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piastrinorris · 2 years

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busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

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Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, drug content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 8.9k

A/N: Holy shit, look at this! One month to finish one chapter, and then I churn out another in 5 days. Who am I?!

Seriously, your response to last chapter blew me away. That's what got me writing so quick. That, and I can't bear our Ralphie being sad, lol. This is a very Ralph-centric chapter, so I hope you enjoy! <3

Also, this chapter introduces what may be my most favourite character yet. I can't wait to write more of her.

Set your alarm to a sound you like, they said. You’ll wake up in a better mood, they said. Guaranteed good start to the day, they said. You don’t even remember putting your phone on charge last night. You remember getting out of the taxi. You remember opening the door. You remember going up the stairs. You remember face-planting into the bed. But you don’t even remember getting your phone back out from where you’d put it.

Something doesn’t feel right about the bed, though. You roll over and notice there’s no other weight pressing down on the mattress. Turning yourself fully, you see that Ralph’s not in the bed with you. Neither are his pillows. His phone is charging on his nightstand, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Until you see some movement out of the corner of your eye, and look down to see him asleep on the floor. He’s brought his pillows down with him, but he’s only got his coat to cover him. Leaning across the mattress, you reach down over the side of it to prod him. “Hey. Ralph. C’mon, get into bed.” He grunts, shaking his head around until his face is buried into the pillow. You tut and groan, “Fuck’s sake, I’m taking a shower and then going downstairs, so just… Stop being so bloody awkward and get some decent sleep, at least.”

Holding your head as you shake it, you clamber out of the bed and trundle your way into the bathroom. Poking at the remnants of last night’s face, you try and save as much of your skin’s condition as you can by taking a wipe to it before you get into the shower.

The shower takes far longer than usual, as if you’re not already running behind on your own schedule. As you watch the water run down your limbs, words echo in your head. Having you at my ankles 24/7 is fucking exhausting. Tell me the truth already, it’ll hurt less. For fuck’s sake, Ralph, I don’t want you gone! I’m just a -thing now. Tipping your head up, you let every stream of water punch you in the face, cleansing you of all the negativity that last night had left on you.

Once you’re finally washed, dried and dressed, you don’t even bother checking if Ralph got into the bed before you go back downstairs. The friends that are awake so far greet you gingerly, and you groan, your face wincing. “Do you guys -”

“We’ve already agreed that we’re Switzerland here,” Connor interjects. “We don’t know your side. We barely know Ralph’s, he was a wreck.” You let out another small groan. “And it’s obviously very fresh so we won’t pry,” he holds his hands up.

“But, we are still here for the both of you, however you need us,” Scott nods.

You nod back, “’Preciate it, thanks. I was actually gonna ask if - I’ll happily take back anyone’s bags, to make room, but I was wondering if… Any of you had space, if you could… Take him home for me, I’d be super grateful.”

“He can come back with us,” Anna looks over at Scott and his partner, who both nod back.

“We’ll take care of him. Take the time you need,” Scott comforts you with a warm hug across the shoulders.

Once you hear one more person coming down the stairs, you feel your insides turn to lead in seconds. Grabbing some toast, you sneak your way through the ground floor rooms so that you can get back to the stairs without having to face him again.

Quickly filtering through the clothes in Ralph’s - your suitcase that he’s using, you can tell he’s gotten dressed for the day, so collecting his remainders and packing them, as well as your own, you get to loading up your car. Anna and the boys helpfully take their bags out, too, offering hugs and words of sympathy and gratitude.

“Ralph mentioned something about wanting to go somewhere before we leave, so we’ll probably be a bit late back, okay?” Anna tells you. “You gonna be alright?”

You nod, “I think it’ll do me good to have some me time.”

“I do, too. Just don’t get too angry and do something stupid, ’kay?” Anna makes you promise and gives you one final hug before you head out onto the road.

As you set your phone up to start playing music for the drive home, you notice the notifications on your lock screen:

Missed call (12)

Voicemail (9)

With a heavy sigh, you leave them on the screen, at least until you get to a service station. After filling the car up, getting some snacks and a drink for the journey, and getting back on the road, you finally bite the bullet and start playing the voicemails through your car’s speaker:

“How dare you run out on me?! You didn’t even give me a fighting chance to truly say my piece, I thought that very unfair of you. Need I remind you that all of this is extremely new to me, not to mention completely terrifying?! Life as I know it is gone, and I don’t know when I can go back. How can you not see that from my point of view?!”

“I was only looking out for you, you know. It wasn’t proper, the way he was around you. You didn’t see the way he was looking at you, like you were a piece of meat, it was vulgar. And especially while you were under the influence of alcohol, how advantageous for him! What with you being so far from home, I was simply intervening to make sure you were safe!”

“And what on earth made you think that I see you as a replacement for my own mother?! For one thing, Mother never even did any of her own cooking or cleaning. I thought you were a friend. Friends don’t leave their friends stranded in loud places that they don’t know, half a hundred miles away from another place they don’t even know anymore!”

“Don’t you even worry yourself any further. As soon as we get back to London, I’m making it priority number one to go and find that old man and demanding he take me back to my own time again. I don’t care that he told you that it was random, I’ll sleep under the bridge with him for however long is needed if that’s what it takes to get me back to my home. That’s what you want, and so that’s what I’ll do. If I’m going to be an unwanted presence, I may as well do it in a time and a place that I know, where I have enough money to my name that people will at least pretend to like me without ever telling me they don’t!”

“I’ve made a terrible mistake here. I was getting upset and so I went outside for some fresh air, and then I wanted to go home too, but I can’t do that without money and so I started walking in the direction that I thought was the sea, but now I fear I’ve gone too far. I’m going to turn back. I hope I haven’t accidentally made any turns that I’ve forgotten about. Oh, what a fool I am. Stupid, stupid, stupid Ralph. Why am I even on the phone, it’s not like you can help me now. Or that you’d want to.”

“I’ve given up on walking now, I’m just sitting on the edge of the path. People keep dropping coins next to me. Perhaps those can be a consolation fee to you. Or perhaps this is how I earn my keep after all. Everybody pity poor, pathetic Ralph. Not enough to stop his father going through his staff as if our home doubled as a brothel, not enough to save his mother from the heartbreak of Father’s death. Not enough for Victoria to ever even consider me more than the social title we both held together being who we are. Not even enough to keep the only person who ever cared about me to stay.”

“Oh blast, what have I done? I don’t want to lose you. I - Just because I had promised myself that I wouldn’t repea- Gah, don’t do it, Ralph, this isn’t the proper way, stupid -”

“I realise that last message left quite abruptly. Connor found me and took me back to the bar and now we’re waiting for a taxi but I went to the toilet first. And I felt that feeling again when you look at yourself in the mirror and suddenly everything feels all wobbly. And I think I’ve said some very bad things that I can’t remember. But I do know I’m still mad at you, as well. I didn’t want to say any of those things, but you can’t deny you’re not responsible for this fight, too. I hope you’re sleeping well.”

“We are home now. Well, not home home but we are back at the house. I went up to the bedroom but you were already in the middle of the bed, fast asleep. I shan’t wake you, and I suppose I should learn my place at some point. I took the liberty of taking your phone out and putting the charger into it. I couldn’t tell you why I’m still leaving you these messages, I suppose I just… I’m upset with you, but also I want to talk to you, because you know better than anyone how to make me happier again. And I want to talk about all of this, but also I don’t know if that is such a good idea or it’ll just keep dragging this out. But won’t it be worse if we never do? Mother and Father never talked their problems out - not that we’re - oh, I give up.”

You’re not sure how you feel. You want to cry. You want to scream. You want to shake Ralph by his shoulders, but you also want to hug him tightly and let that citrusy scent of his envelop you.

He’s right, though. You want to talk to him, but you also don’t. Because you know that the things you want to say, the things you could say to the Ralph you envision in your head, the real Ralph wouldn’t reply in the same way. He’d probably get defensive and you wouldn’t actually get anywhere because he’d get stubborn and you’d get upset. Or maybe he would hear you out. Maybe you’re just villainising him at the moment because of how fresh the wounds of last night are.

Even so, even if you do start to address every elephant in the room, how far do you allow that to unravel? Do you tell him the truth, that if you don’t spite him for his actions, you’ll only keep forgiving them if only because you can’t bear to think of life without him? Do you stand there and beg for him to never leave the 21st century, consequences be damned? Do you honestly believe your life is some kind of late-2000s rom-com movie?

The closer you get back to London, the more you dwell on certain parts of certain messages. Especially the part about Ralph deciding he’ll live the rest of his days in this era with Homeless Pete. Was he serious about that? You have most of his possessions either with you or back at the flat, but would he come back for them? Would there even be a point? No, you can’t imagine Ralph would last more than twenty minutes out there roughing it.

But what if he doesn’t come back to you? What if one of your friends agrees to take him in, instead? You’re sure that your relationship with them wouldn’t change in the slightest, but you’re not certain that he would remain neutral. Would he feel too uncomfortable around you? Would there be a home amongst your friends’ that you would no longer be welcome in?

Maybe he is out of your life for good after this. Maybe he is just going to find somewhere else to live until the time machine lift fixes. Maybe going cold turkey is what you need. You were getting too ahead of yourself. And besides, even in a scenario where he really does have no choice but to return, it’s only a matter of time before all of this piles up again, and then you’re right back here. Is it worth putting yourself through this much turmoil time and again for something so fruitless?

But that insinuates that you’ve only ever been helping Ralph for your own ulterior motives. Ralph didn’t come to you seeking anything other than - well, he wasn’t seeking anything out, the poor guy just ended up here. But you happened to find him. And you took him in and gave him the roof over his head that he needed. You kept him fed and comfortable, is that not just something you’d do out of the kindness of your own heart? Is it really fair to turf him out because you can’t keep your feelings in check? Or is it fairer to cut him loose, and let him forge his own path with whomever he wants to, not just the first person he meets?

As you pull into the familiar busy streets of Croydon, you wonder just how far back Anna and the others are. Her last update, and Connor’s, all came at similar times, but where Connor was informing you all that he, Grace and her boyfriend were halfway there, Anna was texting to say they were just leaving Brighton.

