#evanmcconne

[hibernationden]

@evanmcconne asked:

Most of the corporate lackeys from the Network were not even subtle at how they looked at Courtney in a dress. It was a novelty, even for Evan (their line of work did not have room for fancy or pretty in terms of outfits, after all) but the way they stared was downright disgusting. The group leader was not even on the receiving end of it and he felt like punching a guy or two, just to see if they thought better about having some fucking manners. Instead of doing that - he walked over to Courtney, a drink in hand to mask any true intentions, raising the glass in a sarcastic toast that paired well with the sardonic grin on his face. "How would you kill them for staring? I know you want to," Evan whispered to her, teasing and strangely playful despite the content of his words. They had been seeing each other off-duty long enough for some dangerous intimacy to bloom - which explained the way Evan lowered his shades to look at Courtney next, suddenly deadly serious. "How would you kill me for staring? Because I'm not innocent either - just smarter," he said, taping the frame of his glasses for emphasis and giving her a smug grin of his own as the small confession settled among them.

of her wardrobe tonight, the deep plunge of her neckline is the most damning against for her efforts to go unbothered through this event. there would be plenty of other reasons they'd stare — the gold earrings mirroring the amber shine of her eyes, the folds of dark, metallic fabric emphasizing the warmth of her skin, the pull of her hair into a low bun and the stray brunette waves that frame her face — but what little amount of tit she has to flaunt is certainly being flaunted.

in all honesty, she fucking loves this gown. too bad wearing it feels like putting on clown makeup. courtney doesn't even fault the guys who watch her, who smirk with half their mouths and mumble to each other. she cleans up nice, i'll say that. she can practically hear them saying it, even from across the room, because it's all a part of the script and they're performing their roles quite nicely.

no, killing them would be more trouble than it's worth. the mess they'd make…

"what? you want me to tell you all my sick plans for you so you can jack off about it later?"

her voice is dry. she sips the champagne in her hand and peeks up at him, not yet turning her body towards him.

"sorry, dude, i think you've gotta be, like—" courtney thumbs open one of the program flyers on the table before her, miming the action more than committing to it. "donor tier eight before you get perks like that. better open up your wallet."

the network is one very demanding pimp. with the huff of a sigh, her eyes scan across the room, evidently bored.

"i was just thinking about you." brazen. her head tilts, and her delicate golden necklace catches the light from where it rests at her sternum. she won't elaborate on that point. finally turning herself to him, they make a handsome couple. she takes her time looking him over, amusement (or perhaps, fondness) in her gaze.

"and hey, now they're all staring at us." as if to prove her point, courtney draws closer to him. a hand is laid on his chest, admiring the fine fabric they've dressed him in. she's toying with the fact they're both trapped in perception, letting evan in on the joke she's making of it all.

"should i be flattered that when men stare at me, you think about them dying?"

[benrichardslives]

Pain was a longtime companion; Evan's body was way more intimate with violence than any sort of kindness or gentleness. The knife that had been plunged into his chest hours earlier by Richards had been a welcome certainty - the sharp, intense sting was familiar.

The makeshift bandage that followed, the support for clumsy steps after considerable blood loss and shared revenge were alien territory.

Evan wasn't sure where they were - he hadn't needed to hide in years, but the dim lights and the distant sound of water dripping made him suspect of a hideout of sorts. His own right hand moved over the bandage lightly, unconsciously approving of the rushed (even if amateur) work - not too shabby considering their circumstances.

"Why did you do it?" Evan asked, voice sounding remarkably neutral for two men who had fought to death's door (and as if that single round of hand to hand combat hadn't been the most real thing in years in a world so terribly performative for television). "I wouldn't have spared you the same courtesy."

A wry smile followed as Evan recalled his own moment of truth, many seasons ago, "You know I didn't."

— @evanmcconne, unprompted.

No, Ben could have said then, I never did watch any of that shit. But there wouldn't have been a point, and he felt he and McCone had had enough conflict (not even of their own doing, Christ) to last a lifetime.

His expression was exhausted, but more at peace than it had ever been these last few weeks. Ben shrugged, winced, and then relaxed against the wall he was propped against in an attempt to keep himself together.

"You were in the same fucked up situation as I was," he said. "And I don't know if they showed you my file, but I have a really stupid knack for saving other people."

Never mind that the State labelled such things "insubordination".

"I'll be honest," Ben started, hand resting lightly over his bandaged stomach, "it's not like I wasn't aiming to kill you. That part was an accident.

"But I killed enough fuckers on this tour, and the plane exploding meant the show was over-- we didn't have to fight any more." Ben wanted to say that he could see each of his victim's faces if he closed his eyes, but that would be a lie. The murdered he left behind were as faceless to him as he'd been to them. "And I thought, well... you hate the Network, too, right? You want 'em burned to the fucking ground too, right?

"It's all I needed." He laughed, groaned, and then tried to relax again despite the pain. Clearly Ben's manners as a patient were awful. "Fuck. I gotta stop doing that."

