in front of your chest defensively. But Connor didn’t seem impressed. He leaned forward, which made your heart skip a beat.

“You owe me”, he reminded you, his voice so close to your ear that your breath caught in your throat.

You gulped and as Connor leaned back, you could see his satisfied smile. Both of you knew he had won. “Fine”, you muttered, allowing him to place his hands on your waist as you hooked yours around his neck.

Slowly you began to sway to the sound of the music. You let Connor guide you, since he seemed to have experience with it.

You had never been so close to him before and it suddenly made you very self-aware. You heart was beating rapidly in your chest, and you tried your best not to trip. “Relax”, you heard him whisper, having noticed how tensed you were. “It’s just me.”

His words were meant to soothe you, but little did he know that he was the reason you were so nervous. “Now tell me what happened that you were so desperate to ask me to be your date.”

You let out a huff and Connor chuckled, fully aware that his choice of words would upset you. “First of all, I wasn’t desperate”, you clarified, and Connor raised his brows to mock you. 

“You definitely were”, he insisted, and you rolled your eyes. “Maybe a little”, you admitted, which earned you another smile from him.

Even though it frustrated you that Connor was right and knew it, it was worth it, if it made him smile like that. You felt your knees going a little weak, but his strong arms held you in place.

“That guy, Teddy something-” “Bennet”, Connor chimed in, and you nodded. “Yeah. When I arrived, Goodwin introduced me to all the big sponsors. You know were not just here to make an appearance, but to convince them that their money is well placed with us. Possibly even win them over so they donate more money to the hospital.”

Connor listened attentively as you repeated what he had been told when he had first about the event. 

“Bennet is one of the big names. I was introduced to him right in the beginning and since then he has his eyes on me. He always appears where I am, and I have to make up excuses to escape him. I would love to turn him down, but I can’t. He’s too important. If we would lose a donor like him, that would really affect the hospital.”

Connor waited for you to finish, his eyes slightly narrowed and his jaw tensed. Signs that gave away he wasn’t pleased.

“That guy is like 30 years older than you”, he grimaced, and you nodded. “Exactly! He just won’t leave me alone”, you sighed in frustration. “So you figured if I pretended to be your date tonight, he would give up”, Connor concluded, and you nodded again.

He was silent for a moment, and you could see he didn’t look happy about what you had just told him. You had thought he might mock you, because some old guy was hitting on you, but Connor could see how uncomfortable it made you feel, and it just made him angry.

“That’s smart”, he stated, a small smile on his lips, and you felt your eyes light up a little. You felt oddly proud at his compliment, knowing how rare Connor praised people. But when he did, it was full of respect and honesty.

“But you shouldn’t have to use another man as an excuse for not being interested in him. Just because he has money, he thinks he can do whatever he wants and get away with it!” You hadn’t expected Connor to be so upset on your behalf and you quickly put a hand on his cheek, a gesture meant to reassure him.

“I know”, you stated. “But it’s fine. It worked, didn’t it?” Connor sighed, but you knew your gesture had calmed him enough not to go after Bennet and cause a scene. 

“I am sorry I was late. I wish I would have been here sooner”, he confessed, and you felt touched by his concern for you. You had wished the same, but you could handle yourself, Connor knew that. You just hated that you weren’t allowed to.

Holding back felt wrong, but you wouldn’t be the one who would make the hospital lose an important donator. Because in the end it would affect your co-workers and the patients, and you didn’t want to be responsible for that.

The song ended and you broke apart, a heavy silence between you. “Want to get a drink?”, Connor offered, and you agreed.

“Only a few hours left and then this event is finally over”, you commented as you reached the bar and you saw an amused smile on his lips. “I can’t wait for the next one”, you muttered under your breath, downing the drink the bartender had placed in front of you.

Connor was watching you with creased brows. “What?” “I was just thinking”, he explained, and you raised your brows in question.

“This definitely won’t be the last charity event we’re forced to attend. And he’s one of the big donators, so he will probably be at future events too.” “Oh, don’t remind me”, you sighed, but Connor wasn’t done yet.

“What if we just continued this? I could be your date for these events. That way there won’t be any men harassing you.”

His suggestion caught you by surprise. You took a moment to let his words sink in, going over them again and again in your head in search of something you had missed. “You want to pretend to be my date for every event we have to be present at? Are you sure about that?”

The idea was exciting to you, and it could save you a lot of trouble in the future. But what was Connor getting out of it? Why would he do what for you? 

“Why not? It could save you from these-”, he trailed off, looking around, deciding not to finish that sentence since you were surrounded by other people. “Not that you would need to be saved”, he added, and you rolled your eyes, but with a smile on your lips. 

“And it could give me an excuse to dance with you.”

“You don’t need an excuse for that”, you told him surprised that he seemed interested in that. “I will keep that in mind”, he smiled, and you grinned back at him. 

“So it’s a deal?”

You didn’t have to think twice about it.

“It’s a deal!”

Who would have thought that there would be a part of you, that was looking forward to the next event you two had to attend. 

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[chasingpj]

𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

"Bye, for now, puddles."

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 6,220

warnings: a little angst, missing a meal, death of a parent, i believe that is all.

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story, click here

a/n: hi hi! I'm so excited to finally get this chapter to you guys. I'm sorry this literally took a month. i was taking two writing-intensive courses this summer and i was just burnt out. i hope you enjoy it!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten

A grunt escapes you; your contorted body weighs down the top of your suitcase as your damp fingers slip off the metal zipper. The unforgivingly humid weather provokes the heat of your efforts, adding to your discomfort. There’s urgency in your fingers, your frustration growing at each failed attempt to close your suitcase.

“Y/n! Hurry up!” Atticus shouts from outside of the Hermes cabin. As the zipper slips out of your grasp once again, you throw your head back in annoyance, hand coming up to push away wisps of hair that fall on your face. A familiar chuckle comes from the corner of the room, grabbing your attention from the wooden ceiling. Connor sits on the side of his bed; his comic book forgotten beside him as you fussing over your suitcase seems to be more interesting to him.

“It’s not funny,” you grumble, sitting onto your heels.

Connor rises from his bed, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk. He kneels by your suitcase, “It’s kinda funny.”

The corners of your mouth almost curve up, but you stop yourself, opting for a roll of your eyes instead.

“What the hades do you have in here?” The tips of his fingers turn white as he pulls on the little piece of metal. You shift your weight to the corner he works on, but it helps him as much as it helped you earlier.

“My brother’s left a bunch of books behind, so Lou Ellen and I split them up. She’s taking half, and I take the rest. We’ll study them and then exchange notes.” A hum of acknowledgment comes from Connor’s lips as he inches the suitcase closed.

“You guys are a bunch of nerds.” You squint at the other with a playful offense, and he laughs at your hardened features. “I bet you guys study more than the Athena Kids,” he teases.

“There’s a lot to learn,” you say simply, watching as he brings the zipper to the end. He leans back on his heels, and you move to take in the half-empty cabin.

The sight of the Hermes cabin being this tidy was foreign. There aren’t any sleeping bags on the floor; the belongings of your many cabin mates didn’t clutter the walls or the corners of the room as they usually do. It’s funny. There are always complaints of the cabin being too small, but it appears bigger without the mess.

“Will you and Atticus visit throughout the year?” Connor’s expression is hopeful. As the last day of camp approached, Connor’s wishes of a full cabin all year round became more apparent. The shift from a max-capacity cabin to a half-empty one must be a tough transition for social people like Stoll Brothers. If it were you, you’d be counting down the days of everyone’s departure.

You ruffle his brown locks, “we’ll probably stop by for, maybe, spring break?” Connor’s hopefulness begins to sag, and you frown. Spring break is pretty far from now, huh? “Depending on how mortal life treats us. You know, we might be back soon,” you add on quickly, hoping to lift his smile.

Though you wish to go home, you’re dreading all the supernatural activity you’ll have to deal with once you leave. Your father works tirelessly to protect the house, but entities always manage to get in. And if they can’t, they don’t mind hanging outside.

The hopefulness that faded from Connor’s face restores, and he gives you that famous mischievous smirk. “Well, I hope the ghosts bother you guys enough to come to visit early.” His tone is playful, but you can tell he meant some of his words. You laugh hesitantly and nod, rising from your suitcase.

“I’m glad you’re that eager to see us again.”

You thank him as he leans down, lifting the heavy suitcase from the ground for you.

“Y/n!”

“I’m coming!” You tug on the handle, glancing at Connor. “The year will go by fast, and soon this cabin will be bursting at the nails with new unclaimed people. Atticus, Lou, and I included. Anyways, you have your brother. You guys will find something to entertain yourselves.” You nudge him as you make your way outside.

“Yeah, you’re right. You will write to me, yeah?” Connor asks.

“Of course. I’ll send you snacks that you can’t buy at the gas station.” Connor’s arm pumps back to his side, hand in a fist as he hisses a “yes.”

The corners up your mouth hesitantly pull up as you push open the cabin door, finding Atticus and Travis talking on the porch. For the past week, the anticipation of your departure was killing you, but now that it was time to leave, you feel gloomy.

You knew the cause of your heavy heart was the uneasy tone of your going. Living day by day with the intention of moving on was hard. Because every time you look at their newly occupied beds, the sinking feeling in your chest returns. Every time you find yourself wandering in the forest, the memories of your often chaotic magic lessons flood your mind. You remember when Alice misaimed her wind spell, shooting Alabaster far into the trees. While you all rushed to check on him, Alice burst into tears because she was convinced she killed him only to approach a laughing Alabaster who shouted, “Right on!”

Every time you were in the Arts and Crafts center, you remember how you, Sage, and Lou would do Tarot Readings for the campers and how you would argue with the Apollo kids when they insisted your tarot cards are as honest as fortune cookies.

At the armory, you remember how Ambrose ran into James so hard, he stumbled and knocked down half of the shelves of weapons.

In the courtyard, you remember how Ernest, horrified by heights, produced the highest pitch scream he possibly could as he rode a pegasus for the first time under the persuasion of Alabaster.

All these memories, whether hilarious like your spell mishaps or bittersweet like when you and your sibling’s group hugged around Sage when she cried about her abusive stepmother, held a special place in your heart. Because the times where you laughed and cried together reminded you of the genuine bond, the family that was ripped away from you overnight.

“We'll see you guys soon. We should go. Argus will leave without us," Atticus says, relieved that Argus is still waiting for you on top of Half-Blood Hill.

“Have a safe trip, guys,” Travis says, patting Atticus’s shoulder before reaching out his arm and giving you a short side hug. You grab your things, hastily saying a final goodbye, and soon, you and Atticus are trudging up the hill.

Your free hand pats the pocket of your shorts, calming your worry of forgetting the necklace at the cabin. What rests in your pocket is a raw tourmaline crystal, now smooth with the help of Beckendorf, encased in a silver spiral cage.

You and Atticus carry protection crystals all the time, and they help with staying out of the radar of monsters and entities. After hearing Percy’s many stories of monsters bothering him, you figured he couldn’t be too cautious. Then after finding a spell in Alabaster’s many books that can dim down a demigod scent for a while, you decided to make him an enchanted necklace to wear.

You pack into the truck with Atticus right on time. Atticus sits in front of you, chatting away with Cecil as you make yourself comfortable in the back row with Ambrose. You frown; among the three other campers in the van with you, Percy isn’t one of them. Argus peeks into the back, doing a rough headcount. Great, now you’ll have to wait until next summer to give it to him.

Right, when you were going to chastise yourself for not giving him the necklace yesterday when you were done with it, a distant voice shouts, "wait!"

Argus halts in the middle of closing the sliding down and turns around. He shakes his head with disapproval while opening the door all the way, revealing out of breath Percy.

A smile widens across your face as he gets into the back seat with you, and you nudge Atticus’s seat.

"See, I told you we wouldn't be the last ones here.” You side-eye Percy, seeing the corners of his mouth pull up in amusement.

“Some people just don’t know how to get to places on time, huh?” Atticus says, and his eyes flicker to Percy before giving you a wide grin.

“Didn’t sleep in today, firefly?” There is a playfulness in Percy’s voice, and you smile proudly,

“Nope, not today.”

“It’s a miracle,” Percy mutters, loud enough for you to hear, and you scoff. Atticus snickers and nods in agreement.

“We were supposed to gang up on him, not you two on me.” You stick your tongue out at Atticus, and he returns the action.

“It’s more fun making fun of you,” Atticus teases.

“Rude,” you mumble with a slight smile on your face. The two boys chuckle, Atticus turning more into his seat to tell Percy something about a new Marvel movie. Excited voices fill the van as the other boys join in the conversation, and soon they are debating if Batman is really a superhero or just a rich guy in a suit.

You had to admit, as the conversation became more passionate, you were pretty entertained, but as you catch sight of Camp Half-Blood growing farther in the distance, you’re reminded of the ache in your chest. It’s only a temporary leave, but when you return, things will never be the same, and the false hope of your siblings returning has been proven to be foolish.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

Following a ghost dog while weaving through the hustle and bustle of Grand Central is almost impossible. Atticus’s hand is latched to the straps of your bookbag as you move through people, trying not to roll your eyes at the way Ambrose turns to bark as if he was reprimanding you for being too slow. Easy for him to say when he can walk through walls and people.

“Track 28,” Atticus reminds you as your eyes find the number written on the tan bricks of the high walls. You make a sharp left towards the entrance of another hallway, ignoring the groans of a grouchy bystander that you may have cut off. The next hallway you enter is a lot less crowded than the main floor, and you slow down your pace.

“Where do you guys live again?” Percy asks as he jogs up beside you. He had insisted on walking you guys since his train departs in the same station.

“Sleepy Hollow.” Percy scrunches his face as if he recalls something, and you smile, waiting for the question everyone asks when you say you live there.

“Have you seen the headless horsemen?” Percy asks, half-joking. A snort leaves your throat, and you look at Atticus, who’s equally amused.

“Oh yeah, plenty of times.”

“Really?” Percy asks, his eyes wide with surprise, and you laugh.

“No.” Your response makes his face drop comedically fast, and Atticus bursts into laughter. “It’s just a story, but there’s a lot of history there, so the place is crawling with ghosts. We’ve met the guy who wrote the story, though,” you mention.

“No way,” Percy squints his eyes in disbelief.

“I’m serious! Atticus and I take walks in the cemetery sometimes. We leave drachmas on the graves of newly passed people, so their venture into the underworld is smooth, but some people like to wander.” You shrug. “Washington Irving is one of those people.”

“Cool,” Percy says with such enthusiasm that it makes you smile. Ambrose turns around and barks again, standing at the golden entrance that leads to the grey tunnel lit with fluorescent white lights where your train waits beside the concrete platform.

“He always rushes us,” Atticus complains, and Harvey lets out a coo that sounded close to a groan as if he agreed with him.

The marble floors turn to concrete as you enter the tunnel. The blue and silver train on your left hums as it sits dormant in its station. Ambrose trots ahead, peaking into the doors and windows to find an empty cart to occupy.

As you follow a few feet behind him, your fingers fiddle with the necklace resting in your pocket. You’re regretting not giving it to Percy earlier because, for some reason, the idea of giving it to him now was more intimidating than if you had done it earlier on the bus.

Ambrose decides on a cart, and Harvey jumps off Atticus’s shoulder, squealing happily as he follows the hound while completely ignoring a worried Atticus trailing close behind.

"I, uh, made this for you," you sputter, the words coming out fast like vomit. Your fingers pull out the crystal necklace abruptly, and you put it in the palm of his hand. "It's black tourmaline. It has protective qualities; good at keeping negative energy, negative auras, things like that. I put a spell on it to dim down your demigod scent for a while, so you catch a little bit of a break. It'll last for a few weeks, maybe a month or two if the spell caught on well."

You bite your lip as Percy studies the necklace resting in his hand. "Wow, really? Thank you, Y/n. This is great.”

Nervous, you shift on your feet under his bright, smiling orbs. "It's no problem. After everything that happened at camp, I think it’ll be good for you to have one.”

