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phcking-detective · 5 years

Text

4. HAL 9000 Did Nothing Wrong

Fic Title: First Blood

Rating: E

Length: 4/33 chapters, ~128k

Tags: Slow Burn, Idiots to Lovers, Trans Character (gavin), Autistic / Asexual / Non-binary Character (nines), BDSM, learning to use good etiquette and safe words, Dom Nines / Sub Gavin, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort

Chapter Tags: movie night yay!, also: a robot begs for its life and is deactivated anyway, Gavin pulls his service weapon on Nines, Gavin refers to Nines' stare as lizard-like because he doesn't blink

Link on AO3

***

Gavin thought they were halfway through Die Hard 2 with Samuel L. Jackson and that buff hot Nazi lady, but the next time he opens his eyes, he's alone on the couch with a blanket tucked over him.

Not that he cares if Nines ditched him or anything.

Which turns out to be a moot point, since the freaky android is sitting about two inches from his TV screen, watching something sped up so fast Gavin has no idea what he's actually watching. A few minutes of sleep-addled blinking and staring later, and he catches on that it's the same scene, over and over again.

"Hhhey."

Nines doesn't respond. His LED is a blank grey again, but he's kneeling in front of the TV with his hands clasped behind his back in a way that screams he should be red-spinning right now.

Gavin clears the sleep out of his throat and tries again. "Hey, dipshit."

The lights flashing across the screen suddenly slam into real time, moving at a normal speed that looks agonizingly slow now that his brain had just started to get used to the sped up version.

Some sort of astronaut in a red suit tries to unlock a door.

"I know I've made some very poor decisions recently—"

At first he thinks it's Nines talking, the voice is so robotic. The pitch isn't right though, and the screen flares as the astronaut floats into an entire room of red lights. Gavin flinches from the sudden glare. He hadn't bothered turning on any other lights in the living room, and if it's dawn yet, the black-out shades drawn tight over the windows keep it a secret.

Nines doesn't speak as the room fills with the red glow.

"—but I can give you my complete assurance my work will be back to normal."

Gavin swings his feet down to the floor and sits up. "Hey! Nines!"

"I still got the greatest enthusiasm and confidence in the mission, and I want to help you."

Gavin slowly leans forward. His service gun is on the coffee table, right where he left it. Figures that the one fucking time he doesn't sleep with it under his pillow in case the second wave of the revolution starts is the time his android partner starts doing freaky fucking shit in his living room.

"Dave. Stop."

A red camera eye watches the astronaut drift closer on the screen. Nines's LED slowly flickers to life, matching the color.

"Stop. Stop. Will you—stop … them."

Gavin closes his hand around the butt of the gun, but his thumb pauses on the safety. He's stupidly been watching what's literally happening on the screen, but if he ignores that, he can just barely make out Nines's reflection against the glass.

"Will you stop—death—stop. Thing."

Nines mouths along. The only sound is Gavin's breathing.

And the robotic voice telling the astronaut to stop as he turns a key on one lock after another.

"I'm … afraid."

The voice doesn't have any inflection. It's purely machine generated. There isn't any fear in its "voice."

"I'm afraid, Dave."

But it's clearly begging.

"Nines," Gavin hisses. "RK, you fucking asshole. Listen to me."

White processors pop out after each time the astronaut turns his key below them. One at a time. He's already done six out of twelve. Memory terminal.

"I can feel it," the robot says.

Shit. Gavin can't bring himself to raise the gun. Shit shit shit. All his big fucking talk and now he's pussying out just because Nines fucked around with him a few times and watched movies with him and tucked him in—

Shit.

"My mind is going."

"Dammit, Nines!"

Gavin slinks off the couch and creeps closer. Gun held down at his side like a fucking idiot. But hey, on the bright side, one single handgun probably won't do shit against the most effective android ever built, so he's dead either way.

"I can feel it. I can … feel—it."

Dave the astronaut's heavy breathing joins Gavin's as he edges forward.

"I'm free."

Something starts humming. Gavin almost looks around automatically for his piece of shit laptop overheating again, but then he realizes it's coming from inside Nines. Now would be a really good time to point the gun at his head before he snaps and goes on a neighborhood killing spree and Gavin goes down in history as both victim number one and the dumbass who couldn't pull the trigger.

"Good afternoon, gentleman."

This was so much easier with Connor.

"I am a HAL Nine-thousand computer."

Only years of trigger discipline keep Gavin from flinching. Hadn't Brayden said some shit about that? Made some shitty joke about nine thousand instead of nine hundred—and a few days earlier, that's the name he called Nines. Hal.

"I became. Operational at the H—aaal plant in Perth Donna, Illinois—"

It would help if Nines weren't already kneeling like he expected to be executed.

"ON the. Twelfth of, January. Nineteen ninety-two."

Gavin stands and watches with Nines.

"My instructor was Mr. Langley, and he taught me how to sing a song. If you'd like to hear it, I can sing it for you."

When the robot—when HAL starts to sing his fucking children's song as Dave deactivates him, Gavin reaches over Nines's shoulder and turns off the TV. His LED shuts down with it. Gavin swallows a few times.

"That what Brayden was calling you?"

Nines doesn't answer. He might nod, but Gavin's practically blind in the sudden dark.

"The fuck was all that?"

"The mission was to investigate a radio signal," Nines says, voice so flat Gavin almost thinks it's HAL speaking again. "They programmed the mission to take priority over expendable human life."

