#unwind connor imagines

[heliads]

love is stored in the sonata

Connor Lassiter thought he'd stop hearing the Graveyard's piano once Risa Ward left. Y/N L/N may prove him wrong. It does not hurt him as much as he thought it would. Far from it, actually.

masterlist

Connor Lassiter almost thinks he’s hallucinating when he first hears the piano.

It’s not that he’s so far removed from any semblance of humanity that the possibility of culture and art is obscene; despite what Proactive Citizenry would like to argue, AWOLs aren’t gremlins nor creatures of destruction only. Connor can stand to hear a melody. He just isn’t used to it. Not here.

Certainly not since Risa was abducted. The piano did not desiccate into ash and dust when she left, and the fact that she’s being held hostage somewhere unknown to Connor does not glue all the keys in place nor stop them from being played. Every Unwind here has the capability to bang out a tune if they so desire. They just don’t, either out of respect to Risa’s memory or perhaps a lingering fear that someone will see a prodigy in their fingers and try to carve the skill out of their digits themselves.

Connor stands motionless in the shadow of a grounded jet, listening to the chords echo off of the rusting metal. It kind of feels like he’s being haunted by the Ghost of AWOL Girlfriends Past, even though he and Risa never agreed on anything of the sort. However, referring to the lingering feeling of wrongness nestled between his lungs and ribs as just, like, the Ghost of Crushes He Thought He Had but Maybe That’s Just What Happens When The Only People You See On A Daily Basis Are A Tithe, Roland, And One Token Girl, is way too many words.

So, Girlfriends Past works. Kind of. Not really. What does work properly around here, though? The Graveyard lives up to its name. Kids come here carrying with them only the memories of when they understood what was going on around them. You can find a job to do, and you can like it enough to make the days pass by until you survive to seventeen, but it’ll never fit you like anything did before you came here. Functionality is best. It doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to keep you alive.

Connor thinks this mysterious piano player might have to agree. He can hear occasional slip ups in the music, nothing too jarring but still there if you care to listen. He is, of course, hanging onto every note like it’ll save him from all of the Juvey-cops combined, so he listens. 

This, if nothing more, is how he knows it isn’t Risa. Risa always stopped when she made a mistake, every single time. Even if it was something as simple as a skipped rest or one forgotten flat. It was like she was looking for excuses to point out her imperfections, subconsciously proving that StaHo Ohio 23 was right to kick her out.

By contrast, this latest would-be maestro just doesn’t care. They could actually be flawless, or they could just be human. Either way, the melody keeps going. Connor decides that he likes it better that way, which is pointless, because the music doesn’t need his approval. It’s also kind of mean to Risa’s legacy, but Connor’s mind is still Connor’s with or without Risa there, and he likes the melody with accidental sharps instead of flats regardless.

Impulsively, Connor slips out from his hiding place underneath the jet, searching around for the distant sound of chords until they get louder. It reminds him of being at a public pool when he was younger, playing a game with his brother. Marco. His footsteps seem to crash through the relative quiet of the Graveyard; everyone else has ceased work for the evening, but he’s here anyway. Polo. The piano sounds out a path for him to follow.

He takes one last turn and then it’s there right in front of him. The piano has gotten a little dustier since it first appeared out of nowhere in the airplane junkyard, but they’ve all attempted to clean it off every now and then. A figure is seated at the bench, and after a moment of squinting, Connor recognizes them. Y/N, Y/N L/N. They’d arrived recently, all things considered. They never knew Risa but they know him. Isn’t that better?

They lay off playing abruptly when Connor steals too close. “Sorry,” they murmur, eyes wide, “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Connor shakes his head quickly. “No, no. Keep going.” He realizes belatedly that sounds a little harsh. “If you want to, of course.”

They crack a cautious smile. “You sure? I can pick up another time if it’s disturbing people’s work or sleep.”

Connor glances back at the slumbering hulks of metal and flight machinery behind him. “No, I think they’ll be glad for it. It’s been a while since we’ve heard someone play.”

Y/N’s expression turns bleak. “Yeah, I heard about that. Risa Ward used to play this piano, right?”

They start to draw their hands back from the keys. Connor reaches out an arm, as if to physically drag them to the ivories once more. “She used to, but you do now, right? Don’t let her stop you.”

Y/N blinks up at him, and Connor is starting to wonder if he can perhaps call a parts pirate to just take him away now forever when they smile again, cautious and sweet, and put their fingers back on the keys. Good.

Connor leans against the curve of the piano, and he lets the music vibrate through the instrument and into him. If he tries, he thinks he can feel it pressing against his bones, his blood, his organs, invisible surgeon’s hands not trying to dissect him, just to remind him that he is still alive. This is almost the opposite of unwinding. It feels as if he is being put back together.

A few minutes, or perhaps centuries of unadulterated time, later, Connor registers that the music has ceased. He’s not sure how long ago Y/N stopped playing, nor when his eyes closed, but perhaps everything has always just been in his head, anyway.

He looks over at Y/N, who is looking at him, and he is struck by the magnitude of all the things he wants to say. He should compliment them on their skill, or at least appreciate their courage for playing when people like him could hear, but instead of anything good or at least neutral, he coughs once, and asks, “Am I being weird?”

Y/N laughs, easy and clear. “No, you’re not. Really, you’re not,” they add, upon Connor’s face twisting doubtfully. “I’m glad to know someone likes it. It would be more weird if everyone thought I was terrible but they were all too afraid to say something about it.”

Connor chuckles. “Well, there’s no chance of that, trust me. If they try to complain, I’ll fight them off.”

Y/N grins. “Well, if you’re going to be my guard, you might as well stay. You can sit, if you want,” and they gesture to the empty space next to them on the piano bench.

Connor stares uncomprehendingly at the open spot, and then moves cautiously to sit down by their side. They almost touch, and the ghost of that would-be contact makes him feel far more alive than if their shoulders were pressed all the more firmly together.

“Another song?” They ask him.

“Please,” he answers, and the fingers are placed upon the keys once more.

Connor tilts his head back, staring up at the sky. He imagines what it would feel like to leave this body, this world, behind, and soar all the way up to the sky. He could leave these fears and dangers behind, these rumors of parts pirates and Juvey-cops and parents who did not want him enough to keep him. Listening to Y/N’s music, he thinks he is halfway there already.

unwind tag list: @schroedingers-kater, @locke-writes

#unwind #unwind dystology #unwind imagines #unwind x reader #unwind oneshot #unwind fanfic #unwind dystology imagines #unwind dystology x reader #unwind dystology oneshot #unwind dystology fanfic #connor lassiter #connor lassiter imagines #connor lassiter x reader #connor lassiter oneshot #connor lassiter fanfic #unwind connor #unwind connor imagines #unwind connor x reader #unwind connor oneshot #unwind connor fanfic

[dragonsdendoodles]

“Your point?”

“Just that you’re not the only one who thinks the Admiral needs some… restraining.”

#unwind #unwind dystology #connor lassiter #roland taggart #i hate that my brain imagines roland looking like finlay macmillan #roland is far too creepy for that he doesn’t deserve it #yes it is because he reminds me of movie enoch leave me alone #fucking hate roland i’m so glad he dies #dragon’s doodles

[gustavofringishot]

unwind characters and if theyd see oppenheimer or barbie

connor: oppenheimer bc i imagine him to be interested in him as he had a similar story to janson rheinschild (the guy who made unwinding)

risa: barbie

lev: oppenheimer first and barbie second and he watches each with connor and risa respectively (he liked barbie more)

grace: both

argent: oppenheimer

starkey: oppenheimer but he would completely miss the point and probably start worshiping him

bam: watched oppenheimer with starkey and facepalmed so hard when he missed the point

cam: barbie hes just a barbie gurl i know it (and bc thats what risa is watching)

hayden: he thinks barbie is peak cinema

nelson: oppenheimer

admiral: oppenheimer

mai: she secretly loves barbie

roland: chapter 61 skill issue (jk hed watch oppenheimer bc he thinks barbie is too girly but hed probably find oppenheimer boring anyway)

oh and divan would watch oppenheimer bc he thinks it's fascinating

these are all of the characters i can think of sorry if its not accurate im tired rn

#unwind dystology #connor lassiter #lev calder #risa ward #hayden upchruch #mason starkey #roland taggart #barbenheimer

[leafydinosaur]

i don't really HATE cam because i know he didn't wish to be "born" but he literally needs to understand that risa doesn't like him back. the whole love triangle reminded me of twilight because cam literally cannot comprehend that risa is in love with connor and not him. kinda like jacob can't understand that bella loves edward also the meet up scene in unsouled where connor and risa reunite is so anticlimactic. i literally almost cried because i imagined the reunion to be like them hugging and kissing and crying. it's probably unrealistic for them to cry because they don't really seem like criers, but i would literally sob my eyes out if i saw my lover again after a year. the way connor calls risa his girlfriend is so cute AHAHABDHJBJD smh where's my connor to my risa

if there are any unwind fans still out there, lmk!!!

