#god i love that open. talkative connor is so awkward but he makes me so happy. looking for conversation in that ....

[starlightsearches]

what about “need help getting out of those clothes?” or “god, you have no idea what you do to me.” with eddie???

When It's Raining

Thanks for the request, my love! I'm sorry I got a little carried away 😅 I got this insane urge to write some really, really soft smut, and I was listening to fleetwood mac. You know how it is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

4k~ish words

Likes, comments, and reblogs keep me going. Requests are also open 💖

Eddie Munson x F! Reader

Warnings: mutual pining, friends to lovers, eddie's kind of gross, minor drug mentions, some teasing, reader gets stood up 😭, 18+ only, PIV sex, fingering (f), ring kink, safe sex, leetle bit of overstim (m), squirting, it's just a teeny bit awkward, i'm telling on myself with this one, maybe this is too many ideas for one story but fuck it we ball, and I think that's it!

The days are always too slow when it rains.

Eddie's got no commitments, no plans. Nobody was about to hike out into the woods or his trailer when the rain is thick enough to swim in, so he's got no business either. What he has got is a lit cigarette in his mouth (despite Wayne’s warnings against smoking in bed, all because he fell asleep one time), the rain on the trailer roof beating in uneven time, and an excess of thoughts.

He'd tried to drown them out with music, but the record's been spinning quietly for a while now and he couldn't be assed to get up and flip to the other side. Instead, he's chewing on his tongue, thinking about your date.

"I have a date tonight, asshole."

That's what you'd said to him when he called you up at work and begged you to save him from this mind-numbing boredom. When you said you couldn't, he'd made some wise-ass remark—something about how you couldn't have plans when he was your only friend.

"I have a date tonight, asshole."

"Bullshit, with who?"

"Connor Ingraham. He graduated the year before I did."

The year Eddie was supposed to graduate. "Was he the dickhead who chipped his tooth trying to do a backflip off the table in Mr. Holley's room?"

"He got it fixed in the city, but that's not the point. He came into the store today and we got talking. He asked me to dinner."

"And you said yes?"

"Yeah, why not? He was cute, even with the chipped tooth."

Eddie scoffs aloud at that, and then flushes even though there's no one around to hear it. Connor wasn't cute. He was a grade-a piece of shit then, and Eddie highly doubted he had changed that much since graduation.

More importantly though, Connor didn't seem like your type.

Eddie stubs out the cigarette, carding a hand through his hair and feeling stupid. He doesn't even know what your type is. If he did, maybe he could figure out how to get your attention.

There's a knock at the door, rattling his bedroom window with enough force that it pulls him from his stupid little pity party.

Eddie rolls from the mattress, feeling stiff and dirty, wearing the same clothes he woke up in—which also happen to be the same clothes he'd worn all yesterday. Not that it matters; he wasn't trying to impress anybody.

Or that's what he thought. Then he'd found you behind his door.

You're not looking your best, though, either. Your clothes are completely soaked through—the sweet little dress, your denim jacket, your shoes. You're a walking puddle with big, sad eyes, sitting on his porch.

You brush some of the rain and running mascara from your cheek without making a dent in the mess. "Can I come in?"

Eddie steps out of the way, wordless, watching as you shift the jacket from your shoulders, hanging it on the hook by the door. It creates its own little inside rainstorm, dripping limply onto the carpet. He peels his eyes from it as you slip your shoes from your feet next, barefoot and shivering in his living room.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"I walked here," you say, like it’ll clear up all his questions, "can I stay the night? I'll sleep on the couch, even."

Giving up his bed for a night is the least of his problems. Eddie grabs a couple towels from the top of the laundry basket, shuffling back to you. He tosses one down on the cushions, and flings the other around your shoulders like a cape. You grab ends of it gratefully, holding it close for warmth as you flop down onto the couch.

He sits down beside you, picking at the loose skin around his nails to keep himself from touching you. "Of course you can, but you gotta tell me what's wrong, first."

You're staring at your knees, chewing on your lip, and he knows your expressions well enough to recognize when you're embarrassed. Which is silly, of course, because it's him you're talking to. You've seen him pick up a corn dog off the ground and eat it.

(Although he never told you he only did it to make you laugh. That would be its own kind of embarrassing.)

Eddie scoots a little closer than he normally dares, jeans soaking up some of the water you're dripping, leaning in close until you look him in the eyes.

"Did he- did he hurt you?"

You roll your eyes at him, but he still catches the tears pooling in your lashes. "He would have had to show up to do that."

Oh. That's got Eddie at his boiling point.

He takes your hands in his because he's got to have somewhere to channel this energy—something to ground him—but your skin is like ice, and the anger's not going anywhere.

"You want me to beat him up for you?"

At least that makes you laugh. "What good would that do? You haven't won a fight since," —you pause, thinking hard— "actually, I don't think you’ve ever won a fight."

That's not saying much. You'd only ever seen him throw a punch maybe twice, and one of those was in middle school. Now though, he's feeling like an animal—like he could rip Connor's throat out with his teeth.

But he doesn't want to scare you, so instead he puts on a half-smile, rubbing some warmth into your fingers as he says, "there's a first time for everything."

You shake your head. "I just want to forget about it." 

Leaning down against his shoulder with a wet plop, you’re turning his white t-shirt see-through as it soaks up some of the rain from your hair. He’s never been this close to you anywhere but his dreams.

"Yeah, okay." And god fucking damn it, his voice cracks a little.

If the proximity has the same effect on you, he’s not seeing it. Eddie forces himself to ignore the welling bitterness, choosing instead to focus on the quiet cadence of your words. 

"I should have known better. He never looked my direction when we were still in school. Nobody did."

Eddie did. That's why he failed English last year. Couldn’t even get himself to glance at the board.

"It's probably not even like that," —Eddie shifts uncomfortably. He doesn't know why he's defending this guy; seeing you sad makes him crazy,—"maybe he just forgot."

You shoot him a cynical look. "Would you forget?"

"No, but that's not the point." That's like the furthest you could get from the point.

"Yes, it is, Eddie,” you say, sharp with anger, “eventually I'm gonna have to accept that I'm not that kind of girl—"

Eddie sits back so he can look at you, make sure you didn't have some kind of a head injury he'd missed before. "Wait, hold up a second. What kind of girl?"

"You know . . . the kind of girl that people . . . like."

You're picking at your nail polish—little red flecks falling to the carpet—avoiding his eyes. He can’t believe you would say something like that, let alone believe it.

"That's bullshit."

"I'm just saying—"

"Well, stop saying. 'Cause it's not true."

Eddie stands—pacing—but the tight, hot feeling in his chest doesn't go anywhere, and he hardly hears the words spilling out of his own mouth. "God damn, you know you're too good for that dickhead, anyway. Way too good for him—you’re too smart, and funny, and easy to be around, and- and, fuck , so fucking pretty, even when you're not trying to be, and god, it's like you have no idea what that could do to me—"

"To you?"

Oh, shit. He’s fucked up.

You’re standing, close enough he could reach out and touch you although he doesn’t remember seeing you leave the couch. All that anger floods out of him like air in a punctured lung.

He grips a handful of his own hair, flexing his fingers rhythmically, trying to think. "I mean- just, like, to men, you know. In general."

"You didn't say that,” your tone is soft, but guarded, “you said 'to me.'"

There’s barely any distance between you now. He can see the rain drops perched in your lashes like little jewels, your shining skin, the warmth of your breath tempered by the chill in the air.

"What do I do to you, Eddie?" you ask, in a voice soft like velvet. His heart’s gonna beat out of his chest.

The tip of your finger traces over the chain on his wrist, pressing the cool links against his skin. “What do I do to you, Eddie? Tell me.” 

He’s gotta be honest with you. It’s the only thing he has left.

"You- you drive me fuckin' crazy."

The pause you give him is weighted enough to crush him, eyes wide and unreadable, a soft furrow appearing between your brows. And then you’re rolling your eyes again, pushing him half-heartedly on the shoulder to hide your hurt.

 "Come on, Eds, you know I don't believe that—"

Eddie needs you to shut up, and there's only one way he can think of, his fingers sprawled across your cheeks, burying his nose against your skin, warming your lips against his with a surge of hot, open-mouthed kisses. You taste better than he thought you would, and he’s thought about it a lot.

Thought about it so much he’s not even sure what’s real—the feel of your arms at his neck, hands in his hair, tongue stroking along the seam of his lips. He hopes the little breathless laugh you give him as you pull away is real, staring up into his eyes with more honesty than he’s ever seen from you.

“You drive me crazy, too.”

You kiss him, pressing your body tight to his and gripping thick handfuls of hair, tugging a little until he gasps. It’s the proximity that tips him off to the shivers traveling through you, your skin still cool despite how long you’ve been inside.

God, he’s freezing—leached of heat wherever the rain has soaked through his own clothes, and it’s got to be worse for you. 

He strokes a thumb over your lips as he pulls away, letting you know that he’s still thinking of them. “We should get you out of these clothes.” 

You follow Eddie to his bedroom, just like you’d done a thousand times before—so you could smoke, or check out one of his new records, or work on your homework while he dicked around with his guitar—but the nerves he feels this time are brand new. 

“Y’know, what I said before,” he pauses in the doorway and turns to face you, drumming a beat on the frame with his fingers, “it wasn’t a come-on. If you want to just go to sleep, I can- you know, take the couch.”

You look at him with false innocence in your eyes, and Eddie wishes you would stop. The chemical reaction it causes in him is too much.

“The couch, huh?”

You touch him again, and—outside the heat of the moment—he doesn’t know how to handle it, trembling at the feeling of your fingers stroking up his chest. It’s nothing compared to the soft press of your lips at his neck.

“Just . . . if it would make you more, uh,” —his vocabulary is shrinking by the second. He’s gonna be nothing but a pile of moans and single-syllable words if you don’t stop doing that— “comfortable.” 

You kiss along his jaw, down his collar bone. He can barely form a thought, let alone a word.

“We’ve shared a bed before, Eddie,” you tell him, leaning back on your heels. The distance means he can think again, but only about how disappointed he is you stopped.

That’s true. Kind of. There were nights you’d fallen asleep on the same mattress, bodies curved around each other without touching, the river of his want carving canyons between you while he watched you doze off.

 “I mean, yeah, but never on purpose.”

You echo his words from earlier, turning your back and exposing the little white zipper of your dress. “There’s a first time for everything. Besides, I need your body heat. Help me?”

Eddie’s mouth moves wordlessly, completely dried up as he takes the metal tab in between his fingers. It pulls down smoothly, the little teeth clacking with each inch of your skin he reveals, until his hand stops, just above the curve of your ass. You shrug the dress forward off your shoulders, letting it fall forward and slip from around your hips. 

“God damn.” Eddie thinks that maybe he shouldn’t curse—like it might cheapen the moment—but he’s got no control over the whispered words when his eyes trace over the lacy pink straps at your back, the junction where your sheer underwear meets the curve of your hip. He wants to snap the elastic against your skin, wants to make you tremble, but his hands stay locked at his sides.

The view’s even better when you turn, your arms folded shyly in front of you until he can just barely catch a glimpse of your stiff nipples through the sheer fabric, the swell of your breasts dented against your arms. He grabs at your wrists, pinning your hands out of the way, tracing his eyes from your crossed ankles up, taking all of you in.

You look really good in pink—looking demure, innocent even though he knows well enough that you’re not, but still . . . he wants to ruin you. Wants to mark you with his big hands and his dirty mouth and his cock. Wants to make you his, and only his.

“Do you like what you see?”

You’re making fun of him—maybe just to get rid of your own nerves—but fuck, yeah, he does. He likes it a lot. 

“What’s wrong?”

Eddie’s never been that good at keeping his thoughts to himself around you. He knows his face must give away everything, and normally he’d lie about it, say it was nothing, but now’s not the time for lies. “It’s nothing— I just- I kinda wish you were wearing this for me.”

Against his will, he thinks about Connor again. The idea of his clumsy hands at your waist, his stupid little patched tooth leaving marks against your neck, and his eyes taking in the way your tits look covered in pretty pink lace when he doesn’t even deserve to be in the same room as you.

You soothe his worries, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s cheek, the thought of Connor poofing into thin air. 

“I am wearing it for you, Eddie. There’s nobody else,” —you take his hand in your own, place it over your stomach and press up until his fingers are wrapped around the curve of your breast— “I would rather be with.” 

Fuck. He explores you with a wide-open palm, cupping your tit experimentally, capturing the soft skin under his thumb. He shifts, and you gasp a little, the back of his ring catching on the raised bud of your nipple, your mouth falling into the sweetest little o shape. And then he does it again. And again.

You reach out to him, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. “Can I see you?”

“Uh, yeah.”  He stumbles back to the bed, blinded momentarily when you pull his shirt off over his head, your fists curled limply his chest as he rolls back onto the mattress, shifting until you’re beneath him.

Your skin grows warmer under his hands—one making indents at your waist with the press of his rings, and the other intertwined with your own, buried against the mattress with every heavy sigh and roll of his hips. He kisses you, over and over, each kiss longer than the last, growing bolder with the press of his tongue against yours, the nip of his teeth, feeling bolder when he hears your shaky breaths, feels the rise and fall of your stomach, soft against his.

And, god, there can’t be anything better than this. There can’t be. To have you here, in his arms, in his bed, your breaths ringing in his ears—it’ll dull the rest of the world. 

“Eddie.” He’s pulled off your lips just long enough to hear you say his name, and he wants to hear it again, kissing along your jaw to keep your mouth free. 

“What, baby?” he asks with your earlobe caught between his teeth, sucking it into his wet mouth, filled with a thrill when he feels your neck go taut, head rolling back against his pillow.

“Fuck, Eddie. I need you.”

God, how long has he waited to hear you say that? He leans back so he can meet your eyes, his hair falling down in curtains around your face like your own private canopy—a private space with you and him and nobody else. “Yeah?”

You nod, speaking between heavy breaths. “Yeah.”

Eddie presses a kiss to your knuckles, fingers still entwined with yours. 

“Anything for you.” And he means it.

Sitting back on crossed ankles, he tries not to stare at the way you’re sprawled across his sheets, gripping your hips in both hands. You slide towards him with a laugh when he pulls you flush against his hips, eyes wide with surprise—or maybe it’s delight—knees parted around his waist and hair splayed out behind you.

He keeps his eyes on your face, running his palm up the inside of your thigh. His fingers fit perfectly in the space between your thighs, cupping your clothed pussy.

“Fuck, baby, you’re wet.” 

You were soaked through before, but he can’t give all the credit to the rain, pressing the tip of his middle finger tight against your hole, stroking back and forth against the warm, damp fabric. Your lips press tighter together as you shift back on your shoulders, freeing up your hips to move against his hand.

Not wanting to get ahead of himself, Eddie pulls back, gripping the largest of his rings—the one on his middle finger—in his other hand, wiggling the pig’s head from where it rests against his knuckles. The others clink against the first in his open palm, catching your attention.

“What are you doing?” You sit up, gripping at his wrist with your eyes on his hands. His fingers feel naked without the heavy metal, and he flexes them uneasily.

“I was gonna, uh, finger you?” 

It’s hard not to laugh, saying it out loud instead of just thinking about it. Eddie’s always told you everything, except this. He’d steered clear on the topic of sex, not wanting to say something he’d end up regretting, and now his mouth is unsure how to form the words when he’s looking at you. 

You bite at your lip, and he finds a little comfort in seeing that you look equally embarrassed. “Yeah, but . . . I want you to leave them on.”

Fuck.

 “Seriously?” He knows he’s wide-eyed, lips splitting into a wide grin he couldn’t dream of hiding.

You just shrug in response. “You heard me.”

 You won’t look at him, but he can’t keep his eyes off you as you take each of the rings in your own hand, slipping them back into place one finger at a time. It’s a honeyed gesture—made for soft mornings and sunny days. It’s got his heart cracking in two. 

Eddie takes your chin in his hand when the rings are back where they belong, pressing gentle kisses—one to each cheek—giving you a little sugar of his own. 

“Loud and clear, babe.”

You lay back against the bed again, a deep breath in your lungs as he peels away the slick fabric away from your center, parting your lips with one thick finger, fighting for air. 

You’re so pretty like this. He’d thought you were pretty before, but this is next level—better than seeing you in the passenger seat of his van with the windows down, better than your teasing smile. He slides his middle finger inside the tight, wet channel of your cunt, feels you squeeze around him, and the word pretty has a whole new meaning. 

You take him so well as he slides his finger in and out, deep as he can with the rings, your slick spend coating the metal with each thrust, and you move against him, the pace of your breath keeping time with his thrusts.

“That feel good?” 

He takes his eyes off your cunt for just a moment, crumbling a little when he finds your own hands wrapped around your tits, lace cups pulled down so you could squeeze at your nipples, back off the mattress with the way his thumb stutters against your clit.

“I need more, Eddie.”

Fuck, he’s gonna give it to you, already sliding another finger beside the first, increasing the speed until any sounds coming from you mouth have to compete with the wet sucking sound of your greedy pussy. His other arm wraps across your hips, burying his fingers against the bone, trying to hold you still so he can massage your clit with the tip of his thumb.

“Eddie,” you say, desperation in your voice like fucking heroine.

“Already, baby?” he’s panting, the muscles in his arms starting to seize, as if that would get him to stop. He changes tactics instead, shifting just slightly to improve the angle, pressing against your slick front wall with two fingers. His thumb bears down on your clit, and your walls draw in tighter around him, soft tremors echoing through his hand. He watches you, insatiable, licking his lips at the way your tits shake, your hands clutching his sheets tight enough to tear.

“Fuck,” you try to tell him off, but the message is weakened by your little moans, “don’t make fun of me.”

“Why not? It’s one of my favorite things to do.” 

Or it was. His new favorite thing to do is definitely making you cum. With his rings grazing your folds, he feels you squeeze around his fingers, thighs shaking at his sides, and he’s more than content to watch you put the pieces of yourself back together, brushing your clit once or twice because he likes the way you spasm.

He slides from you, flopping down on the pillow beside you with a stupid grin, wiping his hand off on the sheets so he could turn your eyes towards him, holding your face in his hands. 

You’ve finally got enough of your breath back to respond, face covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Fuck you, Munson.”

“You want to?”

You want to? Typical smart-ass comment—Eddie’s said that to most of the people he knows, since he hears fuck you pretty regularly. The asshole jocks at Hawkins High never knew what to do when their threats of violence were met with his indifference, and his friends always got a kick out of it. He’s never said it to you before, though. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take it when you inevitably said no. 

So his heart’s beating a little too fast for his liking when you plant a hand against his chest, catching his lips against your own in a gentle kiss. “Yeah. I want to.” 

He just barely manages to resist the urge to say really?, still in shock when your palm grazes over his crotch, popping the button of his jeans.

“You got something?” 

He can only nod, reaching into his nightstand drawer as you help him shimmy from his pants, kissing you, harsh and open-mouthed, so you won’t think about how awkward he is at doing both.

Eddie’s palms are too sweaty to reliably tear open the condom package, so he opts to use his teeth, shucking his boxers off and kicking them to the edge of the bed up on his knees.

 “Wow.”

You’re staring at him, wide-eyed, tongue peeking out between your plush lips. Staring at his dick.

“What is it?”

His voice is high and vulnerable—cracking like a fucking middle-schooler. Nobody’s ever told him that there was anything weird about his cock, but it would be just his luck that all of them were too polite—or high—to mention it.

“Nothing, it’s just,”—you press your lips together again, wiggling a little, embarrassed, “you’re bigger than I’d thought you’d be.”

God damnit. You’re trying to kill him.

Eddie rolls his eyes, but he knows he’s bright red down to his neck as he shifts onto his elbows, sliding between your thighs. 

“Fuck you,” he mumbles, even though it gives away how totally and completely pleased he is, fucking over the moon thinking about you thinking about his cock.

“Please?” you ask, batting your eyelashes, and yeah, of course he’s gonna give you what you want.

One hand guides his cock towards your entrance, the other cups the back of your head, pulling you close so he can feel the little gasp on your lips at the pressure, the head of him just stroking over your entrance, circling your clit.

Your nails scratch along his shoulder blades. He feels your whisper at his neck.

“What did I say about teasing me, Munson?”

He laughs. “That I should do it as often as possible?”

Whatever you’re about to say in response is cut off with a sharp gasp as he presses the head inside your cunt, sliding in the first few inches with relative ease, your body still loose from your first release.

“You good?” he asks, waiting for your nod before he shifts forward. You’ve got your fingers curled against the base of his scalp, tugging a little at the roots.

“I’m good. Are you?”

“Yeah.” But the answer is no. He’s ready to bust—not even a two-pump chump at this point. Feeling your body envelop him is better than he’s ever imagined. Tighter, and wetter, definitely, but also more passionate—hearing and feeling and seeing how totally and completely you want him.

He’s got to start slow, and it’s so goddamn soft—the way you open for him, legs stretching wider to accommodate his thrusts, your gentle kisses at his neck, soft doe eyes looking up at him like you’ll die if he looks away.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby. Way too fuckin’ good.” 

He knows he’s babbling, cupping your cheek in one hand, brushing the stray hair out of your face so he can watch you. If he’s lucky, you don’t even hear him—cock-drunk already by the sound of your moans. If he’s lucky, you feel as good as he does right now.

If he’s lucky, you’ll let him do this again.

You clasp your hand over his, fingers exploring the surface of his rings, and there are tears in your eyes, hips meeting his with every thrust, such pretty little noises pouring from you when he hits that spot deep inside you, cunt squeezing him tighter than he thought possible, swallowing up every ridge and vein like his cock was made for you. He grips your hip tight in his other hand, pulling you closer, hard enough to bruise. You don’t seem to mind.

“I’m- fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last,” he has to admit it now—too far gone for shame—vision going spotty, little white lights obscuring your features until he can hardly see you at all.

He buries his head in your neck, but there’s no judgement, just your voice in his ear. “I want you to, baby. Cum inside me.” 

He does. A deep groan ripping its way out his chest, he spills inside you, the muscles in his core spasming as the pleasure shoots through him. He feels it in the base of his spine, in the palms of his hands, in his chest, mind far off because he didn’t know it could feel that good and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

His cock is still throbbing inside you when he feels your hand snake its way between your sweaty bodies, fingers rubbing tight circles at your clit, moving faster and faster, jaw clenched tight with a high, keening whine, cunt squeezing until you’re gushing around him, dampening the thick hair at the base of his cock, dripping on the sheets.

“Fuck.” 