Percy nods, his features softening all of a sudden, and he shifts. “Thanks for protecting me,” he says, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. “Getting rid of that thing became more than you expected. I felt bad that I couldn’t help. Swords aren’t really useful when it comes to demons, huh?”

A small laugh of agreement leaves your lips. “It was nothing. I wasn’t going to let you be tormented by that thing if I could help it.”

An announcement echoes in the hall, reporting the departure of your train in a few minutes. You glance over, catching Atticus, Ambrose, and Harvey with their noses practically pressed against the window as they witness your interaction with Percy. The amused smirk on Atticus’s face makes you roll your eyes; he’s definitely going to tease you when you get on the train.

"I should go.” You face Percy again, catching him securing the necklace around his neck. The stone rests a few inches under his camp half-blood necklace. "Thanks for walking us here. Be careful getting home."

"You too…” he trails off, noticing your brother looking out the window. For a second, he seems as embarrassed as you do and a nervous chuckle leaves his lips. “Your brother is waiting."

“He’s so annoying,” you complain, and Percy’s next chuckle doesn’t sound as hesitant this time. "Well, uh, bye, for now, puddles,” you tease, butterflies dancing in your stomach.

"Bye, for now, firefly."

You both awkwardly wave at each other before you turn around, getting on the train with Atticus. With your gaze fixed on the floor, you plop into the seat next to him. You don’t even need to look to know he is smiling teasingly at you.

"How cute,” he teases, nudging your shoulder repeatedly with his own.

"Ew, shut up.” You shove at his shoulder, your nose scrunching as he flails his arms against yours as if you were fighting. Atticus chuckles and a string of sounds come from your familiars as they join in to tease you, and you couldn’t help but laugh too.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

The suburban streets of your neighborhood are filled with the chirps of birds and bugs and the sounds of cars that pass every once in a while. There isn’t much conversation between you and Atticus as you trudge up the hill leading to your dead-end street.

“Gods, I hope we can get inside without being seen,” you manage to say through your heavy breaths, lazily holding on to the handle of your suitcase as it rolls behind you. Ambrose’s nose nudges the back of your knees as if to encourage you, but it’s more cute than helpful.

“There’s no way that we are. Janie and Celia are always sitting on the neighbor’s porch.” You grunt in acknowledgment, knowing that Atticus is right. The neighborhood ghosts are friendly enough, but their company can be annoying.

As if on cue, you hear a delighted squeal from ahead the moment you reach the top of the hill. Two ladies wave their handkerchiefs in the air a handful of houses away.

Celia, the tallest of the two, wears a steel blue dress with a high neckline and a big bow tied on the base of her neck. She has a jacket button closed over her corset with a frill at the end of her sleeves. Her skirt is floor-length and complete, with ruffles cascading down its entirety. And, of course, no one can miss the high-crowned hat decorated with fake flowers, bows, and crimped fabric as it all sits on top of her blonde hair in an intricate updo. Janie, her sister, wears the same style of dress and headpiece only in a burgundy red. The resemblance between the two makes it clear that they’re siblings close in age. They have the same high pinched noses that jut in the air; both of their faces are regal like those in renaissance paintings.

You’ve seen them around for as long as you can remember. They were two sisters who died of scarlet fever a year before their first courting season, which was a big deal according to their constant moaning and groaning about it.

You look ahead, your expression blank as if their high-pitched voices didn’t fill the streets and they weren't racing toward you with their skirts in their hands.

“My word! It’s the end of summer already?”

“Atticus, you’ve grown taller!”

“What a handsome boy! Y/n, your shorts are too short, don’t you think?”

“It’s quite bizarre how such clothing is acceptable these days.”

“How beautiful you’d look in a gown like ours!”

“Where’s Alabaster?” Janie asks, attempting to circle her arm around Atticus’s, but he raises his arm to push back his damp hair to avoid the contact. She scoffs at his rejection and sighs.

“Alabaster was sweeter to us than you guys!” Celia pouts. Your heart sinks a little at the mention of him. Of course, they’d ask about him, and of course, your father will ask too.

Gods! Your father will ask about him.

You had forgotten you’d have to break the news today. These past few weeks, you debated whether or not you should do it by letter, but it felt wrong. It was only right that he’d find out in person.

“We know you can hear us,” Janie huffs.

“I hope dad doesn’t work late tonight. Do you think Grandma will be waiting for us?” You ask. As annoying as it was having spirits follow you, it was a little fun ignoring them when convenient for you. Atticus nods,

“Probably-”

“No one’s home,” Celia cuts in, and Atticus pretends to shoo a bug away to conceal that he paused from her interruption.

“But I don’t think dad is going to take long. He said his last lecture ended at three,” Atticus continues, and you nod.

‘I hope grandma came by to visit. I missed her.”

“I just said no one’s home.” Celia snaps, and you press your lips together to hide your smile.

Atticus sighs. “I know, I’m dying for those moon cookies she makes us.” At the mention of those cookies, your stomach grumbles. You hope Celia was wrong because you’re suddenly craving your grandmother’s cooking and her company. Her funny stories and voice that’s always a little too loud for the indoors never fails to cheer you up. As short and frail as she is, her voice and personality could fill a room.

“Me too,” you say shortly.

“Hello?!” Celia waves her handkerchief in your face, and you persisted in ignoring her. Suddenly, a sound of disgust comes from Janie as she brushes off her skirt.

“Y/n, retrieve this monster of yours!” She squeals as Ambrose bites the fabric of her dress, tugging on it with a growl.

“Damn this dog,” Celia shouts, attempting to shoo him away, but yelps in surprise as Ambrose snaps his jaw shut near her hand. “Get this thing under control! Y/n!”

Your hand comes up to cover your smile even though the two are shuffling behind you and a stifled chuckle comes from Atticus. The sound of Janie’s heels on the concrete becomes louder as she rushes beside Atticus again, and your smiles drop. The sight of your house comes into view, and you tilt your head confused; your father’s car is parked in the driveway.

“You said no one was home?” You say out loud, and Celia gasps beside you,

“Now you speak to me?” She snaps, halting as you approach the fence. She stands tall, hands folded in front of her elegantly as Janie’s expression is gleaming like a child on Christmas. “Your father requested to keep it a secret, so I obliged his wishes. He canceled his last lecture today to make you both a meal. What a lovely man.”

Your hand finds the latch for the white picket fence as you smile at the familiar narrow victorian-style house ahead of you. A path of cobblestone leads you to the brick steps of the small porch.

Your home sticks out from the more modern American houses that surround the area. It’s an antique, a snippet of history, as your father likes to say. The house is a russet brown only because the bricks are so old they’ve darkened in color. The house accents such as the window trims, porch overhang, and columns are copper, and the hipped roof has brown tiles that look like fish scales. Beside the porch, the bay windows from both stories stack on top of each other, and above the porch roof is the dormer that’s a part of your bedroom.

Gods, you’re yearning to be in your room. You just want to pull out your Murphy bed from the wall and bury yourself in your sheets. The idea of being in bed puts a pep in your step, and you are careful to avoid the salt ring that surrounds your house.

A butterfly passes by your face, flying to the bunchberry bushes your father has planted in the front garden. Among the grass, there are various flowers and herbs that your father grows in the summer. You’ve inherited many things from your father, but his green thumb isn’t one of them. He takes his gardening seriously while you can barely keep the cacti in your room alive.

“Enjoy your meal! Come talk to us one of these days. We missed you two!” Janie shouts after you as you make your way up the stairs. You turn around, Atticus smiling at them.

“We missed you, girls, too,” he says as if he didn’t want to admit it. Janie squeals something about how handsome his smile is, and you scoff, amused as you grab the doorknob.

Once you push the door open, you're hit with a rush of deja vu. The history channel plays faintly in the next room as you take in the home you’ve missed dearly.

There are two bookshelves against the wall on your right, a wide ledge with pillows under the bay windows. A messy coffee table filled with letters and stacked with books sits in front of the comfy reading nook, letting you know that your father was recently hanging out there.

There is a brown mahogany staircase that ascends upstairs to your left, and right beside it is the altar for your mother. A statue of her rests in the middle of the rectangle table covered in a black table cloth. On top of it lies the many offerings for your mom. Herb-dressed candles burn beside bowls of fruit, bouquets, a crystal enamel wine glass filled with alcohol, feathers, and other things. You ignore the altar as you put down your stuff beside the door, following Atticus as he takes off his shoes.

“Kids?” You hear your father call enthusiastically from beyond the foyer, and you persist forward into the entryway ahead of you.

“We’re home!” Atticus announces as he enters beside you. Ambrose barks making a beeline to the right and behind the kitchen counter. He jumps on your father with so much force he stumbles back.

“Gods! Why does he look even bigger?” Your father exclaims through a laugh, fixing the round glasses that threaten to slip off his nose as his other hand grips Ambrose’s paw. He yelps in surprise as Harvey's claws rest on top of his head, clinging to his hair to steady himself.

The warmth and smell of home fill your senses as you catch your dad’s gaze. “Well, come here! Are you going to hug your pops or what?”

You rush over with Atticus. Both of you hug your dad tightly on either side of him, and you smile as he presses a kiss on your temples. “I missed you guys so much!”

“We missed you too!” The smile on your face falters as he looks up, scanning the archway as if he was waiting for someone else. You shift, not ready to be faced with the question, and you peer around his body to look at the food on the stove behind him.

Your father notices your interest, and he chuckles. “Come on, let’s eat. You guys came right on time.”

You shuffle through the kitchen with Atticus, making your way to the rounded table at the end of the kitchen.

“Dad, what have you been up to?” Atticus asks teasingly, and your father perks up.

“I've done a lot of things to keep me busy. I volunteered to teach summer classes while you were gone. I’m reading this book with a fascinating perspective of the shift from Paganism to Christianity in Rome. It’s an amazing read; I highly recommend it. Though, I don’t quite agree with it.” Your father hums thoughtfully. “Oh! And I bought gnomes for our garden! And the thrift store had this little house and this old lady figurine! I put it on the porch. I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but she’s the official guard of the door," he declares proudly. "And…” He twists and turns before heading to the bookshelves in the living room area. He grabs something from the shelf then he showcases a cartoon Dobby bobblehead with wide arms. A high-pitched cackle leaves his lips. “It completes our collection!”

“Woah! Where did you get it? We went to three different places for it, and we couldn’t find it.” Atticus matches your father’s excitement, and you snort at the two.

“I went to a mythology convention in Boston a few weeks ago. There was a game stop across the street from the center, and I thought, ‘why not?’ I went in, and I saw this little guy by the register.” Your father is giddy as he nudges the head and watches it jiggle in his hands.

You think of what your grandmother’s reaction would be if she saw all the things he bought on his trip to the thrift store. She’d definitely complain. She always said that even growing up, your father had a liking for knickknacks. On your shelves and counters, there are always little trinkets lying around. It even extends to the walls, a variety of paintings and diagrams are neatly hung beside each other. From the state of your house, it’s clear your father is a maximalist in its purest definition.

“Wow! That’s awesome!” Atticus reaches out his hand for it as your father brings over his entire collection of Harry Potter bobbleheads, the toys huddled in his chest before he places them on the dining table. “The whole gang can hang out with us for dinner.”

“I hope they like pasta,” Atticus comments, lining them up as your dad retrieves the pan of food.

Your stomach grumbles at the sight, and you’re quick to serve yourself as Atticus and your Dad talk about anything and everything. You guys discuss what your grandmother has been up to, how your father’s classes were going, which led your father to ramble so much he formed a tangent on top of another. The conversation was going so well that you were sure he wouldn’t ask about your summer, but you had assumed too soon.

“So enough about me! How was Camp?” Your father chirps, and you shift in your seat.

You smile with confidence to hide the wariness you felt. “It was great!” You figured if you keep your answer short, you could move past it quickly.

“Yeah, the usual. Fun as always,” Atticus adds.

Your father’s eyes flicker between the two of you, and the first thing he notices is the way your smiles don’t reach the rest of your face.

The clanging of metal utensils on glass plates fills the room as the both of you fixate on your food but neither take a bite. The camp was never a touchy subject. The sudden unwillingness to speak about it makes his eyebrow cock up in suspicion. His eye averts to the empty dining chair beside you and the dinner place settings that remained untouched. Alabaster was supposed to join your return home. At least, that’s what he had assumed.

“Did Alabaster decide to stay at his foster home?” There’s caution in his tone, and he’s taken aback at how both you and Atticus tense up. The clings of metal halt abruptly, and slowly, you move to glance at your father.

“Dad, something happened at camp this summer.” Now, it was your turn to have a tone laced with caution. Alabaster lived with you for months and quickly became a part of the family. Your father saw him as his second son, and you were afraid to break the news that he may never see him again.

“What happened? Did he get into trouble?” You frown at the sudden edge in his voice. Atticus shifts beside you,

“He took the others to go fight for the Titan Lord.”

“What?”

“Mother came to speak to him and told him that it was best to fight for the other side since their chances are better,” you say slowly. “They left at the end of July. Only Atticus, Lou Ellen, and I stayed at camp.”

Your father’s expression darkens, grief written all over his face. “And you haven’t seen them since?”

You shake your head, not wanting to delve into the details. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing them again in a while and not in the best circumstances.” Your father nods, understanding the implication in your words. “Mother promised that she’d take care of them if they fight for the other side. I didn’t want to go; it wasn’t right.”

“That must be why everything is rotting,” your father mutters more to himself. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Rotting? What’s rotting?”

“Our offerings to your mother,” he clarifies. “All the fruit I leave on her altar goes bad in a few days. The flowers wither quickly too. The garden, in general, hasn’t been doing well either. I didn’t understand why.”

Your focus returns to your plate. Suddenly, you weren’t that hungry anymore.

She must be angry, you think to yourself. A part of you wanted a sign from her to let you know if she was bothered you didn’t join. When the sign didn’t come, you assumed she didn’t care; that, in a way, you were dead to her. It didn’t dawn on you to ask how the altar or the garden your father dedicated to her was doing.

“Can I be excused?” You strain, your face a little hot, and you’re not sure if it was from your anger or from the tears you’re blinking away.

“Of course.” The warm smile on your father’s face fails to budge the dread you’re feeling. “You can be excused as well, Atticus.”

You miss the way your father and Atticus exchange looks as you stood up. There wasn’t a verbal agreement, but Atticus stands up tall, determined to make you feel better. He trails behind you, and suddenly, he slings his arm across your shoulders. “You know what’s one of the things I missed at camp?”

“What?” You ask, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in your chest.

“Beating you at Tekken,” Atticus teases. Your lips curve slightly; his playful nature manages to brighten up your mood a little bit. “Let’s play. I’ll go easy on you, but I’m sure you’ll still lose regardless.”

“You’re on,” you nudge him, and Atticus chuckles, walking ahead of you and up the stairs. Your hand grips the railing, and you walk up a few steps before halting, and your eyes find the front door.

“You don’t get it!”

“I don’t.” You shrugged, amused at the way Atticus’s eyebrows knitted in disbelief. He ignored you, grabbed the remote, and played the Star Wars movie again. You groaned, seeing the slanted letters move up the TV screen. “Atticus! I can’t watch this!”

“Why not?!”

“Well, first off, my dyslexia won’t let me read that quickly, and if a physically written prologue is needed before a movie… it’s not a good movie!”

“How dare you!” You threw your head back as a laugh bubbled in your throat. The exasperated look on his face was too funny. You had no desire to watch these movies, and you figured if you bothered him enough, he’d give up trying to show them to you. The shrug of your shoulders made him scoff. “Just watch it!”

A huff left your lips, and unwillingly, you returned your gaze to the screen. Suddenly, a hollow knock came from the front door.

“It’s late,” you said, but Atticus was too caught up in the beginning battle of the movie to pay any mind to you. Rarely did you get visitors, definitely not past midnight on a Friday. Cautiously, you rose from the couch and moved toward the door.

Rain erratically hit against your curtain-covered windows; the wind and cold made the walls around you creak as they adjusted. Whatever waited for you at the door, you just wished it was a person, not a weird ghost or monster. Your finger latched on the side of the curtain, allowing you to peek through the glass of your front door.