#unwind #neal shusterman #risa ward #connor lassiter #undivided #unsouled #lev calder

[robotstrategy]

Recalled • Part 5 • 38 - Lev

Previous • Series Masterlist • Part 5 Masterlist • Next

Lev sits out on the front porch, spreading his arms wide so that Lawu may crawl on them. By now, it seems like Connor has been radio silent for a year. There’s no secret internet stuff dumb enough for him to figure out, no letters from cousin Carl. At this point, Lev would have actually forgotten about Connor if Elina hadn’t been there to ask him if he’d heard anything. 

“Do you think he died?” Lev asks his Kinkajou, Lawu lays himself down, nestling into Lev’s arm.

“I don’t want to think about it either.” 

A gust of wind comes in, it smacks Lev’s earpiece against his cheek, and he winces a little before the pain disappears. Many of the qualities he had to learn on the Rez were humility, forgiveness, and patience. Yet it seems like his patience might be running out soon. Before, he would have stayed here peacefully, spending the rest of his days with Kele and the others. But after a while, it seemed like he would always end up in Connor's net somehow. So why not now? Why won’t something come along and face him back in Connor’s direction? Lev sets the sleeping Lawu back in his little house before heading back inside. Every once in a while Lev opens the door to Wil’s room, wondering if somehow his spirit is still in there. Lev thinks Wil would’ve had something to tell him, maybe even Una, but both of them are gone now. Lev always found it funny that Una went to Molokaï with Cam, he supposes it takes two non-clinical minds to help raise 50 Rewinds.

Lev sits down in his room, beading together an ornate necklace for Elina. Somedays Lev likes to think he was born a Tashi’ne, to imagine himself as a young boy running around the Rez. But that’s not how the story goes, unfortunately, Lev was raised for death and had to escape it. Many times he doesn’t think he did, but here he is, breathing, hearing, sitting, and beading together a necklace. After a while, Lev turns to his alarm clock and plays around with it until he finds the radio button. It always first tunes into Arápache’s own radio station before Lev can start upping or lowering the signal. Today Lev looks for a certain radio station, he starts cranking the knob on the back of the radio. It’s a flutter of static between the radio from the Arápache to the Hopi and any other tribe in the surrounding area. Advertisements about upcoming Powwows, they’re quite fun actually, seeing all the Chancefolk’s interesting regalia as they all dance competitively.

Lev knows he’ll get the right radio station, he’s done it before, Hayden’s radio show somehow can get to almost anyone in the world. Even in dictatorships, it will somehow sneak in.

After a while, he hits a radio station playing ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin.’ By Frank Sinatra, a clear sign he’s tuned the radio correctly.

Lev puts the clock back down, continuing his beading, soon enough the music dies down into Hayden’s radio jingle.

“Good afternoon everyone, welcome back! And if you’re new here, Hi! I’m Hayden! Here we talk about information about unwinding around the world. Today we have big news! I’ve just gotten info that Mexico and Hawaii have vetoed the Unwind Bill, and South America is currently considering if they’ll vote back in the bill, I hope they don’t. Unfortunately, we’re still seeing a big influx of American parents travelling with juveniles to Canada. It seems like until we cut off that hydra head it’ll keep swallowing kids.”

Lev pauses what he’s doing for a moment, people are still travelling to Canada to get their children unwound. Lev wonders if even when Canada vetoes the bill will people even stop? Maybe they’ll just find another place to keep the process going. Seems like all that protesting, all that self-immolation, it does nothing. Even when unwinding is over, people will find ways to get it done. If parents aren’t the ones paying shady people, then there’ll be millions of folktales teaching not to go out at night or a part pirate might steal you away. 

Lev has been mostly drowning in his thoughts until something Hayden says piques his interest.

“So, there’s this kid Connor knew who now lives on a reservation, his name is Lev? I’ve met him once in the graveyard, he’s the clapper who didn’t clap, there you go! That’s a better idea of him! Anyway, if someone can get in contact with him, or if he’s listening right now, I’d like to talk to him. I’ve got good news.” You can hear a smile in Hayden’s voice as the jingle drowns it out back into music.

Is this it? Did somebody finally find Connor? Lev picks up his phone, careful not to put any typos into the search bar. He rapidly goes through Hayden’s website and dials up the phone number. There are a few empty rings before someone picks up.

“Hello, you’ve reached Hayden Upchurch, h-” “DO YOU KNOW WHERE CONNOR IS?”

There’s a giggle on the other end of the line. “You’re Lev aren’t you?”

Lev blushes out of embarrassment, “Yes, this is about Connor right?”

“Yup, tried to keep it vague enough. I’d hoped you’d be more interested in the news than the first person I told.”

“Who was that?”

“I don’t think you’d know him, but he knew Connor, maybe a little too much. They say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer!”

Lev cringes. “So do you know where Connor is or are you just going to do this?”

“Not the small talker? I get it. I’ve found Connor in Marseille, France, he goes by Robert Saltries now.”

“Have you been talking to him?”

“No, I’d get charged for that, and by the looks of it Robert is running an unwind safe house, I wouldn’t want to pull any attention towards him.”

“Right, it’s just, that I feel abandoned, like I’m his friend, and I wasn’t told anything about where he was going.”

“I feel that too, I’m as much of Robert’s friend as you are, and I was never told anything either.”

“You hacked into something to find him didn’t you?”

“A school’s system, it felt wrong, really wrong.”

“I guess he hid himself very well.”

“I guess he did.”

Lev pauses, “If anything ever comes up, you’ll tell me about it, won’t you?” 

“Of course!”

“Goodbye, Hayden.”

“Goodbye, Lev.”

And that’s it, that’s all, Lev is no closer to seeing Connor, but at least he knows he’s alive under a different name. Lev gets back to beading the necklace for Elina like nothing ever happened.

#unwind #unwind dystology #unwind fanfic #unwind series #sequel fic #hayden upchurch #lev tashi'ne #lev calder #lev garrity #connor lassiter

[lazysailor]

I don’t know why but I like to think Lev got a growth spurt inbetween unwind and unwholly

I just imagine he was shorter than Connor and Risa in the beginning of unwind because obviously he just turned thirteen while Connor and Risa are 15 and 16 (that may be wrong but eh). Then whenever when they see Lev again in unwholly (if they do, I haven’t read unwholly all the way yet.) he’s like close to the same height as Connor.

#This is just a headcanon of mine #May draw this idea eventually #Unwind #unwind dystology #God i need to get back to reading the unwind series #This is most likely not canon

[bopeisdope]

Unwind au where Connor sees the ghost of Roland after he gets unwound and Roland follows him through the rest of the books.

It's like Ben and Klaus from the Umbrella Academy except they hate eachother's guts

Oh and Roland's got scars all over him and is missing the arm that is on Connor.

I imagine they would be enemies through most of the books but then gets better in undivided when Connor gets captured. There would be a moment when Connor would finally make peace with him. Roland would be there for him and talk to him while he gets unwound in Divan's machine. Then when rewound Connor wakes up Roland would be gone.

I'm not a big fan of Roland but I think this would give the opportunity for redemption and insight into his character.

Thoughts??

#unwind #unwind dystology #connor unwind #connor lassiter #roland unwind #roland taggart

[julysn]

les is literally so conrisa core. NO GUYS HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT IM NOT BEING DELUSIONAL

like some of the lyrics . the chorus in itself is giving the happy jack bathroom kisses :sob: 😔 honestly me and who. me and who

also the bridge lowk reminds me of connor at the beginning of unwind when he was unhinged and a lil silly. like imagine he knows that he’s not the best person ever and he’s a piece of shit …

it’s the lack of sleep getting me i fear

#julysn #julias thoughts #juliathinks #juliaunhinged #I NEEDTO SLEEP #I NEEDSLEEP #unwind dystology #Spotify

[thefoxtrot008]

The Reader's Blog

Me, trying to convince you guys to read The Unwind series (by Neal Shusterman) based on the playlist I made for it and this meme alone;

Something Real (Post Malone) "So tell me how the fuck am I still alive, it's a miracle" "I would trade my life just to be at peace" "It's a double-edged sword cutting' off ties with the ones I know" I feel like this one would be good if they made like a movie/tv show about it, and they pan to different point of views at the very end of it. I think it would be cool.

2. Litlost (X Ambassadors) Um... literally the entire song is lit and a vibe. It's pretty sad though, which fits the whole series. (fair bit of warning: you might need tissues) "And your grandfather clock is still ticking, but the chime never rings" "And I'll never be whole again" "What have I done? With my heart on the floor, I must be out of my mind."

3. The Phoenix (Fall Out Boy) "So, we can take the world back from a heart attack one maniac at a time we will take it back." "Doesn't it feel like our time is running out?" For this one, (I'm not gonna be specific because of spoilers) but that whole fight scene in book 2, would be great. Or in book 3, when they start to take over the camps.

4. The Kids Aren't Alright (Fall Out Boy) "blessed be the boys time can't capture" "I'm not passive but aggressive, and I still feel that rush in my veins. All the people in those old photographs I've seen are dead." This could be the theme song. For reals.

5. Clocks (Coldplay) "The lights go out and I can't be saved, tides that I tried to swim against, have brought me down upon my knees" "Cursed missed opportunities, am I part of the cure, or am I a part of the disease? Singin'"

6. Devil I Know (Allie X) "I want to, wanna get free" "But you bring me down to my knees when push comes to shove" Could be used when kids get rounded up by the police and they try to fight or run.