His body rocks with the same convulsions you feel, so intimately entwined it’s almost like he’s cumming again, body shaking and exhausted, too tired to even slip his cock from between your legs long after you’ve gone still. Instead, he rolls onto his back—away from the wet spot—arms wrapped around you, pulling you along with him until your weight is pressing him into the mattress.

“Wow,” you tell him, head pillowed against his chest. You still haven’t caught your breath enough for full sentences. He’s not much better.

“I know.” 

You trace the lines of his tattoo with the tip of your finger, and it tickles a little. He can feel your heart rate slow. “I wish I’d have known it would be like that ages ago. I would have tried to fuck you a lot sooner.”

“I would have let you.”

It feels so good, being this honest. He’s got nothing left in him to hide.

 You shift your hips enough to let his cock slide out from you—still a little sensitive as it lands against his thigh. You’re wiggling your shoulders next, trying to pull out of his grasp. Eddie just tightens his hold, locking his hands behind your back.

“Eddie,” there’s a little bit of a whine in your voice, “I gotta go pee.” 

He just shakes his head with a little laugh. “Not yet, baby. I think it’s time for round two.” 

He lets you sit back just enough you can look him in the eyes, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Seriously?” 

“Absolutely, baby. I’ve been waiting for this too damn long. We’re just getting started.”

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #stranger things season four #minors dni #requests #anons #my writing #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson fics

[togansweep]

so I had a tomgreg dream last night. this is it, enjoy.

tom wants to woo greg (and confess his love for him), so he sends him an inventation to have dinner together in his lake house (this takes place after he's already divorced shiv).

tom is waiting outside the house, all nervous & dressed up (in that white suit he wore in all the bells say) and after a little while he sees greg arriving. but not just greg, no no. also shiv. and roman. and kendall. and connor & willa. and logan. the whole fucking roy family. so apparently he accidentally invited the entire family instead of just greg (don't ask me how he managed to do this)

of course he starts completely panicking because he doesn't want to have a fucking romantic dinner with his love interest, his ex-wife who also happens to be his love interest's cousin & his ex in-laws. the problem is that this nice little dinner he planned was romance-themed & incredibly cheesy. think rose petals. a violin player. the whole nine.

he can't really send them away now, how would he explain that? so tom tries to keep his cool and greets the guests (who are all kinda confused why they're here and think there's probably an emergency or something very important going on), then he quickly goes inside to get one of his guys to fix a bigger table.

they start the first course and it is... incredibly awkward. understandably. roman makes a comment about the rose petals and tom brushes it off with some god awful joke about having romantic dinners with himself in his free time. tom is angry at roman because he stole his chair right in front of him and now he doesn't even get to sit next to greg. instead he sits next to shiv, and the tension is immense. they don't say much to each other but when they do it's offhanded mean remarks. meanwhile greg keeps talking with kendall about some stupid musician tom's never heard of.

because of this whole horrifying situation tom drinks a little more than he should. a LOT more than he should. at the end of the main course he's completely hammered. he starts saying anything to get attention from greg, which, of course, receives some raised eyebrows from the others. he becomes a clingy ass motherfucker and at one point he tries to sit on the same chair as greg (he's VERY drunk) and is touching him way too much considering he's in front of his ex in-laws.

greg just sort of... laughs it off and tries to get tom to leave his chair (without much luck).

the worst thing hasn't happened yet. oh no. because this whole thing was tom's plan to confess his feelings to greg. so he bought a VERY expensive gorgeous watch with some sort of dramatic nero & sporus inscription (I read about this in a fic so that's probably why it returned in my dream) & erranged for his butler to hand it over to greg during dessert. and he completely forgot to cancel it after the rest of the family arrived.

so the butler gives greg the box with the watch, he opens it and reads the inscription. out loud. his cheeks turn red. tom's heart stops beating, this couldn't be happening, no no no no no. everyone is looking in shock. logan makes a homophobic comment (because of course he fucking does) and tom tries to tell everyone that it's a friend gift and that they're just friends, really really good friends. but then shiv says that it's quite obvious he's completely besotted with cousin greg from the way he's been acting all evening and then it becomes all too much.

tom completely explodes, he starts crying & screaming that they're all horrible people and that they should all leave his house and never return, or he'll send a hitman to kill every single one of them.

he runs outside to one of his boats (I guess his post-divorce hobby is collecting boats), goes inside, cries some more & then blacks out (from all the alcohol & emotions, he's incredibly exhausted).

tom awakes about an hour later to someone tapping lightly on his shoulder. he opens his eyes. it's greg. "go away." but greg doesn't go away. tom tells him that if he doesn't go away he's gonna send a hitman after him to kill him like he said before. greg doesn't say anything in return, he just hugs him. then he says that all the others have left, so he doesn't need to worry about that. and that he's sorry for reading the inscription out loud. tom replies that it's alright.

and then tom remembers something else, something he planned to do after giving greg the watch. "come on" he says. they get out of the boat, and greg follows tom into the woods until they reach a ruin. a roman ruin. (this doesn't make sense because they're in america but it's a dream so everything's possible, right?)

and then tom kisses him. and to his surprise, greg's kissing him back. turns out it isn't the worst night of his life after all.

#I might turn this into an actual fanfic if I'm in the mood #can't believe my unconscious came up with all this #tomgreg #tom wambsgans #greg hirsch #succession #vi's stuff

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Hello i would kill for some awkward Connor attempting to comfort Chris during training please and thank you

Follow-up to this piece from yesterday

CW: Pet whump, implied whump of a minor, bruising, some dehumanizing language, BBU, facility whump, creepy comfort, The Moral Standards of Monsters, some implied conditioning due to ableism (blink-and-you’ll-miss-it)

“Hey, Manning.”

Connor looks up from his lunch - he’s at his desk in his training room, a sandwich, bag of chips, and bottle of his iced coffee set out in front of him while he finishes up paperwork from the last trainee’s fitness reports - and sighs. Fucking Luke goddamn Petrus. “Yeah?”

For a second, his stomach flips. Linda swore up and down that the complaint would be anonymous, and Connor isn’t the only person in the hallway who has brought up the screaming being… irritating… but still.

Luke is Director Renford’s favorite in a big way, her loyal henchman, and he can make a handler’s life a living hell if he wants to.

Luke leans against the open doorway, giving him a bright smile. Above the expression, though, Luke’s blue eyes stay cold as ice. Like the Director, Connor thinks sometimes. Two fucking peas in a pod, and Connor’s always a little bit on the outside.

Lately, though, he’s been feeling kind of grateful he’s on the outskirts. The Director’s approval is something everyone works for, but having her focus on you too long and too thoroughly sounds as terrifying as her anger.

“I just got called up to a meeting with Renford.”

Renford. Like they’re buddies. Like he’s equals with her. Connor keeps his mouth shut, but he wonders how the Director would react if she knew he calls her Renford when she’s not right in front of him. “Good for you. I don’t see why that should affect my lunch break.”

“The meeting could last a few hours. I know you’ve got the afternoon off from trainee work. Would you mind keeping an eye on one of mine? He’s just out of a week in solitary, so he’s needy as fuck.”

Connor perks up a little at that. Needy trainee and unscheduled afternoon sounds like just the pick-me-up he needs today. “He need any training work?”

“Nah. Do whatever you want with him.” Luke gives Connor a wink. “He’s got some top notch fucking flexibility. Just saying. You can twist him into pretzels. Tell him he’s being good and he’ll do it all himself. Kid’s eager as fuck now that we’re past the halfway point.”

Kid?

Connor swears internally but keeps his expression carefully the same. “What do you mean, kid, Luke? Wait a sec-”

“I’ll bring him in, hold on!” Luke’s already gone from the doorway.

Connor has a sinking feeling of realization that Luke didn’t just randomly decide to leave a trainee with him. He must’ve figured out who put the fucking complaint in. And he knows that Connor hates the screaming, if he knows that.

Which means…

Luke reappears, and sure enough, the little redheaded trainee who is the cause of all the wailing and sobbing is right beside him.

No weights hanging from his hands this time, but there are deep red marks around his wrists and bruises at his upper arms just below his sleeves that suggest he’s done plenty of training work this morning, whatever Luke says.

Jesus, this kid is eerily beautiful. Pale skin, flushed in the aftermath of tears, with a smattering of freckles all over like constellations of stars. His hair’s that rare shining strawberry blond, with eyebrows pale enough to make him seem faintly inhuman. Connor wonders exactly which piece of shit with a thing for teenagers put the order in.

He wants to make sure he doesn’t vote for the guy.

Not that Connor Manning votes.

But maybe he’ll start, and then start purposefully voting for someone else. That's probably way more effort than he'll ever put in to anything that isn't work or Socks, but it feels kind of nice to think about it.

The trainee keeps his eyes carefully down on the floor. Connor notes he’s not even wearing the shock collar any longer - just your average band of black leather, buckled at the side, no padlock. Not only not being shocked, or not needing it, but already far enough along not to try and remove his own collar.

“Luke. I’ve told you how I feel about the underagers-”

“Yeah, and I’ve told you that you can judge me when you're an angel, numbnuts. You’re not better than me. You just have different victims.”

“Oh, the Director would have a shit-fit hearing you call the trainees victims.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m the only one who really grasps exactly what it is we do here, Manning. I just also happen to enjoy it. Do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life, right?"

“Go fuck yourself, Petrus. I enjoy my job just fine.” Why is he defensive about this? Connor doesn’t quite understand the surge of irritation within him. Why does he give a fuck what Luke goddamn Petrus has to say about anything, anyway?

“Yeah, for now you do. We’ll see how it goes. I’ve been at this gig for a long time, I see the ones who flame out, and you’re one of them. Anyway, I’ve got to go meet with Renford, I’ll be back by three. If you get tired of him, just put him on the mat and I’ll pick him up when I’m done.”

“Yeah, okay.” Connor frowns, pushing himself to his feet. “I do like my job, Petrus.”

“For now. Bet I’ll be the only person here totally unsurprised when you quit one day.”

“I’m not going to quit.”

“I’ll bet you a thousand damn dollars you do, and I’ll raise the bet to fifteen hundred that it’s over your fucking conscience making a reappearance.”

“Don’t have one."

Luke just sighs, and gives Connor a patronizing little smirk before he turns and leaves. The trainee looks over his shoulder to watch Luke go, pleading with his eyes but not saying a word. The door shuts, and Connor and the trainee are alone.

Connor clears his throat, picking up the sandwich but finding he doesn’t really want it any longer. “What’s your number, trainee?”

The boy’s eyes snap back to him, briefly, before they drop to the floor. Connor notes with vague professional detachment that they’re red-rimmed. He’s been crying again, but then, when isn’t this fucking trainee crying?

When he’s screaming instead, Connor’s thoughts answer him.

God, he wishes these trainees didn’t get to him so much. He can’t talk to anyone about it, either, word will get out Connor Manning has regrets. Questioning the company is a good way to find yourself on the wrong end of a shock collar.

“223499, sir,” The boy says. His voice is low and soft, and each number and word is deliberately placed, as if he’s carefully pacing himself as he speaks. “Designation… Romantic-”

“Yeah, I knew that already. That’s all Luke does.” Connor leans his chin on his hand, looking the kid over. There’s solid muscle in that kid, he thinks, legacy of whatever life he lived before. It’s wasting away under the carefully calibrated malnourishment they’re all subjected to, but the memory of strength is in there, still. An easy, unconscious grace that didn’t have to be taught. “You’ve already done training work today?”

Those green eyes flash up at him again, nervous. Frightened. The boy shifts from foot to foot, then goes still. His fingers twitch before he pauses that, too. Connor watches it all with a kind of slightly repulsed interest. “Yes, sir. But… Handler Petrus said that… that if you want, you can-... can test me-”

“I don’t want,” Connor says heavily, cutting him off with a gesture. The boy’s mouth snaps shut instantly. “Not in the mood.”

There’s an expression of genuine confusion - when is a handler not in the mood? - that flits across the boy’s face. It’s a look of such comedic bafflement that Connor ends up laughing, shaking his head. He doesn’t even put his sexy, dark laugh on, but just snort-laughs naturally, before he walks over to the kid, watching him pull into himself, shoulders hunched.

“Relax, kid. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The kid’s nose wrinkles. It’s adorable. “But… all you do… is hurt us.”

Luke’s fucking technique, Connor thinks. Luke’s trainees don’t forget anything he’s taught them, to be sure, but they never quite learn how to act like they’re in love with it, either. Connor can turn out a trainee who genuinely thinks he’s in love. Luke turns out trainees who hate everything they can’t stop themselves from doing.

Some perspectives are into that, he supposes. Connor thinks he’d rather have the act.

“Yeah, well, I’m not going to do that today. Come on,” Connor says, and his voice gentles a little. “I’ve got plenty to keep myself busy with. Why don’t you lay down on the mat and get some sleep while I work?” He puts a hand on the boy’s shoulder, feeling him trembling slightly through the thin cloth of his white trainee t-shirt. The boy moves when he’s nudged, carefully stepping across the room, tense as a wire about to snap.

“Are you-... are you going to, to, to, to, um-” The boy flinches back from an expected punishment when he stammers. "Silence is, is better than stammering, try again, silence is better than-... try again." The kid mutters to himself, takes a deep breath, tries again. "Are you... going to... give me a pill?"

Connor pulls his hand back, frowning. Now it’s his turn to look confused.

What the fuck is even going on with this kid?

“Nah. I don't even keep them in my training room. No worries, kid.” He pitches his voice low, soothing, reassuring. “The only thing I intend to do is finish up some papers, go take a smoke break outside, and then come back and get set up for my next rounds at seven before I head out. This is a real break. Okay? I’m not even interested in whatever it is Handler Petrus is doing with you. I just want to do my job.”

The kid looks at him. He’s almost always seen him drugged out of his gourd, barely able to focus on anything not right in front of his face. Right now, though, there’s a sense that the boy is considering his words, actually able to think about them. “Yes, sir. I can-... I, I can lay down?” 

 “Yeah, go for it.” Connor waves his hand again, moving back to his desk.

“Thank you, sir.” The kid’s gratitude is pathetic. Connor has to give Luke that, he does know how to make a trainee say thank you for just about anything. Connor’s method takes more work to get to that than Luke’s.

But Connor doesn’t have to drug his trainees to do it. And he doesn’t work with kids.

Shit. Maybe I am going to wind up with a conscience. Handlers get fired over that.

Or worse.

After a pause, watching him go, the kid kneels down, then lays down on his stomach, making as much contact with the heated mat as he can. There’s a soft exhale, something almost like contentment. Connor watches those tensed, probably painful muscles slowly relax. His bare feet start to rub against each other, back and forth, back and forth.

There’s a blanket nearby, and the boy hesitantly grabs at it, pulls it over himself. Breathes out, eyes fluttering shut as warmth surrounds him utterly for what’s probably the first time in a while. Or at least warmth that doesn’t come with certain conditions.

Connor’s eyes trace the line of the boy’s jaw - there’s a bruise there, too, like a thumb pressed too hard into delicate skin. Coppery eyelashes lay flat, long enough to just brush his cheek. His hair falls over his forehead and eyes.

It’s like looking at a fucking painting.

“Jesus, you’re pretty as hell, aren’t you?”

The boy’s eyebrows furrow, briefly, but he doesn’t open his eyes or pull back from the mat. He curls up tighter under the blanket, disappearing up to his chin.

Connor turns back to his work, filling out a questionnaire. He’s still working at it when he hears, just barely, the boy’s soft reply to his question.

“I, I, I wish I wasn’t.”

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

#223499 #whump #bbu #box boy #box boy whump #box boy universe #pet whump #dehumanization #dehumanizing language #brief vague #ableism tw #internalized ableism #self-loathing #whumper pov #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #caretaker whumper #whumper as caretaker #bruises #creepy comfort #creepy comf #hurt/comfort #connor manning just wants to be friends #luke petrus is a piece of garbage #chris the strawberry blond romantic #facility whump

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ prompt: “i thought you were dead? for years, i thought you were dead! and i hate that i still love you and never moved on!” 

♡ pairing: tim drake (red robin) x fem! reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “you’re riding high in April, shot down in May but I know I’m going to change that tune when I’m back on top in June. I said that’s life and as funny as that may seem, some people get their kicks stomping on a dream.”

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / please check the pinned tweet please! since i’m very low on inspiration.

Tim Drake stared at you, mouth wide open, not knowing what to say or do. he felt like he saw a ghost. you were standing across the room, talking amongst others as they instantly crowded around you. everyone had thought the same thing Tim did and only a selective few knew about your whereabouts. 

you were giving Dick a hug, whispering in his ear about how much you missed him as Damian stood there dumbfounded. Jason was not in the room or else you knew that he would be giving you an earful about the entire situation. Jason always did think of you as a sister when you first started dating Tim. 

“what the fuck happened to you?” Damian screamed, finally coming into the realization of the situation, “you were dead! we saw you die! all of us did!” he continued. you bent down, giving him a hug as he didn’t bother to try and deny it. 

“it’s a long story. i was under secrecy for a long time and couldn’t tell or say anything without me getting caught,” you told him. you looked to Dick who still couldn’t believe what was going on, “it must’ve been a monumental mission if you were technically dead for three years and I couldn’t know about it,” he replied. 

you nodded, whispering to him that you’d tell them the details later, “is...he around?” you asked, referencing Tim. Dick moved a bit to the left, revealing the man you were still madly in love with. you felt yourself gulp, scared on his reaction, “oh god, I never realized how bad this is,” Dick whispered to himself, sensing the tension immediately. 

+

you swinging around the Batcave, Batman clearly annoyed with your antics as you finally plopped down next to him, “aww c’mon Bruce! live a little! this Batcave is so depressing and need I say, dark?” you said, hearing the door jingle open. 

“great, the boys are here,” he murmured, realizing that introductions had to happen between you and his sons. Bruce had taken you in a few months ago, under the guise that you needed a better mentor, “you haven’t met them, right?” he asked. 

you shook your head no, “course I haven’t! it’s my first week in Gotham!” you exclaimed happily. you did hero work out of the west coast and happened to finally land in Gotham for the first time ever, “although I did run into Damian earlier in the week so I think he’ll recognize me!” 

Tim and Dick were the ones who walked in, conversing about some Gotham football game. you smiled at the two boys as they stopped dead in their tracks, “uh....Bruce, who is this?” Dick asked, pointing at you. you stood up, shaking their hands, “I’m ( your name )! Bruce’s new apprentice!” you explained. 

the two sighed, Dick’s first thought being if Alfred knew about you. Tim on the other hand didn’t exactly respond as quick. you were oddly excitable, not exactly the personality that ran rampant across the ‘family’, “apprentice or daughter?” Dick asked, a bit playfully. 

“she’s an apprentice. no need to adopt someone who’s already an adult,” he replied as he stood up himself, “she came from the west coast so she doesn’t exactly know her way around here. it’d be helpful if one of you showed her around. I don’t trust Jason or Damian enough,” he said, walking to another one of the computers. 

“Stephanie isn’t around?” Damian asked, walking inside of the cave, “she’s already acquainted with her and she isn’t available to do it right now so it’s up to Dick or you Tim,” Bruce repeated. Dick looked to his brother with his eyebrow lifted up, “well?” he asked Tim. 

the two of them went to look at you who was already not paying attention to what was going on. you were nose deep into a computer with music blaring inside of your headphones, “I swear that girl has ADHD or something,” Damian murmured to his brothers, “but I think Drake should do it! you just love getting to know people, don’t you?” Damian pressured. 

Bruce nodded in agreement, “it’s settled, you’re showing her around!” Tim stared at Damian, ready to attack the gremlin with his bare hands, “appreciate it Tim!” you yelled from your seat, surprising the three who thought you couldn’t hear what they were saying. 

+

it was already a few months into your internship with the Batfamily. you had gotten closer with Jason, Stephanie, and because of your relationship with Dick, you befriended Starfire as well. even though your work was constantly surrounding you around Tim, you weren’t around him much unless it had to do with work. 

“where you heading off too?” Jason asked, seeing you all dressed up, “Star, Barbara, and Steph wanted to go out for the night since we aren’t on duty so we’re going to get drinks up the street,” you told him. he nodded, looking to Tim and seeing the way he was checking you out, “why do you go with them, Tim?” he asked. 

Tim looked at Jason with a bewildered expression, “why would I be the only guy in the group?” he asked sarcastically. you on the other hand jumped up in joy, “you should!” you exclaimed, “come on! it would be amazing! you know you want too!” you poked Tim’s side in anticipation. 

he sighed, slipping a bit on the couch, “fine,” he muttered, making you excited all over again. you gave him a few minutes to get himself together, “you know he likes you, right?” Jason told you. you laughed out of genuine shock, “who? Tim? yeah right!” you let out another laugh, not believing he was lying to your face, “fine, don’t believe me but it’s pretty obvious.” 

you couldn’t say much else as Tim walked out, hair restyled and threw on a different jacket, “ready?” he asked, hands deep in his pockets. you nodded, throwing Jason a scrap piece of paper before heading out the door as Dick walked inside, “meeting the girls?” he asked. 

“yeah and I’m taking your brother as a hostage,” Dick was surprised, “did you finally?” he started to ask before Tim screamed at him to shut up, “how about we leave,” Tim told you, discreetly hitting Dick on the back of his leg as retaliation. 

the two of you walked out as you told Tim that the place you usually went out with the girls was in walking distance, “I think they’re going to be surprised you even decided to leave your apartment,” you joked as he rolled his eyes playfully, “I don’t think they’ll mind. at least Stephanie can stop saying that I never go out,” he said. 

you laughed softly, “yeah you might be going out with a bunch of girls but it sure beats being stuck inside playing video games or doing work,” you replied, “yeah, guess your right,” you two walked inside of the restaurant, already seeing Steph, Starfire, and Barbara sitting at the usual table. 

the three girls had their mouth hanging as they saw you walking in with Tim, “he actually came out?” Barbara screamed, not believing Tim was actually out, “yeah, figured it was better than staying in for the night!” you said excitedly. 

“I couldn’t even get him to come out with me at times and I dated him,” Steph murmured under her breath to Star. she laughed as you pulled chairs for you and Tim, “I’m getting first round of shots!” you told the group excitedly. Star and Barbara had followed you to the bar, leaving Steph and Tim in a small awkward silence 

“you like her don’t you?” she asked. Tim nodded, figuring it was better to just tell the truth than to lie, “that’s cute! she’s a great girl. I’m happy you finally found someone else but I will say one thing, I think you better get a move on with your feels with her because I know a few others who have an interest in her and one might be on your team,” she said, not so subtly hinting at Connor. 

