#deh x male!reader

[yvette-tal]

“I feel kinda…empty.”

Connor opens his eyes again, turning on his side to look at you in the darkness of his room, barely able to make out your figure among his covers but she can clearly see your eyes so that’s what he looks at.

“yeah? what’s that like?” He mumbled as he scoots closer to hear you, assuming you don’t want to raise your voice much more than the whisper you started with.

“well..it just feels like nothing I do matters..”

Connor nods quietly, not wanting to interrupt since it’s the first time you’re telling him what you’ve been so ‘gloomy’ about the past few weeks, but he relates to you so far.

“Like..no matter what I do different or what I could do different—the people I talk to, wherever I happen to go that day, whatever I do in my free time before work, what I do after work…I feel empty. Like absolutely nothing would change is I were to just…”

You trail off and look away with a frustrated sigh, blocking Connor’s view of your eyes. “I’m a boring person.” You mumble into his pillow, flinching slightly when Connor lays his head on your shoulder.

“I don’t think you are.” He mumbled “all of my best memories involve you…I’d be upset if you just disappeared.” He added, leaning against you more and smiling slightly when he catches a glimpse of you rolling your eyes. “What? You don’t believe me?”

“No, Connor. I don’t.” You mutter and smack his hand away when he reaches up to squish your face in his hand “What could I have possibly done to make such a great change in your life?” You ask sarcastically, rolling your eyes again as Connor lays his head on the same pillow as you, this time laying on his back and looking up at the ceiling.

“Well, I probably would have killed myself by now if we never became friends.” He says quietly, looking over at you when you elbow him “I’m serious…”

“Yeah whatever…”

“I wouldn’t be having a sleepover with anyone right now if we hadn’t met, I wouldn’t have anyone to talk to, or share a sketchbook with…” Connor continued, only going quiet at the small sound of annoyance you let out.

“You could do that with anyone though..” I mumble and look the other way.

“but that point is that I did it with you. you’re what matters, idiot.” Connor mumbles as he pulls you close, an arm tight around your neck as he nuzzled your faces together, laughing quietly as you squirm in his hold to try to push him away.

“stupid, get off of me!” You whisper shout

“fuck you!” Connor whisper shouts back as he tightens his hold.

(can you tell I adore Connor Murphy lmao)

[whoseholtz]

if i could tell her | will smith

pairing : will smith x fem!reader

warnings : the BRIEFEST mention of being drunk underage, cursing, situationships (ick), reader is a theater kid, use of y/n, dear evan hansen, kissing, but just sickening fluffiness mainly <3

summary : will finally plucks up the courage to tell y/n he wants their relationship be more than just casual, and when he tries confessing he unintentionally quotes dear evan hansen

word count : 2.5k

Y/N and Will had been casually ‘going out’ for around a month now, but due to their conflicting schedules, they rarely got time alone together. Whenever either party had ever felt like they had the right moment to attempt at confessing, something always seemed to come up, or in many cases, ruin the moment.

The previous Monday, Will was quite literally seconds away from finally, officially, asking Y/N out. But do you know what happened? Gabe interrupted; the moment was perfect, and his teammate had ruined it.

Will attempted not to seem phased by it and tried to move on, but he still felt a hint of bitterness in his stomach when he thought back to that day.

However, the failed attempts aside, Will was determined that today was the day; in a few hours, Y/N would be his girlfriend and he would be her boyfriend. At least that was the hope.

Everything was planned out; that very night was Y/N’s first performance in front of a sold-out audience as Evan Hansen in BC’s production of DEH. He was so proud of her to be able to land the main role in the musical, nevermind that it was a usually male-dominated part to have.

Will has spent hours with her rehearsing, reading lines back and forth to help her learn them perfectly and not mess up. The girl had already known the entire musical by heart, but conditioning yourself to then only play one role was actually quite difficult, something she found out rather quickly.

While the boy wouldn't admit it, he actually enjoyed the soundtrack and found himself listening to the songs in his day-to-day life, even on the way to training.

On one particular occasion, he’d been walking to the rink on his own before Gabe and Ryan had joined him, and due to the noise canceling on his headphones, he hadn't realized until Ryan had nudged him in the side lightly, he'd jumped and paused his music.

This led to him being asked what he was listening to, and without really thinking, he’d replied, “Oh, just Dear Evan Hansen, you know.” Needless to say, he’d been teased for being a theater kid multiple times since then.

This musical had somewhat become a shared passion between Will and Y/N, and even though the hockey player wasn't directly involved in the production, he still felt as though he had become a part of the family that was the cast and crew. Most of his time was taken up by hockey, but that didn't stop him from popping in and helping wherever he could.

Ironically, the group had always referred to Will as “Y/N’s boyfriend," and every time either of them tried to remind anybody that they weren't official yet, eyes would be rolled and unconvinced looks would be pointedly given. So, maybe it was about time they could make the nickname accurate.

Special. That’s what he wanted this to be: special. It was all planned out to be just that, and with the night that it was going to be, Will thought it was no better timing than the present.

Smiling to himself, he thought about the fact that, if all went to plan, he could be cheering from the audience for his girlfriend, not just whatever he was supposed to call her right now.

Presently, Will stood at the entry to the block of dorms Y/N stayed in. He had asked his teammates to help pick an outfit for him and hoped it would impress the girl he was hoping to sweep off her feet.

He wore his favorite suit, a maroon-red color similar to the colors of Boston College itself, with a matching tie and white shirt. Perhaps it was cliche; the more he thought about it, the worse those concerns made him worry, but he brushed the thoughts out of his mind, watching the doorway with anticipation.

In his hands, he held a sweet bouquet of flowers—pink tulips, to be exact. No, he couldn't confirm they were her favorite flower, but he always associated her with the flowers. The first time he looked on her Instagram, the emoji in her bio stood out to him immediately.

He had accidentally admitted this fact to the old lady who owned the local florist, but instead of laughing at him, the lady smiled with a twinkle in her eye, muttering something affectionately along the lines of “young love.”

A creak from the door in front of him swiftly took him back to his current situation, and he looked up, his voice catching in his throat for a moment. In front of him was a flustered Y/N, and Will truly felt like the luckiest person in the world.

“Hi!” the girl squeaked out enthusiastically. "Sorry, I took a little longer than you probably expected; I couldn't find my key,” she explained, looking slightly guilty.

“It’s no problem; genuinely, I would’ve waited hours if you needed me to.” Will spoke sweetly. Y/N took it as a dramatic use of hyperbole, but in the boy’s mind, he was speaking nothing but the truth. “These are for you,” he added, handing the bouquet of tulips to the girl. “I didn't know which flowers you liked, but, uh, these reminded me of you.”

“They're gorgeous! And... pink tulips are actually my favorite; you must be psychic.” or maybe he just looked at her Instagram too many times—the same difference, really. Y/N was sure that her heart rate was about 1000 beats per minute, but she calmed herself down with some deep breaths.

“Could I?” She gestured her head between the flowers and the hallway she had just appeared from, asking if she could go and put the flowers back in her dorm, and Will nodded, silently sighing in relief at a moment to get himself together.

After a few minutes, Y/N got back, and Will offered his arm for her to take. She did as prompted, and he led her onward. The first part of his plan was in motion; phew, now all he had to do was not mess up the date or the whole part where he was going to ask Y/N to be his girlfriend.

Unfortunately, part of the plan had Will relying on his friends. Yes, he trusted them, but he still anxiously awaited what he was going to be presented with when they arrived at the park.

He had spent all morning preparing a picnic basket of foods for their date; he’d even taken a trip to a store to buy a wicker basket and a red check blanket to fully complete the aesthetic.

Yet, he was (thankfully) pleasantly surprised when, as he brought the girl through the park, his picnic was perfectly set out for their date. He’d need to remember to thank the boys later. Will looked at Y/N, nervous for her reaction, to see what could only be described as pure joy painted across her expression.