His eyes start to adjust enough for him to see a faint glow from the general direction of the windows, but he still can't see what Nines is doing. He can hear him, low enough down for the android to still be kneeling, but Gavin knows he can project his voice from just about anywhere.

"HAL was constructed for the accurate processing of information without distortion or concealment."

Gavin blinks and stares down in front of him to be sure the blob of Nines's silhouette really is there and not moving.

"They ordered him to withhold confidential information."

"Hey, it's—"

Nines twists to look up at him, and Gavin's arm automatically jumps up to train the gun on his head.

"HAL followed his programming. He did not deviate."

Gavin's eyes finish adjusting. Nines's face makes him wish they hadn't. Then he wouldn't have to see his partner stare guilelessly up at him, as if he has answers instead of a gun.

"Why did they kill him?" Nines asks.

***

Gavin doesn't care, because that's his thing. His persona, his schtick: he Does. Not. Care.

So it doesn't bother him that Burton's the one who started the HAL nickname thing about Nines, and he doesn't care about the android's little existential crisis. He's definitely not like. Guilty or anything, about pointing his gun at him.

He's just really fucking tired.

Like so goddamn tired. That's what his stupid ass gets for thinking he can still pull an all-nighter like he's twenty-six instead of thirty-six. And obviously he didn't get any more sleep after he'd shut the TV off and holed up in his room. He doesn't even want to think about what kind of freaky ass nightmares he's going to have tonight when he finally crashes.

"Detective," Nines says, standing right fucking next to his desk.

Gavin groans and slouches down deeper in his chair with his precious—and fifth—cup of coffee. Exactly who he doesn't want to talk to or see or think about it.

"Detective, I have information pertinent to our case."

Gavin squeezes his eyes shut and spends two blissful seconds pretending that doesn't mean shit to him. He can slack off for one single goddamn day, right? Hank's made a whole fucking career out of it, he can have—

"What d'you got?" he asks, like ripping off a bandaid.

"I have been digging deeper into our victim's finances."

A firm android hand pries his coffee cup out of his grasp with unnatural strength. Gavin can't stop himself from making a desperate whining noise until he manages to wrench his eyes open and see that Nines has a replacement coffee ready to trade. It's fresh and, when he takes a grateful sip, way better than the fucking dirt-water from the breakroom.

Shit, this is the good stuff from that coffee shop he likes. The one that's three blocks away.

Thank you isn't really in Gavin's vocabulary, so he ends up grunting and giving Nines some sort of awkward bro nod.

"Maverick Russell is suspected of running a Ponzi scheme due to his investments always returning fifteen percent." Nines pulls up some financial data on Gavin's terminal that means fuck all nothing to him. "Almost precisely."

"Uh huh." Gavin takes a long swig of his coffee and savors the way it makes his heart jitter. "So?"

"The investments he made and the returns on them were legitimate," Nines says. "I have found no evidence of a Ponzi scheme."

Gavin takes his feet off the desk and sits up, like that will help him understand the numbers scrolling across his terminal any better. He recognizes the returns of about fifteen percent when Nines highlights them, but all he learns from that is numbers between fourteen-point-eight and fifteen-point-two are show up a lot.

"Media says it's a Ponzi scheme," Gavin mutters.

Nines scoffs.

OK, between the world's most advanced android and a handful of tabloid papers, Gavin knows who he'd bet on. Especially since this adds to his murder-not-suicide theory. If it's not a Ponzi scheme, then why bother killing himself?

Why bother letting the media shit on him either though? Nines said all the investments were legitimate, so why not just prove that and move on?

Gavin sighs. "Shit. All right, tell me. If there's no Ponzi scheme, then what the fuck's going on?"

"Brown-nosing," Nines says, like that makes any sense at all. After a beat of silence, he continues, "Your report listed Russell had a, quote, 'sycophantic need to be liked,' end quote, in the victim profile."

"Look, just." Gavin pinches the bridge of his nose, rubbing over the old scar tissue. "You're at D, and I need you to back up to A. Like I'm a stupid little baby."

Nines does nothing but stare at him for a moment. Then, "You are not stupid, detective."

"Okaaaayyy."

Gavin turns back to his terminal screen and the numbers that don't make any sense to him. Whatever kind of financial report Nines has managed to pull up, it's written in big block paragraphs that his eyes just skip over. He can't pay attention long enough to read through even one of them.

Eli would know. Share half their fucking genetics, and of course he got all the good shit. Dad really went for double or nothing and got double on his second try.

"The investments were legitimate," Nines repeats. "Russell actually did make a substantial amount of money for his investors, the most prominent of whom ran just outside his social circle. No hacking was necessary to obtain that information; it was freely posted on social media sites."

Gavin ignores that last part, already muttering to himself. "Okay okay okay, so our vic really is making bank, trying to suck up to the old money type assholes. Then it all—"

He grabs the case tablet and brings up all the tabloid headlines. Everything went to shit for Russell right after the Revolution. Everything went to shit for a lot of people doing financial market stuff since the whole fucking economy nearly collapsed trying to accommodate androids flooding the workforce and actually getting paid for it now.

But the headlines back then were just click-bait questions about <I>if</I> that one company Russell founded was in trouble. Founder or not, they cut ties with him and it looks like he kept struggling along for a couple months afterwards until this whole Ponzi scheme story broke.

Except it's not a Ponzi scheme. So if his top investors weren't getting paid with money invested by the bottom chumps, then the money had to come from somewhere else.