Tim was taken back by what Stephanie was telling her but remained silent, “and I think she’d say yes on Connor so you better be quick,” she laughed, seeing Tim’s slightly jealous eyes. you returned to the table, giving everyone their glass as you raised yours in the air, “to Tim! for actually leaving his house for once!” you screamed as they all raised their glass and took the shot down.

throughout the night, Tim saw the way you were singing and dancing with Steph and Star, your terrible drunk singing voice getting louder as they played ‘poker face’ by lady gaga towards the end of the night. 

+

you stared at Riddler, seeing that he was ready to attack Tim with full intentions to kill him. you debated for a moment, saving a few civilians from getting mildly hurt or seeing your boyfriend get killed? you chose the latter and ran to Tim who was not paying attention in the slightest at what Riddler was doing. 

“Red!” you screamed, your feet moving as fast as they could and pushing him out of the way. you felt the slice of the knife into your stomach as you had successfully pushed Tim to safety, “fuck,” you whispered, seeing the blood already pooling underneath you. 

although you getting hurt was already pre-planned, you had no intentions of getting hurt this badly, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” you continued, trying to grab your cape to stop the bleeding, Tim stared down at you, seeing the blood gushing at a rate too dangerous for his liking, “hold on, please hold on!” he screamed, moving you out of harms way. 

Bruce had saw you giving him the signal, weakly but you still gave it to him. it was your only chance for your pre-planned mission to actually succeed and the start of that plan was to make you die in front of everyone. Bruce had swung down from the stairs, seeing the way your eyes closed. 

“she needs to go to the hospital,” he told Tim, making him rush you to the hospital himself. he knew this was the only time he would be able to say his goodbyes to you and he need to make it count, “go now!” he yelled. 

Tim dragged your almost lifeless body to the nearest hospital, screaming at the staff that you needed help immediately. the nurses grabbed your body, hauling it to the OR as Tim sat there, blood all over his uniform as he watched you get wheeled into the hallway. 

it felt like hours by the time they gave an update to all of them. Bruce, Tim, Dick, Jason, Steph, Barbara, and Damian, were sitting in the waiting area, munching on food nervously as the nurse came out of the hallway, eyes bleary with tears. 

“she didn’t make it out of surgery. she passed.” 

all of them (for the exception of Bruce), immediately bursted into tears. Tim more than anyone had fell to the ground, having no control of his body as he screamed that it couldn’t be true and that you weren’t actually gone. a part of Bruce’s heart broke seeing his son having a mental breakdown but he knew for their safety and yours, he couldn’t say a word. 

the following days were left to plan your funeral as the nurses who relied your wishes stated that you wanted a closed casket for no one, not even Tim, to see your dead body. Tim hadn’t spoken a word to anyone as he only spoke up when it came for him to plan your arrangements. 

they buried your casket with your uniform laying on top of it as they all saw your casket get lower and lower to the ground. Tim was by this point sobbing as he couldn’t have cared who saw and who didn’t. 

+

Dick grabbed Damian, moving themselves to another part of the room as you walked slowly to Tim. he had yet to say anything but as soon as you locked eyes with him, you both let out sobs to each other. Tim grabbed you by the arms, bringing you into a hug as he sobbed into your shoulders. 

“what the fuck is going on?” he yelled, not knowing what to say, “I’m alive Timmy. I didn’t die that night,” you practically sobbed back to him. he released you, now anger and sadness crossing over him, “what the fuck do you mean you didn’t die?” he screamed, scaring Dick and Damian in the process. 

you sat on the ground, trying to compose yourself, “I went on an undercover mission for league. I had to die in order to protect not only myself but all of you and the entire league. which explains why I look different,” you murmured the last part. 

“I thought you were dead. for years, I thought you were dead! and I hate that I still love you and never moved on!” he exclaimed, seeing the way you stared at him heartbrokenly, “you think I wanted this to happen? it was for the betterment of the league if I took on this mission. I never wanted to leave you or Steph, hell I didn’t want to leave any of you but I had too! it broke my heart knowing what I had to do!” you yelled back. 

Tim bent down, taking you into his arms, “what the hell are we going to do?” he whispered in your ear, not knowing how to respond to any of this rationally. you shrugged as the two of you tried to calm yourselves down from the hysterics you both were throwing, “I just need you here with me,” you whispered back. 

Tim nodded, not releasing you from the hug you were giving him. “I won’t. I won’t let you go! not anymore!” he replied. you laughed through your tears as you heard someone else walk into the room. 

“what the fuck.....” you heard Steph and Jason’s voice scream through the Batcave, “what the FUCK is going on?” they screamed in panic. 

hehehe a cliffhanger 

#DC comics #DC imagines #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc #Tim Drake #tim drake imagine #tim drake x reader #Tim Drake x Y/n #Red Robin #red robin x reader #comics #red robin imagine #red robin x y/n

[phoenixblack89]

Secret Crushes II : Trees and Tongues

So here it is the sequel to Secret Crushes. I got struck by inspiration earlier and just had to get it down straight away!

Warnings! - public sex, annoying siblings, strong language and delicious smut.

PART 1 Part 3

My wonderful lovelies - @autocon23 @fandomsaremykryponite @writingdeadangel @lilythemadqueen @boondoctorwho @darylsgirl @browneyes528

Letting out a yawn, you stretched and raised your arms over your head, smiling slightly as you recalled the events of the previous night.

You had sex with Murphy goddamn MacManus!

You still could barely believe it. He'd been so sweet and understanding when you had cried on his shoulder then there were his kisses that set a fire rushing through you you had never experienced before. And his hands! And his tongue against your skin! 

Oh my god!

You shook your head as you pushed your way out of bed to have a quick shower before dressing for school. You bit your lip as you climbed into the shower, wondering if he'd talk to you at school or if he'd even acknowledge you in the slightest.

But then again, Sara was fucking his brother, the bitch, so maybe he would.

You still had a smile on your face as you skipped down the stairs and grabbed some breakfast, scowling slightly at the mess left over from the party. Your sister was so gonna get in trouble when your parents came home today. Sara grumbled as she joined you in the kitchen and started the coffee maker.

"Lil sis."

"Yea?" You answered, rolling your eyes behind her back.

"What's this?"

"Huh?"

Your eyes widened slightly as she tossed a belt onto the table. The buckle clanged loudly and Sara crossed her arms, smirking.

"If you can't tell what a belt is Sara, you might wanna go back to nursery school." You laughed, worrying inside if she was trying to somehow get you back for the interruption last night. Hell, it could be one of your dad's for all you knew. "It's dad's belt Sara. What's the issue?"

"If it's dad's belt then how did it 1. Get into the woods. And 2. Why’s it engraved with the initials MM?" She smirked, crossing her arms across her chest smugly.

"Fuck." You sigh quietly, leaning closer and sure enough there on the plain silver buckle were the letters MM.

Shit you thought He must not of remembered when you'd tossed it carelessly to the side in the rush to get dressed when his twin was about to come across you.

"Someone must of had fun last night in the woods. Why you asking me?" You asked, shrugging your shoulders.

"I know you came out of those woods with Murphy and Connor last night. Y/N... Please say you didn't sleep with that arsehole!"

"How fuckin dare you lecture me on who I can and can't sleep with!? And if he's an arsehole, what's that make Connor huh? You didn't seem to mind him filling ya hole!" You snapped, fists balling tightly.

"That's different and you know it!"

You scoff and grab your bag, storming out the back door and up the drive. Sara followed slightly behind you calling your name but you ignored her.

"Good morning lass!"

You paused at the gate and looked up into the blue eyes of Connor, who was smiling widely. You gave a slight twitch of your lips in reply and pulled the gate open as Murphy raised his hand in greeting from behind his brother. Your sister gave a girly giggle as she caught up with you and wrap her hands behind Connor's neck, pulling him into a long kiss. You glanced at Murphy, his eyes burning into yours. You felt yourself heating up and bit your lip.

"Oh Murphy! You left this last night. Found it out by the creek in the woods behind the barn." Sara laughed, tossing the belt towards the darker twin as she pulled away from Connor. Connor gave a snort as Murphy caught the belt and frowned. "Didn't take you for the love 'em and leave' em type. Must of been in quite the hurry to forget your belt."

"Erm..." Murphy stuttered, his cheeks bright red. You paled and glared at your sister as she pulled Connor down the lane towards the town. Murphy quickly stuffed the belt into his bag and waited for you to start walking.

You trailed behind your sister and Connor, keeping your eyes downwards as the pair began shamelessly flirting and kissing and generally being all lovey dovey. You felt your anger rising towards your sister as well as a flare of jealousy. Murphy bit his lip and glanced at the older siblings in front of him before making up his mind.

You gave a slight squeak as he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side of the road, smirking at Connor as he looked back over his shoulder; who gave a chuckle and a returning smirk, and pulled you into the woods edging along the side.

You gave a sharp gasp as he pushed you up against a tree after a few minutes of wandering deeper into the woods. His hands found your hips as he leaned his head against yours.

"Murphy... We'll be late for school..." You sighed breathlessly as your chest heaved in excitement. His eyes glowed with desire as he closed the distance between you to smash his lips against yours. You gulped and kissed him back just as frantically, your hands gripping onto his biceps tightly.

You gasped as his lips lay a burning path along your jaw and found the hickey from last night and began licking and biting at it once more, darkening it from a pale purple to an almost black hue against your skin. You moaned as his fingers dipped under your skirt and ran along your thighs.

"Murphy!"

"Yea beautiful?" He replied, the fingers of his other hand toying with the buttons of your blouse and slowly opening them for his wandering mouth. "Ye taste like heaven..."

"We... We... Oh god...." You shivered as his tongue began working a nipple through the soft fabric of your bra, grazing his teeth over the sensitive bud. Your hips thrust against his hand involuntarily in want.

You felt him smirk against your chest as he lowered himself to his knees. You glanced down at him and he smirked before flipping your skirt up over his head and tugged your panties down to your ankles.

"Murphy... What are you doing?!" You gasp in shock, feeling his breath ghost over your core heavily.

"Told ye last night. Was gonna eat ye when I next saw ye."

"Holy SHIT!" You shriek as his tongue brushed lightly over your clit, hands flying to grab his head as he begins to lightly flick his tongue. You groaned and panted heavily, his hand gripped your hip tightly as you try to squirm away from the overwhelming sensations.

Murphy gave a gentle chuckle deep in his throat and cupped your sex gently, feeling how slick you were becoming from his tongue alone before slowly pushing a single finger into your core. His lips wrapped tightly around your clit and began sucking and tugging on it as his finger thrust in and out slowly. You gave a quiet moan, teeth digging into your lip as pleasure began to coil in your stomach. You felt Murphy smirk around your clit as he thrust another finger into you and curled them in a beckoning motion.

Your eyes rolled back as the pleasant feeling doubled inside you and your hands grabbed tighter onto his shaggy, dark hair. Your breaths came out in pants as he worked you with his mouth and tongue, head flung back against the bark of the tree behind you.

Murphy hummed deeply as your thighs began to quiver around his head and he raised one of them to his shoulder and wrapped it around his neck. The new angle allowing him to plunge his fingers into you deeper, hitting that spot that made you see stars.

You gave a loud groan as your nails scraped against Murphy's scalp and your hips began thrusting against his face.

"Oh God! M- M- Murphy! Please..." You gasped, sweat trickling down your neck, you were so very close.

"Cum fer me, auriolus... That's it." He whispered, his hot breath blowing over your sensitive spot before he resumed his attention to your swollen clit. A few strong licks and sucks had you melting against him as wave after wave of orgasmic bliss rushed over you. Your chest heaved as your heart raced, your breaths heavy and body feeling totally relaxed and tingly.

Murphy gave a soft sweet kiss to your clit as he pulled away. You glanced down and gave him a lazy smile, his chin glistening with your slick. He smirked as he pulled your leg from his shoulder and stood slowly. His eyes dark with lust and gave you a deep kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

A strange tangy taste. Not unpleasant but not something you could see yourself loving.

You both panted as you pulled away.

"Murphy... Please, I..."

"Y/N!? MURPHY?! WHERE YOU TWO GO!?" Your sister yelled, sounding distinctly enraged.

Murphy knelt quickly and pulled your panties back up and brushed down your skirt as you buttoned your blouse up. Your sister and Connor's footsteps growing closer to you. Murphy wiped his chin and fluffed his hair lightly before pulling you into a hug and kissing your neck sweetly.

"Seriously man! This is the second time I found ye in the woods together!" Connor sighed, stopping behind you. Your eyes met his and you did not quite understand the look in them. Something dark and almost angry as he glanced up and down your figure, taking in your mussed, stuck up hair and flushed face, the slightly awkward grip you had on his brother's bicep, the reddened skin along your neck where Murphy has been sucking and nipping at your skin moments ago. You averted your gaze as your cheeks blushed a deep red, chewing on your lip nervously.

"Fuck’s sake Con! Can't I have a few minutes to do summit fer a friend?"

"Friends don't fuck each other Murphy MacManus! You keep your hands off my baby sister!" Sara interrupted, grabbing you and pulling you away from the darker twin and out of the woods. "I TOLD you to stay away from him. He's not a good guy Y/N."

"Fuck off Sara. Don't try the big sister routine with me when you're fucking his twin." You snap back, storming away towards the school in the distance, her and the twins voices calling after you as you ran.

Trust your sister to ruin your mood. 

Today was going to be one of those days.

#normanreedus #smutty goodness #murphy x reader #murphy macmanus fanfiction #murphy macmanus smut #bds smut #Bds fanfiction #boondock saints fanfiction #boondock saints smut #PhoenixBWrites #Secret Crushes

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 4)

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3)

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: some awkwardness, and almost-nudity, and a sex scene but not the kind you’re expecting (lol) just fluff y’all!

moodboard and inspiration credit to @evnscvll​

Mrs. Alberti asking you for the rent made you realize a month had passed.  You couldn’t tell if it had gone by quickly or slowly; a little of both, perhaps.

You pulled the finished page from your typewriter and placed it in the stack.  You were finally done with the first chapter; pretty good for a month of time to work, incredible for how distracted you’d been.  Still, as you flipped through the pages you’d worked on, you appreciated that this was simply the very beginning of a very early draft.  You realized you should probably write the ending next, as that was usually how you handled a mystery like this, but you were compelled to try a different method this time and see if you could get the first draft done chronologically.  You got the sense that this story wasn’t going to end the way you’d thought it would when you’d started it...

Your evening jog took a new path this time, one which happened to run right past the smaller cottage that Mrs. Alberti inhabited.  You noticed her windows were open— as they should be on a day as nice as this— and for a second you glanced and saw someone inside…

Wait, is that… Arnold Schwarzenegger?

With a chuckle, you realized that you were seeing the TV.  As you ran further ahead, the angle changed to show it was Sebastian sitting on the end of her bed and watching it.  She’d mentioned that she was going out for groceries today… was he just hanging out in there to get some TV time, or was he taking a break from something he’d been doing for her?

This pressing question needed answers ASAP.  The only solution now was to go inside and talk to him, of course.

His eyes stayed glued on the screen even as you stepped into the house and pushed open the creaky old door to the bedroom.  Seeing the TV again, you realized that this wasn’t just any old Arnold Schwarzenegger movie— it was the best Arnold Schwarzenegger movie.

“Are you watching Terminator?” you asked with incredulous joy, and he finally turned around.

“Da!” he beamed.  “Terminatorul,” he explained, pointing to the television.  “Ma voi intoarce,” he mimicked in a deep voice.

“I’ll be back!” you translated as you realized he was quoting the most iconic line, sitting down next to him on the foot of the bed and watching the movie as well.

It was dubbed in Romanian— technically you couldn’t tell that it was Romanian just by hearing it, but you could tell based on how entranced Sebastian was by it; he must’ve understood what was going on.  The best part was that you understood it too, based mainly on context clues and your vague memory of the movie.  Being able to share something with him was unexpectedly gratifying.    

He was over halfway in, and you were trying to figure out what was going on now; this scene was all a conversation, so it was all lost on you.  Sarah Connor and what’s-his-face talking about something, presumably about how her son was the future leader of the resistance against the machines.  You realized that this was a sort of strange movie.  And why was the guy shirtless for seemingly no reason?  No wonder Sebastian likes this movie, this guy must be his role model, you thought as you chuckled to yourself.

Okay, they weren’t talking anymore… they were kissing.  That’s fine— good for them right?  It’s not weird to watch this right next to Sebastian… although it is weird that they’re still kissing...

Oh god.  This movie has a sex scene?  Why didn’t you remember this part?

You cleared your throat and avoided looking at him.  But that just meant you were staring down the screen, and didn’t that make it seem like you were really into Linda Hamilton getting sensually railed?  So you glanced to him to break the tension and nope, that definitely made it worse as you both suddenly made eye contact and then instantly looked away.  Your heart was racing for no particularly good reason, and your palms were all sweaty— just in time for his hand to brush against yours.  You didn’t want to jerk away for fear of seeming flighty.  Nothing wrong with the side of his hand touching yours, right?

Well, a lot of things were wrong with it, specifically the way that it was making your breaths short and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, but you didn’t want him to know any of that so you stayed still.

It seemed to go on forever, and it would’ve been laughably cheesy if you were with anyone else.  Normally, you had no trouble at all laughing with Sebastian, but this was different.  

“Această parte este... interesantă…” Sebastian mumbled.  

“I didn’t realize it was going to go on this long,” you replied, scratching the back of your neck.  “It’s probably good to break the silen— oh shit, that’s a boob!” you gasped.  “They can show this on TV?!”

Sebastian laughed a bit, apparently noticing how your change in tone conveniently coincided with the nip-slip.  

Just a few more minutes of excruciating awkwardness and it was over; you both let out a not-so-subtle sigh of relief when it ended.

“I thought it would never end,” you chuckled nervously.

“Nu fi gelos, ea nu este nimic în comparație cu tine,” he replied, still looking at you even though you were looking anywhere but back at him.  You weren’t sure you’d ever be able to look him in the eye again after that— not that it had ever been easy for you.  But now that he was staring at you it felt even weirder to not look back.  So you did, just for a second, only to be startled by the sound of the bedroom door opening.

You jumped up from the bed, and Sebastian turned as well.

“Oh!” Mrs. Alberti gasped.  “I didn’t expect to see… both of you in here.”

“Ți-am răsturnat salteaua și ți-am schimbat așternutul,” Sebastian offered as he jumped up, motioning to the bed quickly.  What could he possibly mean by that?

“We were just watching some TV,” you explained.

“Uh huh,” Mrs. Alberti smiled.  “Well, Sebastian, that’ll be all, thank you,” she dismissed him with a smile and a little bow.  

“Mulțumesc. Bună seara,” Sebastian bowed in return, nodding at you before scurrying out of the room.  You started to leave as well, but Mrs. Alberti stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Sweetheart, were you two really just watching TV?” she asked quietly, eyebrow raised in question.

“Um, yeah…” you replied, confused.

“Then why did you both jump up like I was interrupting something important?  Seriously, I was concerned you were in the middle of ruining the sheets he’d just put on for me.”

You choked but broke into an awkward grin.  “Uh, I’m not sure.  I guess you just startled us.”

“Yes, well, it’s my room, so you maybe shouldn’t be so surprised when I show up there next time.  You two have the whole house to yourselves, not sure why you had to come all the way over here—”

“Mrs. Alberti, really, it’s not like that,” you assured.

She squinted as she leaned in closer, examining your face.  With her incredibly short stature, she had to pull you down towards her to get a better look.  “Hmph,” she frowned suddenly, “I don’t think you’re lying.  Honestly?  I sort of wish you were.”

“Wh— why?” you stammered.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “I suppose I thought you two would make a handsome couple.”

“Yeah, well, he’d be doing most of the heavy lifting in that department,” you chuckled.

“You speak poorly of yourself too often,” she frowned again, slapping you on the shoulder.  “You’re perfectly deserving of someone like Sebastian.”

“Well, that’s sort of irrelevant, isn’t it?  We don’t even speak the same language,” you reminded her firmly.

“Did you and your ex-husband speak the same language?” 

You stopped, straightening up and looking back at her with wide eyes.

“I’m old,” she explained with a glimmer in her eye, “but I’m not stupid.  And I’m sorry that you’re going through that.”

“Um, thank you,” you mumbled, still shell shocked from her deduction and from hearing someone refer to your husband as your ex-husband for the first time.  You figured you should get into that habit soon, but it was difficult to imagine.  Even as much as you’d loved being here so far, part of you imagined that it was just a vacation, and soon you’d go home and go back to the life you’d had.  Of course you would go back home someday, it wasn’t like you were moving to the Hungarian countryside, but the home you’d be going back to was going to be entirely unrecognizable to you.  “And, to answer your question,” you continued, “of course my hu— ex-husband spoke English…”

Mrs. Alberti laughed, but in a sad way.  It was the saddest you’d seen her since you’d arrived, even more than when she’d told you about Mr. Alberti’s passing.  “Sweetheart,” she sighed, “obviously you both spoke English.  But I don’t think you spoke the same language at all.”

You furrowed your brows as you pondered that.  You’d known what she meant the first time she said it, but you hadn’t allowed yourself to accept it.  Mostly because it made you immediately realize that she was right about your marriage.  If only she’d thought to tell you before it had ended the way it did.

“Goodnight,” she smiled, stepping past you as you left her room, and her house, and stepped into the night.

You usually worked in your room, but it was feeling a little extra musty this morning so you decided to haul your typewriter to the lakeside and work in the sunshine and fresh air.  You could’ve asked Sebastian to lift it for you, but frankly, you'd been hoping to avoid Sebastian as he had been the biggest barrier to your writing progress so far.  And yet, with your luck, of course he would appear— and not to garden or hammer or do anything like that, but simply to bring you coffee.

"Cafea," he smiled as he offered you the mug.

You accepted it with a smile of your own, although you wondered if he could tell you were nervous.  "Thank you—”

You were cut off by him lifting your empty mug from this morning, which had been holding down all of your completed pages.  The wind inconveniently picked up at that moment, and instantly the pages were swept into the air and right towards the lake.

"Shit!" you yelped as you lept up, pushing him aside to run to the pier.  Still, you couldn't even get close to catching any of them, and watched helplessly as they fell into the water.

You felt yourself be shoved away and didn't realize until he was in the water that it was Sebastian, diving past you to swim after your papers.

"No, don't— it's not worth it!” you called out, but he ignored you, paddling ahead with all the determination and speed of a professional swimmer— maybe he was one before he did this, you wouldn’t know.  You chewed your nails and felt horrifically guilty for all the work he was doing, and with a burst of foreign courage, you found yourself shirking your cardigan and shirt to join him.  Maybe he didn’t mind getting his clothes wet with dirty lake water, but you did.  