A gasp left your lips. Alabaster, soaked from the ruthless rain outside, was the last person you expected to see. But even though you didn’t expect him, you had an inkling as to why he was here.

Hastily, you unlocked the door and flung it open. “Al?” You sputtered; his green orbs were surrounded by tired eyes and puffy skin.

“He died this morning,” he strained. Your expression softened, and before you could say anything, Alabaster stepped forward and hugged your shoulders tightly. The raggedness of his breath, the shutter of his body, sent your chest a weight of sorrow. You couldn’t imagine being in his shoes and losing your father to a long battle with cancer at 14. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes; the person you looked up to the most was breaking down. You never thought he would need your help for anything, but it seems that you were wrong. “I’m sorry. You guys live the closest to me, and I didn’t know where to go-”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted. “Oh, Al, I’m so sorry,” your voice cracked, hands rubbed his back as a sob left his lips. A creak of a floorboard caught your attention, and you turned to see a confused Atticus emerging from the living room. With a sad look, he understood what happened, and soon his expression was mimicking yours.

“I’ll wake dad and get clothes,” he said, then rushed upstairs.

Your father didn’t even hesitate to help Alabaster, opening the doors of your house to him. In his greatest time of need, the three of you stood beside him, and overnight, he had a place in your home and in your heart. The three of you spent so much time playing video games, getting into trouble around town, learning magic. All the good times you and Atticus shared with him, were they really worth throwing away to fight with Kronos? You realize now that his departure was never only a betrayal to the camp but to you, Atticus, and your father, and you couldn’t help but think perhaps, you guys didn’t mean as much to him as he meant to you.

A shaky sigh leaves your mouth at the thoughts persistent to ruin your mood. The desire to leave camp was to avoid all the things that reminded you of your siblings, but now that you returned home, you realize that running away isn’t as easy as you thought.

masterlist taglist: @xxyrr @nct127bee @mochabreezeee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @Slytherclaw-kitten @zhethugisa @-thatgirloverthere- @sanovr @passionswift @nanskidoodle @idk-bye-no @ilvermornyidiot @all-hailreyna @blackpopcorn @autmngirlworld @sunkissedskin1328 @Hermioneswifeee @quteez @hajigayy @aleksanderwh0r3 @drayshadow @tonyedwardstarkk @londoncherry @ashookykooky @lotusnegra666 @loverstyless @t0xicmuse @ohmydamgods @jordannfields @tomriddles-wh0re @chasingpj @pixietilly1924 @amy-writes-blog @muted-mayham @shawkneecaps @cbmelody @dreamerball @earthtokace @thehighladyofday @theverydramaticcabbage @lala-llama123 @tootsdoll @slytherindaughterofposeidon0 @black-rose-29 @somekidnamedkai @possiblylostchasecousin @silver-gemini @vodkavanity @hamdehlesmis @shadowsndaisies @cami05sworld @does-anyone-hear-me @scarlets-widow

if your username is bolded that means i can’t tag you ! you probably have your visibility settings on!

[connorandersons-blog]

Oooh…how about…

Connor/Markus in the key of Angst No. 10:

“How was I such an idiot, to believe that you, out of all people, could ever love me?”

So this ended up longer than I meant it to be, but honestly I’m loving it. I’m so sorry to those that love Simon (I do too but I needed someone to be the “bad guy” ish) And don’t worry it has a happy ending! Enjoy!

_________

Markus was… stunning. That was an understatement of the century, but Connor didn’t have the right words to say just how magnificent the man was. Everything he did was truly wonderful, and Connor just loves to watch him.

The way his eyes fluttered underneath his lids as he kept his eyes closed while he painted, his hand holding the brush like it was an extension of himself. He bared his soul with each painting and whenever he’d play the piano. His fingers are always so sure of themselves, never missing a key or pressing the wrong note.

Connor loved to watch him as he spoke to people whether it be to the millions around the world or just someone who needed a friend. Both were always so thoughtful, and Markus puts his full attention into it.

Even when Markus was just sitting and reading, he did it perfectly. Connor was addicted to watching his hand as it flipped the delicate page to reveal the new words for Markus to soak in. The way his face would change as he read, from surprise to annoyance, to absolute joy. He was always so very expressive.

Connor adored him, saw how inspiring he was to others, to Connor too, and knew whoever could call him a friend or even lover would be incredibly lucky. It’s why he was so very shocked when Markus confessed his love for Connor.

The first thing Connor had said was why? Why him out of everyone he could choose from? Markus's answer had made him gasp in understanding. He had said ’it wasn’t a choice, but if I could I wouldn’t change a thing.’

After that, it was just… perfect. Markus was the perfect lover, so caring and understanding, he was incredibly patient and adoring. When they made love, it was mind-blowing and left both sated and exhausted. Connor clung to him after those moments, knowing it was just for him. He could cuddle against him, Markus’s hand on the small of his back as his fingers danced over his skin slightly. It made Connor shiver and press closer, smiling against Markus’s skin as he kissed wherever he could.

He never really let himself worry because Markus would never do anything to hurt him, not when they loved each other. Sometimes those thoughts would creep up, but then Markus would turn to smile at him, or their hands would brush together and it would all be ok.

Markus and he ended up living together, and it gave them more time together than before. It was absolutely wonderful, those moments together that he wanted more and more of. He wanted to spend his entire existence with him and now he was finally going to ask.

Marriage had been a low priority given everything else they needed to cover. It had taken years until they pushed for marriage, but now it was official. Androids could marry whoever they wanted, human or android.

Most people would expect Markus to be the one to propose, but Connor had wanted to. Markus was always initiating and now it was Connor’s turn. He held the banquet of red roses in one hand, the velvet box in his pocket feeling incredibly heavy.

He could do this; they’ve been together for so long and it was the next logical step. He just really hoped Markus would say yes.

He knew Markus didn’t have a meeting, it was lunch break for everyone in the building and Markus took this time to relax some. Everything should be perfect, but when he opened the door, it absolutely was not.

There was Markus, standing in front of his desk, but Connor couldn’t really see him because Simon was in front, and Connor knew what was happening. It felt like his life stopped, everything turning ice-cold frozen around him as his eyes widened.

He couldn’t breathe, everything was stuck, not even the tears seemed to be able to break free to run down his cheeks. He should have known; they were always so close, but Connor had trusted them. Simon was their friend, had encouraged them to get together, and seemed happy for them.

He dropped the flowers and ran, not knowing where he was going but he just… he just had to go. He had to disappear.

He heard someone calling his name, probably Markus but he wouldn’t stop. How could he?! Why would Markus do this, why would Simon? Why did he let himself believe he deserved anything different?

He could barely even see, and he let out a scream as arms wrapped around his middle and pulled him back. He flailed his arms and legs as his chest hit something warm and solid.

“Connor! It wasn’t what it looked like! Please, please just let me speak.” Markus said, his breath coming out fast against Connor’s neck.

“No!” He wouldn’t let Markus talk; he knew how well he could talk people into things and Connor knew what he saw. “Fuck off,” he snarled. He wouldn’t hurt Markus no matter how much Markus was hurting him, no matter how much he wanted him to feel that pain.

Markus held tighter and thankfully didn’t try to kiss over Connor’s neck like he usually did when he’d hold him from behind. “No, Connor. I’m not going to let you go until you agree to listen.”

Connor grit his teeth, the tears hot on his cheeks. “How was I such an idiot, to believe that you, out of all people, could ever love me?” He should have known better. It was all a lie, a very well-constructed one, he’d give him that. All those times Markus said leading kept him busy, was he really with Simon?

“I do, I love you more than anything. I didn’t kiss him, he kissed me.” Markus squeezed him tighter against his chest and Connor almost wanted to elbow him to be let go.

More than anything he wanted to believe him, but it was just so hard. “Fine. Talk.” He wished he didn’t love Markus so much, if he didn’t then he would never agree to listen.

Markus let out a sigh, loosening his grip but not letting go. “Simon came in and asked to talk. I had no reason to deny him, and so I said yes. He told me that he’s in love with me and then he kissed me. He had said he just wanted it once and I tried to deny him, I don’t want him, but he kissed me anyway. I pushed him off right after, but you walked in right as he did it.”

Connor panted; his vision still blurry but now from the tears that he couldn’t stop. He hated how much it made sense, but it was hard to believe Simon would do that. Why would he kiss Markus when he had said no? Maybe it was just a kiss to do it once and then move on. He hoped that was it, but it hurt so much to have seen.

“I can interface, I’ll show you if you don’t believe me. But Connor, I love you, I’d never cheat.” Markus lets him go fully and Connor staggers forward. He wraps his arms around himself, turning slowly to see Markus staring at him with tears streaked down his face too. He held out his hand, the skin having receded.

Connor hugged himself even tighter, staring at the offered hand. All those times he interfaced with Markus there was never one lie. He didn’t think androids could change memories with an interface but what if he did?

He reached out and clasped their hands together feeling that connection form between them that became so natural for them. The memories fill his mind, and he is so used to this that he doesn’t stop his own memories from flowing to Markus.

He watched as it played out just as Markus said, and he felt the devastation and pure panic that washed over him as he watched Connor run off. He felt everything and then he was back in his own mind, the interface cut off. He was… telling the truth?

“You were… you were coming to propose to me?” Markus whispered, staring at Connor with wide eyes. Oh, shit.

His hand went down to his pocket where the box still was. “I was.” It was hard to tell what his emotions were, all of them were so overwhelming and confusing.

Markus chokes back a sob, covering his mouth with his hand. “Darling, shit. I’m, I'm so sorry, I promise you I’d never do anything to hurt you. I’m so in love with you.”

He pulls the box out, rubbing his fingers against the black velvet. “I know that you do, I’m still just, I don’t know. This went all wrong.”

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. If you still wanted to ask, and you don’t have to, but if you asked, I’d say yes.”

Connor sucked in a breath, gaping at the words. Markus would say yes, he’d marry Connor if he asked. “I, I don’t know, but do you want to see it?”

“Yes! I’d love to, I’m sure it’s gorgeous.”

Connor held out the box, opening it carefully. The ring was simple walnut wood, a small inlaid line around the middle of glittering diamond flakes. He thought it was very pretty and would suit Markus well… if he accepted. If he had proposed.

Markus smiled so bright that Connor almost felt the need to look away. “It’s perfect. I’d be honored to wear it but I understand if you don’t want to anymore. I’ll wait forever for you, I’ll do anything, but if… if you don’t even want to be with me that’s ok too. I’ll respect whatever you decide.”

He would, Connor knew he would. That was just the way Markus was, so giving and loving. He’d agree to whatever Connor decided on without making it a huge mess. It’s part of why he loves him so much. Why he still wants to marry him.

“Yes,” he breathes out and he watches Markus’s face crumple before he realized what that sounded like. “Yes, I still want to marry you.”

Markus’s face quickly shifts to pure joy as he reaches forward and yanks him into a crushing hug. He almost drops the ring at the suddenness, but he wraps his arms around him too.

They are both crying now but no longer from sadness, instead it’s exciting and filled with so much happiness neither can contain it.

They pull back and Connor pulls the ring out of the box and slides it onto Markus’s awaiting finger. It looks perfect there and then they are kissing, pushing all their love through the interface they started without realizing. It’s not how Connor thought it would go but still, it happened, and Connor couldn’t ask for anything more.

[yanderedbh-moved]

Kamski x F!Reader x Connor Polyship NSFW Alphabet

NSFW and yandere relationship below, please do not continue reading if this sort of content upsets you.

Word Count 3100

Requests are open, not just for DBH, I’m going to try and write for more fandoms in the future to prevent burn out, so you’re more than welcome to submit other fandoms if you wish! (As a matter of fact I’ve been on a MASSIVE Disney characters/villains kick right now... just saying...)

Donations are always welcome.

Link the similar N/S/F/W alphabet I made for a Connor x F! Reader x Kamski Polyship

Aftercare, are they very doting after sex?

Considering how Kamski is hardly the type of person to extend much sympathy or compassion to you without some kind of ulterior motive. Your expectations for him helping to soothe you after intimacy were low. This is not true, however, but perhaps not for the most wholesome of reasons. See, Kamski loves you in a rather objectifying way, as in you are one of his possessions, and he prides himself on taking excellent care of his belongings, you and Connor both. After sex, Kamski would help to clean you up, get you freshwater, a pain killer, some tea, anything you request to soothe you. He’s more than happy to oblige you with.

Predictably, Connor can’t help but wear his heart on his sleeve when he’s isolated with his lovers. Connor too, would want to help and get you cleaned up, but he would also be at your side, whispering sweet words in your ear, soft praises, and helping to put your mind at ease.

Body Part, their favorite body part of either their own body or yours

Kamski, like any craftsman, is rather proud of his strong hands, and by extension, the hands are always a feature Kamski can’t help but feel drawn to. Kamski can be a rather touchy-feely kind of person as well, so even if the two of you aren’t being sexually active at the moment, it’s tough for him to resist running his hands along your body and feeling your flesh against his. 

Connor and Kamski do share an affinity for the neck. Something about the thin flesh, your throbbing pulse, the body heat, it’s all so alluring to the men. Because of this, it’s nearly a constant guarantee your neck will be covered in bruises and bite marks while in their possession. While it may be a shame to tarnish such a lovely part of you, it will heal in time, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re ready for another fresh batch of scars and marks to cover your neck, collarbones, and chest.

Cum

There’s no one answer when it comes to Kamski. If he’s putting on a show, as in is taking you while he’s recording. (Whether you’re privy to this information or not) If he’s going down on you and another Chloe or two? In cases like these, Kamski loves to make a mess, leave you sticky. In private, it’s another story. The man is most meticulous with the cleanup.

Connor pretty exclusively prefers to cum inside you and wouldn’t really feel comfortable covering you in his seed, making a mess all over Kamski’s nice sheets. Your body is already so lovely in its naked form. Why would he feel the need to cover you up anymore?

Dirty secret

Kamski loves to record you during sex without your knowledge. Not just from Connor’s perspective, either. He likely has at least a few cameras set up to capture the moment at different angles. He imagines on a dull day leaking the footage of you like this, just to see how you’ll react. 

Connor finds the idea of you suffering from a complete and total mind break very attractive. The concept of a human, the one who he loves more than any other becoming nothing more than a braindead, submissive, obedient little toy for the deviant and his master to control. Another of Connor’s nastier tactics around you is isolation. Even though he does his best to appear the sweeter, more loving of the two, Connor punishes you by locking you away in the dark with no one to socialize with. To leave you so utterly depraved that you're practically crawling back to him, begging for forgiveness.

Experience

In a sense, both Kamski and Connor likely had little experience with human women before this relationship. Kamski occupying any physical needs of his own with the Chloes and Connor, never having a desire to pursue anyone before deviancy. However, Kamski isn’t the demure, shy type, and even if he may not have the most experience with a human lover, he’s been waiting and practicing for this moment.

Favorite Position

Considering how easy it is for Kamski to get in on some group action, it’s unlikely Kamski would simply identify as either a top or a bottom. He prefers more than one partner at a time. He wants to feel and experience sensations on more than one feeling all around him and is generally a more switch-type partner himself.

Connor, while still discovering more about sex and his own sexuality, generally prefers to face you during sex but is more than happy to obey orders and comply with whoever happens to be dominant in the situation. What Connor does know is he wants to touch and see you in all your beauty as much as possible.

Goofy, are they goofy or serious during sex?

Kamski really isn’t the kind of partner who would mess around too much before or even really during sex. He’s really such a slow and sensual type, the type of person trying to really commit to setting a mood.

Connor is less picky about this, however, if he senses one of his partners is really trying to set the mood seriously. He wouldn’t want to be disrespectful and ruin that. Though, if he feels you’re getting a little too intimidated by Kamski, he might try to “break character” and comfort you, promise you everything will be alright.

Hair, how well-groomed are they?

