#dear Evan hansen fanfiction

[theromcommotel]

CONNOR MURPHY !!

“MAKE ME HAPPY !!”

prompt: y/n is over for dinner meeting the murphy’s, y/n happened to say something that made connor smile, why would his family be so shocked about that?

requested: imaginationlast

warnings: out of character connor/none(?)

connor murphy x gender neutral!reader

“so y/n, what exactly do you plan to do after you and connor graduate?” larry murphy asked from across the dinner table.

“well, sir, quite frankly i’m not sure yet.” you said, giving a small awkward laugh at the end, quite embarrassed.

“it’s okay, y/n, sweetie, connor doesn’t know what he wants to do yet either.” cynthia smiled, it’s like she knows my every move, you thought. lary gave a small shake of his head, showing slight disappointment, as it was obvious zoe knew what she wanted to do.

“well, connor will figure it out, he’s just cool like that. he can do almost anything just, on the fly like that.” you said, giving the two parents a small smile.

connor looks up from his food, for the first time since you and connor had left his bedroom, more specifically he looks up at you. “thank you, n/n.” he says, smiling at you, but going back to his food.

“what?” zoe gasped, with a confused look on her face.

“exactly what i’m thinking, connor are you high-?” lary began, but was interrupted by their guest.

“i’m sorry what, i’m a little confused, heh.” you said giving a small, bashful, smile.

“oh my god, i knew it! i knew it would come!” cynthia said, hugging you from across the table.

“what would come?” you asked, even more confused.

“the day connor would smile.” zoe said bluntly.

you have a confused look, unsure of what they meant.

“as you may know, connor struggles, a lot. we don’t even remember the last time connor ever smiled. he’s been so alone for so many years, we’re just…glad he has you.” cynthia smiled.

you were so confused, what do they mean connor doesn’t smile? he always smiles around you? i mean, you knew he struggled but you never knew this badly? and speaking of, when was the last time his family saw him smile? you began to wonder if-

“i don’t get why it’s a big deal.” connor said, rolling his eyes at his mother, who was just previously rambling and on the brink of tears.

“y/n makes me happy, they always have, and always will.” connor shrugged, getting up to put his plate away. his family - and you, more flabbergasted then before.

heyooo!! hope y’all enjoyed this one!! sorry it was so short lol, i couldn’t think of all that much for this.

if there’s anything offensive/inaccurate in my writings message me asap!

reblogs and likes are appreciated!!

-hermy <3

#fanfics #musicals #dear even hansen the musical #connor murphy x reader #connor murphy x y/n #connor murphy x you #connor murphy #zoe murphy #lary murphy #cynthia murphy #dear evan hansen x reader #canon x reader #x reader #x you #x y/n #deh #Fanfiction #dear Evan Hansen Fanfiction #fluff fanfic #dear Evan Hansen fluff #musical Fanfiction #requests open #gender neutral reader #sincerely me #waving through a window #you will be found #good for you #disapear #if i could tell her #anybody have a map

[introverted-tree]

DOES ANYONE REMEMBER THIS FIC?

Okay so I've been looking for a Dear Evan Hansen Treebros fic that was on Wattpad sometime around 2020-2022 and it also doubled as an Alana x Zoe fic (they were a cute side ship) and I'm pretty sure it started out with Evan waking up from a dream he had where the events of the musical happened and he like called Connor to comfort him cos they were best friends. Then the next day, Evan tells Zoe about his dream in their science (I think chemistry) class and she is visibly distract by this idea but gets over it quickly.

I remember the fic being very funny but also very sad and there were a few chapters covering a sleepover all the characters had and Evan (?) dares Jared to eat a bath bomb so Jared takes one of Heidi's bath bombs and takes a bite and says he hates it, then a little later, the kids go to a gas station (maybe 7/11) and Alana--who showed up to the sleepover late because she got a lot of her hair cut off and Zoe was like infatuated) was laughing with Connor over something stupid (might've been a 'good kush' reference) When they got home, they couldn't find where Jared went and when they walked into the kitchen, they found him sitting on top of the fridge eating a bath bomb. (I made fanart of this so I know this happened in /some/ fic at least)

It's also implied that Connor and Evan have been in love and kissed last summer (the summer Evan broke his arm I think) and I remember their romance being very well-put-together

and I also remember that Someone gave Zoe a box of 'Froot Loops' so she would dab instead of shaking hands and/or taking her diploma (She does do this which is sort of my proof that this probably was made shortly after the original musical came out--probably 2017-18)

And I'm pretty sure the fic ended with the characters all hanging out in a bathroom at a college party or smth like that.

IF ANYONE KNOWS ANYTHING AT ALL PLEASE TELL ME, I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR THIS FIC FOR ABOUT NINE MONTHS

#dear evan hansen #deh #wattpad #treebros #musicals #evan hansen #connor murphy #alana beck #zoe murphy #jared kleinman #dear evan hansen fanfiction #theatre #deh broadway

[littletealights]

i’m in college now, so i’ve been rereading the ever iconic ‘When Evan Met Connor’ by hopefulminty on ao3 (free palestine btw) and that spiralled into reading my other deh bookmarks and then actively searching out other deh fics and, anyway i’m rambling. point is. as i’m reading these fics, it is incredibly obvious that some of these deh writers have never seen, let alone smoked a joint before and-

#i just find it funny #i don’t mean it in like #a mean way #or like i’m putting those writers down #it’s honestly adorable seeing what they think weed is like #dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen the musical #deh fanfiction #dear evan hansen fanfiction #evan hansen #connor murphy #anelleoriginal

[dreaminginpastels]

d e a r  e v a n  h a n s e n  m a s t e r l i s t

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

┌────────────────────────────┐

key:

✿ = fluff

➷ = angst

⁂ = hurt/comfort

☽ = alternate universe

♡ = gender neutral reader (they/them pronouns) - default

❀ = female reader (she/her pronouns) - by request

✧ = male reader (he/him pronouns) - by request

└────────────────────────────┘

connor murphy

open your eyes ✿➷⁂❀

connor is finally comfortable to be himself in your relationship when you decide it’s time for him to meet your big family

#connor murphy x reader #connor murphy x fem!reader #connor murphy x you #connor murphy imagine #connor murphy oneshot #connor murphy #connor murphy fanfic #connor murphy fanfiction #dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen x reader #dear evan hansen x fem!reader #dear evan hansen x you #dear evan hansen imagine #dear evan hansen oneshot #dear evan hansen fanfic #dear evan hansen fanfiction #requests open #daniella writes 💫

[upside-down-theater-kid]

This Year We Make A New Start

A short oneshot of Evan's first day of freshman year that I wrote for the @sincerely-us Dear Evan Hansen on Broadway closing tribute.

Look! I'm actually posting a fic! Haven't done that since May! I'm not emotionally prepared for Dear Evan Hansen to close on Broadway on Sunday (or for when it closes on the West End and when the tour ends). A big thank you to my friends who gave me feedback (and the title)!

ao3

Scenario after scenario ran through Evan’s head, each of them more anxiety-inducing than the last, and his hands had begun to sweat.

“Oh Evan, I can’t believe that you’re already a freshman,” Heidi reached out to ruffle his hair. “It seems like yesterday that you were just starting kindergarten!” He stood up to put his bowl away.