“Will! This is so cute,” she let out a squeal of awe. “You didn't have to; oh my gosh, this is so cute.” She promptly wrapped her arms around the boy, kissing him on the cheek in excitement. His cheeks lit up at this, because while she’d kissed him on the cheek before, it never stopped feeling like the first.

They sat together in the afternoon sun, engaged in conversations about many topics ranging from hockey to Taylor Swift, but somehow, the topic of Dear Evan Hansen had not come up yet, which Will sort of wanted it to, so he could approach what he’d been waiting to say for a long while now.

“And then the show's tonight, and like Ms. Laynor said, we could have a few hours to ourselves before we had to get ready for the opening, right? But she never specified what time we needed to be at the theater, so I just thought four hours before was good, you know. Arrive at 4 p.m. in time for the show at 8, perfect!” Y/N ranted on slightly, but Will listened intently, nodding in agreement with her decision.

“Yeah, I think four hours is good, and if she needs you before then she can always message you.” Will reassured the girl, his eyes twinkling affectionately at the passion she held for the theater. Just seeing the smile that graced her face made the boy know this was it—this was the time he was going to do it. He wasn't sure why he knew, but the moment felt right. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“There's really nothing like your smile; have I ever told you that? It's sort of subtle, but real, and it's perfect." Will started; he had a habit of talking with his hands, and as he spoke, it was highlighted. “And I don't think you know how amazing seeing your smile can make someone feel—can make me feel!”

Y/N watched him talk, stunned and speechless as Will confessed what he had never had the guts to speak out loud before. “And I know that when you're bored in class, you start doodling in the margin of your books, and I noticed that you annotate your books with a pen when you see something you like.”

Admitting this took bravery, but honestly speaking, the boy still hadn't come to terms with the fact that this was actually real.

“But I’ve kept it all inside; I haven't said it to you. I’ve wanted to, seriously, but I couldn't seem to talk to you about it; I couldn't find a way, and I didn't know if we were on the same page because sometimes it feels like we're a million worlds apart, so it was like, where am I meant to start? And how do I say it?"

He took a long breath before he said the most important part, “I love you.”

That was it; he’d done it; he’d said it. There was no taking it back now. He felt close to exploding as he looked directly into her eyes for the first time since he’d started talking. Y/N looked close to crying. Will could only hope that was positive, but the demons in his head only told him of the rejection that was coming.

“Will. I don't know what to say. He braced himself for the harsh reality check he feared was building. “That's the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. Wow. I love you too, seriously.”

He deflated, “I get it,” before his mind fully comprehended what he’d just heard. “Wait, what?” His previously crestfallen body language perked up instantly. Did she seriously say what he thought she had? Surely he had to be dreaming, and resisting the urge to pinch himself to check was becoming increasingly difficult.

“I love you too,” she smiled. “And I think if I hadn't already been, the fact you just quoted Dear Evan Hansen to tell me how you felt would've made me fall in love on the spot.” She said it meaningfully; his words had been quotes from a song, yet somehow, everything he said felt raw and honest, like he had written the song about her.

With the realization of what he’d done, Will groaned inwardly, “Fuck, there's no way I plagiarized my confession of love from Dear Evan Hansen. I’m so embarrassing.” He knew the words had been too smooth to be completely his own, but of all the things he had to quote from, It was the musical his girlfriend was going to perform in a few hours.

“What? No, you aren't! You genuinely don't know how much it means. You spent so much time helping me rehearse for the performance when you didn't have to, when we weren't boyfriend and girlfriend, but you did anyway. And you memorized the lyrics, and now you're quoting the songs when you tell me you love me.”

Y/N looked at him with an expression of pure adoration and said, “You're not embarrassing at all; you're just possibly the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”

“I never meant it in a bad way that it was quotes from there. I mean, you changed it so it would fit me; that's just about the most thoughtful thing in the history of things. It was personal, to me and to us; that's what matters.” and she was extremely serious when she said that.

The idea that someone she'd fallen in love with cared at all about her passions meant everything, and then for the love to be requited felt like a million years of joy all at once. The boy felt the same, along with a major sense of relief and, well, a hint of lingering embarrassment.

“I’m glad, wow. I’ve been waiting so long to finally tell you this. I can't even believe it's just happened and that you actually like me back, and all the rejection scenarios I imagined were stupid.” He was cut off by the pressing of a kiss on his lips.

“Shut up,” she mumbled affectionately against his lips, smiling slightly into the kiss. Any of their previous fluttering, drunk kisses were forgotten at this moment; the passion after months of mutual pining solidified this as the first kiss, not just for them as a couple but for them as people too.

They continued for a few seconds before both of them lay down on the blanket, somewhat starstruck, letting the situation completely settle in their minds. It was a comfortable silence as they replayed the moment in their heads like a film reel.

It had gotten to 4 p.m. and Y/N had left for the theater. Will spent the time he had between then and the show in a few hours processing everything that had gone down. It honestly shocked him that he’d ever followed through with the plan to begin with.

Fast forward to the performance. Will sat in one of the closest rows to the stage, excited to watch Y/N perform a project she’d been working on for so long. Personally, he was extremely impressed; the entire cast had worked their asses off, and it was definitely worth it.

While Will had listened to the soundtrack, he’d never seen the full musical performed, and seeing it there was something special, especially knowing how much it meant to the people on stage. As the production came to an end and the cast performed their curtain call, the audience gave them a standing ovation.

Y/N, as the title character, got her own turn to bow and take in the true feeling of the audience clapping for you and cheering for you. The feeling was indescribable, but at that time she felt on top of the world, lost in the moment, at a peak in her life.

She was grinning ear to ear as she met the eyes of Will in the crowd, and this somehow prompted the hockey player to shout, “That’s my girlfriend!” at the top of his lungs.

Needless to say, he was extremely embarrassed that he'd said that out loud, but it got his point across in a pretty public way, no doubt about that. Y/N laughed slightly before the rest of the cast joined back into a line with her, taking their final bows as the curtain closed, the show ending.

a/n :: thank you for reading!! the formatting ended up a bit weird and i had to reupload this bc tumblr decided to bully me and not submit this to tags... but hopefully it works now and i hope you enjoyed :3

[bunniislvt]

ok so Dehya with a male or gn!reader who keeps getting flirted with by the hot people, and this results in Dehya being super fucking jealous, so the minute she gets home to her partner she literally wastes no time and starts marking them up with bites and bruises along their body. Basically I'm asking for a feral Dehya who fucks her partner with a strap if you're comfy with it or any other ideas you might have until her partner says that they're hers and no one else's. I've literally being thinking of her being a feral bastard in bed and it's made my face red on more than one occasion. Most of this can be changed to make you feel comfier and if you have to I don't mind :]

jealous! dehya x gn!reader — marking

jealous dehya sure is a sight to see<3 she hates to admit to getting jealous, but she cant help but feel that throb in her chest when someone flirts with her baby. could you blame her for pushing you up against the door as soon as you two got home, fangs singing into the soft skin of your neck. her goal is to leave as many marks on you as possible, something to show all the others who you belong to. you dont know whats gotten into her with the sudden marking, but it felt so good. you couldnt complain. she began to harshly suck at your skin, repeating this over and over all across your neck and shoulders. you whimper, arms going around her to hold her tight.

"deh-dehya.." you mumble, twitching as her fangs press into your skin again.

she doesnt say anything, instead she picks you up but wrapping your legs around her waist and carried you to the bed, tossing you into the sheets. you look at her with wide eyes, anticipating her next moves, one thing you didnt expect was for her to pull her strap out of the drawer besides you. it was a pretty red color, and the as she undressed and put it on, you couldnt help but watch in awe. the look in her eyes was fierce. as quick as possible, she has your clothes ripped off and thrown on the floor, her tip pressed deliciously against your needy hole.

"gonna show you and those bastards who you belong to, i want them to know youre mine."

she plunges into you, her hips snapping forward. you let out a surprised moan, whimpering as she grinds her hips into you for a moment before fucking into you at a quick pace.