Parking your car in its spot, you look up through your windscreen at the towering block of flats, resting your chin against your steering wheel. You know that everything’s just going to remind you of him in there, too. But where else could you go?

~~~

After one final trip to the beachfront, Ralph knew it was time to face the music. No hiding behind false smiles and fake words. Although, maybe he had ruined the chance at fixing things with words, even if they were true. Perhaps you’ll be truly sick of him. The way everyone always is.

Of course, nobody likes a self-pitiful fool. You’d made that abundantly clear last night. But what else is Ralph to do? It’s not wrong. He’s always been second fiddle. Never picked in classes, never favoured by his peers, never favoured by his parents, even the help were always far more charmed by Victoria than they were by him. And Ralph never understood why, he always tried to emulate his sister in every way, but that just wasn’t right, for some reason.

In the car, Anna suggests playing some songs that’ll make Ralph feel better. He agrees, and it does lift his spirits as he hears the familiar voice of his now-favourite singer, but the lyrics bring his mood straight back down again. He frowns, “I thought you said these songs would cheer me up.”

“I said they’d make you feel better,” Anna corrects. “Sometimes when you’re feeling sad, it’s better to just… I dunno, let someone else talk about how you’re feeling. Makes you feel less alone in it all. It’s cathartic.”

And so Ralph spends most of the car journey back in relative silence, forehead pressed against the cool glass of the car window as he argues with himself. What the devil is he supposed to do now?

Yes, he may have told you in the heat of the moment that he'd rather live with that awful man, and yes, in theory that does sound like the perfect solution - it gives you the closure from Ralph that you apparently want, as well as giving him direct access to the only person who can help… put him back. Those words pierce him, etching deeper into his brain every time he thinks them.

But, in reality? Ralph tries to remember the area that you’d taken him to when you’d first talked to that homeless man about how he’d ended up here. He remembers dirty people, dirty mattresses with little to no springs. No place for a Penbury, that’s for sure. Though is Ralph even one at this point?

What does he expect to happen when he goes back in time, back to Penbury House? You’d always encouraged him to tell Victoria to “shove it”, but how well would that be taken? Surely she’d just tell him the same thing and turf him out? She’d have more reason to, it’s been her place of residence and she’d surely have the other four on her side.

And did he want to win Lauren back? DId he want to come back with a bravado that she’d find attractive? Did he really want her to find him attractive anymore? Yes, he’d been drawn to her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, but she certainly made her intentions with him - or lack thereof - very well-known. Ralph looks in the mirror at Scott and his partner in the back seat, both chatting away as they hold hands. Lauren would never love Ralph like that.

Scott’s reflection catches Ralph’s eye and raises his eyebrows in slight concern. Ralph simply nods with a small smile. He looks over at Anna, who’s singing along with the song that’s currently playing. She notices his gaze and briefly meets it, gesturing encouragingly as her singing becomes more deliberate. Though Ralph has yet to master lyrics to the songs he now likes, his smile does grow a little bigger as he moves his head from side to side in rhythm with the song. Anna, in turn, beams back at him before focusing on the road once again.

This is the sort of love Ralph always dreamt of having someday. Of course, there’s still more that he’d love to have. He’d love someone to wake up to every morning, to embrace and to kiss and to devote every waking moment to. Oh blast, this is his internal monologue, he can say it; he’d love to wake up to you every morning, to embrace you and to kiss you and to devote every waking moment to you.

But this sort of love is just as important. Friends who check up on him, and who cheer him up. He’ll miss that once he’s back in his own era. Not that he’d be able to keep it up for much longer if he were to stick around. Your friends are loyal creatures, and you’ve known them for far longer. It would only hurt anyway if he were to stay and they were to pick you.

Though, who’s to say that they would? The words you’d told him days ago echo in his mind. If Ralph wants to be their friend, he has to believe that they want to be his friend, too. And they’ve only ever made him feel like he was part of the group, from the day they met him. Perhaps they’d be willing to remain in contact with Ralph even if you didn’t want to. But wouldn’t that split the group up? Or has Ralph been underestimating you, as a part of the friend group as well, and perhaps you would still remain friends with him after all of this. But could he face you after the things that were said?

And how would he explain himself? You’ve obviously got it in your head that Ralph only intervenes because he wants attention. Does he explain that he wants so much more than that? That he wants a whole life with you? What would be the point in disclosing that now, when obviously Ralph’s destiny would doom any sort of relationship between you. If he knew how long he had, perhaps he could simply keep those thoughts where they already remain, in his imagination. For the sake of the group, and for the sake of just getting to spend as much time around you as possible.

Is that self-destructive of Ralph? Maybe. But if he’s on borrowed time, what’s the use in wasting it? Doesn’t he deserve these fleeting moments of happiness, too? Even if he knows they’ll only end in disaster for him, it’s not as though he’s got a lot going for him, anyway

Before Ralph knows it, he’s starting to recognise certain streets. And then Anna’s stopping outside your block of flats. Ralph gets out, with gracious nods of thanks and grateful smiles to everyone in the car, and waves them off as they drive away. He looks up to the ninth floor windows, eyes squinting with the brightly lit clouds that overcast the late November sky.

Ralph takes a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. He squares his shoulders up. His eyes still trained on the window he knows is yours, he once again inhales deeply, holds it for a second… And promptly turns on his heel and power-walks down the street.

He’s not sure where he’s going, wherever his legs take him, he supposes. He rounds a corner and is suddenly met by a very familiar face. “Ah! Mister… P-Peter, wasn’t it?” The man grunts and waves his hand from side to side. “You’re the one that brought me here, aren’t you?” The man studies Ralph’s face intently for a moment and then realisation dawns. He clicks his fingers as his eyes widen and he nods, and then before he can react, Homeless Pete grabs Ralph by the arm and leads him back to the building Ralph first emerged from almost 3 months ago.

Ralph looks through the open doors, to the carpeted floors that look unchanged from when he last walked them. The lift doors stare back at him ominously. “Are - are you bringing me here because… Is it time?” Despite the inevitability of this moment, a tidal wave of sadness crashes over Ralph. This is it. The man shrugs and nods.

Ralph looks at him with sorrowful eyes, “Do you think I have time to say my goodbyes, at least?” Another shrug and a wrinkle of the nose bridge. Ralph is perplexed. “Well, how long have I got?” A shrug, a gesture to himself, a gesture to the lift. Until Mr Peter goes in himself, Ralph deduces.

He ponders for a moment. “Do you - what would happen, would you say, if I were to… To not go back? Would it affect… You know?” Ralph gesticulates wildly around himself. With a fleeting amused smile, Homeless Pete shakes his head. He gestures to himself, then out to the left. Back to himself, and then out to the right. Another shrug.

As Ralph’s trying to figure it out, Pete then taps his arm, holds up 4 fingers and looks at Ralph expectantly. He then points to the ground, and holds up the four fingers again. “Oh! Do you mean the four that travelled to us? L-Lauren and the rest?” The name still catches in his throat. Pete nods. He looks all around, in all directions. He shrugs at Ralph. “Do you think life is no different with them staying where they are?” Pete shakes his head.

Ralph could practically feel his brain doing somersaults trying to understand it all. So, perhaps there is a chance for him to stay, after all? But how on earth would that be feasible? He can't do anything that requires legal documentation - he could never get a job, or buy a house, or see a doctor, or travel the world, or get married. What if he became horrifically unwell? Which is the worse fate, to die a slow and physically painful death amongst friends, or a slow and emotionally painful death from a broken heart, all alone?

Even that rides upon the illusion that you and your friends would remain with Ralph until the end of his days. What if you never take him back? What if you do, but the cycle repeats itself until you leave him hung out to dry? While his lady friends are all good company, none of those are exactly chomping at the bit to talk to him. He’s usually the one that starts conversations with them. How could he expect any of them to put him up forevermore? He’d have to disclose the true nature of his existence to them eventually, and what if they took it poorly?

“Could I… Have some time to mull this over, please?” Ralph eventually asks. A grunt. Four fingers up. A point to the ground. “You would like to reconvene at 4pm?” A nod. “Very well, I shall return by 4pm promptly.”

Ralph turns away and starts walking in whatever direction he’s stopped at. He keeps walking, hoping to outrun the swarm of conflicting thoughts trying to consume his head, until he hits the high street. At the end of it, another familiar building. Far older than the rest. With a big black sign hanging off of the side wall that has a big white W on it.

Ralph approaches the bookstore as though his legs are moving him there automatically, completely independently from his own volition. He stops himself as he gets close, though - letting someone pass breaks him out of his trance. Watching so many people going in and out of his front door. He recognises a dark plaque by the side of it - it’s much too far away for Ralph to read it, but he doesn’t need to. He knows what it says by heart. Penbury House, est. 1898. It was a wedding present from Ralph’s maternal grandparents so that his parents may start a family. Oh, how his mother’s family loved that she were married to Lord Penbury. She was no lowly peasant herself, of course, but a Lord, no less!

Ralph always resented inheriting that title. It made him just like his father. And it was his father’s penchant for… Whatever he was doing with that young woman, that led to his untimely demise. A real stain on the Penbury name. If not for the twins turning their reputation around to being total carefree socialites, with free rein of a mansion, complete with the family wealth, and no parental guidance, they surely would have had no leg to stand on.

Taking another deep breath, Ralph marches past the old oak doors and into what was once his hallway. Cash registers adorn the hallway, along with a Customer Service desk right up at the front. Ralph approaches it and asks meekly, “Excuse me, do you know much of the history of this building?”

“Uhh, I know some super rich family owned it until the daughter blew all their money and it was repo’ed. Someone made it into a bookstore and then, big capitalism over here,” they gesture wildly with their arms, “Waterstone’s bought it out. As far as I know, they obviously didn’t keep any of the furniture but all of the walls and floors and that are restored as best they can be.”

Of course Victoria wasted all their family’s fortune away. With the help of those four, no doubt. Ralph wonders whether that means he really is needed back in his own era. To keep her from ruining the Penbury name. With a small nod of thanks to the staff member, he slowly starts to walk around the hallowed halls.

The dining area, filled with aisles of jigsaw puzzles and card games, like the ones he was playing with your friends over the past week. What a strangely apt crossover of Ralph’s two worlds, he thinks to himself. In the next room, there are craft supplies and children’s games all around it. Children run laps around their parents. What a strange sight to behold in a kitchen, though now it looks as though there was never a stove in it. The living area is absolutely chock-full of books. Piles and piles. “Best Selling”. “New In Stock”. “Booktok Finds”, whatever that means. There’s a couple on a book cover in a display titled “Modern Romance” who look a lot like a cartoon version of Scott and his partner. If he could, Ralph would have liked to buy them it.

He thinks back to the ukulele that Connor had bought him. Although he’d had no means of paying him back, Ralph had tried to insist on paying Connor back in some way, but he’d shrugged him off, insisting that it was “fine” and “’s just what mates do, innit?” No matter how much he racks his brain, Ralph can’t remember a time when anyone ever bought him a gift. On his birthday, he’d get presents for little boys, but not necessarily for Ralph. Footballs and train sets and toy soldiers. He had far more fun on Victoria’s rocking horse, or even games as simple as a hoop and stick, though running through the house with them always ended with harsh words and a harsher reception from his father’s cane.

The door leading out to the garage has a sign on it that says [Staff Only]. Clerks would walk in empty-handed and come out again with arms full. He assumes that’s where the inventory is kept.

He notices that there are people running up and down the stairs, and asks the very helpful clerk at the front if it’s okay to go up there. They tell him it is, and explain that there is a cordoned off area for staff only, but that there are plenty more books to be found, as well as some toilets if that’s what he’s looking for. He assures them that it isn’t, but he thanks them again regardless.

Victoria’s quarters are now the staff quarters. The bathroom… Still serves some of its purposes. The master bedroom and his father’s office are all also filled with bookshelves. It almost feels like an invasion of privacy, seeing all these people walk through rooms that even Ralph and Victoria were forbidden from, back in the day.

Which leaves one more room. Taking a moment to compose himself, he steps into what used to be his bedroom and is met with the most amazing smells. Sounds of china clinking against itself as cups find saucers. The gentle chatter of people sitting in what appears to be a small cafe. So many people in his space. Nothing to suggest it was ever the room he grew up in.

He’s stood by a counter, looking around while lost in thought, when the barista behind the counter gets his attention. “Everything okay, sir? Would you like anything?”

Ralph coughs out, “Oh, please, I’m no sir. Um, it’s fine, I haven’t… Brought any money with me or anything. Just here to look around.”

Nodding slowly while frowning, the barista steps away for a moment before returning and sliding a full cup of saucer his way. “Oh, no!” they say in a very deliberate tone. “I seem to have made this all wrong for one of my customers, and I would hate to waste it! Would you mind taking it off my hands, so my boss doesn’t see?”

Ralph looks perplexed. “But I just saw you - and how could you possibly go wrong with tea, you’ve not put any milk in yet or -”

They wave him off. “You look like you need it. Call it my good deed for the day. What milk should I “accidentally” put in?” They make air quotes with their fingers, which makes Ralph chuckle.

He tells them which milk he’d prefer and they add it to his liking - “accidentally,” Ralph repeats the motions back to the barista who smiles back. “Should I tell others of your good deed, or do you wish for it to remain unknown?”

They grin widely. “Maybe no photos, but you can subtweet me if you like.”

Ralph frowns. “What’s a sub-tweet?”

“You can tweet about it without mentioning any specifics about me,” they explain. “Big fan, by the way.”

Ralph looks elated, but then his face falls. “Would - Are you going to ask me for a photo?”

“Oh god, no, I don’t think either of us are prepared for that! This chat’s been more than enough for me,” they smile at him once more before serving the next customer.

Ralph takes the cup with a warmth in his heart as he finds a free table that, once he’s sat at, is in the exact same placement as though he were sat at his own bed. He rubs his thumb back and forth across the rim of the cup, replaying that little conversation over and over. Being shown such a genuine act of kindness, with the person getting absolutely no personal gain from it, and within the walls of his own home, as well - sure, the people who wanted photos was flattering enough, but for once, someone just wanted to connect with Ralph. To validate that they didn’t think him an annoyance.

That gets him thinking yet again. About all of the times in this building he’s heard, “Not now, Ralph!” “For crying out loud, boy, will you stop?!” “Ugh, what is it now, hm?!” And about how he hasn’t heard a single utterance of any of those phrases since living with you.

Maybe it was never Ralph that was annoying - you never made him feel that way, even at the beach when he was trying to help you find your rock. Every time Ralph tried to help, you were never unkind. Even when he would get too excited and hand you one that he’d already done before, you telling him, “You’ve already shown me that one!” was accompanied with laughter. What a sweet sound that was. Ralph misses it so. Even when the day’s excursion was unsuccessful because he got distracted playing with a child, you were completely unperturbed by it.

Maybe Ralph isn’t annoying. Maybe you were just the first selfless person out there who had the patience for him. Maybe…

Ralph shoves his hands into his coat pockets and feels around. He feels something large and leaves it be, and then feels something long and smooth. He takes out the photo reel of the two of you and looks at each photo. He’d have never been allowed to pose for any of the Penbury family portraits like this. Not even the soft smiles in the top one. The smile that looks so good on you. How could Ralph ever want to do anything other than make you feel like that all of the time?

As he sips his tea, his thumb absent-mindedly rubs over the bottom photo. Ralph couldn’t believe his luck, to feel your lips on his face. Of course, he had plenty more from the rest of your friends, but it wasn’t the same. How lucky Ralph was on that day. How happy the two of you were. He’d do anything to make sure you were that happy, again.

Anything.

He pockets the photos carefully, before finishing his tea in one big gulp, thanking the barista silently but profusely, and making his way out of Penbury House once more.

He wasn’t exactly expecting Homeless Pete to be waiting outside of the building the whole time, and so it’s a rather charming surprise to see him there still. Ralph stays back for a few moments, figuring out what his next words will be to Pete, since they’ll likely be the last he addresses them with. Once he’s decided, after several minutes of deliberating, he takes a deep breath and strides up to the other man.

“Mister Peter, after thinking long and hard about this, I have decided I wish to stay. I just feel as though I still have -”

Homeless Pete cuts him off with a grunt before turning around and shuffling into the building. Ralph frowns at the sight of the back of him. He was so looking forward to getting certain things off of his chest, and it was such a big decision to make, now it all feels rather anticlimactic. It’s rather underwhelming, if he’s being honest.

Turning back and walking down the high street, he sees what appears to be a costume store of sorts. There’s a suit jacket that Ralph rather likes the look of, but it’s paired with the most hideous colour combination. Looking around at the rest of the window display, he recognises the style of tasselled dress on the second mannequin with great familiarity, though something puzzles him about the display. There’s a board on it that specifically states, “Party like it’s 1922”, but these colours were not in season at all! What an amateur display of affairs. The only thing that remains true to that year are the trousers of the suit, but again, the top half is all wrong.

Ralph does spot something on the rack behind that looks like it would go well, though. And he’s strangely taking this display very personally. Once again working on autopilot, he marches into the store and promptly starts stripping down the suited mannequin. Finding a more appropriate shirt and tie to go along with the outfit he’s designing in his head, he starts muttering nonsensically to himself under his breath.

He doesn’t notice the store clerk, who’s been watching him with amazed confusion at the sheer audacity of his actions, creeping up to him until they ask, “Sir? Can I help you?”

“Oh, heavens!” Ralph yelps before letting a laugh bubble out from his lips. “Made me jump. No, thank you, I’m perfectly fine as I am!”

“…Right.” They slowly back away into a back room, out of Ralph’s perception. Not that he was watching, anyway, he’s on the lookout for a dress that complements his new suit layout far better.

Just as he’s pulling the dress over the mannequin’s head - blindly, as he has his head turned away from it and his eyes squeezed shut, for good measure - an older woman with a kindly face approaches him. “Hello there, love. Did my employee’s window display offend you, by any chance?” she asks in a Cockney accent.

“Oh!” Another yelp causes him to jump up on the spot. “You’re a sneaky pair, aren’t you! Yes, I’m terribly sorry, it’s awfully rude of me, but you see… The colour palette was all too wrong for the year 1922 anyway, and even then, nothing really complemented each other. I just thought this looked more cohesive, and… Honestly, I’ve no idea what came over me, the more I stand here the more of an utter fool I feel for being so inappropriate, I truly hope you can forgive me but I understand if you can’t, I shall leave immediately,” he hangs his head as he rambles, but the woman pats his arm.

“Chatty li’ul thing, int’cha?” She grins. “Name’s Florence, but don’t call me that, everyone calls me Babs. Always have since I were a kid.” She provides no further context, which Ralph tries not to dwell on as she continues, “Look, ’ere’s the fing, I ain’t the spring chicken I used to be, and I’ve been lookin’ for a fresh pair o’ hands. You seem to have an eye for this sorta fing. Fancy a job ’ere?”

Ralph’s eyes widen. “Oh, I, um, I can’t - I’m not… resgistered with any… Banks, you see,” he scrambles to think of a decent excuse, his eyes squeezing shut and his fingers curling in and stretching out.

Babs, however, screeches out a cackle. “Oh, ain’t you a - ’ere, in’t he a crack-up?” She asks the person behind the counter, who nods without looking up, with the air of someone very used to Babs’ personality. “You and me, darlin’, we’re one and the same. I don’t trust them toffs at the bank, neither! They want my money, they can prise it out me cold, dead hands! That’s why I pay cash in hand, sweed’art, all I ask is you show up a few days a week and I’ll pay ya for ’em. How’s that sound?”

A job with no ties to needing any sort of administration? Sounds too good to be true. But Ralph doesn’t care in this moment. “Oh, Ms. Babs, this really does solve such a gaping issue for me, you have no idea how indebted I am, thank you so very much,” he gushes as he shakes her hand enthusiastically.

She laughs, “Calm it, Kermit, I’ve already ’ad an ’ip replaced, I’d like to keep both me ’ands if I can ’elp it!” Ralph lets go as though she’s electrocuted him, which only makes her laugh more. “Go on, away wiv ya. See ya Monday, 9 sharp! We’ll talk shop more then. And you can drop that Ms malarkey, an’ all!”

Ralph smiles and bows at her, then at the other clerk, then at Babs again, who waves him away with a warm smile. Turning on his heel, Ralph’s filled with a confidence he’s never felt before as he strides back down the high street. Perhaps he could do it all. Perhaps he could even tell you how he truly feels about you.

Or, once the tower block comes into view, he could freeze up entirely at the thought. How presumptuous of him, to assume you’d reciprocate. Ralph would be lucky if you were to talk to him again after last night’s display. And what would he even say to you? Is it worth all of the mental energy to plan a whole monologue in advance, or would you simply repeat the other man’s actions, and slam the door in his face before he got the chance to say his piece?

Taking a deep breath in, squaring his shoulders and balling his fists up, he finally marches his way into the building, pressing the call button for the lift with such force that the arrow imprints in the pad of his thumb. As he’s waiting for it to come down, a familiar sound from behind him surprises him, as he turns to face whoever caused it.

~~~

Once you’re in your flat, wrestling both your bag and the suitcase into the lift with you and practically juggling them as you try to unlock your door, you take Ralph’s stuff and quickly throw it all into the bedroom, shutting the door and metaphorically shutting everything to do with Ralph in there. Except this had been his home for the last 3 months, so everything everywhere reminds you of him. Shaking your head, you go to your bag, throw everything that isn’t clothing out of it and take it out to the launderette with you. Keep out of the house, keep busy. Just until your mind stops swimming.

You watch your clothes spin around in the soapy water and wish you could do the same to your brain. What do you do with Ralph? Do you forgive him? Do you not? Do you seek his forgiveness? What if he doesn’t forgive you?

You’re still very sure that your anger was valid. But perhaps not all of it was justified. You’ve been putting an awful lot of emotional weight on the idea of Ralph. Imagining him as the perfect boyfriend, and then trying to see the worst in him to combat those feelings. That doesn’t sound like someone with a winning argument in the real world.

Something about not having the security of having Ralph safe at home has you feeling a sense of numbness. Time passes without you even noticing. You’re not doing anything to help it along. Just sitting, staring, pondering.

Once you’re back home, you check the time and frown. Based on the time Anna said she was leaving, she should have been back well before now. You text:

Panicking, you then text the group:

Pacing the flat, your mind races more than ever. What if he’s hurt? Or worse? Or what if H.P’s found him because the time machine’s finally working now? What if he’s just walking the streets because he doesn’t want to return home? What if he really is living with the vagrants? What if he’s just doing all of this to make you panic over him? Truly, anything’s possible. Truly. He’s even in your head, now.

You look out through your window, uselessly from this high up. You know your friends said that you should stay at the flat, and it makes sense, in case he does come back. But what if he doesn’t? What if he’s lost? What if you need to be out there?

No. You’re useless to him and to your friends if your mind’s frazzled. You try asking your Echo if it can play you some music before remembering that a certain someone rendered it useless to you. You try and flick through your TV options but none of them are a worthy distraction.

After some frantic cleaning, you swear you’re starting to hear voices. Who else would be talking out in the hallway? Could it be? But who would he be talking to?

You press your ear to the door and pure relief washes over you as you hear the sweet, familiar tone of a man born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Running to grab your phone, you hurriedly text them to call off the search before swinging the door open.

“- dunno how the fuck she even got out, let alone all the way down there."

"Must have been the stairs, though it would be rather humorous if she learned how to operate the lift all by herself, wouldn't it?" Ralph chortles. Fuck, you've missed the sound of his laugh, and it's only been a day.

"Alright, look who's here!" Your neighbour cheers as they see you. They're standing in their open doorway, while Ralph is in the hall cradling Cheese the cat. Quickly, while his eyes haven't met yours yet, you snap a picture of Ralph holding his feline friend to send as a quick update to the group.

When Ralph looks around to see you, his eyes immediately fill with delight, then remorse, then excitement, then dejection, finally settling on looking at you with intent to gauge your reaction. Your neighbour, oblivious, continues, "Literally, mate, I owe you so much for finding her. Name your price."

"Oh, nonsense, just knowing she's safe and home is reward enough for me," Ralph scratches her just beneath her jaw as he rocks her like a baby, to which she purrs loud enough for even you to hear. The same cat who you'd had to being out of hiding before by standing in the doorway and throwing ham into your neighbour's flat until she came out to eat it.

"Well, if you think of anything, you let me know. I just hope nobody told the big man that they saw a cat walking around when we're not meant to have them," your neighbour grimaces.

"Ahh, if I catch wind of any grasses, I'll sort them out," you smirk before turning to Ralph again. "Ready to go?"

Ralph's big doe eyes bore into yours as he nods, gently putting the cat down and then quickly making his way back into your flat.

"He's a good'un really, isn't he?" Your neighbour simpers.

Watching him go, your wistful smile remains even as you look back at your neighbour. "Yeah. Remember what I told you when you first met him? Harmless."

"Yeah, yeah. You would think that," they smile knowingly. Narrowing your eyes, confused, you simply wave them off and go back through your door

Ralph seems to have shut himself in your room. You feel as though he's probably got a reason why he wants to avoid you, and there's many a thing you don't want to hear from him, either. But you've felt a fraction of what it would be like to lose him and that alone was torturous. Every time you felt bad all day, you only wanted to talk to Ralph. Now that you finally have the opportunity to, you're not going to waste it. Just remember to rein it in.

You knock on the door. You step back. He opens it. You exchange similar looks of curiosity, but something about him being here and in front of you overpowers you and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in to hug him tightly. His arms snake around your sides, and you feel his hands splay out against your back and press into it. It’s a hug that says it all. It apologises and it forgives, a crossover of exchanges between you. He smells like coffee shops and second-hand smoke, but the familiar scent of Ralph still remains as you bury your face into him.

When he pulls away from you, it’s to hold you at arm’s length with a gleeful glint in his eye. “I’ve got some news for you.”

Your heart sinks. Surely, anything that’s good for him that’s happened over the course of today can’t be good for you. But you wouldn’t be a good friend if you weren’t supportive. So you put on a smile and ask, “Oh, yeah?”

“I’ve got a job!” he singsongs, skipping on the spot. You look at him incredulously, and he explains. “It’s a bespoke costume store, run by this… Rather eccentric character, and it pays cash in hand! So I can earn some money and pay you back!”