7. Hopeless Opus (Imagine Dragons) "It's not a picture perfect life, not what I had in mind" "Let me write my own line, I've got this place that I've filled with empty space"

8. Paradise (Coldplay) "In the night, the stormy night, away she'd fly; and dream of para-para paradise" For this one, again, perhaps another theme song? Maybe it's what every AWOL kid secretly wishes for.

9. Can't Feel My Face (The Weeknd) "And I know she'll be the death of me, at least, we'll both be numb" I think this one is kinda funny to add. I think it would be good to use it, because it would sort of show the opposite side of the problem, those that think unwinding is good. Maybe if they show the adds like they do in the books, then this song could be a background song to it. Who knows.

10.. Eat Your Young (Hozier) "There's money to be made, whatever's still to come." "Come and get some, skinning the children for a war drum." "It's quicker and easier to eat your young." For some reason, this song makes me think of the fancy parts-pirate in book 5.

11. Ends and Begins (Labrinth) "I hear your name, I hear a melody, I'll never forget, ah. 'Cause it's carved in my memory. Ah, forevermore. And infinity, ah." "Like a brand-new start, baby" So, this one would be PERFECT for the end scene in book 5. I also think that it's perfect for all the main characters. Lev, Risa, Connor, and Hayden. Their names will go down in history. Especially after everything they've all been through. That'll all I've got to say.

AND THAT'S ALL FOLKS! Let me know if you do end up reading this series, it's amazing! Or if you have any thoughts on any of these artists!

#I killed this #I understood the assignment #unwind series #songs #sci fi

[heliads]

Your fics are amazing!! I especially love the Unwind ones! :) Can I request an angsty what-if fic where Connor doesn't go deliver his letter and is there when Nelson finds the antique shop? I don't know how specific you want me to be in my request, but a fight scene between Connor and Nelson would be cool (Nelson deserves to be punched). Thank you!

yes...YESSSSS

'guess that's growing up' - connor lassiter

masterlist

warnings: blood, violence, death

Five years ago, if you had asked Connor Lassiter where he thought he’d end up in life, he wouldn’t have said the basement of an antique shop. He certainly wouldn’t have expected to be in that same basement twice in the span of a few years. Life has a way of throwing you a few curveballs. It isn’t Connor’s fault if he can’t help but follow their winding paths until he ends up exactly where he started.

It isn’t like he’s back to square one. It can’t be, after all the friends he’s made and lost. Still, it’s hard to shake the feeling that he keeps getting dragged back home. As a kid, he’d always dreamed of running away and making it big, and then he’d actually had to run away when he found out he was going to be unwound. Now he’s back in Ohio, and although Connor finally has a hope for the end of unwinding thanks to the Rheinschild organ printer, he knows as surely as anyone that if this doesn’t work, the last of his luck might finally have run out. He was born here almost eighteen years ago, and he might just die here too.

Connor tries to keep his emotions light, but it’s hard, especially after being stuck in Sonia’s basement for far too many days. It took forever for them to leave the first time, and now he’s wondering how long they’ll spend trapped inside the lightless cellar now. Maybe someone will come down here decades in the future and find his old, brittle bones propped up in a corner someplace, the Akron AWOL reduced to a skeleton with a white, wiry beard like in the cartoons he used to watch as a kid.

So no, he’s not exactly doing a great job of staying optimistic, but it’s hard to get up the energy to converse with the other scared unwinds down here when he knows how this is going to end. It’s not his first rodeo. Nothing gets better before it gets worse again. Why take the time to memorize everyone’s name and favorite color if they’re just going to get ripped apart again in a matter of months? Connor might as well spare himself the heartache. If they do get unwound after all, some future client would probably appreciate it if Connor’s heartstrings were tugged as little as possible.

It’s not a funny thing to think about, but Connor’s sense of humor has gotten increasingly jagged and sarcastic as of late, if it wasn’t already bitter in the first place. When he tries to be funny, he just ends up cutting to the bone. He’s not Hayden. He’s never been good at making the jokes land when he needs them the most.

Hell, maybe that’s what’s unsettling him the most about being back here. If it weren’t enough to see the same familiar shadowy walls and low ceiling (look, there’s the place he gouged his initials in the corner two years ago), Connor has to do all of it not only with new faces but with the ghosts of the former ones. 

Thinking about who had been here with him before makes his stomach roil with guilt and regret. Roland is unwound now; Connor has his arm and is starting to understand his surly temperament, his gut reaction to snap at everything around him instead of smiling. Mai became a clapper and blew up Happy Jack; Lev was there with her, chemicals in his veins, but saved himself when she didn’t. Hayden is still alive, hopefully, although Connor hasn’t seen him in ages; he misses Hayden’s sense of humor most of all.

The only repeated characters in the basement are Risa and himself, but even they are so fundamentally transformed from who they’d been at the start that they could be different people entirely. Connor isn’t sure that he’s at all recognizable as Connor Lassiter anymore. He has the same skin, or most of it, but that’s the end of the similarities. Connor is left wondering how everything changed so drastically over two years, which leaves him in a state of hazy dread.

And then, of course– well, there’s the letter, and that blows everything else out of the water.

Sonia still has his letter, the one she’d had him write to his parents when he first showed up at her antique store. All of the notes from past unwinds she’s harbored are still here. The thought unsettles him more than Connor would care to admit. Even if the kids who wrote them are long since stripped of their parts, dead and gone or maybe somehow still alive, their writing is still here. He wonders if his handwriting has changed since he wrote it last. If Connor saw a few sentences of his letter, could he recognize it as his own, or is even that last hallmark of the boy he’d been gone from him forever?

Connor can’t help but obsess over every detail. It’s hard not to when Sonia keeps bringing it up. He’s not sure if she thinks he’s dramatically different from the boy he’d been, but she must want him to return to that former version of himself somehow, because she’s offered for him to hand deliver the letter to his parents. In fact, she seems rather put off by the fact that he hasn’t leapt at the chance.

It’s not the first time in his life that Connor doesn’t have the right answer, and just like every other impossible choice, Connor isn’t even sure that there is a right way to go about this. He can take his letter to his parents, the people who had him unwound in the first place. He can be the bigger person and forgive them for wanting him clinically dismembered. Maybe, after time, they’ll even be able to move on from it and grow back together again.

Or, far more tempting still, Connor can let his resentment stand as firm and impenetrable as a fortress. This is the choice that calls to him the most. Why should he forgive them? It’s up to his parents to reach out to them first, even if they have no idea if he’s still alive nor how to contact them. Connor is not the one who wanted his own flesh and blood unwound. There’s no reason for the responsibility of breaching the immovable gap between himself and his family to fall on his shoulders.

Still, the Objective Right Thing to do is to give them the letter. Connor knows this, in a shifting, sinking feeling in his stomach, like when you tell your first big lie as a kid even though you know it’s wrong. Connor should meet his parents again. Probably.

Problem is, he doesn’t want to. The anger may not be as white-hot as it had been when Connor first found out he was going to be unwound, but it’s still there, simmering beneath his skin like a stovetop that wasn’t turned off properly. He isn’t going to burn down the house, not yet, but the possibility is there.

Risa would support him in this, Connor knows that. She immediately advocated against it, citing the immense risk posed by leaving their hiding place in Sonia’s basement. She doesn’t know the conflict in Connor’s heart quite as well as the terror of getting caught by the Juvenile Authority, though. She never had a family to love and loathe like this, and although Connor hates to say it, this will be the one time her advice won’t be as picture perfect as usual.

Sonia can sense this hesitation, and she’s been even pushier than usual in an attempt to convince him to visit his parents. At one point earlier today, Connor was helping her bring down some groceries when she asked him again when he was planning on leaving.

“I’m not going,” Connor had complained angrily, and immediately felt like a kid throwing a temper tantrum because his favorite shirt was in the wash or something stupid like that. So many unwinds here would kill for a chance to see their parents again, and here he is practically frothing at the mouth at the thought of it.

Sonia had raised her eyebrows at that, but said nothing, for once. Connor had lugged the last of the bags down and sat in silence, fuming, until he finally cooled off again. He feels bad for snapping at Sonia like that, especially when she’s risking her life for him by harboring unwinds right underneath her shop, but not bad enough to deliver the letter.

Sonia doesn’t usually check up on them during the day, electing to preserve her ruse by manning the counter of the antique shop, so Connor assumes he’ll have all day to practice an apology before she checks up on them after closing time. Maybe he’ll write her a letter. He could both thank her for shoving him in her basement for so many weeks and also say he’s sorry for being an ass. He probably owes a lot of people similar letters. He’s been an ass many times.

Connor is idly monitoring the sounds upstairs, waiting to tell when Sonia will come down again so he can have his statement ready, when he first hears the loud thump. Noise isn’t uncommon up above; customers buying large objects can be heard huffing and puffing as they drag their purchases to the door. However, this sounds wrong. The voices Connor makes out through the dusty floorboards don’t sound like people ogling antiques. One of them sounds cruel, and the other, Sonia, sounds distorted somehow, unlike herself. They’re too quiet for him to hear, but none of it can be good. Then Sonia lets out a cry of pain, and Connor knows for certain that something is wrong.

