Cheating & Miscommunication
Request from @the-dead-angel: A fic where Connor thinks he was cheated on so they break up but then maybe there is a happy ending (or not your choice).
Warnings: Mentions of mental and physical relationship abuse. Connor and the reader don’t have a healthy relationship in this one. Please don’t assume that it’s romanticizing the fact that hitting your partner is ever okay. It’s only a one-shot so I didn’t have much time to go into depth about that topic but I just wanted to try and make that clear here.
“Thank you, Jake. I appreciate it.” You leaned up and hugged the muscular boy. He was your lab partner for science. Last week you had missed an important lesson and he had been kind enough to fill you in during lunch. He wasn’t normally the sort of person you’d hang out with. He tended to run with the more popular crowd. You were certainly not a part of that group but Jake was nice to you anyway. He was very handsome too. Lot’s of girls in your grade had a crush on him. You could see why.
You watched him walk away as the bell rang indicating the last class of the day was about to start. You had a ceramics course with Connor last period. It was lucky he was in the class with you because otherwise it’d be a miserable time. You had zero artistic abilities. So far all of your misshapen bowls had blown up in the kiln. Connor wasn’t any better. You could at least both suffer together. Before you could even take your first step towards the door, someone blew past you. They hit directly into the back of your shoulder and you stumbled forward. “What the fu-” You looked over to see Connor swiftly moving away from you. You frowned. What the hell was his problem?
You rubbed your aching shoulder and followed after him. He was already perched at his usual stool besides the wide art tables in the classroom. His back was to you. You both liked to sit at the furthest table from the door facing out the window. It looked like a gloomy afternoon outside. From behind him you could see his shoulders tensing and his back was rigid. You pulled up to the stool next to him. “What the actual fuck was that about, Connor? Did you not see me standing there?”
He didn’t reply. Instead he angled his body away from you. You huffed, “Oh, so you’re ignoring me now? Great. Good for you. Two can play at that game.” You scowled and moved your stool to the far end of the table. Despite putting on a pissed off look, you were actually a little hurt. Connor had a tendency to do things like this. He would just shut you out and stop talking to you and you’d be forced to figure out what was wrong. Sometimes he acted like a hormonal teenage girl. You tapped your fingers on the table top and tried to think back to what you could have done to set him off. Nothing was immediately coming to mind.
Your teacher strolled in a minute later and interrupted your thinking. Today’s lesson we were meant to create fairy houses out of clay. You inwardly groaned. You literally couldn’t even make a bowl. How the hell were supposed to make a whimsical looking house? You went to turn and complain to Connor. Then you remembered he obviously wasn’t speaking to you. An ache of sadness tugged at your heart as you got up to get your block of clay. When you returned back to your seat, he had his headphones in. You held back a sigh.
You were never very good at getting through to him. You let your emotions over run you most of the time. When Connor got pissed off and quiet, so did you. Neither of you wanted to be the first to crack. You were both stubborn like that. It wasn’t the healthiest relationship but you loved him anyway. At least with a giant block of clay in front of you, you would be able to literally beat out some frustration. Your clay became your punching bag. It was all in the name of art and getting out air bubbles, of course. Not because you were imagining Connor’s face in the material…
When the bell signaling the end of school finally rang, your hands were caked in wet clay. You had put everything you had into this stupid fairy house and it didn’t look half bad either. You glanced over at Connor’s. He hadn’t even attempted to start the project. Typical Connor. Never putting effort into anything. As you moved past him to wash your hands, you purposely elbowed him in the back. He responded with a sharp glare. You glared right back. It was funny, you still had no idea what you were actually supposed to be angry about. All you knew was that Connor was upset at you, therefore, you were equally upset back. Petty could have been your middle name.