You rub your face. “Look, Ralph, when I said those things -”

“That was a justified cause for concern, and I wish to rectify it. I, myself, said things that I did mean and things that I didn’t. But I don’t think it’ll do us good to talk about that too much.”

“I don’t either,” you smile back. “I’m glad you’ve found something to keep you occupied. Though, what about when… You know… Lift’s back in service?”

Ralph pauses. Does he tell you that he's willing to take the risk and stay as long as he can? Would you trust Homeless Pete as a reliable source or would you assume Ralph was stupid for doing so? He feels far too fragile to have another argument. And so he simply shrugs, "Then I shall have to do some awful things very quickly to ensure I'd never be welcomed!"

You laugh loudly, "Ralph!" and he grins back at you.

"Oh, and before I take this coat off…" he starts, shoving his fists into his pockets.

"Ah, yeah, we can put that reel on the fridge!” You grin, but Ralph shakes his head.

“Well, yes, but also… Um, well, I had noticed that due to my incessant bothering, you’d, um, forgotten to actually pick out a stone from the beach,” Ralph starts.

You interrupt him with a groan, slapping your forehead with the heel of your hand. “Oh my god, I forgot my cool rock this year!”

“W-well, I went back earlier this morning - goodness, was it only this morning?” Ralph asks under his breath. “Anyway, um, I know this is… Probably… A very easy shape to mistake a rock to be, but I didn’t remember seeing it on the shelf and so…” You look down, and in the palm of Ralph’s hand sits a stone that’s in a near-perfect heart shape.

“Oh, Ralphie,” you gush, pressing your hand to your chest. Even after everything last night, he still went out of his way to find that for you. If he hadn’t clarified that it was merely an easy shape to find, you’d have questioned the nature of it specifically, but he had, so there’s no need to look deeper into it. You have your answer.

“Well, I just thought even though it might not have been worthy enough for you to have picked, you still get to keep your tradition this year,” he explains hurriedly. “I know it’s just a circle with a dent in it, but -”

“But it came from you, and it’s unique to the shelf, so it’s absolutely living there,” you insist, pushing his fingers to curl up around the smooth stone and holding his hand there for a few beats. Not wanting to linger too long, you snap back and clear your throat. “Why not put it on there, I’ll order us a takeaway, and we’ll find something trashy to put on, yeah?” Ralph nods meekly and you practically float over to the sofa, you’re that happy to just have your Ralph back, for however long that may be.

“Oh, hey, good news and bad-ish news on your front,” you shout to him in the other room. “Good news is, everyone seems to be over making their icons the photo of you flapping about microwaving the egg!”

He frowns as he pops back into view. “And the bad?”

You show him the sea of icons, all Ralph, all wearing a polo shirt, all stood behind the painting that hangs on the back wall, all with a rose in his mouth. “I think they’ve found your Tinder.”

Ralph groans as he approaches the sofa to sit down next to you, and you rest your head on his shoulder comfortingly. You don't feel the need to move it as you pick out a movie you think Ralph will like. "Here, this one's good," you point out. "It's another musical, you like those."

"I do!" Ralph lilts excitedly. "What's it all about?"

"Okay, so in the seventies, there was this insanely popular group of singers called ABBA..."

next chapter

#ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters x reader #ralph timewasters x you #ralph timewasters fanfic #ralph timewasters imagine #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x reader #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury fanfic #ralph penbury imagine #ralph timewasters fluff #ralph penbury fluff #bsbl #fic: bsbl #*myfics

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reigningqueenofwords · 4 months

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Sam's Old Shirt

Pairing: Sam x Reader Word count: 938

Read on AO3

Part 3 of When Did We Get a Kid?

Walking in the door, you had to stop yourself from slamming it. Your date had been one of the worst ones you had ever had. Including high school. Dropping your purse off on the little table right inside the door, you groaned. Greg was a great guy at work. Always polite, never too nosy, and did his work on time. Not only was he only like that professionally, but the man didn’t know how to dress.

“That doesn’t sound good.” You heard Sam say from the living room. Turning the corner, you sighed. He was on the far end of the couch, remote in hand. Not even bothering to change, you simply walked over to the couch and flopped down. Laying on your stomach, your head was resting on his lap. “Wanna talk about it?” He pulled the clip from your hair and set it aside. A moment later you felt his fingers running through your hair. You had even put effort into your look. Nothing over the top, it was just coffee. You’d picked out a peach skirt that went to your knees, a white fitted t-shirt, and a pair of cute flats. Seemed you wasted your time. That wasn’t including fighting with your hair clip.

You groaned. “No offense, but men are idiots.” You half teased.

Sam chuckled. “None taken.” He knew that you didn’t include him in that, and he also knew that some men were complete idiots. “What happened?”

Rolling to your back, you kicked off your shoes and looked at him making a face. “First of all, out side of the workplace? The man cannot dress.” You told him. “It looked like I was on a date with a very, very tall twelve year old…” He had to laugh at that, causing you to playfully slap his chest. “He kept checking out the barista, who I’m pretty sure is married, and didn’t even try to hide it. Made the worse slurping noises when drinking his coffee, which made me want to dump it on him, and he chewed his muffin with his mouth open.” You pretended to gag. He knew that was a pet peeve of yours. “Tried to order for me, and ugh. I don’t want to talk about that anymore. How was bed time with Connor?” That seemed to be a much better topic.

“It went pretty well.” He smiled.

“Yeah?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I have to wash a few towels now because he felt the need to pretend he was Shamu at Sea World…” You stifled a laugh at that. “Don’t worry, I made sure to get all the water.” He reassured you. “Then we played tag for ten minutes while I tried to get him into his pajamas.”

“You wear him down?” You teased.

“No, he wore me down.” Sam shook his head. “I played dead on the floor. When he came over to check, I tickled him.” That was something that you could easily picture. Sam and kids seemed to fit so well together. “After that, he ‘read’ me a book. I helped him brush his teeth, which, I didn’t realize that kids’ toothbrushes were that small.”

You chuckled. “Everything looks small compared to your hands, you giant.” Sitting up, you sighed.

“By then he was pretty tuckered out.” He shrugged. “Want to watch a movie? Get your mind off of what’s his face?”

Pretending to think for a moment, you smiled and nodded. “I’d love that. But first, I’m getting comfortable!” You rolled off the couch and got up. “I’m stealing a shirt, I hope ya know!” He laughed as you walked out of the room. Poking your head back in, you smirked. “I’m in the mood for a comedy. Find something funny!”

It didn’t take you long to change. You’d stolen one of his old college shirts as you told him you would, and then threw on a pair of shorts. Walking back out, you sat next to him on the couch. “I put in Dumb and Dumber.” He told you, earning a look.

“I said funny, not stupid!” You teased, poking him. However, when he actually pressed play, it wasn’t Dumb and Dumber. It was one of your favorites- one that both of you could quote no problem. Bruce Almighty. Grabbing a throw pillow, you tossed it on his arm. “You’re lucky you’re adorable.” You said, laying your head on the pillow. He shook his head and reached over to shut off the lamp.

Sometime during the movie, you had fallen asleep. He simply covered you up and let you stay where you were. Once everything was shut off, he moved through the apartment. Sam checked on Connor to see him fast asleep before heading into your room and going to bed.

Neither of you heard Connor get up in the middle of the night. You didn’t even feel him join you on the couch. However, that’s how Sam found you the next morning. You were facing the back of the couch, arm around Connor, him curling against your chest. Smiling, he quietly moved back to his room to grab his phone. He wanted to remember this- how cute you looked curled up with a kid. He doubted it was something he’d see often, after all.

After he snapped a couple pictures, he moved to the kitchen to throw together some breakfast. Dean was supposed to be there in a few hours, so he wanted to at least get some quiet time in. Dean didn’t have kids yet, but he was pretty good with them. However, if you asked him, he’d deny it.

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felicitysmoaksx · 6 months

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Hi, everyone. Thanks so much for reading! I had a plan for this chapter, it was going to be about 5k in total, but the characters had other plans so this is being split into two parts once again! Happy reading! Song recs are: The Little Things by Kelsea Ballerini, The Other POV by Khloe Rose, and Kill Ur Vibe by All Time Low

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI 18+)

Summary: Sarah returns to work following her injury and Justin's death. (Did she also mention that she was four months pregnant and had also 'popped' overnight?

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: implied Sexual Content, inaccurate therapy session, unplanned pregnancy, inaccurate pregnancy depictions, and some slight survivor guilt

Read On AO3 | Fic Playlist | Fic Playlist but Less Shippy | Want to be tagged when I post a Rheese story?

Sometimes Sarah wondered how she got here. She thought, staring at her raven-haired boyfriend. With this wonderful man, who probably should’ve run away from her a long time ago, but instead stayed by her side like he was superglue. This man was arguably the sexiest man she had ever seen, but not only that…Connor was kind. Connor was protective and admittedly, could be a bit of a mother hen. But it was only because he cared, deeply. He cared about everything. From his patients to his friends and family and for some reason he cared and loved her.

So yeah, sometimes Sarah thought about how she got here and how different everything was in her life. Especially the biggest change to come…Her hand moved without thought, resting over her still flat stomach. Only…it wasn’t still flat.

Getting out of bed, she crossed the room to stand in front of the mirror and saw that her stomach now had a small swell to it. According to all the books, she had finally popped. Honestly, they made it sound like she was a piece of popcorn. She thought to herself, turning and running her hand over the small swell of her stomach. Even though the shirt was oversized, there was no denying she was pregnant now. Before, it had just looked like she had put on some extra weight.

A muffled noise came from the bed. Then the man in the bed turned. She watched, struggling not to laugh as Connor stretched out a hand to find her. And when he didn’t find her his sleepy, “Babe?”

“Over here,” she called softly. Connor shifted to sit up with one hand rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Another nightmare-” He yawned but stopped short when he caught sight of her, of her stomach His eyes widened a little, “Oh, wow.”

“I know,” Sarah swept another hand across her boulder-like stomach. Her boyfriend moved so he stood right behind her, arms wrapped around her waist. His hands were covering her own. She nuzzled her face into his neck. His lips pressed to the side of her forehead.

“Guess the cat will be out of the bag now,” Sarah said in a quiet voice. Connor hummed in agreement. It wasn’t like they had been trying to keep it a secret. But in the grand scheme of things, between Justin passing, Sarah seeing Dr. Richardson again at Hank’s request, and everything else in between with Sarah’s recovery, telling people that they were expecting wasn’t the first thing on their minds. Besides, it was nice having something to themselves for a little while.

“Are you sure you’re ready to come back? It’s not too late to change your mind. You could take another week,” he mused quietly, squeezing her more to him.

“I’m going stir crazy enough as it is,” Sarah shook her head at the suggestion. “Hank and Erin are already back at work and besides that, working will provide me with some stability. And I should go back now because, in another five months, I’ll be out for maternity leave.”

Connor bit his tongue. Because they both knew it didn’t quite work like that. Grief didn’t work like that. But he didn’t tell his girlfriend that. Instead, he told her carefully, “I just don’t want you to push yourself to do too much too soon.”

“And you think another week will fix that?” Sarah asked, pulling her face out of his neck.

“I think another week would help you mentally prepare for helping people dealing with their most difficult times after you had been through something so traumatic yourself,” Connor ducked his head down to kiss her neck. His lips were so careful around the still-healing scar of her bullet wound. Though Ava had deemed it healed enough that it didn’t need a bandage on it anymore.

That was a difficult conversation to have. Sarah felt insecure when she looked at the scar. The deep cavernous indentation that wasn’t quite a hole anymore but it certainly wasn’t gone either. It wasn’t attractive, the brunette knew that. Adding that to the scarring she had on her back from her burns and then Connor treating her as if she were glass just waiting to break didn’t help matters either.

Dr. Richardson noticed a day when her insecurities were getting the best of her and when the brunette confessed what was wrong, encouraged her to do two things: put something that made her feel attractive and then have an honest conversation with him about it.

[LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“What is bothering you most about approaching Connor with this?” The older woman posed the question to Sarah. The brunette shrugged, “I guess the unknown variable. What if I’m right and he does find me unattractive because of my scars both seen and unseen but he doesn’t feel like he can leave me right now because of everything that’s happened? Or ever because I’m having his child and he’s forever tied to me because of it?”

“This is the first time you’ve mentioned your pregnancy outside of our first appointment since you’ve started back seeing me again. But we can circle back to that.” The psychiatrist made a note, “And if that happens, if you’re right. What then?”

“Then I’ll have to be the one to walk away and I’m…Connor is a good man. He’s the best relationship I’ve ever had in my time as an adult. I love him. I don’t want to walk away. But what if that isn’t enough anymore? What if this is all too much for him but he can’t say it because of everything that’s happened to me? Or because of our baby?”

Dr. Richardson made another note before noticing the time on the clock on the wall behind Sarah. “Okay, we need to find a stopping point. So I want to leave it here and encourage you to talk to Connor about what you’re feeling. You’ve told me he’s honest, kind, and a good man. So be honest with him and see where that leads you, Sarah. Because sooner or later, you’ll have to know and we’ll discuss it next week.”

[LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Looking back at it now, Sarah thought she could have handled the conversation better than just blurting out, “You don’t find me attractive anymore, do you?”

And watching her boyfriend look so dumbfounded at her words. She’ll never forget the look on his face as she continued, “I mean, I know I wasn’t much before everything happened, but I’m not attractive anymore am I?”

Then he proved just how wrong she was in her thinking. But that was a story for another time. She didn’t want to think about that right now. Instead, she wanted…

“Love me,” she moaned quietly as she leaned into his touch. Connor captured her lips in response, pulling her back to the bed.

“How is it today?” Her boyfriend asked quietly while they were basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

[LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“Sarah, you’re a psychiatrist.” Dr. Richardson reminded her during a session when the curly-haired brunette admitted to feeling guilty because she felt normal one day because it felt like she was moving on way too soon from Justin’s death, “If you were to have a patient tell you this, what would be your response?”

“Grief is something that rapidly changes from day to day,”

“Exactly. Grief isn’t linear. Some days you’ll wake up, and getting out of bed will be a struggle. Some days you’ll wake up and be angry or sad. Sometimes you’ll wake up like today and be perfectly fine.” The woman nodded, agreeing, “You need to treat yourself with care, Sarah. Grief will never completely go away, but don’t feel guilty for the good days you do have.”

[LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“It’s there, but it doesn’t hurt as much today,” Sarah told him quietly, pressing a kiss to the permanent love bite she left on his shoulder.

“If that changes?” Connor ran a hand down her back. Another kiss was placed on his shoulder, “You’ll be one of the first ones I tell…What if none of my clothes fit? I haven't had a chance to get maternity clothes yet. They must’ve known I was going back today.”

“Or they knew we’re going to be checking in on them with the ultrasound today,” her boyfriend grinned, patting her newly swollen stomach softly.

“I might be on the early side of showing, but the book’s and Dr. Grant both say the baby won’t be kicking for another few months: until I’m at least six months or later considering this is my first pregnancy…and what?”

“What?”

“You have this weird grin on your face. Why?” Why? He was probably reading too much into her words; no he definitely knew he was reading too much into her words. But she had said first pregnancy and that had conjured images of them…with a sibling for this child. But Connor didn’t want to freak her out because they hadn’t even had this baby yet. So he ran a hand through her curls as he said, “I’m just happy.”

[LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“Have you thought any more about moving in with me?” Connor prodded in the elevator while they were on the way down to the parking garage. He had floated the question last week during dinner one night. And it was logical, they were about to be tied together forever by their baby. And yet…Sarah didn’t want to move in just because it was smart and made sense.

And hadn’t they seen this film before? Connor moving in with his broken and recovering girlfriend and it blowing up in their faces? All of it was starting to feel too similar. (There was that secondhand deja vu again.)

“Or we can find a different apartment if the idea of moving into my space is what’s bothering you.” Sarah shot him a look and her boyfriend shrugged with a smirk.

“I can see the gears turning in your head,”

“I don’t want to move in together just because we’re having a baby. That’s about as dated as getting married because we’re having a baby out of wedlock.” She told him before pausing. Then the brunette turned sharply to her boyfriend, wagging her finger at him. “Don’t you even dare think about proposing to me right now, Connor Rhodes. I will say no.”

“So wait nine months after the kid is born, got it.” He snorted and when she shot him another pointed look; it turned into a full-blown laugh as the elevator opened with a ding to the parking garage.

“You’re ridiculous, but more like twelve months,” Sarah rolled her eyes fondly before he opened the door to his car for her. He leaned in to peck her lips. “But I’m yours and you love me.”

“Why do you want to move in with me? Outside of the practical reasons because of our baby?” She asked after he pulled out of the garage and they were cruising down the road. The hand he had on her thigh flexed. They stopped at a red light and he glanced at her. His blue eyes were practically shimmering.

“The baby is the main reason I want this sooner than later. But I’d like to think we were always headed towards this. Because you said it yourself a few months ago. You spend five nights out of the week at my place. More often than not though, you don’t even go back to your apartment. Over half of your stuff is at my place by now. So why are you paying thirteen hundred dollars a month for a place, that doesn’t even have an elevator and you spend maybe a week at? Each month?”

“So you always saw us living together?”

“I always thought that’s what we’re working towards.” Connor shrugged at her question while they started moving again. His hand flexed again as his thumb started rubbing circles into her skin. Such a possessive action. It was something Sarah never found attractive in a man before, but the difference between her exes and Connor? Connor was possessive in private, unless provoked. (She had seen this firsthand because Joey liked to test this boundary and her boyfriend was quick to put him in his place.) Like the love bites on her body, his possessive actions were for them, only.

“But I’ve thought this was a relationship sooner than you did,” he said, pulling Sarah out of her thoughts.

“Huh?”

“We weren’t on the same page until we were four months in,” Connor explained, “I thought we were a couple sooner than you did. So I think I’m a little quicker to jump for this because of that.”

“When did you start to think of this as a relationship?”

“I-“ he hesitated and Sarah was pleasantly amused to see a flush crawling up her calm, cool, and collective boyfriend’s neck. “I’m not sure I want to tell you that because it’ll come out in a weird way.”