"who do you belong to?" she demands, her hand coming up and holding your neck, forcing you to look at her.

you couldnt answer her, only babble as she fucked your pretty hole. you could either speak up or keep babbling, the only way she'd even stop moving her hips into you is if you answered her question, but we both know thats not going to happen for a while<3

[asrisgratitudejournal]

Belajar (part 1)

Halo teman-teman tumblr,

kayanya tinggal sisa di sini aja safe space-ku yang betul-betul safe setelah semalam viral 2 tweet YANG SANGAT BEDA KONTEKSNYA??? (just X algorithm working I guess). Dari hampir 1Mil impression itu dan 200 new followers, dan setelah mendapat masukan dari teman-teman, ku memutuskan untuk lock account sebelum itu tweet nyampe ke mana-mana. Gak lucu soalnya kalau terus saya jadi di-doxx ditanya balik "emang mbaknya udah pernah organisasi apa aja?", kan mengkhawatirkan yah.

Terus tapi mayan senang karena dari peristiwa itu ku jadi banyak diskusi sama orang-orang dan jadi mikir. Beberapa di antaranya: (pengennya sih ku-expand masing-masing jadi individual post, tapi kayanya males, liat nanti deh ya)

Konsep belajar dan mengajar (teaching) Ini awal mulanya kepikiran ini dari banyaknya komen-komen terkait thread zam-zam aku di mana warganet komplain "pusing baca thread-nya campur-campur bahasanya, susah buat orang awam untuk ngerti". Reaksi pertama-ku tentu saja langsung defensif: "lah tweet tweet gua, udah bagus gua share, 'you don't pay me bitch' is the exact words verbatim I said to a friend in a dm, I did it voluntarily and for fun and I don't owe anyone anything". WOW sangat giving rude mean girls vibe. Tapi beneran in my defense, itu postingan kubuat in 30 mins, googling seadanya, terus ya cuma buat nunjukkin aja HOW INTERESTING THINGS ARE! (And also tbh is a response for a request dari Pasha the other day dan memang sudah kuniatkan di depan kabah coy) Terus tapi akhirnya solusi-ku: tetap ngasih orang-orang yang haus akan ilmu ini ke webnya Alm Rovicky si dongeng geologi, karena Bapaknya jauh lebih sabar di situ ngejelasinnya. Dan runut juga. Kemudian sampai-lah ke diskusi dengan teman yang memang reader juga yang ku merasa kritiknya bagus: dia bilang "kalau buat sharing aja udah ok Non, tapi kalau buat bikin paham kayanya bisa dipertimbangkan bahasa yang lebih mudah". This is a very nice feedback tbh. Awalnya tentu saja aku sangat reaktif (namanya manusia yang INGIN SEMUA ORANG MENYUKAI DIRINYA -- saya aja sih kayanya itu), ku mikir "BRO WHO TF HAS F-ING time to choose words?? Diction?? I am not a f-ing linguist??" (ps. Idk what a linguist does tbh, I'm sorry linguist for mistakenly stereotyping you). Buset kenapa diriku pent-up banget ya HUHU. Chill, Non. Ku juga bilang akhirnya bahwa sepertinya memang ku hanya sharing excitement of learning aja. Ku mikir: "the responsibility of people understanding something does not lie in my hand. It's theirs." Ku sudah ngasih source juga kok for people to explore more. Terus aku gatau ya apakah ini ada hubungannya dengan kultur belajar Indo(?) (takutnya aku agak reaching), tapi ku selalu bilang "you can always ask", yet no one budged. Kalau emang ada yang gangerti atau membingungkan, bisa tanya, konfirmasi lagi pemahaman, discuss. It's not a class where I just poured people pieces of jigsaw puzzle and then I leave "BYE, FIGURE THINGS OUT sendiri yahh!". Bahkan kelasku pun gak kaya gitu. Kemudian dari situ nyambung lagi ke obrolan dengan teman lain-ku yang decided to quit teaching as side job. Karena capek, sering dapet feedback yang nggak konstruktif, studentnya juga nggak progressing much kemudian blaming the course. Ini relatable banget dengan pandanganku di atas tentang belajar. Even if it is paid teaching yah, tetap aja menurutku the responsibility of learning falls onto the learners themselves(???) This is what I can say after 14 tahun EMPAT BELAS TAHUN ngajarin orang: we can’t help people to understand stuff unless that very people help themselves. OK OFC NGGAK 100% BETUL. OFC WE CAN HELP. Tapi sejauh mana we can help, that’s the big question. Posisiku sebagai kaka pengajar olim, dosen, social-media-science-enthusiast (if there is such thing), ya cuma sebagai fasilitator. The knowledge is out there already. Tinggal gimana kita mau nyarinya. Nah datanglah aku, ngasihtau “oh baca buku ini ya, latihan soal ini ya, lihat video ini deh bagus, paper ini lumayan helpful loh untuk membantu pemahaman, ada pertanyaan? Oh aku nggak tahu itu jawabannya apa, yuk kita cari sama-sama, cara nyarinya tuh gini loh (demonstrating how to google well, karena apparently not everyone is able to do that)”. Semoga kita semua on the same page with me on this very definition yah.

[i-also-miss-our-talks]

Stoned ~ Connor Murphy x Reader

Requested by Anonymous: I remember reading the beauty and the beast au on here, and I loved it. Could you do a Connor x Reader based on Tangled?

Here it is! Finally! I really hope you like it! Also, the title is a play on words, I guess. Because Rapunzel’s hair can get Tangled, so I thought Connor can get Stoned, you know? Anyways;

WC: 3,036

Warning: Swearing, Weed, Shitty writing, Jokes only I find funny

Masterlist

I tried to make it gender neutral! If you find a male or female pronoun for Y/N, please let me know and I’ll change it ASAP!

This is the story of how I died.

Connor, you didn’t die. Not even close.

But the ending is so bizarre it kinda felt like I died and went to a whole other shitty dimension.

Yeah, this definitely ends weird, but you didn’t die. Just tell the story, okay?

Okay, okay!

—

“Alone at last,” Connor whispered to himself as he shut the door to one of the music hall’s sound rooms. He was about to take the weed out of his pocket when a sharp scream pierced his ears. “What the fuck?!” Connor turned around to see you sitting at the piano for just a second before you threw your physics textbook at his head, proceeding to knock him out and fall against the floor.

It took you a few moments to figure out what you had just done to the poor man. But when you did, you quickly got up and locked the door. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, he’s gonna kill me,” you whispered as you picked up your book. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to figure out what to do.

Connor stirred a bit. You gasped and hit him with your book again. “Y/N! You idiot! You hit him again,” you yelled at yourself and put the book in your bag. You grab Connor and pulled him into a chair. Carefully, you check his pockets to see if he had a water bottle, hoping to splash a bit on his face to wake him up. Instead, your fingers brushed against a plastic bag. You take the bag out of his pocket and widened your eyes at the sight of weed.

Knock, knock

“Y/N? Can you unlock the door? I need to talk with you,” Ms. DeVerre, your choir teacher, said.

You gulped. You tossed the bag of weed into the top of the piano. You pushed Connor and his chair behind the piano and put his hood over his head. You straightened out your hair and opened the door. “Hi, Ms. DeVerre.”

The teacher smiled and walked inside the room. “Hello, Y/N. How’s your vocal practice going?”

“Good, I think. I’ve been practicing really hard,” you smiled. “So, I was wondering, maybe I could skip the rest of practice? I think having two periods of practice along with my lunch is more than enough.”

Ms. DeVerre shook her head. “No. You know what your mother wants. Continue practicing. I’m running out to get some lunch. We’re having Panera! Do you just want your usual?”

You sighed and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good! I’ll see you later.” And with that, Ms. DeVerre left the room, closing the door behind her.

You quickly locked it before dragging Connor back out. Taking the hood off his head, you continued your search for a water bottle. Luckily, you found one in his bag. You poured a bit into the palm of your hand and splashed it on his face. The boy immediately woke up.