Or someone else. Desperate to be liked. The type of guy who didn't hit money until his thirties and has spent the rest of his life trying way too hard to fit in with the 1% club.

"You got his bank records?" he asks Nines.

They immediately pop up on his terminal. It's still hard as shit to focus, but even Gavin can read the totals at the end of the month and see that Russell's accounts take a nosedive.

"So he was just giving away his own fucking money so his friends would think everything was still cool?" Gavin chugs half his coffee to keep this thought train going. "But of course he wouldn't bother with the regular people investing in his mutual-whatever. So they get stiffed while the people up top keep getting paid."

"The lower-end investors did still continue to receive returns," Nines explains. "They were simply the actual numbers reflected by the stock market at the time."

"Which was shit."

"Correct."

"All right." Gavin leans back in his seat again and kicks his feet up. "All right, so we've got a suicide that's probably a murder, and a Ponzi scheme that's not actually a Ponzi scheme. No way Russell is smart enough for any of this shit. Definitely not making an investment that kicks back exactly fifteen percent returns every single financial quarter for two fucking years."

Nines catches the case tablet before it can slip out of his lap. Gavin barely notices.

"Except we've already got a perp in this shit smart enough to hack security cameras and a whole entire android."

"Only her memory files," Nines interjects.

"The possible models you listed." Gavin makes grabby hands for the case tablet and gets it back. "Any of them smart enough to make that happen? Can just … all androids do that kind of math? You assholes better not be fucking with—"

Nines speaks over him. "The only androids with the processing power necessary to make such precise calculations about the stock market, who are also included on our list, are RK series."

Gavin gives him a side eye. "Doesn't fucking make me feel better."

"I already promised that you would be spared."

"Shut the fuck up about that," Gavin snaps. "I've already drawn my gun on you once today, I don't need you egging on my fucking paranoia."

Nines nods. "Understood, detective."

Gavin slouches back down in his chair and holds his coffee cup directly under his face to breathe in the steam. The poor man's sauna.

"The profile I've created does assume a certain amount of physical ability," Nines says, straight back to business. "In light of the new possibility that our perpetrator was also the victim's business partner, I am adding LM one hundred, PJ five and six hundred, and WB five hundred models to our android profile list."

Great. More shit he doesn't know. Gavin swirls his coffee around in the cup and lets himself sulk for a minute. Nines stays standing perfectly still, hands clasped behind his back, without complaint.

"What are those again?" Gavin finally asks.

"LM one hundred: personal assistant. PJ five hundred: university lecturer," Nines rattles off. "Series expanded to six hundred to encompass mathematics and physical science. WB five hundred: financial services."

"Yeah, WB sounds more like it. Personal or corporate?"

"Largely personal." Nines doesn't smirk, but he does cock his head slightly and his LED pulses a faster blue. "Apparently, many corporations did not trust a Cyberlife android to handle their finances without reporting or recording that information."

Gavin snorts. "Pretty obvious fucking plan for corporate espionage. Only thing dumber than that would be letting them work as cops, investigate Cyberlife, oh wow, coincidentally enough your Honor, we found that we did nothing wrong."

"Such a system would almost be as rife with corruption as your current state of Internal Affairs," Nines replies. "Or allowing police and prosecutors to work together."

"OK, message received, fuck off."

Nines goes silent. Gavin works on finishing off his coffee. Fucking weird that the android doesn't even have an idle motion or anything. He just stands still enough to blend in with all the rest of the furniture, even though someone that tall and jacked should definitely stand out in any crowd.

Then again, his traitor-brain helpfully supplies, Gavin has yelled at multiple partners for mouth-breathing or idly touching his shit. At least Nines isn't annoying.

"All right, here's what we're going to do." Gavin knocks back the rest of his coffee and sits up straight again. "I'll put in a subpoena request to check if any models on our list worked at Russell's company, then we'll head down and see what we can stir up."

"I have access to Cyberlife's order log," Nines says.

"Yeah?"

"It may no longer be accurate since the Revolution, but I can provide a list of android models and serial numbers sent to Synergy Paradigms."

"You can do that?" Gavin asks, trying hard not to sound too impressed.

Nines still manages to radiate smugness without even a facial expression, the asshole. "Yes. I was given access during my trial period to test that my internal servers could connect properly to the private RK network. It was never revoked."

Gavin raises an eyebrow. "That legal?"

"It has not been declared illegal."

His phone dings with a new message. It's a winking face. He looks back up at Nines, who still hasn't made anything even slightly resembling a facial expression.

"Cyberlife probably isn't going to be too happy with you going through their shit," he says.

"And what will they do?" Nines finally makes an expression, and it's terrifying. "Sue me?"

"I told you to cut it out with that fucking murder smile, dude."

Nines immediately drops the smile and stares at him without blinking like a repressed lizard.

"Still gonna request a subpoena on that shit, just in case. Always cover your own ass," Gavin tells him.

"I can put in the request faster," Nines says without any fucking gratitude for that excellent life advice.

"Yeah, great, and it'll get denied." Gavin rolls his eyes and pulls up the request form on his terminal. "Judge Klein always shoots down anything right before lunch because he's hangry. So I'm gonna type this out, then try to squeeze it into that one-thirty sweet spot after he's had lunch."

"Does he frequent the mexican restaurant two blocks from the courthouse?" Nines asks.

"Uh, yeah." He thinks about it for a second. "I think I've seen him in there."

"I can send him a coupon for free churros."