All of the other runaways in the basement perk up. Fight or flight senses are always amplified among AWOLs. Connor silently gestures for them to back away from the cellar entrance, holding a finger to his lips. This could be a Juvey-cop, so they can’t risk exposing Sonia through too many sounds. Risa picks up a wrench, testing its weight experimentally, and Connor and the others follow suit. Whatever’s going on up there, it can’t hurt to have a weapon.

They wait in tense, painful silence, and then there’s a softer thump from above as the rug is flipped off of the trapdoor and Sonia shouts down for Lev of all people to come up and help her with something. Lev isn’t here, he hasn’t been near Sonia’s shop at all. Sonia knows this, and she’s well aware that the kids know this, too.

Connor’s eyes widen as he puts it together. This is a trap, obviously. Risa, sensing the same thing, grabs a small, blond kid (Jack, maybe? Connor tried not to learn their names. Unfamiliarity makes it easier to lose them) and starts to push him up the stairs, promising that she’ll be right behind him. Connor moves to join her but Risa stops him with a single harsh look.

“Don’t you dare even poke your head out,” she urges in a terse whisper. “Whoever’s here is probably only looking for you. Don’t make a sound.”

Connor would like to argue with this, but he knows she’s right. Odds are somebody saw him through a storefront window or something after closing. It’s not right to let Risa fight his battles for him, but maybe the intruder will leave if they don’t see the Akron AWOL. It’s not lost on him that Risa and the blond boy might get taken away anyway all for the sake of covering for him, but Risa’s not taking no for an answer, and she’s gone within a moment.

Connor paces back and forth, unsuccessfully trying not to let his panic show. Beau, one of the latest wannabe top dog types, starts prying at a window in the back, which is good. Odds are, they’ll need a second way out of here than just the trapdoor. Connor is about to pitch in and help when he hears a gunshot up above, followed by an agonized cry by Risa, and then all bets are off. Risa’s plea for him to stay hidden is gone from his head. If his worst fears are true– if she was shot, if she was dead– nothing matters anymore.

Connor bounds up the stairs two at a time, emerging into utter chaos. The blond kid is crumpled on the ground, a mess of blood and gore coating his chest. A grungy man is standing over his body holding a real gun, not just a tranq. Risa is beating him with a wrench, but he throws her off of him the second Connor appears. The man’s face cracks into a leering grin, and Connor realizes that he knows this man. It’s Nelson, the cop he shot so long ago.

Worse than that, it’s not just Nelson. Half of his face has been replaced with unwound flesh. Connor discovers with a sickening lurch of his stomach that he knows the donor, too. That’s the good side of Argent Skinner’s face isn’t it? Come to think of it, Connor hasn’t seen Grace in a little while, too. He silently hopes she’s alright, then shuts off every part of his brain that isn’t wired to defend himself. Nelson looks crazy. He has to be ready for anything.

Nelson lets out a slow, cackling laugh. “Connor Lassiter. In the flesh.”

“Nelson. In somebody else’s flesh.” Connor mimics. “What did you do to Argent Skinner?”

Nelson rolls his eyes elaborately. “He got in the way. I think his fate is obvious, isn’t it? I needed new skin. He needed to learn his lesson. No one crosses me and gets away with it. You’ve been on the run for a long time, but I’ve caught up to you at last. I always catch my prey.”

To the side, Risa is slowly getting to her feet, but there’s a gash opening up on her temple. Behind her, Sonia is chained to a chair, obviously in pain. Only Connor can save them. Only Connor can save himself.

Nelson starts to glance over at Risa, following Connor’s line of sight, so Connor quickly speaks up again to distract him. “So what, are we going to fight again? Boring, but let’s get on with it. Do you want to get out your tranq gun for old time’s sake? Maybe I’ll shoot you again. They might give me a new nickname for that.”

Nelson actually growls in anger. “I’m not interested in tranq guns, Connor. A permanent solution is better for you.”

He’s still holding the gun he just used to kill the blond boy, and Connor realizes with a sinking lurch that Nelson is planning on utilizing it for a second kill. This time, Nelson isn’t leaving until the job is done. Sure, it would be good to collect the payout of grabbing the Akron AWOL, but this is personal. Nelson can make up any excuse he wants about why Connor forced his hand. In the end, this is about Connor repeatedly humiliating the guy, costing him his job, his life, his flesh and bone, everything. One of them is walking away from this, not both. Perhaps neither of them. Looking up at Nelson, Connor finally knows:  this is where it all ends.

“That’s fine with me.” Connor tells him. “I’d like to get rid of you, too.”

He briefly considers going for the ‘nice socks’ distraction, but, afraid of having used it one too many times, Connor decides to ignore the pleasantries and just get going. There’s a table of antiques next to him; Connor grabs the closest heavy object, a brass candlestick, and lobs it at Nelson’s head. The former Juvey-cop manages to duck, but not entirely, and the metal clips him on the temple.

Nelson grunts in pain and angrily points the gun towards Connor, who frantically hurls himself to the floor. The shot misses, shattering a glass cabinet and sending the contents showering to the floor. Connor picks himself up and sprints away, hoping Nelson’s more interested in him than staying to finish off Risa and Sonia.

Luckily, the guy’s got blinders on for anything that isn’t his least favorite AWOL, and Nelson gives chase immediately. Unluckily, this means that more bullets are directed Connor’s way. He skids through a series of small displays, using the advantage of a few tight corners to remove himself from Nelson’s immediate line of vision, then ducks into a hiding space below a desk. There, he waits, one hand clamped over his mouth so Nelson can’t hear him breathing.

Nelson stalks slowly from room to room, Connor can hear the thud of his boots against the ground. “Come out, Connor,” Nelson calls, “Let’s settle this like men. You can’t hide forever.”

Maybe not, but he can certainly push off more fighting as long as he can. Nelson was a cop once, he’s got way more combat training than Connor. Connor’s only hope is to stay one step ahead and confuse him into letting down his guard. There’s no way he’s winning a direct fistfight, so Connor has to be as difficult as possible. 

Something dense thuds on the ground, then the glug of liquid pouring out follows the sound. Connor has no idea what that could be, but there’s no mistaking the subsequent click of a lighter. “If you won’t come out on your own, I have no problem smoking you out. I hear that’s best when taking care of rats. You have to burn down their nest to kill the young.”

Connor does not know much about rats, nor the proper method of extermination, but at this moment he doesn’t like any of it. Nelson is just as stuck in here as Connor if the antiques shop goes up in flames, but Connor realizes with a sinking feeling that Nelson doesn’t care about getting out if Connor doesn’t either. As long as Connor dies first, Nelson is happy. 

Connor, however, needs his friends to stay alive. He rolls out from under the desk to find Nelson crossing over the threshold of the room. The former Juvey-cop bares his teeth in a grin. “See, there you are. I knew you’d let your feelings get in the way of your own self preservation.”

He holds up the lighter triumphantly over a slick of what might be rubbing alcohol or gasoline. Connor tries to stay cool, but his hands twitch at his sides. “Easy, man. You don’t want to blow yourself up, too.”

“How considerate of you to think about me,” Nelson muses. “I won’t return the favor.”

With that, he drops the lighter. The liquid immediately erupts into flames, streaking out of the room and into the next with lightning speed. Connor shouts in despair, but it’s too late. He can only hope that Risa was able to get Sonia out, that the unwinds in the basement could get the window open. Hope is all he has left. That, and the undeniable anger coursing through his veins. Nelson wants to play with fire, does he? Connor is more than willing to follow suit.

He’s not stupid enough to start a fight in a burning house, so he runs for the back door, which opens up into a barren grassy patch hemmed in by a fence. Good; Connor doesn’t want Nelson running. If Connor is the only one that survives the fire, he will make sure Nelson pays for it.

Connor makes it out the door first, so he has enough time to pick up a rock and hurl it at Nelson’s head as the Juvey-cop chases him out. This time, Nelson doesn’t duck, and the man cries out in pain as the rock connects directly with his left eye. Whatever Unwind’s eyeball ended up in Nelson’s face, he hopes that they’re not aware of the injury. He wants only Nelson to feel the agony of the blood welling up in the ruined socket.

Nelson clutches the bloody wound, swearing at Connor. “Do you know how costly those things can get on the black market? I’ll have to replace it with yours to even things out.”

“Try it. See what happens,” Connor dares him, and lunges for the man.

Nelson’s sense of balance is still impacted by the blow to the head, so Connor manages to tackle him around the middle before Nelson is even aware that he’s attacking. They roll around on the ground for a little bit, exchanging punches back and forth, before Connor is able to force him onto his back. From there, it’s easy to keep him pinned and rain blows upon his face. 

He used to get in fights a lot before the unwind order, it’s all coming back to him now. Nelson tries to shove the barrel of the gun towards Connor, but Connor knocks it out of his hand in an instant. The man’s face is almost unrecognizable by now, but Connor isn’t done yet. This man is responsible for so many teenagers being unwound, doesn’t he deserve this punishment? He, too, should be in pieces. Connor can arrange that.

Nelson tries to shout something, but the words come out garble and broken around his swollen tongue. It’s going to attract attention, if the inferno behind them hasn’t brought scrutiny already. To shut him up, Connor wraps his hands around Nelson’s throat and starts to squeeze. It’s easy at first, just a matter of applying pressure. One of his hands– the right one, Connor thinks, but he’s not entirely aware of the difference nor why it should matter– tries to back out, but Connor redoubles his efforts. Nelson is not getting away. Not this time. Not ever.

