i freaking hate your hair dear

Protector (Connor M. x Reader)

Anon says - can you do a Connor Murphy x reader where he finds the readers self harm scars? If you’re uncomfortable with that then that’s ok, and you don’t have to write it. Thank you! I love your writing! 💓

Don’t worry, I’m totally okay with writing this! It is no problem, and thank you so much!!! <3 Also!! Sorry this is out so late, I’ve been doing basically everything BUT writing because I’m dumb and lame sorry!!! And sorry if this is kind of iffy, I’m not really used to writing stuff like this, but that doesn’t mean I won’t!

Words- 1510

Warnings- Self-harm, over all bad feels, mentions of suicide

You don’t remember when it started, all you remember is a dull, numb feeling of loneliness in you. Maybe it started in your young middle school years, where you finally realized that the world wasn’t always on your side. Regardless of the time, the feelings just stuck with you, all into your late high school years.

Sometimes it got to the point where you ended up having marks on your body, some deeper than others. Sometimes you almost bled out, and you didn’t try and stop it. Those marks stuck with you, both scars and fresh wounds. Which of course meant the typical long sleeves when those marks were more noticeable.

However, it’s not like you were totally alone. You had your fair share of friends who have definitely helped you in the past. And you defiantly have your friends currently that have helped you, including the school-known Connor Murphy.

You think that your odd relationship began sometime after you sat by him during lunch. That week was your first week of Freshman year, and when you were absolutely horrified of everyone- including Connor. Of course, he was hostile towards you, not aware of your intentions. He accused you of trying to make fun of him in some way, which of course you denied and continued to deny until Connor finally started making small talk- which took weeks. Since then, Connor continued to stick by your side, seeking help from you and vice versa.

It was a nice, but odd relationship, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

Sitting at the typical lunch table, you fiddle with your sweater sleeves. You arrived before your friends, which is normal considering how close your last class is to the cafeteria. However, that didn’t stop the feeling of dread that picked at your chest. You shouldn’t be worrying, you know that they’ll be here. Still, you worry.

While waiting, the sleeves of your sweater gently brush against the cuts on your arms, making you flinch. Many of your previous cuts have yet to heal, making your clothing choices limited to sweaters and jackets. Not that you are totally complaining, you really like sweaters. However, that also means lots of flinching and pain when it scratches against your arms.

You are so distracted by the sweater and your worries, that you don’t even realize your friends sit down with you, or a hand waving in front of your face.

“(Y/N), what are you, blind and deaf? What the fuck, look at me.”

Your head snaps up as you look at Connor, a small frown formed on your face. Looking at him, he looks annoyed, but you can see the bit of worry in his eyes. He looks tired, as if he hasn’t slept in days. Which would make sense given his current situation.

You smile and shake your head. “Only blind, Connor. Close though.”

He huffs, a small smile forming. “Knowing the type of shit you pull, I wouldn’t doubt it.”

Connor places his elbow on the table, and rests his chin on his hand. “What are you doing after school?”

“I assume you ask me this because you want to hang out later? I have nothing else to do.”

Connor nods and begins talking to Evan, who is sitting across from him. You stayed out of the other conversations, choosing to just get done with your homework. Sure, you enjoy talking to everyone, but it would be better to finish homework now than tomorrow morning.

With the day ending, you speed walk to your locker to put away your stuff and wait for Connor. He typically arrives a few minutes after you, so you don’t have to wait too long.

After checking a few messages on your phone, a cold hand grabs your wrist, causing you to squeal. You look up to see Connor chuckling.

“What, I’m not that scary, am I?”

You roll your eyes and start walking, Connor following. “You’re a very scary boy, Connor. Spooky ghost hands and all.”

After that, Connor stayed quiet until you reached the park that you both hang out at. You walk over to a tree and plop down in front of it, stretching out. You felt your sleeves start to roll down, so you quickly put your arms down, and hold onto the end of the sleeves.

Connor sets himself next to you and leans against the tree. He glances at you and raises his eyebrow. “What’s with the sleeve work?”

You snicker. “Sleeve work?”

“Fuck you too, (Y/N). Now do you wanna answer my question?”

“Not really, thanks though, Con.”

Rolling his eyes, he grunts. “Or you can be an ass.”

You lean against Connor and gently poke his arm. “Hush, I just like holding onto my sleeves.”

While Connor didn’t completely believe what you said, he decided that it would be best to just drop it for now. Not that you would tell Connor, you couldn’t have him worrying about the cuts on your arms when he has better things to worry about.

The two of you spent hours at the tree, teasing each other, petting dogs that walked by, and just talking. Everything the two of you did there was special. Honestly, you wouldn’t mind spending eternity at the tree, reliving all of your memories.

You glance at your phone and start to stand up. However, Connor was faster, and grabbed your forearm. The sudden contact and pressure to your cuts made you cry out and you fell back down.

Instantly, Connor retracted his arm and sat up straight.

“What the fuck was that? Why did you do that?” Connor asked, raising his voice slightly.

You gently rubbed your forearm and looked at him. “Y-you just scared me is all… No big deal, sorry.”

“Give me your arm.”

“What, no-“



“You are fucking unbearable.”

You smiled slightly. “You’re still here, so I guess I’m not totally unbearable.”

“I’ll leave right now.”


You both stood up and looked at each other. It looked like Connor was about to say something, but instead he just waved and walked away. You watched him as he walked away, and frowned. You were hoping that he would want to stay at your house for the night.

Instead, you walk home alone.

It might have been midnight, or maybe ever later. However, late in the night you received a text from Connor saying something about a house. You could barley read his text, so you just set down the phone and tried to fall back asleep.

It wasn’t until you heard a light tapping on your window that you finally got up and realized that Connor really was going to come over.

Sliding out of your bed, you shuffle over to the window and open it for him. Not waiting for Connor to come inside, you move the sheets to the corner of your bed and sit down, allowing room for Connor to sit.

Connor climbs in, taking off his jacket and boots, and sits next to you. He lies back on the bed, pulling you down with him. You smile slightly as he wraps his arm around your body and pulls you close to him.

“I can see your arms.”

You freeze. You glance at your arms and your eyes widened. You didn’t realize that you were wearing a tank top, and your cuts could still be seen in the moonlight.

Panicking, you attempt to wiggle away, muttering out a mixture of apologies. You could feel your chest becoming tight as tears began to build up, threatening to spill. How could you have been so stupid? How could you let him see you like this?

“Hey… Hey, (Y/N), look at me.” Connor gently held onto you, gently taking your hand.

You slowly turn your head to look at him, tears slowly spilling. “I-I’m sorry…”

“Why are you fucking apologizing?” He whispered, gently cupping your cheek.

“Y-you shouldn’t have to worry about me, its n-no big deal, really.” You let out a small sob and bit your lip.

Connor gently pulled you into his chest. “Too late, I’m sticking by you, and you bet your ass that I’m going worry about you, you idiot.”

You let out a small laugh as the tears continue to roll down your face and onto Connor’s shirt.

“Can you show them all to me tomorrow? I’ll take care of them for you.”

“You’re s-scaring me, Connor. You’re n-never this calm.”

“Shit (Y/N), sorry that I actually care about you and want to make sure that you don’t end up like me. I don’t want to see you become a self-hating freak. Let me help you, (Y/N).”

“A-alright… Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Hush…Go to bed.” Connor mumbles, burying his face in your hair. He knows the feeling all too well, and he wants to help you. But until then, he just wants to hold you, protect you from everything.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, okay?”


And with that, the two of you fell asleep.