#swat connor

[detroitbecomeonline]

HERE IS MY SWAT CONNOR THAT I WORKED SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND HOW TO DO HERE LOOK AT HIM

Please don't save my screenshots and post them elsewhere. <3

Related:

Learn how to create SWAT Connor for yourself here. See my mod learning progress and how-tos here. See other gallery stuff here.

[just-another-rk800-obsessed-fan]

SWAT Connor appreciation post...

Pictures from @ellellebe (@vrtuellereality) on Twitter

[c0nstantinez]

Hello,🤗

could you please help by reblogging a post about my fundraising campaign to support my family ?

Find it in my pinned post🙏

Your assistance (donations or reblogging) would mean a lot.🙏🙏

Thanks You🌷❤️

Hi yes of course!!! Y’all go support Ahmed and his family here!

[mooseonahunt]

Sixty’s about to ruin someone’s night.

[alisbackalleybbq]

Dominque Luca, don’t you dare go after Ava Bekker! Look what she did to Conner’s dad!

[hollisxwrites]

could you write a percy x daughter of dionysus reader? 🧎‍♀️🙏🏼

lay all your love on me

AGED UP percy jackson x daughter of dionysus! reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: inspired by the "lay all your love on me" scene in momma mia!, just take out the funny background dancers. pretty spicy, not fully on smut, but definitely some heavy making out and innuendos. underwater kissing, mention of underage drinking and the reader being a little bit of a troublemaker, some language, possibly can be seen as slightly angst at the beginning with some little bitty bit of jealously. i really like this one!

summary: the reader is bored on a beach day with her boyfriend, percy, so she decides to tease him a little bit, which ends up with her and her boyfriend making out on the ocean floor LMAO.

Laughter filled the air as my boyfriend, Percy, and I sprawled out on the beach of Camp. It was one of the rare days of peace we had at Camp, a beautiful, glorious, Sunday. Percy looked stunning, as always, the sun warming his freckled face, and the sea making his already perfect hair even curlier. His swim trunks, even though they had unicorns in shark onesies on them, clung to his figure perfectly. I took a sip of my champagne that we had managed to steal out of the cabinet that my dad kept near his desk, and I tried to pry my eyes away from Percy. He was chattering out about something that had happened with the younger campers the day before, watching the waves from his perch against a rock. I wanted to distract him from the mundane talk of camp, so I decided I would mess with the boy a little bit.  

I stood up from where I sat near Percy and pulled off the oversized tee shirt that I had on over my swimsuit. The swimsuit was plum purple, and I knew Percy loved it, he made it abundantly clear every time I wore it. I stood near the water, about ten or eleven feet away from Percy when his conversation finally died down. “You look...beautiful, dear gods.” He choked out, his voice straining a little bit.  

I smiled and adjusted my hair, so it framed my face. “Thank you, darling.” I took another swig out of my champagne flute and turned so my back was to Percy. Soon enough, just as I expected, Percy was beside me. He moved to put his hand on my lower back, but I swatted his hand away. I looked over and saw the little pout on his face, and knew my mission was already succeeding.  

“I noticed you talking to Connor a lot yesterday, what’s that about?” Percy asked, his tone almost a little bitter, even though I could tell by his demeanor that he was joking with me. 

I shrugged. “I lived in the Hermes cabin for a long time, Mr. D never wanted to claim me because he didn’t want to have to punish his own daughter. I used to get into a lot of trouble at Camp.” 

Percy chuckled at this. “Oh, I know. What did Connor want, though? You guys don’t usually talk like that.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Perc.” I looked him in the eye. “He was just asking me if I knew who had stable duties this week, since we both are in trouble with Chiron right now.” 

Percy sighed, letting his eyes wander down my figure, which sent electric shock through my entire body. “Okay, I’m just not used to being so jealous. Any guy I see talk to you feels like a potential threat.” He moved closer to me, our fingers millimeters away from touching. 

“You have no reason to be afraid of other guys. You know I’ve only ever had eyes for you. You have all my love.” I said, comforting the boy. 

He nodded at this. “Sorry, I feel so possessive of you sometimes, you’re just so fucking beautiful, I know any guy would want to have you, but you’re mine.”    

A shiver ran down my spine. “That’s why I love you so much, Perc. That is exactly how I am with you. I don’t want anyone else to even look at you.” 

Percy leaned down a little bit, probably trying to kiss me, and I connected our noses, but never our lips. I moved away, pushing his muscular chest a little, and went to take a sip from the glass still in my hand. He smirked a little bit, finally catching onto the game I was playing with him. I set the glass down in the sand, and walked further into the water, thus further away from Percy. I flipped myself so I was facing him again. “Don’t go wasting your emotion, Perc. Lay all your love on me!”  

He giggled, obviously getting the ABBA reference I was making here. “Okay, miss disco queen.”  

I laughed, getting close enough to kiss him again. This time, just our top lips touch before I pull away and move back to the rock we were leaning against earlier. Perched again on the rock, I looked Percy in the eye. His eyes wandered once again to my figure in the swimsuit, but not in a way that made me uncomfortable, in fact, he made me feel so loved with his gaze. He moved towards me this time, and finally brought us together into a real kiss. My back pressed against the cool surface of the rocks, and I was fully immersed in the kiss. His hands went to my waist, pulling my chest flesh against his, causing my entire body to feel ignited by his touch.  

He separated us, leaving me panting and my knees weak. “Two can play this game, disco queen.” He ran off into the water, diving into the depths of the salty sea. 

“Not fair!” I shouted out after him, still trying to compose myself after the earth-shattering kiss we shared. Sure, as a Dionysus kid, I may have a lot of wit and a lot of charm, but I could not breath underwater like Percy could. Suddenly, I saw a mop of blond curls pop up from the water about half a mile into the distance. “Percy Jackson!” I yelled again. 

I saw, or at least I thought I did, him flipping me off from the distance, and that made the desire in me to catch him even stronger. I hopped in the water and started to paddle my arms, quiet poorly, trying aimlessly to catch up with the boy. I felt a hand grab my calf, and I yelped as I was pulled into the water. I came face to face with Percy. I hated to say it, but he looked even more attractive underwater, if that was even possible. His lips met mine, once again, and due to his touch and manipulation of the water, I could breathe, ish. His hands gripped me, pulling me further down into the dingy water. Being underwater with Percy was always a thrill, especially when we were making out like this, tongues clashing and hands being nowhere and everywhere all at once. When he finally parted from me, both of us were panting like dogs. “Gods, I love you.” 

I giggled, pressing a lingering kiss into his jawline. “I love you, too.”  

He bit his lip as I continued to press kisses into his jaw, his neck, and eventually his collarbones. Maybe it was the champagne going to my head, or maybe it was my handsome boyfriend, but I had never been happier than I was in this moment. My kisses went lower and lower down his abdomen, and I’m sure what you can guess what happened next. 

But, as they say, what happens in the ocean stays in the ocean, or something like that.    

[the-newlymadeweeb]

His Girl

Luke Castellan x female!reader

Description: Luke spends a moment with his favourite hot tempered darling.

Gif is not mine, credits to the creator.

*****************************************************************************

It was an agreed upon opinion that battle axes were incredibly unconventional but you had decided from the moment you had it made that this would be your weapon of choice. And by the gods, did you have a temper. You'd joke that at least your brutish rage would match your brutish weapon. It was extremely ironic when the owl symbol burned brightly over your head and not the symbolic blessing of Ares.

Luke always thought you were a fascinating person: soft features sharply contrasted with fiery eyes and an axe. All that righteous rage never looked so beautiful. He'd received a very limited amount of blessings that were for him alone, but you were satiating and comforting and the hollowed feeling in his chest filled when you let him reach out and accept him in your hands and heart.

And sometimes he'd think, okay maybe there's some salvation and goodness for me.

"Luke? What are you–"

"Just– let me, okay?" He asked as he traced his thumb across your brow and cheekbone, his other hand cupping the back of your neck, cradling you close– admiring, imbibing, "the twins tried to prank you again?"