Chunks of grey clay fell off your hands under the stream of hot water and swirled down the drain. You watched them disappear. Then you remembered that you had gotten a ride with Connor this morning. He was supposed to drive you home after school. You groaned under your breath. It was a little late to find new ride home now. You’d just walk. Even if it took the rest of the afternoon to get home, you’d rather walk than be stuck in a car with his stupid, dumb face.
It wasn’t much of a choice anyway. When you turned around from washing your hands, he was already gone. You collected your things and walked out of the school with your head held low. You refused to cry over Connor. He could deal with his own shit. You did nothing wrong. Ever. You were perfect. He was the asshole. It helped you to think this way otherwise you’d go insane. Your house was a good five miles from the school. It was not a walk you ever intended to take but your stubbornness overpowered everything else. Five miles was nothing if it meant avoiding your boyfriend out of pure spite.
Only twenty minutes in and your legs were already hurting. You seriously needed to exercise more. This was just pathetic. Then you had to laugh to yourself. Yeah, right. That would never happen. Dark, grey clouds loomed over head. They seemed to reflect your inner feelings. If it started to rain, you were so done…and just as that thought blossomed in your head, a single raindrop hit your forehead. Great. Just great. Of course the universe was against you too.
“Fuck you, sky!” You shouted into the air.
An elderly man getting his mail gave you a funny look as he glanced up from his mail box.
“And fuck you too, you old piece of shit.” You mumbled that one under your breath. You didn’t actually want him to hear that. He hadn’t done anything wrong. You were just pissed at the world.
Another five minutes into the walk and the sky had opened up. It was fully raining now. Not just rain either, lightning slashed across the sky and was followed by thunderous booms. Thick, heavy, cold rain drops soaked through your clothes. Your wet hair stuck to your face. Since you had never intended to be outside in this weather, you hadn’t brought a jacket to school. You had no form of protection from the assaulting storm. It was a perfect time to start crying now. Your tears would mix in with the rain. Fuck Connor. It was his fault you were out here and you didn’t even know what you had done to upset him. He was always doing stupid shit like this. You were beginning to get fed up with his behavior. You deserved someone better. Someone who would treat you right.
A handful of cars flew by you down the side road. Their wheels kicked up waved of puddles which crashed down over your legs. You didn’t even flinch. You were already drenched at this point. Your socks sloshed around in your converse shoes. Everything was cold and awful. The more you focused on how uncomfortable you were, the more you hated Connor.
A car rolled up slowly beside you. “Speak of the devil,” you muttered. It was him. You didn’t need to turn to check. You’d spent countless hours fooling around in that back seat. You’d know that car anywhere. Connor pulled up beside you as you walked. You refused to even glance in his general direction. He rolled down the passenger window and yelled out of it, “Get in!”
You ignored him. You knew it’d only make him angrier. You pretended not to hear him and kept walking.
He growled, “Dammit, Y/N! It’s pouring rain! Get it!” He kept driving a steady slow pace beside you.
There was nothing he could do that would get you into that car. He didn’t deserve you. You marched along, trying not to slip, as there was no sidewalk and you were forced to walk on the grass which was turning into soupy, brown mud when your foot sank into it.
He laid his hand on the horn, not letting up. The awful noise vibrated in your ears but you refused to grimace at the loud sound despite wanting to. “Get. In. The. Fucking. Car!” He shouted over the noise of his horn and the pounding rain.
Still, you kept strong. Not even giving him the courtesy to look in his general direction. You kept your eyes straight ahead. They were still red from crying but he wasn’t the sort of person who would notice that. Fuck Connor Murphy. You were done with him. He could get the picture and leave you alone. Walking five miles in a storm was better than anything he could ever give you.
You heard him growl again and he stepped on the gas. His car shot out in front of you and pulled onto the side of the road literally blocking what little space you had to walk forward. He flung open his door and got out. He was seething in anger. You inwardly smiled to yourself at the sight, proud that your pettiness was working to provoke him. You stopped walking and put your hands on your hips, “I’m sorry can I help you with something?”