As you shimmied your skirt down, he looked back at you and his eyes went a little wide.  When you woke up this morning, you had no intentions of stripping in front of Sebastian, let alone near-skinny dipping with him, but then again, you hadn’t planned on half your novel blowing away either.  

You tossed your clothes aside and took one last stabilizing breath before diving in.

“Fuck, it’s cold!” you screeched once your head was back above the surface, and you heard him laughing.  You weren’t particularly in a laughing mood as you tried to grab the soaked papers around you.

“Arăți ca o pisică care a căzut în cadă,” he chuckled as he swam closer again, holding a ball of wet parchment in his hand and grabbing a few more on the way.

After fishing a few final pages out of the reeds, the two of you awkwardly walked up to the shore.  Now that you were in your underwear with the wind blowing on you, you were jealous of his wet clothes which, while doing almost nothing, did at least shield him from the elements.

You dashed into the cottage side-by-side, like kids racing down the street— though really it was just a matter of self preservation.  When you did make it inside, you started to lay the papers flat on the table to at least start the drying process; you hadn’t even realized he’d left the room until he came back and wrapped a fluffy towel around you, giving you one of those gentle smiles that made your heart just melt.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, noticing the way his hands rested on your shoulders longer than they needed to.  Even through the terrycloth his hands felt strong, and warm, and his touch made you shiver in a way totally irrelevant to the cold.

“Cu plăcere,” he replied.

“It’s a shame you can’t understand me,” you sighed.  Only as you said it aloud did you realize that he did understand you; sure, he didn’t understand the words you were speaking, but, in a way no one else had before, he understood you.  Somehow.

“Nu vorbesc engleza, dar înțeleg limba iubirii,” he spoke softly, nearly a whisper.  “Și cred că înțelegeți și voi asta.”

Even with no idea what he was saying, the way that he was looking at you said even more.  You wanted to kiss him more than you'd wanted anything in a long time, but even in that wretchedly perfect moment you knew it wasn't worth the trouble.  First of all, you couldn't be sure that he felt anywhere near the same way about you.  Secondly, even if he did, this was exactly the wrong time— and place, now that you thought about it— to be starting something.  Thirdly, he probably didn't want to start something at all!  He was just a nice young man who did exceptionally stupid things in order to make you happy.  That's normal handyman stuff, right?

'Odd jobs,' that's what Mrs. Alberti had said he did for her, and for you by extension as a guest in her place.

"Cafea?" Sebastian offered you, stepping back towards the kitchen.

"Yes, thank you," you nodded quickly, smiling at him.  He smiled back and carded his fingers through his damp hair before disappearing into the kitchen to start a fresh pot.

Odd jobs indeed.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan au #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan fanfic

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Difference

Companion Piece to The Pool  | Masterlist

Pairing: Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader Rating: Mature (no explicit sexual content) Warnings: Fluff, cursing, sexual innuendo, canon-typical sexism, alcohol, cigarette smoking... I think that’s it? Notes: Uh... I love this man? Summary: The pools haven’t stopped, but now Borracho’s involved, too. 

The dynamic in the office doesn’t change. I mean, sure, the guys know that you and Borracho are together, but you expected to take way more teasing about it. If they get on Borracho’s case about you when you’re not around, he doesn’t tell you. But when you’re at work, you’re at work. The two of you aren’t affectionate there, you don’t make it a point to take your breaks at the same time or grab lunch together. Things are as they were. Where the teasing does creep in is when you all have downtime - when you’re grabbing a drink as a team. The pools haven’t stopped, either, but now Borracho’s involved, too. Henderson’ll bate him with, “Nah, but I bet Borracho doesn’t even know his girl’s birthday,” (He does). Connors’ll tack on, “A pitcher says Tech can’t tell us where he got his nickname from,” (You can). And Zapata? “Tech’s favorite topping, for all the marbles?” (It’s hot sauce, but you bat your eyes and coo, “Borracho,” and the guys groan and make gagging noises as Borracho throws his head back and laughs).

“Man, tell your girlfriend to behave herself,” Henderson scoffs. They say shit like that a lot. It irks you, and Borracho knows that. If he were anyone else he might lean into it, but he doesn’t. “She’s got herself handled, Henderson,” Is his answer that time. Another, when you’re kicking Connors’ ass at pool, Connors looks to Borracho as he comes over and says, “Dude, tell your girlfriend that hustling people is fuckin’ rude.” “He’s just being a sore loser,” You justify to Borracho, even as you stare Connors down. Borracho’s hand settles on your lower back and he leans in, pecking your cheek and murmuring, “Fuck it up, sweetheart.” 

--

The Magalons aren't like your family. You grew up in a much more formal household - you only saw aunts and uncles once every couple of months, and you knew at least a week in advance that you'd be going by, or that they'd be coming over. 

But the Magalons? They have an open door policy that astounds you. And once you and Borracho are dating, it extends to you, too - his mother and sisters make sure that you know it, tell you that you can drop by any time, with or without Borracho. The prospect is daunting at first. You don't want to offend them, but you just don't... Quite know how to do that. Borracho is gentle as he waves off your worry.

"They like you, sweetness. They just wanna get to know you a bit better, is all," He murmurs, "Stopping by doesn't have to be a big thing, stay for a cup of coffee and then say you have to run errands-- but don't stress yourself out about it."

His thumb smooths over the wrinkle in your brow before he leans down and pecks your lips. 

You try not to let it stress you out, really. That first visit to his mom's house is a little awkward for all of you - Isobel and Nadia are there with their kids, and you still don't know one another very well - but you're trying, and by the end of it, you get a hug from them. One of Isobel's daughters even asks you when you're coming back. You don't have to mention it to Borracho when you see him. Apparently your drop-in made the family group chat - there's a picture of you having a tea party with two of his nieces. 

"Maybe I should get you your own tiara and tutu," He teases, and you roll your eyes. 

It isn't always that smooth, of course. Sometimes you have plans to go over and see them and you get called into work on short notice. You feel awful when that happens, but they understand - they've been dealing with it with Borracho for years.

They don’t mind you being touchy with him, either. That throws you. You’re touchy with Borracho when it’s just the two of you alone at one of your apartments, but when you’re around the family, at first, you just a little skittish when Borracho starts getting affectionate. Your family was like that, too - just, very concerned with propriety and appearances around everyone else. Borracho tells you that no one cares, tries to coax you into giving him more than just a peck when the two of you are able to spend an afternoon with his family. It’s Megan, Borracho’s oldest sister, that finally kinda convinces you that it’s fine. It’s not anything she says, it’s just the way that she is - you see her cozying up with her new boyfriend, and it warms you. You relax after that, slowly. Giving Borracho a few kisses, teasingly slapping his ass when you pass him in the kitchen. It’s not salacious, it’s just… Comfortable. You’re not even offended when Isobel tells you later that she’s glad you’ve finally ‘chilled out’, cause you kinda have. Later, when you’re sitting on Borracho’s knee and leaning against his chest, he turns his head and noses along your neck, and murmurs, “You know I love you, right?” You look down at him as he leans away and you nod, brow furrowing a little. “Of course I know,” You say quietly, “I love you, too.” He nods, murmurs, “I know,” And smiles up at you. He leans up for a kiss, and instead of tensing up and leaning away like you might’ve a few weeks ago, you give it to him, and then another, and then another. -- You don’t talk about marriage at first - it just hasn’t come up. You know that he married his high school sweetheart, but they were only together a couple of years before they divorced (all of the guys on the team have been married and divorced at least once). His sister Nadia tells you, too (“Just in case -- Look I love my brother and all, but sometimes guys don’t tell you everything they’re supposed to, you know?”). And you appreciate that, of course, but you’re not worried about it. The two of you are fine the way you are. 

It’s Borracho that brings it up. Megan gets engaged to her boyfriend - fast, I’m talking six months in. You’re happy for them, though. Sure, it seems a little rushed to you, but who are you to judge, and they seem really happy. The night after the engagement party, as the two of you lay in bed, Borracho murmurs, “You ever think about it?” “What?” You’re half-asleep; the last thing the two of you were talking about was whether or not Connors wears a baseball cap all the time ‘cause he’s getting a bald spot. Borracho doesn’t say it. He takes hold of your left hand and lightly runs his thumb over your ring finger. You tip your head up to blink blearily at him in the dark. You don’t need to ask where the question’s come from, but it’s just caught you so off guard. “... I’ve thought about it,” You’re afraid to say it too loudly, in case he’s putting you on. He intertwines his fingers with yours and squeezes your hand gently. “What have you thought?” You shrug. “I don’t know… Just the-- The idea of it, I guess.” “To me?” “No, to Henderson-- Yes, to you.” “Thank god you clarified, I was afraid I was gonna be stuck in line behind Henderson.” You flick Borracho’s chest before resting your head back down on his shoulder. “We’d never last. He wouldn’t buy me the right kind of hot sauce.” “That’s the only reason?” Borracho laughs. “Well, I’m also kinda in love with you. It would put a damper on the marriage.” “I’d make a great second husband.”

“You’d make a great first one.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, and even though the two of you have been teasing, you’re worried Borracho’s going to really laugh at you. He doesn’t, though. He won’t - you’re too dear to him and he’s too good, he wouldn’t do this to you as a joke. “I didn’t the first time around,” He admits, “We were young and I was pretty stupid.” You’re surprised he’s talking about it. So far the conversations around his ex-wife have just been that he has one. You’re quiet as Borracho tells you about her, about them; you’re not jealous, you’re comforted, actually. He’s trusting you with this. “...Have you ever wanted to marry anyone you’ve been with?” He asks after he’s gone quiet about her. You shake your head a little bit. He perks up at that, and you can practically hear how his brows have risen as he presses, “Really?” “Why’s that so surprising?” “What changed?” You’re quiet for a few moments, looking down through the dim light of the room at where your hands are still intertwined. “I couldn’t see a future with them.” And then his hand is cupping the back of your neck to tip your head up, and his lips are sliding over yours in what you’re sure is the softest kiss this man has ever given you. He lifts your joined hands to rest over his heart, and you ache with loving him. -- “You need to come get your man.” Well that’s a new one. You’ve had the day off, and you knew that the guys were going to grab drinks after their shift, but you didn’t expect a call like this from Henderson. “Big night?” You ask dryly. Borracho grunts, taking one long, final drag from his cigarette as he gets into the passenger seat of your car. “Big night,” He mumbles, flicking the cigarette out of the window, adding, “Sorry.” “It’s okay, baby,” You chuckle as he does up his seat belt. He leans over for a kiss, sliding a hand between your thighs. You smile into it. “Someone’s in a mood,” You tease. “I’m always in a mood when it comes to you,” He mumbles, kissing your neck. You huff, squeezing your thighs shut to stop his hand from moving. “Wait ‘til we get home, baby.” “Do we have to?” “I’m not getting pulled over because you’re horned up.” “No fun,” Borracho grumbles, settling back in his seat and tipping his head back against the headrest. 

--

“Big night?” You tease as Borracho crowds up behind you at your kitchen counter. His arms loop around your waist and he presses his face into your neck.

“Stop yelling at me,” He mumbles. You giggle, unable to help it.

“Wow, someone really did it up, huh.”

He hums.

“Coffee? Or I’ve got room-temperature gatorade and white rice.”

“God I love you.”

--

You don’t find out just how big of a night out Borracho had until about two hours later, when his phone buzzes. The two of you have been settled on the couch with the tv volume turned way down, zoning out to Breaking Bad reruns. He reads the text, and he groans.

“What is it?” You ask.

“...You’re gonna find out, anyway,” He mumbles and passes you his phone. It’s a text from Nick, Checked public records - no wedding certificate for Borracho and Tech. Henderson and Connors, pay up.

Your brow furrows, and you hand the phone back.

“Explain?”

“I may’ve had a... slip of the tongue last night.”

He’s suddenly very interested in the tv. You’re stunned for a few seconds.

“We were talking about that stuff the other night, it was on my mind… I was drinking…” He adds.

“And they thought we’d eloped and neglected to tell them?”

“And put money on it.”

“Classic,” You sigh, leaning back against the couch cushions.

“...Would you want to elope?” He doesn’t look at you as he asks.

“Your sisters would kill us.”

“True.”

The two of you watch tv for a few more minutes in silence.

“Did you realize, or--”

Borracho shakes his head, “Henderson caught it.”

“So do I have to ask Henderson for what you said?”

“I said, ‘shit, it’s getting late, I should text my wife’.”

You’re grinning, and you think you feel a little lightheaded, but in the good way.

“You switched to water after that, huh,” You tease.

“Bet your cute ass I did.” 

#The Pool #The Difference #What are these titles? Who knows! #Not Me! #Benny Borracho #Benny Borracho Magalon #Benny Borracho x Reader #Benny Borracho x You #Benny Borracho/Reader #Benny Borracho/You #Benny Borracho Magalon x Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon x You #Benny Borracho Magalon/You #Benny Borracho Magalon/Reader #Den of Thieves #Maurice Compte characters

[eldritchamy]

I watched “Happiest Season” and no it fucking wasn’t.

Here’s a review so you don’t have to suffer like I did: if I wasn’t watching it as the host of a movie night, I would not have made it past 20-30 minutes in.

It was very uncomfortable to watch.  I feel like I just spent two hours on a plane with a crying baby.  Except the baby was a homophobic rich white Republican that I was forced to campaign for.  All of the people I watched it with, including myself, found it stressful, anxiety inducing, and deeply unpleasant.  The first thing I did when it was over was warn my best friend not to watch it.

90% of the movie is rich white straight people drama forcing lesbians into the closet.  It’s not fun.  It’s not happy.  It wasn’t enjoyable.  At all.  Watching this was an uncompromisingly depressing and miserable experience.

It was marketed as a romantic comedy and it was neither of those things.   I feel repressed for having seen it.  

Every relationship in this movie is toxic and hard to watch, with the sole exception of two other characters who aren’t part of the family both having much better chemistry with Kristen Stewart’s character than her girlfriend.

Aubrey Plaza playing Gay Aubrey Plaza one of two redeeming things in the movie and she’s in it for about ten minutes, and even one of her scenes was hard for me to sit through (the awkward and dubiously written drag bar scene)  The other 90 minutes are agonizingly drawn out and unbearable.

If you are determined to support this movie because god knows we need more (and MUCH better) representation and we live in a hellscape where money is the only way to ask for such things, press play on it and then take out your headphones and go read a book instead until it’s over.

For your own sake please do not watch this.  

I genuinely can’t tell who it’s even FOR.  If anything about this movie resonates with you, I am SORRY to hear that, because you are probably the lesbian daughter of a very rich white man running for office as a Republican, and watching any of the rich housewife reality shows probably gives you PTSD because those are the kind of people you grew up with.  

And even IF that is the case, spare yourself the trauma of watching your own life and watch something else instead.  This movie will only hurt you.

Nothing about the experience of seeing this was worth it.

Plot spoilers ahead.

The plot is as follows:

Abby (Kristen Stewart) loves her girlfriend Harper (Mackenzie Davis).  But she does not love Christmas.  After a night out together, Harper asks her to join her when she visits her family for the holidays.  Abby says yes, and gets her gay male friend John (that guy from Schitt’s Creek) to cover pet sitting for her. While running a few errands with him, she goes to pick up an engagement ring which looks completely unattainable for a woman who makes a living as a pet sitter.

When they are almost to Harper’s family’s home, she awkwardly brings up that she lied about coming out to them earlier in the year.  They still don’t know she’s gay and they have to make sure the family is perfect and scandal free because her dad is running for mayor or something and one of his donors? campaign manager? is going to be there.  So they have to pretend Abby is her straight roommmate.  They fight about it before Abby very reluctantly agrees.  This is a pattern that repeats until Abby can’t take any more.

The family is like upper-class-Republican terrible.  They are AWFUL people.  The parents treat their children like trophies in a display case, and the children all feel forced into brutal competition with each other to see who the parents will actually be proud of.  One of Harper’s sisters (Jane) is actually an okay person who does nothing wrong, but she’s an aspiring writer who has spent 10 years not finishing her book and she’s played like she belongs in a different movie, and it feels like she’s meant to be seen as the useless layabout sibling, in a cruelly funny way.  

The other sister is a nightmare of a woman (Sloane? I think?) played by a completely unrecognizable Allison Brie.  She’s a lawful evil cutthroat monster who is straight up VICIOUS to the other two, and is especially terrible to Harper, because neither of them even see Jane as competition.  Her own family is the thing she uses to try to be worthy of her parents’ pride and affection.  

The dad is focused entirely on his campaign and is more or less indifferent to all of them unless they aren’t “presentable” and “scandal free” enough to keep his potential donor/campaign manager satisfied, in which case he “expects better of them” until they behave.  The children are like 30.  

The mom is maybe the worst of all of them.  She’s invasive, ignorant in that forceful way where she doesn’t give a shit about anything except her own bubble of reality that she thinks she’s living in and blows past any contradiction to it like it’s not even there, nitpicky about what everyone’s doing, is willfully out of touch with everything she’s told (Abby’s parents died when she was 19, and she spends the movie acting like she thinks Abby grew up in an orphanage made of dirt and never had a Christmas before).  And she will not leave the two of them alone.  She insists it’s ridiculous for two grown women to share a bedroom and gives Abby a room without a lock in a basement that’s bigger than my whole house, while Harper’s room is upstairs.  Everyone is constantly barging into Abby’s room with less than two seconds of notice, which leads to the kind of tension and awkwardness you’d expect.  The first morning, Abby wakes up to Sloane’s children staring at her.

Abby is clearly MISERABLE.  And so are you, because you’re watching this movie.  Abby and Harper are constantly pushed apart by the family, and Harper pushes Abby away while pretending to be perfect and straight for her family.

Her family invited Harper’s ex boyfriend, who thinks they should rekindle things.  Super fun thing that I always love to see in my lesbian media.

While out at dinner, Abby and Harper have another mini fight in the bathroom.  Harper promises she had no idea Connor(?) was going to be there and that there won’t be any more surprises.  They walk out of the bathroom, right into Harper’s OTHER ex, her first girlfriend Riley (Aubrey Plaza, who literally just plays herself and is the only good thing about the movie).

This is the first 20 minutes.

There’s a party that leaves Abby feeling isolated and pushed away.  She goes outside to make a phone call.  She makes regular texts and phone calls to John for support and advice throughout the movie.  He’s terrible at taking care of fish, but he’s genuinely a good friend to her and it’s clear he cares about her a lot.  It’s probably unfair not to say his friendship is the second redeeming thing in the movie.  After Abby gets off the phone with him the first time, Riley comes out from around the corner and tries to be nice, saying she could relate to what she’s going through.  Abby kind of closes off from her and she takes the hint without any fuss and leaves her alone.

The movie slogs on with compounding stress and anxiety and a moment when Abby is LITERALLY forced to hide in a closet and pretend she was sleepwalking on her way to Harper’s bedroom at night.  It MIGHT have been an attempt at a joke?  I’m genuinely not sure because I did not come close to laughing once in the entire 100 minutes of this nightmare.  Harper instead sneaks into Abby’s room while she’s awkwardly trying to get away from Harper’s mom.  That’s where the gifs of the sneak-snuggle from behind the door come from.  Enjoy the gifs because everything that wasn’t giffed is not worth seeing.  Harper spends the night there.

Bright and early, Harper’s mom comes knocking on the door, trying to open it and barge in again but Abby blocked the door with something heavy claiming it was to “keep her from sleepwalking again” (her excuse for being in the closet) while Harper frantically gets almost-dressed and hides behind the door as BOTH parents come to bother them, and the evil sister’s children see her partially dressed through the crack in the door.

Later that day Abby has to go shopping for a present for the “White Elephant” Harper didn’t warn her about.  She bumps into Sloane at the mall, who dumps her kids off on her before quickly leaving.  The kids very intentionally frame Abby for shoplifting by putting a necklace in her bag, and there’s a really awkward and uncomfortable scene with her being interrogated by overly forceful mall cops who are yelling at her.  When she finally gets back to the house, Harper’s entire family now thinks she’s a criminal.

Abby spends the night alone during another (campaign?) party that Harper told her she’d probably be happier getting left out of, and she bumps into Riley on the street and gets to talking with her, still more frustrated by Harper and her family.  She says she needs some alcohol, Riley takes her to a drag bar which gave me really bad vibes and bonds with her there, telling her a bit about her relationship with Harper.  They dated secretly (obviously) in their first year of high school (which implies she knew she was gay before she dated Connor, and used him as a cover).  They would sneak each other romantic notes.  When someone found one in Harper’s locker, she threw Riley under the bus completely, outed her, and said she was obsessed with her so she could go on pretending to be straight.  They bond a bit and seem like they could be friends, at a minimum.  They have a few more scenes together over the next hour (yeah there’s still that much movie left, and if you’re wondering how it could be that bad, you’re welcome for the warning, because I was wondering that too) and they have better chemistry than Abby and Harper by miles.

Eventually Abby becomes so miserable she checks the movie-specific version of Uber to try to go home by herself, but it’s running at holiday rates so it would cost over $1000 for her to leave.  She’s still tempted to do it, and calls John again for advice and says she feels awful, completely alone, and with no way out of this horrible situation.  He gives her some more friendly support.

Abby still needs a White Elephant gift, but has no way to go by herself because Harper drove them there.  So she calls Riley to go with her.  They spend a day hanging out together while Harper is doing some other thing with her dad’s campaign, and Abby makes text excuses to Harper, who then immediately sees Riley and Abby walking by on the street together.  Before she gets a chance to run out and say something, she gets interrupted by something I thankfully don’t remember (I long for the moment this is true of the rest of it).

Riley and Abby bond some more but nothing romantic happens.  The plot only wants them to be good friends, even though their chemistry is really good.

At the end of the day Abby comes in and Harper immediately almost starts a fight with her but they get interrupted again somehow.

I have willed most of the next 20 minutes out of my mind, apparently.

There’s yet another party at this gigantic house because I hate the rich, Abby and Riley talk more.  This is the one with the really gay outfit.  Abby admits to Riley that she was planning on proposing to Harper, but at this point it’s like she’s a completely different person and she can’t tell who the real Harper is.  Riley says it’s probably both of them.

SURPRISE JOHN IS HERE.  He comes in the front door and calls for Abby.  After Abby’s last phone call he arranged for his therapist to do the pet sitting and he drove all the way here just so he could take her home.  Seriously, John has incredible Good Friend Energy.  Yet more awkwardness ensues, while John mixes some awkward flirting with Connor into his poor attempt to come off as straight.  Abby then walks right up to Harper, says “we’re done” and goes to grab some things to leave.  Harper follows her into the room and tries to get her to stay, Abby says she can’t take the hiding and the general misery, the whole experience has been terrible and she’s not sure if Harper is the person she thought she was.  Harper argues for her to stay and says she’s caught between being afraid of losing her family if she comes out and knowing she’ll lose Abby if she doesn’t.  She promises to come out to them as soon as the holidays are over because Abby is more important to her.  They kiss briefly and realize Sloane is in the doorway.