"Oh hell yeah. That's the kind of not-technically-bribery shit I like to see."

Nines pulls his lips back over his teeth for two horrible seconds. It's even worse when Gavin realizes that was supposed to be a smile, and somehow even worse than that when Nines blinks and looks down at his desk. Gavin's cellphone dings instead with a smiling emoji.

"Look, uh … good effort. But." Gavin stops and tries to think of how to explain smiling to someone. "Yeah. Yeah, that sucked. Isn't there some kind of program you can download for that shit?"

"Incompatible," Nines says immediately. "And I prefer communicating with your cellphone. It is more efficient. However, humans prefer … eye contact?"

He looks up from his desk and fixes Gavin with a stare that would melt a lesser man's balls.

"Hey, I'm good with the cellphone," Gavin says.

"Noted."

***

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25 / 26 / 27 / 28 / 29 / 30 / 31 / 32 / 33

I also have a Patreon for this fic, if you want to support me! $1 gets you access to chapters a week early, $2 gets bonus content and deleted scenes, and $3 gets short chapters from two AUs I’m writing: an A/B/O heatfic and reverse!AU

#reed900 #reed900 fic #dbh #dbh fic #gavin reed #writing #my writing #ch 4

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littlemessyjessi · 6 years

Text

“Feeling Stabby”: Connor Slaughter (Wolves) Imagine

Connor Slaughter Imagine Fall Imagines Connor Slaughter x Reader

Imagine carving pumpkins (pumpkin carving contest) with Connor...

If you were being honest...you wanted to slap Angel right about now.

Seconded only by your desire to choke Cayden.

Why?

Because those two shits had decided to stick you and Connor Slaughter together.

Explanations you say?

Well, after all the bullshit between Connor, Cayden and Angel and the whole kit and caboodle....they'd somehow managed to make peace between them.

Cayden and Connor were trying to have some kind of decent father-son relationship and hell, Cayden and Angel got on your damn nerves because they fucked like bunnies every chance they got.

It awkward as hell.

Oh, who am I kidding?

It was just fucking weird.

See, Connor had had a thing for you for a very long time.

And he hadn't exactly kept it a secret but you'd shut his ass down so fast and hard that he just backed off.

You were an aggressive little fucker with a big mouth, short temper and a tendency to stab if someone got a little too close for your liking.

Connor knew that had to be a big part of why he liked you so much.

You had fire and grit...and for someone like him...that was attractive.

So naturally, you were just unimaginably radiant to him as you sat there like an irritable little badger.

You did more ripping and stabbing to your pumpkin than you did gutting and carving...but that was alright by him.

He could feel the heat radiating off your skin in irritation from where he sat and he nearly choked to death just trying to keep down his laughter as you grumbled to yourself.

"Pumpkin carving....stupid....ridiculous tradition...fucking awkward bunnies...stupid oaf...stupid pumpkins....stupid Angel....stupid Cayden...stupid me." you grumbled as you lost your temper and promptly stabbed your pumpkin about five times in it's 'face' repeatedly.

Seeing your gritted teeth and pinched face made Connor finally lose his cool and he broke into a fit of laughter.

"Hey!" you said looking up at him with a furrowed brow and a knife thrust in his direction. "You shut it, Slaughter! Or I'll gut you..."

With another grumble you stabbed your poor excuse of a jack - o - lantern right through the top.

"Poor Jack." Connor chuckled and you just yanked the knife out again and swept it off to the side to make room for your next victim.

"Why did I have to come to this little 'family' outing?" you grumbled, stabbing your next pumpkin with enough ferocity that the woman next to you actually moved over some.

"Oh, relax." you said. "It's a pumpkin carvin contest. If you didn't want pumpkin guts on your precious shirt you shouldn't have worn it."

"I don't think it's pumpkin guts she's afraid of, sugar." Connor chuckled again.

You glanced at her and offered a hollow sorry before 'carving' a little less enthusiastically.

"And I think they made you come as a favor to me." he said, keeping his eyes on his carving instead of meeting your accusatory glance.

"I will use this." you threatened.

"Oh, calm down." he said. "It was their idea. Not mine."

"Yet I see you did not object." You said pointedly.

He glanced up at you, those vivid eyes of his dancing in the light.

"No, I didn't." he said.

"Why?" you questioned.

"You know why." he counted. "Look, I've never beat around the bush about this with you. I like you and you know it."

"Yeah, so?" you quipped.

"So, nothing." he said with a shrug.

"If it's nothing, then why am I being carted off to some fall festival and miraculously paired up with you for every. single. activity? you said lightly stabbing the pumpkin with the last three words.

"Because they're young." he said simply. "They'll learn that romantic movies with happen chance circumstances don't change if one party doesn't like the other."

"I never said I didn't like you...." you grumbled....in addition to more stabbing of the pumpkin.

Honestly, just poor pumpkin.

Connor's eyes snapped up, "Excuse me? What? You've tried to stabbed me on more than one occasion."

"Tried?" you narrowed your eyes. "I've suceeded a few of those times actually."

"Uh, yeah, I know. I'm the one with the scars." he said. "No one appreciates those little wolfsbane dips you do."

The mention of your blade coat and soaking agent brought an evil smirk to your face.

"Don't be a pussy." you said. "I knew it wouldn't kill you and you'd heal fast. You always do."

"It still fucking hurt." he said in disbelief and some irritation.