“I should probably leave soon.” He started shaking his hands, one of his many nervous stims. “I don’t want to be late for the first day of high school, since what if I’m late to the assembly and I miss important information and then I don’t know what to do or where to go for the rest of the day? My teachers definitely won’t like it if I don’t show up to class.” The stimming stopped.

“Don’t worry,” reassured Heidi. “You won’t be late. But Evan?” He briefly made eye contact with her. “Please try to make friends this year. Or at least talk to people.”

“It’s so hard! Everyone already has their own friends.” He checked the time for the third time in a minute.

“High school is a big change from middle school, honey,” she replied. “There are lots of new kids. Who knows? Maybe one of them also has a special interest in trees.”

“I guess I can….try to talk to people.” His mother smiled.

“And there’s always Jared,” she reminded him.

“I don’t know if Jared will want to hang out with me, since we’re now in high school. What if I actually can’t make friends with anyone else?”

“This year will be different. I promise.” She hugged him. “Also, make sure to use your earplugs if you get overstimulated.”

“Thanks,” he said halfheartedly.

“I can’t wait to see what you’re going to accomplish in the next four years.”

#dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen fanfiction #evan hansen #heidi hansen #pre-canon #evan is a freshman #autistic evan hansen #i project my stims on to him #reblogging to get the word out is appreciated

[emrickzhomepalace]

“little lightning stars” - j.k

jared kleinman x reader

fem non-binary reader

plus-size reader

angsty at first but quickly goes to fluff

warnings: self-deprecation, anxiety/panic attack, also as a btw i am not a plus-size person writing this so if i write smth rude or out of line here lmk asap!

words: 302

this was all stupid. they had no reason to be crying on one of the happiest days of the year - well, for most, anyhow.

valentines day could be a happy day for couples and a sad day for singles. but here’s the thing, y/n was neither, they weren’t single but they weren’t happy, what gives right?

y/n’s boyfriend, jared, should be here with them spending the day cuddling and watching rom-coms, as they did the year before

but jared was no where to be seen, and at the worst of moments.

y/n is considered by most ‘overweight’, and although jared disagrees, they can’t help but feel sickened in their own skin.

the very moment y/n slipped into their clothes for today they immediately broke down, feeling awfully in their own body.

and not having jared there to console them, only worsened matters.

“honeyyy! i’m home!!” jared cooed, he turned to see his lover, y/n, barely able to breathe and in such a state of panic.

“hey, hey, hey.. sweat pea? what’s wrong?” jared asked, cupping his beautiful lovers face.

“i-i’m sorry!” y/n cried, hugging jared tightly.

“no, no it’s okay, it’s okay. what happened?” jared asked, still so confused

“i-i just feel so ugly in my body! i hate it! w-with how fat i am, a-and my stretch marks! i-i just..” the one sobbed into the dark haired boys chest.

he patted their hair softly, and pulled their chin upward to look at him.

“look, sweetie, i bought you some flowers and sweets for valentine’s day. we can put the flowers in a vase, and just, eat snacks and cuddle up and watch movies? let’s take your thoughts on vacation, okay?” jared explained, looking at his dearest lovers face for approval.

y/n looked up at jared, smiling. “yeah, let’s do it.”

#dear evan hansen #fanfics #jared kleinman #jared kleinman x reader #x reader #fanfiction #dear evan hansen fanfiction #musicals

[thesweetpianowritingdownmylife]

Chapter 5 is up! Evan finds out what happened :) it is not a fun time for him :)

(ch 6 might not be up tomorrow bc it might need some modifications, and tomorrow is ofmd day lol)

#dear evan hansen #deh fic #deh fanfic #dear evan hansen fanfiction #evan hansen #treebros #tree bros #connor murphy #avocado writes fanfiction

[ellsvault]

i love the idea of genderbent musicals

like PLEASE 😫 give me a female mendel weisenbachfeld

#falsettos #falsettos musical #marvin trilogy #william finn #falsettoland #mendel weisenbachfeld #musicals #theatre #broadway #off broadway #newsies #hamilton #dear evan hansen #waitress #wicked musical #genderbend #genderswap #fanfiction #ao3

[sxtvrns]

to reunite and resolve

🎶 now playing: don’t grow up too fast - grentperez

P: Connor Murphy x Fem!Reader

S: You were the one of the only people he called a friend. He wanted to call you more than that.

W: mentions of drug use, smoking, anxiety, cursing, sexual content, spoilers, short

N: Basing this off of Mike Faist’s Connor Murphy, because his version of Connor the one I envisioned while writing this. Some information is taken from the book adaptation of the musical. In the book, Connor explains that he is some form of LGBTQ+, yet it is never specified; hints of this are being used in this fic. this is super short and kinda shit LMAO

please interact if you enjoy!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When he first threw that printer in second grade, you were the first thing he saw out of the corner of his eye. Everyone… well, almost everyone, looked at him in horror, screams so loud they could be heard from down the hall, besides Jared Kleinman, who said that the whole facade was so cool.

Some kids ran, some kids took cover, but you stood there with your mouth hanging open, gaze switching between Mrs. G and Connor. And to think the only reason for this was because he didn’t get to be line leader that day.

He couldn’t tell what you thought of him after that. There wasn’t a single thought behind your face that could determine whether you thought he was cool or you thought he was insane. But he resorted to the worst— you thinking he was a crazy maniac who had a breakdown only because he didn’t get what he wanted that day.

But no, that wasn’t the case. He sat down under a tree during recess one day, and you just so happened to be lurking on the other side of it. You peeked out, looking at the book he was reading. “Is that The Little Prince?” You ask, startling him. “Yeah. Why?”

“It was a bit sad, but I liked it. Which part are you on?”

“The part where he dies.”

Awkward.

“I’ve read this book 5 times.”

“So it’s your favourite?” He shrugs. “One of them.” You sit down next to him, eyes skimming over the words on the page. “I don’t like Mrs. G very much. She always finds something wrong in my work and points it out to the class,” you start, staring at Mrs. G who’s talking to a teacher far across the playground. “I don’t think you should do it again, but I thought that was cool.”

“What was cool?”

“When you threw that printer. Was it heavy?” He shakes his head. “You’re strong! That’s even cooler!”

He shuts his book with a quiet thump. “Shouldn’t you be talking to Lily over there? Or… Jane?” You shrug. “I don’t really have a group of friends. I talk to them and we’re friendly with each other, but… they don’t like the things I like. I don’t know– it seems like on some days they don’t like me and then other days they do. Maybe I’m just scared of that.”

“You’re lucky the printer didn’t hit Mrs. G. You’re even luckier you didn’t get in big trouble. I think that you were angry and you didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” He’s surprised by how well you manage to read him. He didn’t even know how he felt himself. It was an overwhelming feeling of rage that any six year old would have when things didn’t go their way, just that he approached it in a way that no one would believe a six year old would be able to do.

“Do you wanna see the books I’m reading later? You can borrow them if you’d like.” Connor looks at you and that stupid hopeful expression on your face, reluctantly nodding. He wasn’t one to turn down a read. He’d gotten sick of the rose hunting prince anyways.