She just grinned at him. Then she laid her hand over his resting on her thigh. Connor sighed.

“The day you called me Dr. Rhodes in bed for the first time.” He muttered as he maneuvered his way into the other lane. The brunette felt her mouth drop open, a laugh bubbling its way off of her lips.

“So many things to unpack here,” Sarah started, still laughing even as Connor pinched her thigh lightly. “But we had only been sleeping together for about two weeks at that point.”

“Yeah, so?”

…So he had only been broken up from Robin for about two months? Or was it three? She couldn’t remember…and why did her brain keep circling back to his and Robin’s relationship? Why did she keep comparing them?

“I also think that’s the first time you rode me too,” Connor commented and Sarah whipped her head to face him, but her boyfriend was staring at the road.

Sarah felt her cheeks heating as she said, “Connor, you can’t just say that!”

A red light caught them again. They were nearing the hospital now. Her boyfriend faced her, a wicked gleam in his blue eyes. His rapidly darkening blue eyes-the way they did when they had sex. She shivered.

“Why? We’re the only ones in the car and you were thinking way too much and I needed to get you out of your head somehow. Since we’re in the car, I’m limited as to what I can do…” His hand moved a little higher up her thigh.

“Because I think the last time you talked dirty to me,” she started trying to ground him back to reality, the brunette grabbed the hand on her thigh and placed it on her swollen stomach, “This happened.”

“You act like I’m afraid to put another baby in you,” he pecked her lips quickly, before he went back to driving, “I’m not.” (If only they knew…)

“Connor,” she sputtered, while they pulled into the hospital parking lot and waited in line for a valet to come and take his car. Her boyfriend kissed her again, this one their tongue met but it was fleeting.

“It’s true,” Connor muttered against her lips, before he leaned his forehead against hers. “You know how proud I am of you, baby?”

“I haven’t done anything yet,”

“I’m still proud of you for trying.” Connor reiterated firmly with another kiss on her forehead. “And if it doesn’t work out coming back this soon, you know that’s okay too.”

(If only Sarah knew it wasn’t going to be a good day, but not for the reason everyone thought.)

#chicago med #one chicago #rheese #connor rhodes #sarah reese #my writing

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connorsjorts · 1 year

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thank you for tagging me @sweeteatercat and @rk800-is-hot-change-my-mind !

no bingo for me :(

because i enjoy reading people's comments on these things:

does it count as unbeta’d if only like 25% of it got a second look? mall santa was the first thing I ever finished and was too scared for anyone to read it before posting so mr jorts beta’d the first chapter for me but he was nervous about the smut so didn’t go any further lol (oh my sweet summer child. he has read everything i’ve written since)

literally everything i’ve ever written is self-indulgent

i don’t love researching, but i do it. i have learned more about mall santas than i ever wanted to know

outlining makes things harder for me (hence my struggles with my bb fic ladkja.) i like to discover the story as i go along. but i do plan out the character arcs beforehand to keep myself on track

people who draw fanart for fics are angels who walk among us and i owe them my life

in addition to my bb fic I have 12k of an eventually 75k human!connor/human!hank/HK800 fic written that i genuinely really love 😭 i am determined to finish it someday. yes hank jerks off in his car in this one too

i edit as i go, so it’s relatively painless for me

i am baffled that any of my fics have gotten any attention at all

i use the words “professional writer” extremely loosely. i know from experience that i hate making art for money but also this is the only thing I’m good at. i do know i want to spend my life telling stories

thanks for reading my babbles! idk who’s done this already so if you want to do it consider yourself tagged 💖✨

template under the cut

#sorry to be a million years late posting this

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rhinozilla · 1 year

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Last Line Tag Game

Tagged by @silver-dream89

Rules: Make a new post, post the latest line from your current WIP, & tag as many people as there are words

I am incapable of posting just the last line of my WIPs, so here’s a small teaser for the next chapter of Brotherhood instead XD I’m also lazy when it comes to tagging people, so if you want to participate in this, consider yourself tagged!

–

Hank had worked with Connor almost exclusively since the revolution. He hadn’t realized how accustomed he’d gotten to the pattern of Connor’s movements, the routine of his crime scene walk-throughs, and his meticulous assessments of what he was looking at. Gavin’s more human wandering and scanning looked downright chaotic comparatively, even though Hank knew Gavin had his own method. He’d just refused to work with Gavin long enough to get used to it.

Now…Well, fuck, now Hank had all-too-fresh memories of Gavin nearly dying under his hands, struggling to remain conscious and choke out some final words. That awful noise he’d made when Hank and Penny had rigged a pressure bandage around the bullet wound in his gut to try and slow the bleeding on her office floor. The sticky film of his blood on Hank’s hands. The phantom feeling of it that had lingered through several harsh scrubs. The gauntness of him in that hospital bed for days afterward.

Maybe it was better late than never, but Hank had found himself coming up with excuses to be around the guy more lately.

#detroit 07

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sheerfreesia007 · 2 years

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Webhead Chronicles #28

Title: Webhead Chronicles #28

Fandom: The Amazing Spiderman

Pairing: tasm!peter parker x ofc!

Author: @sheerfreesia007

Words: 2,281

Warnings: Injury, wound care, kissing

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo, @athalien

Author Notes: These two idiots finally figured it out! Woohoo!

Gif Credit: @rebeatros

Ev was lounging on her bed reading the last chapter in the book that her English teacher had assigned for their book essay that was due next week. She was writing down notes of passages that she wanted to reference in her essay when she heard the familiar thump on her roof. Darting her eyes over to her window she spotted a panting Peter and gestured for him to come in without moving from the bed. The sound of the window opening slowly filled her ears as she grabbed her highlighter and marked off another paragraph that she thought would work well in her essay.

She didn’t bother looking up until she heard the loud thump on her floor which was abnormal for Peter, he normally was quieter than that when he came into her room for fear of her mom hearing him. Looking up from her book she noticed Peter looking more beat up then normal and she was quickly rushing off her bed.

“Hey, hey. Pete, you okay? Holy shit, what happened?” Ev rushed out as she helped him up from the floor where he was leaning up against the wall under her window. He groaned loudly when he stood with Ev’s help as the cuts on his chest opened up again. Hissing softly he moved with Ev to her bed where she eased him down as gently as she possibly could before turning to the fanny pack that held all of her medical supplies.

“You and that damned fanny pack.” he teased her and Ev shot him a glare as she sat on the bed next to his hip before darting her eyes up and down his body.

“This fanny pack is going to save your life one of these days.” she snapped back at him before worry filled her face as her eyes darted around his body. “What happened?” she asked in awe of what she saw before her.

“Remember my texts before that you were half right about Connors?” Peter asked softly as he shifted on her bed and moved himself up towards the headboard. Ev followed him on the bed and sat on the edge near his hip as she began pulling out everything she would need to clean him up.

“Yeah, that you went to go see him and ask about how to track the lizard mutant.” she said distractedly as she nodded her head while digging through the fanny pack.

“Well, it’s Connors who’s the lizard mutant.” Peter said softly and Ev shot her head up to stare at him wide eyed. Peter nodded his head before grimacing as he shifted on her pillows to get a better position. Ev instantly stood and began arranging the pillows so that they supported him better and kept him in a reclined position. She also reached behind his neck and pulled the zipper down on his suit so that she could gently pull it down his torso to reveal the large ugly looking scratches that Dr. Connors had given to him during their fight.

“So wait, I thought you said the formula was successful?” Ev questioned softly as she furrowed her brow at him.

“Yeah I’m not exactly sure what happened yet but Connors is using lizard DNA in the formula for the regenerative properties and somehow it’s transformed him into a lizard mutant. He’s able to call actual lizards to help him too and he’s now got his hand back but he’s in full lizard form.” Peter began to explain as Ev pulled out the hydrogen peroxide and a washcloth. Peter hisses loudly at her as she begins to clean his wounds with the peroxide and she shushes him gently. “A little warning next time maybe Ev.” he snips out at her and she glares at him incredulously.

“Like it’d do you any good.” She snaps back at him and Peter realizes that Ev is mad at him now. “Why did you go looking for Connors by yourself?” she asks him suddenly and Peter realizes why she’s mad.

“I couldn’t take you. You don’t have powers to protect yourself. And I did keep you up to date on what was going on until right before the fight.” he argues with her as if she was stupid and Ev glares at him heatedly.

“You were reckless, yet again.” she stresses to him and Peter rolls his eyes at her. “You should’ve waited, I could’ve been there close by to help you.”

“Ev, Connors is a giant lizard! If you get involved he could seriously hurt you! I won’t let that happen. Besides I went and saw Gwen’s Dad at the station and warned him about Connors.” Peter explained to her. “I did everything that I could to get help about Dr. Connors.”

“You could’ve waited and planned a strategy to confront Connors!” Ev insisted firmly and Peter shook his head.

“I saw the lizards all heading toward the sewers as if they were being called and followed them. I couldn’t wait.” he said while shaking his head at her. “Besides if I would’ve called anyone it would’ve been Gwen since I was closer to her place-” he explained and was cut off short by Ev’s wide angry eyes that stared at him. Peter noticed the look of hurt underneath all the anger sparkling in her eyes and realized that he’d never seen Ev look like that at him. He instantly stopped talking and had the urge to try to make things better for her. He never wanted to hurt her and by the looks of it he had hurt her. Now he only wanted to take that pain away from her.

“Then maybe you should be at Gwen’s house getting cleaned up since she’s your go to nowadays.” she snipped at him and Peter stared at Ev with wide eyes as he recognized her anger and hurt. “Gwen’s just absolutely perfect for you isn’t she? She’s pretty, smart and probably could do a better job at cleaning up your wounds. Why’d you come back to me if she’s the one you would’ve gone to?” She snapped like any angry viper at him as she continued to clean his wounds with angry swipes of the cloth making Peter grimace in slight pain. Peter felt his heart thud in his chest as he heard the hurt in her voice when she snapped at him, he had done that to her and he felt horrible for it.

For Peter it was like a lightbulb had gone off in his head, Ev was insecure about Gwen, all those times that the two of them had those silent conversations between themselves. That was Ev expressing her insecurity when Gwen was around him. She thought Peter had feelings for Gwen and thought Gwen was better than her. Shaking his head gently he smirked softly, if only she knew how Peter felt about her and how deep his feelings actually went for her. Peter’s eyes widened comically and he knew this was the perfect time to confess to her and be able to wipe away all of her insecurities in one shot.

Lunging forward Peter cupped Ev’s face on either side to pull her into him as he tilted his head and slotted his lips against hers. Ev squeaked in surprise as her hands pressed on his chest before she melted into the kiss and responded with all the pent up passion she held for him. Peter hummed softly as he felt her lips match his movements while she poured all the love she felt for him into the kiss. The kiss was nothing he had ever dreamed of with her, it was as if he had just walked into a home filled with warmth and light. The created the feeling of familiarity to course through him, like he was meant to be kissing Ev ever since he’d known her. A warmth blossomed in his chest and surrounded his rapidly beating heart making him feel as if he had become a furnace. His toes tingle with the same warmth in his chest and he felt as if he had just got cozy on the couch, all from a kiss that was way overdue between them. He pulled back when his brain began to fog over due to lack of oxygen.

The two of them panted together as Peter only moved inches away from her face so that he could eventually speak what was in his mind. He didn’t want to be too far from her as her lips called him to tangle with his once again. He wanted to keep kissing her until he had no breath left in his lungs but his brain and heart were screaming in unison at him to confess to her how he felt about her.

“You’re the one who’s perfect for me Ev. I’m in love with you, not Gwen. I love you. Don’t you forget that. You are not less than anyone else in this world. As a matter of fact you are my world, you’re the one I can’t picture not in my life right beside me.” he confessed to her breathily as he stared into her wide eyes. She nods her head at his words before she presses a soft gentle kiss to his lips making him hum softly at her actions.

“I love you too Peter.” she whispered against his lips and Peter smiled widely at her. He felt her lips press firmly against his and he hummed softly as he let himself fall into the kiss. The warmth crept along his body once more and he found himself melting against her bed as she leaned into him more as the kiss progressed. “You’re it for me webhead, I don’t see myself with anyone else by my side besides you.” she confessed to him. “I’ve felt like this since middle school, when we skipped that stupid school dance together.” she confessed and Peter chuckled against her lips.

“Best decision of our lives.” he whispered to her and she grinned widely against his lips.

“I am so in love with you.” she whispered to him and Peter smirked at her before cupping her cheek and pulling her into him for another kiss.

“Good because I’m so in love with you. Now, you’re never getting rid of me.” he teased her and she burst out into happy laughter that made Peter’s heart race with happiness. He shifted on the bed and Ev grumbled slightly before leaning away from him and disconnecting the kiss. Peter shook his head and began pulling her back in but she resisted him gently.

“C’mon webhead let’s get you changed into normal clothes and then we can kiss some more.” she promised him and Peter reluctantly agreed with her words. He stood from the bed and began sliding the rest of his suit down his body. “Wait! Wait Pete! Let me get outta the room first.” Ev began to say in a panic as she began to scramble off the bed. Peter with his suit down at his ankles and wearing only his boxer briefs turned to face her and smirked. Ev had one foot on the floor while the other was still kneeling on the bed as she was trying to get off while staring at him with wide eyes that darted up and down his body. Leaning towards her Peter couldn’t help himself teasing her.

“Why Ev? We’re together now, you get to see me like this all the time now. Whenever you want.” he told her in a low voice full of desire as he watched her pupils dilate with his words. Her mouth hung open slightly as she processed his words and her eyes darted up and down his practically naked body.

“We’re together now?” she asked dazedly and Peter smirked at how confused and distracted she was. He leaned forward again and pressed his mouth to hers, distracting her further.

“Be my girlfriend Ev. Unless you don’t want to.” he said in a slightly dejected voice once he pulled away from her mouth.

“No, no I want that. I want that.” she gasped out in a rush and Peter grinned widely. “Damn webhead didn’t peg you as a tease like this.” she snipped out sarcastically and Peter smirked at her before kissing her deeply one more.

“Don’t worry Ev. We’re gonna figure this all out together. Slowly.” he teased her as he moved back from her mouth slowly making her chase him until she whimpered softly. Peter grinned widely again when he felt her hands grip his side and pull him closer to her.

Just as Peter was going to push Ev back on the bed they both heard a loud thump and a loud grumble in the house. Pulling away from Ev he sighed softly at being stopped by her Mom but relented when Ev moved around him and grabbed the clothes that he kept here at her house. He easily slipped them on and Ev averted her eyes for his privacy. Once he was done Peter stood before her and reached up to cup her face tilting it back so that she was staring up at him with her mouth so close to his. He stared into her eyes with love shining through his own before he leaned down and captured her mouth with his. They stayed like that for awhile before Ev tugged him over to her bed and crawled in with him following quickly. There they laid with each other sharing the small space and loving kisses between each other. Peter couldn’t have planned a better confession to her if he tried.

#my writing #marvel #the amazing spiderman #tasm!peter parker x ofc #tasm!peter parker #webhead chronicles

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jokerownsmysoul · 2 years

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Thank you v much @connor-roys for the tag 💙🌺 sorry if it took me so long! 🙈🩵

Last song: Help yourself to me, Madrugada

Last show: Emily in Paris

Last movie: Glass Onion

Currently watching: Fringe. If I’ll find out how to stop sobbing during every single episode I would like to finish This is Us once and for all 😂

Currently reading: besides the poetry collections I read on the daily, I'm reading the novel Written on the body by Jeanette Winterson. It’s been in my to read list since I was 14 so I hope it’ll be up to my expectations 💓 and I cannot wait for The Waves by Virginia Woolf to be delivered!! 🥺 it may be classic to say, but I really want to try reading more novels this year, at least more than the past year for sure, which wasn't very fruitful. starting from the ones that have been in my to read list for ages. 🙈

Current obsession: I’m not sure if I have one right now? 😂 I think it's simply to be with who & to do what makes me feel content with my life. I've been very determined lately to learn how to take care of myself the way I need, which isn't something usually I'm very good at. Learning to let go of the things that hurt me even when it's hard, to cultivate what brings me joy and the bonds that make me feel happy, to nurture self love and self respect and take care of my heart. I also went back to gym, which kinda started it all, and I hope it’ll become soon a obsession (but a healthy one! 😂) like it used to be before life™️ forced me to quit 🩵

#tag list

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misaverawrites · 2 years

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To Be Human (Connor RK800 x Reader)

tags: deviancy case 2038, reader gets shot, injuries, mild kissing, tender romance, soft vibes, protective connor, hank is like a dad to you, surgery, hospitals, crushes

summary: You're assigned to the deviancy case with Hank and Connor, he just had to be cute.

a/n: love him sm, he's like my ultimate early high school fave also I hit 900 followers yesterday so thank you all!!

Why did he have to be cute?

Stupid Cyberlife and their stupid cute new android at the precinct. Connor or the RK800 Model had been working with Hank for a while on the Deviants case. Which you had now been assigned to as well.

“Kid! Let’s go,” Hank says, “Another fuckin’ android killed its owner.” You nod, grabbing your bag, and after Hank, only to bump into Connor and fall to the ground, Connor stops, taking your hand into his and pulling you upwards. “I apologize, Sergeant (L/N), are you alright?” You feel your brain practically malfunction for a second, his hands were so warm and you couldn’t help but think about how his hands would feel- You clear your throat and simply nod. “Y-Yeah! Thank you, Connor. Now we should get going; Hank is waiting for us.” You both speedwalk side by side, it’s quiet, a bit frenzied, mostly on your part but Connor’s mere presence is comforting to you. You step outside, it's pouring rain, hitting your back with thick drops as you run with Connor, who shields you a bit as you make your way into Hank’s car.

“You two took long enough.” Hank simply says as you both buckle into the back of his car, you stew a bit in your feelings, looking over at Connor who shakes his head, “I’m sorry, Lieutenant.” You echo Connor’s sentiment, staring out the window, just to avoid everything else. “You two are… You’re fine.” Hank looks at the two of you in the mirror for just a second before focusing his attention back on driving, he’s got something on his mind, the tension inside of the mid-sized car is palpable. You could slice through it with a knife.