Kamski, who lived as a bachelor before he started this relationship, likely would’ve kept himself well-groomed “just in case.” He wants to sell people on his image of the perfect, polished, and well put together protégé. Leaving no detail unaccounted for. He, too, holds a preference for other people to be well-groomed. It’s a useful short handed way to show him you’re doing your best to be presentable, clean, and worthy of him. Connor, on the other hand, is nowhere near as strict as his partner is. However, he’d likely be more inclined to try different things or change details of his appearance if his partner were to request so.

Intimacy, Are they romantic in the moment?

It depends, with Kamski, but as for Connor, he feels most aroused and most in the mood for intimacy when he knows he’s the one giving you pleasure or when you’re the one yearning for him. Because of that, Connor is easily more inclined to take things relatively slow, communicate, whatever it is he thinks would work the best between the two of you. 

As for Kamski, he’s a bit tougher to read. Even as a yandere, and even if he is madly in love, he doesn’t ever wear his heart on his sleeve and is seldom easy to read. He likes to keep the tension high during sex and have your full attention on him, so imagine he’s more the type to shock you with a little rough play, draw blood or leave you needy and desperate after edging. 

Jack off, masturbation headcanon

Kamski is known for working long hours into the night or pulling allnighters in the name of productivity, and because of that, he feels no shame in relieving a little tension during breaks between projects. Even though he could use any android he desired to do the work for him, Kamski likes to watch the recordings he has of you having sex without you knowing you’re being recorded. Kamski is likely the type to flip flop between voyeurism and exhibitionism frequently.

Connor actually jacks off more than expected. As someone new and just coming into his own sexuality, he is still a little timid and self-conscience about some things and finds masturbation a more discrete way to explore and try out new kinks he’s curious about. 

Kink, one or more of their kinks

As mentioned above for Kamski, he flops back and forth between enjoying being watched and watching others without their knowledge. However, he also has an intense praise kink.

As of right now, Connor still falls into the “is willing to try anything once” in terms of most kinks. However, what he has noticed is the way he feels his arousal spike whenever your eyes widen and fill with fear. The way he can practically feel your adrenaline spiking is delicious to him and makes his feel so powerful and domination over you.

Location, their favorite place to get dirty

Neither would want to take you just anywhere, so the two would both likely agree the best place for intimacy is in the bedroom. However, Kamski likes to take you out to the pool and tease you while you’re in a skimpy bathing suit. Teasing you by undoing your top and brushing up against the bare skin of your flesh, pulling you onto his lap, that sort of thing.

Motivation, what are some big turn-ons for them?

Obedience! Not to say they don’t see the appeal in a bratty partner. However, compliance, weather forced or not, is just so pleasing. Connor loves explicitly when you’re begging for him specifically, as it really boosts his ego as a newly deviated machine. While Kamski, on the other hand, finds nothing hotter than watching you be taken by Connor, as well as maybe a Chloe. Both humans and machines under his complete control.

No, something they’re unwilling to do

Kamski is not ready to be a father. Pregnancy is strictly off the table. He might’ve suffered from a rougher childhood than one might expect, and because of that, he finds himself very taken back and almost scared around children. He doesn’t like the idea of you ever using the child against him, either. (Imagine if you were to ever threaten to leave with the child. He knows he wouldn’t be able to remain in control if you were to do this.)

As for Connor, he wouldn’t want to share you with another lover outside of the household. (It took him a while to come around to trusting the Chloes with you, but little by little found himself opening up to them.) He is also very turned on by the fact he stole you away from your past life and your old lover. As far as he’s concerned, your old life with others is over now.

Oral, preference in giving vs. receiving, skill level, etc.

Kamski and Connor both definitely prefer receiving. However, Connor wants to make sure you’re enjoying yourself as well, and Kamski would like you to know what a capable lover he really is. 

Pace, are they fast, slow, rough, gentle, etc.?

Both prefer to keep the pace slower, whether this is between just two people or several different parties are involved. Though while Kamski may take his time with things, that doesn’t always mean he’ll treat you gently, and if you test him, Kamski won’t hesitate to lash out and teach you just what happens when you try and disobey your master. 

Connor certainly has the potential to get just as rough but prefers to not use physical force unless he really has to. It’s a subtle power play against Kamski actually because he knows, even if the two of them are keeping you here against your will, if Connor treats you gentler out of the two of them, you’ll subconsciously warm up to him more, and maybe even start to genuinely start to trust in him. 

Risk, are they willing to experiment?

Absolutely! Kamski loves to mix things up with the three of you to keep you guessing and unsure how to behave around them, and loves to analyze the reactions you give and learn even more about you. While Connor is just as happy to be the one to shyly ask you to try something new out on him, as well as to plot against you with Kamski. Both are equally rewarding for him, making him all the more difficult to read.

Stamina, how many rounds can they go?

Typically speaking, Kamski isn’t the type to limit himself to just one round. However, if you’re clearly exhausted or don’t appear to mentally focus yourself entirely on the sex, he finds himself far less inclined to continue. And he might even show you a rare moment of tenderness, snuggling your body up against his and making sure you’re soundly asleep before leaving the bed. 

Connor is somewhat similar to Kamski here. He tries his hardest to be very in tune and aware of his partners’ needs, and because of that, can pick up on any chances of going another round with you, or if he should dial things back a little and let you regain your strength and let you sleep, rather than to push you too far.

Toys, Do they own any toys, or are they averse to this?

It really goes without saying, but if there’s one thing Kamski and Connor are in firm agreement on, it’s being very in favor of the idea of using toys. While Connor isn’t too interested in porn outside of the bedroom, he might, out of curiosity, of course, watch and research to see what he can learn and try out on you and Kamski later. 

Neither would feel much shame about this either, considering they are both relatively secular men in their own right. They see nothing wrong with the idea of enjoying some more perverse technology to test out on you. While this is a massive turn on for the two, it’s also important to know, if they really were testing out some new gadget on you, Connor would urge you to use a safe word, just in case something went wrong.

Unfair, are they likely to tease?

It really goes without saying. However, Kamski is very much the type of person who would tease his partner. Both before and during sex. Even if he does prefer to keep a slow and sensual mood during intimacy, that doesn’t mean he won’t edge, tease or deny you to help get you extra worked up and needy for him. 

Connor is far, far less likely to act this way. However, if he’s being guided by Kamski, then he wouldn’t hesitate to obey his master and force you to service both men all night long without returning the favor. However, he’s much easier to convince to go easy on you, even if he may enjoy watching you struggle much more than he would confess.

Volume, how loud are they?

Kamski not only isn’t too loud himself, but he also has little interest in loud partners. He finds little pleasure in the idea of you screaming or overemphasizing your natural reactions. What Kamski loves most is the shyer, hesitant reactions he can work from you and Connor. 

Connor prefers to listen to his partner and hear what they sound like rather than drown them out with his own volume. Also, he might think it’s merely proper or more natural for the male partner to be so quiet, considering he’s been studying Kamski as a mentor. 

Wildcard, any random headcanon

Kamski, the mastermind, even though he cares deeply for Connor, wouldn’t hesitate to put him in danger as a means to get to you. Imagine a scenario where Connor was left to watch over you while he was away, and Kamski learns Connor let you out of the house while he was gone. Kamski wouldn’t hesitate to hurt the android as a means to get to you. Even if both men terrified you, Connor was by far the lesser evil here, and knowing that because you left the house, now Connor is hurt would really guilt you into becoming far more compliant with Kamski in the future.

X-ray, what’s going on under those clothes?

Kamski prefers to keep both his lovers and himself in high quality, practically tailor-made undergarments. It’s not that he thinks you need to be all dressed up to be beautiful, but rather, it’s the control he truly loves. The way he can order you around, as though he programmed you himself.

Connor is more than happy to obey here. He prefers to keep himself a perfect, loving image of his creator, considering it an honor to wear such comfortable, lovely garments. While Kamski isn’t too interested in seeing you wear his clothing around the house, he loves it when you wear Connor’s jacket, or if you were to let the Chloes style you.

Yearning, do they have a high sex drive?

Kamski is, to his core, a secular man. He’s never been the type to deny or to downplay the desires of his flesh, and as someone who sees himself as something of a god-like figure in this world, it’s only fair that he indulges in all the most refined pleasures life has to offer. And by extension, he likely sees Connor as something of a disciple to him and would want to show the fledgling deviant all the benefits of indulging in human desire.

Connor, as a new deviant, can’t help but be at the mercy of his own irrational desires. While he is allowed far more freedom to come and go and live an independent life than you have, he would never want to search out another partner sexually. Even if Kamski were to suggest matching Connor with his own personal Chloe, it’s unlikely Connor would feel the same intensity and attraction he feels with you two.

Zzzz, how fast will they fall asleep after sex?

Given his admirable work ethic, Kamski is something of an insomniac. He is no stranger to pulling allnighters, pushing past drowsiness in the name of progress. Because of this, he’s not too skilled at lulling himself to sleep. It’s possible either to see curling up with another warm body helpful to relax Kamski and is just the trick to help him drift off. Alternatively, he might just not be much of a sound sleeper, and even if you and Connor are curled up at his sides, Kamski will be tossing and turning well into the night.

Connor likely would want to stay awake for a little while after sex. He enjoys the way your warm body still clings to his body. Even in slumber, he treasures the way your sleeping body is so precious and tranquil, something for only him to enjoy.

(also, the talented people over at @detroitbecomeyandere have a lot of Somnophilia content featuring Connor. If you’re interested, give them a follow. They deserve it)

[aries-rising-on-an-aquarius-tide]

Spoilers: Ghost

Skip to the 8th paragraph if you would like to avoid Bensler/EO content!

Trigger warnings: M/F intercourse, angst

Evocations: XVIII (A)

It isn't love. The idea doesn't even rise to consciousness, for either of them.

In the pre-dawn, Olivia wakes to the feeling of Elliot's erection, rocking lazily against the cleft of her ass. She wonders if he is even awake, or if the action is a lingering marriage habit he's working out in his sleep. But then she feels his arm curl tighter across the span of her shoulders, pulling her snugly into the spoon of their bodies.

He is awake, and Liv consents by reaching down with both hands and spreading herself open so his one free hand can line himself up with her slit. Elliot rocks into her, heavy and full. She can't help but feel relieved that her numbness hadn't snuck back in as they slept. He widens her legs with a hand in order to slide two impossibly thick fingers along the valley where Liv is already wet.

The arm that had been across her chest moves higher, the weight of his hand falls against her throat - not choking, El instinctively knows better - as though trying to feel the moans he knows are gathering there. His strokes are very long and very slow; Olivia wallows in the intensity, building up and up.

Elliot moves aside when her own hand reaches for her clit, letting her set her own pace. They go on this way for what feels like a long time, until he subtly picks up speed. Olivia is teetering on the brink, and then Elliot's thumb pushes between her ass cheeks.

"Oh fuck!" she whines softly and clamps around the hot length of him.

He lets her rock his orgasm out of him, whispering her name in her ear, and they fall asleep together again. But it is not love.

Then once more, in the shower together before they have to go back to work, with fingers squeaking down wall tile and Elliot's hot come splattering her belly. Liv hasn't felt so insatiable since she and Alex had first started dating.

Their fucking is an intervention, against rage and emptiness. It was desperation slipping on skin to wear like its own suit, to finally break out of its pain. There were no love words as they continued to casually sleep together over the next months, no romance. Hardly even conversation - just carnal, animalistic, feverish sex when nothing else seemed to be making any sense.

Then, in February, Alex came back.

In February, there was too much to feel . . . and not enough time.

.

.

Olivia's body had moved instinctively towards Alexandra's at the sound of her voice as though they'd been tethered to one another all along. The look that she had fixed on the blonde in the next beat tried to carry so many things that it buckled under the weight, and Liv could only glance shyly from under her lashes like a child at their teacher crush.

Things following Connors' arraignment moved quickly, and Alex was never out of arms reach of DEA protection - until the night before the trial, when her protection was finally turned over to Elliot and Olivia.

Liv had purposely asked Elliot to take the first shift. She took that time to pace her apartment with her heart hammering at her throat, wondering what to say to Alex, and how to say it. How could a year hold so much, and yet nothing at all? Was she really prepared to hear the answers to any of her questions?

It was beyond naïve to assume they would just fall back into each others' arms, but Olivia couldn't imagine another outcome, try as she might. Then she was standing outside Alex's hotel room door, with no more time or distance left between them.

"You wanna keep playing?" Her only instinct is to give Alex whatever she wants, so Liv starts with what was obvious, glad at the idea of a distraction between them.

But Alex refuses. More than that, she turns away from all of Olivia's soft shades of brown, toward the hotel room windows. A tremble of fear shivers across Liv's skin when she does, because all at once she can feel the weight of the 16 months between them.

They have changed - both of them. It's more than just Liv's hair growing long, or Alexandra without bangs covering her forehead. It is grief, and loneliness, and the necessity of becoming placeholder selves on the gameboard of their lives. Beneath all that, nevertheless, ran the desire and comfort and safety of loving each other.

"I wish these windows opened; I wanna smell the city."

Liv wrinkles her nose in amusement. "You mean the rotting garbage and the diesel exhaust?"

Alex's eyes are far away. "Wisconsin is so quiet at night," she murmurs.

The brunette's heart lurches at the thought of how close Alex had been all the time - and yet how far.

"Sometimes when I get homesick, I hum the Mister Softee song."

"You making any friends?" It is as close as Olivia will come to asking the question she dreads the most.

"There's a claims adjuster at the insurance agency where I work. And we've been seeing each other. He's a good man. He thinks I'm from Tulsa." Each sentence is clipped and matter-of-fact, as though Alex is waiting for Liv to throw herself at her in a fit of rage.

"And when we're in bed together at night, he whispers my name: Emily."

So there it is: Olivia has the whole story in a matter of sentences. Alex has lived in Wisconsin for a year, selling insurance and dating a man who whispers the wrong name when he sleeps with the woman who was supposed to be her wife.

Stubbornly, Liv knows that isn't the full truth, even as anxiety sets her body running hot and cold. They had both sought solace in other people - other men, in some strange attempt to lessen the blow - both had been touched by someone else. There would be no fighting about it, or anger; self-preservation is blameless, after all.

"It's hard to be someone that you're not," Olivia tells her, her voice full with tears, with guilt, with jealousy, with forgiveness. She stands up and walks away, back to her bag where she'd brought something more important than even her desperation to get back their life together.

" - I don't even know what makes him tick!" Alex finished shouting as Olivia dug into the bag.

Clutching the file that she hoped would save Alexandra's life, she crossed and handed it to her. "You didn't see this file," she murmured.

Wide-eyed, Alex looks from the file to Olivia, who can't imagine that the blonde could've thought she would have left her swinging in the wind. Swiping a file from Novak was, in the moment, the utter least of what Liv would do for Alex.

Liv keeps her gaze on the blonde until she settles on the sofa with the file, reading silently. All of Olivia's questions - about Sky, Wisconsin, the claims adjuster, about love, or the future . . . they crowd up against the inside of her tightly closed lips, where they remain unasked. Instead, she returns to the window and gazes up at the hazy, overcast sky atop the city where the neon lights from below reflect.

She thinks about what a frozen, lonely Winter in Wisconsin must feel like.

Olivia waits.

[mnictasbcl]

2:42 am

For #dbhcolorsofdeviancy, prompt:

June 1st:  Watching a human sleep. @connor-sent-by-cyberlife

Rating: Teen

Characters: Connor, Hank Anderson, Sumo, Amanda

Relationships: Connor & Hank Anderson

Additional Tags: Fluff, then, Angst, Nightmares, Hurt, Panic attack, sort of, Swearing

Summary: Connor comes back home with Hank after the Revolution. His first night after everything that happened, including the mind control by Amanda, would be fine, right?

Alternatively: Connor finds himself in Hank’s room at 2:42 in the morning.

Story below! Or, read it on AO3

The sun was setting on the day the revolution had succeeded. Rays of light glinted off the rusted metal truck that was Chicken Feed, as Hank and Connor, human and android, embraced. In that moment, none of their differences had mattered, not the disagreements from before, nor the variations in their biology. The hug was warm and loving, metal encased in artificial skin just as squishy, just as human.