You rolled your eyes, "would've been funny if I didn't see it a mile away."

"Is that so? Is that why they had me hide your axe?"

He laughed, drawing you close, kissing away the claims of betrayal and conspiracy.

"Gods, you're so beautiful," He sighed.

Sooner or later things were going to change. Luke had a feeling that the summer solstice would truly stir the pot and for all your anger, he knew that when it came down to it, you might not side with him always. In a way, Athena cannot be trusted and hence, neither could you or even Annabeth for a matter of fact.

That wasn't going to change his mind or the skeleton of a plan he'd created but it did make him begin to miss you already, and he knew that he'd covet you even more as the time passed and he'll miss your precious righteous anger and the bittersweet taste of salt and sweat that he kissed off your lips and cheeks after strenuous tasks or games.

His girl with fiery eyes and an axe.

"Yeah, yeah; you keep complimenting me while aiding and abetting the twins. Cancels each other out."

You grinned, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, sneaking your thumbs under his shirt, brushing his sides. You know Luke'll return your weapons and Travis and Connor will be sent for their showers after the entire Hermes cabin finishes theirs for the next week. All in all, dating Head Councelor has its perks.

"Your birthday's coming up, got any requests?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your hair before leaning back to look you in the eye.

"Nah, maybe we can spend the day sparring. I can show you this technique I've developed."

"Sparring, huh?" He smirks, "sure, I'd love to see this technique of yours."

"Wow, leave me alone," you roll your eyes, swatting at him.

He catched your hand and presses two kisses between your knuckles and as always, almost love a traditional practice you do the same to him.

"Alright I gotta go, the new kids got their Greek lesson now," you say.

"Wish I had such a gorgeous tutor back in the day," he teases, grinning as you stick your tongue at him, "I'll see you later."

"Yeah you will. I love you."

"I love you more.'

His girl with fiery eyes and an axe.

*****************************************************************************

[gogogodzilla]

Um I was wondering if you could write smut about connor and about if he can vibrate if yk what i mean cause i feel like im not the only person that thinks that androids can vibrate. please and thank you

Tease || Connor (RK800)

Summary: Connor can't wait until you get home.

Note Pt. 2: This is a spiritual epilogue of my completed Connor fanfic, Criminal Analysis!

Warnings: smut (obviously lol), afab reader, oral (reader receiving), fingering (connor has vibrating fingers), semi-public sex

{Masterlist}

You knew what you were doing— you were wearing those pants Connor liked. Really liked. 

Of course, you had another reason to be wearing them other than riling him up. You knew that you’d be called into court eventually, that’s part of being a forensic psychologist, after all. 

It all started that morning. You got to sleep in a little due to court and you relished the few extra moments of unconsciousness. 

However, those moments lost their sweetness when you felt the cold, empty space beside you in bed. You blindly swatted the other side of the bed, hoping that if you reached just a little bit further you’d find your lover. He’d bring your groggy form into his embrace, and lull you back into a dreamless sleep. 

Your grasps came up empty and you rolled onto your back with a huff. The bedroom door opened with a click, and soft footsteps echoed throughout the room. You peeked open an eye and struggled to fight the grin that appeared at the sight of your love.

Connor’s hair was neat as always, but he had exchanged his Cyberlife jacket with a normal suit jacket. It was a refreshing change. 

Connor neared your side of the bed, and your grin grew. He bent down and pressed a soft, slow kiss to your temple and ran his fingers through your hair, smoothing out some of the tangles.  

He slowly peppered kisses down your face, moving from your forehead, down to the space between your eyebrows, to the tip of your nose, and, finally, your lips.

You didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, the ache for him already growing. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged him towards you. 

Connor knew better than to fall into your trap, especially when he was running late. He placed a hand beside your head to stop himself from coming any closer. That didn’t stop you from trying, though.

“I have to go,” he whispered as he gently pulled away. 

You sighed dreamily as you sat up, “You should’ve woken me up sooner.” 

“If we started,” Connor purred as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “we wouldn’t be able to stop.” 

You hummed in response as you slowly trailed your fingers up his thigh. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, but you just grinned. 

You settled for resting your hands on his belt buckle, “You can afford to be a few minutes late.” 

Your argument was flawed, you knew that. Connor would rather cut off his own foot than be late. But, you also knew that you could be very persuasive. 

Connor pried your hand from his belt buckle and gave you a placating smile, “I’ll be home as soon as I can.” 

You let out a huff as you threw yourself back on the bed with a groan. You’re lucky you didn’t crack your head on the headboard, but you didn’t really care at the moment. 

Connor bent over and gave you a final kiss, whispering an ‘I love you’ against your lips. It was almost like you were Snow White, and he was your prince charming. Although, the only thing he’d awoken was a deep need throbbing between your legs. And then he was out the door. 

You set your plan into motion almost immediately. You felt a bit giddy at the thought of Connor getting all hot and bothered just by the sight of you. Especially, if he wouldn’t get to touch you until later that night. 

Your heart raced as you pushed open the glass door to the precinct. Your shoes clicked across the tile floor as you made your way through the turnstile and to your desk. 

You ignored Connor’s eyes searing a hole in your back as you bent down slightly and slowly put the files you came for in your bag. 

A low whistle sounded behind you, “Damn, sweetheart, what’re you all dressed up for?” Gavin called as he made his way to his desk, steaming mug clutched in his hand. 

You rolled your eyes and fought off a grin. Gavin’s shameless flirting was playing right into your plan. 

“If you must know,” you straightened and placed your hands on your hips, “some of us actually have to do our jobs.”

Gavin sat down and leaned back in his chair, “Very funny.” 

You went back to your task, pretending to look in one of the drawers for something, making sure to give Connor a very good view. 

“I think your plastic boy toy is malfunctioning,” Gavin snickered, and you stopped your fake search and looked up at Gavin. “He just practically ran to the bathroom.” 

“I’ll go check on him,” you muttered as you closed the drawer to your desk. 

Gavin put his feet up on his desk and sent you one of his blinks that’s meant to be a wink, “Yeah, you go ahead and check on him.”

You flushed as you turned away, your hurried steps echoing as you made your way to the bathroom. Gavin wasn’t stupid. Hell, you’d done the same thing when he’d pissed you off when you were dating. 

Old habits died hard.

The door to the men’s bathroom silently shut behind you, and luckily only one stall was occupied. You locked the bathroom door with a click and sauntered over to the stall which contained the object of your desires. Well, more like the person of your desires.

“Connor,” you called out as you came to a stop in front of the stall door. A slight grin graced your features as you waited for him to answer. 

The door opened in a flash, and you were pulled inside. Quicker than you could process, Connor had you pressed up against the door and had both of your hands caged in his and held above your head. 

“You just couldn’t wait,” Connor taunted as he tilted his head to the side, letting his breath fan across your cheek. He slid his knee between your legs, allowing himself to get even closer. 

You raised your head to look at him. “I dunno, seems like you’re the one who couldn’t wait.” He let out a sigh as he released your hands and raked them down your body. You had to be quick, Connor knew that. Although, that didn’t stop him from teasing you. 

He gripped your thighs as he looked down at you and pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips. It was mostly tongue, but you were quick to wrap your arms around him and pull him impossibly closer to you. 

Connor made quick work of undoing the buttons on your dress shirt as he pressed open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat and gripped your hips tightly. He was searching for that spot that made you make those noises he liked. You ground your core against his thigh, attempting to get some sort of relief.

Once he successfully got your shirt all the way unbuttoned, he was quick to attack the newly exposed skin, licking and sucking to his heart’s desire. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged at the pieces at the nape of his neck eliciting a groan from him. 

Connor gripped your waist as he moved his sloppy kisses down your abdomen and slowly got to his knees. You gazed down at him through your heavy lids. He moved to unbutton your pants, eager to finally touch you. His movements were practiced and precise as he pulled your pants down to your ankles. He let out a shaky breath when he realized you weren’t wearing any underwear. 