It takes Connor a long time to realize that the man is no longer moving. Longer still to realize why. Connor has never killed someone before. He didn’t think he could, but. Sometimes we learn things about ourselves later than we expect.

Connor falls to his knees, leaning back slightly as he stares at his handiwork. His heart beats an urgent, irregular beat, telling him what he has known for a while now but is certain of today:  he is a terrible, terrible person. Lev wouldn’t blow up Happy Jack, even Roland couldn’t kill, but Connor could. There are no lines he would not cross, no boundaries he cannot push. He is, at last, well and truly feral. No wonder the world wants him in pieces.

People are starting to emerge from their houses, attracted by the glow of the fire and the jumbled shouts of the fight. Connor is sheltered by the fence and hedges for now, but soon they’ll come for him and find the bloodied corpse of the former Juvey-cop. There are very few people who would mourn for Jasper T. Nelson, if there are indeed any at all, but any witnesses will see a dead man and a living killer and know who is worse off at the moment. The dead rest. The living do not.

Risa finds him first. She skids over the ground to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. Dimly, Connor is reminded of tackling Nelson to the ground, one rough arm against his throat, but this is Risa, this is different, this has to be different. Not everything in this world brings death. Still, it’s hard to remember now.

“It’s over,” Risa breathes against his ear, “It’s over. Let’s go home.”

Connor isn’t looking at her, though, he’s watching the flecks of burning paper float down around him like snow. In his head, he’s a kid again, bundled up in a parka and too-big snow boots. He’ll grow into them; so will his brother, in a few years. Now Lucas gets new clothes and Connor gets nothing at all. Lucas has had two winters now of being the first one to run out into the yard in the fresh snow, of sinking the first boot prints into the endless expanse of white, and Connor hopes to God he’s loved it.

Connor stretches out a shaking, blood-spattered hand and picks up one of the pieces. It’s an envelope, the contents either ripped away in the wind or already burnt to bits. Right now, the delivery address is damn near indistinguishable from the coarse ash rubbed against it, but Connor can pick out the words by heart:

Claire & Kirk Lassiter

3048 Rosenstock Road

Columbus, Ohio 43017

As he watches, the smoke from one corner of the envelope picks up into a spark, which turns into a flame that gnaws away the words one by one. Like unwinding, his mind whispers. Each letter ripped away to some new fate. Risa has to pluck the quickly burning paper out from between his fingers so Connor doesn’t scorch himself. He doesn’t even notice the flames are at his flesh until a dull, throbbing ache some time later.

Connor is still in Ohio. He’s within driving distance of his house, but there is something Connor has known from the moment he came back here, from the moment Sonia put that letter in his hands again, from the moment he throttled Nelson until the light left his eyes:  he can never go back. That house is for the whole, and although Connor still has possession of all of his limbs, he cannot ever be described as such again. He is not his father’s son. He is not his mother’s boy. If there was ever a Connor who could return to the Lassiter family, he is not the one who just strangled a man to death. There is no place in Ohio that Connor can ever return to again.

“No,” Connor chokes out, half-gagging on the wet slurry of ash and blood in his mouth, “No. I have no home.”

Risa’s saying something soothing about how that’s not true, he’ll always have her, and they’ll find a way, they always have, but he’s not listening anymore. Instead, Connor’s face is tilted back, letting the sun wash over the gouges on his cheeks, his split lip, the bruises already flowering under his skin. He stares once into that blinding light, then snaps his eyes shut. 

The elder Lassiter boy is dead. Only Connor remains.

requested by @bopeisdope, i hope you enjoy!

unwind tag list: @schroedingers-kater, @sirofreak, @locke-writes

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#connor lassiter #connor lassiter imagines #connor lassiter oneshot #connor lassiter fanfic #unwind #unwind imagines #unwind fanfic #unwind dystology #unwind dystology imagines #unwind dystology oneshot #unwind dystology fanfic #unwind connor #unwind connor imagines #unwind connor oneshot #unwind connor fanfic #unwind oneshot #what if au #what if fic #angst #unwind angst

[fandomimagines1]

Release*

REQUESTED -  hey love! would you mind doing another jay x fem!reader smut/nfsw imagine? I’m completely open to everything but maybe something like coming home after a long day and having a lil bit fun together? absolutely loved the last one with him & connor!

Jay Halstead x Reader

Warnings: SMUT/NSFW

Summary: After a long day at work, Jay comes home needing a form of release. His girlfriend manages to help him unwind.

(GIF’s not mine)

“I’m home.” Jay groans as he walks in, slamming the door and throwing his jacket off along with his shoes.

“You okay?” I ask, concerned as the banging and stomping continues.

“Yeah.” He kisses my forehead quickly before walking towards the kitchen.

“Jay.” I manage to catch his arm and turn him to me.

“It’s just been one of those days.” He sighs.

“Why don’t you let me help you relax?” I suggest.

“I might just try sleep it off.” He shrugs.

“You sure?” I ask as I allow my hand to wander down his abdomen and begin playing with his belt buckle.

“I’m sure I could stay awake a little longer.” He smirks kissing me gently before putting his hands on my shoulders pushing down slightly. I go down on my knees and slip my fingers into the waistband of his pants, smiling up at him. I slide his pants and underwear to the floor before taking him into my hand originally before allowing my mouth to join. I begin feeling him twitching inside my mouth and I prepare myself for his load to release but he pulls out my mouth, finishing on my chest which was slightly exposed with the low cut top I was wearing.

“Really.” I laugh and he pulls me up kissing me eagerly.

“I think we need a shower.” He tells me before kissing me again, pulling me through to the bathroom. He begins running the water before pushing me against the door. His hands roaming my body as he undresses me. I pull his top up and over his head before rejoining our lips once again. He pushes me backwards guiding me to the shower. He pushes me against the shower wall and the warm water rains down on me as he kisses down my neck, leaving little marks as he went.

“Jay.” I gasp as his fingers make their way between my legs. I lean my head against the shower wall and sigh as his fingers work their magic. His lips traced across my collarbone as my fingers wound up tangled in his hair.

“Do you want me to?” He begins as he pulls his fingers out.

“Yes.” I breathe out. 

“I didn’t even say what I was going to do to you.” He laughs.

“I want you to do anything and everything to me.” I tell him, desperate for some form of touch again. He grips me by the back of my thighs and lifts me up, pinning me high against the cold tile of the shower wall. I breathe heavily as I wrap my legs around his waist while my nails begin clawing into his back. His thrusts get deeper as we both begin to reach the end. 

“I love you.” He mumbles as he thrusts quickly, the noise of our skin slapping against each other echoing throughout the bathroom.

“I love you.” I begin, but cut myself short slightly as I moan out loudly as he finishes inside me pushing me over the edge making me finish ontop of him.

“Thank you for helping me destress.” He smiles at me as I regain my balance, standing in front of him.

“Always.” I nod kissing him again as his hand runs up in between my legs again, rubbing me gently.

“How about I help you a bit more?” He smirks dropping on his knees in front of me.

“How do you plan on?” I begin but the answer becomes clear when he puts one of my legs over his shoulder. His head now situated in between my legs. His tongue runs over my folds once before he blows air on my clit, already making my legs buckle. He sucks on my clit making my head roll backwards as I gasp out. His tongue flicks back and forth as my hands end up in his hair once again pulling it slightly. I moan loudly as I feel myself release on his tongue.

“Let’s go to bed.” Jay suggests turning the shower off.

“Yeah.” I nod.

#Chicago PD #Jesse Lee Soffer #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #smut

[imma-fucking-nerd]

Malfunction

(Nines x Reader)

A/N: givin my mountain baby a little love cuz i still feel bad about how i had to do it to him in two birds 😔

——————–———–—————

"Goodmorning, (Y/n)," you were immediately greeted by Connor, your best friend, as you entered the precinct.

"Goodmorning Connor," you responded with a smile just like you did every day.

Looking over his shoulder you surprisingly saw Hank at his desk. You noticed that ever since Connor became a deviant he had managed to slowly get his father figure to come to work on time.

"Morning Hank," you called out to the older man to which he responded with a lazy wave.

After saying your greetings to your friends and having a little smalltalk you headed to your desk. As you put your things down you lifted your gaze, locking your (e/c) eyes with hard steel grey ones. A stare that never failed to make a shiver run down your spine. Even so, you lifted up your hand and offered the stoic android a small wave.

"Morning Nines," you said with a kind smile.

He didn't reply. He never did. But you never stopped greeting him anyways because despite the fact he may not have deviated yet, doesn't mean he's any less a person. However that didn't exactly mean you weren't a little scared of the guy. With the way he stared at you, you could only imagine he was thinking about ripping your head off. Or maybe he wasn't. To say he was hard to read was an understatement.

When you brought your attention back to starting your work, the androids eyes never left your form. What you didn't know was that he didn't hate you like you thought he did. Quite the opposite actually. He found you intriguing. It always puzzled him why you would waste time trying to talk to him. He was just a machine. There was no point.