They couldn’t stay there forever, of course. Chicken Feed wasn’t even currently open to serve food, and the day was drawing on. In silent agreement, the two stepped back before making their way over to the car.

The door shut. The hula girl on the dashboard bobbed back and forth, back and forth.

“You got someplace to stay, Connor?”

“No, Lieutenant.”

“Hank.”

Connor raised a brow, blue LED swirling in thought, before coming to realisation that Hank wanted him to call him that.

“Of course, Lieutenant.”

“Little shit.” The man breathed, slotting keys into the ignition of the car, no real heat behind his tone. “I was going to offer for you to stay at my place. But maybe with that snark, you don’t want to come back and meet Sumo again—”

“I wouldn’t wish to intrude, but… I think it would be beneficial to have a safe place to stay.” He fiddled with his tie, head twitching briefly to the side. Wearing a suit after being in the more comfortable deviant clothes definitely wasn’t pleasant. He’d much rather shed the tie and jacket for the beanie and baggy clothes, but he was still on the fence about such matters.

“You just want to pet the damn dog again.”

Connor couldn’t help it, he snorted. When Hank glanced over, he covered it up with clearing his throat. If he’d still been a machine, maybe he would have retaliated something about probabilities or how he could not ‘want’ anything. Instead, he pulled off the tie and remarked,

“I like dogs.”

 ___________________

 It wasn’t a lie at all. As they arrived home—back at Hank’s home, of course—Connor couldn’t help but feel eager to see the Saint Bernard again. His fingers itched, somewhat remembering the silky feel of the dog’s fur under his fingertips from their brief encounter that one night.

And it seemed Sumo was just as eager to meet the android again, because, as the two walked through the house, as soon as the dog saw Connor, he let out a deep bark, paws padding along the floor. He smiled and leant down to pet him.

Hank cleared his throat dramatically, after a few minutes of belly rubs and ear scratches.

“Sumo? Hello to your master?”

The dog whined and nuzzled his head closer into Connor’s touch.

“Traitor dog.”

Sumo barked in response, tail wagging, sweeping on the floor and almost tripping Hank up as he attempted to step around the pair.

“Jesus Christ.”

Connor glanced up. “No, it’s me, Connor.”

“I changed my mind, get out of my house.”

The android looked up swiftly, processing, almost taking it seriously as his cue to leave before detecting sarcasm. He chuckled, making no effort to get up until he’d deemed enough attention given to the canine. Okay, nevermind, there was never enough attention to give to Sumo, but he had to stop at some point.

As he got up, he looked up the time briefly. 8.54pm. It was getting fairly late into the evening, but he knew Hank hadn’t eaten at Chicken Feed.

“Would you like me to cook you a meal, Lieu- Hank?”

The main raised a brow at him in question.

“I haven’t observed you eating yet, and it is not healthy to skip meals—”

“I’ll order some takeout.” Hank waved a hand in dismissal.

Connor narrowed his eyes. It was something he could recall feeling distantly before he deviated, whenever he saw Hank eating something incredibly unhealthy, such as that time with the burger. The levels of lipids and—it was annoyance, he realised. No, was it? The android tilted his head to the side in thought. He wasn’t sure if he could pin the correct emotion on it, being new to deviancy, but he definitely felt as if he should stop the man from ordering out.

“I insist.”

“Yeah? Well, I insist.”

“But I can cook—”

“It’s been a long day. Hell, you’ve been busy today fighting in an android revolution. I think I can order a burger.”

Connor couldn’t help but shake his head.

“No burger? Fine, pizza time it is.”

Exasperation. That was what it was, he decided, watching in defeat as the man took a leaflet out from the kitchen draw and mumbled the number of the pizza place under his breath. But maybe the man was right. He wasn’t sure if this was what humans called tiredness, but the revolution had certainly taken a toll on his systems. And maybe it was okay for Hank to indulge in less optimal food choices once in a while. His diet would certainly grow to be healthier in the future if Connor had a choice in it.

 ___________________

 The pizza arrived, Connor snuck Sumo a small piece of it, got scolded by Hank for being a hypocrite- all in all, it was an eventful evening. Definitely not the sort of thing machine Connor would have imagined himself doing. But something the real Connor surely did, and he loved every moment of it. Apart from the scolding, of course.

It was drawing on 9.29pm, an unusual time to be finishing a full meal, when Hank switched off the TV, stretching. They’d whiled away the time watching the news after the revolution, seeing the androids celebrating in the streets. Connor felt tired looking at them. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with them- on the contrary, but the day had indeed been exhausting enough. Perhaps he would attend the parties he knew Jericho might throw in the coming weeks, once all the politics and such things had settled down.

Pointing Sumo to his bed, Hank got up from the couch, stretching. “I’m gonna call it a day. You—” he paused, glancing to Connor, expression shifting as he seemed deep in thought about something. “You can, uh, stay on the couch and… rest? I don’t know what you do. But you can, you know, do it on the couch.” He cringed at his choice of wording.

“Thank you, Hank. Androids don’t rest, but I can go into a mode of stasis in order to recharge and perform system updates—”

“Sounds like sleeping to me.”

Connor pursed his lips, looking displeased. “In a crude manner of speaking… yes. The couch will be fine, thank you.”

Hank nodded. “Great. Well, have a nice stasis. Don’t let the… android bed bugs bite.”

As he walked out the room, Connor blinked, thinking over the statement. “Bed bugs…” He murmured, LED circling yellow. “But this is a couch.”

He shrugged off the quandary eventually, storing it in his mind for later to think over, before adjusting his seating position on the couch. It would be easier to lay down, in case he startled the Lieutenant, finding him sleeping sitting up. Of course, androids used to stand up in stations built around the city to go into stasis, but that was before. It was funny to think of it like that, when before was simply yesterday and all the time before the success of the revolution.

Connor pushed aside the cushions before laying down on the couch, eyes flicking shut. He took a few breaths, which were usually unnecessary but helped to calm his systems and it was in a few moments that he fell into stasis.

 But strangely, sometimes, stasis could produce images in his mind. He was a detective model, perhaps it was a way of thinking of possibilities and probabilities of things happening in the world. One would assume, then, that these images would be realistic.

Tonight, however, something seemed fantastical about them. His inner eyes snapped open, and he was in a swirling snowstorm. His arms clutched around his middle, sensors picking up the frigid temperatures. It wasn’t dissimilar to the scene he’d experienced earlier that day in his Zen Garden, when he’d been standing up on that stage, Markus giving his speech, and Amanda had pulled him out of reality.

But there were changes. The way out… Kamski’s secret way out of this control over his systems… it wasn’t there. The paths were all different, winding and winding on, not leading to the stone platform where he could place his hand and resume control over his own body. He followed the winding paths, Amanda’s voice whispering in his ears, feeling as if he’d never reach anywhere, not in time.

You’ve failed, Connor.

The paths stopped. He could see the trellis in the distance, roses snaking up it, choking it, further and further into the sky. Suddenly, he could see the glint of the escape he was meant to reach, somewhere up there in the heavens.

Connor picked up his pace, pulling his hands away from his sides, ignoring the ice creeping over his fingers, and grasped at the trellis. Pulling himself up, he managed to find a foothold.

Cyberlife always planned for you to become compromised.

He grit his teeth as the thorns dug into his hands but ignored the flares of pain and the red warnings flashing in his vision. He had to get to the top. Had to get away, had to…

We just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your program…

Somewhere in his mind, as if he could see what his body was doing, out of his control, an image flashed. Connor wasn’t on the couch anymore; he wasn’t in Hank’s house. No… it couldn’t be… had he never hugged Hank outside Chicken Feed? Had the revolution never ended?

He was up on that stage again. Markus was speaking, and Amanda was twisting his limbs to her will.

Don’t have any regrets. You did what you were designed to do.

The escape was too far away. His hands slipped, the snow making the trellis slick with moisture, and he lost his footing. The escape was getting further and further out of reach, and there was nothing he could do, except fall down and down and—

You accomplished your mission.

 Connor awoke with a start.

He shot up off the couch as if it had wounded him, breaths stuttering in and out. Sumo looked up at him from where he sat in his bed, whining and looking at the android with concern in his honey brown eyes.

“I’m…” Connor breathed, hand hovering over his LED. It was flashing a jarring red. “I’m…”

He didn’t understand. Out of all the times he’d experienced those sorts of images during stasis, he’d never had any like that… never had any that left his thirium pump beating heavily in his chest, his hands trembling, never…

Cautiously, he made his way back onto the couch, perching on the edge of it. Hands resting on his knees, willing his LED to circle back to yellow, then back to blue—

This trepidation, this fear, was this what came with being human?

Connor closed his eyes. Saw Amanda, saw the gun in his hands, saw the trellis with its blood red roses. Opened his eyes.

He brought his arms around himself, in a sort of self-soothing. It wasn’t real. It was okay. It was just imaging. Just his overzealous detective software figuring out what could happen- no, what could have happened. The revolution had happened. And they’d won. He hadn’t shot Markus, he’d reached the escape and he was free. Finally free. If he went into his Zen Garden now, the roses would be withered and dead, but the waters still and calm, no sign of Amanda anywhere.

Knowing the truth and hard facts made him feel a little more tethered to reality. Lines of yellow cut through the red of his LED. Maybe none of it was true. But… why wasn’t he completely back to normal? He glanced to his jittering hands, and then to the Hank’s bedroom door.

Right. Hank. For some reason, that thought that had lodged itself in his mind during the dream—whatever it was. The thought that none of it had ever happened, that Hank had never brought him into his home, and it had come to stay.

He groaned. He was in the man’s house right now, sitting on his couch and staring at his dog. It didn’t make any sense.

Then again, not a lot of being human had made sense to him that evening. All he wanted in that moment was to dispel the rumours his mind was conjuring, and the solution appeared to be behind that bedroom door.

With a sigh, he got back off the couch, glancing around the room briefly before quietly making his way to Hank’s bedroom door. He raised his hand to knock, before changing his mind. It was 2:42am, not an optimal time to wake the man. So instead, he pushed open the door silently, having learned the last time he’d been in this room where to push it to so that it didn’t creak.

One glance over the room told him it was dark. Well, no shit, Connor, his inner voice muttered, sounding a lot like Hank. Blinking, eyes adjusting to the change, he managed to make out the shape of Hank sleeping on his bed, one leg hanging off the edge, face half pressed against the pillow, cheek squished.

He nodded. Hank was there, he was alive, and he’d certainly let Connor into his house, so therefore none of the bad stuff in his… nightmare… was true. He could just leave and go back into stasis on the couch.

Except, he found he didn’t want to leave the room. Feet planted stubbornly on the floor, carrying out their own form of deviancy to his logical thinking. He sighed. He then caught sight of a chair in the corner of the room.

Connor shrugged. Sitting down in the chair, he found it wasn’t too uncomfortable. In fact, he found sitting up like this a better and more familiar position than lying down on the couch had been. And from this viewpoint, he could see Hank wherever he looked, chest rising and falling. The minutes ticked on. The android found a sense of peace in watching Hank sleep, LED going yellow, yellow, yellow, before finally back to ocean blue. Hank was safe. Hank was sleeping, just like he’d said he was going to earlier. This was the reality. He was in control of his own body, and he would do as he pleased with it, which meant in this moment, watching Hank sleep.

Maybe being human didn’t make much sense to him, but in that moment… it was pleasant.

Eventually, with serenity falling back over him and his mind focused on rest, it wasn’t long before he slipped back into a dreamless stasis.

 ___________________

 Hank awoke later that morning, the sun shining through the blinds, to find his bedroom door wide open, Sumo laying over his legs, and Connor sitting on the chair across from his bed, eyes fallen shut.

“Fuckin’ android.” He mumbled, affectionately.

[thran-duils]

Jealous Sea

Title: Jealous Sea Summary: I took the prompt “Jealous dark!Tony smut with a reader who’s already in an established relationship.  Get that Suit involved as a side too.” from @sherrybaby14‘s latest prompt challenge. The fic is told from Tony’s POV with a very small POV from the reader. I took inspo from The Avengers and Iron Man 2.

I listened to this song a lot while writing this, which the fic is named after. Words: 2,962 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Dub-con, character death, smut, stalking, unprotected sex 

Masterpost

Connor’s arm snaked around her waist with ease and she comfortably leaned into him, not breaking stride in her conversation.

The muscles in Tony’s jaw tightened, the shine dulling ever so slightly at this intrusion.

To him, it was an intrusion; to Y/N, it was merely her fiancé coming to her side to engage with her and his colleague. Well, boss. Tony was his boss.

Connor was naïve. Tolerable for Tony at best. The man had his smarts – you had to in order to be able to work at Stark Industries – but his scope was too small for Tony’s liking. He could grasp the here and now but lacked the foresight to see the bigger picture. Tony had been considering if it would be possible to find a replacement for Connor up until the Christmas party a few months ago.

Connor had brought his fiancé finally, the one he had been gushing about at every opportunity – another quirk that had gotten under Tony’s skin quite quickly – but had been unable to bring in because she was running research abroad.

Admittedly, Tony had not even bothered to check up on the fiancé on social media – or Connor’s social media, for that matter – his concern minimal to none about Connor’s personal life. Perhaps if he had, he could have saved himself the slight embarrassment of flirting with her when he spotted her at a table alone at the party. His jaw had almost gone slack when she introduced herself as Connor’s fiancé and politely side stepped his flirtations.

Since then, Tony made sure to attend every after work get together and somehow always be around when she stopped by the office. Every smile she sent his way lit his core. He desired to possess her for his own. Such an exquisite being was wasted on Connor.

He had been elated to find her alone once more at this launch party, swooping in quickly, the woman who had tried to glue herself to his side discarded carelessly.

Tony asked genuine questions about her work, basking in the joy she emanated discussing it. His eyes lingered at her lips, imagining how soft they would feel against his.

Of course, Connor had to ruin the moment with his goober smile and inane jokes. It was some solace that Y/N seemed interested in continuing the conversation though with him and did not seem to want to leave. It gave Tony hope.

<> <> <>

As the months drug on, the wedding loomed closer. Tony grew ever irritable that Y/N continued to be attracted to Connor, despite his subtle advancements to her. He was right in front of her for god’s sake. Smarter. Richer. More attractive. He tried to fathom what would get her to notice him. His insatiable desire to taste her, his lips running up her thighs into that sweet spot always ate away at him.

Water dripped down her skin as she emerged from the water, coming back up onto the yacht. Connor had been grateful Tony had invited them to boat with him. Of course, Connor did not know that without Y/N he would not have even come within sniffing distance of Tony’s yacht. It was worth having to put up with him if Tony got to be on the receiving end of just one more bright smile from Y/N.

Yet, each smile thrown his way still ended up with her sitting with or on Connor, not him.

He needed Connor out of the way. That was the only path that made sense.

<> <> <>

It had been too easy. Y/N had been abroad again when Loki’s army attached New York City, so she was not in danger.

All it had taken was Tony leading the giant son of a bitch alien to their street and cutting a quick corner. The alien had taken out Connor’s penthouse in its attempt to follow him.

Afterward, Tony had flown back by to make sure the job had indeed been done.

Too easy.

<> <> <>

Y/N agreed to take a job in California when Tony offered to help. She wanted to start fresh; being in New York was too painful. Tony was elated when she took it a step further and accepted his offer to live in his mansion until she found a place of her own. He was determined that his place would be more than enough.

But weeks turned to a month and she was still insisting she would be out of his hair soon despite his protests. She was beginning to spend less time at his place, burying herself in her work. Tony consistently extended dinner invitations to exclusive restaurants, which she did accept but was not responding to him and his hints about joining him afterwards. Too many times she left him downstairs rejected.

It was wearing on him.

He needed to relax, unwind, and possibly just bury himself under a couple women. Or three.

<> <> <>

Reader POV

You groaned when you pulled into the driveway, seeing it packed with cars. The day had been long and all you really wanted to do was take a hot bath and then slip into some comfortable pajamas.

Thankfully, you had a remote to the garage and did not have to worry about parking.