Sloane tries to run to tell the rest of the family because burning Harper’s reputation forever means she’ll be the one their parents love most.  They fight in the many hallways of this stupidly enormous rich people house (this is when “Stay out of it, Sappho” happens) and on the way to ruin her sister’s life Sloane finds her husband making out with another ....campaign person? in the pantry and or closet which is big enough to fit two people inside.   Now Harper has something to use against Sloane.  This family is fucking horrible.  Sloane gets to where everyone else is first, and outs Harper.

Harper tries to swear she’s not gay, and sees Abby watching her.  She silently turns and walks out the door with John.  Harper then grabs a giant painting that Jane spent 100 hours on for the white elephant and smashes it over Sloane’s head and yells at her before falling apart.

Abby and John have another heartfelt conversation where John asks how she came out to her parents, and she said they loved and supported her.  Then he said his dad kicked him out on the street and didn’t talk to him for thirteen years.  He says everyone’s story is different, and Harper was still going through hers, and it was a hard one.  I THINK he acknowledges that if Abby doesn’t feel like she belongs in that story, she shouldn’t force herself to?  But that might have been wishful hindsight.  Abby comes back into the house to grab her things and leave, Harper comes out to her family right in front of her, Abby says it was too late and leaves anyway.  Harper is crushed and the rest of the family starts to see how fucked up they all are.

And then in the span of 7 fucking minutes the parents realize they were shitty to Sloane and Harper and the only reason Jane turned out okay is because they gave up on her, they give a minimal apology to their children, who also realize they were shitty to each other, and then it’s the next day and Abby is there with them, Harper has the ring on her finger, and everyone is magically happy now because the dad turned down his campaign advisor who said she could still work with him if he kept Harper’s “problem” a secret.

Jane’s book becomes a best seller and she’s friends with John now, because he was the only person who seemed genuinely interested in her passion.  He sits next to her at her book signing.  The end.

No, I’m not kidding.

As soon as it was over, I thought, wow that felt like a rushed happy ending that got slapped onto the end with nothing building up to or deserving it.

After further consideration, that gives it too much credit.

Because honestly? after the first hour and thirty five minutes of this hell, Abby and Harper being together at the end is not even something I would consider a happy ending.  I wasn’t satisfied at all.  It DEFINITELY felt like Abby ending up with Riley would have been a better movie.

If I had been told beforehand that a lesbian romcom starring Kristen Stewart and Mackenzie Davis, and featuring Aubrey Plaza as Gay Aubrey Plaza would have been an absolutely miserable experience that was hard to sit through and nothing but unpleasant to watch, I would probably have been shocked and disappointed.  

But at least I would have not seen this movie.  That is my gift to you.  Please do NOT watch this.

It was marketed as a romantic comedy and it lived up to neither of those claims.  Absolutely terrible movie.  The happiest season of all is one where you don’t watch this stressful, uncomfortable disaster.

#eldritchreviews

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 14

Somehow someway you had ended up spending the night in Toby's room. What had started out as sitting next to him turned into laying down next to him. And after a while of no talking or movement, just the steady sounds of breathing. You more or less closed you eyes for a minute.

Before you knew it you were waking up to sun in your face. And found a blanket haphazardly thrown onto you. Though honestly you probably just moved a lot in your sleep. A quick glance around the room tells you you're alone and by the looks of it have been for a little while now. Weirdly there doesn't seem to be a clock in the room and when you go to check your phone the battery is dead.

'Oh God what time is it?' you worry as you gather yourself to leave the room in search of a clock.

Even though you have the strongest suspicion that you're already late for work. Fuck Nate is gonna kill you. You hope you don't get fired for this. That doesn't really seem like the Cowell way but you really don't want to risk it. No where else in town would pay the bills plus give extra cash for doing jack shit.

Just as you closed the door behind you you see Toby and Connor walking up the corridor. Toby has two bowls in hand and his steps falter a bit when he sees you.

“Shit did I wake you up?”

You can see the veins in his arms as he tenses, poor guy must have a tic coming on. You hold your hands out to give him the option of handing them over so he can relax. With no hesitation on his end he does just that.

“No? I don't think so, I just woke up. What time is it?”

Toby's hands jolt in place. A large tremor of movement, thankfully you took the bowls from him so he wouldn't have splashed...cereal? Your confusion must have shown because you get a nervous laugh in response.

“It's like eight twenty or something.” seeing you visibly deflate he adds, “Barry told me to tell you you're excused from work today.” He took a bowl back from you and placed a hand at the small of your back to push you back towards his room. Apparently done with having a conversation in the hallway and letting your breakfast get soggy.

“Barclay.” you remind him, your efforts award you a shrug, “and are you serious? Because making me late for work wouldn't be very funny.”

He plops on his bed and a bit of milk sloshes out of the bowl dropping on to the sheets. In the back of your mind you think about how Barclay more than likely is going to ban Toby from the lodge for anything other than an emergency. At least if he ruins the bed by dropping food all over it...actually you're pretty sure Jake's mentioned there being a rule about eating in the rooms.

“I'm serious, you can go ask him yourself.” his face flushes as he shovels a spoonful of Captain Crunch into his mouth, “twey shed somfingu bot ah ahpawawgee for da kid”

You give Toby a sneer as you process what he just said. Even normally your brain didn't always process what was said to you properly and Toby speaking with a full mouth certainly didn't help in any case. But you can kind of gleam a bit more context from his red cheeks that your spontaneous three day weekend is thanks in part to Jo hanging out with you yesterday.

Really you didn't mind that she hung out with you. But you would accept the apologetic day off for her attempting to give you a love life. You aren't one of her gossip stories nor do you wish to be.

“First, gross dude. Second, I'll take it.”

He snorts, “Watching me chew through the hole in my face is ne-neat but me talking with my mouth full is where you draw the line?”

“Honestly I never even thought of that.”

You can't help but let out a chuckle at how dumb that must have made you look. Geez you were such a dork sometimes. On the other hand it seems like that must have been the funniest thing Toby's heard in a while as he roars with laughter. Soon your chuckles turn into full blown laughter from Toby's contagious mirth.

“I'll get out of your hair after I finish eating.” you finally say when the two of you calm.

“...you don't have to do that. I-i thought we cou-cou-could hang out?” he says sheepishly.

Toby tends to stutter when he's nervous you notice. Maybe this was to be expected you kind of did solidify that you both wanted to be friends. Of course that would mean opening up to hanging out together on purpose more often.

“I'd like that! Did you have something in mind?”

The room goes quite, well more accurately Toby goes quite as you finish your cereal. Looks like someone hadn't thought this far ahead. At least you aren't the only dork in this room or this friendship for that matter.

Toby's dark eyes scan around the room, not really looking for something while he thinks of something you could do today. Instead of just staring at him like a creep you turn your attention to the rottweiler looking at you with hopeful eyes. Connor's eyes briefly moving towards your bowl where a tiny bit of milk sits and then back at your face. Licking his chops as he looks you dead in the eyes.

Having a pretty good idea of what he wants you look for Toby's bowl. If it was on the ground that'd be a good indication that Connor's allowed a bit of cereal milk if it was on the bed well then you'd still have your answer.  And sure enough right next to Connor's butt is an empty bowl.

Yup, Barclay is so gonna ban Toby from the lodge.

Throwing out any thoughts of the lecture you'd get if Barclay were to find out you let a dog eat from his bowls you place the bowl in front of Connor. Who sits in his position and won't stop making eye contact with the bowl. Tail going a mile a minute as he stares at his prize in anticipation. God he really is the best boy in the whole world.

“Thank you Connor.” you whisper to the dog before he attacks the bowl.

As the pup rips into the left over cereal milk, which wasn't even that much, you can't keep yourself from flapping your hands right by your chest. The fast movement seems to catch Toby's attention and brings him out of wracking his brain for ideas. Giving you a moment to just enjoy the happy stim he just watches. It isn't until Connor has bounded over to you letting you pet him as a 'thank you' for giving him a treat, that Toby speaks up.

“Is there...what's there to do here?”

Looking at Toby as you shake Connor's ears around, you don't immediately say anything. Honestly thinking of just what the two of you could do in this small town. Something that wouldn't prove to be too distracting and maybe give the two of you a chance to get to know each other better. Something without too many interruptions or things to get you off topic.

“Wanna go get a slushy?”

Toby's brown eyes cut as he stares at you unimpressed.

“I kno-rrow that we're in a small town but, 's not that small.”

“Oh no it's actually smaller.”

He rolls his eyes with a huff ready to bite in with a snarky remark no doubt until he catches your eyes and the serious expression. He stares at you, eyes darting across your face looking for a sign that you're joking.

Thankfully you aren't one to leave a friend in the dark.

“Tobias, the gas station Tim works at is the only one for this town.”

“That can't be right, it's not even in town. What about...” once again Toby's eyes shift as he tries to think of any other gas stations within Kepler.

When he comes to the conclusion that you are indeed not fucking with him and Kepler does just have the one gas station his shoulders slump. Almost like he's in shock that he hadn't caught that sooner. You can feel the tinkling sensation of a tic coming up, at the base of your neck. Timing it mentally as you watch Toby go through the stages of grief you miscalculate and ruin your tic.

Head jolting into your right shoulder rather than jerking above it. Letting out a small “fuck” at the fact that you're about to be in an uncomfortable sensation, not totally unlike when you chase off a sneeze but still do need to sneeze. You feel the tic at the back of your head but know it won't be going away anytime soon and all thanks to your hubris.

Looking back at Toby you find he's moved on from the single gas station fact and is looking at you mildly amused. Briefly you wonder if he's ever chased off a tic and felt the uncomfortable sensation you're now dealing with. That leads you to ponder if he's ever even felt the anticipation of nerves before a coming tic. It's not really a painful sensation but discomfort sometimes goes in hand with pain so maybe CIPA affects that feeling too. You'll have to ask, but first you have to shut his stupid face up.

“Shut it.”

“Didn't say anything.” he smirks.

His smiles are really growing on you. They feel special and very genuine despite the awkward nature of his facial movements.

“Hey wait, the mini mart doesn't even have a slushy machine.” he says as the realization finally sets in.

“Yea we have to drive to another town for one. So far Franklin has the best slushies but it's like two hours away.”

You lean your weight back onto your hands watching as Toby's wide eyes stare at you in disbelief. Actually in this light you really can't tell if Toby's eyes are blown wide or in their normal state. Judging from the way his lips curl over his teeth you figure they must be as he stares stunned by something you've said.

“Do you seriously drive two hours for a slushy?” the disbelief in his voice is thick, but not thick enough to cover the thinnest hint of amusement. Maybe even pity.

“Not all the time, sometimes its only like thirty. One night I actually drove five hours without realizing it...though to be fair I did get lost.”

Lost in your thoughts on that particular night some how you'd ended up in Point Pleasant. Instead of a slushy you'd gotten a Mothman themed iced coffee. A nice trip over all but one you didn't want to go on at the moment.

Coming back to the present in time to catch Toby flopping back on the mattress his curls bouncing up over his face as he did so. He let's out an exaggerated groan.

“Still, Brian's got the car today.”

Pfft that's not an issue.

“I have a car.” you say plainly.

That must not be the issue because Toby raises himself onto his elbows to look at your lax form on the carpet. Leaning back on your hands with Connor splayed across your lap looking ready for a nap. Toby opens his mouth to say something before shutting it and looking off to the side. He seems to collect himself quickly but not enough to look at you.

“Uh..I, that's not really the...” well maybe he hadn't collected himself that much.

Brow furrowing as you squint at the man before you. The two of you don't know a lot about each other but from what you've noticed Toby has some hang ups about drivers and driving. Although he's let you drive him home once that doesn't mean he was comfortable with it or wanted a repeat performance. And while you don't consider yourself a bad driver you'll spare Toby the difficulty of admitting he isn't comfortable with you driving.

“You can drive.” dark brown eyes are on you the instant the words spill from your lips, “You've driven my car before. Plus I don't mind I like not driving.”

His eyes dart from you to Connor and back up into your face. Even though they're darting slightly you know he isn't such evaluating your expression. He's thinking and weighing his options.

“You sure?”

And with no hesitation at all, “Absolutely, you've driven it before.”

Though he hadn't been thinking of that particular issue with being given the choice of driving your car. It did bring up another insecurity before hastily stomping it into the ground. He has driven your car, albeit once, before and you are giving him explicit consent to drive it again. Regardless of his tourette's, Toby honestly can't believe you have such blind faith in a person you've just befriended. Then again that's friendship isn't it.

“Ok then...let's go?”

After a nod from you Toby grabs Connor's gear to get him ready for the drive. Meanwhile you take the dishes back downstairs to the kitchen, letting Toby know you'd meet him by the door. Unsurprisingly Barclay is in the kitchen when you get down there to place the bowls into the sink.

Seeing as it's just the bowls and spoons in the sink you decide you can wash them before placing them in the sanitizer rack.

“Mornin'.”

“Good morning.”

“Basket's on the table.”

“Thanks.”

A quiet settles over you two and you can feel Barclay's brown eyes trail towards your form every few seconds. Finishing the dishes you turn, leaning your butt onto the counter, to face the lumbering man.

“Can I help you?” you raise a brow at him. Clearly he had something more he wanted to say.

“I, I just thought we were closer than that.” he sighs.

Okay what now? Your confusion goes ignored as he continues to speak.

“Seriously YN, you didn't need to sneak away last night if you wanted to spend the night here, and with your boyfriend. I wouldn't have judged.”

“My who? Tobais? He's a friend!” you whisper scream in case Toby is near by. God could at least save one of you this embarrassment.

“Really YN? From the things I'm hearin' you two are a bit more than friends.”

“Ok seriously where are you getting your info from? We haven't done anything. Like just YESTERDAY we agreed we were friends. We've known each other maybe a month?!”

“See that's why this is confusing, you don't touch just anyone. And suddenly you're handsy with some new kid.” Barclay had the decency to start whisper screaming with you. He's gesturing vaguely towards the rest of the lodge before bringing his hands before him and flailing them away. As if to say 'what am I supposed to do with this now?'

“He's neurodivergent!” you say bringing your palms up in front of you.

“So are Jake and Aubrey.”

“And I high five Jake so much.” throwing your arms outward to indicate how much you two high five. “Plus he gets a hug nearly every time I see him.” hands brought back to emphasis this point.

Barclay thinks on that for a bit, “Point taken,” he stands from his hunched position and crosses his arms over his chest, “so y'all aren't dating? Nothin' happened last night?”

“No and no.”

“Don't have to deep clean the sheets today.”

“Gross and no.” best keep the milk droplets out of this, you'd really like to leave the kitchen sooner rather than later. Preferably with no lecture about hygiene and the importance of respecting other's property.

Barclay looks down at you scanning your face for something you aren't quite sure of. But you have a feeling he's treating you like a child for a very specific reason.

“I'm not a virgin.” you deadpan as the man before starts to sputter.

His eyes wide with disbelief. So he really thought you were a virgin this whole time? You wonder who else thought this, you hoped they wouldn't try to confront you about your nonexistent relationship.

You'll just never understand why people assume you're a virgin and why they try their hardest to butt into your life when they think that way. This topic tends to put you in a sour mood and you can already feel it on your face. It's disgusting how people can't mind their business about baseless assumptions.

“Jeez sorry YN,” he does look it as he rubs the back of his neck, “it's just you've never shown an interest and I guess we all got swept up in the possibility of seeing you happy.”

“I am happy?”

“I mean in a relationship, happy in a romantic relationship.” He claps his hands gently on your shoulders. A touch you've gotten used too, had you not wanted it you would've taken a step back.

“Kirby's not in a relationship.” you point out.

“Kirby's gross, and you're adorable.” he chuckles at your glare, “a-dor-a-ble.”

“I will bite you.” he lets go of you with a laugh.

“We're just...trying to keep you safe.” he sighs, and though you don't understand what any of their weirdness has to do with “keeping you safe” you nod. Just to get this over with faster.

“Can I leave now? Tobais and I were gonna get slushies.” he didn't need to know your plans but you didn't want him assuming you two were sneaking off for a date.

“Yea yea, sorry for keeping you.” he leans against the counter as you grab your basket and head out of the kitchen and towards the main door.

Toby and Connor were already waiting for you. If the swaying of his weight was anything to go by they'd been waiting for you for a bit. Seeing you coming his subconscious movement stops and he opens the door. Keeping it open for you.  You lead him over to your Soul as you look through the basket for the keys.

“Keys?” he questions as you pat your pockets.

Toby stops walking with you as you begin to panic. You've lost your keys. Before you voice that though you look through the basket once more, placing it on the hood of your car so you can use both hands to check. His eyes follow you and are caught by a gentle swaying.

“You are a serial killer's wet dream.”

He opens your passenger side door and comes out holding your keys that had been in the ignition. If the blank look he gives you is anything to go by he's not impressed.

“I,I,I was in a hurry!” you say flustered that you did something so stupid. His expression doesn't change.

“Could you pop the trunk please?” you ask not looking in his direction.

The click of the lock is all you need to hear before you rush around him to place the basket in the back. As you do you catch sight of the deer skull still in your trunk. With everything going on you hadn't been to see Madeleine for a mount for the guy. You'll have to remember to stop by her shop this week.

Toby had already gotten Connor situated in the back by the time you sat down in the passengers seat. After buckling in and plugging your phone in to charge you stare ahead of you waiting for Toby to start driving. When you look over at him you see he's staring right back at you with a brow raised.

“Yes?”

“Where are we going?”

Yes the key detail of any road trip, the driver needs to know the destination. Unfortunately for you and Toby you've forgotten to tell him one crucial detail. You drive with no sense of direction. And you relay this to Toby. He looks seconds away from getting out of the car and claiming he's never seen you before much less ever been friends with you.

He takes a deep breath and collects himself.

“Y'know what Brian's worse with directions.” he says more to himself than to you.

He calmly puts the car in gear and heads off to town. No input from Connor, you may have chosen a really good day for this drive. Your phone hits one percent as you pass Resort Row. You know the Hornet's Nest is coming up and that intersection leads to the interstate despite not having legible signs.

“Hey when you get to the Hornet's Nest swing right then drive straight, we'll end up on route 3 onto the interstate.”

“Hornets' nest?”

“It's a skate/stunt park. You'll see it after we get away from the mountain.”

Just as you said Toby saw the Hornet's Nest as he turned onto the road leaving the mountain. By the time you were on route 3 your phone had charged up to seven percent. Enough to turn it on and put on a playlist. You put on one of your sea shanty and folk punk combos.

Toby hasn't even let the song get thirty seconds under way. “No vetoed, we are not listening to sea shanties.”

So he does have music preferences, fair enough. You switch to a playlist with a more chilled electric vibe that has a few oldies tossed into the mix. Toby hasn't heard this playlist before and you are determined to learn his music tastes today.

“Wait wait wait, so you'll listen to folk punk but not sea shanties?”

“How are those even related?”

“They are literally the same thing.”

The two of you continue to bicker back and forth about how similar, or different, shanties and folk punk are. Occasionally it's broken when you read a sign, noticing Toby's horrible squinting, to see if you're on the right route to...well you don't know the destination Toby's been ignoring most of the exits for the past forty minutes though you're sure you two could find a gas station with a slushy machine at any one of the surrounding towns.

You don't mind though you're really enjoying the ride. The soft sounds of the car cutting through the wind at seventy three miles an hour. And the dull hum from the engine falling into the background as They Might Be Giants plays softly through the radio. With a majority of his focus being directed to the road  and the handful of other cars around you, your conversation is limited to topics that don't require much thinking. Really you've just ended up playing twenty questions with the other pulling uno reverse.

Not life altering secrets or deep talks...well until the question was favorite romantic comedy.

“How is Venom a romantic comedy?” Toby laughs after you answer.

“They kiss!” Toby just snorts.

“No Venom in Anne's body kisses Eddie.”

“Yes Venom kissed Eddie. Romance.”

You hear the murmur of 'oh my fucking God' come from Toby as you giggle in your seat. Having been egged on by that simple phrase you continue.

“Eddie is always giving Venom chocolates.”

“Oh yes, sorry, that's very romance.” Toby laughs out rolling his eyes.

“Thank you, I'm glad I could enlighten...” you pause as a sign for the next exit catches your eye. Had you two already driven two hours? Time really does fly when you're having fun. “Hey next exit, Franklin.”

“Thanks got it.” this time he turns on the blinker to get over into the exiting lane.

“What gas station am I looking for?” smart man. He's stopped asking for specific directions and is now asking for a land marker.

“Giant baby.” the car comes to a stop at a red light and Toby takes his eyes off the road to face you.

“...is this...will I just know when I see it.” “When you see it” you say the last part in unison with him nodding solemnly.

To his credit Toby has gone a long way with your weird antics, despite being your official friend for less than a full day. Keeping up with this pattern he doesn't ask anymore questions about this giant baby, keeping his eyes peeled for anything worthy of that title. His valent efforts are rewarded not even ten blocks from the turnpike.

“Is that...”

“Giant baby.” you nod knowing he sees the giant opposum decal in the window of the beat up gas station.

Opening your glove box you remove a spare mask for yourself before offering a sealed in package one for Toby. Who readily takes it after he parks your car in front of the store. Turning to look at you, you can read all the skepticism on his face. It's funny how this is where he questions you, your destination and not like the way over here-or the moment right after you told him you had no sense of direction.

“They have the four divide mega slush.”

“What the hell is that?”

With a coy smile you put on your mask and exit the car waiting at the front for your friend to get his shit together. He doesn't take long to follow you, Connor's lead in hand, into the gas station.

For as dingy and beat up as it looks on the outside it isn't bad once you step inside. Might actually be cleaner than the mini mart in Kelper. Toby glances around taking a mental tally of all the patrons in the store and their positions. He does this a bit. Just hyper aware of everyone when in enclosed spaces.

Dragging him over to the slushy machine after acknowledging the cashier's greeting. Showing him the four divider mega slush cup you demonstrate how it works. Choosing the only three flavors you like and adding a random extra of the three into the forth slot.

The face he makes when you stick the straw in the middle is priceless.

Toby demonstrates how a slushy should be made. Grabbing the single cup and over filling it with cherry flavored ice. He doesn't pick up a straw and you two make your way to the counter.