You’d almost forgotten about that part of your plan.

He slotted himself neatly between your legs. He always fit so well there. 

“So needy for me,” he breathed against your core as he caressed your inner thighs. You clenched them together but his grip held you in place. He pressed a kiss on the inside of your knee before slowly moving upward, avoiding where you needed him most. 

You let out a groan, and Connor looked up at you. 

“Use your words, Doctor,” he gently reminded before latching his lips onto your core. Your breath is promptly knocked out of you, and any retort you had died in your throat. 

His grip tightened on your thighs as he desperately pulled you closer to him. His tongue expertly circled your clit as he found a rhythm that had your eyes rolling back. You gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, eliciting a moan that sent heavenly vibrations up your body. 

You groaned at the sight of him— your slick had begun to coat his face and he showed no sign of slowing. 

Connor slowly and sinfully pressed one finger inside you, which was quickly joined by another. You thrusted your hips forward, desperate to have even more of him. He pumped his fingers achingly slow, but a stream of vibrations caused you to jolt. 

That was new.

A sly grin had curved into Connor’s face and he looked up at you, taking in the confusion mixed with arousal that graced your features. He pulled away from you for a moment, “I was saving that for later.” 

“Fuck, Connor,” you whimpered. 

“Be quiet,” Connor grunted into your core as he jutted his fingers deeper into you. You pressed a hand over your mouth to silence the breathy moans that were escaping you. 

You trusted yourself for only a moment to whimper out, “Need you.” 

Connor was more than happy to oblige you as he rose to his feet and pushed his fingers past your lips, making you taste yourself. You busied yourself with undoing his belt buckle, fingers clumsy as you revealed what you ached for. 

Connor let out a shaky breath as you stroked him, and he met your strokes halfway. He gripped your thighs and in one swift motion lifted you up. He was practically bending you in half, but you didn’t mind. 

He angled his cock up to your entrance, and agonizingly, slowly pushed inside you. The way he stretched you was delicious, and you let out a high-pitched mewl at the feeling. 

He covered your mouth with one of his hands as he rutted inside of you and bottomed out. After a few moments, you started moving your hips, begging him to move. Mercifully, he obliged you and snapped his hips against yours. You let out a breathy moan against his hand, and he pressed sloppy kisses against your neck. 

“You’re perfect,” he slurred into your shoulder, “couldn’t wait until tonight to have you.” He moved his hand from your mouth to resting on your neck, and he looked you in the eyes as he pounded into you. Connor brought his hand down to where you were joined and the vibrations continued once again. 

You grip onto his bicep, that familiar coil beginning to tighten, and you panted heavily. “I’m close,” you whined.

“Come for me.” 

He didn’t have to ask twice. You groaned and you felt your eyes roll back as you reached your high. You came hard as you involuntarily pushed your hips into Connor’s. 

He came with your name gracing his lips along with a few other words. You attempted to catch your breath as Connor stilled within you. 

“You’re going to be late,” he said matter-of-factly as he pressed a kiss to your temple. You huffed out a laugh, and Connor gently set you back down. You grabbed onto his shoulders while you waited for your legs to stop feeling like jelly. 

Connor helped clean you up and make you look presentable. His hands were a lot steadier than yours at the moment. 

You pressed a kiss to his cheek and grinned, “I should tease you more often."

[chelseeebe]

addict.

a/n: this has been in drafts for LONGGG and is basically a continuation of shameless. i wanted to post something because ive been slacking with writing and ideas so i hope this suffices lol

18+. smut. cheating whoops. it’s a tiny bit angsty i guess but it’s happy in the end bc we all love that don’t we

listened to bathroom - montell fish writing this ;)

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

‘so what’re you doing tonight?’ connor asks, eyes soft as he leans against the metal shelving unit, finally getting a free moment without customers.

‘uh.. nothi-,’ you’re cut off by a curious steve, bounding down the aisle to intervene in your potential plans, slinging his arm around your shoulder, smug grin plastered on his face.

‘oh no she’s busy tonight,’ his face twisting into a sarcastic, not-really-sorry expression, ‘sorry bud,’ shrugging as his hand dangerously nears your breast.

‘steve- you’re..’ you look back to a disappointed connor, his eyebrows raised, not prepared to argue with steve over this, ‘maybe another day?’ offering him an apologetic smile, swatting steve’s wandering hand away.

‘ahh.. yeah yeah, sure,’ connor nods, disappointment in his voice as he backs off, trotting down the aisle, leaving you with a cocky steve who’s hand had already found it’s way back to your chest.

you glare up at him, ‘you’re such an asshole,’ you bite, pulling yourself from his grip, justifiably annoyed by his cock-blocking.

‘don’t tell me you actually wanted to go out with him? besides, you are busy tonight,’ he smirks, reaching out to grab onto your waist, closing the space between you in a few short steps.

‘oh yeah? what am i doing tonight then?’ raising your eyebrow as your back presses against the cold metal of the shelf, steve’s hungry eyes leering down at yours.

you weren’t really mad at him. it wasn’t like you didn’t want to go out with connor, it was just that you were sure he wanted something more.. serious. and you weren’t exactly sure how to let him down gently.

‘well me hopefully,’ steve grins, his fingers loosely pulling your cheap, polyester work shirt up. your hand clamps down on top of his, well aware that you were still in work.

you push his chest with your free hand, keeping a stoic expression, ‘is that so? daisy’s at work then?’ his fingers grip onto your shirt, keeping you close.

he rolls his eyes, ‘yeah, she is.. i’ll be outside at five, up to you if you wanna come,’ wiggling his eyebrows, already certain that you weren’t saying no.

you purse your lips together, faux-pondering, ‘ugh, you’re so romantic,’ keeping your hand on top of his as he moves in again, fingers gripping your fleshy hips.

‘if you want romance, i can give you romance.. you just gotta give me a chance baby,’ his head dips, careless about where you were and who could see you.

‘get off of me,’ you scoff, pushing him back once more, managing to wriggle from his hold and backing up the aisle.

‘i’ll see you at five,’ he calls out after you, grinning to himself as he watches your hips move as you walk off.

-

sure enough he’s in the parking lot when you walk out at five, leaning against his car with a boastful smile as he watches connor walk off to his own car and you walk over to his. he’d won and there wasn’t even a contest.

‘you don’t need to rub it in,’ poking him in the shoulder as you open the passenger door, glaring at him before sliding into the leather seat.

he follows, tongue peaking out over his bottom lip as he gets into the car, ‘i didn’t even say anything,’ holding his hands up in innocence.

‘you didn’t have to,’ shaking your head. granted, connor was a little desperate but that didn’t mean steve had to be a prick about it.

the drive to his place is rather intense, you’d had half a mind to just get him to pull over somewhere on one of the back roads. his fingers creeping from your knee and somehow ending up between your thighs, teasing your clothed cunt as he drove. watching you squirm in the passenger seat with a sickening smirk on his face the entire time.

‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, free hand hitting the steering wheel as he pulls into his driveway.

your eyes springing open to find daisy’s car parked haphazardly in front of steve’s, ‘i thought you said she wasn’t here?’ jutting your bottom lip out, disappointed and now worked up with no release.

‘she’s not supposed to be,’ he complains, ‘fuuuck,’ hitting the steering wheel again, ‘d’you think she’s seen me? we could go to..’ trailing off as your eyes follow his to see daisy peering out of the door, probably why her boyfriend was taking so long to get inside.

his hand shoots from your thigh, flashing her a feeble smile. you feel like a colossal bitch, clambering out of the car to give her a short wave.

maybe you should have taken connor up on his offer after all.