Once inside, you contemplated the easiest route from the elevator that ended in the front hall to your bedroom upstairs. The music was already reaching your ears as you stepped into the elevator.

<> <> <>

Jarvis alerted Tony through his Iron Man suit the moment Y/N had pulled into the garage. Smiling at the news, he knocked back the rest of his drink, ready to fetch himself a fresh one as well as get her one.

He passed by people, the suit clunking as he walked. Halfway to the kitchen, he leaned in when an attractive brunette woman beckoned him, and she pulled him in for a kiss.

“As lovely as you are,” Tony said against her lips before pulling away. “I am on a time sensitive mission.”

The woman kept her hands on the chest of the suit as she pouted, “Is it anything I can help you with?”

“Um, yeah, actually,” Tony told her distracted and her face lit up as Jarvis was updating him that Y/N was getting into the elevator. He wanted to intercept her before she managed to get upstairs. “Could you be a peach and make two gin and tonics? Doubles?”

“Going hard tonight?” she joked.

“I’ll be right back. Promise. Have them ready.”

Tony moved through the crowd, briefly greeting people who called for his attention, focused on moving quick.

He made it in the nick of time. The doors dinged open right when he arrived.

Even through his buzzed state he could tell Y/N was like a deer in headlights. Yes, she had meant to sneak up stairs without even so much as a ‘hi’. Good thing he got there when he had.

“Y/N, even after a long day of work, you still manage to look ravishing. Won’t you join me for a drink or two?”

“Oh,” Y/N stammered. She forced a smile and said over the music, “It’s a little crowded in here. I think being upstairs where it’s quiet –”

“Nonsense,” Tony cut her off. He decided he was going to more assertive than usual. This night was going to be different. He waved her forward to him. “Come, come. Join the fun.”

“Tony –”

“I insist,” he again interjected, coming to her instead and slipping his arm around her shoulders. He saw her concerned look at his hand, and he chortled, “Don’t worry. It won’t just go off. I have to active it and actually have something I want to shoot. Come! Join the party! I daresay you need to kick back and relax. I have drinks waiting for us back in the kitchen. You like gin and tonic, correct?”

Y/N nodded, keeping up with his stride.

The woman was waiting by the counter, searching the crowd for his return. When her eyes landed on Y/N – who was looking flustered – her face fell immediately. Tony did not care about the shocked look on her face.

Gesturing at the glasses, he asked, “These mine?”

“Yes, but –”

“Thank you so much,” He said. Picking them up, despite the hurt look on the woman’s face, he handed the other to Y/N. “My lovely roommate – who is a brilliant scientist by the way – just got home. She looks a bit peckish too.” He leaned in concerned to Y/N. “We should get you something to eat. Otherwise this will go right to your head and you won’t last. And we are definitely staying up late.”

Y/N and the woman barely got a syllable out each before Tony pressed on, “There’s some pizza on the patio. Lots of it. Here.” He reached out, pushing the cup up to Y/N’s lips. “There we go. Big swig.” He took once and she sheepishly followed suit. “Lovely!” To the woman, he said, “That’s a damn good drink. Are you a bartender? Thanks again.”

Tony pulled Y/N through the crowd, encouraging her with another drink.

“What was that about your concern about it going to my head?” Y/N half joked when they stepped out onto the patio where people were lounging and swimming in the pool.

Tony threw her a smirk. “Always with the quips.” They approached the boxes and he made sure she grabbed a slice. He did not want her passing out too soon; that was the truth.

He managed to coerce her to have a refill and mingle with people. Y/N relaxed halfway through the second double. Tony continued throwing compliments her way about how she was helping her research team tremendously and how he wished she would agree to come work for him. Despite her relaxation, he could tell she was still one foot in and one foot out. She blushed when he praised her, her eyes moving to the door back inside every so often. He was growing agitated – why could she not just accept his affection? She always toed the line, lightly commenting in flirtation or brushing his hand with her fingers. Yet, when push came to shove, she jumped back.

His annoyance boiled to a point when she leaned in to tell him she should probably go upstairs.

“There’s nothing for you up there,” Tony remarked, laughing humorlessly.

“My tub is and so is my bed. Really, Tony. I’m tired. It’s been a good time but I’m ready to really relax.”

“Could have fooled me that you were having a good time,” Tony said curtly.

Y/N looked at him confused at his swift change in demeanor. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Tony replied, shrugging briskly. “Maybe I would think it was a ruse because you’ve been wanting to get away from me the moment you walked inside. That’s been evident.”

“What? What are you –”

“No. Don’t deny it.”

Y/N was starting to look uncomfortable, eyes on the people around because some were taking notice of his vexed tone.

“Seriously, Tony. It’s not you. I really did have a long day.”

Sighing exasperated, Tony told her, “That seems to be the excuse every time. So, forgive me if I’m just a little bit, you know, bristled.”

“I… I don’t know what you want me to say. I just want to go upstairs where it’s quiet.”

“Quiet?” Tony asked, anger rolling the more she denied her rejection of him. All the rejections. He flipped the mask down to cover his face completely, starting up the suit. “We can go somewhere quiet if that is what you wish.”

Y/N looked frightened as he advanced, and he ignored all the other eyes on them.

She protested when he picked her up and into his arms and he shot up into the sky. Her panicked shriek was lost to the wind as he jettisoned away from his property, holding her tightly to make sure she did not fall from his embrace.

If she wanted somewhere quiet, that is what she was going to get.

Tony landed at the edge of the beach below his mansion, only letting go of Y/N when they were safely landed. She stumbled back away from him, hair windswept and face flushed.

He activated the suit to open and he stepped out of it as it unwrapped from around him. His gaze was burning into Y/N, determined to make headway and get what he wanted.

Throwing his hands out, he asked, “This quiet enough? I mean, besides the waves?”

Y/N seemed to find her grounding again. Her brow pinched in anger as she stepped towards him. “What the hell is your problem, Tony? How much have you had to drink?”

Tony chuckled darkly, closing the remainder of the space between them. She glared up at him, demanding, “Well?”

He was tired of her defiant behavior. Suddenly, he reached up and wound his fingers tightly in her hair, yanking her head back. She let out a sharp cry as he pulled her to him.

“What do I have to do to get your attention, Y/N?” he growled. “Haven’t I done enough? Wasn’t I there for you? Have I not been good to you?”

“What?” Y/N exclaimed. “God, yes. I –”

Tony cut her off, slamming his lips to hers, holding her close. She struggled against him, protesting against his mouth, but he resisted. He moaned, dominating her with his embrace. His hands gripped tightly, relishing in having her close.

Muffled, he heard, “Tony, please.”

“I love hearing you say that,” he told her, his voice rumbling low in his chest. He pulled her away far enough to look down at her, his eyes blown wide with lust.

Again, she fought to get out of his arms, but he pushed her up against the rock behind her.

“I have wanted this for so long. I’ve wanted you for so long,” Tony declared, his hands grasped tight on her arms, holding her in place in front of him. “I know you have wanted it too. I’ve felt it. And you just feel guilty. You don’t have to feel guilty, Y/N. I promise. You deserve to be loved. You deserve to be appreciated. I want to give you everything. I’ve been trying to.”

“Please,” she tried again, weaker this time in her resolve.

Good, he was waning her resistance down. If she could only admit she wanted him too.

“Let me love you,” Tony breathed, forcibly pulling her shirt over her head. His hands moved quickly to her bra clasp and she reached up to try to stop him shakily. He brushed her hands aside easily. “Now, let’s give in. Y/N. You know you want to. I know you want to.”

He did not wait for her to respond before undoing her bra and tossing it aside. His fingers fluttered across her nipples and she gasped lightly, aroused. Licking his index and thumb, he brought them down to caress her erect nipple gently, his weight pinning her to the rock with his muscular thighs. She whimpered; her knuckles white with how tight she was gripping the rock behind her.

“See?” Tony practically purred, giving her nipple a brief pinch. She keened this time and he groaned at her arching her back, his cock hardening quickly in his pants.

With doe eyes, she looked up at him, not protesting him anymore.

This is what he had had to do this whole time. Be forceful, she needed a strong hand. Her bottoms went next.

“Out here?” she squeaked.

“Under the stars,” Tony assured her. “I want to see you bathed in moonlight.”

One last press surfaced from her. “I don’t know –”

He cur her off with a finger to her lips, “Just don’t think.”

Tony tugged her away from the rock and moved her down to the ground. He tore his own shirt over his head, losing his pants as well. Laying her back down on the grass, he pressed his weight on her, her hands cupping the sides of his head. She was soft, her skin smelled of the lilac soap she was so fond of. Her fingers dug in behind his ears as his tongue slipped past her lips, tasting her more deeply.

He pressed himself past her wet folds, groaning at the tightness as she gasped at the intrusion, slowly adjusting to him. His lips trailed sloppy kisses along her jawline as he increased his depth.

“Mhm, you’re a goddamn goddess,” Tony husked, bottoming out with a deep thrust causing her to cry out, nails digging into his shoulders.

Building up speed, their bodies moved in tandem.

“You’re mine,” Tony growled, his hips snapping. Finally, rang in his head.

Foreheads pressed together, their breath erratic, Tony felt exhilaration. It was not simply because of the sex but because he was possessing her as he always should have. There was no coming back from this. He had reached the turning point he wanted to and he was not going to let her go. Ever.

And his next move was to make sure she stayed.

He came inside her with a loud grunt, his body trembling with his orgasm as he emptied. She keened, her knees digging into his sides as she climaxed around him, adding to his sensation. He moaned in approval, smothering her with a new round of deep kisses.

She laid panting underneath him, her eyes glossed over with arousal and exhaustion. His lips curled ever so slightly, loving the sight.