Suddenly, before you know it, the car ride which had felt like hours long stops. You open the door, and everyone steps out of the car wordlessly into the heavy rain. You can only bring yourself to look at Connor for just a moment. His eyes are trained on you, carefully, but he tries to avert them when you look at him. You offer him a smile, it’s awkward but manageable.

You step onto the crime scene, typical fare, the smell of gunpowder lies heavy in the air. This was recent and the deviant is still around. You look over to the officer in charge of the crime scene, “Has anyone checked upstairs?” He nods, “Only a brief sweep though, be careful.” You nod, “Hank, stay here, you too, Connor.” Connor shakes his head, “I cannot allow you and the Lieutenant to both make bad decisions. I will come with you.” You smile amusedly and Hank shrugs his shoulders, “You need him more than I do, be careful, kid.” You nod and begin to silently creep up the stairs. Connor’s a few steps behind, quiet as well, the chatter from below the both of you silences as you reach the upstairs portion of the house, mostly unknown territory. “Seargent, I wanted to apologize, just in case I may have made you-.” You shush Connor, you hear footsteps in the room over. “Hello?!” You call out, you reach the room and while you don’t see anything, you are standing only in the doorway.

“Is anyone in here?” You ask, not expecting much of an answer. “Come out with your hands raised, and we won’t hurt you.” There’s shifting from under the bed and you feel panic bubble into your throat, you reach for your gun but suddenly, you feel a sharp pain shoot through your thigh, ringing in your ears, and you’re on the ground.

“Get off of me!” You only partially hear the commotion going on, the shot ringing through your brain, and you feel the weight shift on the wooden floor, Hank standing over you, and then pressing against the wound on your thigh. You whine at the pain, and then you see Connor, his hand on your wrist, monitoring your pulse, “You’ll be alright, Sergeant, just… look at me.” He sounds panicked, and you decide that must mean you’re screwed.

“Connor, don’t let me die, please…” It’s quiet, almost just a whimper from your lips but he shakes his head, his free hand is on yours. “You’re going to be alright, Sergeant, I won’t let you die.” The EMS arrive quickly after and even as you’re taken to the ambulance, Connor’s hand never leaves yours. “Lieutenant, please.” You hear Connor plead with Hank, “Keep ‘er safe, got it?” You hear Hank relent and it warms your heart, he’d been like a father to you and you’d certainly remember this moment.

You look over to see Connor, running his hand through your hair. His shirt is bloody and his tie isn’t there anymore, it’s wrapped around your thigh as a tourniquet. “Thank you, Connor…” You croak out, your throat is dry. “I retrieved the deviant, I am only disappointed you fell into harm’s way for me to get them.” You shake your head, “It’s… not the deviant’s fault, Connor. He was scared.”

The doors of the ambulance open and you’re lifted down out of the ambulance, Connor’s staring at you, he looks anxious, nothing like the android he’s supposed to be and you appreciate it. He follows after at a distance, and you watch as he has to be told not to follow you into surgery, all of his rationales were gone.

When you wake up, he’s still there. Quiet, oozing anxiety. “I’m alright, Connor… You’re too worried.” He shakes his head and threads a finger through your hair, moving your hair behind your ear. “I’m worried, (Y/N)... I may be a… a deviant!” He whispers his confession, ashamedly but you shake your head, “That’s okay, Connor. You need to know that is okay. You’ll be okay if you’re deviant.” He shakes his head, “I don’t want them to shut me down… To take me apart and wipe me. I don’t want to lose those… those memories of you and living.”

You smile, it’s weak but it’s there, “You’ll be okay, Hank and I will be there to keep you safe, from Gavin, from Cyberlife, from the whole damn world.” He looks as though he may overheat, so he simply presses his lips against your forehead.

“I was afraid you’d die, (Y/N)... You’d die and I’d never tell you how I felt about you.” You feel like you’re about to vomit and you’re not sure if it’s the confession or the anesthesia wearing off but, you fight through your nausea. “How do you feel about me? Connor?” He looks guilty, “I think… You’re very aesthetically pleasing to me and I would like to… I’d really like to take you somewhere that you’d enjoy.”

The confession, though a bit teetering and nervous, is one that you’d been hoping for. You stare at Connor, who looks hopeful and scared, “Connor, come here.” You say and he listens, the look on his face is the definition of nerves, and you simply pat the bed, signaling him to lie down next to you. He sits, his arms wrapping around your torso, careful to avoid your thigh wound, “Connor… I find you aesthetically pleasing as well.” You tease him, as he chuckles nervously, playing with your hair. You could get used to this.

#connor dbh #dbh connor #connor x reader #connor detroit: bh #connor rk800 #rk800 #dbh #fanfiction #x reader #fanfic #detroit become human #quantic dream #dbh fanfic #dbh rk800

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mackenzielovee · 2 years

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parenthood part six: new beginnings

a/n: connor cameron goes to preschool :( i've been writing these two for a few days now and have a lot of content for you guys so be ready! hope you enjoy <3

warnings: swearing, intoxication, slight mentions of anxiety, crying

ambivalence masterlist , parenthood masterlist

Monday means Rafe’s day working from home and your day working in the office. Monday means you get a break, in a sense, but wind up missing your babies by noon. Monday also means the day Maddie calls you and says she’s feeling too claustrophobic and needs a night out, asking you and Sarah to tag along with her to the bars on Friday night. She says she’s told Kelce he’s staying home with Noah, and then adds on the idea that Kelce and Noah could join Rafe and the kids for a night in while you all go out.

You’re hesitant, not wanting to put all of that on Rafe if he’s not okay with it. You tell her you’ll talk to him and she agrees with only minimal groaning.

Which is how you find yourself entering the house with a big smile, ready to butter Rafe up and talk him into it if need be. Rafe is standing at the island with his back to the garage door when you enter, Josie sitting in her baby base on the counter. He turns and grins when he sees you, quick to step over and wrap you up.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he greets you, giving you a quick peck.

“Hi,” you reply with a smile, “How was your day?”

“It was great,” he says, “Little Miss was great about eating. Connor, not so much. He had four chicken nuggets and then ran away from the table.”

You laugh, “He’ll be hungry for dinner, then.”

“Yeah,” Rafe agrees, “He’s playing on my phone in the living room. I’m sure he’ll wander in eventually.”

You step over to Josie and greet her with a wide smile, giving her a few kisses before pulling back and watching her smile. Rafe grins and steps to you, his arm finding its way around your waist.

“Hungry?” he asks you.

“Starved,” you tell him, and when he turns to get you a snack, you latch onto him, “Kiss, please.”

He chuckles and trails his hands up your body, cupping your jaw and pressing his lips to yours. Your hands meet his shoulders, dying to get him closer, when you’re only forced apart.

“Mama, you’re home!”

You pull back from Rafe and meet Connor’s eyes as he rushes over to you, diving into your arms the second he has the opportunity.

“Hi, handsome,” you greet, “Missed you.”

You kiss his cheek and he smiles, “Missed you, too. Daddy was talkin’ about you all day.”

You raise an accusing brow at Rafe, whose cheeks flush slightly, and he turns his attention to Josie as a distraction. You step closer to him, watching as he tucks her pacifier back into her mouth and gives her a kiss, making her lips curve up.

“He was, huh?” you ask Connor, “What was he saying?”

“He said you’re a— an ‘L word’. What’s the L Word?”

“Okay, squirt,” Rafe stops the conversation before it can go any further, removing Connor from your grip and placing him back down on the floor, “Go wash up for dinner, okay? We’re gonna eat in ten.”

“Okay,” Connor nods and races off toward the stairs, to which Rafe yells ‘walk!’

“The L Word?” you question once Connor’s out of the room.

Rafe’s head gets thrown back while you step to Josie, watching her squirm. You’re sure she’s about to get fussy, and you hope you can have this conversation before that happens.

“Baby, it’s nothing–”

“What is the L Word?” you continue, trying your best not to smile.

“I was on the phone with Kelce,” Rafe grumbles, “The little rugrat must’ve been listening in.”

“I’m waiting,” you tease, tugging him closer by his shirt.

“Lightweight,” Rafe sighs, “That’s the L Word.”

You gasp sarcastically, “You called me a lightweight?”

He laughs and shakes his head, guiding you until your back presses against the countertop. His hands meet the granite, caging you in as he eyes your facial features. Every last one.

“You are a lightweight, baby,” he says, his voice lower somehow, “And I love that about you.”

“You do?”

“I do,” he confirms, “So, you don’t even have to ask me. I love that you thought to, but you should go.”

“What are you talking about?” you question him.

“Your girls night on Friday,” he says, “Kelceo said you told Maddie that you had to talk to me first. I’m saying I love you for that, but I want you to go.”

You bite your lip, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he confirms smoothly, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “Besides, Drunk Y/N has trouble keeping her hands off of me. I can’t wait.”

You roll your eyes but smile, letting his lips meet yours in another gentle kiss. Josie starts fussing at almost the exact moment Connor comes flying into the kitchen, and reluctantly, the two of you break apart.

“You get him, I’ll get her?” Rafe questions.

You nod, “Meet at the table.”

The smile that graces his face is incomparable to anything else you’ve ever seen. It tells you how much he loves this – a partnership, a love, an opportunity to grow and raise children with you. When you two do break apart, you chasing down Connor and him cradling Josie, you still steal little glances to one another. As often as you can, as many as you can, and you smile every single time.

Bedtime is not something you miss often. You’d only missed it a few times with Connor for various reasons, and you’d never missed it with Josie before. Maddie tries to usher you out of the house after saying her own goodbye to Noah and Kelce, but with Connor perched comfortably in your lap while you hold Josie, you’re sure you should cancel. Sarah is holding baby Noah, whispering to him and making him laugh.

“I’ll help tuck Josie in, Mama,” Connor tells you.

You smile and kiss the top of his head, “Thank you, sweet boy. You know she loves her brother.”

“She does,” he says, making you smile even wider.

You look up at Rafe, who holds his arms out expectantly for Josie. You give her a kiss and whisper a ‘goodnight, baby girl, I love you’, then hand her off. Connor spins around in your lap and wraps his arms around you, silently breaking your heart.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you more, handsome,” you reply, “You’ll be good for Dad?”

He nods, “Promise.”

“And Uncle Kelce,” Kelce cuts in, “We’re gonna have so much fun. We’ll eat only processed foods, candy, maybe I’ll even introduce Connor to–”

“Rafe,” you whine, making Kelce laugh.

“Shut up, Kelceo,” Rafe grunts, then reaches for your hand and pulls you up, “Relax, baby. I have it all under control.”

You wrap yourself around him and kiss his cheek, your silent thank you.

“Call me if you need anything,” you whisper, “I’ll come home.”

He shakes his head, “I want you to have fun. Take one night for yourself. I’ve got this.”

Your lips form into a pout, and when he kisses your lipgloss right off, you’re not the slightest bit worried about it.

“I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you, too. You look sexy as hell. Go,” he nods toward the door, but leans down for one last kiss.

You stroke through the hair on the back of his neck and then pull away, giving him a small smile. With one last kiss to Josie, you join Maddie on the other side of the living room. Sarah hands Noah off to Kelce, then hugs Connor and kisses Josie.

“Bye, Mama!” Connor calls as you near the front door.

“Bye, Connor,” you call, “Be good.”

“You be good,” Rafe says back, “But not too good.”

You laugh and follow the girls out, a part of you already missing your family even from where you stand on the driveway.

It doesn’t take much for you to feel the effects of the tequila shots Maddie continues to buy, but you still refuse to admit you’re a lightweight. It only takes three to have you unsteady, gripping onto Maddie’s arm while she rambles on about Kelce’s taste in movies.

“He’s just so good at picking ones I like,” she says, speaking loudly to you and Sarah, “Like, he just knows me so well. It’s crazy. Do you guys want nachos or something?”

“I want chicken nuggets,” Sarah says, throwing back another shot, “And french fries. And ice cream.”

“Oh, let’s do a DoorDash order. Y/N, you in? We’ll Uber to your house?”

“I want Rafe,” you blurt out, gripping onto the bar to hold you up.

“You always want Rafe,” Sarah reminds you.

“I think it’s sweet,” Maddie cuts in, “A night out was needed, but I miss Kelce and Noah a lot.”

Sarah groans playfully, “You guys, come on. Let’s do another shot.”

You both laugh and agree, and while Sarah flags down the bartender, you pull out your phone and text Rafe.

Miss uou. How are the babies???

You can picture him typing back when the bubble appears on the screen, but Sarah draws you away from it when she hands you your shot.

“To girls night,” she cheers, looking drunker than she had been five minutes ago.

“To girls night,” you and Maddie repeat, downing the liquid and then grabbing a lime.

Your phone buzzes, and the lime remains in your mouth while you stare at the screen.

Everything’s good here, sweetheart. Giving Jo her bottle now. Connor is passed out beside me on the couch. Kelce is asleep in the chair. Noah’s chilling in Josie’s exersaucer. Are you having fun?

You smile at the picture he’s painting for you; and you’re not at all surprised to find out he’s the responsible, awake adult between him and Kelce.

So much!! Wish you wsere here, though. Kisses whenn I get homee, ok?

He replies immediately, making you grin like a smitten high school girl. Sarah laughs at you, but you don’t care.

As many as you want. Be safe. If you want me to come get you, I will.

Maddie, who has apparently been reading over your shoulder, speaks up.

“You guys are too cute,” she says.

“Thank you,” you murmur, keeping your eyes fixated on the text.

You type your reply, I love you so much, before tucking your phone away agan. You grab the drink that Sarah ordered for you and give the girls a smile, ready to have fun and not think about anything for the rest of the night.

Despite wanting to have a proper girls night, you and Maddie both want to return home at a decent hour so you don’t wake up the kids in the middle of the night. The Uber pulls into your driveway at eleven forty nine, and you practically tumble out to get to your husband. Sarah and Maddie walk behind you, giggling and talking about some guy who tripped and fell in the bar after having one too many.

You shush them when you open the door with your key; the three of you stumbling into the house. Rafe meets you in the foyer, laughing before he can help himself as he sees your condition.

“Sweetheart,” he says quietly, reaching for you, “Let me help you.”

“Hi, baby,” you coo, giving him a cheesy smile.

“Hi,” he chuckles, “Hang on a sec.”

He squats down and unbuckles your heels, his hand wrapping around your ankle and guiding your leg up so he can remove one shoe, then the other. Once you’re firmly on the ground, he takes your crossbody and your keys and hangs them up on the hooks by the front door, never letting go of you while he works.

“Where’s Kelceo?” Maddie asks Rafe, who shushes her.

“He’s asleep in the living room. Top came over, too, Sarah,” Rafe replies.

Both girls move in the direction of the living room, attempting to be quiet but failing miserably.

“Missed you,” you say, pouting slightly.

He grins, “I missed you, too. Did you have a good time, though?”

“Such a good time,” you gush, “I like tequila.”

Rafe laughs, his hands on your hips, and pulls you closer to him.

“You won’t in the morning,” he says quietly.

“I’ll like you in the morning,” you promise.

“You better,” he teases, “I’m glad you had fun.”

“Can I have my kisses now?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” he smiles as he guides his mouth down to yours.

Your hands travel under his tee shirt before he can stop you, laughing against your lips instead. You pull away after a minute, gripping onto him for dear life as you beg the room to stop spinning around you.

“We’re gonna have to sit down,” you tell him.

He laughs and loops his fingers through yours, leading you into the living room. Sarah seems to have passed out with Topper in the armchair, and Maddie is stumbling around trying to collect Noah’s things that ‘Kelce didn’t bother to pack up’.

You smile and step over to Connor when you see him sleeping soundly on the couch, blanket pulled up to his chin. You kneel and give him a kiss on the forehead, not wanting to wake him but needing to express your love.

Rafe whispers to you that he moved Josie to her room so nothing would wake her up, and you’re thankful for that, given how light of a sleeper she is.

“You’re such a good dad, Rafe,” you say, running your hands up and down his chest.

“Thanks, baby,” he says, almost sounding shy.

“Mean it,” you continue, “I don’t say it enough. I am so lucky to have you.”

“You say it plenty,” he assures you.

You giggle like you’re seventeen when his arms trail down your back and meet your waist, pulling you into his chest. When his lips meet your cheek, then your neck, you’re sure you melt into a puddle right there.

“Kelce, where is his paci?” Maddie hisses.

“I don’t know, but let’s get out of here before the Camerons fuck.”

Rafe’s mouth leaves your skin and he sighs, glancing over your head and at Kelce.

“Seriously?” Rafe groans, pointing to Connor.

“He’s asleep,” Kelce shoots back.

“Noah’s paci is on the mantle, Mads,” Rafe tells her, then looks back at Kelce, “Now, respectfully, Smith, leave.”

You pull from Rafe to help Maddie pack Noah’s diaper bag, then give them both hugs and walk them to the door. Kelce cradles Noah carefully, silently begging him not to wake up. Meanwhile, Rafe shoves Topper and Sarah awake, who both groan, but Sarah looks nauseous.

“You have fun, Y/N?” Topper asks you when he’s upright, trying to help Sarah stand.

“Yeah,” you nod, “Thanks for coming over to help the boys.”

“Anything for you guys,” he promises, “Let’s have lunch next week, okay? I’ve missed you.”

“I’ll set it up at the Club–”

“Top, I’m gonna–”

Sarah reaches for his hand and he gives it, pulling her upright. She definitely looks sick to her stomach, but Topper doesn’t seem to have any sense of urgency.

“I’m gonna take her home,” he says, leaning over and kissing your cheek, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Topper says goodbye to Rafe and leads Sarah out of the house, placing her gently in his car and handing her a plastic bag just in case.

Rafe waves to them and then closes and locks the front door, grinning mischievously at you. Before you can even think about the movement, he pins you against the closed door and cages you in with his arms, pressing his mouth to yours quickly.

“You look so sexy, baby,” he says, his voice low, “Anybody have the nerve to tell you that tonight?”

You grin as his mouth moves down your neck, “One.”

“Oh, yeah?” he challenges, “Did he buy you a drink?”

You laugh, and he nips playfully at your collarbone in return.

“No. He stayed at home with our kids so I could go have my fun.”