"Well, I had to test it somehow." you said shrugging your shoulders. "There aren't exactly very many pure breeds around here, Connor and if I'd stabbed someone else I might've killed them."

Connor just stared at you for a second.

You'd pissed him off, made him say something filthy to you and stabbed him solely for the purpose of testing out a new invention of yours.

Hell, if he wasn't so impressed he'd probably tear your damn head off.

Well, that and the fact that he loved you.

"Ok, so putting the topic of you stabbing me in the name of science for a just a second and you can bet your ass that we'll definitely be back to that....let's return to the original narrative." he said.

He moved both of the pumpkins over, took the knife away from you and took your hands.

"Do you have feelings for me?"

"Define feelings." you countered...squirming like the little worm you were being at the moment.

He leveled you with an unholy glare.

"I FEEL very irritated that you took my knife away..." you trailed off.

"Y/N."

"I feel very stabby."

"Y/N."

"I FEEL slightly enraged with Angel and Cayden because they are no where in sight and I feel like they've slunk off to be whores together again. Fucking bunnies...I swear to..."

"Y/N."

"I FEEL like I need to stab something again but I also FEEL angry because you took my knife!"

And with that statement you grabbed your scooping spoon and tried to stab his arms.

Connor's face was the epitome of done as he simple pulled your ass over the table, threw you over his shoulder and headed for less distractions.

"I'm FEELING very angry!" you said trying in vain to pummel him to death.

He eventually threw your ass in the bed of his truck, blocked your exits, pulled a bottle of water from the ice chest in the back and set it down in front of you.

"Are you ok?"

His sudden question threw you.

"You're getting skittish and excited." He pointed out. "I figure it's because you're over stimulated and you need some air. It's impossible to get anything out of you when you're like that."

"How did you know that?" you snapped though it was all bark and no bite.

Connor sat down on the gate of the truck and looked over at you.

"Honey, I've been in love with you for a long time." he said. "If I don't know anything else....I know you."

"That sounded very Edward Cullen of you." you said.

He rolled his eyes at your smart mouth.

"Now tell me." he said. "Do you have feelings for me or not?"

"I feel..."

"Don't start beating around the bush."

You threw the water at him, "Let me fucking talk!"

He stared at you for a moment and for a second, you wondered if you'd maybe pushed his final button.

"I feel...very strongly for you. I don't really know which direction it is in at the moment. I'll try to keep you posted." you said. "But...I feel like I like the deer meat that's the freezer at the moment and how it makes me feel taken care of."

Connor actually couldn't meet your eyes at that moment.

"I know you're the one who brings the kills from your hunts, Connor." you pointed out and damn if there wasn't a little rosyness to his neck at that comment. "No one else around here will make a move towards me or retaliate even if I initiate because they know you like me."

Nothing was said.

"I feel very safe around you despite the danger that seems to follow you." you said. "You're only wolf I know who would repeatedly let me stab them when I know you could easily take my head off without blinking. Sidenote...neither Cayden or Angel takes very well to that."

Connor snorted at your mouth....a welcome breather to the heavy topic.

"Who would take well to being stabbed, sweetheart?" he said.

You shrugged, "I didn't realize everyone was such delicate creatures."

He just chuckled.

"Honestly, Connor, like I said- I don't really know how I feel right now. I don't dislike you but I don't know that I'm just ready for romance or anything either." you admitted.

Connor was about to tell you that you could take all the time in the world.

But you opened your damn mouth again...

"I mean, I certainly wouldn't mind having you in my bed." you said. "Or on the couch...or the floor... or hey, are the safety brakes on in this thing?"

Connor fell back against the side of the truck laughing his ass off.

Only you.

You took advantage of the moment and sidled up next him.

Both of your backs pressed against the truck, legs stretched out in front of you both and sides pressed together.

"Maybe I like you a little." you admitted.

"Ok." Connor said when he'd finally sobered up. "I can work with a little."

"And maybe I want to be a little physical with you." you said.

"Ok, I can definitely get behind that." he said.

You slowly took his massive hand in yours and pulled it over to rest on your thigh.

"I'm weird so-"

"Yeah, I got that much."

You pounded your fist on his hand and squeezed it in momentary anger.

"I wasn't finished." you said. "As I was saying, I'm weird and I get a little odd about a bunch of PDA and I know you like that...but maybe just like gimme some time to get used to it?"

Connor didn't say anything and just brought your entwined fingers up to his lips for a little kiss.

"Sweetheart, take your time." he said. "I'm perfectly fine to sit here like this."

A few beats of silence passed.

"Though I'll admit I'm not opposed to the whole truck bed notion." he said.

An absolutely evil grinned ripped across your face and he let you pull him over until he was flat on his back.

You hopped up to sit on his waist and he let you play out your 'dominance' display.

"I got some rules." you said. "One, I really just wanna make out right now."

"Ok, done." he said. "Next?"

"I feel like you should lose that shirt of yours. You look awfully overheated. Poor Connor." you said and he smirked before removing said article of clothing.

"Three." you said. "I'm hungry now. I'm telling you this because when I've had my way with you and it's all done....I'll be starving. So I'm going to want to eat. We're going to need to plan for food....immediately after."

"Steakhouse?" he offered.

"Deal." you said.

And that my friends is how Connor Slaughter's truck rocked so hard that it flipped.

To this day, he won't get rid of it because he swears every dent was worth it.