Since Toby drove here you had no problem paying but he was quicker to get his wallet out and hand the cashier a ten for your slushies. They give him back his change and you two wind up back in the car, taking off your masks.

You take a long sip from you drink.

“I can't believe we drove for two hours for you to just wreck your taste buds.” a playful disdain in his voice.

“Not 'we', you.”

He cuts his eyes at you before shaking his slushy into his open mouth. Guess he couldn't use a straw when he was missing part of his cheek. No suction there.

“So?” you say adding the questioning lilt to your voice.

He shrugs, “It's good.”

“Worth the drive?” He shakes his head.

“Nah - drive made it worth it.”

#Timothy Wright #ticci toby #ticcitoby #ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby x reader #tobias erin rogers #timothy wright x reader #timothy wright x brian thomas #Brian Thomas #brian thomas x reader #creepypasta fanfic #a cure for insomnia #masky x reader

[callmemythicalminx]

Birds and the Bees 4- DBH Connor x Reader

Can be read as a stand alone!

Fandom: Detroit:Become Human

Warning: Talking ‘bout sex, Awkwardness

Summary: Now that you and Connor have been doing ‘The Devil’s Tango’ for a few months now, you’ve noticed something recently that seems too insane to be true. It’s time for you to see if it’s actually possible. 

A/N: I had to write another part of BATB for my first fanfic back after being away for so long. You guys really love this series and it’s one of my favourites too. Every since finishing part 3.5, I always wanted to add more as there’s definitely more ideas to be told with Connor and his innocense. I feel like this might be the last one, but who knows, I might write more in the future...

-----------------

What. The. Fuck! 

This is actually happening. The stick in your hands confirms it- you’re pregnant. For the past two months, you’d noticed that you’d missed a few periods, nearly every morning waking up with a trip to the bathroom to throw up and your tiredness had been getting worse everyday too. You’d had initial ideas that it might just be stress or your irregular cycle making you feel ill, but eventually you had to come to the absolutely insane idea that you may actually be pregnant with Connor’s baby. 

You’d tried to put off taking a test because your mind refused to believe this could be happening. Not that you don’t want a kid, you’d love to have little versions of Connor and yourself running around. But you want kids much further in the future. And also, there’s the teeny tiny odd question of how the hell this has happened! You’re human. Connor is an android. For this exact reason, the two of you haven’t been bothering with protection with all the sex you’ve been having, as you’re both clean and your boyfriend is infertile- or so you thought. 

You don’t even know how he’s going to react to this. Will he be happy or sad? And how is everyone else going to react? Yourself and Connor have only been dating for over a year, so it’s much too soon to be having children. You take in a deep breath, sighing as you move your hands down to your stomach.

“I don’t know how you got in there little Floobie, but here you are. God, I hope your Daddy is gonna be okay with this”.

You walk into the living room to see Connor seated on the couch trying to complete one of his puzzles, the stick containing the proof of your future feeling like a burning weight in your sweaty palm as you approach him. 

“Connor? I- I uh- I have something I need to show you” You announce, breaking him from his deep concentration as he stares at the pieces in his hand.

“Y/N? Is everything alright? You look really pale and I can detect your temperature rising rapidly”.

You let out a short laugh, walking forward to rest your free hand on his arm as you take a seat beside him. “I’m fine Connor, I’m just a little nervous. I’ve just found out some big news”. He opens his mouth to question you, but your worried look has him stopping short. Instead of telling him, you decide to instead place the test in his hand so he can see it for himself.

As you move to do so, a million thoughts race through Connor’s mind. Are you sick? Are you leaving him? Are you finally gonna get a dog and you’re putting a collar in his hand? With trepidation, he opens his palm as your closed hand begins to open, his eyes flickering quickly as he tries to figure out what you’re about to give him. When the light weight of the stick falls into his hand, his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion and he tilts his head slightly to the side. You hold your breath as he brings the test closer to his face, his face tilting (nearly touching his shoulder now) as he inspects it. 

You wait for a reaction, a smile or a frown, anything. But he just continues to look at it. You begin to fear the worse when he finally looks up at you and-

“It’s not working”.

You copy his earlier movement as your own head now turns in confusion, looking at Connor's oddly very calm face. 

“What-what do you mean? I just used it. I just used three of them actually to make sure it was right”.

“So you are ill then? Y/N, darling, you should have just come to me, you didn’t need to waste your money buying these things. I am quite advanced with this sort of health observation, thanks to Cyberlife, but you already know that. Which is why I don’t understand why you’d-”.

“Wait, hold on Connor, what do you think this actually is” You ask, incredulously.

 “Um… A thermometer. As I said darling, it’s quite easy for me to simply look at you and take an accurate reading of your temperature, in fact I’ve noticed recently-”.

“Connor I’m pregnant”. 

He stops for just a moment. Then…

“Oh yes, I already know. Like I was saying, I’ve noticed recently that your bodily readings have been different than usual these past few months and on more than one occasion, I have detected that you’ve been sick in the mornings and hid it from me. I was getting so worried that I just decided to do a full body scan while you were sleeping one night and that’s when I realised there was new life growing inside you”.

“Connor… I-I… You... You knew I was pregnant?! W- why didn’t you tell me?”.

“I thought you already knew? Because of your periods? When a woman discontinues having a monthly release of blood, is it clear to see that she’s pregnant with new life. That and you haven’t been buying any new sanitary products or telling me to go out on calorie hauls everytime you go through that specific time”.

You breathe a deep sigh, of both relief and shock. In fairness, you probably should have realised Connor would have been able to sense you were pregnant- he is the most advanced detective android there is. You guess that your disbelieving of the possibility of this happening also overlooked the fact that your boyfriend is a robot genius.

“If you already thought I was pregnant, did you not question why I hadn’t told you?”

He looks away sheepishly, lifting his hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I thought this was something that women just deal with on their own, the male doesn’t really do much in most cases of animals. The female is the one who cares for the baby with her body, the male is just there to protect and keep them both safe. So I thought it was just a way for you to keep ‘the bun in the oven’ to make sure you’re looking after it okay”. 

You blink. You blink again. Then you let out a small laugh and bury your face in your hands shaking your head. That has to be the weirdest thing to come out of your boyfriend's mouth, even after everything he’s said these past few months. When you look back up at Connor again, you see him looking at you, head titled again and you let out another laugh, leaning up to give him a quick kiss. 

“Oh Connor… We’re not animals, even though we do act like them sometimes, especially rabbits,” You let out another small laugh, while Connor smiles nodding in agreement “, Couples bring their babies into the world together, supporting each other. Granted the woman does do pretty much all of the work, but the man doesn’t just ‘protect’ and keep them safe, though it is appreciated. They help keep the mother healthy, comfortable, relaxed, loved- like you will right? You do want this baby don’t you Connor?”

“Of course, this is what I’ve wanted since we first made love”.

“Wait… what?”.

“Well, ever since you told me that sex is primarliy to create new life, I have been questioning Cyberlife about installing a new function within me to make me fertile. Though I have been quite enjoying our love making, I still haven’t been able to get the thought out of my head that we haven’t been doing it properly. So thankfully, Cyberlife agreed, on the grounds that it will be a good step in the right direction of progressing human-android relations”.

“So when did you become fertile?”.

“About half a year ago, maybe more”.

“Jesus, Connor, we’ve been having so much sex, it’ll be a wonder if I’m not pregant with twins”.

“I know, I’m surprised it took that long for you to become pregnant. And, statistically speaking, twins are only 3-4 out of every 1000 births, and there are many contributing factors. Sex can contribute to some extent, but it in our case it seems to have helped massively. Just last night, I did a scan again and saw that there are in fact two life forms inside you- how did you know darling?”

“Only 3-4 out of every 1000 births, eh? Well, that’s- WAIT WHAT?!?”

---------------------

“What the fuck?! Twins” Hank utters as he places his half eaten burger down on his arm rest. 

To be honest, it probably wasn’t the best idea for you and Connor to tell him that you're having two children at this specific moment in time, eating the food that you had brought him for dinner to help ease this situation. The smarter thing to do would have been to tell him before, then give him the burger and drink from his favourite takeaway to calm him down. But as you sit there next to Connor with guilty smiles on your faces as you look at a horrified Hank who looks like he’s gonna be sick, you definitely know you should have told him sooner. 

“Wait, wait, wait, how is this even possible?! You’re an android and Y/N’s human, how does that work?”

You begrudgingly reply “It’s a long story”.

Connor however has no shame and immediately launches into re-telling the story of how you two began having sex. You have no power to stop him as you know this story is getting told no matter what because he is Connor afterall, so you simply sit back and stare down at your wine glass in embarrassment, feeling like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. 

Every once in a while, you’ll look up and see Hank growing progressively more green as your boyfriend retells how he first asked about sex and then anal, and then your many different sexual escapades including the one where he was in a meeting with Amanada, and then finally how you got pregant. Connor, still as innocent as ever, goes into great, unneeded detail not realising that this isn’t something he should really be telling his dad. Even Sumo looks sick, paws nearly over his ears as he lays at your feet. 

Finally after some time to reflect on what has just been said to him, Hank, looking equivalent to a cucumber in colour and looking faint, mumbles “So you two rabbits have been doing it everywhere huh?”.

As Connor happily nods in response, you sit in shame, taking a much needed gulp of wine, then another as Hank takes a big sip of his own drink.

 “We even did it on your desk.

Wine. Soda. Everywhere. Again.

*Sigh*

-----------------

A/N: I realise a year later that I wrote the reader to be drinking alcohol during this... while she's pregnant. Don't drink if you're pregnant fellas, my dumbass forgot that 😌

#dbh connor imagine #dbh connor x reader #DBH #detroit connor #detroit become human #detroit become human connor #detroit become human connor imagine #detroit become human connor x reader #writtenbyme #connor x reader #dbh hank #dbh imagine #dbh x reader #detroit become human hank #dbh connor

[luviedovey]

the you i fell in love with

connor murphy x female!reader

a/n: not me writing a fic about mike faist’s connor murphy 2 years after he left the show...... also Connor is probably ooc 

summary: you were Connor’s girlfriend who lived in the next town over, a little over a half hour away. his family didn’t know about you, no one did. he didn’t want his family or anyone he knew to scare you away. in the end, it didn’t really matter. he was gone. when the Connor Project came to be and Evan resigned from being co-president, you ran into him. you questioned him about his “friendship” with Connor and he told you everything.

set after the Murphy’s find out the truth and before the Evan/Zoe reunion at the orchard.

second person pov

warning: a few swear words, also very brief mention of depression and taking your own life, and Larry Murphy kind of being a dick

word count: 5,573

______

“Who are you exactly?” Evan questioned the girl who pulled him off to the side of the supermarket where no one else was around. To say he was a little nervous would be an understatement, he was freaking out on the inside.

“I’m so sorry! I probably scared you half to death dragging you along like that.. I just have some questions for you, if you don’t mind answering..?” You smiled at him sheepishly. Something about your awkward smile eased his mind a bit, but not enough. “No, sorry my mom actually is waiting for me by the-” “It’s about Connor!” You interrupted, looking at him through sad, heartbroken eyes. “..Please. Evan Hansen. I know you weren’t really friends with him. I know you weren’t even secret friends with him.. Because if you were, I would’ve known.”

Evan looked around before looking back at you, confused. “Who are you?” He asked for the second time. “I’m- I was Connor’s girlfriend. Y/N L/N. I met him 2 years ago at the apple orchard you guys rebuilt?  We both went there because we thought that no one else would be there and that it would be the perfect place to escape. His family and classmates never knew about me because he-” you laugh slightly,” he was afraid they would take me away from him. Or that his family would fight in front of me and he’d lose his cool or that his sister would say nasty things about him to ‘spare me from being in a relationship with him’ or even that the bullies at his school would turn me against him even though he knew damn well I could never.” You stopped rambling and passed him a Polaroid picture of the two of you, sitting against the chain link fence that surrounded the old abandoned apple orchard. You were looking up at Connor with heart eyes as he smiled back down at you. A real smile. This was the real Connor Murphy.

Evan looked up from the picture at you, shocked before quickly returning it to you. “Oh my god... You must think I’m such a h- horrible person for doing all this and pretending to be best friends with your- your dead boyfriend- I’m so sorry for your loss by the way- and making up all these stories about things we never really did and starting a whole online campaign about-” “Evan!” He stopped ranting, breathing heavily. “Breathe, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Relax.”

It was silent for a moment before Evan mumbled a quiet, “Thank you.”

You smiled knowingly. “Now. Mind telling me everything?”

The two of you sat in your old beat up truck, as Evan told you everything. And by everything i mean everything. He started from the very beginning, “My dad left when I was 7 so now it’s just me and my mom. She works all the time at the hospital to support us and to pay for her education- she’s studying to be a paralegal- and so I’m usually home alone. I have anxiety so I take medication and go to therapy where I have to write a letter to myself hyping myself up for the day and trying to be positive and stuff-” “’Dear Evan Hansen’...”

He looked up from his hands at you, “Yeah.. Connor had one of my letters when he- um.. he took it from me earlier that day..” “It was your therapy letter? Why did he take it from you?” “Oh! You see he didn’t actually know it was a letter to myself for therapy he just thought I was being creepy and writing about his sister in a letter to print it out where he would find it and freak out and explode or something- That wasn’t why though, I didn’t even know he was in the room with me, I thought I was alone. He signed my cast before he read my letter, though. He said, ‘Now we both can pretend we have friends.’ Which is why I thought doing what I did would be okay but it wasn’t and it never will be and I really shouldn’t justify my actions because it was-” “Evan breathe.” “Right, sorry.” “Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” “Okay sor-” You gave him a pointed look.

“O-okay...” You giggled slightly, looking out of the window at the supermarket parking lot, “So.. he ran out with your letter, pissed because he thought you were fucking with him... And then he killed himself.” “Yeah.”

“So what happened after that?” “The Murphy’s showed up in the principal’s office three days later. I knew something was wrong because Connor and Zoe both weren’t in school and I know Connor skips but it’s not likely that they would both be out on the same days. Zoe doesn’t really skip school- she’s not that kind of person.” You nodded, gesturing to get to the point. “Right, they called me into the office because Connor had my letter and my name was on it so they thought the letter was for me. I tried to tell them it wasn’t- that I was the one who wrote it, but they were in denial. They kept reading parts of my letter back to me from memory, trying to make sense of it but I couldn’t tell them- I couldn’t get through to them....” He sighed.

“They invited me over to dinner and I went because I wanted to set the record straight but when I got there, they wanted to hear everything I knew about Connor. But I didn’t know anything, so whenever they brought something up I just nodded and agreed. Zoe was getting suspicious so I started to make things up. ‘Connor loved to talk about how much he hated skiing.’ ‘Connor took us to A La Mode and we ate our ice cream in the apple orchard where we climbed trees and raced across the open fields.’ ‘We would quote songs by our favorite bands.’ ‘We’d tell jokes no one else would understand.’ All lies. And they believed them. They wanted me to keep talking, they needed me to. They were broken and I just wanted to help them. I told them that we were friends on the internet where we’d email each other to talk about our day and stuff. And Connor would use a secret email account because he knew his dad was checking his regular email, and he didn’t want anyone to know we were friends.... Now that I think about it, this kind of sounds like your story.” You laughed, lightening the mood, and nodded.

“You know, you really aren’t that far off from who Connor was, despite the fact that you were making it up as you went. He wasn’t the monster that everyone thought he was. I mean sure in 2nd grade he pushed over a printer because he had a little tantrum about being skipped for line leader, but what kid doesn’t have a tantrum at least once in their life? It definitely didn’t help that all those kids grew up, making the story sound worse than it really was. He was always angry and stand-offish because everyone in his life would say shit about him that wasn’t true or be nice to him to get close enough to learn something new about him and then turn around and make fun of him for it. He was battling depression and needed help but his family didn’t want to believe there was anything actually wrong with him. I was the only one to believe him. To believe in him. But I’m just one person, and I guess that wasn’t enough..” You trailed off. Evan awkwardly put a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it with his thumb as a way to console you.

It was silent for a moment. “I think he would’ve liked you. It would’ve taken him a while to warm up to you, but I really do think the two of you could’ve been friends.” Evan smiled slightly, before frowning. “I pretended to be his friend for so long, but Alana- she’s the co-president of the Connor Project- started getting suspicious about our friendship, saying that the letters didn’t make sense because it sounded like Connor was getting better so I showed her Connor’s ‘suicide note’-” “Dear Evan Hansen, It turns out this wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year. Because, why would it be?”

“...Yeah. She believed me too. I told her not to show anyone because it was a really private thing, but she just said that was exactly what people needed to see. She posted it and people on the internet started to attack the Murphy’s, saying things like ‘They’re a rich family who couldn’t bother to pay for their son to get help?’ and ‘I’m not saying to do anything illegal but their house is the pale yellow house at the end of the cul de sac with a red door.’” Your hand flew to your mouth in shock. “They even leaked Zoe’s phone number and their house phone! Everything was just spiraling out of control and I didn’t know what to do. I panicked and the only thing I could think of to do was just.. them the truth. So I did and I told them everything. I wrote the letter, Connor took it from me, we weren’t really friends, and it was all a lie. I haven’t spoken to the Murphy’s since.” He fiddled with his hands in his lap and sighed. “And.. I’m scared. Scared that one day I’ll go to school and everyone will hate me or that the Murphy’s will ruin my life.. Not that I don’t deserve it, after what I did? I deserve worse.”

“Evan.. No one deserves that, especially not you. What you did wasn’t exactly the right thing to do but you had the best intentions.” He nodded silently, “What did you want to ask me earlier anyways?”

You turned, facing down at the wheel in front of you. “I wanted to ask you if you knew where he was buried.”, a tear slipped from your eye as you sighed, smiling sadly, “I didn’t exactly get to say goodbye..” “I could go with you if you’d like. To show you the way?”

“Thank you, Evan.”

___

During the ride to the cemetery, You and Evan talked, trying to lighten the mood, and quickly became best friends. The two of you didn't have so much in common but you were both very comfortable and supportive of each other. You were like the siblings neither of you had.

The two of you stepped out of the truck, and begun walking to Connor’s grave. “Oh! Hold on..” You turn back, grabbing a beautiful bouquet of red roses and pink tulips, with a small white card that said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you enough when you needed it, Connor. I will never forget you, mon amour. I love you, always.” Connor didn’t have a specific favorite flower but he did appreciate their meanings. Roses represent love, and tulips represent a declaration of love. You hoped that even though he was gone he would still appreciate the thought you put into it.

The two of you walked up to his grave. It was at this moment when it hit you that he was really gone forever. You dropped to your knees, carefully placing down the flowers. Tears streaming as you silently sobbed, Evan’s hand on your left shoulder and the ghost of Connor’s hand on your right.

“I’m sorry, Connor. I love you more than you’ll ever know..”

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, before agreeing to leave in case the Murphy’s decided to visit. Neither of you really wanted to run into them and have to explain who you were and why you were there. “Do you want to come over to my house? You look emotionally exhausted.” You laughed and nodded, starting up the car.

___

“Why didn’t you come to town sooner?” You sighed, “I just.. I didn’t want to believe that he was really gone, you know? And coming here, seeing his grave, and his grieving family just confirmed what I prayed wasn’t true.” You sipped on the hot chocolate in your hands, staring out of the window at the pouring rain and cloudy night sky. “Have you met them yet?” Evan mumbled, typing on his laptop on the couch beside you. He pulled up the Connor Project and read about all the many different things Alana was doing. “No.. But I feel like I should? Like I know things about Connor that would give them closure but I can’t bring myself to go over and talk to them.”

“If only there was a way for you to show them what Connor was really like so you wouldn’t have to talk to them...” It was silent for a moment, “Actually... Connor and I used to write each other handwritten letters and take a lot of pictures together..” “Well what are the odds..” he giggled, “Maybe you could give those to them? The ones that aren’t super personal?” You sat together deeply in thought.

“But I can’t exactly bring myself to just give them away... Maybe I could copy them and white out all the personal stuff? Like the things between me and Connor only, and my face and name?” Evan nodded, agreeing that that would be the best option. You’d create a box filled with things Connor wrote and pictures of when he was truly happy, then leave it on the Murphy’s doorstep. It was a safe, no-contact interaction.

___

The next night, you went over to Evan’s house with the box labeled “The Real Connor Murphy. (i’m so sorry for your loss.. i thought maybe you would like to have these to know who he really was.)” Evan gave you directions to the Murphy household. Eventually, you parked in front of the pale yellow house, all three cars were in the driveway. “You better be quick if you don’t want anyone to see you.. Just.. keep the car running, drop off the box, ring the doorbell, and book it back here and drive off. Don’t turn back.” “Okay super spy.” You laughed nervously.

You walked up to the door, placing the box neatly on the ground with a single rose and tulip tapped on the top, rang the doorbell, and ran off. You jumped into the car and drove off just as Evan, who was previously hiding away from the car window, saw the red front door begin to open.

___

“Larry!” Cynthia Murphy exclaimed, picking up the box from the front porch to the dinner table, placing it beside the small card they had found on a mysterious bouquet of flowers they found the day before against Connor’s gravestone. “What is that?” He asked, looking at it with disinterest. “I found it on the porch, it says ‘The Real Connor Murphy. I’m so sorry for your loss.. I thought maybe you would like to have these to know who he really was.’ It’s in the same handwriting as the note we found on that bouquet of flowers. It even has the same two flowers! It has to be the same person. Someone who really loved him...” “What’s inside?” Zoe asked while reading and rereading the small card.

Cynthia opened the box to find handwritten letters from Connor and a mystery girl, photos of Connor laughing, smiling, pouting, hugging and kissing someone with a scratched out face. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. This was the real Connor, a whole different version of him that the three were completely unaware of. Seeing him like this was just so unfamiliar to them, they couldn’t believe their eyes for a moment. Zoe picked up a letter, reading it aloud,

“Dear Y/N

Things haven’t been going so well lately, my parents are always fighting, my mom pretends like there’s nothing wrong, my dad doesn’t pay attention to anyone but himself anymore, and Zoe hates me.

Not that I blame her, I hate myself too. But I don’t hate myself when I’m around you. I’m so glad to have you around. You make life just a little easier every day.

It’s harder when you’re not around, I get angry easier when I get bullied at school or when Zoe says something awful about me. I just feel like I’m an airplane about to crash, but with you around I feel like I’m flying. Smooth sailing. Floating even. You are the most perfect girl I’ve ever met.

Thank you. I love you.