[finalslay]

@evanmcconne sent:

It wasn't as if Hawkins had a lot of options for a man like him before the 'earthquake', but it got worse after it. The quarantine made certain things disappear (his favorite booze; the go-to snacks) so he had to make do with the establishments that remained open - even if Ricky's biking spot wasn't his usual hangout place. The regulars were older than Evan would have liked, the music was a bit on the corny side and the fries were terribly soggy every damn time. But it had good drinks - and dark hallways leading to a backyard where no cameras were working. After the first one broke down following a sad incident with a bird, no one replaced it. Evan made sure of it - particularly after that area became their regular meeting spot. Nancy never walked through the front door (she was too damn beautiful; a woman like her would never go unnoticed in that den of retired bikers), but finding him resting against the brick wall with a beer in hand was easy. Smiling at her figure as she got closer was even easier; nights like that had him almost believing that Nancy went through the trouble of looking nice just for him. "A nice girl like you shouldn't be hanging out with guys like me," Evan grinned after a sip of his beer, free hand moving some of the hair off his face. Out of formal duty, he didn't bother to keep it slicked back - or to fully button his shirt, allowing a silver chain with a dogtag dangle forward as he greeted her, "You should listen to your mother's words of wisdom, Nancy."

there was a certain amount of risk involved with this little game that they play. it doesn't take a genius to know that. that's why her car always gets parked a couple of blocks away ; the last thing she wanted was for word to end up back to anyone about her whereabouts. her mom would have her head if she knew where nancy frequented for this little meetup — and the others in the group would kill her if they knew why she was here.

the soldier. the leader.

evan.

it's easier to tell herself that she's only here to keep an eye on him, only here to try and learn more and more about what this damned military wants with eleven, just as he had been tasked with following her around for likely the same reasons.

it isn’t the whole truth, though. not anymore.

nancy was almost painfully aware of that.

still, it didn’t stop her from flashing a smile as she approached ; it didn't stop her from appreciating the sight of him, his hair all messy and shirt partially undone. in fact, she was quite shameless with the way that blue eyes looked evan up and down, a hint of a smile toying at her lips as she closed the gap between them.

“ what karen wheeler doesn't know won't hurt her, ” she answered, only to then reach out and wrap her hand around the neck of his beer bottle. with a tug, she brought it to her lips, gaze never leaving evan's face as she took a quick swig from the bottle. her hand moved afterwards, fingers instead brushing against the exposed skin of his chest.

sometimes, she wondered what this would be if there were no secrecy involved, no spying and sneaking. it was a thought that wouldn't lead to anything good, that much she did know. this is the hand they have been dealt, and all she can do is make the most of it.

“ because, you see — ” up onto her tiptoes nancy went, a kiss placed against the stubble on his jawline. “ — i can take care of myself just fine. wouldn't you agree? ”

[hibernationden]

@evanmcconne sent:

"I had to fire three men this morning after your little stroll last night," Evan said in a casual, surprisingly amenable tone despite the content of that declaration. For someone who wielded that type of brutal yet invisible power, he was remarkably soft-spoken. "It seems to me you are confusing my house with some summer camp," the newspaper was lowered then, allowing the man to make eye contact with his (un?)willing guest, "I can have you tied up or chained to furniture if it helps, Courtney." It was a threat - issued in the same smooth and velvety voice, with grey eyes locking on her figure and staring at her for a long minute. The silence stretched and magnified between then, with Evan's brows moving just enough to accompany the hint of a smirk. Was he amused? Angry? Impressed? It was hard to tell given his composure, particularly when the paper hid his visage again. "And please stop going to that club - it's a disgusting place. I can show you much better options if you ask nicely."

courtney grimaces, however briefly, at the consequences of her actions as evan describes them. there's no trace of remorse, just the pang of sympathy and the thought that the job market is fucking rough right now. sucks for those guys. she did evan a favor finding the weak points in his security, it's only a shame they're not left remaining for her to exploit. surely she'll find another way to get what she wants, though.

sat across the table from him, the young woman helps herself to a generous cup of coffee. the smile on her face is undeterred by his words.

"is this your first time doing this whole kidnapping thing?"

she pulls a face at the offerings for their meal this morning, debating her choices before finally grabbing a few slices of bacon and dropping them on her plate. no mind is paid to the tongs beside the platter.

"feels weird you're saying please to me. i mean, i don't wanna to ruin your whole… thing." a nibble of bacon is taken and she talks out of the corner of her mouth. "what's it called? verisa—… fuck, it's one of those SAT words, man. whatever. your aura."

courtney leans back in her seat, enjoying the luxury of the fine sleepwear he's provided for her.

"but if you wanna go clubbing with me so bad, you should just hold me at gunpoint or something, right? or—" a realization hits her and she brightens, searching for eye contact with him. "oh, you really want me to want it, huh? should i be asking you to please tie me down, sir? since i obviously don't know what's good for myself…"

her doe eyes are right on cue.