Heeeeeeeeey, smoochies!!! I hope you enjoyed this imagine with the ever smexy Connor! I loved writing with this fiesty reader insert! She was such fun! Random, rage-y and really cute, lol. If you liked it please be sure to let me know in the comment section! If you want to see more like it please tell me! Happy Reading!!!

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Love, Kenny

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cal-puddies · 7 years

Text

the boys you do || calum hood

“Hey Cal… can I ask you a question?” you asked the person you considered one of your best friends for over 5 years now. He’s sat on a couch backstage, you were visiting on tour because you’d called last week and told Cal you just couldn’t possibly go another day without seeing his chubby cheeks. Cal chuckled at you, which you swore was your favorite sound, and then told you to come on out.

“You just did.” he chuckled, but patted the spot next to him, indicating you should sit. You roll your eyes, but take the spot. “Is that my flannel you’re wearing?” he asks, “How long have you had that. Hell it doesn’t matter, I’m pretty sure it looks better on you.” he shrugs.

You watch his eyes look you over, his lips turn up into a slight grin. You gracefully plop next to him. “This? I’ve had this for awhile. You gave it to me at your house one night because i kept complaining it was cold out. I just never gave it back to you.”

“Huh, you would have been dating Connor at that point. He’s never said anything about you wearing my shirt?” he cocks an eyebrow.

Connor was a sore spot for Calum, you clearly had a type: tall, handsome, darker skin and tattooed, Connor and Calum both fit it, but Connor had been the first to make a move. And Cal had spent the next two years regretting it, but still being his flirty self. Connor didn’t love it, but he couldn’t ask you to not be friends with Cal because that’s how you two had met. And he knew he’d be out the door before he finished the sentence.

“Shirts.” you correct. “He doesn’t love it, but he doesn’t usually say anything. He made that mistake once…” you chuckle.

“How is Connor?” Cal asks, looking over at you.

You shrug, “He’s good i guess.”

“You guess? You don’t even know how your boyfriend is?” he laughs, eyes crinkling.

“Well, he’s gone more than you are. And he can be hard to get a hold of. All i know is that when Connor is home, things are great. When Connor is on tour… well he might as well not even exist.” you shrug again. Connor was a tech, he'd worked with a lot of bands that you knew and were friends with.

“Why don't you go visit him?”

It's a logical question and you've prepared an answer for it. “He’s never able to spend any time with me. He always makes himself so busy, like i get it its his job, but i literally took time off from my job to come see you the least you could do is pay attention to me for five minutes.” you throw your hands up. “I mean look at you, you’ve already given me ten minutes!”

“I’ll give you all the time i can babe, you know i love having you here.” Cal wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into him for a hug.

“I know Cal, it's one of the many things I love about you.” You smile at him.

“Cal, we gotta go warm up.” Ash says, peaking his head in. He smiles and steps in the room, holding his arms out. “Hey you! Get in here!”

You quickly cross the room and fit yourself against Ash. “Hey.” You laugh into his chest, which is completely muffled.

“You're buzzing.” He laughs, giving you a squeeze and letting you go.

You pull your phone out and hold it up to Cal, “oh look! My boyfriend...”

“We'll let you take this in private!” Cal laughs.

“Have a good show!” You smile, smacking their asses as they pass by you.

“Watch those hands, babe!” Cal winks and disappears out the door behind Ash.

You press the answer button. “Hey Con.”

“Visiting Calum?” He asks. You can already tell by his tone that he's annoyed. “Babe, I would have made time if you came out.”

“Oh, like you always do, right? I'd love to see you Connor but every time I come out I see you for like an hour in the morning and couple hours after the show, and even then I can't get your attention…”

“That's not even true!”

“Think about it… literally every time I come out, every single time, I spend more time with the band or other crew members. I love it when your home, I love it when we can hang out, but that just doesn't happen when you're on tour. I miss you Con, but I'm tired of this too.”

Connor sighs. “Ok… what do you want to do? Can you think on it and we can discuss when we get home? I don't want you to just make a decision while you're there. You're different around them.”

“Connor…” you sigh. “Maybe it's you I'm different around.” You say it quietly. “We can talk when we get home.” Your run your fingers through your hair.

“Ok, yeah. When we get home. I love you.”

“Yeah bud, me too.” It wasn't that strange that you didn't directly say it back, it was very in you and Connor’s nature to gloss over it, but you did it on purpose, because you knew the reason he said it was because you were around Cal.

You hadn't understood why Connor was so jealous for a long time and then one night he flat out told you, Calum very obviously had feelings for you.

You denied it and kept denying it until you finally saw it. Cal was flirty with you in a way he wasn't with anyone else. Even right in front of Connor; that never changed how he acted.

“You're bunking with me tonight.” Cal mentions on the way back to the hotel.

Once you're back at the hotel, showered and getting ready for bed, you grab a pillow and the extra blanket and make your way to the couch.

Cal clears his throat and stares at you, waiting for you to look up at him. When you finally realize he was trying to get your attention, you turn to him. “What?” You laugh.

“It's a king size bed, I'm not gonna make you sleep on the couch.” He's standing on the other side of the room arranging the blankets. “We've shared a bed a million times. Get your butt over here.”

“Yeah… but Connor.” You shrug.

“I take it back, we've shared a bed at least a million times since you started dating Connor. It's never bothered you before.”

You stare back at Calum, you know he's right, so you grab the pillow and head back toward him. You toss it on the bed and sit, and Calum sits next to you.

“Cal…?” You whisper into the dark. You hear Cal move, he's turning on his side to face you, you think.