Most kids in your class would rather go for the toys and playmat while the library picked up dust. Connor watched you every time you went to the little library in your room to pick up a book, always leaning over to see what you were reading. You seemed like one of the only avid readers in your class, not dozing off or merely flipping pages for convenience during silent reading. You really took your time in absorbing what was on the pages; sometimes he witnessed you even shed a tear.

From there, the two of you became good friends. Every partner project, you two would pair up. Every gym class, you’d be on the same team. If anything involved pairs, it would always be the two of you together, to the point where people started joking that you two were dating. Of course, you always brushed it off, but Connor seemed to think otherwise.

At the time, he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly he felt about you. He felt safe, happy, content. He also felt compassionate, open, and endearing. But years later, only when he went to Hanover and was in his first relationship, dealing with a multitude of emotional troubles, was when he realized what those feelings were.

Connor’s head rested on Miguel’s chest as he exhaled a puff of smoke. “She read a lot, sometimes I went over to her place, she always stayed by my side even thought she was made fun of, we’d trade lunches–“ He’s cut off by the sound of his friend chuckling. “Wow, you must’ve really liked her.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, I don’t think I’ve heard any guy in our entire school talk about a girl… not sexually.”

“That’s because we were in elementary. I wasn’t perverted.”

“Still, you blabber about her with such purity. Like a girl you really did love, even if you only were in the seventh grade. She seems nice. If you ever find her again, you should introduce her to me.” In the words that Miguel put it in, he was finally able to understand why he got so much more nervous around you. Why he’d scold himself for doing something moronic in front of you, unless that something made you laugh; he’d let out an internal sigh of relief.

Why he tended to defend you if someone teased you. Why he’d freeze up when your arm would brush against his. Why he’d always overthink about what you thought of him, knowing that you’d never leave his side. Instead, he left yours. He could see the hurt in your eyes after he told you he was moving schools and it almost made him want to stay just for you.

But knowing his parents, they wouldn’t understand why he’d change his mind so last minute.

Sometimes he didn’t understand why you stayed by his side. He knew you were somewhat of a fragile person, but watched you desensitize to those comments over the years.

Connor feels guilty talking about an old undetermined crush with a boy he was on indefinite terms with, but Miguel didn’t seem to mind. “I guess I did like her.” He squeezes Miguel’s hand, suddenly overwhelmed with disappointment. “And now I’ll never be able to see her again.”

“Didn’t you say you went to her place for projects and stuff? Couldn’t you pay her a visit?”

“What if she moved?”

Miguel scoffs. “Highly doubt it. What comes here, stays here.”

The suggestion played on loop in Connor’s head every day, even contemplating actually paying a visit. Yet he never owned up to it, until he was expelled and moved to a new school. Again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You rest your head on the desk, ignoring the homework reminders being given to the class. You stare blankly at the teacher through your hair, another boy coming into view that you hadn’t seen before.

His hair was brown, curly, and nearly reached his shoulders. He had defining cheekbones and painted nails, dark clothes and a messenger bag. A new student. A new student that you couldn’t help but think looked familiar to you, until you heard his name.

Connor Murphy.

He sat down in front of you, putting his bag to the side and kicking it under his desk. You wanted to talk to him, but it seemed like he didn’t recognize you either. Was it really him? The Connor Murphy who you sat under trees with, reading books and arguing about your favourite characters? The Connor Murphy who barely passed 4th grade?

“Connor…” You mutter a bit too loud, his head turned to side eye you. “What?” He replies, almost aggressively, his stare dark and hardening. You couldn’t believe it was him. But really, how many other Connor Murphy’s could there be in suburban New York?

He begins to turn away until you begin speaking. “Do you still read The Little Prince?” This time, he fully turns to you, eyes wide and no longer dull. “How many times have you read it since I’ve talked to you under that tree?” You smile, and Connor swears his heart stops. Out of pure shock, not attraction.

“Y/N?” He asks, and you nod, his face lighting up with a small smile. “Holy shit…” He sighs, his reaction making you giggle.

You’ve changed. You stopped tying your hair up, you gained a pair of dark circles, and he could just feel maturity radiating from you somehow. At least, you were more mature than he was.

“Um, I don’t really have anyone to hang out with during lunch. Do you wanna catch up then?” You offer, his head tilting. “Why not now? Instead of working on that project of yours.” Your face drops. “There’s a project?” What project was he talking about? Was it– oh, it was the role model one. You finished it already.

“Lucky you don’t have to do it. If we present, we get extra credit. I’m not up for humiliation though.” He turns around fully, and your eyes are drawn to his hands, slim and a bit veiny. He adorned a bracelet and his nail polish was black. He played with his fingers almost nervously, his hands on your desk. “What have you been up to?”

“I picked up guitar. Um, I do some vocal stuff outside of school.”

“Like performances?”

You nod. “Different genres. Jazz, pop, R&B… I’m in a few groups.” He nods. “I didn’t know you could sing.”

“I never showed off when we were younger. I’ve been taking lessons for a while.”

“Maybe you could show me later. Y’know, outside of school.” He quips with a hoping smile. “Are you flirting with me, Murphy?” You ask, leaning forward slightly, his eyes moving from your chest back to your eyes. “Maybe.” You scoff, shoving away his face. “You’re a pervert now?” You laugh, but his smile slowly begins to disappear.

“Oh, I was joking, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that– I mean, no one’s perverted to their childhood best friend right?” You awkwardly laugh while he sighs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to look at you like that.”

“Like what?”

“Y/N, I was staring at your boobs.”

“Like a pervert?”

“For fuck’s sake, L/N, I am not a pervert.”

“Never said you were.”

You were provoking him. If it was another person doing the same thing, he’d have their head. Thrown something at them or given them a black eye. With you, it was all natural humour and jokes. He could brush it off without the need for bruising. The worst part was that you didn’t know you were aggravating him, with your cheeky smile and mischievous gaze.

Later that day, during lunch, you catch Connor off guard, leaning against a tree in the back of the school grounds where no one was, blowing out smoke. He tended to find solace in places where it was quiet and mostly alone. In high school, it was hard to find that kind of privacy, so you thought he’d be away and in the back where no one hung out, besides the drug dealers and porn magazine sellers.

“You smoke now?” You ask, him inhaling and letting out another puff. “I started a while ago. Keeps me sane.” He pulls it away from his mouth, contemplating. “I was gonna offer you some but, you sing now. I guess that comes in conflict.” How sweet of him to be so considerate. “Yeah. Wouldn’t wanna try it either way.”

You pause for a moment, watching him discard the joint. “How was Hanover?” You ask, a rush of memories overwhelming him all at once. “It was a fresh start. I liked it. I, um, made out with a dude? I don’t know, it was complicated.” You certainly didn’t expect that. “You had a boyfriend, then?”

“I dunno, we never specified on it. Complicated relationship.”

“How about girlfriends?” You hear him scoff. “You really think a guy that went to an all boys school would find a girlfriend?” You shrug, standing beside him. “I thought it was common for all boys and all girls schools to collaborate or host events together.”

“I don’t know if there were any collaborating events. I always skipped. Speaking of skipping, would you like to join me on a trip to Burger King instead of going to fifth and sixth?” You shouldn’t be surprised he’s skipping classes. He always joked about doing so in elementary, yet it never crossed your mind to contemplate if he was actually going to do so. “Unlike you, I actually care about my grades. You can come over if you’d like.”