[hibernationden]

@evanmcconne sent:

"You were not lying," Evan said as soon as Courtney walked into the room, even if he never glanced up from his phone. The head hunter remained comfortably seated at the back of their break room, left leg crossed over the right one while he scrolled down through socials. It wasn't until the brunette was closer to him that he lifted his head, smiling somewhat smugly at the huntress and turning the device around so she could see it. It was her own profile - with a lot of content uploaded to it from a couple of nights ago, tagging Courtney so it showed to those following her. There were several videos of their kiss and departure from the Network gala, from different angles - a lot of people had done more than just talk about them. McCone's face was a blur - none of the guests managed to bypass the Network's rules, after all. "I'm not sure if they realize that was me because of the filter - but they are threatening me," Evan sounded incredibly amused, "One of them said I should burn in hell. I almost responded with a 'been there, done that' but that would ruin the entire 'ghost' act."

"yeah, i'm telling you, some of them are fuckin' insane." courtney's grown accustomed to the relationship between herself and her fans. they are, quite literally, why she's alive today but that doesn't make them as entitled to her as some of them would like. it will never become normal to her, having so many eyes on her every move, but like anything else life has thrown at her, she's learned to work around it.

she sits at the table, wishing she could sit in his lap instead. maybe she could. it occurs to her they haven't spoken about public affection, not now that he's let the cat out of the bag. struck by her own instincts of intimacy, courtney stares at him for a long moment, seeming to have lost her train of thought. giving up her efforts to figure him (and them) out, courtney reaches over and plucks his phone, scrolling through the feed.

"damn, i really did look good. no wonder you couldn't keep your paws off me." a side glance with a wicked smile. "they'll figure you out based on, like— i don't know, the width of your pinky finger or something. if there's one thing i've learned, it's to not underestimate degenerates with too much time on their hands."

if it were anyone but evan, she'd worry. god, that's disgusting. stupid man kisses her and then she very nearly worries about him. courtney purses her lips together, clearly unsatisfied with what she's looking at. the phone is passed back to evan and, surprisingly earnest, her wide eyes meet his with a question.

"would you let me have pictures of us?" us. the word makes her uncomfortable, but it only shows as a furrow of her brow, emphasizing her curious (frankly, pleading) look that she's given him.

[finalslay]

@evanmcconne sent : “ is it a boy or a girl? ” + 49. a kiss on the inner thigh.

sitting on the edge of their bed, wearing nothing but panties and one of his tee shirts, nancy watched carefully as evan crouched down before her. the adoration in his gaze made her feel like she was a queen on a throne, and nancy would be lying if she were to say that the sight didn't have an effect on her.

her teeth sank into the inside of her cheek, and her fingers gripped the blankets beneath her. it's hardly the first time that evan's made himself at home between her thighs — god, he looked so pretty like this — but there's an affection to the gesture that made her heart pound.

his kiss was gentle, and nancy shuddered softly. she would never get used to it, the love he so freely offered to her. her hand moved to intertwine itself in his hair, watching with bated breath as he placed yet another kiss to the soft skin of her thigh. so close, so damn close.

in a flash though, evan was instead gently pushing her backwards until she was lying flat across the bed. nancy still gasped in surprise, even despite the care taken with the gesture. her husband's kisses continued — another placed on her other thigh, moving to her hip, and then, after hitching up her shirt ever-so-slightly, coming to settle upon the pale skin of her stomach.

she isn't showing yet — it's too early for that, the news still too fresh, but they both know and that's all that matters. it's ironic, really, the way that their love affair was initially born out of secrecy, and now this many years later, there's a ring on her finger and a baby on the way. ah, how times have changed.

evan's question made her smile. truth be told, it wasn't something she had put much thought into yet, but ... “ i think it's a girl. ” nancy laughed, a soft huff of amusement, followed by her teasing, “ another stubborn wheeler girl to annoy you, of course. ”

[finalslay]

Speaking strictly about Nancy - you were the reason I even watched the last season. You have such a dedication and attention for every little thing that makes her such an intriguing character and you do justice to all sides of her: both the strong and clever leader of a group but also this individual that has lost close friends and been on the awful receiving end of rumors and gossip. You never lose track of the influence of her original time period and you have always been careful to respect her origins and also make her your own daughter. It's been such a joy to see her thriving around and I hope we will get to keep her for years to come. Thank you for gifting all of us with your precious Nance! :3

MARI, I ABSOLUTELY ADORE YOU. this is so sweet, and I appreciate it so much, thank you for always accepting my gremlins with open arms, and for always offering up your blorbos to me and mine. I adore writing and plotting with you so, so much; you have the best ideas, and the care and dedication you put into each and every plot/dynamic/muse SHOWS. Once again, this is the sweetest thing ever, and thank you AGAIN for sending it. <333

how's my portrayal meme.

[hibernationden]

@evanmcconne sent: you can't lie to me. i can tell when you're lying. (Courtney!)

"i absolutely can lie to you. just 'cause you KNOW it's a lie doesn't mean i can't do it." and that logic clearly feels like a triumph to her. she shrugs, as if to ask what in the world he's expecting from her, and then crosses her arms.

"look, i ran late. big deal. i know you guys aren't too friendly with the concept of work-life balance around here but that doesn't mean i have to spill my guts to you." talking with evan usually feels like walking a tightrope. except the tightrope is made out of that wire that people use to cut cheese, and she's the cheese.

"i'm here now. isn't that what matters?"