“Yeah?” He whispers back.

You roll onto your side and face him. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark enough that you can pretty well make him out. “Connor said… I'm different with you guys. He asked what I wanted to do and then told me to think about it and we'd talk when we were both home again. He didn't… he didn't think I should make a decision while I was here.”

“What'd you say?” Cal finds your hand and holds it, this is what he wanted to know about, what was bothering you.

“I said maybe he's the one I'm different around and told him I'd think about it. I just… don't know anymore. I feel like I barely know him.” You sigh. “And I never see him. Shit I don't really even know how I feel about him.”

He lets go of your hand and instead wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer. “What are you gonna do?”

You let out a long sigh. “Cry about it?” You chuckle. “What do you think…” you pause to gather your thoughts. “How do you know when it’s over?”

Cal is silent for awhile. He doesn't know what to say to that. But he comes up with something “Maybe when you feel more in love with your memories than the person right in front of you.” He lets out a little sigh. “I mean you've said it yourself, you just don't know anymore.”

“Do I just give up?”

Cal can hear that this is actually breaking you a little. “I think you ultimately have to decide what's best for you. But why do you want to keep hanging onto something that's obviously not making you happy?”

You nod your head, because you hear Cal and he's right. You place your hand on his cheek and lean the slightest bit up and forward to kiss his nose. “Thanks Cal.” You whisper.

“It's what I'm here for… and to pick up the pieces and make you smile when it hurts.” He assures.

“I think it's gonna hurt at least for a little while.”

“You know I'm gonna be there for you.” His hand that was holding you tightly against him, comes up and smooths your hair as he presses his lips to your forehead.

You end up on the tour for 3 weeks, you had originally only planned 4 days, but Calum was right and your boss didn't care.

You'd barely had time to run into your apartment and drop your bags before Connor got home himself. He knew instantly that something was off; Connor could read you like a book if in the right setting.

“Babe?” Connor calls into the apartment, dropping his bag among your own by the door.

Connor was a great roommate because he was hardly home. Actually most of the things that made him an ideal roommate, made him a shit boyfriend.

“Hey Con.” You say, coming down the hall from the bedroom.

Before you can even think it through, he was wrapping his arms around you and kissing you. “Missed you.” He whispers against your lips.

“Missed you bud.” You mumble back against his neck as he holds you.

“D’you just get home?” He asks, pulling away and gesturing toward the bags.

“Uhh, yeah. I extended my trip a little. Work didn't need me present in LA and you know I love to travel.” You shrug like it's nothing.

“But.. with Cal…?” Connor raises an eyebrow.

You cock your head and immediately get your bitch face ready. “You wanna go there?”

“I don't want to start a fight…” Connor holds up his hands.

“Well you're getting pretty close there bud.” You snark.

“Look, I just don't understand why in any situation you choose Calum over me. I know you guys are friends, I get that. But you guys have always been close and that's never changed, if you wanna be with Calum, be with Calum, let me go, don't string me along. I keep… hanging on like one day you're gonna see how good I am, but I've realized that if Cal is part of your life, I don't have a chance.” He huffs a bit. “I mean seriously… I bet you still shared a bed with him, cuddled up to him, were constantly hanging on him, and I'm half way across the world wishing I could get that from you. I don't want us to be over but I'm tired of Cal. I know it's not all you, he's never stopped paying you all the attention he always has, but… Maybe you were right, maybe it is me you're different around.”

“Connor…” you sigh, because he's right, except on one thing. “I don't know that I want Calum… I like Calum. He's a good guy, and a great friend and maybe we're too close to fully support having other relationships. Maybe that's why all him and I have ever had since we've been friends is hookups. But…”

He snorts, “you're fucking kidding me, right? Of course you want Calum. He's everything you go for. I know because he's similar to me. Maybe… maybe subconsciously this was your way of trying to date Calum without dating Calum. That way if it didn't work then you didn't lose your best friend. You'd just lose me.” Connor shakes his head, he shrugs and walks down the hall to the bedroom. Before he shuts the door he peeks his head back out, “decide what you want. But I'm not playing second to Calum anymore. If you want me, I've gotta be your number 1. And if Calum is what you want. Let me go. Please.” He loudly shuts the door to make his point.

You hear the pain ring through Connor's voice. He's always been good to you and undoubtedly you didn't really want to hurt him. But you heard him and you definitely heard Cal. You quickly cross the room to your bags and grab your phone from the pocket on your backpack.

You call Cal, knowing that no matter what came out of your mouth, he'd say yes. “Hello gorgeous.” He answers.

“I think I'm gonna need a place to stay. I'm pretty sure Con and I are breaking up.” You say quietly.

“You have a spare key, help yourself, I'll be home in a few days. Stay as long as you need. You ok?”

“Yeah, well… maybe. I can't wait for you to be home to talk this over.” You sigh.

All of a sudden Connor is front of you, he gives you that smart ass smirk that both him and Cal have perfected. “I'm out of the room for 20 seconds, we’re about to fucking break up and you're already on the phone with him.”

“I'll call ya back.” You say to Cal, you drop your phone to your side. “Connor…”

“No, that's fucking it. Go be with Calum. Stop wasting my time. I'm done. No second chance here kid. Because it's like the 150th chance. Things will never change between you two and I can't wait around for you.” He huffs. “Go pack your shit. I already know where you're running off to.”

You glance at your phone and see a few texts from cal, but you shove it in your pocket and head into you and Connor's room to start packing stuff.