“After years you still expect me to know the address?” He jokes. “I haven’t moved. I’ll text you.” You pull out your phone, opening your contacts app and letting him type in his number. He set his contact name as ‘C’, with a cigarette emoji next to it. “If you ever call me and that name pops up on my phone while I’m with my dad, he is going to kill me. Thinking I have a dealer or something.”

“Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

You text him the address, not seeing him for the rest of the school day. He frequently skipped classes, except for the classes you two had together. He came over many times, your dad eventually meeting him when he wasn’t rushing out the door for work.

Only… one particular visit caused something to happen with reasons unknown.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You open the window, lighting some scented candles you found in the closet. Connor looked at his joint, inspecting it carefully, instead tossing it somewhere in his bag rather than lighting it, laying face up on your bed with a sigh.

The first time he was in your room, the first thing he asked was:

“Why the fuck is there sheet music everywhere?”

Which surprised you at first, mostly because you didn’t think he’d know what it was in the first place. He’d always smoke, mostly out the window, and you’d drench your room in air freshener afterwards so your dad wouldn’t know.

Connor was a very touchy person, especially when he was high. Sometimes he’d rest his head on your shoulder, his breath smelling of weed. Or on your lap, where his hair sometimes got trapped between your thighs. A hand on your leg, or on your thigh. You didn’t think of it at first, because it was Connor.

Though he took touchy to an extreme one day.

“Have you kissed anyone yet? Y’know, while I haven’t seen you.” You look up at him from your paper, amused. “Why are you asking?” He shakes his head, turning over and looking at you. “Oh, no, just wondering. So is that a no?” You sigh with a silent laugh. “No, I haven’t kissed anyone, Connor.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“So you’re a virgin, then?”

“Connor, where is this coming from?”

“Do you know about the jocks constantly rambling about all the girls they have sex with?” He ignores your question with another question. “Yeah. It’s fucking annoying.” You scoff with a breathy laugh, taking a sip from your bottle. “You know they talk about you, right?”

You nearly spit out your water, saving the drops that fall from your mouth from falling onto your shorts. “Excuse me?” You say after swallowing. “Yeah. It’s all, ‘Bet 10 bucks I can bang her’ while they point at you. Or they go, ‘Jesus, wonder how much she can take’.”

“So I’m being objectified?” He nods slowly, looking up at you through his messy hair. “Unfortunately, yes. Want me to do something?”

“If it results in you getting suspended, no.”

“You sure? Those guys are dicks.”

“They’ll never believe us without any proof. And your reputation is bad enough already. I don’t want you to fall any more because of me.”

“Y/N, I’ll do anything for you.”

Those words make you pause and reflect. Was he high? No, because he tossed his joint in his bag anywhere. Even then, Connor would never say that for anyone. It seemed so out of character for him that you almost laughed.

“Are you high?”

“What?”

“I know damn well you wouldn’t do anything for anyone.”

“Y/N, I’m serious.” His gaze is stern, dark, and hard but also eager, glossy and hopeful. “I don’t know, maybe it is the weed I smoked twelve hours ago, but you’re really pretty. Sometimes I wonder how I managed to become friends with someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Someone so pretty that doesn’t give a fuck about the fact I do drugs or the shit I’m dealing with. I really like you, Y/N. Always have. You didn’t single me out, you never left my side— you’re the one person in my fucked up life that makes me feel like I belong. That I matter.” Your childhood best friend, who’s now sitting up with a hand on your thigh, just confessed his undying love to you.

And you had to admit, the more you two started to hang out and reconnect, the more you started to develop something of an attraction to him. He never smiled at anyone but you, he didn’t push you away or glare at you; it was like he had a soft spot just for you, and it made you like him even more.

“I hope you aren’t gonna fuck me over. Y’know, if you don’t like me back.” His finger traces patterns on your thigh, the way his hand unknowingly rides up making your brain go haywire. “I’m… I, uh– I’m not.” He looks at you, for some reason, disappointed. “Should’ve known you didn’t. Forget this ever happened, then.”

“No, no! I like you! I really do like you, Connor. You’re charming and handsome and…” You hear him huff out a laugh, his face closing in on yours. “I know no one else thinks of me like that but you. You’re obsessed with me.”

“Could say the same for you, Murphy.”

His head tilts, his nose touching yours. “Wanna kiss you.” He mutters. You simply nod, inviting. “Okay.” You reply. He presses his lips to yours, feeling full and complete the moment you two meet. He can sense your confusion at first, but you managed to learn how to move with him quickly. Perks of being a fast learner.

He hovers on top of you on your bed, admiring you when he pulls away. His eyes shamelessly trail down from your face, to your chest, your stomach, your legs, his face cupped in your hands and pulling him towards you to kiss him again.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, the mood instantly erotic.

His hands are all over you. The back of your head, your shoulders, your waist, your hips, your thighs; he placed them wherever he could push you closer to him. When his mouth follows his hands to descend to your neck, you let out a soft whimper, panicking when you barely catch sight of the door.

“W-Wait.” You pant, nudging Connor for him to move to the side. You scramble off your bed, closing the window and the curtain and turning off the lights, going for the doorknob. “Thought you said your dad wasn’t home.” Connor says as you lock the door. “Never know when he will be.”

When you join him on the bed, his hands at the hem of your shirt, you stop him with a touch on his wrist. “Um, I don’t…”

“Oh, shit, did I go too far? I’m sorry–“

“No, no! I want it, I really do, but… you know...” He realized how nervous you were, remembering you haven’t done anything like this before. He gives you a gentle kiss on your forehead, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You know I have. You trust me?” He asks, giving you doe eyes you’ve never seen before. You nod, emitting a chuckle from him. “Let me take care of you then.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sex was one thing. Having sex with your best friend is another.

It’s either your dad stayed at work all night or he’s in grave danger, given you haven’t heard him scream out of pure horror, then yell at you first thing in the morning. You woke up unbothered, naked, and held by your best friend. Unless this whole thing changed your relationship.

Were you even friends anymore? Was this a friends with benefits thing now? But he practically confessed to you yesterday, unless he was high. But he didn’t smoke anything, and the room doesn’t smell that bad…

One thing is for sure: Connor Murphy knows how to fuck.

Maybe it was the fact that you were a complete virgin or that you did whatever he asked you to, but you swear you could still feel how you felt last night when he was in you.

Your head rests on his arm, wrapping around you and holding you close to him. The ends of his hair touch your own head, and you blow them out of the way. You can feel him move, and he groans, meaning you woke him up. You lean into him more, feeling his fingers lightly brush your side. You feel his head turn, his hair moving from your head.

“Hi.” He says, peering down at you. You look up at him, noticing his gaze. “Hi.”

He plants a kiss on your forehead, his fingers moving to brush through your hair. “I think I passed out after.” You say, hearing him chuckle. “You did. When I came back to clean up, you were nearly snoring.”

“Oh god, I snore?”

“Loudly.”

He notices you going silent, immediately worried. “I was just joking! Well, kind of, you snore, but not loudly. Not like a dad snore.” You giggle into the side of his arm, followed by a brief moment of silence. “What are we now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think friends confess their undying love for each other and tie it off with sex.”