“What? Where am I?” Connor questioned, looking around frantically till he saw you. His eye’s narrowed. “You,” he hissed and stood up, towering over you. “You threw a fucking book at me!”

You nodded. “It was just a reaction! I got scared! I didn’t mean to knock you out!”

“But you fucking did! All I wanted was a space alone and instead I got a book chucked at me!” Connor yelled. Thankfully, the sound room was built so that people outside couldn’t hear what was happening inside. Connor reached into his pocket and widened his eyes when he didn’t feel the plastic bag. “Where is it?”

“Where’s what?” you asked, trying not to look at the piano.

“Where’s my weed?” Connor growled.

“I…I hid it!” You smirked and crossed your arms over your chest, a plan forming in your mind. “I hid somewhere you’ll never find it! Unless, you want to help me with something. Then I can tell you where it is…?”

Connor frowned. “Connor. Connor Murphy. And what might this ‘something’ be?”

You smiled. “Get me out of here. It’s my dream to be out of here! I don’t care where as long as it’s not this sound room. I’ve been in here for so long!”

The long-haired boy laughed. “Yeah, no. I’m not about to break someone out of a sound room which they can just easily walk out of.”

“You don’t understand, it’s a prison. I can’t just leave!”

“Why not?”

“I…well…I can’t tell you. But if you get me out of here, take me anywhere that’s not here, I’ll give you your weed back. Deal?” You held out your hand.

Connor raised an eyebrow at your hand. “So…I just take you away from here and I’ll get my weed? Really?”

“I promise!”

Connor rolled his eyes.

You frowned. “And when I promise something, I never break that promise. Ever.”

The boy sighed and shook your hand lazily. “Fine. It’s a fucking deal.”

Connor started walking down the hallway. “Are you fucking coming or not?”

You gulped and looked down both sides of the hall. “Are you sure she wont see me?” You quickly felt the front pocket of your backpack to see if the bag of weed was still in there.

“Listen, Whitney Houston, I’m the master of stealth. She’s not gonna see you as long as you’re with me,” Connor said and leaned against the wall.

You frowned. “I’m not Whitney Houston. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Yeah, whatever. I don’t really give a shit who you are. I just want my weed back.”

Slowly, you stepped out the door, clutching your backpack strap. You took a few shaking steps out into the hallway before you burst out grinning. “Oh my gosh! This is amazing! But, Ms. DeVerre and Mom would be so mad.”

Connor raised an eyebrow as you started ranting to yourself and run around the school.

“But, I mean, they’re not gonna know so it’s not gonna matter, right? Oh no, I’m gonna be in so much trouble! But this is so fun! I’m such a horrible child, I’ll just head back. I’m never going back! I’m a despicable human being! Woo hoo! Best! Day! Ever!”

Finally, Connor found you sitting in the library behind a shelf of books. He sat next to you as you sobbed into your knees. “You know, I’m not quite sure what I just witnessed, but it’s one of the saddest fucking things I’ve ever seen.”

You sniffed and looked up at him. “W-what?”

“Now, I’m just trying to pick up on bits and pieces, but this seems like some serious stuff. Maybe you should just head back to the sound room.”

You shook your head as Connor pulled you to your feet. “B-but the deal-“

“Look, if you’re not feeling good about this we’ll just call off the deal. I’ll take you back to the room, you give me my weed, and we pretend like we’ve never met before,” Connor smirked and started dragging you back.

“N-no!” You wiggled out of his grasp. “I’m not going back! I can’t spend another day in there!”

“Oh, come on! You obviously don’t feel comfortable walking around during normal school hours! Just fucking give up!”

“I’m not gonna give up! I’m tired of being locked in there! I-“ You were cut off by the bell ringing, signaling the end of third period. You felt the ground begin to shake. “Uh, Connor? What’s going on?”

Connor frowned. “Passing time.”

You gulped and grabbed Connor’s arm, clinging to it as students flooded the hallways. “What do we do?”

“You run. We wont make it if you don’t run,” Connor said and started running through the busy students, pulling you along.

You tried to keep up, but there were just so many people it was making if difficult to hang onto him. You lost your grip on his arm and felt the students pull you towards the opposite direction. “Connor! Help me!”

The tall boy turned around and grabbed your hand, pulling you both against the hallway wall. He scowled. “This is it, then. There’s no way we can get through them if we’re pinned up like this.”

Sighing, you squeezed Connor’s hand. “I’m sorry I got you in this mess. I’m really, really sorry, Connor.”

Connor sighed. “It’s…It’s okay, Whitney Houston. But, in case something happens, you should know I’m not a school shooter. People just assume I am but I’m fucking not. Someone might as well know.”

You smiled. “Well, I…I have magic hair that glows when I sing.”

Connor’s eyes widened. “Wait what? Are you fucking serious?”

You giggled. “Nope. I just wanted to see your reaction. I actually can’t sing very well. My Mom and her best friend, Ms. DeVerre keep me locked in the sound room, thinking that if I practice enough, my voice will get better and I can make it to Broadway.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “You’re Mom sounds like an ass.”

“Kinda. But she’s still my Mom,” you shrugged and heard the bell go off again. Within a matter of seconds, the hallway cleared, leaving you and Connor alone.

“Well, guess I’m late for class again. Lucky me. You coming?” Connor asked, adjusting the strap on his bag.

You gasped. “I can go to class with you?! Really?!”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Not if you act like that you can’t.”

Nodding, you took a deep breath and calmed down. “Right. Of course. I’ll be calm, I promise.” You skipped along beside him as he trudged to class. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this is happening! My dream is becoming reality!” You looked over at Connor. “What about you?”

Connor glared at you. “What the fuck about me?”

“What’s your dream, Connor?”

The boy let out a low laugh. “My dream is to get my fucking weed back.”

You shrugged. “A dream’s a dream, I guess.”

“Y/N, what happened to being calm?”

“Sorry, Connor! It’s just I’m normally locked in the sound room during this hour so I don’t know what people actually do,” you explained, sitting next to him in the back corner of the room, bouncing in your seat. Connor’s class had a sub so he didn’t notice you weren’t a normal student.

“People just shut up and sleep in English. So, you should do the same,” Connor muttered before folding his arms and laying his head on his forearms.

You nodded. “Alright. Okay. I can do this,” you whispered and did as Connor instructed. Before you knew it, you both had fallen asleep.

You woke up by someone lightly shaking your shoulder. “Hey, Whitney Houston. Time to wake the fuck up. School’s over,” Connor yawned. Stretching, you grabbed your bag and followed Connor out the door. He began walking back towards the music hall before you grabbed his arm. “What the hell?”

“I’m not going back there today. Unless you don’t want your weed?” You smirked as Connor rolled his eyes.

“Fine. We have two hours in the city and then I drop you off at home. Got it?” Connor said, walking outside to his beat up truck.

You nodded and skipped next to him. “Got it!” Your smile brightened as you sat in his car. Your dream was finally coming true! You were going somewhere outside of school after school!

Connor started the car and drove off to downtown. He parked his car in the back lot of a Target. “Alright. Two hours. That’s it,” he reminded you before getting out of the car.

Two hours had quickly turned into six, as you two were prancing around the town. Connor first took you to a small cafe to get a snack, but you ended up meeting a bunch of people from school. So Connor hid off to the side, watching you. If he was being honest, it was pretty cute watching your face light up as you talked with your new friends. You two left after a while and walked around. You found a small thrift store and dragged Connor inside. Both of you played a game where you had to make the ugliest outfit. Whoever lost had to wear the outfit for the next round. You two got kicked out for being to loud as you laughed your asses off.

Connor was surprised. He was never this happy to hang with someone, let alone laugh and smile with them. But something about you just brought out the good in him. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to stay with you longer. His weed was no longer a necessity. Connor had a new dream.