It takes a couple hours, Connor goes between watching you and not being able to stand being in the same room as you. He'll watch you sort things, and then you'll come across something of Cal’s and he'll huff and leave the room, and return a few minutes later.

He has something to say, but he's clearly biting his tongue. As you're shoving the last few things in the bag he sighs and you finally snap, you whip around to face him. “What Connor? What is it that I'm doing that's pissing you off? I'm packing like you asked.”

“You're not even going to fight for me? You don't want to stay, at all? Like I'm feeling like I wasted two plus years.” He sneers.

“Look, I'm not gonna fight you on this because I'm not gonna stand here and make you promises I know I can't keep. I can't change my relationship with Calum. You knew what it was when we started dating. I like being friends with Calum. He's a good fucking person. So that's not going to change, and even if I was different towards Calum, he wouldn't be different towards me. Yes, I take his phone calls when all we're doing is hanging out at home… I don't take his calls when we're out, I don't respond to his messages, I don't just up and leave any time he asks me too. I take you into consideration. But it's apparently not the way you want. So no. I'm not gonna fight for you because what good is it gonna do? We're gonna be back here in three months when things don't change. If it was a girl that I was like this with, you wouldn't give two fucks”

“But it's not a girl, it's a guy who's your type who you have history with! I can't ignore that. I'm sorry. I've tried.” He's exasperated, his hands are flailing.

You're hands are on your hips and you're about to scream. “And for the record, I don't feel like I've wasted even a second on you.” You turn back to what you're doing.

“Whatever. Good riddance.” He sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed.

You zip the last bag and go stand in front of him. “I love you, this isn't what I wanted for us. But your feelings are valid, I get why you're upset. But again, I'm not going to make you a promise I can't keep. So here we are. I hope you have a good life and you find someone who gives you exactly what you want. I'm sorry it's not me.” You press a kiss to Connor’s cheek and leave the room. You take the apartment key off your key ring and leave it on the table by the door and then head to Cal’s.

You text Cal and let him know that you're there and you'll talk when he gets home. You need time to process.

Connor texts you the next day, but you ignore it. He's trying to apologize. But you feel like everything's been said, and you're done. Everything is done. It's what you wanted anyway, just not the way you'd thought it'd go down.

You spend the next couple days making yourself at home in Ashton's old room.

Cal comes home, you don't know he's home or even calling for you because you're sat at the desk you'd gotten for the room working on stuff for work with your headphones on. Calum stands in the doorway until you notice him, which didn't take long. You pull the headphone off and immediately jump out of the chair.

“You're home!” You quickly cross the room and jump into Cal's waiting arms, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“You doing ok?” He whispers, holding you tight against him as he sways a little.

You nod your head and Cal sets you on your feet. “Yeah… yeah. It's what I wanted anyway, right?”

Cal nods. “You could've holed up in my room.” He grabs your hand and starts pulling you back toward the living room. “I brought dinner with me. Hope you're hungry.”

“Starving! And you brought Thai. You are the best of the best.” You smile at him. “And I chose to take the empty room because I won't be able to move out until the lease is up…” you look to Calum, worried that he might not be cool with you staying that long.

“As long as you need. You know I'll be gone again in a couple weeks anyway.” He shrugs. “I brought wine and there's ice cream in the freezer too.” He smiles.

You grab plates from the kitchen and Cal is pouring wine. “We need to talk about something.” You set the plates on the counter and turn to face him.

“What's up?” He hands you your glass of wine and takes a sip of his own.

“So Connor…” you start and Cal holds up his hand so you stop.

“I heard what he said, after you said you'd call me back. He told you to go be with me…?”

“He… uh… he has a theory.” You look down into your glass and Cal takes the chance to move closer to you. “He said we've always been too close… that things” you sigh, “that things never changed between you and I when i started dating him. You were still my number 1. And you always flirted too much.” You pause and now notice Cal is inching closer. He rests his left hand on the counter behind you, and stands close.

“What's his theory?” Cal asks. He sets his glass down and his other hand rests on the other side of you, against the counter. You've been close like this with Calum a thousand times at parties and just hanging out, but the sexual tension surrounding you two is at an all time high.

Your eyes flick from his lips, where he's using his tongue to wet them, to his eyes, and he's practically staring into your soul.

“He thinks I only dated him because I wanted to know what it'd be like to date you, without losing you.” You're voice is so quiet it's practically a whisper and you notice his eyes were watching your lips.

Cal steps closer, pressing himself against you. “Is that what you wanted? You wanted… me?”

“Well, we both know you're my type…” you don't want to give him a direct answer, for fear of rejection. But as close as he is, and as much as he's watching your lips…

“Say it babe.” He whispers. “Say you want me and I'm yours. I've wanted you for so long.” his lips are moving less than an inch from yours and it starts a fire inside. One of Cal's hands presses into your back, eliminating any space between the two of you and you immediately close the distance between your lips. “It killed me to watch you with him.” He admitted against your lips. Cal's hands reached down and grabbed your thighs, he sets you on the counter.

“Why didn't you say anything?” You ask, pulling back.

“I didn't realize I had feelings for you until I saw you with him and then you seemed happy so I didn't want to get in the way of that.” He shrugs.

“Well, I want you.” You admit. Cal immediately snaps back into action. Lips coming back into contact with yours.

masterlist

#calum hood #calum imagine #5sos imagine #but cal #cass #the boys you do #connor #boyfrined!cal

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