He pauses, hearing quiet hums come from his mouth. “Can I be your boyfriend, then?” He feels you nod against his arm while you hum in response. “Yeah.” You get out from under the covers, going to stand up until a brief pain shoots up your legs.

Memories of the night before suddenly come rushing in. “Fuck those jocks, I’m the only one who can see you like this.” He said, after making a mess of you with only his fingers.

He really fucked you good last night.

You curse under your breath, legs weak as you stare at the scattered clothes on the ground, tossing your own into the laundry basket by your door. You grab a new change, turning around and noticing Connor staring at you the whole time, an expression you can’t make out.

“I was that good? Your legs are shaking.” You roll your eyes and throw his shirt at him after putting on a pair of shorts. “Shut up. A real boyfriend would help me and not make fun of me.” He fake pouts, getting out of bed and putting on his own clothes.

You turn on the TV downstairs, the morning news playing and showing the date as Friday.

Friday.

Shit.

You’re beyond late.

“Turns out there was a gas leak so there’s no school. That works out great for us.” Connor says as if he could read your mind. You hear the garage door open, meaning your dad had just come home from work. He enters the room, seeing both of you standing by the kitchen counter.

“Shouldn’t you two be at school?” Is the first thing your dad says, eyeing both of you. “Cancelled. Gas leak.” You feel Connor’s hand rest at your hip, wanting to swat it away but knowing your dad already saw it just by the look on his face. “Did he use protection? I know you’re on those pills, but–“

“Oh my god, yes, he did, look– can we talk about this later?” Your dad shrugs and nods before heading for the stairs, hearing Connor laugh beside you. “How did he know?” You panic, placing toast on both your plates. “Maybe he saw your legs shaking from there.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

You glare at him, giving him a brief kiss before bringing both your plates to the table. He quite literally does as you say, keeping quiet the entire time he eats his breakfast.

You should do that more often.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You knew that Connor was a very mischievous person. He always has been.

He’d skip classes, casually threaten people as if it were nothing, smoke weed; he nearly flushed firecrackers down a toilet once. He didn’t go through with it because you told him not to.

He was also mischievous in terms of your relationship.

He let you leave hickeys wherever you saw fit, in places visible and invisible. You were more wary of it. He showed them off proudly; well, not really proudly, he just didn’t mind if people saw or stared at him with hanging jaws. He couldn’t be bothered to cover them— the only time he did care was when his family would point them out.

He’d sneak out and go to your place frequently; he always preferred your house over his, mostly because he felt like he had a parent he could actually tolerate (and love). If your dad were to ever barge in, he’d stare at Connor, then at you, then at Connor’s bag, and ask if he had protection before leaving and closing the door. Connor always said yes.

It was also a convenient reminder for you to lock your door anytime Connor was in your room, since most of the time nights would always end in sex.

You fumbled for your keys to unlock the front door, Connor’s lips on yours when you stumbled inside. You didn’t notice a bunch of men in the living room, including your dad, holding beer bottles and staring at you until you saw them out of the corner of your eye. “Welcome back. How was the party?” Your dad asks, as if he didn’t see the escapade between you and your boyfriend.

“It was shhh– It sucked. Yeah. It sucked. Hi.” You mutter the last part, eyes quickly dashing over everyone who’s attention is taken away from the game on the TV. “Um, we’re just gonna… yeah.” You drag Connor with you out of their sight and upstairs.

“Does he have–“

“Yes!”

You slam your door shut, locking it, seeing Connor visibly nervous. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Was the party too much?”

“A little bit. And then… your dad’s friends just staring at us. I don’t know– anxiety? This is a stupid thing to be worried about.” You sit down next to him, hugging him while rubbing his back. “Don’t worry about them, okay? They’ve probably done the same when they were younger.”

You feel him sigh into your shoulder, his voice muffled.

“Thank you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

don’t grow up too fast. don’t leave me in the past. as long as you never change who you are, i know in your heart i’m never far. 🎧

#connor murphy #connor murphy x reader #dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen musical #mike faist #fanfiction

[musicoftheheart]

okay but imagine the marauders era characters in a dear evan hansen au (cw for discussion of death/suicide)

james as evan, who is head over heels for regulus (zoe) and claims a friendship with reg's recently dead brother. regulus, who refuses to mourn his older brother sirius (connor) after his suicide because their relationship was so awful. sirius, who turned out to be misunderstood by those around him (thinking more about the film/book than the stage musical for this one iirc)

other characters could include lily (alana), maybe peter (jared), remus (miguel)

it works so well in my head. even as like, a high school au where they put it on as a school show (especially then bc it has the best friends brother for real in that context aha)

(if anyone writes/has written this, please tag me!! id love to read it <3)

#marauders fanfiction #marauders #marauders era #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #sirius black #wolfstar #writing prompt #dear evan hansen #deh

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Only Us (sabezra drabble)

requested by @supernova-skywalker

The words tumbled out of Ezra's lips faster than Sabine could get a word in edgewise. He'd finally gotten the courage to tell her how he felt about her— about them.

"...and I know I'm not the greatest guy ever, but..."

Sabine put a finger on his lips to shut him up.

"I don't need you to sell me on reasons to want you, Ezra," she smiled, "I already do."

"Really?" Ezra asked, "why?"

"I like you for you," Sabine took his hand, "and nothing else."

Ezra smiled, "that's all that I've wanted for longer than you could possibly know."

(a/n and tags under the cut)

a/n: ahahhhhhhh I hope you like this one as much as I do!!! I actually have a few different ideas with a sabezra dear evan hansen au floating around in my head, so this is a delight to write! also, you have no idea how hard it is to write ezra bridger and still get the 100 word count of a by-the-books drabble. this boy does not shut up; i had to abridge poor bridger so much 😂

taglist: @laughingphoenixleader  @accidental-spice  @kanerallels  @piraterefrigerator  @jedi-nurse  @dootchster  @lucasbridger  @redroverrider  @light-umbra @commander-tech @jedimandalorian {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

📀 Spotify Wrapped Drabble Roulette

#the ol' kazzle drabble #sabezra #star wars #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #sabine wren #fanfiction #ff #sabezra fanfiction #kazzy writes #kazzy writes fanfic #ahsoka spoilers #ezrabine #only us #dear evan hansen #otp: im counting on you

[datingdonovan]

would anybody read a DEH fic where they dated in hs/college but are now in their mid20s and have been estranged for several years post breakup and know nothing about each other anymore when Evan calls Connor out of the blue? I mean like this

“Can I— Jesus, I know how this sounds. I’m so sorry to ask this. Please know I’m so sorry, Connor.” Connor took a deep breath. Then another. Then another. “I mean, nighttime is when I feel the worst. Can we just— can I just stay on the phone? Fuck.” There was the light tap of skin on skin near the receiver, maybe Evan touching his forehead or temple, putting his hand over his eyes. “I promise I won’t be weird or pervy or something. Like, I don’t even need to hear you. I promise I’ll just do my work and study and stuff. I just want to have you on the other end.” Connor blinked several times, his teeth clenched. “Like, I just want to know you’re there, literally immediately, in case I need something. I just—” “Don’t want to be alone. Yeah. I get it.” Connor ran a hand through his hair. “That’s fine. As long as you’re quiet by the time I go to sleep."