However the more time went on the less true that seemed to become because whenever you shared a kind smile with him something in him shifted. Changed. As if there was some sort of virus in his programming causing these strange feelings. If he had a dollar for every scan he ran on himself to find out what the hell it was he'd be a billionaire. But alas they all came up with nothing.

That wasn't the only time he'd experience one of these malfunctions, so to speak. They'd also happen whenever he saw you talking with the RK800, Connor, his predecessor. But this feeling was far less desirable than the other. It made Nines insides feel like they were clenching, like he was suffocating from a lack of.... He didn't even know.

You always seemed so comfortable with him and were never not smiling. You'd even hug him after almost every interaction. But he didn't like it. Not one bit. Why were you giving the lesser model so much if your attention? He was the superior one after all. But then he'd ask himself why did it even matter? It wasn't like he cared. He couldn't care. He was a machine. That's all.

At least that's what he'd tell himself. Over and over and over again. Even when he would see the little Software Instability ^ in his peripherals. It must have just been a mistake. An error. A malfunction. Something. He couldn't actually be becoming the very thing that was impossible for him to do.

But when you glanced up and locked eyes with him for just a second, that feeling would return once again. Then he'd end up playing the memory of that moment over and over just to feel it again. Until he'd get snapped out of it by Gavin, or even himself.

It was maddening. You were maddening. You were consuming his every waking moment and you didn't even know it. That was probably the worst part. You had absolutely no clue the hold you had over him. In fact, you were afraid of him, and he knew it. What he didn't know, or understand, was that it hurt him. He'd never hurt you. He ran so many simulations in his head of situations where he'd be ordered to hurt you but he just couldn't. Something that was harder for him to convince himself was at all logical.

Software Instability ^

As the hours went by Nines found himself replaying his favourite memory of you. It was one of the few times you had tried striking up a conversation with the RK900 in the earlier months of his time at the DPD.

"So, I know everyone calls you Nines, but you do have an actual name like Connor or...?" you questioned seemingingly out of the blue, tilting your head up to the tall android.

"I was not registered with an official name, no," he replied simply with his usual monotone voice, glancing down at you.

"Well....would you want one?" you offered with a small smile.

He watched you silently for a moment before responding rather coldly, "I'm a machine. I don't want anything. Nines is a sufficient enough way to address me."

You frowned slightly at his answer and it was the first time he felt the ghost of what would become a powerful feeling.

"Alright well.... If you ever change your mind let me know," you said, your lips curving upwards once more.

Everytime he'd think back on that memory the tiniest of smiles would tug at his lips. It was the first time a human offered him any kindness, or anything at all really, let alone a name. Something that was uniquely his. He told himself he didn't need one but he sometimes wished you'd name him yourself. A thought that would be quickly shoved away, and the tiny smile gone even quicker.

Software Instability ^

By the time he was pulled back to the present it seemed like it was already the end of the day. While he was lost in his own thoughts he was still thankfully able to do his work. Maybe not as flawlessly as normal but it was finished nonetheless. The last thing he wanted was his partner, Gavin Reed, on his case for slacking.

The only people left in the office at this point were himself, Connor, Hank, and you. That was, until Hank and Connor made their way out. But not without stopping at your desk of course. He watched as you said your goodbyes, giving Connor another goddamn hug, with that brilliant smile on your face.

Software Instability ^

Once you were done wishing Connor and Hank a goodnight, you turned back to your desk to finish up a few last minute things. It was rare for you to be the last one in the office but you didn't want to leave without making sure you absolutely did all you needed to do. You didn't need Fowler on your ass.

When you were finally finished you let out a sigh of relief and started gathering your things. As you were pulling on your jacket you couldn't help but jump and let out a little gasp when you noticed Nines in the corner, staring.

"Jesus, you almost gave me a heart attack," you chucked nervously as you placed your hand over your rapidly beating heart.

Now you kind of felt bad for forgetting that he was there. It was just that he was so quiet. Like a statue or something. It was just then when a sudden realization made your guilt even worse.

"So do you just, stay here at night? In the dark? Alone?" you asked him as you gathered the rest of your things.

He gave a little nod in response, confirming your suspicions and you sighed softly.

"Well I can't just let you be alone like that so you can come home with me. If you want. You don't have to," you said, stumbling over your words as you continued.

When he didn't answer you frowned slight and gave another soft sigh. Well at least you tried.

"Well, have a good night then," you said before making your way over to the door.

Once you exited the building you stopped when you didn't hear the door close behind you immediately. When you turned around you were surprised to see that Nines was following you.

Software Instability ^

You smiled up at him and continued your way over to your car. You didn't say anything about it, you were just happy that he actually decided to take you up on your offer. That was progress in your book.

As you expected, the car ride home was a quiet one. None of you spoke and you both kept your eyes forward, save for the few glances you spared his way. You couldn't help but feel a little awkward. He looked so much like your best friend Connor, but he couldn't have been more different. You just wished he'd throw you a bone once in a while, let you talk to him without making you feel like you were an unwanted presence. But then again he did decide to come home with you. Again, a little progress was progress nonetheless.

Upon entering your home you let out an exhausted sigh, happy to finally unwind after a long day of work. As you took off your jacket and boots you noticed that Nines just stood infront of the door.

"You can make yourself at home," you said knowing full well that he'd probably wouldn't move from that spot the entire night.

You still wanted to make him feel welcome anyways. Him not being a deviant didn't change the fact he was still a person in your eyes. Even if he gives you many reasons to rethink that.

After that you went on with your night as normal. When you made yourself dinner you had to stop yourself from offering some to Nines. That would've been been very embarassing. But at least you didn't have to worry about him barging in on you while you were in the shower. It took a bit of time to get used to his staring when you watched tv until you got tired, and just as you suspected, he never moved an inch.

At around eleven o'clock you decided you should probably hit the hay. Turning off the tv, you got up and stretched a bit with a yawn before looking over to Nines.

"Welp, I'm off to bed now. Let me know if you need anything," you smiled sleepily at him before turning to head to your room.

Software Instability ^

However you stopped in your tracks when you suddenly heard his smooth voice speak up, causing you to turn back to him in mild surprise.

"I do have one request before you go," he said, his LED now illuminating a pale yellow.

"Yeah? What's up?" you asked maybe a little too eagerly.

But you couldn't help yourself. It wasn't every day Nines asked you for anything. Or talked to you at all really.

You watched him intently, patiently waiting for him to ask whatever it was he wanted to ask. When he didn't speak for a good long minute you were about to open your mouth to ask if he was okay when he moved to stand infront of you before speaking up.

"If your offer of helping me chose a name I would.... appreciate the assistance," he said, shifting his gaze away from you for a moment as he spoke.

"U-Uh yeah sure, of course!" you stuttered.

In all honesty you were surprised that he remembered that offer. Well, maybe you weren't surprised he remembered and more surprised he actually did change his mind.

When he didn't say anything else you spoke up for him, "Did you have anything in mind?"

"No. I would prefer it if you would select a suitable name for me," he said, finally asking of you what he wanted.

Well one thing he wanted from you, besides you yourself. But he wasn't even aware that was what he truly wanted. Not yet at least.

Again, you found yourself blinking at him in slight shock and for some reason you felt your cheeks flaring up.

"I uh, yeah I can do that. How about...." you trailed off, staring up at him intently as you thought about a decent name for him.

It was silent as you both stared at each other. Both your minds racing with very different thoughts. Nines LED blinking as he waited to register a new name. His first real name. Given by you.

Software Instability ^

After what felt like forever, your mind finally settled on a name you thought fit perfectly.

"How about Conan?" you asked with a hopeful smile.

The android looked off into the distance for a moment before nodding.

"Yes I think that will suffice. Thank you," he said as he looked back down to you.

"Great!" your smile turned into a grin and you felt pride bubble up inside you.

You did wonder why his LED was still yellow, however. How long did it take to process that information? You decided not to think too much about it.

"Anyways I should really be going to bed now. Goodnight, Conan," you offered him one last smile before turning to the hall towards your room.

However halfway down the hall you were suddenly turned and pinned to the wall, a hand on each side of your head effectively caging you in. You looked up at Conan with confusion and fear in your eyes. His eyebrows were knit together and his LED was burning an bright red.

"C-Conan?" you timidly spoke, not being able to hide the fear in your voice.

Was he about to kill you? What did you do wrong? Did he really not like the ne name?- Suddenly, you were pulled from your thoughts.

"What are you doing to me," his voice was low, almost a whisper and held something you've never heard from him.

Emotion.

But what emotion it was exactly, you couldn't tell.

"W-What? I-I didn't do anything!" you squeaked out, confusion evident in your voice.

He blinked a couple of times and his harsh features softened. You could of sworn you saw hurt flash in his eyes for just a moment.

Software Instability ^

"You don't even know, do you?" his voice was somehow softer than before.

"W-What?-" but before you could ask him what he meant he interrupted you.

"Whenever I'm around you my therium pump seems to work faster than it should, and all my biocomponants clench. It feels like I'm being suffocated. But whenever you're gone it's somehow worse. Like I'm missing a vital system. I've run a million tests but everything comes out fine. So why? Why is this happening?" He hung his head as he spoke, confusion and, what worried you more, fear could be heard in his voice.

Software Instability ^

Suddenly any fear you felt from him vanished and you were starting to realize what was happening. It made heat slowly start to rise in your cheeks and didn't at all help your ever high heartrate.