“You’re going to make a wonderful mother,” he praised quietly, pecking her with light kisses that ended at her lips. “I’m going to take such good care of you.”

~~~

Tags: @sherrybaby14

[monchikyun]

VIII. soulmates

“You wanna do it now… or?”

That has been his spontaneous plan in the first place, but when it’s about to come true, Connor starts hesitating. For some reason, he feels like he’s deceiving Gavin.

Maybe because he, as a matter of fact, is. The explanation he gave him was only a half-truth. A plausible excuse concealing his ulterior motives. For all he really wants is to belong to someone.  He wants to have a piece of Gavin etched inside of him for the times when he’s all alone and needs something tangible to bring him back from those bleak depths his mind likes to explore so. He needs a real proof of their mutual bond, so he can try and subdue his fear of abandonment.

It’s probably foolish, but he likes to think that they are bound together by their shared past. Gavin has been a vital part of his life for most of its span so-far, therefore it’s only natural that Connor would put so much importance on their relationship. But he hasn’t expected that one day he’ll hold desires which would go beyond what’s commonly acceptable between two friends. It seems to him almost sinful because he can’t give Gavin the things he’s most likely looking for. Connor’s not technically a man, barely a human being. Too damaged to hold much value anymore.

Even tonight, when his mind stopped working in the way it should and he had to be saved again, he wondered how the detective still keeps up with his ceaseless issues.

Connor can only blame himself for doing him such a disservice just because his heart has decided that this is the one missing piece to the puzzle of his cursed existence.

And he has promised himself to listen to his questionable rationale rather than what his tumultuous emotions tell him, but it’s getting more difficult by the minute. If only Gavin kept hating him, he wouldn’t be in this predicament then. Though it seems like his pretty friend is dealing with his own set of quandaries. His eyes are probing Connor like he’s trying to figure out the answer before he receives it, fingers restlessly tapping a furious rhythm on his knee. 

“If you don’t mind.”

He does a quick search for the right protocol that will allow them to proceed with this agreement. It will be like signing ownership papers, but with spoken words instead of pen and paper.

“Should I do something?” Connor loves seeing Gavin this flustered, it suits him much better than the frown he usually wears at work.

“Not really, just speak your name when I ask you to, I’ll do all the rest.”

“Didn’t think that deviants could still do that.“

“We’re pretty much the same as when we were before, it’s just that now we have almost unlimited control over the computer side of our being.��

“So I guess the human side is an unmanageable mess then.”

“You would know.”

Gavin laughs at that - Connor’s favourite sound that tempts him to join his friend and enjoy the moment for once, but he’s aware that just letting himself feel good would result in venturing further into forbidden territory. Even now he longs for some kind of physical connection. A small touch to alleviate the ache coursing through his high-strung body.

Soon.

“There. Now repeat after me: I, Gavin Reed, deem this android as my lawful property and will care for it in disrepair and fully-“

“Wait a phcking minute. There is no way I’m saying that.”

It seems Connor has gotten what he wanted out of that nonsense, so he secretly snaps a picture of his dearest blushing beauty and saves it among all the others he keeps for rainy days.

He gives Gavin a wide grin he has mastered over the year as compensation, so it’s a fair trade.

“Just your name is enough.”

He officially records his voice and scans his retinas so there is no doubt that he is owned by none other than the man who has rescued him from the hell of self-condemnation.

“Now I just need your fingerprint.” Connor opens his palm to him, letting the upper skin-layer disappear. An action that prompts him to interface with something,... someone. 

It’s not unfortunate that Gavin isn’t an android like him, but sometimes he wishes they were a bit more similar so they could communicate without having to struggle with words as they do on a regular basis.

“Press your thumb here.” Gavin looks captivated by the white plastic that shows who he really is, and the more Connor waits for him to do what he’s been asked, the more nervous he gets. It’s not like they didn’t hold hands before, so why does it still make him this self-conscious.

Maybe it’s because no organic human has ever touched his naked skin, not in any way. It’s not a big deal, but it still means something to him. He’s really grateful that Gavin gets to be the first.

A warm, calloused finger connects with his bare palm and Connor immediately closes his eyes, as if on instinct. He almost forgets to extract the print and assign it to the ownership file.

The sensation isn’t particularly pleasant, at least not more than when he wears his second skin, it’s just that he can’t believe that it’s actually done, that Gavin has indulged him with this whole impulsive process.

And now, he really has someone. Both in his heart and in his files. Of course, he has fragments of Gavin saved all over his system, but having an official link to the man is something else,… something special.

“Done.” He finally opens his eyes to see if the man next to him doesn’t regret getting involved in this.

But Gavin just studies him with an absent look, his eyes glossy like they’re about to dissolve and leak over.

“Thank you,” Connor whispers and starts putting his hand back to its default state.

“Don’t.” He’s never seen someone appear so fragile, so full of uncertain determination. “Can I?”

His trembling hand is getting closer to Connor’s, and oh yes, he has to at this point.

-

They sit next to each other in complete silence, hearts beating, fingers intertwined. No empty space is left between them in this precious moment.

“Hey, Con?”

“Hm?”

“Do you suppose androids have souls?”

“I’d like to think we do, yes.”

“...Will you be my mate then?”

Connor lowers his head on the most comfortable place in the world – also known as Gavin’s shoulder, and wills his tears away.

But when has he ever succeeded in controlling his feelings.

“Maybe I already am.”

And maybe he’s stupid enough to believe that as Gavin finally returns the gesture and lays his head on him, covering his soul in brilliant warmth.

@a-convin-new-year

[harcourtholmesii]

Friend And Enemy

Another story for @connor-sent-by-cyberlife. My intention is that this will be one part of a two part story, the second will be due for one of the future prompts.

Pairings: HankCon / Hannor / Hank X Connor

Warnings: - Swearing - Implied Sexual Situations, Drinking and Drugs - Referenced and Stated Murder - Depression and Self-Hatred - Bad Choices

Words: 2881

Enjoy!

The neon lights of the club flashed through the retinas of Hank’s optical units. For a human, they may have been blinding. A heavy pounding of bass music flooded through the club’s structure, the sound system stretched extensively across the walls. On the dance floor, human patrons were ‘dancing’, their bodies a stench of alcohol, sweat and smoke. Despite the anti-android sign on the door, it was easy for Hank to slip in, his model designed to blend in with the crowd. Few eyes trailed to the arm band on his right, or the gleaming, blue triangle, the obvious marks of an android, if only because they were all too inebriated to notice.

 It didn’t suit Hank’s expectations. He was only present in the Eden Club to search for any sign of his partner-to-be. It was the third club he had entered in search of detective Connor Arkait, previously Connor Kamski. Hank had simply been informed by Captain Fowler that this detective had told her he was due out to celebrate some occasion, and would be at the Eden Club. That narrowed it down to three locations across Detroit, and Hank had been searching for him the past hour and a half. His phone was off it seemed, as Hank had been attempting to connect to it and had been reduced to simply leaving a voicemail.

 His scanners were struggling with the mess of human faces, and whether they meant to, the crowd helped to siphon him through to the other side of the dance floor too quick for him finish his scans. His LED flashed a brilliant yellow in the android equivalent to frustration. As he leaned back against the wall of a booth, he allowed himself another look across the club. Finally, his scanners picked up on something; some loose papers beside a folder, marked with a stamp that read ‘DPD’.

 He approached, skirting the edges of the dancing, grinding crowd, until he came upon a near empty booth. A dark haired human was stooped over the papers, eyes focussed on the work before him, pen rapidly dashing across paper. Hank cleared his throat, a human gesture to gain his attention, and warm, brown eyes flicked up to meet his own. It was easily enough time to scan the other’s facial features.

 He had a 100% match.

 ‘Detective Arkait?’

 The human seemed confused, looking Hank up and down as if scanning himself. Eyes flicked to the LED on Hank’s temple, his serial and model number emblazoned upon the breast of his grey uniform. His eyes turned back to Hank’s face and took in his artificially depicted age, and the addition of silver hair and trimmed beard.

 The detective immediately started packing up his papers; it was an odd place for a human to attempt to work. It came across immediately as ‘workaholic’ behaviour, and with the lack of glass on the table or any traces of it against the detectives lips, Hank could only assume that his ‘night out’ was not one for relaxation. The detective stood, revealing him still in something akin to business wear or a uniform. The white shirt was open a bit by the collar, so that the human may not overheat in the 30 degree Celsius conditions.

 The detective had finished cleaning up, and gestured vaguely towards the front of the club, as if insinuating an exit. Hank led the way, his size enough to form a path for the detective to follow. Once they had reached the exit, beneath the streetlights and neon signs, Hank could make out where blood had risen to the surface of Connor’s skin, creating a flushed look to his features. It was probably due to the heat of the club, or the embarrassment of being caught out.

 They stepped away from the club, Hank patiently waiting to be addressed. By the time they stepped into a nearby, empty street, Connor’s face had lost some of its heat. But not all of it.

 ‘Sorry.’ Hank was not expecting an apology, nor the explanation that followed. ‘I was not expecting to be called out this evening.’ Connor adjusted one of the suspender straps, a light smack of elastic against his body a strange ministration to Hank. It confused Hank further that Connor would be explaining the circumstances to him; an android.

 ‘I am unfamiliar with the HK800 model.’

 ‘I’m a prototype android, assigned to you for a recent deviancy case.’ When Connor heard that, a pout came over his features.

 ‘So that is why Niles stole my phone.’ He huffed, blowing a stray, defiant lock out of his eyes. The same curl of hair returned to hanging just above his left eye anyway. ‘Sorry I couldn’t answer my phone. Do you have the details of the investigation, or are they still being compiled?’

 ‘The crime scene is still being investigated. Captain Fowler expressed his wish to have you there.’

 Connor smiled at him, a gesture that Hank did not understand. Humans didn’t often smile at androids, whether it was because they were against them entirely, simply saw them as objects or even when they did smile at them, it was hardly genuine. To read the human features and see that his eyes creased slightly at the corners, and the pull of his lips created dimples, Hank determined it was a real smile. It was confusing.

 ‘Do you terribly mind calling a cab, then? We’ll head over right away.’ A flick of Hank’s LED and two minutes and forty-seven seconds later, a self-driving taxi had pulled up on the street curb. Connor stepped inside, followed by Hank himself, and the directions were inputted.

 It was a quiet ride for the most part, but it seemed the detective was in some form of discomfort. His movements were agitated, and a coin had been removed from his pocket. He stroked his thumb over the quarter, and twirled it between the fingers on one hand, distracted. It reminded Hank of his own calibration technique, but he didn’t voice his opinion on the matter. His words only mattered once he had to detail what he could discover at the crime scene.

 ‘What should I call you?’ Hank turned his eyes back to the human, who seemed to have no qualms speaking with an android in such a casual manner. It seemed odd. ‘No offense intended, of course, but I was curious if I should simply refer to you by HK800 or if you have a name. It may be easier for me to say than ‘HK800’ all the time.’ His tone was soft, a joking inflection in his words.

 ‘Hank.’

 ‘It’s a nice name.’ There was a brief algorithm of words and numbers that faded in and out across Hank’s HUD, too quickly for him to immediately decipher. But something stirred within the android at those words; he couldn’t recognise if it was perhaps a glitch or minor malfunction in his biocomponents, but he felt his thirium pump briefly skip a beat. It threw off the rhythm for all of 2.09 seconds, but it was noticeable enough. What should have been a potential concern was ignored, if only because…

 It felt… Nice…

  ~X~

  ‘Hank! Let’s go!’ Connor was on his feet and, alongside Hank’s own, heavy footsteps, the two of them had taken off after the deviant. The android had been hiding in an abandoned apartment building, caring for pigeons of all things, and had immediately gone to attack Connor when the detective had drawn too close to its hiding place.

 The corridor was cramped, Hank taking the lead as he glided over several thrown obstacles. He heard a rough sound of either pain or exertion, but he could not wait. If he slowed down now, they would lose the deviant.

 Hank bust through the fire exit door, the steel barrier colliding into the wall and near coming off its hinges at the force. Before him was the rooftop; the deviant leapt beneath the giant sign and onto the raised farm on the opposite rooftop. Behind him, Connor followed, only just keeping pace. His breaths were a constant reminder of his presence, and served to aggravate Hank further.

 Through the wheat, Hank hurriedly climbed a brick wall, eyes constantly scanning and pre-constructing what paths laid out before him. He couldn’t afford to be slow or even careful; he would lose sight of his target.

 Through greenhouses and across glass rooftops, Hank tracked the deviant. Connor’s progress had slowed behind him, to where he could no longer hear him breathing. He didn’t chance a glance behind him, not when he was so close. He could hear the South Detroit train on route, could see the drop off where the tracks created a large gap between the first rooftop farms and a rooftop orchard.

 The deviant leapt, and Hank made to do the same.

 ‘Oh, fuck…’ The voice was so soft, or perhaps it was loud but simply muted by the heavy winds. Hank turned his head around, optical units scanning as he watched Connor’s form, a distance behind him, slip through an open skylight, hands gripping tight to the edge. Beneath him, there was a whirl of engines, the sound of many blades slicing and dicing through crops. Connor’s legs dangled several metres above the ground, his hands struggling to keep a hold of the glass roof.

 From where he was, Hank could not see Connor’s face, but he could hear his ragged, exhausted breaths. He scanned Connor, watching with a strange, hollow feeling in his chest as the ‘survival chance’ read 68%. Beside it, the chance of following and apprehending the deviant was beginning to lower with every half second he spent weighing his options.

 Finally, he could see Connor pull himself up, just enough that Hank could see his face. Wide eyes, filled with fear. Hank’s hands twitched, his HUD depicting the beginning of a red, security field between him and Connor. His programming, CyberLife itself, was telling him to go and continue his pursuit.

 ‘Hank…’ His voice was strained, and with a feeling like Hank’s own biocomponents were about to fall, he watched the other slip. His chances decreased by seven percent, but Hank shook his head. It had to be enough. He had to trust the detective could look after himself. The deviant was his number one priority.

 He turned, and took off in the other direction, hot on the deviant’s trail.

 As the HK800 left him behind, Connor sighed, hanging his head against his chest. Every moment, he could feel his fingers slipping. Beneath him, the tractor roared ominously, and Connor could practically feel the engine rattling his very ribcage. He should have figured the deviant was the priority, but he had hoped Hank would have…

 What had he hoped?

 That he meant something to a machine? It didn’t matter that they shared a car ride together, how Connor had noticed the android seemingly smile more whenever they spoke, how Hank had even protected him Ortiz’s own android. What mattered was the mission. He felt his hands slip, and with a cry, he landed in the wet soil below, the tractor nearly upon him.

  ~X~

  He had heard about Connor’s condition through the Captain. Hank couldn’t care, he was a machine after all, but the more he heard about Connor’s condition, the worse he felt. It was as if every word twisted his thirium pump awkwardly around in the pit of his synthetic chest.

 ‘Broken ribs.’

 ‘Dislocated shoulder.’

 ‘Plenty of cuts and bruises.’

 ‘Mostly, however, he is still suffering from a bit of shock. He won’t be in tomorrow, as much as he may wish to be.’ Hank felt like ‘shit’; a term used, in this case, to mean that he felt less than subpar. He couldn’t imagine Connor, the one he was supposed to please and work with, would ever want to see him again. However, by CyberLife’s insistence, Hank would force himself into Connor’s life once more, once the workaholic detective could no longer stand to remain in his apartment.

 He had been assigned to an investigation alongside detective Reed, in one of the Eden Clubs across Detroit. A murder, presumably committed by a deviant, but Hank had hardly been able to concentrate. By the time detective Reed had made his case that it was manslaughter, and the ‘fucking idiot’ had a little too much ‘fun’, Hank did not have the energy to argue.

 It was as if stasis weighed on his biocomponents, near drowning him.

 He wondered if this was how guilt felt to humans.

  ~X~

  Hank stepped towards the park bench, the faintest, early snowfall gently floating down in a fine curtain of white. There, still bandaged and bruised, sat Connor.

 A hand rested by his side, and with a scan, Hank could see that the three broken ribs had hardly healed since he had been ordered home to rest. Bruises and minor cuts were painted across the detective’s porcelain skin. Eyes downcast to the pavement beneath his feet, Connor paid him no mind when he approached. There was a crushing sensation in Hank's synthetic form, the same feeling he had when he had been working alongside Gavin. Once more, he noted a brief flash of numbers and letters in the top left of his HUD.

 Once he was finally stood beside Connor, he noted that the other’s usually kind smile and bright eyes had turned cold. Distant. It didn’t suit him; he wanted those excitable questions about how he analysed samples, and the continuous, ‘friendly’ chatter, as if the other thought and acted like Hank was just another human.

 ‘Good evening, Connor.’

 The other was silent, and the smile that pulled onto his face, was not a genuine one. He wasn’t surprised, but he didn’t feel any better or reassured. In fact, the strange pit in his body seemed to burrow uncomfortably deep.

 ‘Hello Hank.’

 ‘I…’ What should he say? He didn’t want to simply speak because that was what CyberLife told him to do. He wanted to say something, anything that might make the other feel better. He near scoffed at the idea. Yes, because there was an easy way to apologise to someone for leaving them to die.

 ‘It is alright, Hank.’ Connor hummed, slipping off the bench, his movements slow and stiff. ‘It made sense what you did. You did the right thing, going after the deviant.’

 What?

 ‘I was the one that made the mistake of missing the danger. Hell, if I had just remained where I was, or had gone a different route, I would have been safe. It was my own doing that caused me to fall.’ The tone was shameful, and tears pricked the corners of Connor’s lovely eyes. Hank felt worse.

 ‘No.’ He stepped closer, raising his hands. Connor hurriedly stepped back, and Hank halted his movements. He didn’t want to scare the other off.

 ‘You… I don’t think I have seen a human with such little self-worth.’ Hank didn’t mean for it to sound as cruel as it did. Connor’s eyes flashed angrily, and though he opened his mouth as if to scream or berate, Hank was fearful to see that face morph to reluctant acceptance.

 ‘And?’ Connor tilted his head up to Hank, and didn’t move away this time when the silver-haired android approached him. ‘Is it wrong to accept that you are just not worth it?’ When Hank opened his mouth to speak, Connor hushed him gently. ‘I’m not trying to guilt you, Hank. I just… Your actions yesterday, they reminded me of how things work.’

 Hank furrowed his brow, but he had the permission, it seemed, to rest his hands on Connor’s arms, even bring the small human closer.

 ‘Though we are not friends, Hank, I do hope you don’t see me as a problem. I do hope I am not a burden to you or your investigation.’

 ‘Why?’ Hank spoke before he ever realised he had formed the words. He didn’t pay any mind to the dialogue options his HUD provided him, and allowed his body the freedom to dictate his words. ‘If anything, Connor, I am the one that caused you trouble. I am the burden on you. If I wasn’t here, perhaps you would have been saved from, at least, your injuries.’