I mean I think im cooking no matter what I just want to know if anybody's gonna eat

#dear evan hansen #deh #can't believe I might be committing to this idea #the stuff of cece #fanfiction #this is a sneak peek its not DONE YET hooligans its gonna probably be so long #Evan Hansen x Connor murphy #connor murphy #tree bros #Evan hansen

[viaviv124]

Fanfiction Commissions OPEN!!

[UPDATE REGARDING SETTING COMMISSIONS]

Hi! So I've decided i'll try selling fanfictions because why not, worth a try!

Fandoms I'll do:

Undertale 

Cult of the Lamb

Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss

Danganronpa

Heaven Officials Blessing

Captain Laserhawk

Hamilton

Super Mario

Black Butler

Dear Evan Hansen 

Be More Chill

Heathers 

Stardew Valley

Anything else i'm familiar with, just ask! 

Content I'll do:

Shipping

Angst 

Fluff

Crackfic

Hurt/Comfort

Hurt/No Comfort

Lime

Anything that isn't in my don'ts list, really. 

Content I won't do:

Proships (Pedophilia, Incest) 

Romanticised Abuse

Real People (OCs are fine, i mean primarily stuff like celebraties, youtubers etc)

Anything that makes me uncomfortable (will be discussed when necessary) 

Content that's case by case/has requirements:

Dead Dove Do Not Eat: depends if the content makes me uncomfortable or not, but generally I'm up for anything. 

Smut/NSFW: i won't post it and please do not post it either. Keep it for private use. I also won't do Non-Con, Necrophilia and other kinks and fetishes that make me uncomfortable. 

Gore: bear in mind i'm not really good at it. I'll decline if it gets too extreme for me. Please keep it out of sex.

Please remember that I always have the right to say no, regardless what the lists say.

When the commission is done I'll always ask you first before I post it. It's something I wrote for you so you also decide what's done with it. (again, except NSFW.)

Payment:

SFW: 5€ per 500 words

NSFW: 10€+ per 500 words

NSFW fics can be self determined if you want to pay the initial prize or more.

Payment will occur before I'll send you the finished fic.

Please pay via Ko-fi

I will send you drafts per paragraph once I wrote it to see if you'd like anything changed. You can change stuff up to 3 times per paragraph, afterwards there's a 1€ fee for each change. Please be specific with your prompt and with what you want. If I completely misunderstood your request please tell me and I'll rewrite without additional fees. 

Fanfiction Examples: Ao3

I will be writing whenever I can but please bear in mind that I'm very busy throughout the week. 

Feel free to ask questions whenever you have them! You can always reach me here and on my Instagram!

If you cannot afford a fanfic but want to Support me regardless, that's totally fine! Reblog and spread the word! I appreciate that just as much!

#fanfiction commissions #commissions #commissions open #the stanley parable #undertale #undertale au #super mario #super mario bros #cult of the lamb #cotl #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #danganronpa #black butler #kuroshitsuji #heavens official blessing #tgcf #tian guan ci fu #captain laserhawk #captain laserhawk a blood dragon remix #hamilton #hamilton musical #heathers #be more chill #dear evan hansen #stardew valley #somehow it deleted all tags besides the stanley parable wow-

[homosexual-newsboy]

WHICH CHAPTER DO THEY GET TOGETHER IN IN THE DESPERATE TYPE SOMEONE HELP

#the desperate type #dear evan hansen #fanfiction #ao3 #fanfic #help me im going to lose my mind i need to pick a scene to draw from it #treebros #connor #connor murphy #evan #evan hansen #Someone plz send help im dying

[happyandticklish]

Reluctant Muse

Notes: Commission for @ticklishraspberries. Thank you so, so much for being patient as I worked on this through finals and getting back into the flow of my normal life, you’re seriously amazing and I’ve loved having you as such a loyal customer, even if it is to fuel our mutual love for conguel lol. This fic is set somewhere during their college years, and I had a lot of fun getting to explore all the little details of their lives together <3 I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Connor’s growing interest in art holds unanticipated consequences for Miguel.

The fascination had started as doodles, drawn miscellaneously on the margins of his notebook or the palm of his hand when Connor was bored in class. Back then, Miguel was still a stranger to Connor, but he sat next to the other in class and watched him as the clock ticked by slower and slower by the minute. Somehow, watching him made mind-numbing lectures far easier to withstand. Miguel’s gaze would follow the swirling structures climbing up the boy’s wrists that always ended in an explosion of some sort in his palm, whether that be a skull cracking open or fire licking up his fingers. Everything with him had been violent like that back then.

By the time Miguel finally got to know him, the doodles had evolved into sketches. This period of art was more realistic. It seemed that anything and everything was a subject of focus for Connor’s imagination, and Miguel would peek over at his notebook from time to time to find gardens, trees, buildings, landscapes, and, most importantly, people, etched out in shaky pencil. People had become his favorite subject senior year. He liked to capture the emotions on their faces, the hidden pains and joys that fell through the cracks of perception for most. Miguel had tried to question him further about it, but Connor was cagey with his art. He suspected it was because he was worried that talking about it would ruin it somehow—ruin the the sanctity of the hobby.

He had drawn Miguel once too. Maybe more than once, but Connor had made sure to keep his art tucked away after Miguel had caught a glimpse of that first picture. He still remembered the flush of Connor’s ears when he had pointed it out. “Well, you’re around a lot,” Connor had mumbled at the time, not defensively at all. “It would be weird not to draw you.”

Then, time had gone on, and shared looks had become a kiss and high school had turned into several classes at a local community college in their area. Miguel was attending a nearby university (he had been offered something farther away, but he didn’t want to think about the prospect of leaving their little town), and the two would meet up after classes to grab lunch or dinner or coffee and talk. Miguel would share trivia about the latest old English or Scandinavian town he was learning about in this or that history class and Connor would shyly pipe in with a note or two about whatever new technique he had learned—always from Professor Simmons’ class.

Simmons was an old, sarcastic man with a wispy grey head of hair that always stuck out in the back as though he had just woken up on it. Miguel had met him a few times while coming to pick Connor up from classes. He was eccentric in a way that was perfect for an art teacher and strange to see in anyone over the age of sixty. Connor loved him though, and Miguel loved Connor, so he listened with rapt attention as Connor rambled on about him.

“So monochromatic is all one color, right? Which means it’s important to play around with layers and shading as you go along, which can be a bitch if you’re working with oil paints.” Connor reached into his bag, pulling out a sketchbook whose edges were torn from use. He flipped open to a page where half of a young girl around the age of six was detailed in varying shades of purple. “See, the trick is giving the illusion of depth by playing around with perspective, as there’s no natural transition between colors.”

Miguel carefully twisted the pad to face himself, squinting at the crinkled eyes in the photo. “Is that Zoe? As a little girl?”

He was worried he had said something wrong for a moment from the way Connor went silent, but when he looked up. Connor was blushing. He picked neatly at the rips in his jeans. “I found the photo back at home when I was visiting this winter. I thought it might be nice for her to have. You know. Solidify old memories and all that.”