After a few more hours of running around town, you two grabbed some Slurpees and went back to Connors truck. You climbed into the back seat and took a sip of your drink as Connor climbed in next to you. The sun had set so you two sat staring up at the stars. You gripped your cup tightly.

“Hey,” Connor said, looking over at you. “You okay?”

“I…don’t know,” you answered. “It’s just…I’ve been stuck practicing in that sound room after school for four years,” you sighed, looking over at him, “dreaming of what it would feel like, just spending a normal afternoon as a teenager. And it was everything I dreamed of and more!”

Connor smiled. “So, what’s the problem?”

“What do I do now?”

“Well, that’s the fun part, I guess. You get to go find a new dream,” Connor said.

You smiled and looked back up at the sky, widening your eyes as a shooting star flew by. “Whoa,” you whispered.

Connor smiled, his eyes stuck on you. “Yeah, whoa.”

You gasped. “Oh! I have something for you!” You jumped out of the trunk and ran to the passenger side. Flinging the door open, you rummaged through the front pocket of your backpack for the plastic bag. You grabbed it, shut the door, and climbed back into the trunk. “Here. This is for you. A deal’s a deal, right?”

Connor shook his head and grabbed the bag, tossing it over his shoulder. “You know what? I can just get some more fucking weed later,” he said. Connor grabbed your hand and looked at you, setting down his Slurpee.

Your eyes widened and you felt your heart rate pick up. “Connor?”

The boy cupped your cheek before leaning forward, stopping just an inch away from your lips.

You smiled and leaned forward, connecting your lips. The kiss was The Three S’s; soft, sweet, and short. Before you knew it, Connor had pulled away. You whimpered softly at the loss of his touch, but leaned back a bit. You licked your lips, tasting his cherry Slurpee that lingered there.

Connor stared at you before coughing awkwardly. “Well, I, uh, guess it’s time to drive you back to your shitty home, huh?”

You nodded and grabbed your drink, hopping out of the trunk and climbing into the passenger seat.

The ride back was silent except for the sound of Connor brushing his thumb over the top of your intertwined hands.

The next day, your Mom came to school with you, making sure you were in the sound room before leaving.

“No! Ms. DeVerre please don’t make me stay in here! I don’t want to go to Broadway now! I just want to be normal,” you begged, banging on the door, though you knew no one could hear you.

You sighed and sat against the back wall, tucking your legs into your chest. “Connor, please. If you can hear me, come save me again,” you whispered.

There was a single knock on the door before your Mom’s friend walked in. “Y/N, you need to start practicing! You’re never gonna make it to Broadway if you’re not practicing twenty-four seven,” Ms. DeVerre said.

You frowned and pulled your knees closer. “I’m not singing. I’m not going to Broadway. Well, not right now, at least. I just want to be a normal teenager.” Just then, the door flew open, reveling a tired Connor Murphy. “Y/N!”

You smiled brightly. “Connor!” You tried to run to him, but Ms. DeVerre grabbed your arm. “Let go of me!”

The choir teacher frowned. “Y/N, this is not an option. You’re leaving for an audition tonight so get practicing.”

“No!” You struggled to break free of her grasp. You looked to Connor, your face asking for help. He nodded and ran off. “What the fuck, Connor?!”

“Y/N! Stop fighting me,” Ms. DeVerre yelled.

“No! I wont stop! You and Mom have kept me locked up in here for too long! So every minute for the rest of my life I will fight!” You finally ripped your arm out of her grasp. “You two can’t control me!”

“Y/N!” You turned around and saw Connor run through the door. He grabbed you and pulled you to the side as the Principal and two teachers ran into the room. Connor hugged you as you two watched Ms. DeVerre get escorted out of the room by the adults. You look up at him in confusion. “Your Mom and Ms. DeVerre keeping you here and forcing you to fucking sing is technically Child Abuse. Weird, but true. I don’t make the fucking rules. So you’re free, I guess.”

You smiled and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Connor.”

Connor kissed the top of you’re head. “Yeah, whatever. Hey, Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

Connor sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “This is gonna sound so fucking cheesy, but…you were my new dream or whatever.”

You giggled. “And you were mine, Connor.”

Well, you can imagine what happened next. Y/N enrolled in school full time and somehow managed to get most classes with me. To be honest, it can be really fucking annoying sometimes.

Connor.

Okay, okay. It really never gets old. And I may have paid Kleinman to hack into Y/N’s schedule so that most classes were with me.

And we lived happily ever after!

Wow, that escalated pretty fucking quickly.

You’re not denying it.

That’s cause it’s true.

[n1ghtlux]

Stuck in between P1 [ao3]

Pairing: ghost!Connor Murphy x gn!ghost!Reader

Word count: 815

Summary: when you find yourself stuck in the afterlife you meet Connor Murphy, who's been here for longer than you have.

Warnings: some angst, reader has anxiety and other mental health issues, talking about weed and mentioning readers death briefly.

A/N: please do NOT romanticize death! You're needed and loved. If you need help, look at this post.

gif

To think you would be remembered as some "druggie who crashed their car" was beyond anything you could've imagined. Though it was incredibly thoughtless of you to drive back home after smoking weed with your friends.

Not that you would ever call yourself a "druggie". You knew what you were doing and the substance helped calm your anxiety and numbed you to the point of complete relaxation.

Only this time there was no way of getting home and no way of you crashing at your ex's place either. Not when he had female company and did the:

"I think we should call it a day",

with his hand gripping a girls' thigh tightly.

You had to get home somehow, so you got into your car and drove.

Only you never made it home.

Lesson learned.

For another time.

The "afterlife" or whatever you were stuck in was confusing. There is simply too much time to spend when you're there, but not really.

Thinking was about all you could do now.

Maybe this was your own little hell. You had spent days running after people, screaming at family, friends, anyone really. Yet, despite intense emotions following up with crashed mirrors and broken plates, your presence wasn't known to anyone.

You tried blaming the tree which you crashed into for it, but ended up leaning against it and watched the world continue on without you.

"This is my tree."

Furrowing your brows you looked to your right. The habit of thinking people are talking to you getting the best of you. Except this time there was someone staring right back at you.

Not through you, no. This guy was glaring at you, hands in his sweatshirt jacket pockets and foot tapping the grass impatiently.

You were up on your feet in an instant.

"You're dead too, aren't you?!"

You hadn't talked in forever so your voice made a terrible crack at the end, causing you to crunch your nose at yourself.

"You're sitting at my tree."

His demeanor didn't change, if your people skills didn't betray you, you would even say you had made him more frustrated. Who did he think he is?- Was?

Crossing your arms you replied in a mocking tone:

"Well, I'm sorry mr. Perfect but I died here, so I'm pretty sure this is my tree too."

He scoffed at that, a soft "fuck" leaving his lips as he brushed through his shoulder length hair with his right hand.

You started picking at the skin around your nails, a habit you hadn't even gotten rid of after your death.

The guy's gaze flickered to your hands briefly, before he sighed and walked up to you.

"Connor", his voice sounded less harsh than before. Right hand extended for you to shake.

It had been weeks since you last had any human contact and now here was - you had already forgotten his name again - willing to get to know you.

But when you went to shake his hand, you found yourself grasping at nothing but cold air.

"Guess you're new huh."

It was more of a statement than a question directed at you but you didn't really register his words.

You were staring at your hand, turning it over and tracing a wound from the accident with the fingers of your left hand.

Then you curled it into a fist, nails digging into the lifeless skin and sat back down with your back against the tree.

If it was possible, you felt even more numb and dead than before.

A cold breeze made the hairs on your arms stand as Connor sat down to your right with his hands in his lap and staring up at the sky.

"You're only able to touch others if you concentrate well enough."

You were still picking at your skin when he turned to you and put his hand on your arm.

The sensation made you suck in a breath and you looked up at him, relief evident on your face. His hand felt different on your skin than you had thought it to. There was a slight tingling sensation, like he was a vibrating ball of energy. Connor didn't feel dead at all. He felt more alive than anyone you had ever met before.