Rafe pulls back and he smirks, “I guess I did say that before you left, huh?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “It made my night.”

“Baby,” his shoulders fall, as if he’s melting into you somehow, “I’m just relieved nobody hit on you.”

“Because you’d be in trouble if they did?” you raise a brow, your words dripping with sarcasm.

Rafe laughs and kisses you again before he can help it, groaning when he has to pull back.

“Just don’t like the idea of it, that’s all,” he replies.

You hold up your left hand in between the two of you, wiggling your ring finger and showing him the diamond that sits on it.

“I think this helps,” you remark, “This and the fact that the entire island knows I got pregnant at nineteen–”

Rafe’s face falls and you press your lips together to silence yourself. He stares at you intently, and you watch the way his jaw shifts from side to side.

“Did someone say something to you?” he asks, his voice deadly calm.

“No. I just know people talk, and–”

“Mommy, you’re home.”

You look over Rafe’s shoulder and find Connor standing at the edge of the foyer in his pajamas, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You smile and remove yourself from Rafe, hurrying over and taking Connor in your arms.

“Hi, handsome boy. How was your night?”

“We watched Up. Uncle Top cried.”

You snort and Rafe chuckles behind you, but you can feel the tenseness radiating off his body. He’s not done talking to you.

“Did you?” you ask.

“No,” he says, then follows up with, “Almost.”

You smile and press a kiss to his cheek, “Want me to tuck you in?”

“Yes.”

You hold Connor closer and then turn and walk up the stairs, leaving Rafe to watch you, desperate to finish that conversation.

When you come back down, feeling more sober and a headache coming on, you find Rafe in your bathroom. He’s shirtless, brushing his teeth, and holds his arm out the second you walk in.

“Baby–”

His voice is muffled through the toothpaste, and when you shake your head at him in the mirror, he stops.

“I just wanna go to bed,” you admit.

He nods and leans over the sink, rinsing his mouth out. Without being asked, he then grabs a makeup wipe and gestures for you to sit on the edge of the bathtub. You’re sober enough to do it yourself, but you love this. You’re a sucker for this. You’re sure he knows that, too.

Carefully, he uses his thumb and pointer finger to tilt your head up in his direction, and brushes the wipe over your skin. He’s meticulous with his motions, making sure to get every ounce from your skin.

“Wash your face and come to bed, okay?” he says when he finishes.

“Okay,” you reply.

He gives you a gentle kiss and then tosses the makeup wipe in the garbage, then leaves the bathroom. You use the sink to wash your face and then quickly apply your skincare, wondering all the while how it’s possible to miss someone that’s one room away.

When you make your way back into your bedroom, you change into shorts and one of Rafe’s shirts, then crawl into your bed, into Rafe’s waiting arms.

Your eyes close immediately, making you realize that this is so much better than any bar could ever offer you.

“You’re a fucking amazing Mom, you know that?” Rafe whispers, “Nineteen or not. Nobody could love our kids more than you.”

You kiss his chest, “I love you, Rafe.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart. So fucking much.”

The kiss to the top of your head affirms his words, and makes you smile. As you’re sure he usually does, he waits for you to fall asleep before he even closes his eyes, pulling you impossibly closer and praying he’d done enough to soothe any insecurities you may carry with you.

You wake up in bed alone the next morning, having moved to Rafe’s side of the bed. On his nightstand, your eye catches on a water bottle and three pills beside a folded up slip of paper reading:

You are the worst blanket hog I know. Take these and drink up, then come out. I’ll make you a really unhealthy breakfast.

You smile despite the headache and the turning stomach and do as he instructs, sitting up and taking the pills while you sip on the water.

After a few minutes and the inability to listen to Connor speak through the wall, wanting to hear it for real, you hurry out to your family.

“Mama!” Connor cheers when you emerge, tossing himself at you the second he’s close enough.

“Hi, buddy,” you smile, squeezing him tight.

Rafe grins at you, holding Josie and giving her a bottle. You smile back at him, wanting nothing more than a hug and a kiss from him.

“What’s a hangover?” Connor asks you.

“What?”

“Uncle Kelce kept saying Aunt Mads has the worst hangovers. What does that mean?”

You narrow your eyes at Rafe, who just presses his lips together to hold back his laughter. You sigh and walk over to the couch, sitting down beside Rafe and Josie and pulling Connor into your lap.

“Well, you know how you sometimes get a headache in the morning when you didn’t drink any water yesterday?” you say.

He nods, “Yeah.”

“It’s kind of like that. But with adult drinks,” you explain.

“So Aunt Mads just needs water and she’ll be all better?”

You smile and sweep a few strands of hair back from his face, melting at the sight of his wide eyes.

“Exactly, buddy,” you reply.

Connor nods in understanding while Rafe shifts and sits up a bit, careful not to disturb Josie.

“You’re a smart man, Connor. That must be why you’re going to preschool on Monday, don’t you think?”

Connor’s smile is forced, but it’s there. You tilt your head to search his face, wanting to know what’s happening behind his eyes.

“You okay, bub?” you ask him gently.

“Can you go with me, Mommy?” he says, meeting your eyes.

“Daddy and I both are going to go with you, but we aren’t going to stay. Once you see all the toys and new friends, you’ll be happy,” you say with a smile.

He just nods and you pull him into your chest for a hug, letting him wrap himself around you. Rafe grins and leans over to kiss your cheek, then stands and places Josie in her exersaucer.

“Hey, little man, you want to help me make breakfast?” Rafe asks.

Connor nods and sits up again, holding his arms out for Rafe to grab him. You smile as he lifts Connor up and balances him on his hip, giving you a wink as he does so. While they cook, you move to sit on the floor in front of Josie, listening to her giggle every time you tap on her nose. You can hear Connor’s similar little giggle from the kitchen and smile to yourself, not wanting to believe they’ll grow up any further.

The morning of Connor’s first day of preschool, you wake to find that he’d crawled into your bed in the middle of the night. You smile and kiss his cheek before rising from the bed, freezing when you hear his sweet voice.

“Mama?”

You turn around, meeting those dough eyes that melt you every single time.

“Hey, baby,” you smile, whispering for Rafe’s sake, “You okay?”

He shakes his head, still laying flat on your bed in his Toy Story pajamas and a tight grip on Blue.

“I don’t think I want to go to preschool.”

You give him a sympathetic smile and sit back down on the bed, waving him over. He crawls and then collapses his head into your lap, his eyes glossy.

“Why not?” you ask softly.

His frown deepens, but you know it’s best if he talks about it. If he gets it all out and knows he can always tell you how he’s feeling.

“You and Daddy won’t be there,” he mumbles, “What if I need something?”

“Your teacher will help you,” you promise him, “You’re not going to be alone. You’ll have so much fun. You get to play and run outside and make new friends. I know it’s going to be a little scary at first, but I’ll be there to pick you up the second it’s over.”

He pouts, “Promise?”

You smile and nod, combing his hair away from his eyes.

“I promise, Connor. You’re going to love it.”

He nods slowly; his reluctance is obvious but he at least looks willing to give it a try. Rafe stirs then, groaning slightly before he opens his eyes. The view brings a smile to his face, and he sits up immediately.

“What’s up, you two?” he asks with a smirk.

Connor moves from your lap and crawls over to Rafe, tucking himself into his side. Rafe’s hand falls to Connor’s back, comforting him without even knowing what’s going on.

“Did you go to preschool, Daddy?” he asks weakly.

“I did, buddy,” Rafe says, rubbing his eyes, “It was great. I had a lot of fun every single day.”

“Really?”

Rafe smiles at you, “Really.”

“Can me and you wear the same color today?” Connor asks him.

Connor’s always wanted to look like his dad, be his dad, dress like his dad. So, he and Rafe often coordinate their outfits, and now, you realize it’s a comforting event for Connor. You pout at that, and Rafe grins.

“Of course, buddy. Let’s go upstairs and get you ready. I need to check on your sister, anyway.”

Connor nods and blows you a kiss once he slides off the bed, pulling Rafe along with him. As they pass by your side of the bed to exit, Rafe steps over and tips your chin up, giving you a kiss.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he whispers against your mouth.

“Good morning,” you reply, “I’ll start coffee.”

“I’ve never loved you more,” he teases.

You smile and give him a quick peck before he hurries off after Connor, taking the stairs two at a time to catch him.

Once Connor and Rafe are both in blue polos and you dress Josie and yourself, all that’s left is dropping Connor off. Rafe takes your hand in his as he drives, squeezing it to assure you he’s feeling everything you feel when it comes to Connor being in preschool.

“I’m going to cry,” you warn Rafe quietly.

He smiles and squeezes your hand again, “That’s okay, baby.”

Rafe grabs Josie and places her on his hip while you get Connor out and hand him his backpack. He puts it on while you close the car door, and when you turn and take him in, your lips form a pout.

“Dad,” Connor calls, “Mama’s crying.”

Rafe hurries around the truck with Josie and meets your eyes, shaking his head slightly at you as you stare at him.

“Come on, you two,” he says gently, nodding his head in the direction of the school.

Connor slips his hand into yours as you walk, and you squeeze it the same way Rafe was doing to you. You can tell he gets nervous as you approach his classroom, but he doesn’t say that.

Connor comes to a halt once outside the door of his classroom, pulling you back with him by your hand.

“Buddy?” Rafe calls, “You need a minute?”

Connor nods, “Yes.”

You squat down and squeeze his hand, giving him a reassuring smile when he meets your eyes.

“I’ll be right here to get you when your day is over, okay?” you say.

“How many hours is that?”

“Six, bub.”

“Okay,” he sighs, “Six hours.”

“I love you so much,” you remind him, “You’re going to have so much fun.”

Rafe kneels beside you with Josie, and Connor leans forward to give her a kiss. Then, he moves to Rafe, and you last.

“See you in six hours, Mama,” he tries to smile, but you know he’s anxious on the inside.

“You’re gonna do great, little man,” Rafe says with a smile.

“I’ll be just like you, Daddy,” he says.

“That’s right.”

You and Rafe both stand, and with one final kiss you give Connor, he walks into his classroom. His teacher waves to you from inside and then greets Connor, showing him where to put his backpack. You tear up immediately when he walks out of your line of vision, and Rafe is quick to wrap you in his free arm.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “He’s going to be fine.”

You look up at him and find his eyes glossy, too, but you don’t call him on it. Instead, you just stand there in his comfort, praying that Connor enjoys his day.

“Fucking preschool,” you say only loud enough for Rafe to hear, which makes him laugh.

“You’re gonna be in preschool soon enough, aren’t you, princess?” Rafe asks Josie, then immediately lets his face fall, “No. Nope. Not ready for that yet.”

You laugh and tickle Josie’s stomach, watching her giggle.

“Me neither,” you mumble, “One at a time.”

Rafe kisses Josie’s cheek, still whispering to himself about her staying young and not going off to preschool, or anywhere she could possibly get hurt out of his line of vision.

After another minute, Rafe kisses your hair and then tugs you toward the parking lot, already making up his mind that he’ll be taking an hour off of work later to meet you and come pick up Connor, given that he misses him too much already and it’s only been five minutes.

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ptergwen · 2 years

Note

peter parker x charlie's angels! reader has been on my mind for years. i have no idea what this would be about i just wanted to throw this pairing out there

ask box | taglist | blurb masterlist | main masterlist

w/c: 562

warnings: mentions of food?

a/n: this was a fun one and i put my own little twist on it hehe i hope u enjoy <3 also thank you guys for all the requests! feel free to send in smau reqs too cause i’m in the mood

“good morning, angel.”

“good morning, peter.”

you greet your boyfriend with a grin as he enters the kitchen. he’s already dressed for work. he pecks your lips and squeezes your waist, slipping past you to make himself coffee. he takes it hot, black, and downs it quickly.

he must be in a rush.

“have you eaten yet?”

“no, i was waiting for you.“

“well, we’ve gotta go. you should take something for the road. you’ll need your energy.”

“but we don’t have to be in for another-“

peter tosses you a packet with your assignment for the day.

“change of plans, angel.”

you hurry off to change and meet peter back in the kitchen when you’re ready. he’s on the phone with a colleague, discussing an upcoming project. he wraps up the call.

“breakfast?”

“i’ll eat something when we get there. let’s go.”

peter kisses your cheek and gathers his things. you do the same, then you two head outside. you always go into work together. you do everything together.

the two of you make your way up to the roof of your building. you situate yourself in your usual position, legs around peter’s middle and hands holding on to his shoulders. he extends one arm out and wraps his other around you protectively.

“ready?”

you put peter’s mask on for him, making sure it covers his face.

“ready.”

peter lunges back and then leaps forward, sending you two into the air. he uses his webs to swing you to avengers tower.

it comes in handy that his uniform is a spider suit. your own suit is black and skintight, perfect for blending in. you do all the investigative work of the criminals on your radar, and peter takes them out, with help from you of course.

you’re a pair; a team. that’s why peter calls you his angel. in fact, everyone calls you peter’s angel. it’s your own superhero name of sorts. he’s spider-man, and you’re the angel.

you arrive to the tower shortly and head straight to the lab, no time for a proper breakfast or small talk with the rest of the team. you only steal some food from the kitchen as you pass through. peter is working on new tech that he’ll need to go up against your next adversary. you sit up on the table he’s at, biting into an apple while you review the profile.

“dr. curtis connors, works at oscorp, engineered a regeneration serum made from cross-species genetics. which means?”

“he’s using dna from other species to regrow human limbs and tissue.”

“sounds dangerous.”

“it is dangerous.”

“and gross.”

peter chuckles, pulling up a three dimensional visual of his tech.

“that, too.”

you finish reading the rest of the profile and quirk a brow at peter.

“what is it you want me to do?”

“connors is planning to go public with the serum today. i need you to go to oscorp and get me a sample so i can check it out, figure out how it works. then, we destroy it, and stop him.”

peter looks up at you.

“think you could handle it?”

you chuck the core of your apple into the trash.

“i know i can.”

“you’re an angel, seriously.”

you hop down from the counter with a grin, coming in front of peter and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“your angel.”

tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @jenoslov @kayasholland @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker au #peter parker writing #marvel #mcu #marvel writing #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland writing

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wackywheel · 2 years

Text

c!connor fic rec masterpost!

[img id.] a row of melon blocks, filtered with a gradient of pale purple, blue, and green so that they look pastel. in the bottom left, text reads, “please read these fics they’re so good.” in the bottom right, a sign reads, “eat pant conar.” [end id.]

i talked about making one of these a while back and finally got around to combing thru the tags to compile fics for it so, yo! if you're a fan of c!connor, are looking to figure out how best to characterize him for your own works, just wanna read about him, or any combination of the former, you're in luck!

while the main criteria for stuff to make it on here is that it characterizes connor accurately, nearly all of these are also just fics that i personally like LOL so while i'll try to be as objective as i can for the sake of my fellow c!connor enjoyers, i must be entirely transparent w y'all that this is mostly just fics that i, personally, really like. ...which is technically the purpose of fic rec posts anyways, but i digress...

fics are below the readmore! ↴

ok the way ive ordered all of these is both in categories of.. sort of pseudo genres ? basically theyre just paired/grouped up according to their premise, as well as loosely chronological according to ao3's recently updated filter!

(also, fics with an *asterisk before them are ones that i personally am biased about bc of who wrote them LOL)

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"connor is a god" fics

basically, these fics primarily focus on the hc of connor being a god/immortal that was very popular back before we saw much of him, beyond his appearances in his two tales episodes! while i'm not a huuuge fan of this hc, nor do i really have much to say individually about each fic, i still wanna give these fics props for setting the bar very high when it comes to treating c!connor with respect, reverence, and most of all agency, especially so early on during the post-nov16th months!

There Are Answers Here by angeloncewas

the constant by diapason

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connor & some/all of benchtrio fics

exactly what it says on the tin, this group of fics focuses on connor's relationships with other characters, but primarily with one, more, or all of benchtrio!

Stray Italian Greyhound by akuli holy shit this fic is an absolute classic when it comes to early c!connor content... connor confronts glatt in a very unique way that, honestly? i've rarely seen depicted when it comes to the two interacting! following that, though, connor and tubbo sit down and talk about schlatt in a wholly honest and cathartic way.

*Here Comes the Sun by BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk here it is! the first of many, many, of beatrix's fics i'm gonna rec to y'all! okay to be honest, clingyduo's inclusion in this fic is very very minor if we're gonna dig into semantics, but i otherwise had no idea where else to put this because of how genuinely unique it was for its time! (its time being pre-s2 finale) an indepth study of connor's hypothetical interactions with ghostbur here, flashbacks explaining schlatt's ties to the revive book there, this oneshot absolutely killed it, especially so early on in the lifespan of connor-centric works!

Ask No Guarantees by angeloncewas another connor & tubbo fic! there's an alternate reality where i became a devout c!tubbling i'm absolutely sure of it. to summarize it shortly, the two bond over their dead best friends! wahoo grief! there's also some very interesting discussion of in-universe religion which is always very fun imo!

*advice you’ve given other people that was really about yourself by antfrost ok here we go, first fic from beloved mutual connor timedeo lets go lets go character study of connor using conversations with benchtrio as a vehicle fuck YES sir this fic is great. i am an absolute sucker for character analysis, even when it's just little exchanges and acts of kindness from one hurt person to another (also in all honesty this fic was the one that made me change the section title to benchtrio instead of just tubbo/clingyduo LMAO)

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"connor showed up too late" fics

angst time bitches! despite how much c!connor's backstory is built upon angst, and how much i love the little guy, i'm honestly not a huge fan? anyways i fucking love these fics regardless so i think that must say something either about me or them. you decide

Brutus Is An Honorable Man by 2point5 if stray italian greyhound was a classic, then this fic is literally a loadbearing pillar of the c!connor fanbase. holy SHIT is she one iconic collection of words. the premise is pretty simple, connor shows up too late after getting a letter from schlatt asking him to come. he and quackity talk about schlatt. it does not go well. i cannot stress enough though. read this fic. like this is required reading this is canon its 100% canon cc!connor called me and said it is (lying) (theres just a lot of headcanons i like in it im biased) (not joking about the required reading part though)

People Die Every Day, I Wouldn't Have It Any Other Way by orojiratsu ...and if brutus is an honorable man was required reading, then this fic is extra credit! ...literally! as in it was actually inspired by the last fic! very similar premise, but the author gets much more into detail about the aftermath of nov16th, including tubbo's reaction to connor's past with schlatt, as well as lending connor a bit more agency when it comes to going toe to toe with quackity's reaction to schlatt's death.