Warmth flooded Miguel’s chest, but he bit back his grin at the last moment, settling for a fond smile instead. The relationship between the Murphy siblings was still a tenuous one, but it was getting better with time. They talked to each other now, and sometimes he could have sworn that Zoe looked genuinely excited when he would accompany Connor home. That being said, Connor didn’t like to talk about it that much, so Miguel felt it was best to let it go for now and let him have his moment.

Eventually, by each of their sophomore years, Connor’s interest had transferred to a new canvas—people.

“Do you really need to practice on me?” Miguel asked, arching a brow as Connor perused the selection of markers strewn around the carpet. Even as he protested, Miguel bunched up his sleeve to his shoulder, leaving his bicep on down exposed for whatever Connor had planned for him. In truth, he was slightly excited that Connor had chosen him as his latest work of art. He felt strangely honored by it. “I hardly think a tattoo is going to work the same as a Sharpie.”

“You have to sketch the design out first anyway,” Connor muttered distractedly. He finally stumbled across a normal black Sharpie, holding it up triumphantly as he turned back towards the other. “Besides, I’m running out of space on myself—I need fresh skin.”

Exotic colors spiraled up Connor’s arms and legs as evidence for this. The cool, September weather was still warm enough that it necessitated shorts, and Miguel forced his eyes away from the trail of languid fish swimming up Connor’s thigh. “You know, I don’t appreciate being your guinea pig.”

Connor snorted, gently taking Miguel’s arm and settling it into his lap. They both pretended not to notice the wave of goosebumps that scattered up Miguel’s arm at the touch. “Please. You love being my guinea pig.”

“Fair argument. How about some middle ground? I get to pick the design.”

“Not a chance—I want this to look good, remember?”

Miguel barely had a chance to be mock offended at the statement before the cool marker tip touched down on the skin of his shoulder. It was an odd sensation. Not bad, per se, but weird, and Miguel couldn’t help but tense up as Connor circled small little bubbles over his shoulder.

“You okay?” Connor asked, but his eyes weren’t on Miguel as he fell into that scarily intense focus he went into while working with his art. Miguel would normally be jealous at the lack of attention, but as the marker squiggled quickly down his arm he was grateful that Connor wasn’t looking at him.

“Just cold, is all.””

“Sorry. I’ll try to be careful.”

Miguel gripped the carpet as the seconds went by, forcing his features into a stoic mask that he didn’t feel. The marker didn’t just feel weird—it tickled. Not enough to push him to laugh, but enough that he was having difficulty staying still. He closed his eyes when the felt tip skated around his inner elbow, biting back a small grin.

Fuck.

“Are you almost done?” he asked, hoping he sounded far more nonchalant to Connor than he did to himself. The secrecy of this wasn’t entirely necessary, but the reality that Miguel was ticklish had not yet entered their lives and he wasn’t eager to speed up the process. He had sent Connor into far too many shrieking fits of laughter to bring up the possibility of revenge now.

Connor did look at him then and Miguel flushed. “I’m nowhere near done, I just started. Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting awfully…” Connor squinted. “Fidgety.”

“The marker’s cold,” Miguel managed, the protest half-hearted and weak even to his own ears. Connor kept looking at him for a moment longer but eventually decided that whatever Miguel was lying about wasn’t dire enough that he needed to get to the bottom of it now. The marker touched back down on his arm and Miguel inhaled sharply, clenching his fist.

When the marker darted inside his elbow after several minutes of this subdued torture, Miguel briefly considered snatching it out of Connor’s hands to snap it in half. It squiggled and spiraled and scribbled quickly around the area, forcing a stupidly huge grin to jerk its way onto Miguel’s face. His arm trembled from the effort of keeping it in place. If he could just bend it, even a little…

“Tickle?”

Miguel froze. He snapped his head up to look at Connor, but the other boy was too absorbed in his task to meet his gaze. He coughed, his throat suddenly very dry. “I’m sorry?”

“At first I wasn’t sure if I was just imagining it, so I just kept going over the same area to see if I was right. I didn’t even realize someone could be ticklish there, but you were squirming an awful lot for a cold marker.”

He spoke softly and casually as if Miguel wasn’t slowly burning his way through the floor out of embarrassment. The worst part was, he was still going over that damned spot, leaving Miguel no way to protest the fact when his arm kept twitching insistently against the marker’s path.

“Uh, yeah,” he mumbled, trying and failing to match Connor’s relaxed attitude. “A little, I guess. It’s just hard to stay still when you go lightly like that.”

“Hmm.”

The marker squiggled once more in the area and Miguel bit his lip, his eyes squinting shut as he endured the gentle sensation. Now that his theory had been proven, Connor’s lips were ticked up into a half-grin. Miguel was amusing him. Normally, this was a good thing. Now, it made Miguel want to crawl inside of himself.

Experimentally, Connor began on a swooping flower design down his forearm, a quick, featherlight touch that made Miguel scrunch a bit into himself as he held back a laugh. The strokes were definitely quicker now and clearly intended to tickle as opposed to before, but Connor wasn’t mocking him as he’d suspected. Instead, he was staring down at his arm as if transfixed, his eyes following each twitch and subtle movement of Miguel’s arm in his lap.

“It’s cute,” he said after a while, and Miguel noticed a faint dusting of pink over his cheeks, which caused Miguel to blush in turn. He was the one being tickled after all—if anyone should be embarrassed, it should be Miguel, not Connor.

“Yeah, right,” Miguel scoffed, but he had to admit that the words set him more at ease. So much so that he almost laughed when Connor began to color in the petals along his wrist. Almost. “It’s embarrassing is what it is.”

“Is it embarrassing that I’m ticklish?”

“What?” Miguel wrinkled his brow. “No. It’s adorable how easy it gets you worked up.”

“Then, the same applies to you.”

Miguel opened his mouth to retort back before realizing he really didn’t have a reply to that. He settled on staring out the sunny window across from them, his mouth sent into a scowl that was so fake it was almost comical. “You know, you’re not allowed to use my own logic against me.”

“Ah, is that how it is?”

Miguel almost replied before noticing the other’s grin. His own blush amplified—he wasn’t used to Connor being the one to mess with him. But Connor seemed to take on a new confidence while drawing, almost as if the talent was serving as a shield. Here, he was not merely Connor, but an artist. And artists, evidently, had no qualms about teasing their much bigger, much stronger boyfriends.

Miguel kind of liked it.

After that, these little drawing sessions of theirs grew more and more frequent. After a few months, Connor had acquired a gig working under a real tattoo artist and no longer needed the amateur practice, but they both continued the charade for what Miguel suspected were very similar reasons.

“Hold still.”

“I’m trying.”

“Well, try harder.”

Muffled giggles spilled throughout the dim room as Connor’s paintbrush carefully drew across the line of Miguel’s bare hip. A small lamp on Miguel’s desk provided them with light against the overbearing darkness outside. Miguel’s roommates were out of town, so the apartment remained blessedly empty aside from the two of them. They had been alone together before on many occasions and had done almost everything they could without veering too much out of their comfort zones, but this still felt more intimate somehow. Miguel’s shirt was rucked up to his chest, Connor’s fingers tucked into the hem of his jeans to reveal the soft edge of his hip, and his face was flushed a dizzying pink from his drunken laughter.