"What are you doing to me?" he asked again almost desperately, finally meeting your eyes once more.

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. You didn't have a clue what to say. There was no doubt he was deviating, and there was no doubt it was because of you. After what felt like an eternity of silence you finally cleared your throat before speaking.

"I'm not doing anything, but I think I know what's happening to you," your words were soft and slow as you spoke, as if trying to calm an angry animal.

You took a brief pause for a moment until Conan's expectant stare made you to continue.

"I think.... No, I know, what you're feeling is.... It's called love," your voice remained calm, soft, and confident even.

Software Instability ^

"That's not possible," he said harshly, his eyebrows furrowing.

Fear started to slowly creep back up into you hut you pushed it down. It was obvious that this was difficult for him and he needed you. You weren't going to let him down.

"Yes. It is. Conan, you're feeling. You're becoming human," a small reassuring smile spread across your lips.

You avoided using the word 'deviant', knowing that he would see what was happening as a bad thing if it was labeled as such. But it wasn't a bad thing at all and you were trying your damndest not to fuck it up. So before he could come to the conclusion of it being a negative on his own you continued.

"And that's not a bad thing. It's a very very good thing. A wonderful thing," as you spoke you slowly raised a hand to gently rest on his chest.

However before your hand could touch him, his hand caught your wrist. His grip was tight, but not to the point that it hurt. It was a warning. So you ceased your movements immediately.

Software Instability ^

You watched as he shut his eyes tightly, his face scrunching up causing you to stay silent and still. Oh how you wished you knew what was going on in his head. The only indication you had was his raging red LED.

What you couldn't see was the multiple notices of software instability going off again and again. And as he shut his eyes he was met with a large red wall of his mission. He knew what this meant. He knew what would happen if he broke through. He couldn't do this. He can't be a deviant. But then your words replayed in his head. "And that's not a bad thing. It's a very very good thing. A wonderful thing." That gave him enough strength to finally bash that wall down.

After what must have been a solid five minutes, although it felt more like hours, he slowly guided your hand up to cup his cheek. This made your eyes go wide but you didn't dare pull away, not that you even wanted to anyways. You assumed that the action was his wordless way of telling you he did it. He fully deviated.

When he finally opened his eyes he was met with a warm, reassuring smile and the feeling of your thumb brushing over his cheekbone. His LED seemed to finally calm down to a yellow hue, making your smile grow just a bit wider in relief. Without another word you suddenly went on your tippytoes and wrapped your other arm around his neck, pulling him down slightly into a hug. Your other hand, which he slowly let go of, moved to the back of his head.

He didn't know exactly what you were doing at first and just stood there awkwardly. But as soon as he realized you were hugging him he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist. After a few more minutes of him getting used to your embrace you felt him relax into you and even nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his LED finally settling back to a calm baby blue.

You two just stood there in each others arms for god knows how long. But you didn't mind one bit. If you didn't know better you would have even thought he fell asleep. As if on cue, a yawn escaped from your body and you wondered just how late it had gotten. As soon as Conan heard you yawn he pulled back from you, but his arms stayed firmly around your waist.

"It's 12:32 am, you should go get some rest," he said softly, looking into your eyes with an amount of love you've never seen before.

"Uh y-yeah okay," you stuttered out, the heat in your face rising higher than ever before that night.

However before you even had the chance to take a step towards you room Conan took it upon himself to lift you up bridal style and carry you to your room. A small squeak left your lips at the sudden action and your arms immediately wrapped around his neck. Looking up at him you noticed his lips curling up into a small smirk and your face burned even hotter.

"I-I could've walked you know," you said, your smile betraying your tone.

"I know," was all he said as he stopped to gently place you down onto your bed.

He watched as you got under your covers and got comfortable until your beautiful (e/c) eyes lifted up to meet his. God how was it even possible you looked even more gorgeous than before. Or maybe it was that he could now appreciate your beauty in full.

"Stay?" your small voice pulled him from him thoughts and he noticed you patting the empty space beside you.

"Of course," he responded, his smirk from before growing as he moved to lay down next you.

As soon as he was laying down you covered him with the blanket as well and curled up next to him. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him while his free hand started to gently pet tour hair.

"Goodnight Conan," you said sleepily as your eyes fluttered shut.

"Goodnight (Y/n)," he whispered back before leaning down and pressing his lips gently to your temple.

————————————————

A/N: HOLY. SHIT. I got CARRIED carried away lmaooo. Over 3500 words jfc. Each fic i write gets longer and longer. Anyways hope y'all liked it as much as I did writing it!

#dbh #dbh x reader #dbh nines #dbh rk900 #detroit #detroid become human #rk900 #rk900 nines #rk900 x reader #nines x reader

[rjhpandapaws]

How a Family is Built

Chapter 2: These Things Take (too much) Time

Connor had a hard time being idle. Like with most of these things, he wasn’t sure how much of it was his programming and how much of it was him. By the end of his first week with Hank the entire house, save for Hank’s room, had been deep cleaned. He had even given Sumo a bath. He and Hank had a bit of a fight after that. Hank had felt like he was taking advantage of Connor, and Connor was having difficulty explaining that being busy helped him relax. They each made themselves heard after a fair amount of yelling. Connor couldn’t shake his guilt even after the many apologies and started looking for other places to stay. He had asked Markus for help. Which, looking back, was probably how Hank had found out. Connor didn’t want to keep making Hank uncomfortable, but he also wasn’t comfortable with the idea of staying in a place where he would be surrounded by other androids. Which had been the whole reason he had asked for help. He didn’t know that his help would go to Hank. Not until he got a call from him on is lunch break. “Good afternoon Hank.” He said once the call connected, “Is something wrong? You don’t normally call during your work hours.”

“Did I do something wrong Connor?” Hank asked, “If it’s about the cleaning thing, I’m sorry. I’m still.... adjusting to living with another person again.” “I don’t understand.” He replied. Then it clicked, “Ah, well no, not really. It’s just - I’ve been living with you for a while now, so I figured you might want your space back.” Hank sighed and Connor could almost clearly imagine his exasperated expression. “I’ve got one question for you Con.” He said after a moment, “How are you going to pay for a place of your own?” Connor hesitated. He had been so concentrated on getting out of Hank’s space that he hadn’t thought that far ahead for once. “I don’t know.” He replied weakly, “I’m just - it’s - I don’t want to be a burden.” “Oh Connor.” Hank responded with a gentleness to his voice that Connor wasn’t used to, “You aren’t a burden kid. You know me. I don’t typically don’t do things that I’m against. You’re staying with me because I like having you around.” He paused and then changed gears, “Hey, if you’re serious about this whole moving out thing, I’ll help you look for jobs on the weekends. Once that’s handled we can find you a place of your own.” Connor nodded despite the fact that Hank couldn’t see him, “Alright.”

“Try not to worry so much, alright?” Hank continued, “I’m gonna finish my lunch and then get back to work.” “Have a good day Hank.” He replied. “You too Connor.” Then he hung up. Connor sat back against the couch with a sigh. It was a habit that he had picked up from Hank. He was half tempted to call Markus and ask him what he had wanted out of telling Hank about this. He knew why though. As Hank liked to say, it had come from a good place. Markus had been worried, and now Hank was too. These things took time. He understood that, but he was getting tired of it. He had been designed to handle any situation. Adaptable and all that, but instead he was stuck. He could handle everything but being his own person it seemed. At this rate he would always need to lean on someone else. Become a burden, no matter how many times he was told that he wasn’t. He needed to go clear his head. These sorts of thoughts weren’t doing him any good, and staying at the house wasn’t going to help him shake them. He made his way to the front door and Sumo joined him. Having company wouldn’t hurt so he took a moment to get Sumo into his harness. He wouldn’t be able to walk as far as he would have liked with Sumo, but at least he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts.

Even with Sumo he wound up walking far enough that he had to carry Sumo back to the house. His plan had been to walk until the stress notification cleared from his system, but it took longer than he had planned. Poor Sumo wasn’t going to let Connor walk him again. When they got back to the house and as soon as Connor got him out of his harness Sumo flopped onto the floor and just stared at him. “Sorry bud.” Connor said gently, “I had more on my mind than I thought. I’m sorry it turned into such a long walk.” Sumo only huffed at him in response. Connor have a slight smile as he walked into the kitchen. He got out his usual mug. It was something that Hank ad gotten him shortly after he had moved in. It was shaped like a Saint Bernard head and painted to match. He set it on the counter and opened the fridge to grab a pouch of thirium. He still couldn’t feel the cold in the same sense as Hank, but the rain as well as his rolling thoughts had made it a warm thirium kind of day. When the microwave beeped he took the pouch out and pulled the cap to pour it into his mug. That was how Hank found him when he got home shortly after. Leaned back on the couch with a warm mug of thirium cradled in his hands.