Your tone only fueled his annoyance with you. He moved towards you. Despite the fact that he towered over you, he didn’t scare you. He liked to pretend he was tough but you knew better than that. You scowled up at him. Rain drops kept hitting you in the face and you had to blink over time to see through them.
“You’re the most pathetic and stubborn person I have ever met,” he spit out at you. “Get in the fucking car.”
“I’m pathetic and stubborn?! Take a fucking look in the mirror, asshole!” You shoved by him, walking in the road to move around his car blocking the path.
He grabbed your wrist and forcefully tugged you back to him. You tried to pull against him but his grip was too tight. “Let go of me!” You yelled up at him. When he refused to listen, you resorted to kicking him directly in the shin. He let out an “oof” of pain but only held on tighter. You struggled against him. He was fighting to pull you into to the car and you were fighting to stay outside in the rain. Eventually he managed to slam you back against the side of his car and pin you there by pressing his arms around either side of you.
“Fuck you, Connor! Let me go!” A crack of lightning lit up the dark sky as if to emphasize your words. You shoved your hands against his chest to try and get him off.
He was breathing heavy while trying to physically gain control of you. This wasn’t the first time you two had fought like this and it probably wouldn’t be the last. You were always the one fighting against him while he tried to pacify your attempts on him. You had kicked, punched, slapped, hit, and bit him in the past whenever he got you angry enough. You knew it wasn’t a health relationship but you couldn’t ever stop yourself from physically lashing out at him. He would fight back too but never as bad. The only time he’d lay his hands on you was if he was trying to restrain you. You hated being restrained. You hated feeling trapped. He was a master at using his words, or lack of words, to hurt you though. You both know exactly how to destroy the other and neither of you were afraid to do it when emotions got high.
Connor pinned your hands on the car and leaned in close. The rain was starting to slick down his hair the longer he was out in it. It dripped down over his face, leaving streaks of glistening wetness in their wake. “Stop it,” his voice was low and commanding.
All the fight went out of you when you looked into his eyes. They had softened from their icy stare when he leaned in closer to you. Your arms went limp in his grip and you slouched against his car with a sigh. You had the sudden urge to cry again. “Why are you angry at me,” you voice came out sounding much more pathetic and sad than you had intended for it to. You guessed that you probably resembled a stray, wet dog at this point. It wasn’t very intimidating.
He hesitated. He still hadn’t released your arms but he his constraint had loosened significantly. “You keep fucking around with that asshole. You know what his friends did to me,” the fight had left his voice too.
You thought about his words and suddenly it came flooding back to you. He was jealous. Jealous of Jake, your science partner. But he wasn’t just jealous, you ate lunch with Connor every single day. Today you had skipped out to eat with Jake while he filled you in on everything you had missed in class. Had you even texted Connor about that? Your eyes widened in realization. You had forgotten to tell him that you weren’t going to meet him for lunch. You had forgotten to explain it him. He had been waiting for you and when he finally found you, you had been with another guy. It wasn’t just any random guy either. It was Jake. He was friends with a lot of people who enjoyed giving Connor hell whenever they could. His behavior all started to fall into place.
You gave him a mournful look, “Oh Connor…I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you about lunch. I didn’t…he’s literally just my partner for science. That’s all. I’m so sorry.”
Connor looked down. He let go of your wrists and your arms fell limply to your sides. He seemed to be considering your apology. You didn’t give him much time to contemplate it because you brushed your hands through his hair, “I love you, Connor. You. Always you. No one else.” Your thumb traced the line of his jaw. “Come here…” You pulled his face closer to yours and kissed him gently. He took a second before kissing you back, but when he did, he put his own apology into the kiss. He didn’t have to use words to say he was sorry. You were able to tell through his actions alone.
You willing got into his car then. You were soaking wet and miserable but you felt better now that you understood Connor.
He reached for you hand as he pulled off the side of the road to take you home.