-

going out with the entire gang could never go well. especially not when daisy had tagged along, sitting next to steve like a lost puppy dog, not understanding any of the niche inside jokes and thankfully not catching on to the reckless looks steve had been slinging your way.

there’s only one dinghy little club in hawkin’s, so that’s where you went. dancing on the sticky vinyl floor, with a glass of watered down vodka in your hand. nancy and robin dancing alongside, they liked to act like they hadn’t a clue what was going on, but you knew steve had slipped up once or twice and perhaps you hadn’t been as quiet as you’d thought you were that one time you’d all stayed at nancy’s.

it didn’t matter though, neither of them wanted the hassle of getting involved. confident that whatever was happening would resolve itself one way or another.

their eyes gave enough away anyway, watching intently as steve saunters across the dance floor, running his hand along the small of your back as he walked through the crowd to the tiny, shared bathroom cubicle at the other end of the room. there was no need to even look at each other. you knew the drill.

waiting a mere few minutes before following him past the crowds of dancing patrons, promising nance that you’d be back in a few minutes and she could have the rest of your drink if she wanted. you wouldn’t normally be so brash and careless about what you were doing but after a few drinks and the massive cock-block daisy had given you the other day, you could not have cared less.

rapping your knuckles against the splintered wood door twice and waiting for the lock to slide open before slipping inside. steve pouncing on you the second you’re inside, one hand fumbling to lock the door as the other grips onto your waist, back hitting the ceramic basin as his lips press against yours rather hungrily.

there’s hardly enough time to catch your breath before the lock is jammed into place and the previously free hand is sliding up your thigh and under the tight skirt that may have only worn to piss him off.

‘jesus.. steve..’ you manage to get out between kisses, fingers curling into his hair while you struggle to get onto the sink, using the back of his neck to hoist yourself up.

‘i can’t help it.. couldn’t wait,’ he murmurs, digging tiny half-circles into the squishy skin on your hips, angling them towards his, moving down to attack your neck, teeth grazing against your jaw bone.

his lips press against your neck, peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin, breath hot as his hips press against yours. the denim of his jeans pressing against your thighs, hooking your legs around his waist to keep him close.

‘fuuck, i would.. do.. anything for you,’ he breathes between kisses, already losing his composure and he wasn’t even inside of you yet.

your fingernails digging into his tense shoulders, ‘shut up,’ groaning as his erection brushes against your sensitive clit through your panties, the thump of the music outside of the tiny room growing.

his movements are antagonistically slow, you weren’t sure if he was teasing or just trying to make himself last long enough that you wouldn’t laugh at him.

‘i’m serious.. i want you,’ he murmurs, moving back up to level with your face, pupils dilated in a mix of lust and intoxication, jaw slack as pink tongue peaks out to wet his lips.

‘show me,’ pressing your forehead to his, grazing your fingernails down his lean back, tugging at the material in an attempt to hurry him.

sure, steve was always trying to convince you to fall in love with him but it increased tenfold after a drink. if you’d only say the word, he’d storm out of this bathroom and breakup with daisy in front of everyone. but you wouldn’t. and honestly? if she couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on by this point, then maybe she deserved it.

‘i will.. i will,’ he repeats, fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to keep his eyes on yours while he does so, prolonging the entire process as his drunken fingers struggle to undo the metal.

‘steve?’ daisy’s muffled voice calls from the other side of the door, barely audible over the music, ‘steve?’ knuckles now banging on the door.

you can’t contain the eye roll that follows, keeping him between your legs as the knocking persists. his jaw gritting in determination to get this damn belt undone, despite the fact his girlfriend is very much stood on the other side of the door.

‘i’ll be out in a minute,’ he calls out, your body tensing in response, if he’d just shut his mouth, she would’ve fucked off soon enough.

‘oh, you are in there.. i wanna go home.. i’m tired,’ she complains through the wood. his fingers finally get a grip on the buckle, sliding it undone and hurriedly tugging his jeans and boxers down together, resting on his large thighs.

‘okay..’ sucking the air between his teeth as your legs widen around him, pulling your lacy panties to the side, positioning himself at your already soaked entrance, ‘i-i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?’

his hand clamps over your mouth before pushing himself into your cunt, his own groan strangling in his throat at the feeling of your warmth, disgusting the noise with a half-assed cough. your hand coming to grip onto his wrist, the other holding onto the white basin as he begins to move slowly.

‘well.. no, are you not coming with me? i don’t wanna go alone..’ she grumbles, though you aren’t paying attention to anything else right now, focussing on containing the explicit moans from escaping through his hand.

‘ohhh christ.. no, no.. you go- i’m staying,’ his glossy eyes don’t falter, the hand that had held your hip coming to rest on your thigh, thumb extending out to rub circles around your throbbing clit causing your mouth to open further against his palm.

‘what? what are you doing in there? can i just come in?’ the door handle rattling as daisy grows impatient. you wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear the filthy sound of your cunt around him, balls slapping against the flesh of your ass.

‘no! no fuck no,’ his hand leaving your mouth to hold the wriggling door knob, keeping it firmly shut as his pace begins to falter, the conversation with his fucking girlfriend working in his favour to stop him coming so prematurely.

you’re forced to bury your face into his neck, soft whines vibrating the skin as your own orgasm fast approaches, the familiar feeling in your stomach growing. his thumb relentlessly circling your clit despite the circumstances.

‘steve wha- why can’t i come in?’ daisy persists, steve’s hand grabbing onto the door in pure frustration.

‘just go,’ he sounded desperate, pleading with her to leave before he came and she most definitely would’ve found out what or who he was actually doing in here.

your fingertips press into the cotton t-shirt on his back, mewling into the stubble on his jaw as you’re brought over the edge. head going dizzy as you clench around him, pleasure overcoming every single one of your limbs. if you hadn’t a death grip on the sink, you were sure you would’ve ended up on the floor.

you can hear daisy huff from outside, but the rattling stops and you hope to god that means she’s finally fucked off. feeling brave enough to let out an audible moan into his neck, just about coming back to earth.

‘cum in me,’ you babble, unsure of where the hell that had come from but still instinctively tightening your legs around his back, keeping him pressed against you as he gives you a few pathetic last thrusts, painting your walls with thick ropes of cum.

the sound out of his mouth is ungodly, thick and husky as his knees buckle, his body collapsing into yours, hot and sweaty, just a complete mess while he regains his strength. mouth open against your cheek, panting and gripping your hips.

craning your neck to press your lips to his, pulling his face to meet yours properly. it’s slow and tender even as his cum drips out of you and onto the grubby bathroom floor.

‘holy shit,’ he breathes into your mouth, feeling the smirk forming against your lips. it’s moments like these that have you questioning if did actually love him or not.

just completely enamoured by the way he looks, so pussy drunk and pupils damn near shaped like hearts as they gazed at you. you think you could. you really could.

he’s still panting for breath when you push him off of you, stumbling backwards into the adjacent wall. drunkenly fumbling with his belt as you hop off of the basin, rubbing the tender skin where the tap had dug into your spine.

‘you go first,’ you nod, tapping his arm, ‘i need to.. clean up,’ trying desperately to hide the smile on your face.

he stops for a moment, flashing that lop-sided smile that had you stumbling over your words. ‘okay.. you want a drink?’ running lazy fingers through his skewed hair, it was useless when everyone in the club would know immediately what had gone down.

you nod, shooing him out of the tiny room before you jumped his bones again. ashamedly pulling your skirt back down to a respectable length. you’re both terrible people, you know that.

and yet, you can’t stop yourself. he’s like an addiction that you’d never be able to rid yourself of. regardless of how many people and how many lives you both fucked up in the process.

-

you’re just about ready to wake steve up yourself. his snoring had been driving you crazy all night and now it was already afternoon and he was still fast asleep next to you. desperate to interrogate him on the things he’d said last night, his intoxicated confession.

he eventually stirs, so you take the opportunity to nudge his arm, pulling him from his sleep fully. groaning as he comes around, expecting daisy to be the one poking and prodding him.

‘uhh.. wait, what the fuck? what’re you doing here?’ voice groggy and deep as his smile peaking out from the pillow, arm extending out to wrap around your waist.

‘well someone had to make sure you didn’t die last night,’ rolling your eyes but still leaning in to his touch, grateful to no longer be sat listening to his horrific snores.

‘that bad?’ he groans, shoving his face back into the pillow.