Miguel usually had to be either drunk or high for these sessions. Without the mental lubricant, he never would have dared to ask for this.  

“Does it really tickle that much?” Connor asked, a touch of genuine incredulity creeping into his voice. “I’m barely even touching you.”

Miguel wasn’t confident in his abilities to verbally communicate, so instead he nodded, huffing out a tense laugh when the brush skated underneath the bone. It was somehow worse to watch it happen, so instead he closed his eyes and tried to lose himself in the sensation. The cold burn of the paint. The soft stroke of the brush. The warmth of Connor’s fingers pressed like an iron against his skin. He felt light and jittery all at once, like electricity was running through his skin. His hands were gripped in the sheets so that they didn’t come flying down to his defense.

He could practically feel Connor’s eyes on him, though his own vision was obscured by the milky blackness of his eyelids.

“Where do you want me to go?”

Without speaking, Miguel reached down and patted around for Connor’s wrist. When he found it, he gently dragged it, and the paintbrush in turn, up to the trembling skin of his stomach. He heard a soft chuckle in response.

“You must really want this tonight, huh?”

He didn’t have to respond, a fact Miguel appreciated. Once Connor had found out that he was ticklish, Miguel had realized that any tickle fights that cropped up between them had grown wildly uneven. Then, Miguel squirmed and laughed and begged and got revenge like any other boyfriend who didn’t have a quickly growing obsession with the concept. But in these moments, he didn’t have to protest and pretend like he wasn’t loving every second of what was happening. In these moments, Connor could drown him in sweet teases and loving touches that made his mind blur, and all Miguel had to do was lay there and take it. It was usually the moment that Miguel finally broke his vow of silence that Connor knew it was time to draw things to an end.

He tensed when the brush skated across his stomach, a grin fluttering nervously at his lips. His hand fled Connor’s wrist to find refuge in a blanket once more, the ticklish sensations already digging at his self-control. Over the past few months, they had discovered a plethora of ticklish spots that even Miguel himself hadn’t known about, but none had been quite so bad as his stomach.

A breath of a laugh escaped him as Connor began sly circles around the area, a horrendously sensitive cycle that only seemed to get worse as it went on. He let himself sit there, however, needing it to tickle tonight. It had been too long since the last time they’d done this and Miguel was starving.

However, after a minute or two of this same strategy, whimpers began to join in the giggles as Miguel’s hips started to buck in protest.

“If it tickles too much, I can always stop.”

Miguel’s leg came up and lightly knocked Connor in the side, a pleading don’t you dare and an annoyed shut up. Connor’s eyebrow ticked up slightly at the jab and it sent butterflies swarming throughout Miguel’s stomach.

“Oh, is that how you’re gonna play it?”

The teasing circles were replaced by quick, swift strokes that broke down the last of Miguel’s defenses and sent torrents of stuttered laughter falling out at last. “You’re in far too ticklish of a situation to be getting cocky now. Ah, ah, ah, don’t bring your hand down now. You might accidentally do something stupid with it like try to stop me.”

It was both amazing and infuriating how the only times Connor seemed able to get the word out without turning into a blushing fool was when he was set on teasing Miguel.

Still, Miguel’s hand obediently went back up and he forced himself to stay as still as possible, allowing the gentle tickles to overload his brain before tomorrow’s sobriety would ruin the moment with overdue waves of embarrassment.

It was nearly four months into this tradition of theirs before Miguel was able to finally turn the tables.

Connor was staying late in the studio that night to finish up a project that was due, and Miguel had been sent as the ambassador of their little friend group to force him to turn in for the night so he didn’t pass out from exhaustion. It was nearing late March by then, but winter had refused to give up its grip on the weather and so Miguel was still sporting a snug flannel and a hot chocolate clasped in his hands that was his peace offering in case Connor was difficult.

The lights were still on when he walked in, unfortunately. Connor was sitting curled up in a chair by the window, a half-finished page of sketches open on the table in front of him.

“Connor.”

“Five more minutes, they can start the movie without me.”

“It is well past that by now. I’m here to make sure you find your way into a bed at some point.”

Connor snorted half-heartedly at that, which was a good sign, unlike his gaze which had refused to lift off of his paper. “Are you hoping it’ll be yours?”

“I’m hoping it’ll be any if it means you won’t fall asleep in the middle of your classes again.”

Connor did pause at that. His pencil hesitated over the page as he debated the pros and cons of listening to his boyfriend. “Ten more minutes. Ten more minutes and I’ll promise I’ll head out, really.”

Miguel sighed. He set the hot chocolate down on a table far enough away that a spill wouldn’t cause a mental breakdown and came to sit beside Connor. He gripped the edges of the sketchpad and carefully pried it out of Connor’s reluctant hands.

“Miguel—”

“You can get your ten more minutes, but they have to be on my terms.”

Connor wrinkled his brow at him only for his confusion to deepen when Miguel snatched up an errant pen on the table, snagging Connor’s arm as well. He carefully rolled up the other’s sleeves, grateful that Connor seemed transfixed enough by the sudden touch to not question his actions. It was only when he uncapped the pen and placed the tip down upon bare skin that Connor finally got the hint. He started to tug on his trapped arm, but Miguel was far stronger than him under normal circumstances and now he had a point to prove.

“No, c’mon—this isn’t fair!”

“You’re just getting your ten minutes, that’s all.” Miguel smirked up at him. “It’s not my fault that you didn’t specify whether the canvas had to be paper or not.”

Connor’s giggles were already filling the room, wild, breathy things that made Miguel’s heart catch in his throat. Unlike Miguel, whose laughter had to be carefully coaxed into the open, Connor’s laughter was infectious and impossible to hold back no matter how much the brooding future artist wanted to.

“It tihihickles!”

“I believe I’ve made that same argument about this same spot many a time before, and yet you have never once shown any sympathy.”

“That’s different, I was practicing—oh my god, Miguel, cut it out!”

The giggles were wild and free now as the pen began to squiggle over the center of his palm. Connor was half-heartedly pulling away, but it was clear he did not mind as much as he was insisting. Still, he held up the petty act no matter how obvious of a lie it was. “I need to get this homework done.”

“You need sleep,” Miguel reiterated. “If you come with me now, I’ll stop. Otherwise, I’m afraid you’ll have to serve as my canvas for your whole ten minutes.”

“That’s hahardly fahahair!”

“You’re right, ten minutes isn’t nearly enough time for the design I have in mind. Let’s make it twenty~”

Eventually, Connor did get his revenge, weeks later after Miguel had entirely forgotten about the event, but it was well worth it to pull a giggly, sleepy Connor Murphy into his car later that night to drive back to his apartment for a night of well-deserved rest.  

#tickle fic #conguel #dear evan hansen #connor murphy #miguel #tickling #fanfiction #commission #commissions

[lab-trash]

#ao3 #archive of our own #supernatural #my hero academia #bungo stray dogs #mcu #fanfiction #undertale #stranger things #harry potter #drarry #haikyuu #attack on titan #dream smp #marvel #sherkock holmes #merlin #hamilton #be more chill #dear evan hansen #genshin impact #game of thrones #bts #doctor who #friends #star trek #red vs blue #rwby #naruto #ao3 fanfic