Sincerely, Con”

“He.. he had a girlfriend..?” She said, in shock. The three began to shuffle through the letters, photos, and little post-it notes, putting them in piles. “These are all copied..” “Maybe whoever left them didn’t want to give the originals away..?” “Maybe because she still cares about and loves him and didn’t want to give these away. They seem so.. personal.” Cynthia picked up a post-it note,

“Tu es belle Y/N, je t'adore.”

“What does that even mean?” Zoe pulled out her phone going straight to google translate, “It’s says ‘you are beautiful, i adore you.’.. I didn’t know Connor knew french.” “He never took a class for it. Maybe he learned it on his own?” Larry picked up a photo this time, Connor was standing in front of the apple orchard’s rotting old sign in the middle of the field, fake pouting and wearing a thin little flower crown you had made him. “I didn’t know Connor had any feelings other than anger.” Cynthia hit his arm. “Wait,” Zoe said, grabbing the attention of her bickering parents, “This letter has a picture and a post-it note attached to it.”

“Dear Con,

Thank you for the painting, it’s absolutely beautiful. You are so so talented. The way you put so much thought into every detail is truly admirable. You make everything you paint so exciting and captivating, even if the thing you’re painting isn’t very exciting at all. You see the beauty in the things that most people never give a second glance.

It kind of reminds me of the way I look at you.

To most people that don’t know you, you are a “freak” or “school shooter chic”. But, when I look at you, you are none of those things. You are beautiful, you are captivating, you are perfectly imperfect. You are worth it. Don’t give up on me darlin’.

I love you.

Sincerely, Y/N/N”

Attached to the letter was a photo of the painting mentioned. It was a painting of your beaten old navy blue truck parked beside a chain link fence that blocked it off from the open field. In the background, the sun was setting in a perfect blend of yellows, oranges, and reds. It was so detailed that if you weren’t already aware that it was a painting, you would’ve probably thought it was a photo taken from a fancy camera. “It really is beautiful..” Cynthia trailed off, wiping a stray tear that fell from her eye, “He was so talented. I didn’t even know he liked to paint! I mean I knew he took an art class but because he skipped school so much, I never even thought he went..”

“I guess we really didn’t know Connor at all..” Zoe begun to get angry, “What kind of family does that?! I mean we lived with him, I grew up with him, you two raised him, and we still didn’t even know who he was?! This.. this stranger even knew more about him than we did! Do you realize how sad this is? We have to learn about our dead family member from a complete stranger because when he was alive, we were too busy pretending like he was just acting out for attention instead of actually needing help! He needed help and we didn’t give it to him! It’s not like we couldn’t afford to take him to therapy! We just pretended like he was a monster and if we ignored him, he would stop..” She took a deep breath, “Maybe we were the monsters and his anger and tantrums were his cries for help...” “Zoe..” Cynthia reached for her arm but she pulled away, running up to her room while choking back tears. “..She’s right.”

The two were quiet for a long period of time, reading and rereading every letter and every note, memorizing every photo.

Cynthia held up a photo of Connor and a girl, whose face was completely scratched out, “Who are you..”

___

The next day was a particularly warm day so you and Evan drove over to A La Mode as a victory ice cream run of sorts. You really believed in treating yourself after small, seemingly insignificant, victories such as dropping off a box of precious letters to a grieving family. They needed closure, and you were willing to give it them. Evan, despite talking about A La Mode with the Murphy’s before, had never actually been. You two talked and ate your ice cream sitting in the back of your truck, looking out at the orchard across the street. The orchard was renamed the “Connor Murphy Memorial Orchard”, which made your heart a little heavy. Another reminder that he was really gone.

In the distance, on the other side of the fence sat the Murphy’s who were packing up from their weekly picnic. As they got up to walk out of the orchard, Zoe looked across the street. “Wait a minute..” Her parents stopped walking. “What is it Zoe?” Larry asked. She pointed at the car parked across the street, “Isn’t that the car that Connor painted his girlfriend in that letter? And Evan?” They looked across the street to find the same navy blue truck and a familiar face.

Evan paled, “The Murphy’s are looking at us!” he whisper-shouted. You began to turn around, but Evan stopped you. “No don’t look!” Your head whipped back to him as your face paled, “They recognized my car..” “How could they? It was night time when you dropped off the box and the door barely begun to open as you drove away..”

You smiled sheepishly, “I may or may not have given them a picture of a painting Connor made me of my truck parked beside that exact fence...” Evan facepalmed and gave you a deadpanned look. “Well they’re starting to walk across the street now.”

You shot up, “Let’s go.” “I mean would it be so bad to meet his parents?” Evan asked as the two of you scrambled into the front seats. “I’m just.. I’m not ready to have that conversation just yet.” You reversed out of the parking spot and drove back onto the road.

“Wait!” The Murphy’s shouted to the car as it begun to drive off. “There was a girl driving. Maybe that was her?” Cynthia asked, hopefulness clear in her voice. “She was with Evan, do you think the box of letters were fake?” Larry, always the optimist. “They couldn’t be, they were handwritten in Connor’s handwriting. Even the french notes.”

Zoe thought for a moment, “Well if we’re going to find her, we should probably start with Evan’s place first.” “Who said we were going to look for her?” Larry asked, “I’m not wasting my time on a wild goose chase. She’s already shown us enough about Connor.”

Cynthia turned to her husband, “How could you say that? She could be the one thing to bring us closer to our son. Our son who took his own life because he felt that that was the only path left for him. And you don’t want to try to find her? Find closure? Honestly Larry, what is wrong with you lately!” “I’m sorry. We’ll find her.”

___

The Murphy’s found themselves at the Hansen household. They knew you were there. After all, your truck was parked in the driveway. Inside were you, Heidi, and Evan. You had just met Heidi, but she loved you. She was thrilled to find that Evan had made a friend like you. You hung out with Evan even after learning he lied about being friends with your recently deceased boyfriend, and helped him when he started to rant and breathe heavy about it. You were so kind-hearted, forgiving, and calm by nature, that he was finally comfortable around someone. You were quickly best friends.

A knock at the door startled the three of you. “Are you guys expecting anyone?”, Heidi stood up to get the door as you and Evan turned to each other. He placed a hand on your shoulder to comfort you. “I suppose now’s a good time as ever, even though I really only had 24 hours to prepare myself..” You muttered, the two of you walking towards the front door.

The Murphy’s stopped and stared at you. “Are you.. Were you Connor’s girlfriend?” Cynthia asked. You nodded slightly, rubbing your arm as a nervous habit. “I’m Cynthia, this is Larry and Zoe.. We’re Connor’s family.” “I know.”

Heidi invited them in, everyone heading to the living room. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.. We just wanted to thank you for all the letters and photos of Connor. It feels like we’re finally getting to know who he really was on the inside.” You looked up from your lap, “No offense ma’am, but shouldn’t you have gotten to know your own son when he was still around?”

Zoe laughed, awkward and uncomfortable. “I really don’t think that’s funny.. especially considering you didn’t bother to get to know him either.” You said getting defensive, sticking up for Connor. Even if he was gone, you would never stop fighting for him. You did truly love him after all. “And before you say ‘Connor wasn’t easy to talk to. He would always yell and storm off.’, just think about the fact that having a relationship with someone is a two way street. You can’t expect someone to make an effort if you don’t try to do the same.”

The three looked at her in shock. Heidi and Evan smiling sheepishly in the background. “I..”, Larry started, but trailed off, not being able to come up with a proper response. Cynthia and Zoe looked deep in thought, unable to do the same.

It was quiet for a long amount of time.

“You’re right. You’re right and I wish it wasn’t true, but it is. And the only thing we could do now is learn from our mistakes. We don’t exactly know how we’re going to do that but we’re willing to try. And we’re hoping that you could help us? Help us figure out what to do and help us learn about who Connor was?” Zoe finally spoke up, her parents nodding along in agreement.

You were trying to heal from everything that happened and them putting all their hope on you wasn’t really helping. But maybe grieving together would allow everyone to heal and remember him in a more positive way? At least you hoped.

There’s a lot of hope pinned on others here.

“I suppose helping you all would let us heal.. together?” You said, slightly questioning your own words, turning toward Evan. He shrugged, giving you a thumbs-up. “But I don’t feel comfortable talking about Connor unless Evan is around.” You paused, “It’d be nice to have a familiar face around and we’re practically best friends now.. so..” “Yes of course.” The three stood up, walking to the front door, “We’ll come back here at 11AM tomorrow and drive to the orchard for a picnic if that’s alright with the two of you?” You and Evan nodded simultaneously. “Are you allergic to anything dear?”

With the shake of your head and a quick goodbye from Evan and Heidi, the Murphy’s were off.

“Am I doing the right thing here? Connor didn’t even want his family to known I existed! And now we’re going on a picnic with them? Where I have to talk about him?” You sat down, head in your hands as a headache begun to grow. Heidi placed her hand on your shoulder gently, “It’s going to be tough right now, and it’s going to be emotionally draining, I’m sure. But, if you really think that they deserve to know who he really was, that how they perceive him is wrong, then I think you are doing the right thing. You’re helping them, you’re helping yourself, and you’re helping Connor. You did say that he wanted to change the way people saw him. And you’d be doing that for him, even if he’s not physically around to see it happen.”

“Thank you, Heidi.”

___

“It’s really nice of you to agree to meet us here, Y/N. And Evan, it’s nice to have you here too.” Cynthia smiled, putting down a blanket for the picnic. Everyone sat down in an awkward silence.

“So... is.. is there anything you wanted to know that wasn’t already in the letters?” You asked, picking at the blades of grass beside you. Evan slapped your hand away from the grass, silently scolding you in true forest ranger fashion for messing with nature. The Murphy’s turned to each other, silently debating what to say and who would say it. No surprise to you and Evan that the one to speak up was Cynthia. The past couple of hours really showed that she was the only one who seemed to care, at least a little bit, about Connor when he was around, though Zoe and Larry were trying their best now.

“Why didn’t Connor bring you around to meet the family? It really seemed like you brought so much light to his life. I mean, you brought out parts of him that we didn’t even know existed!” “We thought he was a monster...” Zoe muttered sadly.

Your heart ached for this family, they really knew nothing about him.. “Connor didn’t bring me around because he was afraid you’d all ‘scare me off’,” you laughed slightly, “And Connor may have been a monster to you, but the real Connor was never a monster, to me or to anyone in my small town. In the next town over, no one knew who Connor was or what he’d done in the past. It was like a fresh start. Which I knew he desperately needed. I mean, with all the people bullying him, hurting him physically or emotionally or both, and spreading fake rumors about him since he was in the second grade? He was angry and hurting and he didn’t know how to deal with it, so he would lash out. But wouldn’t you react the same way? Build up walls so people wouldn’t hurt you? Isolate yourself so people couldn’t get close enough to?”

It went silent again, the only sound was the wind blowing in the summer breeze and the trees rustling in the background.

“She’s right.”

Everyone looked up, faces showing some form of shock. Larry continued, “All that stuff was going on in school and we made it worse for him at home. He asked us for help and we always assumed he was doing for attention. No matter how hard we tried to be a perfect family, we never were and we probably never will be.”

Zoe wiped away a stray tear. “Even though you couldn’t save your kid, maybe there’s a way you could save someone else’s?” He turned to you with a questioning glance. “I mean you have to admit, you’re a pretty wealthy family, maybe you can spend some time donating to suicide prevention hotlines and foundations that were created specifically to help those who are suffering from depression and suicidal thoughts like Connor was? I know for a fact that Connor hated the way that he felt, and would never want anyone to go through what he’d been going through, no matter how much of an asshole they were.”

Cynthia reached over to you, placing a hand on your knee, smiling as tears fell freely from her face, from all of their faces. “That’s a brilliant idea, Y/N.”

___

The picnic went on as you told them stories of your’s and Connor’s adventures together. Jumping over the fence to lay around in the yellow fields of the old orchard, helping your mom arrange flowers in her flower shop (he would always make sure his bouquets were well thought out in their meaning), buying junk food and snacks when having movie marathons on a Saturday night, sketching and painting moments together so you two would never forget them.

With each little story, his family knew more about him and you felt as close to him as you had been before that heart-wrenching summer day. 

You fell behind from the group as you all walked out of the orchard. Turning back and taking one last look at the entrance, the fields, and the growing trees of the Connor Murphy Memorial Orchard, you notice a figure dressed in black standing with his back against the fence. He gave you a smile, a genuine yet sad smile, mouthing the words “thank you” and “i love you”, before disappearing in the wind.

#connor murphy #connor murphy x reader #deh #dear evan hansen #mike faist #broadway #dear evan hansen x reader

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

A Little Pick-Me-Up (Connor x Reader)

Summary: Connor decides to come to over to your apartment to check up on you after a mission gone wrong but comes to find out that you weren't expecting the RK800 to show up so late at night. Awkward feelings ensue for both. 

A/N: Connor is best boi and I love him so much. Also, this is mainly in his perspective as well as in the third person.

Also found on A03

Words:  2,911

-

"I don't think she's doing too well, son."

Connor's eyes flitted up to the older male opposite him by his desk, a dour expression present on his face. 

"Who do you mean, Lieutenant?" Connor had placed his concern. He didn't need to really grasp exactly who Hank was talking about, getting the gist that it had to do with someone that they both knew. And Connor was quick to put two and two together. "I looked over Detective L/N's vitals and conditions and they're minor. Is there something wrong?"

"Yeah, that's the thing, I don't fucking think she is, Connor. She barely even said a word in the car, let alone we got back." Hank stated, his eyes flickering to behind Connor's head. "And besides, she didn't even say anything when she left."

Connor's head turned back towards the entrance of the station where he was able to scan quickly that indeed, you had left without a goodbye. How he hadn't been able to sense you leaving left him rather baffled and upset that you hadn't come over to them. 

The two of you always said goodbye before you left, your warm smile and eyes looking to him when you waved farewell, your eyes always seemed to keep him rigid in his spot, unable to let him function. "She did seem upset earlier. Could it of been to do with the deviant?"

"That was what I was assuming." Hank sighed heavily, his face read easily to Connor that he was more than just tired with the situation and the leads that came back to nothing. 

"Sometimes, human emotions are harder to understand. It's our blessing and fucking curse if you ask me." He paused briefly, looking over his android partner. "Do you mind going to check on her, Connor? I'm sure you would brighten her world with how she's feeling." 

"What about you, Lieutenant? I'm supposed to finish reading the reports." He was uncertain, or apart of his programming told him that, should he go do this? Connor was certain that you didn't really want to see anyone right now, but the possibility of cheering you up was high. 

76% chance of success. "Oh it's fine, I can get Wilson to get a look at it, and besides... you did enough already today." Hank huffed to himself, muttering, "God, why must I sound so soppy?"

"If that is okay with you? I will go to detective L/N's place to see her right away," Connor confirmed, standing already from his desk. "Woah, wait, you sure you don't need her address or something? I don't think walking around Detroit is a good idea." Suggested Hank. 

"Don't worry, Lieutenant. That's why I already looked through detective L/N's profile when we first met and found her details, just in case." Connor's simple words were enough to make Hank look at him in disbelief, shaking his head.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Connor, do you know how creepy if you ask me -- look, I don't even want to know where you found it-- oh whatever... fricking young people and their weird love, I guess."

Connor didn't exactly understand the meaning of what his partner had muttered, his LED spinning momentarily yellow before neutralising to a light blue. It didn't matter now when the RK800 had brought up your address into his vision, slowly retreating from Hank to take his leave. 

"Have a good night, Hank."

"Yeah, yeah, just tell Y/N I hope she's doing okay." Hank gave a brief wave as Connor left the building, entering the cold night with no distress against the sudden drop in temperature. The blue objective came over, and he scanned it into his peripheral:

Objective: Get to Y/N's.

-

Your apartment complex seemed quaint and warm. That was what Connor first thought - of course, he shouldn't have allowed himself to have such opinions or thoughts - when he entered the main entrance entryway, ascending to the fifth floor to get to your level as he walked down the long, dimly lit corridors. 

He finally came to your door, the wooden door had been beaten in with its white paint job fading and chipping. Perhaps it wasn't as nice as Connor had expected.

He gave a firm knock on the door when he stopped himself from hesitating, the three knocks were enough to bring a long pause from the inside, before shuffling came closer to the door before it was unlocked and opened, revealing yourself to him. He had only just heard the soft buzzing of a stereo play in the background of your flat, softly it lulled him into a sense of comfort that he didn't think was possible in feeling. 

"Connor," Your voice was oddly composed with a tint of surprised by his presence, your eyes darting back and forth between him and the inside of your door, "what are you doing here?"

"Lieutenant Anderson and I believed you weren't feeling too good after the mission this afternoon, so I came by to see if you were well." Connor kept it formal still regardless whether it was an out of work talk or not, but he couldn't decipher why his thirium pump regulator was pumping at an astronomical rate just from staring at you. 

He took a quick scan of your features, the tiredness in your eyes could've been excused but there was a likelihood it had been from something else; since Connor could tell that your eyes had been rather puffy and red. You gave him a gentle smile, the corners of your eyes wrinkling even when you had looked so blue.

Y/N HAD BEEN CRYING?

"I'm fine, Connor, I promise. Just... didn't sleep so good these last couple of nights." Your cheeks seemed to heat up on sight, Connor had noticed, and you standing there in your pyjamas and hair tied up when you would usually wear such formal blouses and trousers, he couldn't deny that there was much more than just agreeing you were aesthetically pleasing to look at.

You were very pretty regardless, he confirmed. 

"Detective, I may suggest that the coffee intake you have daily may be contributing to your lack of sleep," Connor informed, his brown eyes lit up, watching your facial expressions.

Your face was flushed as you rolled your eyes playfully at his words. His inquisitive gaze never faltered as he observed. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You know you sound just like Hank, he complains too if I'm slacking." You gave a soft smile, holding the doorframe taut in your fingers. 

When you finally looked up to him, there seemed to be a hesitant uncertainty hiding in your eyes, nervous, Connor knew from how your heart rate had caught up. He titled his head to get a proper look at you, curious as to what you would do or say. 

"Do you... um, would you like to come in, Connor? Of course, if you're not too busy."

The smile that the RK800 gave you was lopsided, nervous as much as you had been looking, stroking his fingers with little thought. "That would be kind of you, detective." Your face lit up when he accepted, and excitedly, you took his hand to lead him inside. 

Had your hands always been this warm? They were pleasant and comforting, silently wishing he could hold your hand forever, Connor slipped inside your cosy flat, his LED spinning a constant yellow at the feel of so many questions and unknown emotions.

ˢᵒᶠᵗʷᵃʳᵉ ᴵⁿˢᵗᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ

"Please, you don't need to be so formal around me, just Y/N." You smiled sheepishly to him, your frame still close to the doorframe as possible. 

You looked innocent, pure and cute in Connor's eyes, the need to protect you washed over him so many times when he had been protecting you from an oncoming bullet, but this feeling that swelled in his chest? It made him feel much more than just warmth.

His attention from you was disrupted with a soft growl that came from behind him, and when he had turned, he hadn't expected to see such a small creature growl towards him. You intervened quickly. 

"Clover! Stop that!" The small black and tan dog hushed with its growling towards Connor who still held a curious and awestruck expression now towards the small creature.

Y/N LIKES DOGS. 

"I'm sorry about her, she's never usually so yappy with new people." You sheepishly gained Connor's attention with a squeeze of his fingers that were still entwined. His gaze fell from your fingers to your face once more, giving you once more a timid smile. "It's okay. I like dogs." 

"So I have been told." Y/N smiled back at him, finally letting go of her grasp of his fingers, pulling away almost out of awkwardness. "Go on, have a look around if you want, I was just making dinner, I'll be in the living room shortly." 

Connor nodded, intrigued, to say the least with your place as he went to explore and learn much more about you in ways he didn't think he would. 

When you finally emerged from your small kitchen, Connor was stiffly kneeled in front of your corgi, trying to make amends by gingerly stroking the top of her head, Clover finally giving in and allowing the android to stroke her.   

"You've made a new friend, I see?" You smiled at the sight, Connor turning his head to see you walk over to sit on your couch just in front of him. 

"She's very soft." Connor softly spoke, as if careful of how he moved when he was next to this 12kg corgi. The sight alone was enough to make Y/N giggle, trying to suppress it when she didn't want to be spotted by Connor. 

Connor finally moved to stand, coming to sit stiffy beside you on the couch, so close that your bodies were touching side by side that he didn't think he would be able to take much longer having you there so close to him, he believed his stress levels would go up so high that he would simply just explode. 

You turned to him to look at him from the side on, smiling broadly to him. "Hey, wanna watch a movie?" 

Connor couldn't help but even feel his Adam's apple bob in the motion when he didn't even need to do so, gulping unnecessary when you turned on your tv to stream a movie, the movie he wasn't even paying attention to when he had been glancing back and forth to you every few seconds when the film began.

You had sensed his uncomfortable and stiff posture, smiling as you rested your head on his shoulder, almost immediately feeling him stiffen even more at the surprise touch. 

"Just relax, Connor." You murmured, trying to hide your own blush as you keep your eyes trained as much as you could on the movie.

The RK800 finally did relax, loosening his shoulders as he hesitantly put an arm around you, holding you in his embrace, his back reclining into the cushion of the couch as he finally eased to watch the film, trying his best to ignore the feelings in his heads.

ˢᵒᶠᵗʷᵃʳᵉ ᴵⁿˢᵗᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ

Halfway through the film, he could sense you had stopped paying attention, and when he had glanced to look down at you, your soft and warm eyes were already looking up at him. He could feel the thirium in his body pump faster, "Is there something wrong, Y/N?"

You blinked yourself out of your staring, looking back and forth to him and the film as you slowly quietened at the sound. "I guess I can tell you why I wasn't feeling so good earlier today."

Connor shifted his body so that he could properly face you, look at your expressions and eyes, his hands came almost instinctively to touch at your knuckles, softly and slowly touching at the skin. "You can tell me anything, Y/N."

A sad smile washed over your features, squeezing his fingers tightly, and before him, Connor believed you may begin to cry again. 

"Hank was always so quick to chastise me if I did something wrong, always. But I knew that he meant the most for my career. Back downtown, I never felt so useless in trying to bring down a deviant, even stooping so low to almost get myself killed when I got shoved off the ledge."

Connor watched intently and closely, watching you hug yourself in support. "You had helped Hank from the ledge... but why me? Why had you saved me, when you could've caught up and gotten it?" You questioned hoarsely, sullen. 

“Because you were assigned to be my partner, as well as Lieutenant Anderson. I couldn't let you fall, regardless of whether the chances of survival were high or not." Connor spoke, but still, all you could think of was one thing; being nothing more than just a statistic.