‘oh yeah,’ stoic in your expression, ‘you got kicked out.. started screaming at the bouncer and then-,’ he grimaces, loudly groaning. large hand hiding his face from your judgemental eyes.

‘and then, you told nancy you were in love with me so uhh.. i think we’ve been rumbled,’ glaring at him from your position on the other side of the bed, not impressed with his antics.

‘well..’ he shrugs, feeling his fingers begin to toy with the shirt you’d borrowed, ‘was gonna happen sooner or later, wasn’t it?’ lifting his head up, gazing at you from squinted eyes.

‘not love though, steve.’

you can feel him tense up, sniffing as he looks away, ‘i was drunk.. it’s not- it doesn’t mean anything,’ a failed attempt at nonchalance.

‘so you don’t?’ looking at him earnestly, his face still half-hidden in the pillow.

you’d had enough time to reflect on his drunken declaration and quite honestly, you weren’t sure exactly how to feel about it. it wasn’t like it wasn’t pretty obvious that he felt that way towards you, but now that it was actually out there, was there any way for you to continue the odd relationship you shared?

‘i.. does it matter? you’re still gonna fuck me anyway so we should just forget i ever said anything,’ his hand disappears up underneath the t-shirt you’d stolen, his hands cold as they find their way higher, a pathetic attempt to distract you.

‘maybe i won’t.. steve- stop,’ becoming increasingly frustrated with him, ‘tell me.’

he sighs, contemplating his options as his wandering hand halts, ‘okay, and if i say i am in love with you, then what? you’re gonna tell me that it’d never happen and i’ll go back to daisy and then in two months this’ll start again.. it’s stupid,’ his eyes finally meet yours again, ‘i told you, it doesn’t change anything.’

you pause for a moment, studying his face through narrowed eyes. it was fairly obvious that he was trying to just brush this off, and no matter what you said, it wouldn’t make an ounce of difference. he was right though. you could end this today and go your separate ways for a little while but you both knew it wouldn’t last long before you were sneaking off at work and inevitably breaking some other poor girl’s heart.

you swallow, feeling his hand slither from under your shirt, watching as he props himself up against the pillow, already certain how this conversation was going to end.

‘were you telling the truth?’

his eyes close and you’re not sure why but his lips twitch into a tiny smile, ‘yeah,’ running a hand through the mop of hair on his head, already messy from sleep, ‘you knew that though, didn’t you? you know i’d fucking-,’ he exhales through his nose, ‘i’d do anything if you just asked me to,’ his shoulders slumping in defeat.

your heart pounds in your chest, the mere thought of leaving this room, leaving steve for god knows how long felt like the worst possible way for this to end. apprehensive to go any further but still terrified to end this in any other way.

‘you know how i feel about this.. i’m not..’ struggling to find the appropriate words, ‘i don’t know how to be in a relationship, you deserve someone that does.’

this is what you do. pushing away anyone that expresses even a semblance of interest in you. it’s a knack at this point.

he exhales, ‘i’m not asking you to marry me for fuck sake, i just wanna give this a shot and who knows? maybe we’ll get married and have six kids or.. or maybe we’ll end up hating each other but fuck- i wanna try,’ his hand reaches over to sit on top of yours, he’s pleading with you almost.

the bile rises in your throat, you can’t go on for much longer denying the way you felt towards him. it’s scary and you’re not sure if you can even formulate the words needed to tell him but maybe you should try. perhaps you would end up in a loveless marriage or maybe you’d crash and burn immediately. but maybe now you’re willing to try.

you sit like that in the silence for what felt like hours and eventually the only thing you can think of saying was, ‘..what about daisy?’

his eyes roll into the back of his head, groaning at the sheer mention of her name, ‘she’s gone, christ i’ll do it right now,’ his hand fumbles for the phone on his night stand, holding it up in front of your face, ‘tell me and i will.’

your mouth opens but no words come out, his clammy hand squeezing yours in one last hopeless attempt to convince you. watching his normally bright eyes falter as you remain silent.

‘do it.. break up with her,’ nodding as sign of encouragement, still wary of the decision you’d made but deciding that whatever might come from this couldn’t be as bad as being the reason another unsuspecting girl got her heart broke.

‘you’re serious?’

‘yeah,’ breathing out for what felt like the first time this morning, ‘i think we should try.’

and lord knows, if it really did all come tumbling down, that you’d get your karma one day and you couldn’t be mad.

[niighttree]

Now I haven't interacted with this fandom too much, yet. But there is something I would Love to see more of:

Connor is not a soft boi, or well not just a soft boi; He is a TERMINATOR disguised as a soft boy.

Especially when he's just a machine but even deviant Connor, imo, retains this aspect of himself. He's cordial, friendly even and generally quite impassive to people trying to get a rise out of him (coughGavincough) and yeah I imagine after deviating Connor would genuinely embody those things. His personality wouldn't change much in that aspect except maybe becoming a little more sassy, but! He is also analytical, he knows how to be manipulative, he was designed as the perfect detective and if the need arises he can be cold AF. Not to mention he can and will kick most people's ass. Like bro, in the game the guy is shown to be able to take out an entire SWAT team singlehandedly.

Can you imagine how uncanny that would be to witness?

Tbh, I'd love to see a fic from the P.o.v of someone who is painfully aware of this aspect of everyone's favourite android detective. Let's say, someone who ended up on the wrong side of those hands once and would rather never repeat it again. Like our favourite asshole, Gavin Reed. So recommendations are welcome :D

[detroitbecomeonline]

SWAT Connor: CyberLife store (part 11)

Please don't save my screenshots and post them elsewhere. <3

Related:

Learn how to create SWAT Connor for yourself here. See my mod learning progress and how-tos here. See other gallery stuff here.

[iwonderwh0]

And huh, if Deviant path is GUARANTEED to have human victims from Connor's hands (CL tower guards, Jericho) in Machine run he can avoid killing humans entirely. He can lie to the armed human in Jericho, make Hank leave, loose or spare him after defeating on the rooftop (and get himself pushed down), he can throw himself off that roof willingly to avoid fighting Allen and his SWAT team.

After he's out of DPD he's free to do whatever to get his shit done, and yet avoiding killing any human is still a real option he can stick to.

[cyberbullyingandroids]

I JUST READ YOUR SWAT CONNOR FIC. ITS SO GOOD. I LOVE THAT EVERYONE ELSE ALSO LOVES SWAT CONNOR. ❤️‍🔥

I'm happy you liked it! I thought I had scared you off because it's just... Fetish. I had a vision and went for it 😭 I'll probably write another SWAT Connor fic for Dom Eve that's a little less niche. ❤️

Link to the fic in question.

[yoononly]

through the reflection

top!amab reader, bottom!connor cw: mirror sex, blowjobs, bold connor, playful banter, established relationship??

a/n: was looking through pics on pinterest and saw some rooms with full length mirrors...

check link in bio to help families in gaza/congo!!!

you fumbled with the door knob, struggling to get a solid grip with connor’s lips on yours and his body squeezing you just right. his hips flat on yours making eachother gasp at each sudden movement. after a few seconds, connor decides to swat your hand away and opens the door himself.

“I was gonna do that.” you mumbled against him and he chuckled before humming “mhm.”

you guide him into the bedroom towards the bed, but in the corner of your eye, you notice your full length mirror attached to the wall. “wanna try something different, con?” he pulled his head back and hooded eyes blinked at you. yellow slowly spinning against his forehead. “like..?” he asked, eyes already darting from your eyes to your lips, wanting to feel them again.

you spin him around, his back flush against your chest and your bulge grinding against his ass. a surprised moan escapes his lips and he pushes back against your hips. you nip at his neck, “wanna see how well you take my cock?” his face flushes blue and he gulps, even though he doesn’t need to. your eyes burn into connor through the mirror, watching as he follows your hands as they go across his body, he keens when you pinch his waist and pull him impossibly closer. he watches as one of your hands explore underneath his shirt, gliding over his left nipple before lightly pinching it. his breath hitches and he gets lost in the feeling of your fingers for a moment.