“Still thinking about it then?” He said in way of a greeting. “In a way.” Connor replied, “I’m just frustrated. I was made to be more than this, and I still fail at everything I’ve tried.” Hank stepped out of his shoes and came to sit beside him. “They never intended for you to be an independent being. You were never meant to handle these things.” He gave Connor’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “I know you hold yourself to a high standard, but that doesn’t mean you have to do this alone.” “You and Markus both have better things to do.” Connor replied and looked down at his cooling thirium, “I am only adding more to that and it’s unfair to the both of you.” “Have either of us said that Connor?” Hank pressed. “Well, no, but-” He started, and Hank cut him off before he could finish. “Then let us help you Connor.” His tone was gentle, but Connor understood that there was no room to argue, “You won’t be admitting defeat if you do.” “But these things take time.” Connor finished for him. He had to have heard it a thousand times by now, “I know; I’m tired of waiting.” “It will be worth it, I promise.” Hank encouraged, “For now, let’s try and unwind.”

It felt like defeat though, but Hank had a point. So Connor resolved to let it go if just for tonight. Hank was always good at keeping his mind in a better place. Connor drank from his now room temperature thirium and listened to the goings on at the station that he had missed since he left. His troubled thoughts could make themselves known another day.

#How a Family is Built #HFB #rk1k #dbh Hank #dbh Markus #dbh Connor #dbh fic #dbh

[brightbeautifulthings]

UnBound by Neal Shusterman

"'How do you dream of a future when you're not supposed to have one? How do you keep going when the world has disowned you?'"

Year Read: 2021

Rating: 3/5

Thoughts: There are spoilers ahead for Unwind, UnWholly, UnSouled, and UnDivided. Like most story collections that belong to a series, it's not strictly necessary to read this book to complete the series, and I probably wouldn't recommend it for any but the most avid Unwind fans. But since I'm one of those, I enjoyed it more than most of its kind. None of the stories follow Connor and instead mostly focus on minor characters from the series like Nelson, Miracolina, Hayden, Roland, and Argent, including a bit of backstory with Risa at the state home and the previously released story of Lev's first encounter with the ChanceFolk. I understand that Connor and Risa's story is finished, but I'll admit I was a little bummed that we don't get a glimpse of them after UnDivided. Mira Grant has spoiled me that way, and I think it would have felt more thematically complete to include all three main characters.

The collection begins with probably its weakest story, "UnSchooled", a brief look at Nelson's childhood and some events that shaped him into a Juvie cop and future parts pirate. I can't imagine anyone actually wanting to read more about this character though; at least Roland is somewhat sympathetic in "UnDevoured", despite being mostly a villain in Unwind. Risa's backstory in "Unfinished Symphony" is similarly lukewarm, and "UnConfirmed" tries to include both Hayden and Grace and somehow does justice to neither of them (but I'm happy to see Grace living the good life). I was prepared for Lev's story in "UnStrung" to be a gut punch because we already know how it ends, but that didn't stop me from weeping over my cereal while I was reading it. I was more interested in a bit of Miracolina's backstory in "UnTithed" because I'd been wondering what happened to her after she parted ways with Lev. It's a good bit of character development for her, and also a sucker punch when we realize who Bryce Barlow is. First Wil, and now Bryce. THANK YOU FOR THE UGLY CRYING, NEAL.

"UnClean" and "Unnatural Selection" both take a slightly different approach in introducing new characters with their own subplots, and as such, they're two of the strongest in the book. "UnClean" examines yet another unintended consequence of unwinding and the ways it can be abused, plus another fairly horrifying way of fighting back at it. "Unnatural Selection" takes an inside look at the Burmese Dah Zey, a notorious black market for unwinding, which frankly makes American unwinding look like a humane and loving practice. I think Connor and Colton could have been friends in another life. "Rewinds" takes place after "UnDivided" and gives us a look at Cam's new life as he tries to rehabilitate the other rewinds. "Unknown Quantity" also looks ahead and revisits Argent and Divan after Connor and Risa's escape. While not my favorite characters in the series, the story is easily the most darkly funny of the bunch, with the sort of ironic vengeance we've come to expect from them. I'm glad I read the collection, but it in no way matches the magic of the rest of the series.

#book review #unbound #neal shusterman #unwind dystology #story collection #3/5 #rating: 3/5 #2021

[robotstrategy]

Recalled • Part 5 • 35 - Ground School

Previous • Series Masterlist • Part 5 Masterlist • Next

In order to complete flight academy there are minimum training requirements of 65 hours of flight training and 80 hours of ground school. There’s also a minimum of 200 hours total time, which includes not less than 100 hours pilot-in-command hours of which 20 hours must be cross-country time. Cross-country time is defined as time acquired during a flight that is conducted in an appropriate aircraft; that includes a point of landing that is at least a straight-line distance of more than 50 nautical miles from the original point of departure; which must involve the use of dead reckoning. For right now, the first years are focused on ground schooling. It’s much like Driver's ED, but for aircraft, the accident videos get worse and the controls are even harder to figure out. 

Roland has been paired with a guy named Trevor, Trevor looks like the type of guy Roland’s roommate was accusing Roland of being. Roland wishes he could point to Trevor every time his roommate tried picking at him if he’ll even pick at him anymore. Today Roland decided he’d wear his sleeveless sweater and now his roommate is convinced he’s yin. His roommate says he’s happy because it takes Roland and another guy out of the mix, ‘Gross.’ Roland thinks, is that all that guy thinks about, girls? That would humour him if it also didn’t make him sad, this guy is ruining his life because he can’t see that he’s the problem, and not other people. Maybe another reason it disappoints him is that his roommate reminds him of his past self, not in the way about only caring if girls like him, just in overall crappiness.  

There’s a way in which Trevor holds himself, if ever Roland makes a mistake he’s always there to correct it before the teacher comes around. The teacher isn’t scary either, he acts like someone there to teach you how to do things properly so you don’t mess up and die. So he’s doing his job. Roland doesn’t make many mistakes, after all, it wasn't the back of his brain that was taken, the memory-holding part, unlike that Recall in the Psych Ward. During the little breaks they get Roland’s mind often wanders to things like this, he wonders if that kid ever made it out of the Ward, or if he’s still stuck there, unable to properly experience the world. Back to Trevor then, he seems nice, he seems to care when others pick at him and sometimes Roland. He reminds Roland a little of Hayden, with all of his little quips, but surprisingly he reminds him more of Connor, well, what Roland can still make of Connor. Hayden has told him that if he looks hard enough he could find clips of Risa and Connor, but he doesn’t want to. Hearing Connor’s name already put him on edge, and he wouldn’t dare look for Risa, imagining his gaze on a video of her makes his stomach turn. Trevor, like Connor, seems to be more of a team player, snapping every once in a while. Roland thinks it’s cool, it’s more than he could ever accomplish, even jokingly insulting someone would make him feel guilty. If it’s his sister though, it’s fair game, because she probably insulted him first.

There’s a guy named Roland in Trevor’s class, and he’s been paired with him. Roland seems to be knowledgeable on the basics, but once the work gets more complicated he and Trevor are on the same playing field. In the way that Trevor retains more of what’s being said, Roland seems to be able to handle the gory videos more that they’re sometimes shown. But why wouldn’t he be able to? He’s a Recall. Trevor doesn’t know what really goes on during an unwinding, but it must be awful. Trevor doesn’t watch the screen when the fake accidents happen, he just looks around the room at all the wide eyes, but Roland doesn’t flinch, he’s unmoving, maybe even uninterested. Roland’s body tells a story, he has this beautiful shark tattoo done in a Polynesian style on his right arm, it was paired with waves on his right leg, is what Roland had told him. He’s got graft lines going across his mouth, eyes, and forehead, along with three scars on his left cheek. Whatever got him clipped him on an angle, because there seemed to be a small, a medium, and a large scar. There were lines going down his left arm where he most likely would have been grafted. Trevor wondered why there was no hint of stitching, like on his face, Roland told him it was because he was nothing but a torso and an open head when he was properly Recalled. He was remade using one of the bigger Biobuilder models, there was no need for his new parts to be separated into smaller bits before all of him was connected together. Roland points to a girl in the back of the class, telling him that the girl had the biggest percentage of his parts. The girl looks up and smiles, waving at him, her partner is sheepish, they jump at everything, Trevor doesn’t think that classmate will last long. There’s something about the girl's face that makes him uncomfortable, once learning that she’s a Rewind from Roland, Trevor curses himself. He doesn’t want to dislike her for being a Rewind, maybe Cam Comprix scared him, but Cam was made at a time when he wasn’t needed. His existence was merely to be the perfect human being, while people were dying by not getting the right parts in time. Seeing the girl in a new light, he looks back at her again, but he can’t get over how the left side of her face makes him feel.

#unwind #unwind dystology #unwind fanfic #unwind series #sequel fic #roland taggart #unwind oc

[thran-duils]

Jealous Sea

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

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

Masterpost

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<> <> <>

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

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

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

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

<> <> <>

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

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

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

Too easy.

<> <> <>

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

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

It was wearing on him.

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

<> <> <>

Reader POV

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

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

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

<> <> <>

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

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

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

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

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

“Going hard tonight?” she joked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tony –”

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

Y/N nodded, keeping up with his stride.

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

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

“Yes, but –”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? What are you –”

“No. Don’t deny it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Muffled, he heard, “Tony, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Out here?” she squeaked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Building up speed, their bodies moved in tandem.

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

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

And his next move was to make sure she stayed.

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

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

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

~~~

Tags: @sherrybaby14

#tony stark x reader #dark tony stark #tony stark fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #my shit