"Am I just that though, Connor? Do those at Cyberlife make you feel any empathy for your human partners? Am I just a statistic to you?" It was clear to him that through your voice you were distraught, upset. 

His makers had made him so that he was faster and more efficient, the best deviant hunter there was in Detroit, to never feel such emotions because they were for deviants... and yet, he couldn't stop himself from feeling such a way with you.

"Y/N, you're more than just a statistic. You're bright, kind and funny. You withstand Detective Reed, Lieutenant Hank and his criticisms, but most of all," he gave a nervous bated breath once more and exhaled accidentally, "you put up with having an android partner, and never once did you complain about it."

"You're more than just an android of a plastic partner, Connor, you're human, whether you admit it or not." Y/N admitted, darting her eyes away from him as if nervous how he would react. 

"I don't think it is you deviating, but it is certainly much more than just coding or programming in your system telling you what is right and wrong through probability."

"What do you think it is then, Y/N?" He involuntarily felt his body lean closer into you as if feeling for this warmth that only you had, and he needed more of it to be pumped into his body, to help him feel alive. 

You gave a timid smile, your head leaning closer into him to meet him halfway, your eyes searching his as his LED spun constant yellow in questioning. "Connor, what are you thinking right now? Do you see anything?" You asked him softly, the fan of your breath across your cheek was tender.

"No," Connor confessed, "it's like I'm... doing this without... without needing to know what to do or the options." It felt clear to him, but it confused him greatly. It seemed almost as if he was in a state of spontaneity and impulse without him needing to know what he had to do or say. 

"Good," You whispered almost sweetly, your hand came to tenderly come to straighten his jacket. "just let it do what you think is right. Just switch it off." 

Connor swallowed once more, his brown eyes glancing back and forth towards your eyes and then your lips before slowly, he leant further forward until your foreheads were touching, breaths held, waiting whether or not you would pull away or push him off.

 Instead, you slowly craned your neck upwards, capturing his lips softly, carefully and shyly.

His lips were warm and didn't feel as plastic as you had imagined, there was a softness that came from them like humans had with their flesh and skin, and it was so lifelike, so incredible that you didn't believe that this was happening.

Connor brought his fingers to touch at the side of your face, pulling you ever-so-close to him as he wrapped his other hand around your waist, deeply kissing you with as many nerves as you had been feeling.

You finally pulled away first, first to look at his dishevelled and astonished expression, his cheeks heated with a light blue tint, his LED a steady blue. You laughed timidly, and he had too, like the two of you had been blushing young school kids and weren't experienced in kissing whatsoever. 

It was short but nice, his lips feeling amazing and you had already missed the feeling of them against yours.

"I-- wow," you breathed out, the smile on your face never faltering, sincerely you looked at him. Connor smiled back just as toothily, looking down to see that Clover had snuggled her body to fit between his feet, the sight alone was adorable. 

He wrapped his arm around you once more, allowing you to rest your head against his shoulder as he rested his head against yours. "I don't want this to end." He confessed smoothly.

"Me neither." You grinned, yawning, your eyes slowly drooping. "Stay here for the night, please?" You held his hand once more, his fingers smoothing over your knuckles to give you great comfort. Connor kissed your hairline with tenderness, ignoring everything and anything as he slowly laid beside you. "Of course." 

The two of you had fallen asleep quickly, with Connor going into static mode, waiting for when he was able to spend the next day with you so lovingly.  

#detroit being human #Detroit: BH #detroit become human #detroit connor #detroit become human connor #dbh connor x reader #DBH #dbh fluff #dbh connor fluff #fluffy fic #dbh oneshot #assassin's creed syndicate oneshot #dbh connor oneshot #dbh connor #connor rk800 #dbh connor x human reader

[bionic-penis]

Since ive been dogging on it so much i will compile my thots on the new deh movie. I don't know anything about music or theatre or movies so this is coming from my perspective as just someone who enjoys things. Some other things that are relevant given the context of the movie is I grew up poor with a single mom and i suffer from depression and anxiety. Okay okay <33 bulleted bc I REFUSE to write smth well thought out this list will be SO petty maybe if the movie was enjoyable i would be nicer <33

Warning for spoilers!!

First off. They cut out almost all the songs that gave insight into how the adults thought and felt. These are SO fucking important to the story as it fleshes the adults out as more than just set pieces. "Does Anybody Have a Map?" was so important because it introduced the Heidi and Cynthia and showed how they were trying their best despite it all. Cutting this out, alongside with "Good For You" trashed any chance we had at understanding either of the mothers. The one saving grace for Heidi was the fact that they left in "So Big/So Small" but it was not enough

Speaking about "Good For You"... GIRL. LITERALLY WHY WOULD YOU CUT OUT THE ONE SONG THAT SEES EVAN HAVING TO CONFRONT HIS MISTAKES???

About Heidi... Her relationship with Evan makes me mad. It always has. He is such a dick to his mom and its not even in a believable way imo. There is NO resolution to this. Heidi just offers him advice and sings a song and thats it. They didnt even really fight!! Evan just said his stupid line about how the Murphy's treat him nicer and they part ways awkwardly. Another nitpick about this scene? It didnt have the iconic "ugliness" of the version that im used to. What I love about that version is how the actresses voice dips and sounds so shaky. I love how she doesnt sound necessarily angry, but heartbroken. She sounds devastated. And while I LOVED the actress in the movie she just didn't deliver that same emotion. It felt forced. And the whole scene felt inconclusive.

Its hard having a mom whos always working I understand and this could have been such an amazing moment to showcase that there is no guilty party in this situation. Just a mom whos trying her best and a son who just wants to connect. BUT DO THEY DO THAT? NO. THEY LIKE TO THINK THEY DID BUT THEY DIDNT. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU OH MT GOD THIS ONE PART OF THE STORY MAKES ME WANT TO EAT TWIGS IT MAKES ME SO UPSET 😭😭😭😭

Another thing is that all the songs seen so Evan centric. He sings most of them and I can only really remember two songs that he wasnt apart of

Which brings me to "Requiem"... Which I hated. And have a BIG nitpick about.

First off. Its just shot bad. Theres this moment where it goes from Zoe walking down the hall at school to Larry walking between cubicles to Cynthia walking down a grocery aisle. I felt nothing. The only good thing to come from this is when we see Larry walking down the same way just to return home to cry in Cynthias arms. This is the one moment that got me. The one moment that felt emotionally weighted.

This song could have been shot beautifully. Switching between perspectives and each Murphy's relationship with Colnnor but it doesn't. It lacks intimacy. Even when Zoe is driving her car pedal to the metal driving down an empty road it fails to connect deeply, especially when this moment is never brought up or expanded upon. Also its stupid because at the speed she was going she would have needed a LOT more time to stop than just the split second she has when the light turns red

Another thing about this car sequence?? No stakes. There are no other cars on the road. It wouldnt have even mattered if Zoe hadnt stopped in time. This is one core issue with the movie: there are no consequences for any actions the characters take. I think that id Zoe had ran the stoplight she could have gotten a ticket and opened up a moment for connection between the Murphy's

On more than one occasion we are forced to endure a montage of events that occur without context that I feel are meant to establish that at least SOMETHING happened but what this does is rush character beats AND, especially, Zoe and Evans relationship

Now I LOVE "Only Us" but one cool song does not a relationship make!!

Also the reoccuring montage of Evan falling out if the tree.... 😐

Its such a serious moment but my friend and I laughed. Yeah.... Fail moment.

The way they depict Connor is fucking disrespectful and I hate it and also its fucking awkward. The only reason i sympathised with him at all during the movie was bc he wasnt evan.

Zoe and Evans relationship have no weight

Zoes relationship with her parents have no weight

Evans relationship with Heidi has no weight

No relationship has weight

Ben Platt makes an awful teenager. I dont care how iconic his voice is as Evan. Awful decision to cast him. What was once an emotional exploration of manipulation and acceptance is now a grown man standing in the middle of the hall pissing off frosh, soph, junior, and senior alike

Also the scene with him in the locker room... What the hell... GIRL what senior has a pe class and also??? How have you lasted that long in the locker room we have been doing this for seven years get with the program

What these sequences of Evan standing around looking like That do is NOT establish his anxiety issues but rather make me more likely to shove him in a locker. Seriously. Its borderline stereotypical and makes me embarrassed to have anxiety

I have not even touched on all that upset me but that is enough talking about the bad musical movie for now. If u disagree with me no you dont amen

#rambles

[connorandersons-blog]

The Perfect Interview

Connor is offered an interview with an elusive CEO of an upcoming company. He expected many things but not for the man to be absolutely gorgeous and the company to be perfect for him. Hopefully he can keep himself in check for the interview.

Or: You’re interviewing me for a job at your company, but you’re distractingly attractive and all I can picture is us making out on your desk.

(A RK1K fic!)

--------------------------

Connor straightens his tie for the fifth time since he had gotten dressed. Which was an hour and a half ago but he still felt his outfit was a bad decision. It wasn't like he even had that much to pick from, but still. A white button-down, nice slacks, and a tie seemed a bit too plain now.

But he couldn't go back now or he'd be late for his interview. His interview with a very prestigious CEO of a major upcoming company. Connor had heard so many things about the man but never had actually seen him. No one had, it was actually a pretty big mystery.

Connor assumed he'd be an old white man like every other CEO, but he wasn't going to judge. Hell, he was being offered the job interview, no way he was turning this opportunity down. To be head of security and even a possible bodyguard for said CEO was a massive opportunity. He knew he wasn't the only one to have gotten the offer but he had to make a good first impression.

Yet his hands shook as he stared up at the tall building he had arrived at. Connor actually adored the city, he loved having so many places he could go and most within walking distance. He had passed this very building plenty of times but never thought he'd work there.

The skyscraper towered above him as great monoliths of concrete and glass. But there was something rather unique about this one. It has balconies with plants and solar panels, but on the ground held even more green. It had an abundance of flowers meant to attract bees and Connor smiled.

The CEO may be allusive but he certainly cared about the planet, his customers, and his workers. That's what made this so incredible, it was a perfect company to work for. It has gotten threats because of its strong views, hence the need for more (new and improved) security for the company as a whole but also for the CEO.

He took in a slow deep breath before walking into the building. His breath was caught at the enormous tree growing in the middle of the large room. He hasn't expected that, but the tree was definitely real and looked rather healthy too. Comfortable benches with cushions let those sit and relax around the tree. Connor noted a coffee and tea stand that many stopped by. Most also handed over an identical card, while others used cash or something else

Many people roamed around and he was pleasantly shocked at the diversity. He even saw several people with mobility aids moving around as well. He felt his heart stutter at the very visible rainbow flag that said 'Love is Love'. Damn, he really wanted to work here.

Now to meet the CEO, well the receptionist who would send him up to the CEO's secretary who would then let him see the CEO. So, two people, he was guaranteed to meet first.

He walked up to the counter with a confident and friendly smile on his face. Though, his father had said he had a 'derpy smile and should stick with a indifferent face'. "Hello, my name is Connor Anderson and I'm here for an interview." His voice didn't even shake!

The woman looks up and smiles gently at him. That's something odd about her. No, not odd, different, and inquisitive. It's almost like she can see into his soul, it kind of makes him want to turn tail and run.

"Hello, it's wonderful to meet you. You will do well, Markus is on the top floor, you're free to go up now." She nodded towards the elevators and Connor couldn't help but give her an awkward smile.

That was a bit ominous but he shrugs it off as he makes his way to the elevators. There aren't many people in there but none seem too shocked he's going to the top, instead, they seem curious. Not in the cruel way some older adults are, but simply wondering who he was. He was a new face and it seemed plenty of people knew each other as they talked softly.

The elevator ride isn't long but it still feels like an eternity before he reaches the top. The top floor doesn't even have that much in it, not that Connor can see. There is a meeting room, which Connor assumes holds the most crucial meetings. There is the room where assumes the CEO will be behind, and three others that he can see.

There is also the secretary's area which is as large as a room but without a door. He walks up, and the woman sitting there looks up. Her face is fierce and almost stern as she looks him over. If he didn't know any better it would look like he was meat and she was deciding if he was good enough to eat or not. Not in the sexual way, though, he got massive lesbian vibes off her.

Her name tag said North, that was a unique name but oddly fitting and rather pretty too.

She is stunning, frown and all. Her strawberry blonde hair drapes over her shoulder in a loose braid, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "Anderson. Connor Anderson, right?" She asks.

"Yes, that's me. I'm supposed to have an interview at 2?" He didn't lean on the counter, simply stood with his arms by his side, trying to appear open.

She nods and types something on her computer. "Alright, you can go in." She nodded to the door and Connor beamed at her.

"Thank you." She gave a small nod, watching him attentively. Damn, she could be security with the intensity of her stare. He definitely wouldn't fuck with anyone behind that door.

He knocked before entering, closing the door behind him. Oh shit. He would gladly fuck the man sitting there, though. His skin was a beautiful color, making his two-colored eyes stand out even more. He wore a wine red, slim-fit, three-piece suit. He had a black button-down making him look even sharper. He sat there in the aristocratic cutting lines of a great tailor, showing off the best parts of him.

The man had shoulders for days and when he stood up with a smile Connor was ready to melt. Or even drop to his knees. He was most definitely not a white old man.

Hot CEO who cared about people? Yeah, Connor was swooning. He also had a small scar over one of his eyes that had Connor transfixed. "H-hi, my name is Connor. I'm here for an interview." God, he was gay. So very, very gay. He was actually bi, but right now he only had eyes for the man in front of him.

"Markus Manfred, it's wonderful to meet you, Connor." He offered a hand that Connor readily took. It was so warm and a bit thicker than Connor's own. He didn't want to let go, but holding on too long could be a red flag. "Please sit."

Connor nodded and sat down, feeling spectacularly undressed. Though, he'd love for Markus to undress him even more. "Thank you for having me. I must say, I was a bit surprised at the offer and the fact my interview would be with you personally."

He expected a manager or someone for HR at least. Not that he wasn't absolutely thrilled at this, he'd gladly meet Markus again and again.

Markus's laugh was what he assumed angels sounded like. "It is a bit different, but I think that's how most see the whole company. Since we would be working so close, I prefer to get a feel for you myself."

'Please feel me up,' Connor thought, his face flushing at the thought. He needed a cold shower and a slap to the face. "I think what you've done is admirable, it's far more than most would do."

"Far more? You believe there is more I could do?" Markus leaned forward on his desk, a small upturn to his lips. Those lips probably would feel so good on his own, or kissing down his neck.

Right, he needed to focus. Connor wasn't one to stay too quiet about his opinions even in the face of very powerful men. "Yes, you are very secretive, which I can understand. But there aren't nearly enough men of color in power that is shown. I believe you could do a lot of good as a role model for youth of color."

He himself was white, but he tried to stay up to date on the world and attempted to use his voice to amplify those who were silenced.

Markus's eyes widen at Connor's words. "I'm… I have thought of that. Thank you for your honesty, it's definitely refreshing."

Connor smiled and gave a humble nod. "Of course. If anything, I pride myself on my integrity." So being blunt played off, thank god.

Markus gave a deep hum. What would he sound like getting sucked off? Was he the loud type or was he silent? This was so inappropriate, but Connor couldn't seem to stop. "I can see that. Now, I've read over your resume, your qualifications are… impressive. May I ask why you quit your last job?"

And there it was. Luckily he doubted this would actually be too much of a problem. "My boss was manipulative and was known for sexually harassing female workers. I confronted him about it and he denied it, of course. The women are currently in the process of filing reports with the police." He was still in contact with multiple of them. Echo and Ripple were sweet girls and didn't deserve what happened to them.

Markus frowns and leans back into his chair. "I see. I can promise that will not happen here. If it does it will be handled and sent to the police as well. We have a zero-tolerance policy." He smoothed his hands over the desk and Connor followed his hands. They'd feel so excellent holding Connor, maybe even have Connor sit on the desk.

Still, they went through the normal interview questions. Before each question Connor paused, head tilted to one side just a smidge, and then he delivered an articulate answer. He honestly thought it was one of the best interviews he's been in. Other than the whole fantasizing thing. It was almost natural, their back and forth.

Connor ended up learning a lot about Markus, including that he didn't like being called Mr. Manfred, and he really wanted to get a pet at some point. Connor talked about himself, saying how he had a dog he snagged from his father every other week. It was almost like a date, and a really good one too.

Still, the urge to lean across the desk and kiss the man senseless was powerful. So strong he couldn't stop biting and licking his lips. He knew he was being obvious, but Markus hadn't called him out on it.

There were pictures on his desk too. A few caught his eye. The first was a picture of Markus in plain clothes with North and two other people. They were all grinning widely and leaning into each other.

Another was of Markus and one of the men in the pictures, he was pale with blonde hair, he was leaning into Markus and placing a kiss on his cheek. Markus was laughing in the picture and someone with dark skin, Connor assumed the other man from the first picture, held up bunny ears behind both of their heads.

It was oddly adorable, seeing Markus so relaxed with his friends. Connor hoped to see that side of him too one day, even if he didn't get the job.

"I will say," Markus grinned, cocking his head to the side, "you are the best I've spoken to so far." Connor didn't think he was lying either. That bode well for the job, which could lead to a friendship then maybe even more. "It has been absolutely wonderful meeting you," he handed over his card, "I'll give you a call when we've made a decision."

Connor took it as he stood, looking it over. It was a simple card, it wasn't one you'd give out to everyone. If Connor's instincts were right, then the number printed on it would be Markus' personal cell. "Then why are you giving me your number?"

"In case you want to call me." Markus tipped his head, his eyes seemingly sparkling.

"Oh." Connor bit his lip, flushing a deep red. Perhaps Markus was interested too, in more than Connor getting the job. It would be far from professional, but Connor knew how to keep the two separate. Hopefully, Markus did too. "Ok, thank you."

Markus offered his hand again and this time they both lingered, staring at each other. Connor broke away first, chuckling. "I, yeah, ok. I guess I'll hear from you or you'll hear from me." Either way, they would talk again.

He couldn't help the smile that was covered his face as he left the office. He glanced at North who raised an eyebrow at him again before snorting. "Oh thank god, he needs to get laid," North muttered but Connor still heard. He hid his smile before walking back to the elevator. Best interview ever.

#dbh rk1k #rk1k fic #rk1k dbh #rk1k #dbh rk1000 #rk1000 fic #rk1000 #RK200 #markus rk200 #dbh rk200 #rk200 x rk800 #rk800 x rk200 #connor rk800 #rk800 #RK800 Connor #detroit become human rk800 #rk800connor #dbh markus #detroit markus #markus x connor #connor x markus #markus #markus manfred #detroit become human markus #Connor Anderson #connor army #Connor #dbh fanfic #dbh fandom #dbh fic

[spastuetheobsessedphylosopher]

Hear me out

We all know about the fake-dating trope, right? But listen

Have this DEH AU where Connor lives through his overdose, yeah? And his family is convinced he and Evan are friends and 'fuck now i have to fake being friends with the cute idiot weirdo'

FAKE-FRIENDSHIP AU

Connor is Not Happy, because this asshole was making fun of him with the stupid letter just a few days ago, but listen. His family isn’t leaving him alone with the matter and hey,

hey,

he’s tired of his family looming over him and ‘caring’ about him. And the kid is lonely af, right? It won’t hurt him to hang out with Connor, specially since he has that stupid crush on his sister and he’s desperate enough to spend some time with Connor in order to see her.

(And okay, listen, Connor isn’t a bad person, okay? Yeah he’s done bad shit, made bad choices. He knows, don’t rub it in his face, but it’s not like the rest of his family are little lambs. They’re all to blame, right? Right!?)

(And yeah, Connor wants to do better, okay? He’s scared he can’t. But this Evan kid, surely he must know about being better, right? I mean look at him, he couldn’t kill a fly)

And so Connor hangs out with Evan and brings him home and they lie through their teeth about their supposed amazing relationship, and really, what is it with this guy and trees?

And he tells Miguel about him cause of course he does. I mean, have you seen that dweeb? He’s insufferable and Connor needs someone to rant to about the kid’s obsessions and quirks and cute face

But then Evan approaches him one day after school while Connor is having a not so awesome time. And Connor doesn’t answer so Evan just starts rambling about trees and his summer job and how he fell off the tree but he didn’t actually fall and-

Holy shit. This kid is not at all what Connor thought he was.

So they talk. About their families. About their therapist sessions. About how people just don’t understand.

And Evan tells him about Jared and Connor talks about Miguel. Evan calls Connor lucky for having a real friend like Miguel and Connor says Evan has him and okay,

Connor didn’t know blushing this hard was possible what the hell.

So they hang out. For real, this time. And Evan shows him the tallest trees and Connor takes him to Á La Mode and they’re happy.

Okay. That’s new.

And Evan’s been in denial all the time, repeating to himself ‘it’s because of Zoe’ but the thing is he hasn’t though of Zoe for weeks, and then he actually gets mad at her when she tells Connor his and Evan’s friendship is a lie, she knows, so stop lying to her!

So yeah, okay, maybe he doesn’t do it for Zoe. Maybe Evan actually has fun when they go out for ice cream, and Connor has some chocolate on his nose, and that’s adorable-

Oh. Oh.

Evan’s gay.

Evan’s very very gay.

And what the hell is he supposed to do with that?

So Evan tells Jared, who laughs in his face and repeats ‘I told you so’ on and on till Evan hangs up.

But Jared had said Connor ‘has the hots for you too, he looks at you like you’re a piece of meat’ and, hey, Jared is blunt, but he’s not a liar, right?

(Evan wonders why his heart chose to pin over the Murphy’s)

So Evan decides he’ll tell Connor.

And they start dating, right?

Wrong, cause this is Evan we’re talking.

And Connor only tried to kill himself a month ago, he’s still in process of recovery and Evan can’t just dump that on him!

So Evan can’t tell him. Of course he can’t. He can’t afford to scare one of his only two friends away.

So he’ll keep it to himself. For Connor.

And so of course this is a slow burn.

Both gays are idiots and Connor is still pinning over Miguel, right? Of course he is. This is Miguel. He wants him. No one else. Nope, no siree.

But Miguel opens his eyes and now Connor doesn't know what to do cause Evan is clearly straight af and in love with his sister right? I mean that's why he’s so weird about going to Connor's house right? And Oh My God Evan is suddenly awkward around him he totally knows and hates him right?

So Connor can’t tell him. Of course he can’t. He can’t afford to scare one of his only two friends away.

So he’ll keep it in his pants. For Evan.

#dear evan hansen #evan hansen #connor murphy #zoe murphy #treebros #evan x connor #miguel #he's a puffball #we stan miguel #connor lives #pinning #these gays...