“you like me that much huh?” connor smirks at you from the mirror. you hum as you kiss up his jaw. he flips to face you, his hands trail down your sides “do you want to see my mouth around you too?” his boldness never fails to make you flustered, you look away and nod. he slides down your body and onto his knees, unbuckling and unzipping your pants. he molds you into his hand through your underwear, looking up at you as he presses small kisses at your tip.

your breath hitches and you rest your hand ontop of his head. he pulls your boxers down to join your pants. your cock stiff from anticipation, he wraps his hand around you and pumps slowly. “do you like what you see?” he licks up your frenulum, cupping your balls with his free hand. “fuck con..” you breathe out, “such a fucking tease.”

you comb through his hair as he continues licking you and occasionally sucking your tip. “why don’t you use that pretty mouth correctly?” connor glares up at you, a silent threat. “pleease?” you say sarcastically. “be careful.. i might bite” he threatens before taking you fully into his mouth.

you shudder at the feeling of his mouth around you. you repeatedly touch the back of his throat but he keeps sucking you in. androids and their lack of a gag reflex. he hums, sending vibrations up your spine, causing a strangled moan to escape your throat. connor suddenly stops and gasps, you snap your head down. you see him struggling to keep you in his mouth and his free hand moving in his lap.

“can’t wait for me to touch you, can you?” you pull his chin towards you and motion him to stand up. “turn around for me,” you stare at him through the mirror’s reflection. “want me to fuck you?” you nudge your nose behind his ear and watch his expression turn desperate. “I want to feel you in me…”

you grab his hands and make him help you pull his pants down, his lower half completely exposed infront of the mirror. he began to grow shy under your gaze, looking away. “look at you… going shy already?” he said nothing but instead pushed his butt against you, pulling a low groan from your throat.

you lined yourself up to his hole, no prep needed thanks to him being an android. “c’mon, look at me while I fuck you.” he let out a long whine as you pushed into him.

you pumped into him slow, dragging against his walls. your eyes never left him as you whispered sweet nothings into his ear, inciting him to look. despite that, connor insisted on looking away.

you couldn’t let him miss the show, especially when he was the star. you grabbed his chin and pulled his face to look towards the mirror.

his jaw slack, carelessly letting out moan after moan. his cock bounced with your every thrust. but most importantly, your piercing gaze watching his every move. you nibbled up his neck until you reached his ear. “so pretty… you take me so well.”

connor felt his core tighten at your comment, already on the edge. “faster.” he said breathlessly—despite not needing to breathe. and you obliged, your hips snapping against his butt, making it recoil. you felt your release coming faster than usual. you weren’t going to last very long either.

“cum for me con.” you say against his neck and he nods wordlessly. his moans gained a slight glitch in them and his movements stuttered robotically. connor finishes on the mirror, leaving a splash of translucent liquid. you chase your own release, thrusts unrelenting.

despite just finishing, connor kept up with your pace with the same energy as earlier. his cock still standing tall. “cum in me.” he moans and that only turns you on more, breaking you.

you fill him to the brim, groaning into his neck as you do. but connor didn’t seem ready to rest just yet, giving you that damn smile through the reflection.

him and his damn stamina.

[wambsgansshoelaces]

Can you do number 13 from the Pinterest prompt list with Kendall? 🥺 I feel like that's something he really needs to hear

Throw Pillow

Prompt: “I’m not going to leave you. You’re never going to have to suffer by yourself again.”

Kendall Roy x Reader

summary: homegoods + a sudden relapse

thank you so much for requesting, anon!!! I’m sorry this is late, I appreciate and love you very much <3 enjoy xxx

slight tw for drug use.

Word Count: 2.117k

When he’d asked you to move in with him, it’d been barely a year into your relationship. Not that you were opposed- it was the exact opposite. The minute you met, you just knew he was who you were meant for.

His apartment is so… sterile. It’s neat, it’s barely organized, it just doesn’t feel like a home.

“That’s why I’m with you,” he says teasingly in response when you tell him one day, cuddled together on the couch. His arm is looped around your shoulder, playing with your hair, fingers scratching gently at the nape of your neck. “You can decorate however you want.”

You hum contentedly, satisfied with his answer. Your palm is stroking over his toned stomach, your eyes focused on his. He has a goofy smile on his face, his expression laden with affection. You give him a soft peck on the lips. “We’re going to HomeGoods, then.”

He chuckles. “I don’t think anybody other than Connor actually goes there.”

“Do you want me to make this house a home or not?”

You kiss again, grinning into each others mouths. You slide off the couch, Kendall not far behind. You’re stepping into the kitchen, but he’s going to grab the car keys from the table by the front door. “Aren’t we going? he asks, staring back over his shoulder at you.

“You’re actually okay with it?”

“Of course I am.” He toes his shoes on. “Come on. Let’s go.”

He waits for you to walk out before him so he can let his hand sit on the small of your back as you both go. When you arrive at the store, you can’t help but stare at him. He leans against the shopping cart as you browse the aisles, dazed smile pasted on his face. He doesn’t actually care about the decorating. He’s happy just watching you.

You have a vision for your new home with Kendall. He wasn’t too fond of overly obnoxious colors, or any color at all, but you didn’t want your apartment to be sad beige. You want it happy beige, bright neutrals, a pop of soothing pastel every so often. You both go around, Kendall just nodding along to everything you say.

“Ken, I want you to like it, too,” you tell him at one point, a bit deflated that he wasn’t as into this as you are. He rounds the cart, coming close to you. You’ve been fidgeting with a ceramic bowl you think would serve as a good key holder. He gently pries it from your hands, setting it gently in the shopping cart, and takes your face in his hands.

His thumbs ghost over your jaw as he looks adoringly down at you. “If you like it, and you’re sitting in our bedroom, or our living room, or whatever the fuck, and you’re smiling, you’re happy, then I also like it.” He kisses you in the middle of the aisle, the warmth of his lips seeping onto yours. You pull away quickly after kissing him back, suppressing a giggle as someone shuffles past the two of you. “What? Don’t wanna be seen with me in public?” he asks mischievously, fingers still tracing over your face.

You laugh freely this time, swatting him on the chest. “Fuck off.” You walk off, continuing your amateur hunt. He follows. He’d always follow. He’ll follow you to the ends of the earth.

It doesn’t take that much longer for you to finish your shopping spree. Kendall insists on paying, on funding your delusions, and he carries all of the bags back to the car. You refuse to let him take everything inside your home by himself. The two of you chatter idly as you do so, laughing, giggling, being so stupidly in love.

After everything is unpacked and you’ve decorated to your liking, he hooks his arms around your waist and collapses onto the couch, dragging you down with him. He sighs as if he’s just climbed a mountain, his hand going to sit on your hip once you press up against him. He picks up a throw you’d bought from next to him, turning it over in his hand. His fingers run slowly over the fabric as he inspects it.

“What are these, anyway?”

“They’re pillows,” you say mockingly after pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

He scoffs. “Asshole. I mean, are they just decorative? Do I have to pretend like I’m tip toeing over landmines?”

“No, use them as normal pillows. They’re cute and functional.”

His hand travels to your stomach, stroking absentminded patterns into your skin, making you feel good.

‧₊˚✩彡

One night, you’re out later at work than you usually are. Some paperwork for an issue that seems like it’s never going to resolve itself. Normally, Kendall responds to your texts maximum ten minutes after they’re sent. It’s been half an hour.

You think it’s okay to start worrying at this point.

Kendall has a tendency to overthink things to the point of instability. You just hope that that isn’t what this is. Maybe his phone died. Maybe he’s taking a nap.

You would’ve never had guessed it to be weed.

When you shoulder the front door open, dropping your keys in the new key holder, the smell hits you. Your entire life, it’s nauseated you to an extreme. It’s just such a sour, sickening smell. You can’t stand it.

He looks up at you when you walk into the living room, caught, but not caring. The windows are open, but it’s clearly not enough for the smell.