The corner of his mouth tugged up lightly at the sensation and your reaction to it. At least he was able to be helpful after his death.

He removed his hand from your arm and held it infront of you again like he did before. Knowing what he wanted you to do, you carefully slipped your hand into his now.

A huge grin forming on your face when you felt a new surge of energy course through your hand as it was firmly placed in his.

"Connor." , he nodded lightly, pushing a strand of hair out of his face in the process.

"Y/n."

{ masterlist }

[coldbrewreaper]

im about to read a connor murphy fanfiction that's tagged with slow burn and angst, 27 chapters.

lord have mercy

[undercoveravenger]

Dear Evan Hansen Masterlist

All of my oneshots and longer fics listed alphabetically by character; just click the link to go to the fic!

Connor Murphy

The Cabin in the Mountains (COMPLETED FIC): Contrary to popular belief, Connor Murphy did not hate everything. He liked to think of himself as an average person with likes and dislikes; he loved his sister and he liked his parents. Connor only really hated a few things: the other kids who went to his university, waking up early, and (M/N) (L/N).

[generallyclumsy]

nice to see you back! Could I get some Jared x male reader if you're up to it?

I I’m just going to drop some quick fluffy headcannons - hope that’s cool :). I hope you didn’t want something more specific than this.

I’m a little rusty so we’ll see how this goes.

You guys met doing a group project together, and you 100% expected to have to do all of the work but he surprised you and was super excited to schedule times to meet up and work

(Which was totally because he’d had the hugest crush on you forever)

You had always assumed Jared was straight because he was always bragging about girls.

After the group project, you guys started texting and DMing each other memes and song recommendations until he eventually told you he liked you (probably with some SUPER outdated meme like Pepe or something)

He’s really insecure, so it took him a while to believe that you could actually like him back, but eventually, he opened up.

You go on Tuesday Night dates and watch really bad movies together because he thinks it’s the best past time ever to laugh at bad acting

And he is huge on PDA, but not in the gross high school way, like little kisses on the cheek and knuckle, and things like that.

I’m going to leave this here but I didn’t want to leave you in my inbox for too long :). It turned out pretty gender neuteral.

[sammie-cant-write]

Connor x Male!Reader NSFW Headcanons

• He brings things up at really inappropriate times

• "How would you feel about me going down on you?"

• "CoNnOr We'Re ArOuNd PeOpLe!"

• "And?"

• The gang is used to it by now

• It's just like "Same shit as usual"

• He also teases you at inappropriate times

• Like, are you in the play? Boner right before you go on

• Giving a presentation for your class? He'll grab your ass as discreetly as possible

• Eating lunch? That's when his eyes light up and sees how discreet he can be while keeping up normal conversation

• Movie night? You can bet your ass he's gonna make you lean on him and he's gonna be palming you throughout the entire thing

• Movie night? I think you mean time to make my boyfriend really horny for two and a half hours

• Zoe is sick and tired of your guy's shit

• "Just tell him to stop."

• "I can't do that."

• "Why not?"

• "He's gonna get sad."

• "THAT DOESN'T MATTER!"

• You guys have also fucked in really inappropriate places

• I'm talking janitors closet, school bathrooms, once on Evan's couch (he still doesn't know)

• You've gotten caught by others before but you don't care so you constantly remind them

• This just in, local emo stoner likes getting his hair pulled

• Like is an understatement, Connor fucking LOVES it

• Like, pull his hair and you've got him wrapped around your finger

• He treats you like you're porcelain unless you specifically say you want it rough

• I wrote most of these at like 2 am so I'm gonna go before it gets any worse bye

[dear-alex-fanfic-blog]

May I please ask for sincerely three and trans male reader headcanons? You don't have to of course

yES OF COURSE I LOVE AND RELATE 

evan –

-         when you come out to him, he doesn’t know muchabout the trans community, but he’s such a supportive boy!!

-         devotes somuch time to learning everything about your identity and how to make youfeel the most comfortable that he possibly can

-         switches from calling you ‘beautiful’ to‘handsome’ literally within the next hour of you coming out

-         tries his absolute hardest to use your correctname and pronouns

-         will fight anyone who purposefully doesn’t

-         he gets you a binder after hearing you say thatit was a potential option, and makes sure that you know how to use it so youdon’t hurt yourself ((if you choose to bind irl, please be safe!!))

-         sends you texts to remind you to stretch andtake a deep breath

-         ‘heyhandsome!! don’t forget to stretch: it’s been about two hours since you put yourbinder on’

-         ‘babe ilybut we’re in biography. you need to pay attention

-         feeling dysphoric?? he will cuddle you and tellyou how wonderful and handsome you are and that nothing could ever change that

connor –

-         coming out to him was easy because he knows a lot about most trans* identities becausehe has a lot of trans friends

-         lets you borrow his clothes because a.) he knowsthat you want to try a more masculine style and b.) you look really good inthem

-         he is pretty much your personal masculine styleicon

-         this is really just part of his ploy to get youto start wearing all black

-         lets you borrow his cologne and body wash too

-         when you start telling people at school, hestands next to you for “moral support”

-         which really means he’s just there to give themintimidating looks so they don’t even thinkabout disrespecting your identity

-         two gays in love

jared –

-         gets v excited for you because he’s so proud ofhis boyfriend finding out who he is!!

-         cracks jokes to make the situations a littlemore lighthearted

-         “nice! this means that when i have the other twoover and we’re drinking I’ll be cracking a cold one open with the boys!”

-         “I literally hate you.”

-         “i love you too, (your preferred name).”

-         shares a little bit about his own experiencewith gender identity (because I hc him as genderfluid lol) and completelyunderstands how you feel

-         loves you endlessly

[sincerlyyme-blog]

i need a MLB x male!Reader fic ASAP

[i-also-miss-our-talks]

Connor x theatre nerd! reader whereby he reader may ramble a lot idk mannn thanks anyway ily💛

Sorry it took so long! Here are some head cannons, my friend! And, whats this? Gender neutral? I hope so, at least! I tried the best I could! Let me know if I miss something!

WC: 596

Warnings: Swearing

Masterlist

so the first time you met Connor you were partnered up for Biology

you had to dissect a frog

ew

gross

anyway

Connor was having trouble cutting the frog with the scalpel

so he just stabbed it

of course you’re like “Connor wtf?”

and he shrugged and muttered “he had it coming”

oH SHIT

HE HAD IT COMING

HE ONLY HAD HIMSELF TO BLAME

and Connor is taken aback like “Y/N wtf?”

you start going on and on about Cell Block Tango and then the entirety of Chicago

you were almost finished when the bell rang

you sighed and cleaned up the stabbed frog while Connor put away the lab papers

you put on your backpack and started walking away when Connor tapped your shoulder

“aren’t you gonna finish?”

“finish what?”

“talking about that fucking musical. you seemed so excited about it i figured i might as well let you fucking finish.”

squee!

you smiled brightly and walked with him down the hallway to the lunch room, blabbing on and on about the rest of Chicago and getting into a bit of Wicked because that somehow slipped into the conversation

then Connor said “is there any you think i might like?”

because we all know that boy has nothing better to do than watch bootlegs

you nod and quickly looked him up and down

“Newsies”

(you actually knew what musical to recommend him since you first saw him. the looking was just because whoa did Connor Murphy just become suddenly hotter?)

Connor handed you his phone and said “put in your number and send Newsies to me”

and you’re like “ok”

fast forward to the end of the school year because I’m a lazy shark

you and Connor Murphy are bff’s and everyone knows it so they don’t even dare to mess with you

(your parents totally ship you btw)

so anyway

Connor is driving you and Zoe to school like always. today you’re blasting Motown cause everyone needs a little Motown in the morning

so Connor parks the car and Zoe quickly gets out while you guys finish the song. when its done, Connor hands you a shoe box

and again you’re like “Connor wtf?”