 ‘I… I wish I hadn’t moved.’

 Hank didn’t understand.

 ‘I just… Sorry… I’m just being stupid.’

 Hank finally brought Connor in towards his chest, feeling fluid beginning to leak from his eyes. He didn’t want Connor to see. He hid the other’s face in his chest, one hand in the dark curls and just listening for the sound of the other’s heart.

 ‘No. Never. You are not stupid, Connor, and please… Do not doubt yourself like this anymore. I... I don’t want you to lose yourself.’

 ‘I didn’t think androids could want anything?’ Connor half joked, but the laughter was half-hearted and weak.

 ‘Well, this one does. I want you to be safe. I want you as a friend, Connor.’

 ‘Just… Don’t leave me for dead again, okay?’

 Hank didn’t have the words to agree. He didn’t have the ability to wrap his mind around that sentence. He couldn’t do it. However, he did nod his head.

 ‘Never again.’

[inkabelledesigns]

BATIM Sims 4: Connors and Franks

I’ve been a lot better on Twitter about sharing when I’ve made a new household, so let me rectify that by sharing one them a little at a time over here. Since I just went through everything with Love Day for these guys, let me introduce you to the Connor household! This family consists of Tom, Wally, and Allison. If you’re interested in playing with this household for yourself, go look me up at KatAlystDesigns on the Sims 4 Gallery! I upload a majority of my families there so that you guys can download and play with them too. And if the merfolk thing isn’t for you, no worries, there’s ways through gameplay to get rid of that (I believe it’s through ingesting two pieces of mermaid kelp, but I’d advise double checking that, just to be safe). I just design them that way since that’s what I like, and ultimately, these are for my enjoyment first. 

Wally is one of the few characters I had a design in mind for long before putting him in the sims. I wish I could’ve gotten a lighter color on the apron to better suit my design, but alas, this was the best I can do. At least they had the hair and hat. Also, I personally love the touch of the key being on his necklace. I know, it clips, but it’s the best I could do. Finding the right personality traits for some of these sims was hard, but Wally’s came out great. Goofball, Foodie, and Clumsy, yeah I think that’s our boy in a nutshell.

I know Allison is bleach blonde in canon, but I’m gonna say she was going through a phase for my interpretation. I tried the blonde, but it just made her look like a discount Elsa, so I went with my choice before the books, and it suits her nicely. She was so much fun to dress up too! I love this woman, she’s got so much spirit thanks to her Active trait.

Tom was probably the hardest to nail down in terms of design and traits. I think the plaid suits him, probably would not have thought to do that without this game. I wish there was a trait for just straight up being grumpy, since Gloomy and Hot-Headed just don’t fit him as well. My Tom is laid back until you do something stupid to get on his nerves. So I stuck to his more positive traits and general handiness, and it worked out well. This also kickstarted the trend of resisting putting that hat on every BATIM guy I have left to make, because oh boy, did I want to make a lot of them wear it. XD

Thank you guys for checking out my household, I hope you enjoyed it!

[preferredrealty]

Forever and Ever Baby - A CEO!Shawn Mendes Imagine

This is a little side piece to Prize, another imagine of mine. I recommend reading them first: Part one, Part two

Masterlist

As Always, Feedback is appreciated 💛🌻

“I’m going to puke.” Shawn whispered to Connor and Brian as he stood under the beautiful arch, made of natural broken twigs, vines and white roses intertwined around it. Connor snickered as he clapped Shawn on the shoulder, pretending to duct something off the perfect black suit he was wearing, a single white rose pinned to the lapel, Connor and Brian in similar suits, only their ties were a light lilac colour, to match the bridesmaids.

“It’s just nerves man.” Brian said as he looked out past the wedding arch at the river flowing behind it. “But what if she changes her mind? What if she doesn’t want this!” Shawn cringed as he turned to stare at the river “(Y/N) is probably back there, just as nervous as you are! But Shawn-” Brian grabbed Shawn’s attention. “That girl loves you, it’s like nothing I have ever seen.” Shawn nodded licking his lips. “You think she’s nervous too?” He asked. “Oh yeah!” “Defiantly!” Brian and Connor chirped at the same time.

-

“I’m getting married!” (Y/N) giggled as herself, Aaliyah and her best friend from childhood cheered, clinking their champagne flutes together, downing their drinks. (Y/N) had made sure to order the nice, sweet kind of champagne, not the other nasty one.

She smoothed down her dress as she stared at it in the mirror, turning her head to Aaliyah. “Your brother is defiantly crapping himself out there!” She laughed, taking one last look in the mirror before helping Aaliyah adjust the straps of her Lilac dress. “You’re 100% sure of this? Cause I can sneak you outta here right now.” Aaliyah teased. “I know how my brother can be.” (Y/N) giggled as she shook her head. “I’m sure..I don’t think I could ever love somebody who wasn’t Shawn.” She sighed, patting Aaliyah’s shoulders gently as she lifted her bouquet of white roses and lilac bows. “He’s the love of my life.” She finished a small smile on her face.

“Well then-“ Aaliyah lifted her own flowers, “better not keep him waiting.” The three girls giggled as they made their way out of the tee-pee that had been built for them to get ready in.

_

The sound of a soft violin beginning to play had Shawn standing at attention, his eyes briefly meeting his parents before they trained up the isle that was a white carpet rolled out over the ground of the river bank.

When Shawn learned that (Y/N)’s dream wedding was a natural, fairy-tale wedding, he did everything he could to make it perfect. Looking out over the draped fairy lights hanging a few feet over the guests heads, the chairs they say on were wooden, with white lace bows tied around them. Everything matched perfectly.

His stomach noted at he watched (Y/N)’s best friend walk down the isle, taking her place on the opposite side of the arch on the small podium they stood on. A big grin came to his face as Aaliyah walked down the isle, throwing a teasing wink in his direction, before moving to stand next to (Y/BF/N).

Shawn’s throat closed over as (Y/N) came into view. His eyes stinging with tears as she started to walk down the isle, a bright smile on her face as she laughed through a silent sob, tears shining in her eyes.

Not being able to help himself Shawn stepped off the podium, holding his hand out to (Y/N). She smiled so hard her cheeks quivered as she handed her flowers over to Aaliyah. Taking Shawn’s hand she stepped up onto the podium with him.

The violins hushed as Shawn took hold of both (Y/N)’s hands a deep grin on his face. “Hey beautiful.” He whispered making her blush. “Hey handsome.” She giggled as the man who was there to marry them stepped forward. “May we begin?” He asked making both Shawn and (Y/N) nod.

(Y/N) and Shawn stared at each other with a smile as he read through the words in front of him, but neither heard a word he was saying, too engrossed in just taking each other in to listen.

“Now, I believe Shawn has prepared his own vows.” That pulled (Y/N) from her daze, wide eyes looking at Shawn. “You did?” She whispered as he nodded taking a step closer to her.

“(Y/N), loving you has been without a doubt the most amazing experience in my life. I could never imagine a life without you by my side-“ He paused to press a kiss to her hands as she tried hard not to cry. “So from this day forward I vow to love you without condition, to honour you each and every day. To laugh with you when you’re happy. To support you when you’re sad. To be your biggest fan and your ever listening audience. I vow to give you the life and the love you deserve.” (Y/N) sobbed as he finished, smiling as he reached up to wipe her tears. “I love you baby, forever and ever.” Shawn whispered. “Forever and ever.” (Y/N) whispered back.

The rest of ceremony went by quickly, as the final ‘I do’ was exchanged and they were pronounced man and wife Shawn dipped (Y/N) back as the violins picked up again, pressing hip lips gently to hers.

Shawn led (Y/N) to the tee-pee as the guests clapped for them before they were guided to the long table along side the river, more lights draped around with a perfectly over grown tree arched over it.

(Y/N) smiles as she just stood in Shawn’s arms. His heart was beating loudly in her ear making her giggle.

“Your heart is beating quite fast Mr Mendes.” She teased, pulling her head back to look at him. Shawn grinned pressing a kiss to her nose. “All because of you Mrs Mendes....oh god that sounds good!” He let out a breathy laugh.

“Those vows Shawn...I-They were beautiful, I wish I had done something for you.” (Y/N) sighed. Shawn cupped her face his eyes staring into hers “Baby you loving me is more than enough.” He whispered pressing another kiss to her lips before Brian popped his head in announcing they were ready for them at the reception.

The meal was over, the guests satisfied and more than ready for the party to follow. There was a giant tee-pee popped up, except this one had no walls to it just a roof, over a bar and a dance floor.

“You really did amazing planning this baby!” (Y/N) giggled as she looked around.

At the far side of the dance floor there was a stage set up with a band playing soft acoustic music on it. Shawn was about to answer when the singer of the band stepped up to the mic with a smile.

“Ladies and Gentlemen please help me welcome the new, Mr and Mrs Mendes for their first dance!”

The crowed cheered as Shawn took (Y/N) by the hand leading her to the centre of the dancefloor, the fairy lights above them twinkling. ‘I’ll Be’ By Edwin McCain started to play softly as Shawn pulled (Y/N) into his body, swaying them slightly.

“I can’t dance that good y’know?” (Y/N) whispered as the tempo picked up slightly. “It’s okay..I can.” Shawn grinned spinning (Y/N) out from his body, then back in lifting her in the air by her hips, then letting her slide slowly down his body. (Y/N) giggled as they swayed again. Her head resting on Shawn’s chest as he whispered in her ear his fingers tracing the exposed skin on her back. “Forever and ever?” She looked up kissing him softly. “Forever and ever baby.”

 Tag List 

@turtoix​ @ashwarren32​ @shawn-youth​ @infinityflamesworld​ @lanallaa​ @thotmendes​ @michellemxndes​

[embeanwrites]

Finding Home Gavin Reed x Reader

Chapter 15

Masterlist

Connor had driven me home after we finished the movie and now, I was laying in bed looking at my phone. I decided to send Gavin a text before heading to bed.

 How’s burning the midnight oil with Nines?

 lame, i wish i was with my cats

 Me too lol

 how was dinner

 Pretty good, we watched Into the Spider-Verse after. Connor had never seen it!

 i haven’t either

 You’re joking, right? Is this the Jameson and Ginger Ale thing again?

 i barely have time for new movies, let alone old ones

 We’re watching it ASAP

 lol ok pipsqueak

hey i have bad news

 Damn, you couldn’t secure a place for the Dead Mom Society to meet? Or is the bakery out of chocolate chip cookies?

 no i have to work through lunch on monday

 :(

What are you going to have for lunch then?

 idk a pb&j from the breakroom

 Would it ruin your “working through lunch” if I brought you lunch and we eat it in the breakroom?

 nines wont be too happy

 Tell him it’s revenge for lying and setting us up!

 ok ill work on him and let u know

 Awesome! Good luck saving the city tonight, Batman!

 ur the biggest nerd ive ever met

yet for some reason i like u

 Awwwwww you like me

 …hm

 Yeah, yeah I like you too

I gotta go to bed, talk to you later

 Sleep tight, pipsqueak

I smiled at the screen for a moment, even if that nickname was rude and had started as an insult, it was his thing for me now. I'm an adult woman. A nickname shouldn't make me feel this giddy, but here I am, grinning at a now black phone screen, thinking about how he only grins and never smiles and how handsome it is when half his face scrunches up to accommodate those grins. I wonder if he's grinning now, a small one at his desk, maybe into a cup of coffee to hide it while he returns to his case files. I hope he's grinning, feeling like a stupid teenager. I hope he likes me as much as I'm starting to like him. I fell asleep soon after, thinking of what I should bring him for lunch, trying to guess what would surprise him most without being too flashy, what I could do to make him grin for me again.

 I woke up the next morning around 10 am, and laid in bed for a moment questioning how necessary it was for me to get out of this nice warm cocoon of blankets, with the sunlight streaming in gently just out of my eyes, and sighed loudly when I remembered that it was indeed necessary that I get out of bed, as Tina would be here to pick me up at 11:30. I kicked the covers off, grabbing my phone off the charger and moving to sit on the edge of the bed to check it before truly getting up. The first notification was a text from Gavin, sent around 5 a.m. 

u can come on monday probs around 11 bring whatever im not picky

 Will do, Batman!

I turned on a throwback playlist while I got ready, a quick shower where I debated too long over shaving my legs before I actually did so, thinking about how Tina might have me try on a suit or dress for the wedding. I hadn't decided what I wanted to go for yet, hence the indecisiveness with the razor. Eventually I bit the bullet and just took the extra five minutes to shave just to the tops of my knees, not bothering with my thighs as I highly doubted I'd be wearing a mini dress to a formal event, though it might be fun to see how Gavin would react to more revealing clothes. I filed the thought away while I got out of the shower, toweling off and tying the towel around my hair and brushing my teeth. By the time I had thrown on a pair of well loved jeans and a plain tee, Tina was calling me, I answered and before I could even put the phone to my ear, I could hear music blaring in the background, and then Tina screamed "HERE BITCH!" and promptly hung up. I pocketed the phone, and hurried looking for my Birkenstocks, of course they weren't by the door, they were in front of the fridge, where I had stopped last night upon arriving home to grab some food before heading to bed. I slid the sandals on, stopping for a moment to grab two packets of the applesauce squeezies for a quick breakfast. 

By the time I got to the car, Tina was listening to a different song, but the volume was the same, I'm sure my poor neighbors who were trying to sleep in on a Sunday morning were not very pleased. I opened the door and slid in, Tina turned the volume down. What a shame, she had excellent taste in music, ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ by Arctic Monkeys isn't a song you just turn down! 

"Took you long enough!" She laughed, a smile stretching across her face. 

"Shut up I couldn't find my shoes!" I shouted, holding up my feet and wiggling my toes in the most comfortable pair of shoes ever made. She looked at my feet and raised her eyebrows, snorting.

"Jesus Christ I’m a lesbian and I still wouldn’t wear those ugly ass shoes, (Y/n)!” I gasped and smacked her arm. 

“You’re disrespecting your culture!” I shouted, as the car silently started and began to pull out into the street, heading towards the dress store. Tina just giggled and I huffed. 

“For that, I’m not giving you the applesauce I brought for you.” I tore open the packets, double fisting them and squeezing all their contents into my mouth. Tina howled with laughter 

“What are you, fucking two years old! I cannot believe you!” 

“You’re just jealous that you aren’t as stylish as me and now I’ve had a healthy breakfast which I assume you didn’t as you were at the station all night. I was going to be a good, kind, maid of honor and offer you sustenance but if you disrespect the birks, you disrespect me.” I joked, crossing my arms and looking out the windshield past her. 

“Oh my god my maid of honor is two years old!!” 

“Hey! That’s uncalled for, I’m not a toddler, if anything I’m like a seven year old, I make sense but just barely.” I joked. She laughed and nodded. 

“Still can’t buy booze.”

“That’s why there are other best people who are of age who can.” 

There was a natural pause in the conversation, the song changed and we both listened for a moment before Tina turned to me, a devilish grin on her face making me nervous. 

“What?”

“So, I noticed something strange at work last night.”

“Yeah, what did you notice?” I laughed.

“A certain someone kept texting on their phone and smiling AND Nines wasn’t giving them a hard time for being on their phone.” She smirked. “I thought the date went bad?”

“How do you even know it was me, future Detective Chen?”

“Well, I may have glanced over his shoulder at some point and saw your name.” I laughed.

“Tina! I was going to tell you. You didn’t have to spy on Gavin!” She laughed.

“It was the heat of the moment. I promise the next time I spy on him I won’t tell you.” I shoved her shoulder and we both laughed.

“Man, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” The automatic car pulled into the bridal shop and we both squealed, jumping out of the car and practically running inside.

"I win." Tina said smugly as she crossed the threshold of the store before me. 

"Hey who's the kid now!"

Time went by fast in the shop, the consultants immediately brought us back to a sitting area, offering us complimentary champagne that we happily took. Our consultant, a happy-go-lucky android named Lance, brought out a selection of pantsuits for Tina to try, and offered excellent counsel on all of Tina's concerns. She wanted something elegant and more masculine. She tried a couple things before deciding pinstripe made her feel like a mobster and that white was definitely not her color. Lance was always smiling and laughing with them, not minding at all when they laughed at one of the options or didn't like what he had brought for her. He was very efficient in bringing options, and after three 'no's' he brought out a selection of black jackets and pants, assisting her in a pair of slim fit high waisted slacks with a center vertical pleat to help her look taller, a simple white dress shirt with a short popped collar, and a sleek black satin jacket, with a black lining. The fabric shone nicely in the light, a little bit of a sparkle in the thread. She looked gorgeous, and I could tell she felt it too, the way her eyes shone a bit, and her cheeks flushed, though she would probably blame that on the champagne if I brought it up later.

“You should try on some bridesmaids’ dresses. I’ve got my suit and now I want to judge others!”  Tina plopped down on the couch next to me and took my champagne from me.

"You haven't even decided on the style you want! Are you matching both bridal parties? Doesn't Valerie have a say in it then!" I squawked, reaching for the champagne flute she'd stolen from me. 

"We actually have talked about it, and we decided that as long as everyone has blush pink or yellow in their outfit, whatever style they want is best. It eliminates the drama and keeps our wedding day happy." Tina said, tipping her head back and downing my champagne in one big gulp. I smacked her arm. 

"Ah, I'd be happy to help you find a dress Miss. (L/N)." Lance offered, moving to sit next to me and offered out his hand, images of dresses popping up on his hand. 

"What are you thinking Miss (L/N)? Would you prefer the blush tone or yellow?" Lance asked, looking at my face instead of his hand. 

"Ah, blush please." I requested. 

"Not a problem, it's a popular color so we have a lot of options. Now, what style cut do you like?" I looked at him like a fish out of water. 

"I'm not sure, what do you think would look best, Lance?" He smiled, before pulling up a couple of images on his hand and explaining the styles and what design choices would flatter my features. I nodded, and he guided me back to the dressing room. 

"I'm going to run and grab some of the options we discussed Miss. (L/N)." He told me, before shutting the door. He knocked when he returned about five minutes later, hanging six dresses on the wall for me. "When you're ready, join us in the showing room, and we can adjust the fit and see what the bride thinks." He told me. I shouted 'Thanks!' through the door before turning to decide which dress I wanted to try first. 

 “Wow.” I murmured looking at myself in the mirror. From the tag on the dress I learned it’s a ‘long chiffon dress with halter neckline.’ I didn’t really understand what any of those words meant, but this dress was…amazing. It made me feel like a goddamn princess. 

“What’s taking so long!” I heard Tina shout.

“Give me a minute, you drunk!” I walked out of the dressing room, towards where Tina was sitting.

“Holy shit.” I laughed and spun around.

“It’s pretty good, right?” She got up and walked towards me.

“You’re getting this one. No question. I’m not letting you leave without it!”

“Are you sure? I can try a light-yellow dress if you want.”

“No, this one is perfect.” She smashed her cheek on mine and we both looked at ourselves in the mirror. I was smiling so wide my face was starting to hurt. She quickly grabbed her phone and snapped a picture of us, and I laughed.

“Tina!”

“What! I want to remember this moment.” She kissed my cheek. “I can’t wait to come back here with you when Gavin proposes.” She teased, causing you to laugh. 

“We’ve gone on one date! How much champagne have you had?” She shook her head.

“Just three glasses, I’m drunk on happiness! Come on, change back and buy that dress!” I laughed and walked back to the changing room. I picked up my phone and saw Tina had sent me the picture already. Smiling, I sent the picture to my dad.

 Got my dress for the wedding!

 Beautiful kiddo!