You thought he was sober.

“Where the fuck did you get weed from?” you ask icily, your anger unable to keep itself restrained.

He turns away from you, instead staring up at the ceiling, letting a huff of smoke out. He’s sitting right by a window, directing his breath out into the outside air as to not trigger the smoke alarms.

“I know a few people,” is all he says in response.

You’re pissed. Your blood is boiling. Not that he relapsed, not that he’s clearly upset at something, but because he’d forgone telling you anything about anything and took things into his own hands. “Kendall-” is all you can say before he interrupts.

“Listen, I don’t want the lecture, or the boo-hoos. I just want to relax and get rid of this fucking headache. I don’t need your nagging.”

You grit your teeth and keep your mouth shut. You’re not going to dignify him with a response.

“Whatever you want,” you say back calmly. “You’re sleeping out here tonight.”

You watch his face immediately sober, shock and panic flickering over his features. He opens his mouth to call after you, but you’ve already disappeared into your room and locked the door behind you.

You’re torn. You feel bad for what you did, but Kendall has never, ever spoken to you like that before. Even when high, or drunk, he’d always been sweet. Kind, caring. You want to ask him what was wrong. You want to help him fix it, help him out of this hole he’s digging himself into. But he doesn’t want you to. So you suppose you can’t.

You change, and the silence in the apartment is stressing you out. As the hour passes, the repulsive stench of the weed fades away. You can hear faint movement from the living room, but you don’t bother going out.

Once you’re in your pajamas and sat in bed, you deflate a little. It feels wrong without him laying next to you. Your bed was usually warm with affection, but since you were by yourself, everything felt colder and less… real. Again, you’re conflicted. You’re mad at him, but at the same time, it felt mean what you were doing.

You lay back in bed, not even the blankets warming your body. You ran cold, Kendall ran hot. You’re upset, but you’re beginning to realize you need him in bed with you for you to sleep. Maybe you’d overreacted. Maybe you didn’t. You’d talk about it in the morning.

Your resolve embarrassingly crumbled, you go over, unlock the door, and stick your head out of the doorway. Kendall’s sat up on the couch, staring down at the ground, looking like a scolded child. You slide onto the cushions next to him, and you can still smell the weed on his breath.

“Hey. I’m sorry, I was being mean.” You kiss his cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not upset with you. How about you brush your teeth and get to bed and we’ll talk about it in the morning?”

His fingers fidget with his sleeve. “Yeah. Okay. I’m sorry, too. I was being a fucking jerk.”

You go to sleep facing away from each other.

The morning comes quickly, and you wake up, your entire body stiff. You don’t feel rested, you feel like you’re missing something. You roll over to find that Kendall’s already awake, lying on his back with his hands folded on top of his chest.

Wordlessly, you scoot closer to him. You hope he’ll reach out to you, touch you, something. Your relief is staggering when he does, his arm snaking around your waist. He pulls you flush against him, his hand rubbing gently over your hip. He kisses your forehead hesitantly, then the spot between your eyebrows.

“We should talk,” you murmur to him, hand sliding over his chest.

“Yeah, we should.” You realize he’d brought a throw pillow from the couch with him, using it rather than his actual one. His free arm sprawls over himself, his forearm sitting on his forehead. “I don’t know how it happened.”

You scoff. “That’s such bullshit.”

“I mean it.” He avoids your gaze. “It’s like… I was at Waystar, and shit hit the fan, and everybody was fighting… It was my fault, Y/N. I fucked everything up. And before I knew it I was knocking on a dealer’s door. I threw it all out, though. I don’t… I don’t know why I said what I said yesterday. You don’t deserve that.” He pauses. “You deserve better than me.”

“Why didn’t you just talk to me about it? I promise I’ll always listen when you need to speak.”

For the first time this conversation, he looks you in the eyes. “I… I don’t want to be a burden. And I want to promise that this won’t happen again, but… but I can’t.” He rubs his hand over his eyes. “I understand if you don’t want to keep doing this anymore. I’m not exactly… I’m sorry.” His voice cracks as he speaks, and his gaze possesses an unusual clarity as opposed to the brain fog of last night. Tears well in his waterline, and your heart sinks. He looks away.

Your hand goes to his chin. “Kendall. Look at me.” You wait for him to listen, then continue. “I’m not going to leave you. You’re never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise.”

His breath stutters as he looks at you. It’s as if you’ve breathed life into him again, as if his heart had stopped and your words were volts of electricity. He chokes on a sob, breaking down, and immediately pressing his face into your neck. You stay silent. He just needs a few moments, and who are you to take them away from him?

You rub up and down his spine, soft, soothing movements.

You stay like that, for a while, him buried in your skin. You don’t mind.

He’s the love of your life; you’ll be damned if he continues on feeling like there’s nobody on his side. Eventually, he pulls away, small smile playing on his lips. “Okay. I’m sorry. This was all just a mess.”

You follow him, pressing a kiss to his mouth. He returns it, oh so fucking happy you’re still here. "If you ever have any problems, Ken, just tell me. I love you. I'll never not help you." His expression melts into one of pure affection. “If there’s ever any non-prescription drugs in this house again I’m going to murder you and sell all of your organs for money.”

You feel his smile widen against your mouth as he kisses you again. Mouth still on yours, he reaches up behind his head for the throw, yanks it from under him with one swift motion, and smacks you in the face with it.

"Hey!" you yelp, snatching the throw pillow from him. He makes a weak attempt at taking it back, but you don't let him.

Laughter filling the air around you, you lunge at him. Your bed is never devoid of warmth again.

[yandereloverwritesstuff]

Super Psycho Love Part 3

Watch your back, your new stalker admirer didn't get to the top of the food chain by being gentle.

Yandere! Jock x Nerd! Reader

Part 1, Part 2

Content Warning: Stalking, Sexual themes, Manipulative behavior

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that." The stern gaze of Mrs. Eisenhower, the European history teacher, met his, "I'm not going to arrange to have her tutor you. She has too many obligations as it stands and I've never once seen you show an interest in your GPA in all the years you've been here. If you would like to proposition her, you can do so personally." She said with pursed lips and raised, barely there eyebrows. Ms. Eisenhower adjusted her bejeweled bifocals and swiveled her desk chair back to face her desktop.

His blood pressure leaped and his face soured. Any person on campus would and could have predicted the outcome. Eisenhower was the unnecessarily proud sponsor of the speech and debate club and harbored a deep resentment of the politics that gutted their budget. She was a stocky, straight-laced woman with a frizzy ginger bob and a penchant for handing out lunch detentions. He had gotten so used to preferential treatment that some part of him had forgotten teachers could actually use the word no.

"I'm sure coach would appreciate it if you would help me out with my grades."

She scoffed and took a sip from a mug with Catharine the Great's face plastered on it. "I'm sure he would too. That doesn't mean I will."

He shoved the chair roughly as he got up, storming out of the classroom. Students eyed him wearily as he stomped by. He knew you would probably reject him outright if he asked directly and was planning on a teacher to strongman you into interacting with him. It wasn't implausible; he was barely maintaining a 2.0 GPA. Of course, he'd need help from one of the most promising young minds the school had to offer.

He kicked a trash can and it weakly coughed up an apple from the previous lunch period.

The ripe scents of sweat, mildew and too-sweet body spray hung heavy in the girls' locker room. You suppressed a coughing fit as you navigated the perfumed clouds of Japanese Cherry Blossom and Love Spell, looking for an empty bathroom stall. Changing in front of the other girls may have been tolerable if your class was made up of literally any other group of teenage girls. You held your change of clothes to your chest in a death grip.

Bella and Lauren, a fairly-popular junior, were talking in front of the dirty, stained sink mirrors.

"I mean he hasn't asked me officially yet, but we talk all the time." Bella propped a thin, artificially tanned calf on the sink, slathering some fruity lotion on it, "Yeah, no, I think he'll definitely ask me to be his girlfriend soon."

You tried to duck out of their line of sight.