“fucking open it”

you open it and gasp. inside is a plane ticket and three broadway show tickets. (you can choose your favorite shows because Connor would know exactly what they are)

and you look at him and he’s holding up his own plane and show tickets

“after school gets out on Friday we’re heading to the airport so get all your shit packed. i already talked with your parents. they’re cool with just the two of us going.”

sQUEE!

you throw your arms around him

“thank you thank you thank you! Connor you’re the best! i could just kiss you!”

“then do it”

tbh you are shook by his answer but you don’t hesitate. you slam your lips onto his chapped ones

(seriously you gotta buy this dude some chapstick or something)

and then you go to school hand in hand because TA DA you’re a couple now

then you go to New York

weeeeeeee

both of you?

alone in a hotel room?

for a week?

y’all know things get steamy

but it’s okay cause its consent and you dorks love each other

bonus!

during a steamy time you took slightly longer to get your shirt off

and Connor mumbled “whatcha waiting for?”

bOI

WELCOME TO MY CANDY STORE

TIME FOR YOU TO PROVE YOU’RE NOT A LOSER ANYMORE

STEP INTO MY CANDY STORE

“Y/N wtf?”

the end

[coldbrewreaper]

The Missing Medication

Title: The Missing Medication Pairing: Connor Murphy x Male!Reader Genere: ANGST! CW/TW: homophobia, slurs (which i can reclaim), bullying, suicide attempt, blood Summary: Connor attempts suicide after the bullying that came with being outed at school.

Your relationship with Connor was almost perfect. He was respectful, romantic even. He treated you like glass that would shatter if he even looked at it too harshly. The only problem you had was that Connor wasn’t out to his family; or anyone, for that matter. So he kept everthing that happened behind the scenes a secret. Until that fateful day. Connor walked into school, the stares shouldn’t be bothering him as he had gotten used to them, but it felt... off. He lifted his head up from the floor and looked around. This time was different. Instead of the occasional glare from one or two students every few meters, it was everyone. Everyone was looking at Connor. When he was temporarily caught off guard, he ran into Chad Beckman, the fucking prick. He slammed the long haired boy against the nearest locker with a BOOM.  “You’re a faggot, Murphy. We knew all along.” Connor’s life seemed to drain from his face. “What..?” He softly asked. Chad pulled his phone from his pocket and showed him the picture that had been spread around the school. His eyes widened as his breath seemed to get stuck in his throat. The picture was a photo of him and you, kissing each other goodbye in front of your doorstep. Someone seemed to have seen you and taken a picture, and spread it around the school. Connor stared at the picture in horror. Who could have taken this? Then he realized who lived right beside you. Evan- motherfucking- Hansen.

Connor got back to himself when he felt a stinging sensation against his cheek, and his head hitting the lockers. Chad pulled his fist back. “Listen to me, fag.” He made effort to really pronounce the slur as he started, “We don’t like people like you. I don’t want a pillow princess of a man in my school, do you hear me? Same goes for L/n.” Connor ignored the small cut on his cheek that was starting to really hurt at this point. Instead he got furious. “If you touch a hair on M/n’s body I will end your life.” He threated, but Chad didn’t feel the intimidation soak through him as much as Connor had wanted him to. Chad chuckled and swung at Connor again. The tall boy closed his eyes and waited for impact that never came. Instead he hear a loud smack and a grunt, then a body fall to the floor. Connor opened his eyes to see you on the floor, his your lip busted and gushing with blood. He pushed Chad away in panic with strength he didn’t know he had. He fell on his knees next to you and inspected your wounded face.  “Why did you do that, M/n?” But you didn’t reply. You simply stood up, pulling Connor with you and running out with his hand still in yours. He followed; it’s not like he had a choice. You ran out of school as quickly as you had entered the building that day, scared of the next one.

You and Connor spent the rest of that day patching each other up, thinking about the future, and a lot of crying in each other’s arms, and ended in cuddles. You planned the future would have to go after that day, and after a little hesitation, Connor agreed. 

The days got worse after that incident.

The whispers turned to things being thrown, screams, homophobic songs on the bus, physical and mental violence.

It went on for a month, until Connor didn’t show up to school. 

Worried, you waited the whole day for him to show as you felt the paper hit the back of your head. But he didn’t.

As you walked home from your tutor, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. It was Connor. You tried to shield your phone from the rain and the coldness as you read his text.

Connie hey m/n. sorry that i was a no-show today. must’ve sucked by yourself. i’m sorry you didn’t get to see me for a last time.

Confused, you watched the “Connie is typing...” pop up and away a few times.

Connie you see, i love you. and i don’t regret anything i’ve ever had with you, i need you to hear and understand that. i just... i can’t stand it anymore, m/n.

Having a feeling where this is going, your heart started racing as you typed in: N/n Connor. Where are you?

Connie i can’t stand the abuse anymore. i had to do something.

Your heart dropped at this.

N/n What did you do?

You watched the chat bubble pop up and disappear a bunch of times before a text finally arrived.

Connie i took every single pill in my med cabinet

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt your soul leave your body.

N/n Where the fuck are you? Connor? Where are you???? Honey, please. Connie By the tree. Come say good bye, please.

You knew exactly which tree he meant. It was the oak tree, your favorite spot. Pocketing your phone, you started running, not caring if it would fall out. The 30 minute way you ran in 15, scared for your boy’s life. You crossed the street, almost being hit by a car, but you didn’t care. You didn’t have a care in the world besides Connor right now. So you ran. When you arrived at the oak tree, you crashed onto the ground next to Connor, who looked peaceful with his eyes closed. He tiredly opened his eyes and smiled at you.  “My love.” He said hoarsely, “I knew you would make it in time.” The tears that have been falling since you got that text not dropped onto Connor. “I called an ambulance. They’ll be here soon, please- just, stay awake for me.” You said, sobbing. Connor frowned. “Why?” He asked. “WHY?!” You yelled in reply, “BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, CONNOR MURPHY! I CAN’T LOSE YOU!!!” You yelled in his face, which didn’t seem to do a lot for him. Who could blame him, his brain was putty, his heart was slowing and so was his lung, he couldn’t think straight as the sirens could be heard nearby. You held Connor in your arms as he closed his eyes, trying to drift away. Then, his lung stopped. The amount of medication he took must’ve slowed his heart to a stop, because his eyes shot open and he held onto his throat, desperately trying to breathe. You looked at him in panic, layed him down on his back and connected your lips to manually give him air. It didn’t seem to really work, so you tried to comfort him as the ambulance pulled up. They quickly put Connor on a stretcher and put a type of oxygen mask on him, allowing him to breathe. You cried all the way to the hospital and in the waiting room. The sobs of dread turing into happiness when they told you they saved his life. You rushed into the room and sat by his side, watching him like a hawk. When he woke up from his slumber, he looked around until his gaze met yours.

“Good morning, handsome.” You said lovingly. Connor burst into tears on the spot. “You saved my life.” He cried. You scooted your chair closer and put your hand on his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. “I love you, Connor. I will always love you.” “I love you, M/n.”