Lay here with me until the years go by. by zrkk a very short oneshot, but really impactful all the same! one thing i really commend this oneshot for is that despite its length, the author manages to get connor's verbal reactions to schlatt's death nearly spot on. go give it a read!

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"connor reviving / rescuing schlatt" fics

yessssss we're getting into the good stuff, the struggles that end either happily or bittersweetly all the same. these are fics that i constantly find myself rereading when i'm missing c!connor, and cannot reccomend literally all of them enough!

*The Friends We Refuse to Abandon by BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk ok this is what i meant before by many of beatrix's fics lol this fic is like. another one that's literally required reading if u like c!connor bc it has absolutely everything u could ask for. connor reviving and reuniting with his bestie? having agency in the narrative? helping people just for the sake of helping them? you name it, we got it here.

twenty thousand years of this by rosewitchx GOD this fic is so fucking iconic as well. i absolutely consider it required reading as well, bc both this one and the last one fill their niche incredibly well rosewitchx's writing and characterization of connor, as well as basically everyone else they write from what ive seen, is incredibly well researched and true to their characters, so this is definitely not the last fic of theirs im going to be reccing on this post lol similar premise to tfwrta, except connor wasn't the one to revive schlatt. regardless, he's still given the assertiveness and narrative agency when rescuing schlatt that makes this fic super cathartic to reread if you're craving that sort of thing! (also, this specific fic is from a series of the author's that explains certain headcanons much better than if you were to just read the fic in isolation. go give it a read over here!)

I'm Tired by Anonymous another short read, but still a very good one! props to anon! this fic emphasizes the 'bittersweet' point i made in this section's intro. schlatt has been revived, and he and connor have reunited, but at what cost of his own physical health?

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smplive-era connor fics

yessss fuck yes fuck YEESSS you people are NOT immune to me making you remember not only smplive, but that its CANON baybee its 100% CANON TO DSMP LETS GOOOOOOOOOOO

*Far In Time (we've got some catching up to do!) by connor6Silly wait hold on

*What Will Happen Will Happen by connor6Silly wait fuck these are literally all just my fics

bro did all of the good c!connor smplive fics all get purged or something ??? i literally cant find any that i like, let alone think characterized connor well bc they all do him so fucking dirtyyyy y'all its awful 😭 so uhh in lieu of that .. read my fics? pretty please? i have a whole promo post for the first one here if u wanna learn more :)

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syndicate/karl oriented connor fics

ok so if y'all know me, you know im a sucker for literally all of connor's relationships on the server that we never see actually explored canonically (s&c im talking about s&c) so to balance that out, here's his friendships that are like. actually fucking real! and tangible!

*THIS IS A PROTEST FOR YOUR HEART! by antfrost yessss another one of connor timedeo's fics this is sorrrt?? of?? an au? one where everything went a-okay on nov28th, and everyone in the syndicate is happy and alive and glad to be able to spend time together. connor especially! bc he has lots of people that are there to care for him now! very short, sweet, and fluffy!

*The Planet With a Thousand Sunsets by BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk another beatrix fic!!! and GOD this one is a lot of fun, as well as a companion fic to tfwrta! this fic goes all in on connor and karls friendship, framing it as if it were an actual tales episode with a cast list and everything! as of me making this post (5/22/22) the fic is not complete, so if y'all want to read more of it, i'd really suggest commenting and sharing what you liked about it! (but Do Not pester beatrix about if/when shes going to complete it bc if i hear that shits happening y'all will have hell to pay >:(((( )

*all the broken can find hope (in the most unexpected places) by BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk last fic of beatrix's, as well as another syndicate fic! yipee! now, technically this fic might be better suited to go into the final section of this post, but connor's inclusion is not only accurate enough, but also the setting is very much relevant enough for it to slide into here by means of relating to the syndicate. connor's role in this fic is mostly by means of an exploration of his friendship with schlatt, juxtaposing it with emeraldduo's own close bond. two bad bitches (close friendships that came long before the dsmp ever did) kicking ass together instead of fighting one another for relevancy you love to see it <3

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connor-centric au fics

so technically most of these fics could technically be classified as aus, but thats sort of just the state we're in when it comes to actual canonical content of c!connor. Anyways! here's some straight up 100% aus that very much are either in entire other settings, or diverge early on enough in the timeline that the result is completely unrecognizable from what actually happened in canon

god of arepo (series) by rosewitchx this next rosewitchx fic... isn't technically a fic, but a series! the god of arepo series is very much a product of its time (post-exile, pre-doomsday) but it's still 100% a classic in my eyes basically, this au shows the product of the world being entirely claimed by the egg, and how connor, with ghost sweaterduo in tow, deals with the aftermath. again, very much a product of its time, but i think that makes its state as a sort of fandom-time-capsule all the more appealing <3 break the cycle in half by rosewitchx holy shit this au is an absolute trip in the best way possible??? i've never consumed any of the madoka magica franchise, but you don't really even need to do that to understand the fic tbh after losing all of their loved ones to an unavoidable, inevitable disaster, connor and karl both become magical boys in order to go back in time and save those they lost or die trying

*and the universe said i love you by antfrost if i had a nickel for every c!connor centric meguca au there was on ao3, i would have exactly 2. which isn't a lot, but it's really funny that it's happened twice now! beloved mutual connor timedeo's take on the au is similar, yet still entirely unique on its own! after schlatt gets got during a mission, connor makes his wish to be a magical boy in order to save him. he does not know what he's getting into, to say the least </3

panacea by rosewitchx YESSSSSSS I GET TO TALK ABOUT THIS FIC again, technically it could be classified in the next section of this post, but i feel like the amount of canon divergence it features definitely earns it its place here! while the fic's actual author's notes give a better description of its context, i'll give y'all this quick synopsis- quackity figures out how to revive schlatt right after nov16th, but he comes back... a little different than he left the first time. thus, hijinks ensue.

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fics that aren't fully connor-centric, but still characterize him accurately enough that i'm reccing them

again, exactly what it says on the tin; these fics really don't focus too much on c!connor, so i won't go into much depth about them, but his cameos still pass with flying colors imo, so i'd absolutely reccomend em!

the definition of a dwarf planet by WreakingHavok a short and sweet pre-nov16th sweaterduo fic that recontextualizes a lot of their interactions with smplive as a focal point

when i’d make you oh-so afraid by rosewitchx charlie and connor, but the former especially, both grapple with schlatt’s death and how they feel about it.

I never, never want to go home by rosewitchx a look back at l’manberg, set a year since the 16th.

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aaaand there you have it, folks! a collection of the best of the best when it comes to c!connor! if y’all have other fics you really enjoy centering on mr eatspants, please feel free to send them to me in an ask! i’m sure there’s still just a little bit of gold hiding out in the swathes of badly mistagged fics that are flooding connor’s main tag atm -_-

but yes! i’ll probably update this within the next few months if any new, notable c!connor fics pop up, so keep an eye out!

#connoreatspants #c!connor #connor dsmp #dream smp #smplive #mcyt #mcyt fanfic #dream smp fanfic #dsmp fanfic #mcyt fic rec #dream smp fic rec #dsmp fic rec

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midnight-dreamerness · 3 years

Text

Savior

Chapter 1: Brother’s Best Friend

(This is NOT my gif. Credit to the creator <3)

series summary: when your protector returns, he finds you broken and abused and helps you climb out of the darkness

chapter summary: you never thought you would see him after the funeral, but here he is.

pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

warning: small mentions of smut(nothing major), mentions of abuse, mentions of death, mentions of blood

word count: 2.3k

A/N: Not sure how I feel about this first chapter...let me know what you think! Also some of this may be confusing but it will get cleared up as the story goes on. Also I barely looked over this for mistakes, so sorry in advance <3

You met him in college. He was the popular football player, wanna be NFL. You were the book work that didn’t need any distractions. He was sweet and caring but cocky. Somehow he convinced you to go on a date with him. Everything was going great, but then he hurt his knee during a football game. Then he changed.

At the beginning it was just a couple of harsh words here and there. He would apologize after.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he would say, pulling you close. You got used to it, to the words, the hateful glances he would send ever so often.

His future as a football player was no more. He ended up working in an office, but it wasn’t enough for him.

The first time he hit you, he had come back from the bar, drunk and angry. He had met up with his old teammates, got plastered, made a scene, and got kicked out of the bar. He apologized that morning, crying for forgiveness. And you forgave him. You stayed, even when the abuse continued and got worse.

The worst part is, you blame yourself.

I shouldn’t have tested him and I wouldn’t have to cover the bruise on my jaw with a pound of makeup.

And now, almost 3 years later, you're still making excuses for him. Every hit, every slap, every kick to the ribs, every busted lip or bruised jaw, it was always your fault. It didn’t matter that you did everything he asked. He always found something to punish you for whether it was leaving a dish in the sink, not having dinner ready for him when he got home, forgetting to pick up something for him at the store, or something simple like not making the bed. It was always something.

Kade wasn’t always beating you. He had good days too. You glance down at the ring on your finger, finding it out of place. It didn’t fit right anymore. It didn’t look right on your hand. Truth be told, you didn’t want it there anymore. But what were you going to do? He had mentioned time and time again that if you were to ever leave, he’d kill you.

The elevator dings, indicating someone had come up. It gains your attention, pulling your eyes from the files you were currently going over familiar. His familiar face pulls at your heart and your mind flashes with memories. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Your brother's old best friend is walking right up to your desk, a smile that somehow still makes you weak at the knees, stretched across his face. His eyes shimmer with glee, like he recognized you the instant your eyes met. The familiar ocean blue pulls you in and you're drowning in them all over again.

The gold star hanging from his neck has your attention, a grin appearing on your face. He’s always been a protector. You remember when Danny, your brother, had left, leaving you behind while he fought wars overseas. Jay was a year younger, so Danny had made him promise to look after you. He made him promise to protect you. And he did, until ultimately the year following, he left too.

He approached the desk, shaking his head while letting out a laugh.

“I couldn’t believe it. Miss Hawkins, secretary to the multimillionaire Reese Connor,” he teases, placing his elbows on the counter, intertwining his fingers together. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, trying to ease the pain from your side. He’s bigger since the last time you saw him, it must be four years now. You were barely 22 when he showed up to your front door, holding your brother's dog tags in his hand and tears in his perfect blue eyes.

“Me? Let’s talk about you, Mr. Detective. I heard you’ve been kicking it in the Intelligence Unit.” You laugh, leaning over to shove his arm. He chuckles but something catches his eye. There’s red marks around your neck. You didn’t notice where his eyes trailed, so busy looking over what you could see from your stop behind the counter.

His shoulders were broad, more so than last time it seems. His jaw, not as sharp as it once was and he was no longer clean shaven. His five o’clock shadow runs across his jaw and the lower part of his cheeks. You remember all the complaining he did when he was younger about how he could never grow it out probably and opted just to shave it so your brother would stop teasing him relentlessly.

There’s still freckles running over his face in the most perfect way, trailing down his neck and down under his shirt. There’s a scar leaking out from his olive green shirt that is partially covered by his leather jacket.

You shake your head, looking back into his eyes that hold a different emotion you couldn’t pinpoint, and sigh. “What can I do for you Detective Halstead?” You grinned teasingly. His smile reappeared in a matter of milliseconds.

“I need to speak to Reese involving a case I’m working on. Is there any way I could speak to him?”

You purse your lips, looking down at your watch before replying, “He’s currently in a meeting, it should be over in about ten minutes if you wanna sit and wait?” Jay nods. You smile, pointing towards the chair behind your desk.

He rounds your desk and takes a seat only a couple of feet from your chair, which you sit back down in. You try to ignore the burning in your cheeks. This feeling takes you back to when you were fifteen. A young and naive teenager who thought she was in love with her older brother's best friend, who was 4 years older than you.

“I can see your cherry red face and your facing away from me.” His comment only made it worse. You groan, closing the file and turning to him.

“You haven’t changed have you?” You ask, crossing your legs. It gains his attention immediately. His eyes trail down to your ankle, a large bruise covers the area.

“Well it seems you got more beautiful since the last time I saw you,” he stares, leaning back in his seat. A sting punctures your heart, sadness attempting to creep over you. You push it away, laughing.

“Yeah well it’s been a while since then.”

“You know, I can still remember those boy band posters hanging in your bedroom. And those pigtails you wore everyday in middle school.”

Groaning, you reply, “I hope you don’t still see me as that clingy preteen.”

“I think you know I don’t see you that way anymore.” You knew exactly what he was hinting at, and if it could get any worse, the burning in your cheeks intensified, the ache between your legs reminding you of how good he made you feel and how no other man, even Kade, could make you feel the way he did.

You suck your lips into your mouth, trying to hide your smile.

“What are you here for?” You find yourself asking, picking at your nails, attempting to change the subject before you say something you shouldn’t.

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that.”

Jay lets out a chuckle, making you glance back up to him. He’s shaking his head with a grin. You pout, turning back to your desk.

There was a slight pause as you tried to focus on your work, but you could feel his eyes on you, like he was trying to figure you out after all these years.

“Those are some nasty cuts on your hands, butterfly. What happened?” The nickname brought back so many memories of you and your brother. Tears welled in your eyes but you forced yourself to focus on the question, nervousness sitting in your stomach.

“I broke a plate washing dishes.” The lie fell smooth from your lips, dripping with innocence. A sound leaves his lips, like he didn’t believe you.

“Your eye?”

“Walked into a wall.”

“What about that bruise on your leg?” Looking down, the bruise now visible on the back of your leg you hadn’t noticed this morning while getting ready. You whipped around in your chair to look at the detective coldly.

“I fell.”

“I know you're clumsy, sweetheart, but not that clumsy.” Jag leans over, his forearms leaning against his thighs. “What about the red marks around your neck? Or the bruise on your shoulder that I can see through your white blouse.”

You curse yourself for being so careless. If Kade found out someone was questioning you, a detective and a friend no less, he’d kill you.

“Are you interrogating me, detective?” You ask, looking at him sternly. You intertwine your fingers and sit them in your lap. You watch him cross his arms over his chest, his muscular biceps, bulging through the sleeves of his jacket, gaining your attention. Gulping, you adjust your crossed legs desperate for the little pressure it gives. You hated that he could make you this desperate. Despite being angry, you could tell he knew the effect he had on you. He was going to use it to wiggle the information out of you.

“Does he do it when he’s drunk, sober, or both?”

You narrow your eyes, recalling the times you could smell it on his breath and the times you couldn’t. It seemed like it was worse when he was sober, when he was drunk he was sloppy. You glanced down to your lap, trying to keep the tears at bay. You didn’t need his sympathy. You didn’t need his help. You were a grown woman and you didn’t need your dead brother's best friend looking out for you anymore. You no longer needed his protection.

Luckily you're saved by a man approaching your desk from the direction of Mr. Reese’s office.

“Thank you, Miss Hawkins.” The man slaps the desk before continuing towards the elevator. You rise from your chair, motioning Jay to follow you down the hall towards your boss's office.

“That’s a pretty bad limp. You should get it checked out.”

You stop in the middle of the hall and turn to him, annoyed at this point.

“Detective-“

“What happened to JJ?”

Your eyebrows pull together as you run your hand over your face, a sigh escaping your lips. “Jay, I know you promised my brother you’d look out for me, but I’m fine.” You try to reason, even grabbing his arm and giving him a smile.

“I’m not doing this because of Danny, sweetheart. Believe it or not, I care about you,” he says, stepping closer to you. You gulp, pressing your hands to his chest. He had you against the wall now, his arms on either side of your head, trapping you.

“Jay, please. I’m engaged.”

Jay pulls back abruptly, giving you a shocked look but there was anger in his eyes.

“You're marrying that bastard?” He lets out a sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. You move to touch him, but he moves from your grasp.

“Take me to Reese.”

You look down, nodding before continuing on towards your boss's office. You knock on the door, waiting on the okay before walking inside. Your boss sits at his desk and was previously focused on his computer but his attention is turned to you.

“A Detective Halstead is here to see you.”

He flashes you a smile before motioning him inside. You let Jay pass, taking in a sharp breath as his body brushes with yours.

Once you're outside and the door is shut behind you, you lean against the wall, trying to calm yourself down. Ever since he came back from his first tour, to spend some time with his family, your feelings for him became much more than some school girl crush. You saw him in a new light. He was more than your brother's best friend, more than that guy who looked after you ever so often. He was a man and you, you were a woman. You had hoped for so long that he would see you differently. He did, but the time for you and him had passed.

Your little moment was ruined by the sound of a voice, “Who the hell was that?” Your head snaps towards the end of the hall. Kade’s friend Nathan stands there, a glare set in his eyes. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as your breathing becomes unsteady. You're stuttering out incoherent words but he’s already pulled out his phone and dials a number while walking in the opposite direction of where you're standing.

Although filled with fear and worry, you continued working, distracting yourself and praying that he’ll let it go, or at least listen to you when you tell him you didn’t say a word to Jay. He knows Jay, and when he finds out that it was him who you were talking to, it’s going to be ten times worse.

Your attention is once again drawn to him as he walks up to your desk from the direction of the hall. He slides a card onto the table towards you.

“I wasn’t there for you like I promised you that day. I failed you, and I failed him. I know the signs. When you're ready to get out, call me. I won’t let you down, not this time.” You watch him walk away, heart sinking into your stomach. You want him to come back, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to call out to him, or to trust him again.

Before he enters the elevator, he gives you another look and adds, “You’re strong. Remember that.”

He gets into the elevator and he’s gone. You picked up the card, looking it over. He reminds you that not every man is as awful as Kade. But he has his claws dug into you so deep, you can’t even trust Jay, the man who protected you when your brother was away. You don’t know what to do without Kade. You love him.

He’s going to change, you tell yourself. You only hope you’re right.