"Didn't he go upstairs with Jordan H. at Connor's party a few weeks ago?" Lauren asked, absentmindedly fixing her strawberry-blonde hair into a messy bun.

Bella frowned, "Yeah well, Jordan's a sophomore slut anyways. He would never be serious with someone like her."

You crept behind the pair quietly, hoping to check the shower stalls. If they were empty you could be in your next class in under ten minutes. She turned abruptly and narrowed her eyes. You never understood the appeal. Sure, she was nice-looking, but in a very conventional cookie-cutter way. There were probably a million girls walking around the western hemisphere with the exact same combination of facial features. Bella had a face one could forget directly after talking to her.

"Hey, you," She eyed the plaid bundle in your arms, "do you dress like that for religious reasons?" Lauren giggled and murmured a weak stooop, lightly swatting Bella's knee.

"I just like the way it looks." You said blandly.

"You do know that it's the 21st century right? It's not a sin to show your kneecaps. They put it in the constitution or something." Bella grinned, and Lauren clasped a well-manicured hand over her mouth to hide her laughter.

"Yeah, something like that." You kept your head down and continued past them. After a minute in the very back of the locker room, where the fluorescents flickered unpredictably, you found an empty shower stall. You ripped back the powder pink curtain, trying not to look too closely for roaches in the dimly lit corners. The mold that grew in the grout of the shower was bad, but it was better than dealing with Bella's snide remarks or complaints about her kinda boyfriend arrangement with one of the school's linebackers.

"What? I was just trying to help her. I don't know since she's probably never seen a cell phone or used the internet. She's totally trapped in the 1950s."

"Wait, do you think that means she's racist?" Their laughter echoed through the locker room.

Just four months and then you'd be done.

He waited for Bella. Really though, he was waiting for her so he could see you.

You were one of the first ones out, briskly walking towards the wide gymnasium doors, boldly painted in the school colors. Your pigtails fluttered dutifully behind you. Adults always made sure to emphatically tell you that you'd find your kind one day – that there's this hypothetical far-off date where you'd magically stumble across people that just got you. It always felt more obligatory than anything.

When Mrs. Eisenhower told you how kids like you were the future, it seemed more like she was assuring herself that there was a way to change the systems made by people like Principal Mulligan, where rewards were distributed among the chosen select few. Or maybe it was the idea that people like her could be a part of those few that motivated her. The chess club had to hold no less than three bake sales on top of selling magazine subscriptions and chocolate bars to get to nationals, but neither the football nor cheerleading team had to worry about anything like that. The school covered it all and even had air conditioning in the buses. They wouldn't want their overly aggressive meatshields to get overheated. Something, something, grumpy 200-pound 'roided teenage boys are a liability.

When you felt the hand on your shoulder your head snapped back.

It was him.

"Bella should be out soon." You mumbled, readjusting your worn leather satchel. It wasn't intentional, your curtness. It just never occurred to you before that he would have any reason to speak to you.

He was surprised that you felt real, that there was soft flesh and fabric underneath his palm. You smelled nice, like honey and a little bit of sweat. He could definitely give you a good sweat if you'd let him be alone with you for a few hours.

He thought of the ice baths Coach made the team take after conditioning. Stinging, numbing, definitely not arousing. Not like your pigtails and flushed cheeks and the way you had to peer up at him because of the height difference.

"Can I help you?" You ask gingerly, warily eying the hand on your shoulder. It was definitely still there.

"Yeah, I need a tutor for European history. I know that you're smart and could probably help me." His brows were lightly furrowed.

"Oh." You said lamely, crossing your arms over your chest, "I don't think I have the time for tutoring this semester. I've got a pretty busy schedule." His hand was still on your shoulder. God is this the lady killer no teenage girl could get over? You briefly glanced at his bicep. He was both bigger and dumber than you originally gave him credit for.

"Wait, you don't understand. I really need this, like really."

"Why? You're set to graduate, right? Just focus on football and you'll be fine." You remove his hand from your shoulder cautiously. It's heavy and calloused and feels unnatural in your soft, pristine scholar's palms.

His face flushed a deep, beet red. You didn't know that it wasn't frustration, but something else entirely.

"It's not about graduating. I'm grounded until I can get my grades up. Mom's worried about me being accepted into her Alma Mater –apparently, just football may not be enough to get a scholarship." It wasn't actually a total lie. It's just that his mom already gave up on getting him to give a shit academically after freshman football season. He never listened to her anyways.

"My schedule won't allow it. I'm sorry." You looked around the gym. Some passing juniors looked at the two of you curiously, equally confused as you. Others, mostly boys snickered to themselves like they were already in on the joke. Either way, you knew deep down that no one was going to help you get out of this one.

"Wait! What if I paid you to help me?" He blurted out. You waited a beat. If he was willing to fork over his (or his daddy's) money, he probably wasn't going to try anything inappropriate. You figured whatever that semi-pained, constipated expression on his face was the closest thing to sincerity he was capable of expressing.

"How much?" You asked sharply.

"So you do have time. " He grinned teasingly.

"Depends on the pay."

"If you can get me a B, 30."

You scoffed, "70".

"60"

"65"

"62"

"65"

"65" He agreed, "So you'll do it?"

"Yes, I can do Sundays and Thursdays – no later than sundown."

"Alright, cool." He nodded and slipped his phone from his back pocket and handed it to you. "I should probably get your number so we can talk to each other and shit."

And shit. God, how was he getting all these girls to sleep with him? You wanted to roll your eyes, but you knew for a fact that Anastasia Beverly Hills was supposed to release a new eyeshadow palette before the holidays, and your Mac quads were almost entirely pan only. You knew your parents wouldn't just hand you money without asking what it was going towards. If you were cautious they were borderline neurotic. But they didn't have to know you were getting paid to tutor...

You hesitated a moment before you entered the digits on his cracked screen. Something in the way he looked at you, focusing intently on your hands as they hovered over the number pad, made you feel uneasy.

"There. Don't text me at weird hours." You unceremoniously handed him his phone back, unaware that his home screen was a photo of you taken the first time he followed you home. Why would you check that? As far as you were concerned, he didn't even know you except for passing each other in the halls occasionally.

He watched you walk off, blood rushing to places that it shouldn't be right now. He didn't plan on attending his next class, but when Bella draped her small, petite arms around his shoulder he suddenly felt deeply interested in hearing what Ms. Donovan had to say about that second act of Macbeth he didn't read.

"Hey handsome." Bella purred softly, before following his line of sight. She frowned when she saw you scurrying away. "What did she want?"

"I need a tutor. My mom's pissed off at me again. I only just got my dad to give me my keys back, but no parties until I bring them up again." He shrugged. "I think all she ever does is school and I have her in European History."

"Hmm," she pouted, "that's bullshit for your mom to do. It's senior year and on top of that, you have to deal with the fundie too. Totally unfair." Bella's arms snaked around his waist. "Maybe I could help take your mind off of it? You always skip English class anyways."

He softly pulled away, "I should go if I want any hope of attending homecoming, sorry."

Bella's frown deepened, but she let him go. "We're still going together, right? Like you said?"

He froze. He forgot entirely about that. In fact, he wasn't sure if he actually did say that; if he did, he must have been wasted.

"If. If I'm going." He corrected, "But I need to fix my grades first."

He'd been talking to her since the summer after sophomore year, but he never enjoyed her presence. She was his cheerleader, in the unofficial pairings the school divided them into, and now he was stuck pretending to tolerate her long after he came on her back.

He'd much rather be stuck with you, or you stuck with him – whatever was more realistic. As he walked to his English class, he knew he'd be jacking off to your shared encounter later tonight. He caught the sly way you eyed his bicep, your shyness. He wanted to see your body drip with sweat, down the valley between your tits and on your thighs. You looked like the repressed librarian type and he could definitely, eagerly help with any curiosity you might have. The thought of you shyly admitting you've never done anything before him while gently stroking his dick with your soft, cautious hands carried him through his last few periods. God, he wanted to break you.