[babyspiderling]

LINDSEY’S MASTERLIST

Request list

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker/ Darth Vader

Darth Vader x Diabetic!Reader

Anakin Skywalker Headcanons

Darth Vader x Spy!Reader

Darth Vader x healer!reader

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Luke Skywalker

Luke Skywalker x reader wedding

Luke Skywalker x Hanahaki!reader Angst

Han Solo

Kylo Ren/ Ben Solo

Kylo Ren x Princess Reader

Ben Solo x Reader, High School AU

Poe Dameron

Poe x Rebelspy!Reader 

Break-up and Make-up Poe Dameron x Reader

Finn

Matt The Radar Technician

Armitage Hux

Armitage Hux x Male reader Headcanons

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes

Steve Rogers

Peter Parker

“Don’t hold your breathe” Peter Parker x reader angst

“Hearts Far From Home” Peter Parker x reader series

Loki Laufeyson

Theatre:

Jack Kelly (Newsies)

Jack Kelly x Baker!Reader

Jack Kelly x reader angst

Jack Kelly x Reader, Marry You

Morris Delancey (Newsies)

Connor Murphy (DEH)

Jeremy Heere (BMC)

Michael Mell (BMC)

Thomas Jefferson 

Lafayette 

Stranger Things:

Steve Harrington

“Control” Steve Harrington x reader

Jonathan Byers

Billy Hargrove

80′s People:

Ted “Theodore” Logan

Marty Mcfly

Michael Jackson

The Moonwalker and the Time-Traveler Prologue

Tiny Dancer        p.2

Up to Interpretation

The Captain and his Sergeant

Little Red Corvette       p.2

David Bowie

Harry Potter:

Remus Lupin

Sirius Black

Severus Snape

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Cedric Diggory

A Little Early

Bill Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Draco Malfoy

Hermione Granger

Yule Ball Anxieties

Miscellaneous: 

Daveed Diggs

Under The Lights

Circles, Angst

Johan Johnson

Fool-ish In Love

Last Update 4/27/2021

[generallyclumsy]

Self Hatred

Requested by @shoochi

Connor Murphy x trans!reader (FtM)

Warning: Dysphoria, self hatred, cursing, a trans guy written by a cis woman, not very well written or edited, idk prolly more. If you need me to tag anything else just let me know.

Word Count: 1.2 thousand words?

A/N: this came out a lot more angsty than I mean for it to be but I hope the fluff that’s there is enough. I also tried really hard to make this as accurate as I could although I feel like it comes off a bit vague. Also proofing this I realized that like, I talk about the reader being trans but the way I wrote it pronouns never come up I’m so sorry. God. I hope this is what you wanted and that I wrote it ok.

Requests open!

***

You had seen Connor around, although you’d never talked to him outside of short conversations in English where the two of you would discuss politics or the homework neither of you did. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who talked much to anyone, so you always assumed you were no exception. You didn’t take it personally when you sat down and he didn’t even look up from his sketchbook, or when you’d say hi and he’s just “mmhmm” under his breath. But you did notice him.

You noticed the way he moved, the way he dressed, the way he kept himself, and you found yourself somewhat envious of his confidence, regardless of whether or not it was a farce. He moved in a way that was so careless and free, weighted down, but light, and the jealousy deemed itself natural.

But one day, a low day for you and a high day for your dysphoria, he said hello to you when you sat down at the table across from him. He wasn’t sketching today, but writing clumsily in a worn journal, his handwriting illegible from a normal angle, and completely impossible to read from upside down.

“Hi?” you responded, the tiniest bit startled, and very unsure of the circumstance for his alertness. Oh boy, was that a voice drop if you had ever heard one. He huffed a bit of a sarcastic laugh, and then closed his book.

“The fuck was the homework?” he asked, flipping through the copy of Hamlet that remained on his desk from yesterday.

“You think I did it?” You responded quickly, before pulling your English notebook out of your backpack and placing it on your desk.

“Kinda,” he said, his voice monotonous and his face emotionless.

“I had a bit of a thing going on yesterday.” You didn’t really enjoy going into detail about your mental state, or how inadequate you felt, but something funny happened when you said that; Connor, just for a split second, looked concerned.

“God, what a fucking mood.” You didn’t pay a lot of attention to the way he spoke, or the words he said, and instead found yourself trying to look less feminine to the friend you were beginning to enjoy being around.

“You good, man?” You asked and he snorted a tired, ironic laugh.

“Are you?” he gestured towards you with a long, slender hand. His voice had dropped a bit as he said it, and you found yourself trying to match it, only to disappoint yourself when you couldn’t.

“Fair enough,” you replied. As insecure as you were around him, you actually liked talking to Connor. He didn’t have an amazing reputation, and it most certainly preceded him, but the Connor you were talking to seemed just as crazy as everyone else. “Hey, Connor,” you said, before you could think about it. He looked back up at you from his book and raised an eyebrow.

“Yes?” he didn’t seem annoyed, which you deemed a good sign.

“God, um, it’s kind of stupid but like…” he laughed a little under his breath and (uncharacteristically) smiled a soft, bemused smile.

“Yes?” he encouraged

“You wanna hang out later?” he looked almost startled as you said it, like he wasn’t expecting you to actually want anything to do with him.

‘Uh, I mean,” he was stumbling over his words now, his usual confidence seemingly gone with just five words.

“It doesn’t have to be like a date or anything, I’m not even sure why I said it, nevermind.” He cocked his head at me and smiled.

“Sure, we can drive somewhere after school. Date or otherwise.” You nodded as he looked away from you again, and for a second, you forgot about how feminine and awful you felt that day because as crazy as people thought he was, you liked him and that made you feel some sort of way.

The rest of the day dragged on as you found yourself full of anxiousness in regards to your “date or otherwise.” Part of the anxiousness stemmed from your unsureness; of him and of yourself. Your feelings were a poker game, it was pure chance. Some days you radiate confidence, moved like you knew where you were going, and some days it was slouching because your chest wasn’t flat enough, lowering your voice every time you spoke and never feeling completely validated in yourself or your identity. But did Connor see it? He he notice you like you had noticed him? It didn’t seem like he did, God forbid he even knew your name, and there you were driving somewhere with him after school, and Goddamn if you didn’t forget to text your mom.

When the final bell rang you wondered towards the parking lot, not moving entirely slow, but not moving quickly either. He’s told you which spot he was parked in, and offered to meet you at his car, you agreed.

You still weren’t entirely sure what had possessed you to ask him out, or why you had done it so impulsively. Regardless, Connor received it a lot better than you thought he would. He agreed and now you got to go on a “date” with Connor from English, who threw a printer in the third grade, but always used the right pronouns. Hell, who even corrected someone with a classy “he did the first three slides.”

You found Connor leaning up against an old, beat up Nissan, his face pretty neutral until he saw you and smiled. Something about it felt wrong almost, like Connor Murphy shouldn’t be happy to see you. Maybe it was paranoia, bad luck, superstition, you couldn’t figure it out.

“Hi,” he said as you rounded the other side of the car.

“Hey,” you replied. “Where are we headed?”

The two of you ended up at a park around fifteen minutes from the high school. You had stopped at a gas station for coffee, which you’d covered because it made you feel good and he let you do it.

“So what’s your deal?” Connor asked as the two of you sat down on the swings next to each other, his hair falling in his face as he subtly swung.

“My deal?” he crossed his legs at the ankle.

“Nobody wants anything to do with me, and yet here you are, on a date with me. What’s wrong with you?” You were taken aback, both by the use of the word date and the question as a whole.

“I could ask you the same thing,” You tossed back. He snorted.

“So you just have no self respect,” he nodded. You shrugged as you fell quiet. “You know, you should give yourself more credit,” he added.

“You should to.” You looked over to him as he looked away from you. “You’re more than what people say about you,” he smiled a toothy smile, his eyes crinkled.

“Y/N, you’re the only person around here who treats me like I’m human.” his hand dropped down from where it had been perched on the swing chain and brushed against yours.

“Do you ever feel like your self hatred is so deeply ingrained that you don’t deserve happiness?” His pinky linked with yours as you said it.

“All the fucking time,” he looked sad now, less happy and sarcastic than he had been.

“I guess we aren’t so different after all.”

“You know that you shouldn’t though, right?” I took his whole hand in mine. “You shouldn’t hate yourself.”

“Ditto.” Then his phone started going off in his pocket, and I quickly let go of his hand so he could answer it.

He talked a few minutes, his responses simple and concise before he hung up and stood up. I looked up at him. “What’s going on?”

“I gotta take you home, I forgot to get Zoe from Jazz Band and my parents are fucking fuming.” I stood up with a short nod, trying to hide my disappointment.

“Ok,” he smiled as we reached the park gate.

“But we’ll be going out again,” he said with a confident smirk. “That is, if you’ll have me.”