A/N: Okay can i just say how sorry i am for how long it took me to post this story :( Not gonna make any promises but chapter two should be out Friday or Saturday. Thanks for the support. If you want to be added to my taglist let me know!

#chicago pd #chicago pd imagines #jay halstead #jay halstead imagines #jay halstead x reader #one chicago #detective jay halstead #jay halstead one shots #chicago pd x reader #dom jay halstead

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felicitysmoaksx · 1 year

Text

Hi everyone! This is by no means my favorite chapter, but it has some of my favorite moments in the story and I'm curious to see which ones yours are and the ones you think mine are. But this chapter is very grief heavy so take care of yourselves and I hope you enjoy it. Also fun fact: we start this chapter where I initially started the story but then changed it. Song recs for this chapter: See You Again (Acoustic) by Tyler Ward, Hold On by Chord Overstreet, Forever Winter by Taylor Swift, and The Good Ones by Gabby Barrett

Rating: Mature

Summary: Her eyes squeezed shut before she dropped her head. Borrowed time. It was meant to be her…It was meant to be-

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: implied/references a canonical character death and in depth survivors’ guilt

The creamy beige walls with green accents, with picture frames lining those walls and warm wooden floors, were not what Connor was expecting when he stepped foot in Hank Voight’s two-story townhouse, after the funeral. Truthfully he didn’t know what he was expecting but the cozy-looking house, wasn’t it.

They were the first ones there after the service and Sarah had used her key to let them in.

“Camille, Hank’s wife, decorated the house, and he didn’t have the heart to change it after she lost her battle with cancer,” Sarah informed him when she caught him looking around. Like it had been since she was discharged from the hospital and in the days leading up to Justin Voight’s funeral. Sarah’s voice was quiet and tinged with sadness.

Connor let his eyes wander around the room once more and now his lover had said something, he could the feminine touches around the parts of the house that he could see from the entryway.

“It’s nice,” he said quietly, keeping his voice just as quiet as hers, as his hand, that wasn’t already holding hers, picked up a picture frame. A much younger version of the brunette beside him stared back up at him. Sarah couldn’t have been more than sixteen in the picture. She stood smiling, along with Hank, Justin Voight, Erin Lindsay, and a middle-aged woman with dark brown hair and brown eyes, he didn’t recognize stared back at him. Their smiles were bright.

“Camille?” He asked, nodding a little at the picture though he was fairly certain. Sarah nodded, nuzzling his shoulder a little as she leaned against it. She probably didn’t realize what she was doing, but Connor wrapped an arm around her waist. It wasn’t often that Sarah clung to him, but she was right now and Connor was willing to give his affection to her in spades.

“That was taken the day of mine and Justin’s high school graduation. Camille’s chemo had started to affect her with nausea and hair loss about a month before. She had even started to lose weight, but you wouldn’t have known it with the way she acted. It was like she was superwoman.” She explained and it was clear from her tone of voice, she held a fondness for the woman.

“You miss her.” It wasn’t a question. But his lover still nodded as she explained, “I owe a lot to her and Hank. But I think the most I owe to Camille is making sure I at least finished high school. She’s probably the reason I’m standing here next to you right now.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Camille taught middle school. So education was pretty important to her and to put it lightly my grades were less than stellar. But it wasn’t because I didn’t get it. I just didn’t care.” It was hard to imagine the brunette beside him as a delinquent as she was alluding to. He always thought of Sarah as a brainiac and a perfectionist.

She huffed a ghost of a laugh, “I still remember the speech she gave me. 'I know the system and the world have failed you. You got into a situation that you didn’t put yourself in and you’re angry. And I’m not denying that you have a right to be angry. But Sarah, you’re smart. So smart. Don’t think I don’t see you helping Justin with his homework sometimes. So I don’t understand why a girl who is as smart as you, thinks it’s okay to fail yourself by not even trying to finish high school.'”

“Did it work?”

“To an extent. At least in middle school. I put in just enough effort to pass. It wasn’t till I entered high school that my teachers noticed I wasn’t trying because I was bored. I wasn’t being challenged enough, so a month into the school year I took a lot of tests. Turns out I was testing out of subjects to see where I could be placed at.”

Another barely there chuckle, “I tested out of the ninth and tenth grade. I was fourteen and a junior in high school.”

Connor couldn’t hide his wince. He remembered being fourteen and really couldn’t imagine being in junior year at that age. Fourteen and freshman year was bad enough. A watery chuckle fell from her lips, “Yeah, I had it easier than most though. Hank and Camille pulled me out of the private school they had Erin and me in when we came to live with them and put me in the public high school Justin was at. He and Tucker looked out for me. I had one of them most of the time. And if I didn’t have them, there was usually a guy Justin was friendly with.”

Silence fell as he placed the picture back on the table. Then Sarah spoke quietly, “She wasn’t my mother and I know that. But when I picture my mother, she’s who comes to mind. With my father, it’s different. Hank has been my dad for sixteen years now. But I still remember how my father looked. How he smelled and what he sounded like. At least a little. But my mom, my actual mother, I only have a blurry outline of her. I can’t even remember her face. Let alone what she smelled like or sounded like and Bunny, well was Bunny. We’ll just leave it at that. But Camille always smelled like flowers and lemon pledge because of her dust allergy. And in the mornings, when getting three kids up and moving for school, she sounded like a drill sergeant. But when you were sad or upset, she was the most soothing voice. The hypnotic kind you could fall asleep to.”

The brunette shook her head, “That must sound so weird.”

A wistful vulnerability had entered her voice now. So Connor pressed his lips to her forehead gently as he played with a loose curl to get her attention. Brown eyes peered back up at him from where her head rested against his shoulder.

“It doesn’t sound weird, baby. Hank and Camille raised you. Helped make you the person you are today. It makes sense that they’re who you picture as your parents.”

“Thank you,” he felt Sarah sag just a little into him and Connor took her weight easily, and wrapped an arm around her waist. “And thank you for being here today too. It means a lot to me.”

“You don’t need to thank me. You know I’m here for you.” He told her softly. Then it was over as his lover pulled away from him, rubbing tears away from her face while she made her way to the kitchen. Connor bit back a sigh. He wanted her to lean on him. He wanted to be there for her, but for all his wanting, when she did lean on him; Sarah pulled away just as quick.

Like the brunette was afraid of something. But Connor couldn’t figure out what that was yet. Though he had a nagging feeling that it had something to do with her comment about being an “extended booty call.”

The conversation about their relationship hadn’t happened yet. Though he promised his sister, he couldn’t talk to Sarah about their relationship right now. It wasn’t the right time. There was just too much going on right now and she was too vulnerable. But it was just a formality to Connor anyway. It could wait; it had for six months. Conversation or not, he was hers. Now he was just trying to ease her into it.

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A few minutes later there was a knock at the door and Sarah came out of the kitchen, raising her eyebrows back at Connor who looked confused as well. It was too early for anyone from the service to show up yet. According to Erin’s text, there was a bad wreck on Roosevelt holding everyone up. (Sarah and Connor had come the back way to the house so they had missed it.)

“Do you want me to get it?” Connor offered and the brunette shook her head. He had been great before the service, talking with everyone when she didn’t have the energy to socialize. And her lover had even let her hide in his embrace when the service was too much for her. But she couldn’t keep using him as a crutch. She knew she couldn’t; it wasn’t right. She made her way to the door.

“Maggie,” Sarah said slowly before her eyes widened as she took in everyone else who stood behind the charge nurse. Will, Natalie, April, Ethan, Ava, and Monique stood there.

“Are we late? Sorry, Reese, we wanted to come to the service too but we couldn’t find enough people to cover a whole shift.” Maggie explained, wrapping her in a one-armed hug. In her other hand were two casserole dishes. One was regular-sized, made for serving people and the other was smaller. Made to serve one or two people. Sarah returned it, feeling a little stunned at the sight of everyone there, looking at her with varying degrees of sympathetic smiles. Ms. Goodwin and Dr. Charles and his ex-wife had showed up to the service, but Sarah figured it was a respect thing more than anything. She wasn’t expecting anyone else from the hospital with the exception of Connor to show up. (Despite her many claims that he didn’t have to come with her.)

“And the service felt more like a family thing and we didn’t want to intrude.” Natalie chimed in, taking Maggie’s place when the charge nurse released her. “How’re you holding up Sarah?”

“Plus we got lost. Whenever Jay talked, he made it sound like Voight lived in Pilsen. Not North Lawndale.” Will was next to hug her, squeezing her in a big bear hug.

“The GPS always gets it wrong anyway,” Sarah answered feeling a little like she was in a daze at the sight of her coworkers and friends. Choi wrapped his arms around her next and Sarah hugged him a little tighter than the others simply because he and Justin used the same cologne. The clean spearmint smell brought tears to her eyes and she had to blink back.

She couldn’t cry. Not here. Not with everyone staring at her with everyone looking at her with varying degrees of pity.

“But Sarah, something awful happened to you. It’s okay to cry.” Justin’s ghost told her sadly. Her tears pricked her eyes and threatened to fall again. She jerked herself out of Ethan’s arms as if she was burned. Thankfully no one noticed or they were too nice to mention it. April came next, whispering how she was sorry. Then Monique, who didn’t have anything to say, but squeezed her extra tight. Borrowed time. It was always meant to be her-

“If you want we can check the bandage? See how it’s healing?” Ava asked, when Sarah pulled away from her. She had been the last to hug her. Thankful for the interruption to her guilt-consuming thoughts, the brunette shrugged and grabbed the first aid kit from the kitchen before she led her to the upstairs bathroom in case someone else showed up.

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“We expected Sarah to not be herself but I didn’t think we expected her to be so…” Natalie trailed off sadly, looking around at their friends for help.

“Lifeless?” Choi inputted softly and she nodded. Feeling a wave of protectiveness hit him, Connor opened his mouth to remind them that of course, Sarah was

going to be in a daze. Her brother had died. But Maggie and Will beat him to it.

“Nat, you were more or less the same way after Jeff died.” The charge nurse reminded Natalie, coming back from the kitchen. Maggie hadn’t said this in an unkind tone. Merely a gentle reminder, but the other brunette woman blushed and looked at her hands.

Their red-headed friend nodded in agreement as he told them, “And to be honest, it makes sense for her to be like this. There are entire weeks that I don’t remember when my mom and dad both passed. Let alone their actual services. Sarah will probably be on autopilot for a while. The best thing we can probably do for her is to be there and not treat her differently.”

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“It looks okay. Rhodes is doing a good job.” Ava said, inspecting the bullet wound. Then meeting Sarah’s eye she smirked weakly. “You have no idea how much I hate admitting that.”

For her efforts at normalcy, the curly-haired brunette gave her friend a weak smile. Ava placed a piece of gauze on the hole and secured it with some surgical tape as she spoke in a quiet voice, “Though I wish you stayed in the hospital a little bit longer.”

A tear rolled down Sarah’s cheek. Her voice was broken and her face screwed up with a sob. “And I told you that wasn’t an option.”

“I know. And even though I don’t like it. I can understand why that wasn’t an option. I can’t imagine how hard today is for you.”

There were those tears again that threatened to fall. She tried to push them back but once the traderious tears fell. They didn’t stop and Sarah sobbed, “It feels like I’m in a daze. Like everything is just a bad dream but I can’t seem to wake up. No matter how hard I try to pinch myself.”

She showed her friend the welt that was starting to form on her wrist from where she had been pinching all day.

“Oh Reese,” Ava sank to her knees in front of her brunette friend as the other woman crumbled. Sarah buried her face into her hands. “And when I can’t wake up, I just start crying…”

Another broken sob as Sarah felt her body start to shake. “I. Hate. crying, Ava. It feels like the last few days, all I’ve done is cry. I should be all dried up by now. I shouldn’t have any tears left.”

“You faced something terrible. Something no one should have to go through and you lost someone important to you.” The blonde told her with a slight frown, bringing her into a tight hug. “You are allowed to cry, to grieve. To be hurt and angry that this happened. Don’t deny yourself that.”

Was it ironic that Justin’s ghost who seemed to follow her had said the same thing to her earlier?

Sarah felt herself start to crumble in Ava’s arms. Sobs wracked her body and that familiar stiff ache of a migraine emerging. With a sigh, she pulled away and scrubbed roughly at her face.

“Sarah,” the blonde said, but Sarah was already shaking her head as she pushed herself to her feet. “Other people are going to be here soon. I can’t-”

She couldn’t cry in front of them. She didn’t feel like she could because who was she? What right did she have to cry when in reality, as much as they acted like it, she wasn’t Justin’s sister. She wasn’t Hank’s daughter. She was the girl no one wanted. Her own parents had left her. Had left her with Bunny, who had no problem telling her she was just another mouth to feed. Another burden that no one wanted. (“But you are my sister, Sarah. Just like you’re Dad’s kid too. Just like Erin and Teddy.” The ghost seemed to whisper.)

“Sarah,” Ava said again, but Sarah shook her head again, already headed for the door. It was meant to be her. Not Justin.

“Thank you. For changing my bandage.” The curly-haired brunette said before she walked out of the door without another word.

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“I appreciate you all coming but you really didn’t have to.” Sarah said, making her way back down the steps. By the way, everyone seemed to stop talking, she knew they had been talking about her.

“You didn’t have to come to my Dad’s memorial but you did. And you stopped Jay from kicking Timmy Oaks ass.” Will said as he grinned at her, nudging her with his shoulder.

“That’s because Erin was sick and at the rate Jay was going, she was worried he was going to kick someone's ass.”

“And you didn’t have to help me put together furniture pieces for my apartment but you did,” Ava said, making her way down the steps. She stopped behind her and Sarah turned.

“I bribed Jay, Adam, and Kevin with pizza and beer to put together your furniture. Then I helped you read the directions.”

“And you didn’t have to take me to the 21st and wait with me when my place was broken into a few months ago. But you did.” Monique added.

“I knew they would send you to the 13th. And I also knew Alder who runs the B&E unit. He graduated with Erin’s class at the academy. He’s misogynistic and thinks the only thing a female cop is good for is being a figurehead. He wouldn’t have taken you seriously. At least with Ruz and Kev, I knew you’d be in good hands.”

“And you didn’t have to come to my Uncle Paul’s funeral and listen to my Grandma’s ramble on about knitting. But you did. She also made a casserole by the way. She also made a smaller vegetarian one for you. I put them on the counter.” Maggie told her.

“She didn’t have to do that.” This time Sarah didn’t have a way to contradict the charge nurse. So she just shook her head. Because everything everyone had just said, although true, was different. That was them. Not her.

"She wanted to Reese," Maggie told her.

“You’re just as important to us as we are to you, Sarah,” Choi told her. His usual intense demeanor seemed to be toned down a few notches. April nodded.

“Friends show up for each other and you’ve shown up for us when we've needed it. Now let us do the same.”

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Thirty minutes to an hour later, more people started to show up and the brunette learned just how small the world actually was when Autumn looked at Natalie from where she was pressing herself into Sarah’s leg with a large grin and said, “Hi Owen’s mom!”

Autumn and Owen had gone to the same daycare while the hospital’s in-house one was being renovated. Natalie told her, waving to the little girl.

“And,” Natalie added, “I had been room mom a few times. Is Autumn yours? I’ve only seen Tucker pick her up. But wait, she would’ve had to be born around the time Owen was because they’re about the same age…”

Sarah shook her head as the little girl left her side to chase after Travis, who was trying to convince Annie to let him have another soda. “No, Tucker and I go way back, and don’t get me wrong he’s great. But we don’t go back like that. He was Justin’s best friend and we went to school together. After his wife, Leah passed because of complications with the birth, everyone around Tucker stepped up to help out with Autumn.”

“I only asked because she seems pretty attached to you in particular,” Nat remarked gently. It was true. Since arriving with her father, and despite Sarah’s place by Connor’s, the small girl had attached herself to Sarah’s side (like she usually did) until a few minutes ago.

“Well,” the curly-haired brunette shrugged at the other woman, “It takes a village right?”

“It does,” Natalie agreed, and though she could tell there was more to the story, she let Sarah go back to her place by Connor’s side on the couch.

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“You’re not the guy I pictured for my little sister.” Erin took Sarah’s spot beside him on the couch, after Hank had pulled his lover into the kitchen to eat a plate of food he made for her. Connor took a swig of his beer, an eyebrow raised at the police detective.

“I’m hoping there’s a ‘but’ coming here?”

“I thought you were too overconfident. A little too full of himself because he was good at what he did and he knew it. It makes for a big ego in people and I thought you were too full of yourself to be what my sister needed in a partner.” She continued and when his frown deepened, Erin smiled softly in return, “But then I watched you look at my sister like she was the moon and the stars in your universe. I watched you sit by her side for hours upon hours while she was sedated. And when she was discharged and we were fighting about her staying by herself, you stepped in and offered up yourself and your apartment to try and make everyone happy. And you came with her today, to a funeral service of a person you didn't. Not many people would do that.”

Connor shrugged, looking away when Erin’s eyes bore into his. It was only then that the woman said, “A lot of guys would’ve cut and run by now.”

“It’s not in my nature.” It wasn’t. Maybe it was the trauma of losing his mom like he had. A subconscious pull that he wasn’t always aware of. If his father had reached his hand out to his mother more, and helped her deal with her bad days and her mental illnesses in general, she might still be here. Maybe that’s why Connor didn't, as Erin put it, ‘cut and run.’ Instead, he found himself doubling down when things got hard. “I don’t scare easily.”

He returned Erin’s look finally and she gave him another smile. “Clearly, you don’t and to be clear, this isn’t me saying I like or approve of you yet…”

“But?”

“But you love my sister. There is no denying that. Anyone who’s paying attention can see that and that is a good first step.” Connor shifted in his seat. He wasn’t denying her statement and you could definitely call him old fashioned in this regard but he hadn’t even uttered those words to Sarah yet. If he was going to tell anyone he loved the brunette beauty, it was going to be him telling her first.

So instead he said, “She’s not ready to hear that yet.”

“She will be though.” Erin told him with a sad smile, “We’re all just a little fragile right now.”

#one chicago #chicago med #chicago pd #rheese #one chicago fanfiction #chicago med fanfiction #chicago pd fanfiction #sarah reese #connor rhodes #hank voight #erin lindsay #my writing

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